A laugh rang out. My eyes followed the flashlight to every section of the chamber. I was still alone. My heart sped up, and the nerves throughout my body sent rapid little tweaks to my brain.
The carving was little more than a fingertip deep, and just as intricate as the one Aunt May showed me in the gazebo. There was an opening in the center shaped like the stone in my hand. A tingling sensation shot down my spine when I pressed the stone into the hole. It fit perfectly.
The stone changed, becoming clearer, almost translucent, and emitted a faint light. With a flick of my thumb, the flashlight went dark. Stunning! It glowed, growing increasingly brighter as I watched. Skepticism, disbelief, shock—they each took a turn with me, but my inner voice countered. This is really happening, isn’t it?
“Okay, what now?” I said softly.
“Remain patient,” the voice replied.
Fear gripped me again and I twisted my head, focusing on every shadow—I started to freak out. There was someone else, a man, in here with me. He was hidden in the shadows, but apparently was close enough to hear me. The fear I felt the moment I realized I was trapped in the hole returned with a vengeance, and triggered my flight instinct. The rational part of my brain told me to sprint to the stairs and keep running all the way to the rope ladder, but whoever was in here stood between me and the way out. Has he watched me the entire time? A chill rattled through my body when I pictured Chalen’s milky blue eyes in my mind.
“Do not fear me—you will not be harmed,” the voice reassured me.
Oh great, he knows I’m scared. “May I have your name?” My voice sounded sheepish.
“I am Devin,” the voice replied. “A friend.”
“I’m Maggie.” I was trembling.
With a soft chuckle, it said, “Oh, I know who you are, Maggie O’Shea. I have been expecting your visit, though I did not expect it to go so well.”
My fear did what it always had—it turned to anger. “Well?” I asked with a shrill edge in my voice. “I could have died in that hole!”
“I think you know, Miss O’Shea, that you were in no real danger.”
Somehow I knew he was right. Though still afraid and angry, my curiosity took over. He’s Fae isn’t he? Aunt May was right—this is all real. I conjured up the courage to ask, “Did I cause the floor to move, or did you do that?”
The voice returned, “A little of both, truth be known, and the same with the stairs. Lovely second request—even Lola was not that creative.”
His answer caused my mind to race as I wondered whether I truly controlled the stones. Did he mean Lola, my great, great, great aunt? Aunt May had told me about her, though I barely listened. She built the cottage and was the Steward before Aunt May. Had she been through this too? Of the many questions forming in my mind, I ended up asking the most pressing, “Where are you? I’d like to know who I’m talking to.”
“My face is right here, Maggie. Just look into the light.”
Though still doubtful, I turned and focused on the glowing light. Nothing happened initially, but as I concentrated a little harder a face and shoulders materialized. It seemed to hover above what appeared to be the rest of a body. It faded toward the edges where the light dissipated. The form wasn’t solid—I could see the wall of the cave through it. It did seem non-threatening, though. Devin’s small, round face looked about the same size as Mitch’s. His large, kind eyes and bulbous nose looked comically dwarfish. Below them, a thick, bushy mustache and long beard nearly hid his big, goofy mouth.
“Okay, you look remarkably like one of Snow White’s dwarfs—that’s not what you really look like, is it?”
“No. I can take any form you wish. With Fae-kind, sometimes you see what you expect to see. Human thoughts project the images they picture, Maggie. I picked this particular form from a number of images that have recently crossed your mind. I thought it would be the least frightening.”
I’d totally forgotten about picturing the dwarfs, but it was true—I had. I used them to calm myself as I crawled through the tunnel.
He let out a throaty, coarse laugh before saying, “I could have picked Indiana Jones, I suppose. You were thinking about him as well, but I feared that Harrison Ford might be too disturbing.”
Uncomfortable and uneasy, I realized he saw everything I had imagined. “Great! You can read my mind, and apparently you’re familiar with action films.”
“No, not exactly,” Devin replied. “You project images and emotions—I see and feel those. Sometimes the images are clear, as well as the emotions attached to them, but I cannot read your thoughts.”
“Devin, how did I move the stones?”
His translucent face beaming, he explained that I didn’t move the stones. Rather, with his help, I altered their shape. Eventually I would learn to do it on my own, he told me.
“You said Fae-kind. So everything Aunt May said is true?” Despite standing next to one, I still could not wrap my head around the idea that the Fae were real. How could the world not know? How can this really be happening? What do they want?
“Yes, I suppose. I, of course, was not privy to what she told you, but she has been the Steward of the Weald for some time and it is rather doubtful she would lead you astray. For one hundred eighty-four years, members of your family have been Stewards. Your family and my kind have been partners all those years, keeping to ourselves and protecting this mountain.”
“The magic cave?” I joked.
Though his laugh sounded like rubbing logs, his speaking voice had a melodic quality that reminded me of large wind chimes. “No, Maggie, there is no magic here, at least not in the mystical sense that humans use the term. This cave is no different than any other, except in size and shape. The stone here may be slightly different than in other places, but it is stone. Every particle of rock and soil, down to the smallest fleck of dust, is comprised of exactly the same thing. Every tree that grows and every animal that walks is made up of the same material. Different people have different names for it—we call it Naeshura. The Osage call it Wakondah, and human science generally refers to it as energy. Though they are getting closer to the true nature of Naeshura, human physicists are not quite there yet.”
“Sure, energy, the basis of matter—that’s fifth grade science.”
“Yes, so it is now, but it was not so long ago that your kind believed the world to be flat. A confounding notion, is it not? I will try to explain this in terms you will understand. Energy is attracted to itself, more so depending on what form it happens to be in … how it is arranged. Quarks, Higgs boson particles—interesting naming convention. So … human. The Fae have understood energy, rather intuitively, for thousands of millennia. We do not naturally exist as you do, in a physical form. We are Naeshura—energy—except sentient. We learned long ago that we could manipulate and change our form, and soon afterward we learned to manipulate and change the forms of other things.”
Devin told me that he could alter things like stone with his mind, and for the Fae it required no more effort than it took me to pick up a stone with my hand. Humans, he explained, manipulate matter on a physical level because we have physical form—it’s natural. The Fae manipulate matter the same way except at a more basic level because they naturally exist as pure energy. For the Fae, changing the shape and size of virtually any object, even transforming one substance into another, is quite simple. He said that some people have the ability to manipulate matter in the same way, and that being Earth inclined means that I am one of them.
“So, can Aunt May do this stuff, too?” I asked, sounding a little too much like a bewildered preschooler.
“Not exactly. Your loquacious great aunt is not inclined to the Earth element. She did not pass the Earth trial—she lacked the requisite control of her emotions, and therefore, her body, to … commune with the Earth element. To manipulate Earth, and to conform it to one’s intent, requires extraordinary control and focus. That comes from within.”
“I guess that mean
s I have the requisite control?”
“Yes.” He nodded his translucent head. “You do not have enough control to manipulate the Earth element without Fae assistance, yet, but you demonstrated uncanny control, the likes of which I have seen only two times among your ancestors. Pete O’Shea, your forefather, and Lola, your great, great, great aunt—each Stewards of the Weald Fae—were both inclined to the Earth element.”
“Aunt May never told me any of this,” I said.
“No, and I shall thank her for that. You were not ready—you did not believe after all. That aside, it is not her place to instruct you. It is ours.”
Usually, he explained, there was one Steward from each generation, and Stewards were always inclined to at least one element—Earth, Air, Fire or Water. “Controlling the elements is occasionally necessary in order to protect and preserve the Weald Fae, but more than anything, it is a fringe benefit of working closely with us.” He told me that Aunt May was inclined to Air, as were most of my ancestors. “I suppose being inclined to an element is not completely necessary to serve as Steward. We simply prefer working with humans who are. They seem to understand us better—they are more likely to share our reverence for the physical world.”
“What is the Weald Fae?” I asked.
“Weald is the Fae word for woods or forest. The Fae gave the name to this area when they came here more than a thousand millennia ago. It simply means Woods of the Fae.
“Aunt May told me that. I meant to ask why it’s important.”
“That will take much longer to explain,” he said. “For now, just understand that your questions will be answered as your training commences, and then you will learn the nuances of why the Weald is so important to my kind. Until that time, please, just be patient.”
“Has anyone been inclined to more than one element?”
He paused for a moment, and a smile formed on his face as he studied me.
“Yes, two of your ancestors were inclined to dual elements. An aunt, Constance, was inclined to Air and Fire, and Pete O’Shea, who I mentioned a moment ago, was inclined to Water as well as Earth, but Lola, now, she was inclined to Water, Air, and Earth. She was quite special. During her trials, there was speculation among us that she might be a Maebown, a human inclined to all four elementals and thus able to control the fifth element, Aether. There have been very few Maebowns, and they were not Stewards here. Only two people throughout history have been Maebowns, in fact.”
“A Maebown?”
“It is the Fae word for balance,” he said. “Perhaps you will be the first Maebown Steward of the Weald.”
I noted a hint of sarcasm.
“Are there many of you?” I asked.
“Tens of thousands in the world. You have encountered others already, but you simply have not recognized them as Fae.”
Her lithe movements and elegant features flashed in my mind. “Sara!” I replied immediately.
He nodded, as a smile spread across his cartoonish features. “Yes, she is Fae, and your aunt’s guide, though we call it Treoraí.”
“Guide?”
“You cannot possibly think we would expect you, or your ancestors, to act as Steward without a Fae guide, can you?”
“No, that wouldn’t make much sense.” Honestly, I had no idea what would make sense at that point.
His face changed, becoming more solid and less cartoonish. “You do not fully understand or appreciate the Weald Fae yet. And that is not your fault, as you only just arrived. After you experience all four seasons, you will understand the Weald and that it is a gift in and of itself.”
Like the sound of harp strings being plucked, I heard a laugh from behind me. As I turned, I saw her standing at the entrance.
“Good morning, Sara,” Devin said.
“Good morning. I see our young Maggie has completed the Earth trial.” Sara turned to me. “Most impressive. May will be delighted to know she has such a worthy successor. I imagine your mind is filled with a sundry of questions?”
“Yes, ma’am. I have several, but I’m not sure where to start.”
Sara smiled at Devin. “I think she is ready to see now.”
Devin nodded, and turned his pleasant, glowing face toward me.
“See what?” I asked after looking at both of them.
“This!” Sara said.
In an instant she turned into a glowing orb, about a foot in diameter and so bright the entire room lit up for a moment. The brightness dissipated, but the colors became more vibrant. It looked like a spotlight shining through a kaleidoscope filled with every imaginable color. The beauty of it overwhelmed me. I had never seen anything so spectacular. Devin, too, changed into an orb equally as beautiful. I noted a difference, though: while Devin emitted what looked like every color possible, he was more green and orange, while Sara was more blue and lavender than anything else.
All around me, the walls of the cave changed. In just moments, everything radiated light. Even my body, my watch and my clothes emitted a faint light. Nothing appeared solid or fixed. Everything had an almost malleable quality—one layer shimmering below another, but all connected.
“This is your realm?”
“Yes and no,” Sara’s voice rang through my ears. “This is not our realm, as you call it, but this is as close to our natural existence as you can currently get. In the past, we taught humans to travel into our world, but the technique has largely been forgotten.”
“Will I learn to do this on my own—to visit your world?”
“That we do not know.”
“Devin is correct, Maggie. The journey is before you but it contains many different paths, options if you will, that lead to different destinations. The direction you take and the places you visit are largely up to you. You may learn to visit us.”
“So, is this your natural form?”
“You are seeing a facsimile of our natural form—a projection designed for your senses so that you can understand how we experience the world in our natural state,” Devin said.
“It’s simply stunning.” I felt a bit awkward, honestly. Visually it captivated me, but I didn’t have the words to describe it. An awkward silence slipped over me, because I feared that anything I said would sound idiotic. For a moment I considered just how wrong Hollywood had it, and wondered if its portrayal of fairies was insulting. “Does it bother you … well … you know … Tinkerbell?” I asked.
Sara answered, “Tinkerbell is as much our fault as anyone’s, I’m afraid.”
“Your fault?” It caught me off guard and I laughed.
Sara transformed in front of me. What had been an orb, just moments before, quickly took the form of a body—a small body no bigger than a doll. Sara, her face unmistakable, changed into the classic image of a fairy that I’d always attributed to Peter Pan. She had tiny gossamer wings on her back just like I knew there should be.
“This is what Devin said—you’re getting the image from my thoughts.”
“Yes.” Her voice seemed too big for the sylph body. “This is now what most people associate with our kind—tiny mythical beings with wings and an ornery streak.”
Sara smiled. “The Fae existed long before people. The first exchanges between Fae and humans were awkward because ancient people were exceptionally superstitious. Humankind simply didn’t understand that sentient beings could exist purely as energy—when they sensed us, they grew suspicious and frightened. …Maggie, has May told you about the Seelie and the Unseelie?”
“A little, yes,” I replied. “She said that there are two clans of Fae that are often at odds with one another but, like everything else, she was vague.”
“There are more than two clans, but I’ll save that for another time. All Fae that take physical form do it for one reason—to experience the sensations of the physical world,” Sara said. “Some Fae, many of those who eventually affiliated with the Unseelie, enjoy eliciting the emotion of fear. It’s an experience they cannot get in our natural form. Those Fae searc
h the images buried in human minds to find the most terrifying things imaginable. The more fear generated, the more pleasurable the experience. Many of the darkest human nightmares are the product of my kind.”
She went on to explain that some Fae, while not particularly fond of early humans, found intentional torment very distasteful. Instead, they tried a number of forms to make interaction easier. “Initially, we took human form. We projected ourselves with limbs and faces—something familiar. People knew we weren’t human and were afraid of us, so we experimented with smaller and smaller forms to be less threatening.”
“What about the wings? You don’t have any in your natural form,” I asked.
“In our natural form, we move from one place to another by thinking … go there. It really is quite simple. It takes no more energy or concentration for us to float, for lack of a better word, across a field or room than it does a human to get up and walk the distance. But as we are not corporeal in our natural form, our movements are not limited by gravity like a human’s are. Even in physical form, locomotion took more concentration. We could still will ourselves from place to place without walking, but that created problems as well. Floating people, even little floating people, terrified humans—they couldn’t comprehend it. To ancient humans, if one flew, one needed wings. We read the images in people’s minds, and adapted.”
Devin coughed a bit, and Sara smiled without looking at him. She explained that not all Fae, or even a majority, adopted a winged form. I glanced over at Devin who appeared as a man, but only about the size of a chubby toddler.
“The form preferences of the four different Fae alignments tend to revolve around the element to which each is predominately aligned. It is true that all Fae could appear with wings if we wanted to, but most do not. Humans typically refer to our winged forms as the sylph, or faery. Devin is Earth aligned. He, and his kind, adopted a number of different forms.”
Devin smiled. “Thank you, Sara. Always the diplomat. We prefer to stay connected to our element, so we walk about when in physical form. I never saw the need for wings,” he said curtly.
Weald Fae 01 - The Steward Page 6