by N. K. Vir
The trolley finally made a turn onto Derby Street the lights stayed green allowing the trolley to continue on to its next stop at Pickering wharf. At the wharf a familiar face boarded the trolley and having spotted Annie made his way back to her. Annie took several deep breathes of fresh air before Stinky Pete sat in the empty seat in front of her.
“Hey girlie,” Pete greeted her smiling and giving her a good look at his yellowing teeth as well as a good whiff of his stale cigar breath. “Who’s your friend?” He said pointing a chewed up cigar at Duncan.
“Pete this is my new neighbor Duncan. Duncan this is Pete,” she said introducing the two men.
“Is he okay? He looks green to me. He’s not going to boot on me is he?” Pete asked leaning away.
Annie glanced over at Duncan and realized he did not in fact look well. “Uh? I think he’s just a little car sick.” Duncan nodded once stiffly. “Um, luckily we’re getting out at the next stop.” Yes, lucky indeed as Annie caught another whiff of Pete’s unique aroma.
The rest of Derby Street passed by in a blur as Annie tried to keep a polite distance from Pete. When the edge of the willows came into view Annie felt as green and nauseous as Duncan looked. The trolley had barely stopped as Annie jumped to her feet. She liked Pete and his clever wit she just preferred not to be sitting next to him.
“Later Pete! Come on Duncan, this is our stop.”
Just then the driver’s foot slipped and the trolley lurched forward causing Annie to bump lightly against Duncan. Two sounds happened simultaneously, Duncan hissed in pain and Annie yelped as her shin slammed into the bench Pete was sitting on.
“You ok girlie?” Pete asked concerned.
Duncan stood quickly stepping away from her. “I’m verra sorry Annie are you alright?”
Annie frowned up at him rubbing her bruised shin. “Just bumped my shin I’m fine,” she assured both men. “Come on Duncan let’s get off this death trap.”
He stepped back allowing her to lead the way. When she got into the driver’s line of sight she shot him a death glare and quickly exited the trolley.
“Are you alright?” She asked Duncan. “I have no idea where that guy got his operator license.” She frowned at the trolley as the bell rang and slowly pulled away.
She turned to look at Duncan who had barley spoken at all. He stood very still, almost rigid, and seemed to be keeping his distance from her. All of this was strange enough, but there was an odd look in his eyes that Annie couldn’t quite read, at least his normal color was returning.
But why was he standing so far away from her?
Ever since she had met him he always seemed to be next to her, near her, close enough to touch but never once doing so, not even casually. That struck Annie as odd. He had shaken everyone’s hand last night; he had touched everyone last night, everyone but her that is.
“What are ye thinking about?” He asked quietly.
Annie realized she must be scowling and forced a smile on her face. “Nothing really,” she lied. “Are you feeling better? I’m sorry I didn’t realize you have motion sickness. I used to get it all the time as a kid. My father used to have to line the backseat of the car with newspaper so I wouldn’t make a mess.” She slapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes widened. What was it about this man that made her say and do the stupidest things?
He coughed, his mouth twitched and his chest seemed to be jumping up and down like he was trying to hold back…laughter?
“Are you laughing at me?” She asked narrowing her eyes at him. This did nothing but make him laugh harder. He was bent over with the force of it the sound of his laughter was infectious and Annie found herself trying to control her own fits of the giggles. She must have looked ridiculous because Duncan’s hands now rested on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. His laughter quickly ended when his hand brushed a spot on his leg and he sucked in his breath as though he were in pain. Annie quickly remembered that was the exact spot where her knee hit him when the trolley had lurched.
She took a few steps closer, “Oh god Duncan, I’m so sorry, did I hurt you?”
He held up a hand halting her forward progress. He looked up at her giving her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Tis nothing,” he said with a wave of his hand as he stretched and stood up straight. Annie noticed him flexing and straitening his leg as if to test it. “See,” he said, flashing her brilliant smile. “Tis fine.”
“Stupid knobby knees,” she muttered not thinking Duncan could hear her.
“I’ve yet to see them but I am sure they’re perfect like the rest of ye,” he whispered suddenly standing very close to her now. He was so close that she had to tip her head back to look him in the eyes. In the waning sunlight his eyes seem to shift changing color from blue to almost gray. The two colors seemed to swirl around his pupils like a kaleidoscope. A distant memory pulled at her brain but she ignored it content just to fall deeper into those stormy eyes.
“You have the most beautifully unusual eyes,” she said out loud. Of course she hadn’t meant to but right now she really didn’t care if her filter was working.
“Then you have not looked in the mirror lately,” he replied.
Annie snickered and rolled her eyes. “Kat says it’s because I have Faerie blood in me.” She really needed to get her filter up and running again. Now that she had broken eye contact with him she felt silly and embarrassed, and also slightly wobbly.
“Maybe you do,” he said quietly not looking at her. Instead his eyes were focused on the gentle waves licking the rocky shore in the distance.
With the moment over Annie went back to her comfort zone putting on her tour guide hat. “That’s Dead Horse Beach,” she said following his gaze and ignoring his comment. “The great fire caused an abundant amount of dead horses so the locals buried them here. At least that’s one of the legends. I know it’s creepy but this town thrives on creepy. Come on I’ll show you the rest of the Willows.”
Duncan fell into step next to her. He listened while she commented on more local history. They walked down restaurant row ending at a large building that sold all sorts of treats but was best known for its popcorn bars. She ordered two handing one to Duncan.
“Every time I come down here I have to get one of these. It’s just popcorn I know but it’s kind of the nostalgia of it. For the last century or so people would come down here dressed in their Sunday best just to walk in the cool ocean breeze and eat these,” she said wistfully taking a large bite of her popcorn bar. A stray crumb fell on the paved pathway and was quickly rescued by a strutting pigeon.
Annie squealed. “Go on shoo,” she hissed at the bird. The pigeon cooed undeterred by Annie’s frantic hand gestures. A seagull waddled over to join the pigeon and both birds sent Annie bolting a few feet away. Duncan caught up to her chucking. Annie felt her face go red in response.
“I’m not a big fan of birds,” she explained. “They terrify me for some reason.”
Duncan wisely remained silent of the subject. “You really love history,” he stated.
Annie shrugged as she popped the last of her bar into her mouth. “My father has his legends I have my facts.”
“Do you get along?”
“Sure. He’s a little over protective at times and stubborn. His nose is usually buried in some old book and he loves his mythology. Most girls get read cute little fairy tales at bedtime. But not Manny Locke’s daughter,” she said pointing a thumb at herself. “Nope, I got Celtic fairy tales, and not the ones that ended with happily ever after. My father’s favorite was the tale of Oisin.”
“Aye, I know that one well,” Duncan said quietly with a distant look in his eyes.
“I remember not thinking the story was fair. A beautiful Faerie princess travels from one world to another, finds her true love only to have him taken away forever. I mean come on if she and her father were that powerful why not just go and rescue him?”
Duncan didn’t answer her and as
ked a question of his own instead. “How often did your father tell you that one?”
“More often than I care to remember,” she admitted. “But do you know what?” She asked turning to look up at the ancient willow that loomed over them. They had managed to do a complete circle around the park by now almost ending where they had started.
“What?” he prompted from somewhere behind her.
“Every time he told that story I always thought it would end different. Of course it never did.”
“Annie,“ Duncan was trying to say something to her but she wasn’t listening
Something high up in the willow had caught her attention. Lights seem to flicker and dance as they slowly drifted down from the top of the tree. Annie watched mesmerized by the tiny lights as they flickered from blue to green. A small voice in her head whispered something in a language she didn’t understand. Her childhood memories took over giving her a childlike translation, “Faerie lights”. Annie shook her head allowing the rational side of her mind to retake the helm.
“Fireflies?” She said tilting her head questioningly. But even that didn’t make sense. First off it was too early in the year for fireflies; secondly Annie never remembered seeing fireflies in Salem, ever.
“Dryads,” Duncan whispered in her ear.
An involuntary shiver ran through her as his warm breath tickled her ear. Annie closed her eyes trying to hold on to the sensation. She could feel the heat that radiated off is body; if she were to just lean back, just slightly, she would be flush against his chest. She swayed slightly trying to cause accidental contact but Duncan seemed to anticipate her move and stepped around her to stand in front of her.
“Tree spirits,” he explained further.
“I know what dryads are,” she snapped. “They’re just another silly myth,” she said waving a hand in front of her face.
“Stop!” he commanded. Annie’s hand stopped mid swat as she stared at Duncan in shock. He looked angry. Annie took a cautious step back, then another. Duncan reached a hand out towards her to stop her at the last moment he ripped his hand back. Annie heard him growl as he raked his hand through his dark hair in frustration. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
“Annie,” he said softer. “I- there are things I need to tell you. Things you need to know. If I had more time,” he said raking another hand through his hair.
As Duncan struggled with his words Annie heard the distinctive ring of the Trolley. Her eyes widened in a panic. “Time,” she squealed. “Oh my god I’m going to be late.” She whipped her head towards the main road and saw the trolley just coming into sight. She turned back to Duncan, “I have to go can you find your way back?”
“Annie wait please-“
She held up a silencing hand. “I like you Duncan. I do. Probably more than I should. But I refuse to fall down the same rabbit hole as my father did. Now can you find your way back or not?”
He gave a curt nod and she ran to catch the last trolley of the day.
Chapter Seven
The Rat Boys
After a short walk Duncan reached the beginning of a small row of shops that lined both sides of Derby Street. He knew he was close to his temporary home but had no desire to return to it. Things had not gone as smoothly as he had hoped. She was more stuck in the human realm than he realized; legends, myths- that’s what she had called the history of her people. Her father had obviously taught her the old stories but why? If he indeed was her abductor why try to make her remember? Why did he repeatedly tell her the story of Oisin? He seemed to be getting more questions than answers. He needed time. Time to think and time to plan, and time was just something he did not have.
Duncan allowed his feet to carry him, unsure and uncaring of his destination. Thoughts, ideas and questions danced through his mind like the dryads in the willow. Duncan’s mouth turned down at the memory.
He had been enjoying his afternoon with Annie; with the exception of the ride on the trolley. Between the rutted streets and the awful stench of the man in front of them he indeed had felt ill. It had also taken a great deal of strength to keep his body from accidently bumping into hers. Not that it mattered he thought absently tubbing the sore spot on his leg. He had been horrified by the contact; terrified that it had caused her pain. As much as he was affected she seemed equally unaffected. On more than one occasion during their walk through the willows he had almost tempted fate. The last time he had come so close his lips hoovering a breath away from her ear, he had felt her sway, and wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and pull her tightly against him. But then he spotted the dryads.
Dryads were normally shy. Like most of the Fae that still inhabited the human realm they tended to nature leaving mortals alone. But Annie was not mortal; she was Sidhe, she was the bhanphrionsa. She was something they had not seen in a long while. All of the Fae would be attracted to her. She was the essence of life, the spark. Like him they would crave her presence; she was hope and joy, life and love. For now only the good, the Seelie seemed to be aware of her. But with the good came the bad and that was what scared Duncan the most.
He sighed and his vision came into focus. He recognized where he was now. He stood at the base of Annie’s street facing a small harbor. One lone three-masted sailing vessel floated in the harbor. In the distance he could see that several smaller vessels were anchored just off shore. It truly was a breath taking site. He wandered closer to the large ship. As he approached his nostrils were assaulted by the stench of rotting fish mixed with stale smoke; and there was something familiar about that putrid stench.
He followed the smell around an old wooden building and there sitting on the dock was the old man Pete from the trolley.
“Took ya long enough Faeriedae,” he snorted. A long trail of smoke chased the words out of his mouth drifting up towards Duncan. With the wave of his hand Duncan cleared the air in front of him and scowled down at the old man.
“I was not aware that we were scheduled to meet,” Duncan said.
The old man laughed at him flashing Duncan his yellowed teeth. “Well we’re having one now so get down here and take a load off,” he ordered turning his attention to the water below his feet.
Duncan jumped down onto the dock. A splashing sound followed by Gaelic and English curses emanated from the water underneath Pete’s feet. Duncan peered over the edge of the dock to see three filthy, almost childlike creatures throwing mud and muck at each other. Their dirt covered faces turned up to stare back at him. Three pairs of unusually large brown eyes blinked up at him. They smiled creepily at him, not one mouth showing a full set of teeth. Their long noses flared as they tried to catch some elusive scent.
“You smell like her,” one of them said cocking a mud filled fist back.
“No he don’t Darry,” said another one.
The one named Darry readjusted his aim and hurled a mud ball at the one who had just spoken. “Shut up Remy. Yer sniffers broken. Don’t ye know who that be,” he said pointing a mucky finger up at Duncan.
Remy shook his head as he tried to free his eyes from Darry’s latest mud ball. “No,” he said as some of the slop ran down into his mouth. “Do you Warren?” He asked the third member of their mud party.
“Course I do,” Warren said confidently. “He’s uh- uh- What was his name again Pete?”
Pete let out a wheezing cackle followed by a coughing fit. He looked down at the chewed cigar then threw it down at Darry, Remy and Warren like it suddenly offended him. The three wrestled in the mud cursing and punching each other to get to the cigar.
“Ignore the Ratboys,” he told Duncan.
“Was there something you all wanted?” Duncan asked trying to be polite by hold onto his waning patience.
“See you came back without the girl lover boy,” Pete teased eliciting an angry growl from Duncan. “I meant no offense,” he said holding up his gnarled hands in surrender. Duncan relaxed slightly. “Touchy this one, huh?” He said to the Ratboys be
low who were now fighting over a new piece of garbage. “Listen,” he said struggling to his feet. “We Fir Darrigs maybe smelly but we ain’t stupid,” he said as a new round of curses bellowed out from below. “Well I’m not stupid,” he clarified.
“Good to know. Now if you’ll excuse me-“ Duncan said trying to escape the Ratboys and their smell; but Pete’s next words stopped him.
“Did you know there’s a Redcap in town?”
Duncan froze.
“Huh, thought you Riders could sniff out trouble,” Pete muttered.
“A Redcap?” Duncan asked over his shoulder.
“Yep, real nasty one! Been a while if ya know what I mean.”
Duncan shuddered at the old man’s words. A Redcap meant the Unseelie had eyes in Salem. “Where?” Duncan asked.
Pete took an involuntary step back as Duncan turned to face him. Duncan could imagine what he looked like to the old Fir Darrig. The warrior that dwelled in him was clawing to come out. His eyes would turn a dark steely gray; his face would grow taut with grim determination as bloodlust pumped through his veins. His chest began to heave as his lungs tried to capture more oxygen to feed his tensing muscles. His hand opening and closing the familiar itch on his palms as his sword arm craved to feel the extra weight of his sword and shield. At this moment the Battle Crow rode him hard whispering of victory and the spoils of war.
A calming hesitant hand rested gently on his shoulder. Duncan’s eyes snapped open catching the cloudy blue-eyed gaze of the old Fir Darrig.
“It’s possible he is unaware of her, like attracts like. We who align ourselves with the Seelie have been gathering here. And-,” He pointed a twisted finger at a small figure walking down the street. “We are not the only ones.”
Duncan recognized the small woman from the night before. In the darkening twilight the shimmer of her druid blood seemed to pulse around her as it expanded and contracted. Duncan could almost hear the sizzle of her magick.
“Druids,” Duncan whispered.