The Faery Keepers

by Melinda Hellert

  “Don’t you “girls!” me, Parker!” Maggie hisses shrewdly, narrowing her eyes at her brother. “He just got here. We were going to go out for breakfast.”

  “At 5 A.M.!? Don’t kid with me, Margaret Ann. Why. Is. He. Here.”

  “I TOLD YOU!” she hollers.

  “Lower your voice!”

  She takes a perceptible breath. “We’re going down to Cunningham’s for an early breakfast. That’s all, I swear.”

  “Is this true?” he turns on me.

  “Yes, it’s true,” I say while trying not to squirm under his scrutiny and hope he can’t tell that my face is growing red.

  “Fine. Whatever. Be back by curfew.”

  Maggie glowers at him. “You are not Dad.”

  “I know I’m not Dad! I’m just trying to take care of you!”

  “Fat lot of good you’re doing!” She grabs her messenger bag off the floor and stomps back out the door.

  I shoot Parker an apologetic look. It’s not his fault that they were orphaned. It’s no one’s fault really. Unless you count the other driver . . . which I’m sure that they definitely hold him accountable. I know I would. “Sorry,” I mumble, going after her. Derek gives a nod and follows suit.

  “Well that went well,” I mutter when we’re back in the Jeep.

  “I think it’s safe to say that your brother does not like me, anyone disagree?” Derek says, his dark mood forgotten for a moment.

  We all crack up laughing.

  “Yeah, I think that vein in his forehead was about to burst,” Maggie jokes next to me in the back seat. I squeeze her hand, catching her eye. I know it must be hard on her to have to lie to Parker too. It’s hard on both of us.

  “You were amazing,” I whisper. “Even I believed you, and I know the truth.”

  “Yeah well, I can’t help myself. When he talks to me like that my bratty teenager side comes out. Sorry you two had to see that.”

  “No worries, I told you two you wouldn’t need me, didn’t I?” Derek smiles into the rear view mirror.

  “Oh, so that’s what you meant? Thanks for the heads up.” Maggie shakes her head in exasperation.

  There’s a chuckle from the front.

  “Just ignore him,” I warn, pulling my friend back before she whacks him on the head.

  “So where you wanna go?” He asks, still chortling.

  “I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to go to Cunningham’s place. I’m starving.”

  “I hope you have some money, ‘cause I’m broke.”

  “No problem,” she pats her faded blue messenger on the seat between us. “I brought this along for a reason. You, on the other hand, are paying for yourself,” she tells Derek as he begins pulling onto the street.

  He shrugs. “You don’t think it’ll be a bit odd for three teenagers to show up at a diner at 5:30 in the morning in the summer? That seems a little fishy to me.”

  “Well no one asked you, Derek,” Maggie snaps. She puts her mouth near my ear, “wake me when we get there.”

  She settles back on the head rest and closes her eyes. “Thanks for leaving me with him,” I hiss at her. A small smile spreads across her face but I get no other reaction.

  I sigh and lean against the cool glass of my window, pressing my cheek against it. Before I can stop myself I’m out too.

  “Hey wake up, we’re here,” Derek calls back to us. I start awake.

  “Hmm? Oh. Maggie, we’re here.” I give her shoulder a shove.

  Her arm thrashes out but I catch it easily, used to her way of waking up fighting.

  “Sorry,” she rubs her bleary eyes. “Oh, good, we’re here.”

  “I said that already,” Derek says, a laugh in his voice. “You two sleep like the dead, you know that?”

  “Shut up, Derek,” we say in unison.

  “Impressive. I think we have twins.”

  I slide out of the car, a bit off balance I wobble on the landing. Derek holds out a hand to catch me. “Steady there. We don’t want to add a hospital visit to all of this. And I thought you were doing so well.”

  “Get off me,” I snap.

  “A bit testy, are we?”

  I make a face at him. “Come on, I’m hungry.” My stomach growls loudly to emphasize the obvious.

  He snorts. “I can see that. Well let’s go. I shan’t keep you waiting.”

  “Did you really just use “shan’t”?”

  “If I did?” he asks, eyebrow quirked.

  I shake my head. Maggie loops her arm in mine and steers me towards the diner entrance. I catch my reflection in one of the windows and give a gasp. My hair is an absolute mess.

  “Bathroom,” I say only to Maggie and we make our way through the restaurant to the door with the pink dressed figure painted next to it. Inside everything is lavender. The sinks, the stalls, the floor tiles, the walls. It even smells like lavender air freshener. I breathe in the familiar smell and lean over a sink. “Please tell me that you have a brush in that bag of yours,” I say staring at my unkempt reflection in one of the mirrors.

  She drops it to the floor and commences digging through all the clutter in search for her hair brush. “Ah-ha! Here you go.” She hands me it. I drag it through my tangled curls, wincing when it catches.

  I hand it back to her and she does the same, although it seems a lot easier for her. She doesn’t have unruly curls to deal with.

  “Any reason that you just had to fix your hair?” she peers at me.

  “Um, it was a mess?”

  She gives a snort. “Yeah, right. Don’t start lying to me, Kate.”

  “I’m not lying! Why would I lie to you?”

  “Please. I see the way you two act around each other. Do I look like I’m blind?”

  “What do you mean?” I say slowly.

  “He likes you.”

  “What? No he doesn’t,” I shake my head at her.

  “The thing that’s funny is that you actually look surprised. How can you not tell? Do you see him flirting with me?”

  “No. . .it’s just. . .” Oh my God, what am I saying? Of course I realized that! I’m not blind either. “I do not like him. OK? Don’t look at me like that! I don’t.”

  “Who are you trying to convince, Katie, you or me?” She gives me a knowing look.

  I throw my hands up in the air. “Fine, think what you want. But I am hungry and I’d like to go get some food. Is that OK with you?”

  “Sure,” she throws her brush back in her bag and hikes it up on her shoulder.

  We find Derek in a red leather booth, two menus waiting on the wooden table across from his. Cunningham’s has been in town for as long as I can remember. We’d gone there a lot in the years passed but lately had had better things to do in the morning. Like sleeping. Or school. You know. Occasionally we’d go before school if Parker or my mom could drive us, but otherwise it’s just too far to make the commute on foot and get to school on time unless we leave über early.

  The wall across from the entrance has a huge red brick fireplace, taking up a majority of the wall. A black gate covers the flames so no child can accidentally crawl inside and burn to smithereens. It’s fire-less today since they usually only light it in the winter, the hollow space empty and sad looking, filled with long dead ashes. The walls are a warm honey brown, a major contrast to the brightly colored bathroom. Decorating them are many paintings of nature scenery, framed photos of long lost family members, newspaper clippings, and awards for cleanliness and the like. I once stood here and read every single one of them. The owners, a kindly couple who were passed down the diner from the husband’s parents, are always glad to see us here.

  I slide in first and Maggie sits next to me.

  “All better?” Derek asks with a small smile.

  “Much,” I can’t help but say.

  His moods are giving me whiplash. One second he’s all anger, the next he’s like this. All cheery and smiles. What is with that?

  My thoughts are cut short by the
arrival of our waitress. She’s short and brunette, wearing a plain dark blue button up shirt and tan slacks. Her name tag reads Lucy.

  “Hi, I’m Lucy; I’ll be your server today. What can I get you all to drink?”

  She looks to Derek and Maggie for their orders. And then she looks at me for mine. I nearly drop my menu on the floor. Pain shoots through my shin as someone’s shoe meets my leg. I glare at Derek. He shakes his head at me. I order an orange juice and she moves away.

  “What was that for!?” I demand once she’s out of earshot, reaching down to rub the aching spot on my leg. It’s definitely going to bruise.

  “Do you want to create enemies?”

  “Her eyes . . . Did you see that too?”

  “Yes, but I know better than to provoke a Faery. Especially while I want to keep my life the way it is. Normal.”

  I look at him.

  “OK semi-normal,” he allows. “Besides, you need to get used to the fact that Faeries are everywhere, can do anything, and live practically like humans as I’m sure you’ve noticed. Their only downfall is the iron. Considering that this town isn’t too close to any big cities, it’s the ideal spot. So acquaint yourself with the bizarre because that’s your life now. You may as well get used to it.”

  I slump in my seat.

  “Look, I’m not trying to be mean,” he takes in my distraught expression. “I’m trying to prepare you. I didn’t have anyone to tell me what was normal and what wasn’t for a long time. Not til I met Nyla. So be grateful you have me. Besides, she was only half Fey. It’s not that big of a deal.”

  “Half Fey?” I ask, appalled. “You mean?” I trail off trying not to think too hard how that would be accomplished. Ew.

  “Sadly, it’s not all that uncommon.”

  Lucy returns with our drinks, cutting off any remark I may have had lying in wait. “Are you ready to order?” This time I’m prepared, so I don’t react as badly.

  We do. Cunningham’s is known for their awesome pancakes so I get mine with banana slices on them. Maggie gets an omelet and Derek orders a heaping pile of pancakes and a side of bacon.

  “You can never have too much bacon,” he says between mouthfuls.

  I laugh around a bite of syrup and banana coated goodness. “I don’t know about you, but I definitely could,” I say in all seriousness.

  “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

  “Vegetarian,” I admit.

  “Really? I would have never pegged you as the type,” he smiles, one corner of his mouth dimpling his tanned cheek.

  Maggie elbows me under the table.

  “What?” I hiss, turning on her.

  She does nothing but smirk at me, looking at Derek.

  I roll my eyes. “Whatever,” I mutter.

  Derek is puzzled, looking between us. “What’d I miss?”

  “Oh nothing,” Maggie sings, going back to her eggs.

  We leave.

  “Where to, ladies?” Derek asks as we get back in his Jeep. “If you’re not too tired, I know a place we can go for a few hours.”

  “Where?” I ask.

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “And if we are too tired?” Maggie inquires.

  “Then you can stay in the car and take a nice little nap while Kate and I have all the fun. How’s that sound?”

  “As if,” Maggie snorts. “But I’m sure you two wouldn’t mind,” she mutters so only I can hear her over Derek’s music that isn’t all that bad now that I’m used to it.

  “Hey Maggie?”

  “Yes?” all innocence.

  “Shut it.”

  “Fine, but you’ll be thanking me later.”

  “I doubt that.”

  Ten minutes later we’re parked in front of a wide expanse of yellowing grass and trees with dirt paths cutting through here and there for bicyclists and joggers.

  “The park? This is your big surprise? Talk about a letdown,” I grumble.

  “Au contraire. This is only part of it. Follow me.”

  He takes us down one of the paths leading into the more densely wooded area.

  “Now. What do you see?”

  “Is that a trick question? Trees. Dirt. Weeds. Grass. You know, things you usually see in a park. Oh look, it’s a squirrel. I’m shaking in my boots.” Maggie snorts.

  “Look again. This time, try to let yourself see what’s really there. Relax your mind. Let the truth of what’s here flood your senses.”

  I close my eyes, take a calming breath, and when I open them I try to truly see. Truly conceive the world for what it is. I gasp.

  We are surrounded by Faeries. Intimidatingly beautiful Faeries are everywhere; in trees, waltzing around an entranced teenage boy that was not there before, their moves fluid and vigorous. A figure made entirely of twigs and branches lounges near the base of a trunk sucking on blood red berries, their juices staining its spindly fingers. Pixies and gnomes traipse and flit about with no apparent destination. A blue skinned nixie plucks a robin midflight and bites off its head with needle sharp teeth, relishing in its kill as it crunches on its bones. Feathers and blood coats its chin.

  I shove my hand in my mouth for fear of letting loose a scream.

  Derek squeezes my shoulder reassuringly.

  A gasp sounds from my other side as Maggie stops mid stride. “How—”

  “Why is that boy here?” I say quietly to Derek.

  “A pet, I suppose. They like to keep them young.”

  “That's just revolting,” I scrunch up my nose. “Can’t we do anything?”

  “I wouldn’t advise it,” he shoots the dancers a disgusted look. “They’d gouge out your eyes quicker than you could get close enough to even touch the poor sap. We’ll have to talk to Ceara about it. Come on.”

  10. Ceara’s Domain We follow a trail to a very large clearing, skirting around the assorted Fey through the trees.

  “Don’t make yourself too conspicuous,” Derek warns as one particular Faery catches my eye and saunters towards us. He grabs my arm and tugs me after him away from the now pouting Fey as she sulks back, hissing at him. “Trust me, you don’t want their attention.” He glares at her when she starts coming for me again.

  I watch as Maggie plows ahead of us, not even flinching as something similar happens when a male Faery sporting long coppery hair croons in her ear. She sidesteps him and easily moves on.

  “How come you’re not babying her?” I ask, miffed.

  “Because Margaret can take care of herself rather exceptionally. It’s you I need to worry about.”

  “Well don’t,” I say, crossing my arms. “I don’t need your help or your chivalry.”

  He gives my arm a pull and I flip around to face him. “When are you going to stop this?”

  “No clue what you’re talking about,” I mutter.

  “That! All of your hostility towards me!”

  “Let go of my arm, Derek.”

  “No. Not until you answer me. Why do you hate me so much?”

  I sigh and rake my free hand through my hair. “I don’t hate you. Don’t give me that look, I don’t. I don’t particularly trust you. But I don’t hate you. Now let go.”

  He releases me.

  “Thank you.”

  We find Maggie sitting on a felled tree.

  “Took you long enough.”

  But I’m not paying attention to her. I’m looking at the huge monster of a house that’s taking up what was just an empty field but when I let my mind relax, boom, there it is. It seems more like a castle than any house or mansion. Intricately woven branches make up the entirety of it, even a tower like structure that reigns over the rest. The weird thing is that it is alive. Healthy green leaves sprout just as they would from a tree, flower blossoms bloom, and I swear I see a few fruits hanging. It’s like the world’s biggest and most diverse tree. There are even windows, perfectly square holes strategically placed well, all over the place. Even in the tower. But there’s no visible door.

  As we near it,
though, I see a handle protruding from a rectangular outline. A door perhaps?

  Derek reaches out and pulls on it and indeed it swings out revealing a well-lit hallway. Birds chirp from somewhere. I cast my eyes skyward to find one but my search is fruitless.

  A tiny little man flits over to us, carried on silver wings.

  “Hey, Kit, where’s Ceara?”

  “Her Majesty is in her throne room,” Kit says. “I would not travel through there now, young master, she is quite busy this morn.”

  “Aw, Kit. I’m sure she’ll understand. Much appreciated.”

  Kit flutters off. “Tha—”

  “No!” Derek’s hand clamps over my mouth before I can finish. “You never say thank you to a Faery. You’ll owe them for as long as you live or until they think of a favor they deem good enough for you to be free of them. Like your first born child, or eternal servitude. You do not want to be in a Faeries debt. Got that?”

  I nod, eyes wide with shock and I admit; fear. My first born child? What the hell?

  “I’m going to let go now.”

  “Sheesh!” I grumble. “You could have told me that before now. You know, you aren’t a very good teacher.”

  “I—”

  “Holy cow! I actually have you at a loss for words! Score one for me.” I laugh at his stricken face. “Oh, come on. I’m only kidding.”

  He makes as if to punch me in the arm but I scurry away, out of his reach.

  Derek shakes his head. “Let’s go see Ceara.”

  The throne room is down a flight of stairs and behind ornate double doors sporting two carved faces as big as I am tall, the left one looks old and has many lines etched into its “flesh", the other young and smooth. Their eyes are closed half-moons, expressions impassive.

  “Morning, Rowan, Penn.” Derek greets them as if they’re old friends.

  The faces’ eyes open, revealing glossy onyx orbs. They blink. “Good morn to you master Carson. What brings you down here so early?” the one on the right speaks.

  “I wish to speak to her Majesty.”

  “Her Majesty has business to attend,” says the old one.

  “Aw, Rowan, can’t you let me in? It’ll take but five minutes of her time. I’m sure she won’t mind.”