Faerie Blood

by Angela Korra'ti

  He halted the spin then, breathing in deep, his expression intensifying as he looked back down at me. “That’s true, lass,” he said, softer now, huskier. Something flickered across his face—something that I identified, with a thrill of restless eagerness, as attraction. In the flashlight’s wan light it turned his eyes a vivid green, and suddenly the electric current of magic had to compete with his stare and the pressure of his arms around me for my attention. “That’s very true.”

  I could easily have stood there in his embrace for another few years, but more and more raindrops slid down through the willow fronds to strike us. “We should go in,” I murmured. “We shouldn’t leave Jude alone.”

  Christopher seemed as reluctant as I was to break his new-forged connection with the earth that had tasted his blood. He nodded but did not move, and only with an effort tore his gaze away from me to look toward my back door. “We should Ward the house,” he said, his own thought kindling a surge of wonder in him. “I can Ward the house.”

  “Can I help?” The excitement shining in his face was so infectious that I couldn’t resist making the offer.

  He grinned broadly, seizing my hands in his. Power hummed through our joined palms, warm and rich, while faint glimmers of green-golden light played along our fingers. “I think you can,” he breathed. Then he tugged me out from beneath the tree. I balked long enough to snatch the flashlight off the ground, but then willingly followed him. “Come on!”

  The lateness of the hour and the unpleasant weather were good things. They meant that most, if not all, of the neighbors would be asleep, so no one would see us making a circuit of the house in the drizzling rain, peering at all the doors and windows—I hoped. I avoided thinking of how the people at Mama’s had failed to notice me standing among them on the sidewalk, and resolved to tell anybody who asked later that Christopher and I were looking for termites.

  “Carson and Jake’s half, too,” I insisted, pointing out their half of the house. “Does it work if it’s a house split in half?”

  “They’re your friends that took me to the hospital?”

  “My housemates.” Pleased that he remembered, I nodded towards their front door and confided, “I’m worried about them. They’re off dealing with Jake’s family stuff right now—but this is their house as much as it is mine. We’ve got to make sure they’ll be safe when they get back!” My cheer ebbed as that thought sent a ripple of nervousness through me, and I hoped the boys were indeed safe, handling whatever challenges they faced with Jake’s family. The alternative was unthinkable.

  Christopher squeezed my hands and promised, “We’ll take care of it, lass, don’t fret. You’re close to ’em; that’ll help with the Wardin’.” He shook himself a little, like a runner limbering up for a fifty-yard sprint, and said then, “I felt what you did back at the restaurant and in the truck. What was it?”

  How to describe what I’d pulled off? “At Mama’s I wanted Elessir off your case after he threw you into the table,” I said, the memory making me fidget from foot to foot. “And then it was all about keeping him out of my face, and wanting to smack him too. I guess I did both. I kind of pushed at him without using my hands. Hard.”

  “What happened?”

  I couldn’t hide a smug little grin. “I threw him into a table.”

  Come to think of it, that did make me feel rather butch.

  “Oh, but it’s a dangerous woman you are, Kendis,” Christopher said, letting out a bright peal of laughter. “But I won’t be needin’ you to throw me into tables. Just do what you did in the truck—reachin’ for me with what you’ve got in you.”

  His laughter was every bit as captivating as Malandor’s thrall, but far purer, far cleaner. I wanted to do anything to get him to smile and laugh again, even as I remained gloriously aware of myself out in a rainy Seattle summer night, about to commit an act of honest-to-God magic. This magic thing, it seemed, was growing on me.

  So I bobbed my head and took a stab at it. My magic perked up as I sought it out, like a friend waving excitedly to catch my eye across a crowded room. I focused on it, felt it almost purr, and wondered if it could be as easy as thinking about that internal energy just flowing right down to Christopher’s hand.

  Apparently it could. Heat like a tiny sun ignited between our palms, throwing out a burst of small white sparkles that faded as quickly as they appeared. I squeaked and almost let go of Christopher’s fingers, but he held on. “Jesus!” he cried. “No, no—don’t stop! I think this is a good thing—”

  “Are you sure?” I gulped. The sparkles winked out as my concentration faltered, but I felt them lurking just under my skin, waiting to jump out. “That didn’t happen before!”

  His breathing went shaky, but Christopher didn’t look alarmed. He nodded swiftly at me and said, “Just never felt the like o’ that, is all! Keep it comin’, and don’t worry! I can take it, I’m a Warder.” With that, he paused and repeated, awestruck, “Dear God, I’m a Warder.”

  Tightening my grip on his hand, focusing once more on sending my magic toward our twined fingers, I urged, “Show me!”

  His eyes shifting to gold, Christopher inhaled; then I felt his new power roll right down to his feet and dig deep into the earth.

  We stood within arm’s reach of the nearest window of the house. Christopher snapped his head around to it, and his hand slapped against the windowsill as if magnetically pulled. More and more sparkles spilled off our hands, growing more distinct by the second in the flashlight’s glow, and not just white ones either; others of a warm shade of greenish gold that had to be Christopher’s joined them. The two colors swirled into one another, streaming up along his arm and out over his spread fingers to dissipate over the breadth of the window. Fierce delight blazed across his face, and surprise and joy through me; he looked like a man doing what he was meant to do, and I was helping him do it.

  “It’s working. Oh God, Christopher, it’s working!”

  He fired me a scintillating grin and pulled me along the house to the next window in line. “C’mon, girl, let’s keep it comin’!”

  We did. It was a good thing the house had only one floor, since that let us reach all of the windows without a ladder, though I wondered how long that would have remained an obstacle when the surge of our combined power seemed enough to make us fly. It was ludicrously simple, moving with Christopher around the house and channeling him energy while he coated each window and door in light. By the time we’d visited all the sides of the building, I felt lightheaded enough that I might as well have been airborne. It was exhilarating. It was exhausting. And it was the most incredible thing I had ever experienced.

  When we returned to the back door, we had to lean on one another for support even as we giggled at the sheer dizzying excitement of what we’d done. We held it together long enough to Ward the door and then get inside so I could lock it; then the caffeine rush of power began to fade, giving way to simple physical exhaustion. But our hands stayed joined as we collapsed together on the couch, right in the middle of my scattering of small fat African-print pillows. The touch of Christopher’s fingers was the last thing I remembered as I plummeted headlong into contented sleep.

  * * *

  Nearby voices eventually coaxed me back towards awareness, though not all the way. I was warm and comfortable, and part of me sensed my second-favorite blanket, the red polar fleece one, draped across me. Loath to abandon the first real sleep I’d enjoyed in the last few nights, I drowsed and listened to Christopher and Jude murmuring to one another. The faintly Hispanic flavor of Jude’s alto and the broad, rolling lilt of Christopher’s baritone were as comforting as the blanket; if I could hear them, they were nearby and safe.

  “Aggie said she hasn’t heard from Millie yet.” That was Jude. “Do you think we should wake Kendis up and go check her place again? You guys both looked pretty bushed when I got up.”

  Christopher gave a sheepish little giggle, oddly boyish and incongruous with his deep voice
. “We were, after all the magic we laid on the house last night.”

  “You seem okay with it.”

  “I am.” He paused and then added, “I’ve taken up the Wardin’ in truth. It’s helped.”

  “Oh! Congrats on that—but is Ken okay with it? I’ve never seen anything shake her up as badly as all this.”

  “She’s strong. With all she’s discovered, I’m amazed she’s held together as well as she has.” Another pause. “And you, Jude Lawrence? You’re holdin’ up?”

  Jude chuckled. “Who, me? Hey, pal, I’m not the one going all elfy. I’m fine.” Now she took a turn to hesitate before she went on, “Look, Christopher. Ken said you saved her life, and this whole Warder gig seems to be a good thing, so I’m cool with that. But I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at Kendis.”

  One beat. Two. Three. Then Christopher said gruffly, “Are you approachin’ a point?”

  “Yeah. Your intentions look honorable, but since Kendis isn’t the only one blown away these days, I’m electing myself her watchdog. Don’t make me kick your ass, okay?”

  Christopher let out a startled, choked little bark of laughter. But his voice was firm as he said, “It’s a fine watchdog you are, Jude. Don’t worry. I’ll do nothin’ that’ll make you need to bite.”

  Then I drifted off again, with the red fleece blanket wrapped around my body and the soft brush of Christopher’s voice wrapped around my ears. Time blurred, and it seemed only moments later when I heard the phone ringing—and his voice again.

  “Kendis. Wake up.” His big hand gently shook my shoulder. “We’ve got Millie on the phone.”

  “I’m awake, I’m awake…” Groggily I stirred, jolting Fortissimo, who’d stretched out atop my side and was purring up a storm, his forepaws draped over my shoulder, his rear ones digging into my hip. Fort mewled and jumped down to the floor while I blinked up at Christopher. Jude stood just behind him, worried of eye and furrowed of brow. “Where is she? Is she okay?”

  By way of reply, the young Warder held out my phone. I snatched it, anxious to hear Millie’s voice. “Millie, this is Kendis, where are you?”

  “Renton,” Millicent answered, with what would have been her usual vigor if she weren’t speaking in a breathy whisper. “I’m in the ER down here.” I cried out at that, but she went on without stopping, “Send Jude down here to get me pronto. I can’t stay off Seattle ground much longer.”

  “We’ll be right down—”

  “You stay put, girlie, you hear me?” Volume only added to the raggedness of Millie’s voice. “No matter what’s happened to me, you’re still in danger. The boy’s told me he Warded your house, so don’t you set one foot outside it till I get back up there. And he stays with you!”

  Fear struck me at the idea of sending my friend off by herself, even if it was to fetch Millicent, but I fought to keep from snapping at the old woman. The weakness in her voice disturbed me greatly; what in the world had happened to her? “But Jude shouldn’t go out alone.”

  “Don’t argue with me!” Somewhere behind Millicent’s waspish retort, I heard another voice saying something sternly admonishing. It might have been a doctor or a nurse, for Millie barked, “For God’s sake, sonny, stop hovering! I damned well know what I need, and you ain’t in a position to provide it!” Then she added to me, with just enough desperation to alarm me even more, “Get Jude down here! Now!”

  Then she hung up, leaving me with a dial tone and Christopher and Jude’s concerned faces. “She’s in Renton in the ER,” I told them. “She says for Jude to come get her—and Christopher and me to stay.”

  “No!” Christopher insisted, looking as horrified by the idea as I felt.

  “On it,” Jude pronounced at the same time. She whirled to fetch her shoes and her keys, and I had to jump after her to stop her. But she whipped up a hand and thrust it against my chest to stop me first. “Ken, babe, don’t even start. Millie said that you need to keep a low profile, and hey, I may be clueless about all this magic stuff, but I happen to think she’s right. I’m not the one the Sidhe want. You are.”

  “We can’t let you go out unprotected!” I cried.

  “Who said anything about unprotected?” Jude turned to the flabbergasted Christopher. “Yo, you’re official now. Magic me up like you did Kendis.”

  Understanding rolled across Christopher’s face at the same time it hit me. “Hold that thought,” I said, lifting a hand for a pause and then rushing off down the hall to my bedroom. Fortissimo indolently looked up from grooming himself amidst the rumpled quilt and sheets on my unmade bed as I bolted for the jewelry box sitting on top of my dresser. It took only seconds to find what I wanted, a circular pendant painted with a vividly hued image of the Yoruba goddess Yemoja set on a woven cord of blue, green, and gold. Returning to the others, I held it out and proclaimed in satisfaction, “Put the Ward on this.”

  For a moment I thought Jude might balk; her eyes went wide, and then very full. “Your favorite pendant,” she murmured.

  “A gift freely given.” I smiled at her. “Seems only fair.”

  This time the Warding went far more easily. Once Jude had the Yemoja pendant on, Christopher cupped it in one hand and simply looked at it for a few seconds. My magic flickered awake in response to his, as though eager to unite with it once more. But that thought made me blush, and so I stood back and let him do his work.

  “That should do it,” he said when he was done. His eyes were warm with the same wonder he’d shown the night before; I smiled at the sight of it.

  “Bitchin’,” said Jude. She’d put on her shoes while I was in the bedroom. Now she squared her shoulders and flashed Christopher and me an impish salute. “Ensign Expendable, departing as ordered. Too bad I don’t have a red shirt with me.”

  I stepped over to hug her. “Be careful, okay?”

  “They want me, they’ll have to catch me,” Jude said, hugging me back. Then, with a sidelong glance at Christopher, she leaned over to whisper in my ear, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” I blinked and spluttered, but before I could think of a comeback she scampered out the door. “See ya!”

  Left with nothing to do but close the door behind her, I did just that. And I turned around to Christopher, blushing furiously and wondering if he’d caught that little whisper. He had. His cheeks were bright red, his expression pure mortification; he stared at me as though he’d never seen me before. I scrambled to say something light and witty, but he spoke first. And what he said surprised me.

  “You might want to take a peek in the mirror.”

  I looked up at him without comprehension—then the clue switch flipped on. Dread, nervousness, and anticipation all winged through my system, propelling my dash to the bathroom. In through the open door, flick of the light switch, and then it was time for another episode of Weird Reflections in the Mirror Theater. I sucked in a breath, stared, and wondered when I’d escaped out from under the cardboard box a small blond boy and a stuffed tiger had labeled ‘Elf’.

  My face was still recognizably my own. But to go along with my yellow eyes, something subtle had altered the structure of the bones beneath my skin, making my features seem more delicate without changing them in any obvious way. My hair still frizzed in its wild mass around my face, brow, and shoulders, but with a new reddish sheen, as though someone had hennaed it in my sleep or tempered the raw umber of my untidy curls in flame.

  Swallowing hard, I lifted up my hair and turned my head left and right to see my ears. They weren’t pointed like my mother’s, or Elessir’s, or those of the three Seelie who’d been led by my uncle. But the tops of them bore a distinct angle now, definitely points in progress.

  I stood there and stared, unsure of what I saw.

  Or rather, what it meant, for what I looked like was not really the point. Tapered ears and citrine eyes were only the outward trappings of the new dimension to the world—to me—that I’d discovered on the Burke-Gilman trail. Millicent had said the magic in my bloo
d might change me, but that if I set my mind to it, I could choose which path the power roiling through me would take, what shape it would finally give me.

  So what did I want?

  Slowly I reached up to rub my fingers across the wolf’s head pendant. It warmed at my contact, which felt comforting, like friendship or Aggie’s quilts. This was it, I thought, evidence that magic didn’t have to be frightening or destructive, that it could cause good things along with harm. If it was to be a part of me, I wanted that hope. It made me feel less like a tornado-level accident waiting to happen.

  I thought of Warding the house with Christopher, and smiled.

  A movement in the corner of my eye and the faint scuff of his socks on the floor told me he’d come to the bathroom door. He didn’t say anything, but rather just waited and watched me with patient, knowing eyes.

  After a few moments more I asked, my voice small, “It doesn’t bother you? I mean, that I’m… fey?” I turned to look up at him. My aunt had known since I was born and had raised and loved me as her own child. Millicent seemed old and worldly enough that I doubted anything would trouble her, and though I knew all the revelations about me were unsettling Jude, she was going out of her way to treat me the same as she always had. For that, I was grateful beyond words.

  I had known Christopher for only two and a half days; he should have been a stranger to me. And yet, he wasn’t. Something in me had known him on a fundamental level from the first time I’d felt that prickling current flowing between us—from the moment his blood had touched my skin and the magic awakening in both of us had intertwined. That same something was certain, deep within my blood and bone, that I would not scare him away.

  But, I realized, I still needed to hear him say it. Ironically that helped somehow; it made me feel more like me.