by Alicia Gaile
"I think so," I said, surprising myself. I scuffed my shoe on a patch of packed sludge. I'd found the name a few weeks ago in a book I checked out from the library. I scoured through old names trying to find one worthy of a girl created by magic. However, on the off-chance she turned out to be as plain and ordinary as I was, I didn’t want to saddle her with something too grand.
Heather tilted her head and smiled at me, inviting me to confide. She watched me closely, as if my answer mattered. The town gossip must be awfully slow for her to take such an interest in what I named my child.
"Eirawen," I mumbled finally before shoving the head of the gingerbread woman in my mouth. "It means, 'white as snow'."
Triumph lit her eyes before she clapped her hands with an excited squeal.
"Oh, how perfect! Like a fairy princess!"
I inhaled sharply and shot her a sideways look. That was a little too on-the-nose for my peace of mind. Heather just closed her eyes and repeated the name under her breath as if she was murmuring some incantation. It kind of freaked me out, and my last bite of cookie formed a painful lump as it went down.
"You are going to have a baby shower." She made it a statement. "There's not much time left." She rubbed my belly before I could stop her, and I clenched my teeth against a growl. It was bad enough she hugged my arm without permission, but my belly was off-limits, and I took a deliberate step sideways to break loose.
With the loss of her body heat I hugged my jacket tighter around me. We were nearly to the top of the hill. I could see the side entrance to the drug store.
"I don't think so," I said, ducking my head. "I get enough attention as it is."
Her smile flickered with something like impatience. She stopped walking abruptly and caught my arm to turn me to face her. Her heavy sigh floated up between us like a thin, silver ghost.
"I know you don’t want to say who the father is, but he knows, doesn't he?"
"Oh, he knows," I said dryly before I could catch myself.
She pulled us to a stop right beside a public trash can. The smell of clotted dairy from someone’s half-eaten meal triggered an unpleasant reminder of my earliest experiences with morning sickness. The school cafeteria trash cans turned my stomach then. The blend of mingling, soggy, decomposing food turned me on my heel and sent me sprinting to the bathrooms for three days straight before I finally broke down and went to see the school nurse. By the time I got there my symptoms disappeared, so naturally she assumed I just wanted an excuse to get out of class, but when the smell of her tuna sandwich nearly warranted a call to the janitor, Nurse Harriet asked in a prim, pointed voice whether or not I was sexually active.
"No offense.” Heather barged into my moment of reflection, "but once she's old enough to start looking like her parents don't you think everyone else will figure out who he is too?"
I nearly lost my grip on the plastic bag. Good grief, I hoped not! What would I do if she grew antlers and sprouted fur?
Regaining my composure, I shook my head.
"I doubt anyone around here would know him even if she turns out to look just like him." Please don't let her look just like him! I put my hand on my belly to send the wish straight through my skin.
There was something terrifying and beautiful about his appearance, how his features shifted between animal and man, but he had the luxury of belonging to another world. I knew how it felt to be an outsider and unwanted. I nearly choked on a rush of tears that my daughter might experience that same pain.
"Have you talked to him recently?" I frowned. Heather thought she knew who he was. "If you're having trouble contacting him I'd be happy to help," she continued, eager for an opportunity to involve herself.
"It's not Ian," I said flatly. I wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or annoyed that everyone thought he was the father after the way he and his friends humiliated me. It definitely didn’t paint me in a very flattering light, but all things considered my reputation never stood much of a chance anyway.
"Really, sweetie.," Heather tossed her hair again looking miffed, "I'm not stupid."
"Things would be a lot easier if he was, but Ian never gave me the time of day."
That part wasn't hard for anyone to believe. She opened her mouth to argue, but I spoke up before she could speak again.
"Look, if he wants to be a part of her life he knows where to find me.” I said it more to shut her up than because I believed it myself. He was more like a genie who granted a bizarre twist on my wish and then disappeared in a whirl of snowflakes and wind. That last part was another reason that drew me to my daughter's name.
Heather heaved a dramatic sigh, and I braced for more advice I didn't want or need.
"Gwen, they're not like us. They come into our lives and turn our worlds upside-down because they don't understand us and we don't mean anything to them. But something they do understand is honor and duty. If you let him know that you need him, I'm sure he'll see that you're taken care of. You can't do this on your own. It's only going to get harder."
I frowned and reached behind me to massage some of the strain gathering in my lower back. Considering she married her high school sweetheart, that sounded like a pretty pessimistic view of men coming from Heather. Maybe her picture-perfect life wasn’t so perfect after all.
"I think he's done enough, don't you?" I said finally. Let her think what she wanted to think. I didn't have an explanation she would understand. Heather spent her whole life hearing that she was special. She couldn't imagine how it felt to be so ordinary it hurt. But now I knew a secret that set me apart from everyone else. I could see faeries, and they'd given me an unimaginable gift. So what if I faced a few hardships along the way? I was still alive to face them, and soon I would have my baby girl to create the loving family I'd never known.
The wind blew hard against us, tearing at Heather's hair. A swirl of shadows just behind her gave me the impression of a wolfish smile and gleaming teeth. I didn't try and look harder. I knew if I turned the phantom would disappear.
"When was the last time you saw him?" Her voice came out harder, demanding the answers I refused to give anybody else. My scalp prickled.
We weren’t alone on the street anymore. I wasn’t sure whether to feel good about that or worried. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, just the sensation of warm breath fanning the back of my neck. I told myself it was friendly, but I couldn't be entirely sure.
"The day I found out I was pregnant," I answered her finally.
Automatically, my thoughts went back to that afternoon, relived my churning terror as I avoided going home. I couldn’t bear to walk down Main Street past Mom’s shop. It felt like she’d see me through the window and know exactly what was wrong.
I broke away from the rest of the kids to cut across the park toward Grandma’s. I needed someone to turn to who had an open mind.
The weeds reached nearly chest-height, ridiculously tall considering the town's responsibility to maintain the park. Forcing my way through the foliage gave me an outlet for my anxiety. Each stem I snapped brought a rush of satisfaction. Just in case, I drew up my hood and wound my hands in my sleeves. A bad case of poisoned oak was the last thing I needed.
The weeds were thicker than they appeared, and thorns scraped my skin through my jacket. My backpack got snagged. Twisting and swinging, I threw my weight forward. The vines holding me gave way, and I started to fall.
Before my knees even hit the dirt, a strong hand caught my elbow. A surge of energy shot up my arm. It moved through my bloodstream like liquid ice.
I gasped.
He was even taller than I remembered. Half-crouched to catch me, his antlers curved over me like a massive cage. Our eyes locked, and a wave of vertigo nearly made my legs buckle. I blinked. When I looked around, I was standing in the middle of a forest I’d never seen. Glowing eyes peered from between the trees. Here and there I glimpsed ghostly silver wolves the size of small ponies.
“I extended you a rare gift. Take car
e how you treat it.” His voice rumbled with disapproval. That drew my attention. I didn't know what I’d done to upset him, but I quickly tried to make amends. Quickly, I stood up and he released me..
“I never got the chance to thank you for saving me. You warned me it would be difficult, but without your help I'd be dead.”
The temperature plunged. White frost raced across the ground. His eyes stabbed into me with such intensity that I took a step back, ready to run. Where could I go? I wasn’t in Straifield anymore.
“You would be wise to learn the old ways. Your thanks is not required. By acknowledging you owe a debt to me I may now make a request of you in return. Tell no one who I am. Your kind will not believe you, and those that do are no friends to you.”
“But I don’t know who you are,” I pointed out. He blew gustily through his nose.
“You know what I am. I am the Holly King and the leader of the Wild Hunt. That is enough. There are those who would destroy you if they knew what I have done.”
“You mean you did this to me?” I recoiled in horror. For some reason the idea of him being responsible for my pregnancy horrified me more than the death threat from his world.
“I took nothing from you.” His ear twitched in a deer-like flick of impatience, as if the thought was too stupid for words. “I summoned the magic that saved you but could not direct the shape it chose to take. When I offered to grant you a request your spirit cried out seeking family, happiness, and love. It is up to you whether you will treasure this blessing or discard it as others have done to you.”
“Couldn’t you have just given me a puppy instead?” I complained. Even as I said it, my hands moved with a will of their own to cover my stomach. Still, my head swam with panic at the thought of what people would think. Not for a minute did I believe I could convince anyone that my pregnancy was the result of a bargain with the fae.
“Magic has a cost, and you will not be the only one called upon to pay it. I warned you. Death would have been easier.” That sent a chill through me. Hadn't I already been through enough? He took pity on me and decided to explain a little further.
"Your soul was nearly gone from your body. I summoned one from the world beyond to lead yours back where it belonged. Two souls cannot peacefully share one body for long. It is that soul you carry inside you now."
Naturally, I had a lot of questions, but apparently creating new life by magic was frowned upon in the Otherworld so he didn't have much experience to tell me what I should expect. He vanished just as quickly as he appeared. One moment I was staring into his eyes, and the next I stood blinking in the middle of the park so disoriented I sank onto the merry-go-round for a while before I trusted my legs to safely carry me home.
A sudden blast of icy air snapped me back to the present. Pay attention! I could practically hear the fierce whisper. It is not safe to linger here!
By the time the breeze blew itself out, Heather's hair hung in tangles and she scowled, trying to smooth it into place. Maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me, but it looked like she flung a dark glance behind her, exactly where I'd seen the ghostly canine fade.
"Well, it's certainly getting chilly out here, isn't it?” she said in an overly cheerful voice. “Do you want to step inside for a bit and warm up?" She flashed a rueful smile as the weather refused to play nice with her hair. I shook my head. It was only going to get colder and I still had several blocks to go.
"I don't want to walk there in the dark. See you later."
"Well, before you go I wanted to give you this." Heather caught my wrist and pressed something into my palm with a grim, tight-lipped smile. "Take care of yourself, Gwen."
I couldn't stop my shiver as a cold breeze slid inside my hood. Heather studied my face, disappointment and frustration clouding her eyes. She wanted to say something else—I could see it dancing on the tip of her tongue, but to my relief she thought better of it. Without another word, she turned on her heel and strode into the drug store. The bell tinkled cheerfully as the door swung shut behind her.
I looked down at what she'd given me and saw a little bundle of sticks tied together with twine. What in the world did she expect me to do with that? It wasn't particularly cute or pretty, but I tucked it into my coat pocket anyway.
III.
Standing at the top of the hill overlooking Main Street I took in the two-lane road lining both sides with shop windows. Strands of colored lights crisscrossed the air above the street, already glowing dimly even though the sun didn’t go down for another hour.
It was four-thirty and people were starting to get off work so there was more traffic than at any other time of the day. I ducked my head and started down the hill, careful to keep my eyes on the sidewalk square in front of me so I wouldn't meet anyone's eyes. People saw me coming. A bright, red, hooded jacket was hard to miss, especially when it strained to contain a belly the size of a basketball.
Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the darkened window of the abandoned hardware store. My old coat wasn't designed to be maternity wear. The zipper strained to seal in my stomach. Beneath that large bulge, my legs appeared freakishly skinny, too thin to support so much weight there in the middle. I looked like an ostrich with scarlet feathers instead of black and white. The dark glass made my face appear unattractively pale.
Heather's words echoed in my mind. What would I do if Eirawen took her looks from the faeries? True, the Holly King was the only one I'd ever seen. The stories from my childhood always described them as radiant and beautiful. He was striking, but I'd always expected them to resemble humans more than he did.
Wistfully, I distorted my reflection in my mind as I kept walking, reimagining my features into a stunning beauty with a complexion like moonlight, cascading black waves of hair, and a figure that could stop traffic. What would people say if my daughter lived up to that image, a girl of unparalleled beauty with a father no one could name? Nah. I reeled my expectations back in. Better I just hope she doesn't turn out to be some sort of female Minotaur.
At the corner of Main Street and Miles Way stood a small, wooden ice cream stand. It looked sad and lonely closed down for winter even though someone took the time to string it with red and silver tinsel so it looked like a gingerbread house. I don't know if the city or the shop owners wasted their energy on that.
I paused at one of the weather-beaten picnic tables to catch my breath. The walk was taking more out of me than I wanted to admit even to myself. Sinking onto the worn bench, I decided to see what Mom found that she thought I'd need.
I rustled through the plastic and pulled out a tiny, red, winter dress with a white belt tied around the middle. My fingers brushed across the stiff, lacy along the hem.
It used to be mine.
Unexpected tears stung the inner corners of my eyes.
"She’s going to love it," said a man’s voice. He was coming from the other side of the ice cream stand so we couldn’t see each other yet. I sniffled and quickly wiped at my cheeks just as a father with two young teenage boys came around the corner. He held a blue, velvet jewelry box and gazed admiringly at whatever lay nestled inside.
"It's your best work yet, Craig." He patted the shorter of the two boys, who was probably as tall as me even though he couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen.
"Yeah, because Mom doesn’t have enough roses?" said the older son dryly. Even with the thick flannel jacket he wore he was narrow and hunched over, like he spent a lot of his time looking over his shoulder. I knew that look. When you’ve been a target your whole life it’s easy to recognize the signs on someone else.
Judging from his father's lanky build, he wasn't going to fill out too much more, but his stocky younger brother, despite being a few inches shorter, definitely had plenty of room to grow.
“Keith. Craig. Settle down,” said their father with a grim patience that told me he didn’t expect them to listen anytime soon. He might as well have not spoken at all.
"You’re just jealous because all you can think to give her is the same lame flowers she just throws out after a week.” Craig grinned and reached for the jewelry box just as Keith gave him a hard nudge with his elbow. Craig tripped and knocked the box out of his father’s hand. It flew through the air to land on the sidewalk about three feet from the end of the table where I sat. A necklace bounced out of the case to land near my feet. The details on its rose pendant were so paper-thin and delicate it could easily have been a real flower dipped in silver.
A shocked silence fell over the boys. Quickly, I tried to appear inconspicuous.
"There, you see!" Keith sounded more than a little bit smug. "You probably broke it!" Eyes on his present, Craig rushed forward to get. He practically stood on my toes before he realized I was there. Noticing me a half-second later, Keith hurried over too.
“Sorry about him, he—” but whatever apology he was about to make died on his lips. The two of them froze like rabbits who just realized they were cornered by a fox. Keith’s eyes traveled up from my shoes and did a quick dance from my belly to my face and down to my belly again. The color drained out of his face so fast I’m surprised he didn’t pass out. He shot out an arm to drag his younger brother behind him.
I raised an eyebrow. That was a little extreme. I was carrying a baby, not the plague.
"Don't stare boys, it's rude," scolded their father with a sigh. I couldn't tell whether he meant not to stare at me specifically or at people in general, but either way he needed to take his own advice. When he saw me, his eyes did the same little jig that Keith’s did, but at the end he tacked on a thin, good-natured smile like that made up for it somehow.
"Uh, hi. Sorry about these two. I’ve got four more at home and every time they see an expecting mother they think I’ll try to talk theirs into having one more." Even though his eyes were on my face, his gaze never made it any higher than my nose. He seemed afraid of me. He was definitely babbling like he was nervous. Heat climbed to my face, but I arched a brow, scolding myself as much as him.