“No, I mean . . .”
“I know what you mean,” said Yashar, “and I don’t know. I’m not sure death would be the worst thing that could happen to you. People shun you, the fairies are scared to death of you, and even the fucking angels can’t stand you anymore. The worst thing that could happen to you now is to be cursed with my life—a long one, filled with monstrous deeds that go wrong no matter how well intentioned.”
“The sum of a man isn’t the things he’s done, it is the world he leaves behind.”
“What?”
“It’s something Bertrand said. One day, no matter what, you and I will both be dust and dreamstuff, and the total of our lives won’t be the things we did to survive, but the things we did to change the world.
“You’ve spent a millennium tethered to the dreams of children and watched as those dreams grew up to face reality. In your cowardly way of playing it safe, you never offered anyone a wish that could truly change the world, and thus you’ve always had to sit by and watch as that unchanged world weighed down upon your dreamers, crushing them. While it’s true that children rarely want anything messy, they also never want anything but that which they want for themselves. It’s no wonder you hate the world you live in; you’ve spent the entirety of your existence feeding its most childish urges.” Colby looked Yashar in the eye. “Maybe it’s time you wished a little bigger.”
“What are you saying?” asked Yashar.
“If we’re going to be monsters, let us be monsters of purpose. Let’s do something. Something real.”
Yashar shrugged. “Like your thing with the Tithe?”
“Exactly like that. If these things are going to fear me, let’s make it count.”
The two looked out into the field, tall grass waving in the wind. Two young figures emerged from the dark.
Yashar looked at Colby.
“I know they’re not real,” said Colby.
“Come back, Colby,” shouted one of the figures, waving an arm in the air. “Come play with us!”
“Yeah, Colby,” said the other. “Come and play!”
“That doesn’t change anything, though, does it?” asked Yashar. “You still want to go.”
“I’m not that kid anymore.”
“But you’re happy to see them.”
“It’s not really them.”
Yashar looked at him incredulously. “What are you talking about? That is them.”
“No, it’s a reflection.”
“A reflection of their energy. Energy you sent out into the wild. They just wanted to find each other and they did. You did that. This just happened to be the place their energy ran to. Don’t discount that.”
Colby nodded, lost in the moment. “No one chooses where or when they’ll find perfection, but I want to believe everyone finds it at least once. I guess this was theirs.”
“Where’s yours?” asked Yashar.
“I’ll know it when I find it.”
“That sounds oddly hopeful.”
“I’ve gotta believe in something. This is as good a thing as any, I suppose.” Colby reached into a battered backpack, pulling from it a worn-out, faded, sweat-stained old bear. He smiled, gently placing Mr. Bearston on the ground atop Ewan’s grave. Then he raised an arm to the two figures in the field and waved.
“Bye, Colby!” the two shouted.
One figure leaned in to kiss the other on the cheek, running off into the tall grass to play. The remaining figure smiled at Colby and then followed the other, vanishing into the field.
Colby looked at Yashar, nodding. “You know your job’s not done yet, right?”
“Which one?”
“My wish,” said Colby. “I haven’t seen everything yet.”
“No, you really haven’t.”
Colby whistled. “Come on, Gossamer. Let’s go home.”
EPILOGUE
Once upon a time there were three young fairies, a Green Man, a Lutin, and a Sidhe. One day they found themselves playing in the woods. The young Green Man ran ahead and came to a tree line at the edge of the forest. The Lutin and Sidhe ran swiftly behind him, yelling for him to stop.
“Don’t step out of the woods!” yelled the Lutin.
“Why not?” asked the Green Man, about to set foot beyond the trees.
“Because past those trees is Austin,” said the Sidhe.
“What’s Austin?” asked the Green Man.
“Austin is where the Colbyman lives,” said the Sidhe.
“Yeah,” agreed the Lutin.
“What’s a Colbyman?” asked the Green Man.
The Lutin and the Sidhe looked at each other and laughed. “You don’t know what the Colbyman is?”
The Green Man shook his head. “No.”
“He’s the taker of fairy children,” said the Lutin.
The Sidhe nodded. “He sneaks into your camp at night and steals fairy children out of their cradles, two at a time. Always two at a time. And any fairy who steps outside of the Limestone Kingdom and into Austin gets turned into flowers.”
“Flowers?” asked the Green Man. “That’s stupid.”
“No, it’s true,” said the Lutin. “He points at you and turns you to flowers. And you never turn back. My mom saw it with her own eyes.”
The Green Man didn’t believe a word of it. “There’s no monster called the Colbyman and there’s no such place as Austin.”
“There is!” said both the Sidhe and Lutin at once.
“Come on,” said the Sidhe. “Let’s go back to camp.”
“Are you scared?” asked the Green Man.
“No,” said the Sidhe, lying.
“I think you’re scared,” said the Green Man.
“Uh-uh!” shouted the Sidhe.
The Green Man put both hands on his hips and smiled. “Then I dare you to cross the tree line.”
“Let’s just go back home,” said the Lutin.
“No,” said the Green Man. “I dare you to go into Austin.”
“Well, I double-dare you to go into Austin,” said the Sidhe.
The Green Man stopped smiling.
“You have to accept a double dare,” said the Sidhe. “Or else.”
The Green Man swallowed hard. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll go. I don’t believe he exists.” The Green Man turned back around and took two steps toward the tree line, standing right on the edge. He hovered a foot over the other side. And just as he was about to put his foot down, something grabbed his arm.
The Green Man jumped, startled. He screamed.
When he looked back, he saw Coyote holding his arm.
“Don’t make fun of me, Coyote!” the Green Man demanded. “I’m about to go to Austin.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said Coyote.
“You believe in him too?” asked the Green Man.
Coyote nodded. “Believe in him? I’ve seen him.”
“I told you!” said the Lutin.
“You three run along now. You shouldn’t be playing this close to Austin.”
“Yes, Coyote,” said the children in unison. Then they all ran off back to camp, none of them admitting how scared they really were.
Coyote turned, looking out over the outskirts of the city. Then he looked back at the scared children. And he laughed and he laughed and he laughed, enjoying the best joke that the great trickster had ever played.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
C. ROBERT CARGILL has written for Ain’t It Cool News for more than a decade under the pseudonym Massawyrm, served as a staff writer for Film.com and Hollywood.com, and appeared as the animated character Carlyle on spill.com. He is the screenwriter of the film Sinister. He lives and works in Austin, Texas.
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CREDITS
Cover design by Adam Johnson
Cover photographs: sky © by Philippe Sainte-Laudy Photography/Getty Images; cityscape © by Yurkaimmortal/Shutterstock Images
Images courtesy of Shutterstock © 2012
COPYRIGHT
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DREAMS AND SHADOWS. Copyright © 2013 by C. Robert Cargill. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been applied for.
ISBN 978-0-06-219042-0
Epub Edition © March 2013 ISBN: 9780062190444
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
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Dreams and Shadows Page 38