by Vanessa Skye
“Your hair is fuller and seems like it has less gray in it. And your eyes are more…green, somehow.” He has also lost the dark circles underneath them and the thick cloak of exhaustion that always surrounded him is gone. “Hey! Where are your glasses?”
“I have no need of them here.” He nods as he reties his hair and fully reveals his ears. “The mortal world is not kind to the fae. It is hard on our physical and emotional beings—like a marathon runner who trains by dragging a tire behind them. I am in my homeland and happy to be so in heart, body, and mind. You will also notice changes.”
I catch the samosa he throws with one hand.
“You see?” He grins. “We only have enough food left for today. But if we hurry, we should make it to a nearby forest fae settlement by this evening.”
“Where is that?” I finish breakfast, grab a handful of my hair and try tying it back, but fail…miserably. It’s a knotted, matted mess refusing any manner of taming without a gallon of cream rinse and a hairbrush, and I don’t have either.
“Between what you would call Lake Michigan and Lake Huron.”
“That must be over fifty miles away!”
“Then we better get moving unless you fancy on spending a hungry night under the stars. My hunting skills are rusty.”
We set out through the magnificent trees with Baird straining to see in every direction at once.
After a while, his shoulders drop, and the scowl on his face eases.
“I love these trees,” I say as we walk. I can’t help reaching out and touching the thick russet bark of each one we pass. “I wish they grew like this on Earth.” They are epic and permanent, as if I could curl up under one and it would protect me for eternity under its massive branches. Occasional beams of sunlight pierce the canopy like long swords, and I marvel at the beauty of the scene.
“They would if you humans were not so intent on cutting every last one of them down.”
“Oh.”
As we walk, I examine the strange environment crackling with life on Tír na nÓg. I can almost hear the trees straining to reach the sun’s rays. Multicolored leaves, displaying fall colors I’ve never seen before, including deep purples and pinks, seem to dance as they drift to the ground. Birds of every imaginable shade twitter and chirp as they fly and swoop around us, and small, seemingly unafraid, furry animals with vividly colored fur dart between our feet as they snatch any crumbs we drop as we eat. Even the usual green and blues seem brighter and more vibrant. There isn’t a single man-made structure visible in any direction. Earth, my Earth, seems dull and muted now that I’ve seen Tír na nÓg.
“Is it hard being on Earth? I mean, watching what we do to it.”
He shrugs. “It was at first. But given it is meant to be a punishment for our kind, it makes a kind of strange sense.”
“A punishment?”
“Of a fashion. What do you remember about your Tuatha De Danann mythology?”
I try to recall the details of the legend just as the trees clear and the glistening expanse of Lake Michigan comes into view, and my breath catches. It is beautiful—pristine, bright, and calm—without all the manufactured alterations of my world. The fake beaches are gone, and the water laps gently at the reeds and grass on the bank. “What is Lake Michigan called here?”
“Uisce Móra. Your mythology?” he asks again, nudging my focus back to our original conversation.
“Um…just that King Nuadha led the Tuatha De Danann to Ireland from the heavens where they all lived in peace until another race started a war. Nuadha’s arm was severed in battle, and because he wasn’t perfect, he couldn’t be king any more. But then a magical healer made him an arm out of silver, and he became king again.” I shrug. “That’s all I remember from the stories Mom used to tell me.”
“That is mostly correct.” He nods. “She was protecting you from the truth.”
“Which is?”
“Which is…the Tuatha De Danann came to this world about four millennia ago, and while it is true we lived in peace, the threat of war was constant between the fae clans, being we are quite warlike as a race, in general.”
We walk around the south end of the lake, keeping it within sight as he talks.
“When the Fomoiri came to this world, it was with the sole purpose of displacing the fae as rulers. They were selfish, had limited magic, and wanted Tír na nÓg for themselves. They were dragon lords, and their creatures laid waste to this land. The war raged on for years, with the fae and Fomoiri interbreeding as races tend to do. The new leader of the enemy, a half-fae, half-Fomoir named Bres, is the one who severed Nuadha’s arm. During the time Nuadha was considered imperfect, and could no longer be our king, Bres seized the throne.” Baird stares into the distance then shakes his head. “Bres was evil and greedy. He lined his own pockets, used his dragons and his magic to instill fear across Tír na nÓg, and enslaved the fae.
“Nuadha sought an ancient healer, who used forbidden magic to heal him, but that magic made him whole again. He seized control from Bres and, with the help of the goddess Danu, drove the Fomoiri from Tír na nÓg by banishing them to a parallel earth where they bred with an existing race called the Milesians, eventually known as the human race. Nuadha was considered a hero for saving the fae from persecution. He is still.”
“So…wait. There are more earths?”
“There could be an infinite number for all we know, each with their own races and issues. We do not know how many peoples can travel between them.”
“That’s crazy!”
Baird shrugs. “Only because you have not grown up with the knowledge. To the fae, this is as it has always been.”
“So then what happened?”
“To protect Tír na nÓg and the fae, all half-breed Fomoiri were banished from Tír na nÓg and sent to live out a mortal existence without magic on your human earth. King Nuadha is determined the fae will never be enslaved again, and his army is second to none. With the military power behind him, he has ruled Tír na nÓg for three thousand years without any war beyond a few local skirmishes, which were quickly quashed. But he is always on guard for the Returned, even though legend has it that they died out centuries ago.
“Now, those who were banished to Earth have been breeding for so long with mortal races that barely any fae blood remains. They could not come through the veil even if they knew about it and wanted to.”
“But who wouldn’t want immortality? Anyone who knows it’s possible would be trying to get through the veil.”
“Exactly. Full fae may move freely between the worlds—hence the need for the Gallagher—but few do. They do not wish to mingle with the children of the banished either. Fae travel has, of course, resulted in half-human, half-fae being born on Earth, but few of them know about this world or how to get here. Nuadha fears any talk of the ancient Returned, so has any half fae who show up on Tír na nÓg put to death. Of course, any banished Fomoiri died thousands of years ago now, so tales of the Returned are merely fables used to scare faelings.”
I stop walking and stare, wide-eyed, at Baird’s back. “But…I’m half-human. Nuadha will kill me.”
Baird turns and looks at me. “There is always that possibility, of course. But we have gone thousands of years without strife, and I think he will be far more interested in what you can do in the human world and the fae who followed you there—and what that means for Tír na nÓg—than in killing you.”
I stamp my foot. “That’s not comforting. This is why Mom didn’t want me coming here. You should have listened!”
He bows his head. “It was one of many reasons, yes. But even she saw we had no choice in the end. You cannot be effectively protected on Earth any longer. I need my magic, and you need a powerful protector.”
He starts walking again, and I follow, my brain attempting to process everything.
The scenery passes, but I’m consumed by my thoughts and see little of it. I was born here, in this world, and yet it would seem I am about as wel
come as I was on the human one. My ears, my magic—all of it is just as unacceptable here, too, even if it for different reasons. Will I ever fit in anywhere?
The obvious answer is depressing.
Now and then, Baird stops our trek and orders me to do something, like light a fire, or create a wave on the lake, or summon a breeze. By the end of the first few hours, I am doing the small tasks easily.
“Why don’t my hands bleed when I do magic anymore?” I ask as I flick my hand, and with a loud crack, a huge branch snaps off a tree.
“Your skin split to keep your magic contained. Once you let some out, the stress eased, like releasing the valve on a steam pipe.”
“Oh. I guess that makes sense.” I’m sure I should be tired after hours of magic practice, but I’m not. If anything, I’m full of energy, for the first time in my life, and more curious about this place than ever. “Tell me about the fae.”
“What would you like to know?”
“Everything, I guess, seeing as I’m here now.”
Baird continues down the paths for several yards, and just when I think he’s going to ignore my question altogether, he surprises me.
“While many faelings have been born since the war, there are a few old ones left who remember the days of slavery quite well. The main thing you must always remember is fae will die before they are yoked by anyone again. They have no fear of death, but the thought of losing their freedom again is terrifying. Fae are taught to fight at a young age and must serve in Nuadha’s army at some point in their lives for a minimum of one century—”
“A century!” I stop altogether as my squeak keeps moving as an echo through the trees.
“It is a tear in the ocean in the lifespan of an immortal.”
“I guess…”
“Fae are armed at all times, and King Nuadha is our leader because he is widely acknowledged as the best cogadh—war fae—on our world. Should that ever change, he could be overthrown, so he has a stake in keeping things as they are. But he is a fair ruler, generally speaking, and for the most part, the fae are content here.”
“You’ve mentioned four different types of fae now. Is that all there is?”
He pulls some of our food out of his pack and splits it with me.
I realize, with a sinking heart, we aren’t taking any breaks for lunch. Already shaky from last night, my legs are squawking for relief they are clearly not going to get.
“There are eight kinds of fae—cré, or earth fae, cogadh are war fae, gaoithe, wind fae, uisce, water fae. There are foraoise—forest fae, ceol, which are music fae, ainmhithe, animal fae, and…tine fae. Those are the fire fae. Although, the latter has all but been wiped out.”
“Why?”
“Because they can manipulate fire, which makes them the biggest threat on Tír na nÓg …well, you have seen what you can do. But each power can be quite deadly in its own right and has a positive and negative application. Earth fae are excellent farmers but can also manipulate the ground, cause earthquakes, or even disappear within it. War fae are excellent in battle but kill without conscience. Wind fae fly with wings only they can grow, but they also manipulate the air, causing tornados and hurricanes if they choose. Water fae breathe underwater but also control whole bodies of water and create vast, inundating waves. Forest fae speak to the trees, causing them to do their bidding, but also influence the minds and actions of others with little effort. Music fae are all about beauty and fun. They are in demand in all communities for their magnetism and charm, but they are incredibly vain and manipulative, and their fickle ways bring about terrible heartbreak for anyone foolish enough to fall for them. Then, there are animal fae. They not only speak to beasts but can also cause the beast to turn on others.”
“So each fae can only do the one thing?”
“Yes and no. All fae can perform basic tricks, like lighting a campfire, removing obstacles from their path, or manipulating the minds of the weak, that kind of thing, but their true power lies in their specialization.”
“And I am a fire fae?”
He pauses a full beat before lengthening his stride once more. “I am glad you brought that up. For the time being, we are going to say you are a war fae. Your fight with the boy indicates a talent in the area, as does the shielding—”
“But what about the fire?” I whisper. I feel sick.
“It would be best if you did not mention the fire, for now. It understandably scares the others as it is the most dangerous offensive power we possess, which is why there are few fire users left. I would like to think we have grown away from killing that which we fear, but this cannot always be guaranteed. So, do not mention it…just for now.”
“So, why can I use fire and also do war stuff? Shouldn’t I only be able to do one?”
The only sounds are our feet crunching with each step as I watch Baird’s face closely.
He eventually sighs. “I am not sure. The full extent of your power is unclear. Not only because you have a skill in more than one talent, but also because you managed such powerful magic on Earth at all.”
I am doomed to stick out no matter where I go. I roll my eyes and push some stray hair off my face. “Where are we headed?”
“To a foraoise community. They will provide us with shelter for the night and provisions for our journey.”
“They will?”
He nods. “It is the fae way. I hope you don’t have a problem with heights.”
“Um, I don’t think so. Why?”
“Foraoise live in the trees, quite literally, several hundred feet off the ground.”
“Oh. Don’t all fae live in trees?”
“No. Earth fae typically live in the ground. Water fae reside in water, and the others live where they wish. Most communities stick to people of the same talents, but there is some intermarriage, so you are likely to see other types of fae in the trees tonight. Try not to stare too much.”
“Given we can’t talk about coming from Earth, where should we say we’re from?”
“We are father and daughter traveling from the south to seek an audience with the king, and we were robbed. That’s all they need to know.”
I’ve never had a father. A cold, lonely part of my heart melts, just a little bit. “But…do fae wear what we are wearing?”
“No. However, the communities in the south are insular and considered strange, so we can explain it away. We will get more appropriate clothes there.”
I gnaw at the inside of my cheek as we walk.
“Stop worrying. It will be fine,” he says, without looking back.
We stick close to the lake, grabbing a drink from it now and then, which is a marvel to me since it wouldn’t be possible to take drink from just any natural waterway back home.
Unlike me, drenched in sweat and fading with every step, Baird seems to brighten, and before the afternoon sun sets, his eyes are a light jade green, and his hair is dark and thick.
“You look…twenty…years…younger,” I comment between gasps.
“That is just as well. Old age is not something that can be easily explained here. It is a dead giveaway a fae has been spending much time with humans.”
I fervently hope the forest I can see in the distance is the one we’re trying to reach. Much like the previous night, the forest slowly grows larger, with trees rivaling the tallest skyscraper on earth as if they aim to reach the heavens, but we never seem to actually get there.
“You also look better,” Baird says as he hands me the last of our food.
I shove it in my mouth, hesitating just long enough to register what it is. “I do?” I mumble around my full cheeks.
“You look less tired. There is color in your face, and your eyes also are a deeper emerald green. It is possible you have grown, too.”
“Oh, great. That’s just what I need…”
He chuckles. “Your height will not set you apart in this world, child. But…you should also be prepared for fae reactions to your…appearance,” he hedge
s.
I snort. “I’m the Jolly Red Giant, remember? I am used to being ugly, so don’t—”
“You are not ugly!” He spins, facing me. The scowl on his face leaves no room for my self-deprecating brand of humor. “In fact, in fae terms, you are quite…beautiful.”
I almost trip and fall in the tall soft grass. “Are you kidding?” I pat at my matted mass of hair filled with leaves and twigs.
“No.” He smirks. “Just be aware your looks will garner attention, especially from male fae, who are none too subtle in their affection. They are…ardent. Tell them no and be firm about it. As your father, I will be able to keep them from you so long as you stay close.”
The sun is setting by the time we finally make it to the tree line.
A part of me relaxes as we step into the cool, misty forest with its leaves rustling as though they’re whispering a soft greeting.
“Be wary, and make no sudden movements,” Baird mutters as we make our way further into the deep wood with no sound but our steps landing in the thick green moss and leaf bed as we walk.
Once again, the trees are so dense I have no idea if the moon has even risen, or if the approaching night sky is as dark as it will get.
A prickling starts at the back of my neck, and I swat at it.
“You sense we are being watched,” Baird whispers.
I search the area carefully but see nothing but a thin white mist and darkening trees. Wait! Is that…
As we get closer, what looked like a lightening bug becomes an ornate flickering lantern held by a tall graceful woman wearing brown pants and a long green shirt that falls at the tops of her knees. Around her waist is a belt, looped and knotted together in what looks like brown and green vines, holding a metal scabbard at her side.
“Keep your hands where they can be easily seen,” Baird whispers.
“Why? She hasn’t even drawn her sword.”
“It is not for her, but for the no fewer than eight fae hidden in the shadows. Each of which has an arrow aimed at our hearts, straining to be released.”
“Jesus.”
Baird snorts softly. “He doesn’t live here. And thank Danu for it. The fae hardly need anything else to fight about.”