The Autumn Fairy

by Brittany Fichter

  “Now I’ll hear no such talk.” The firin threw down his work and glared at Katy through piercing gray eyes. “You are worth far too much to just let them have their way. To just...just give yourself up!”

  She met his angry gaze sadly. “I used to believe that. But it’s been getting worse.”

  He picked up his sewing again, but his lips were still thin. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean the magic keeps getting stronger. And not just when I want it.” She stood and went to the wooden table in the corner and poured herself a cup of water from the cracked pitcher that rested in its center. “I killed a tree two days ago.”

  “Did you mean to?”

  She shook her head. “No, but that’s what makes it worse. One of these days, I’ll forget to guard myself, and I’ll accidentally hurt Emma. Or even worse, I won’t be able to stop it, and I’ll end up killing her.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “I’ve hurt someone before. It would be very easy to do it again.”

  “And when did that happen?”

  Katy opened her mouth to answer. But answering would mean saying his name. And she wasn’t ready for that. Not tonight. “Of course,” she said instead, “I might not need to take such drastic measures to protect Emma if you would just tell me what I am.”

  His mouth twitched. “You are a young woman who needs to see her worth.”

  Katy grimaced. “I know what I’m worth. I’m worth trouble. Destruction. Chaos. Everyone and everything that gets close to me suffers.”

  “Nonsen—”

  “And I am telling the truth with every part of my soul, that if I cannot find a way to end this...curse, I will find a way to make sure that Emma doesn’t suffer for it. She’s suffered too much since taking me in.”

  “Actually,” Firin Reaghan pushed his spectacles up his nose, “it was her daughter, Maire, that took you in. You were only a month old, and Emma wanted nothing to do with you at first.”

  “I know that. But it doesn’t matter. She is the reason I’ve survived all these years. Even after Maire died, Emma looked after me.”

  Firin Reaghan put his sewing down and his sun-weathered face softened. “You think it was just because of Emma that you survived?”

  Katy swallowed to try and remove the sudden lump in her throat. “And look how they ended up. Sir Christopher is dead, and Peter...” But she couldn’t go on. Traitorous tears were streaming silently down her cheeks. She felt the firin’s hand on her shoulder as she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to make them stop.

  “Nothing that happened to them was your fault. Sir Christopher knew what he was doing when he rescued you from the forest. And Peter knew you were different when he befriended you. He was different, too, you know.”

  Katy snorted. “Because he was rich and his father was the king’s favored knight. He never killed anything by accident.” Katy held her own pale hands in front of her as if to prove her point. “But you know that if you don’t tell me what I am, I’ll just assume everyone is right and that I’m an olc.” She glared up at him through wet eyelashes. “I found one of Sir Christopher’s books.”

  The firin’s mouth twitched.

  “I know he hid those books from me on purpose, and I know you hid them after he died.” She squared her shoulders. “It all just seems an elaborate plan to convince me that I’m not an olc, when all the evidence points to the contrary, particularly according to the book that I did find.”

  “Is that so?” The firin sounded bored, but Katy continued.

  “And if he’s right, and I am an olc, then my twenty-first birthday—”

  “Olcs, as our people know them, are figments of man’s addled imagination. There is no such thing as an olc.” He raised his eyebrows. “No matter what your book says.”

  Ktay stuck her chin out defiantly. “So what am I then?”

  The firin sighed and looked out his darkened window. “Much of the knowledge firins used to keep has been lost over the years. Destroyed or forgotten. But,” his eyes narrowed. “I know that you are not an olc.”

  “Then why did Sir Christopher forbid me from venturing into the forest?”

  The firin sat down on his bed again and took up Katy’s second shoe. “I did not say there are no other creatures on this isle. Only that olcs, as our stories have them, are nonexistent.”

  “But I am different! Why try so hard to convince me I’m not?”

  “We never said you weren’t different, only that...” He sighed. “Do you remember the prophecy Sir Christopher made you memorize as a child?”

  Katy frowned. “The one from the stories about the ancient kings?”

  “King, not kings. But yes, that one.”

  She rolled her eyes but did her best to remember. “A king will one day appear and unite the isles beneath one crown once more. In the shadow of the Tree of Diadems—”

  They both jumped as the front door banged three times.

  “Quick! Behind the wine trellis!” the firin whispered, pushing her shoes under his bedcovers.

  Katy obeyed and squeezed herself behind the tall wooden wine rack that sat behind the door. She sank to the ground just as the priest opened the bolt and the door banged open.

  “Where is she?” Bearnard growled, his words slightly slurred. Apparently, he and his friends had buried their failure in a few too many mugs of ale before continuing their search. Katy could smell their reek from her hiding place. “The little tramp always liked you. Now where is she?”

  “I’ll not have you barging into my home unannounced and drunk,” Firin Reaghan said with his usual calm. “You can come back in the morning when you’re sober.” As he tried to close the door, however, Bearnard put his boot in the way.

  “She was practicing magic tonight, Firin. Your Atharo might have something to say about that.”

  “You know nothing about Atharo.” The firin’s words were crisp and punctuated. “Of course, I would be happy to teach you about him tomorrow if you wish to come back and—”

  “No one believes your superstitions, old man.”

  “Whether or not that is true, I’m sure your father would love to hear of your unwelcome intrusion into my home at this ungracious hour of the night.” The firin crossed his arms and stared at Bearnard with that look that made grown men squirm. “In fact, I can go see Governor Odhran now if you wish—”

  “No.” Bearnard moved his boot from the door, but just as Firin Reaghan began to shut the door he stopped him one more time. “But you tell that little witch that we will find her. And when we do, my father will have no such mercy. He’s the one who banished her in the first place.”

  As soon as they were gone and the bolt was once again in place, Katy wanted to collapse with relief. But every minute she spent at his home, the more danger Firin Reaghan was in. Just like everyone else she had ever loved.

  “I need to go,” she muttered as she put the mended shoe on and searched for the other. “Emma will be waiting for me.” As she slipped on her shoe, however, Katy felt a hand on her arm. When she looked up, the firin’s face was gentle.

  “Atharo never makes mistakes.”

  “Firin, as much as I would like that to be true, I must be honest with myself. I am dangerous. Atharo knows that.” She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know if this life was a test, but if it was, I know I’ve failed.”

  “Everyone fails. The true test is who turns to Him in their failure. The mere fact that you desire to be good, that you want to keep others safe is a testament to who and what you are inside.”

  She reached out and gently squeezed his robed arm. “I am grateful for your confidence. You’ve been a better friend than I could ever ask for, but...” She glanced at the door. “I stay now because of Emma. But as soon as she’s gone, I think it might be best to let the forest have me.”

  “And how will that solve anything? It won’t change who you are.”

  “But it might protect people from whatever it is that I am. Goodbye, F
irin. Thank you for your help with my shoes. And for hiding me.” She opened the back door and pulled her tattered cloak over her head. “I’ll send you word when I can.” Then she stepped back out into the night.

  3

  The Choice

  Katy should have gone straight home, but instead of stopping at the little cottage, she continued on the overgrown road until the shadow of the large farmhouse loomed on the horizon. The moon was bright enough that the slanted roofline showed against the backdrop of the mountains in the distance. From where she stood, the village’s port was hidden, but she could just make out the line of trees in the distance that she’d skirted earlier that night.

  Katy felt an ancient ache as she approached the great house. The roof hadn’t always been slanted, nor the windows covered in dust and dirt. But years of storms and neglect had taken their toll, and the house was an empty shell of what it had once been.

  But now was not the time for reminiscing. Katy swallowed the lump in her throat and padded up to the door. Despite its abandoned appearance, she paused on the threshold, listening for any intruder that might have sought refuge while she was gone. When she heard no sound, she pushed the door open and stole inside.

  It didn’t matter how many times she came, there was always the temptation to linger and chase the memories that were constantly at the edge of her mind. Standing on the back of his chair while they practiced their reading at the kitchen table. Sitting on the back step while she watched Sir Christopher train his son in the art of swordplay. Or rather, tried to train him. Peter was hopelessly clumsy. Katy smiled to herself, then shook her head and forced herself through the front room, past the kitchen, and over to the corner. After pulling the rug back and a few moments of searching the floorboards with her hands, she found the loose board and tugged.

  The dust made her cough, as it had been a while since she’d visited last, but as always, the trapdoor lifted and she made her way down the little ladder into the hidden room. Unlike the rest of the house, she had only become familiar with this room after Peter had gone, after he’d shoved her down inside and she’d spent three days hoping someone would find her. It was then that she had discovered the great store of food Sir Christopher had stocked.

  As she searched the now scant shelves for remaining supplies, the revelation that he’d kept enough food to supplement Katy and Emma’s health for the last eight years was astounding. Everyone tried to keep food stored up. Even Sir Odhran’s family, rich as the governor was. But Katy had never known anyone to have so many supplies. As always, she couldn’t help wondering what he had been planning for.

  Once her bag was full of dry beans and corn, Katy started to move back up the stairs, refusing to let her mind wander again. When she took her first step back up the ladder, however, she felt something fall to her feet.

  She bent to pick it up, but in the dark it took her a moment to feel around the dusty floor before she was able to find what felt like a piece of parchment. Katy was so familiar with the layout of the house that she didn’t need light to guide her around the furniture. But she had been in this exact spot dozens of times, and never before had she found a parchment here. It must have stuck to the food bags she’d taken. When she found it, she hesitated only for a moment before shoving it into her bag and continuing her return up the stairs.

  But as she placed her hand on the front door, a sound from the outside froze her in her place.

  “Perhaps we could stay here. Just for the night,” a woman’s voice said.

  “Roof doesn’t look secure,” a man answered her.

  Katy slung her bag over her shoulder and darted over to the window, where she peered out through one of the ratty curtains.

  A family stood out on the road, staring up at the house in the moonlight. Besides the mother and father, there were two small children, and the woman looked as though she might be with child again.

  Jealousy warred with compassion inside Katy. The thought of having someone inside the last remnants of her sacred confines was difficult to imagine. But at the same time, she couldn’t leave them outside. No one would stir in the village for another hour or so. The family would be stuck in the muddy streets after traveling all night from wherever they came from. She was about to move to the back door, where she could leave unseen, when something snapped outside and startled her.

  Before she could rein it in, she felt her power escape. Above her, to her horror, a window crashed as though someone had tossed a rock through it. She stared at her hands in shock. She’d only ever broken objects by touching them, and that was bad enough. Now she could destroy from a distance, too?

  “Rolland, did you see that?”

  “The house has a spirit. We can’t stop here! Go! Go!”

  Katy peeked through the window again, but to her chagrin, they were rushing away as fast as their little cart and horse would allow.

  She watched until their figures had disappeared down the hill into the village in the predawn light. An emptiness stirred inside her, threatening to crush her lungs, and with it came a deeper understanding of what she needed to do.

  Even as she’d left the firin’s house, Katy had wondered if remaining in Downing might be possible. If she just stayed out of sight, she had hoped, or maybe if she moved to Sir Christopher’s barn, she might not have to leave.

  But now, as she left Sir Christopher’s old home and headed slowly back to the cottage, the futility of such plans was clear. As soon as Emma was gone, Katy would have to leave. She would put herself as far from society as she could get, perhaps roam the woods until she found a corner of the isle that was so forlorn no one would ever find her or even want to look for her there. Firin Reaghan might not want her to know what she was, and Sir Christopher had done his best to make sure she never knew her true origins, but olc or no olc, Katy was dangerous. For the sake of all, she needed to leave. Or just like the window she’d broken in the upper room, the humans would pay the price.

  “Katrin,” Emma called out from her chair as Katy walked in, “is that you?”

  “Who else would it be?” Katy smiled and laid her bag on the table before going over to the fire and stoking the embers. “You really shouldn’t use my name like that until you know who it is. If it was someone else, then they’d know you were guilty of hiding me for sure.”

  “You’re home late.”

  “I went over to the big house. We needed a few supplies.”

  The old woman shook her head, her milky blue eyes hard. “You’re going to get us in trouble one of these days. Maire didn’t know that she was taking in a simpleton when she chose you.”

  “A simpleton I may be,” Katy said, pulling the food pouches from her bag, “but at least I’m a simpleton with food.”

  Emma eyed the little satchels on the table. “Huh. For all the trouble you caused me last night, the least you could have done was get some milk from the cow on the way in.”

  Katy nodded at the bucket she’d brought in with her bag. “Already done. Did they come back again?”

  Emma’s wrinkles deepened with her scowl. “Aye, they did. You cause me a lot of trouble, you know. Going to get me on the wrong side of the law.”

  “You already are on the wrong side of the law.” Katy laughed as she prepared to crush the corn with their mortar and pestle. “You’re harboring a witch...or an olc or whatever they’re calling me these days.”

  Emma stood slowly and hobbled over to the table. Katy went and moved her chair along with her then went back to crushing the corn. She worked in silence for a long time before she realized Emma was staring right at her.

  “What is it?” She began to mix the meal with the milk.

  “Always knew something wasn’t right about you. But I never thought they would be so ferocious in looking for it.”

  “Ah, well, no need to worry about that now.” Katy mustered a smile as she began to pat the corn cakes into little balls. “We’re safe and fed for the moment.”

  And Emma would stay
that way, Katy determined. No need to worry her with the events of the night. No need to tell her that Katy had made the decision that would change the rest of her life. For now they were as they’d been for a long time. Afterward, Katy would find a new home where no one chased her and no one was nearby to get hurt. And for the first time in years, Katy felt a wave of wary peace.

  4

  Wild

  “Miss?”

  Katy paused, her fingers still hovering over the berries. A week had passed since Bearnard’s little hunt, and she should have known better than to come out during the day. But then, she hadn’t expected to see any travelers so far east, not with the rumors of the forest growing by the day. Still, the voice was unfamiliar, and as they had already seen her, it would be better not to raise suspicion by running.

  She turned to see three men on the road. Their clothes were common but neat, and all three had horses, although one, the tallest, had dismounted. “Can I help you?” she called back.

  “Aye. Would you be willing to sell some of those berries to three hungry travelers?”

  Katy was about to say no and continue on her way until several golden coins caught in the late afternoon sun and glimmered in the man’s hand. Thoughts of all the food Emma could purchase with so many coins sprang unbidden to her mind. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d sold food to travelers.

  She nodded and smiled before making her way across the field to the road.

  “You’re a sight after staring at these two for the last few weeks,” the short man on the last horse said. Katy didn’t miss the way his eyes roamed her figure.

  “I think what my companion means to say,” the tall one glared at his friend, “is that we’ve found fewer passersby on the road than we expected.” He gestured at her bucket. “So how about those berries?”