My power began to roil. The shot glass trembled in my clenched fist. Before it could shatter, I bolted the whisky and signaled for the waitress. I scrawled my room number on the bill and scrambled off my stool, shooting a murderous glance towards the lobby when I recognized the strains of “People” coming from the gay boy’s piano.
People who need people are not the luckiest people in the world. They’re as sad and lonely and desperate as the ones who attended my seminars.
Spying another exit, I veered away from the lobby, grimacing when I noticed a short flight of semi-circular stairs carpeted in faux tiger skin that led to some sort of “jungle room.” The young couple seated in the rattan armchairs gaped at me as I stormed past, but I didn’t care. I had to get out before my power shattered every window in the lounge.
I flung open the glass door and darted onto a brick patio, where I forced myself to slow lest some passing human notice my otherworldly speed. A walkway lined with tall, ornamental shrubs offered a modicum of privacy. I followed it away from the covered entryway of the hotel and picked my way into a small patch of pachysandra.
Earth below me. A haze-shrouded moon above. A cool breeze—redolent with the salty spray of the sea—kissing my face. The embrace of the elemental forces of nature allowed me to slough off the unpleasantness with Penny. The proximity of the spring equinox helped me regain my sense of balance. A few deep, cleansing breaths and I was calm again.
Then I felt them. The same fae I had sensed earlier. Only much closer now.
The energy seemed to be coming from that tall building a block away with the words “The Lofts at New Roc City” emblazoned in white neon. An apartment complex, perhaps? But if memory served, New Roc City was some sort of indoor amusement park. A perfect spot to troll for humans. And so easy to lure them away from such mundane forms of recreation as movies and mini-golf and bowling.
Their energy pulsed with excitement; clearly, they had sensed me, too. I hoped they were merely curious. If they considered me an interloper, there would be trouble. I was still strong enough to defend myself from a lone attacker, but against a gang of young fae …
My only option was to scurry back to the hotel. Humiliating to flee, but I would be safe there; even they would never cause a scene in public. This little garden was just dark enough to represent a challenge.
I turned toward the hotel entrance and drew up short when I discovered Penny trotting down the walkway. I groaned aloud and hurried towards her.
“We need to talk,” she said.
“Not here. Not now.”
“Yes, here. Yes, now.”
I seized her arm. She planted her feet like a recalcitrant mule.
“Penny, please… .”
But it was already too late. A shadowy figure flitted across the patio. Another eased between the shrubs. I whirled around and spied a third mounting the stairs that led down to the parking lot.
Theatre critics had compared me to the greatest actors throughout history. Women and men alike had wept and cheered at my performances. All show, of course. No substance. Like my seminars. The fae would sense that. But show was all I had.
Penny stiffened, finally noticing their presence. They closed in slowly—two boys and a girl hovering on that dangerous cusp between adolescence and adulthood. In spite of my fear, I had to admire their ineffable grace and beauty. Even their grungy clothes and carefully maintained glamour failed to conceal it completely.
A wave of longing suffused me—for my youth, for Faerie. It had been so long since I had encountered any of my kind.
The taller boy grinned at me. The other one scowled. The girl simply maintained a watchful distance.
I offered them a brief nod of greeting, but placed my hand over my heart in token of my peaceful intent. “Good evening, friends.”
The tall boy snickered. “You old guys always have such nice manners.”
I merely nodded and tightened my grip on Penny’s arm. Of course, the boy noticed; they noticed everything at that age: the smallest gesture, the underlying anger hidden behind a smile.
He nodded toward Penny. “She yours?”
“Yes.”
Penny stirred restively, and the boy grinned. “She doesn’t seem to think so.”
“Suppose we leave her out of this.”
“Suppose we don’t want to.”
“I’m not looking for trouble.”
“I don’t expect you are.”
“We’re only here for the day. We’ll be leaving in the morning.”
“Maybe.”
He rocked casually on the balls of his feet. The girl sidled a little closer. I retreated into the pachysandra, pulling Penny with me.
“Penny,” I said without taking my gaze from them, “why don’t you go back to the hotel? I’ll join you in a moment.”
“No.”
“Penny …”
“I’m staying with you.”
I risked a glance at her. Her pointed chin was thrust out defiantly, but I could feel the tremors coursing through her arm.
“Can’t control your girlfriend?” the shorter boy taunted.
“You know how it is with these old guys,” the taller one replied. “Control’s the first thing to go.”
Penny bristled like an angry cat. “Go fuck yourself, asshole.”
“You’re not helping,” I muttered between clenched teeth.
“Maybe we’d rather fuck you,” the tall boy said, still smiling pleasantly.
“Maybe I’d rather fuck a duck.”
My breath hissed in. If they were merely human adversaries, it would have been foolhardy to provoke them. But to antagonize three young fae looking for a little sport on a Saturday night …
Thank all the gods in this world and the other, they seemed more amused than angered by her truculence. But that, of course, could change in a heartbeat.
“Maybe we should fuck a duck and then fuck her,” the short one suggested. Rather unimaginatively, I thought. Even the fae had lost some of their cleverness over the centuries.
That helped calm me. I even managed to infuse my voice with a hint of boredom. “Maybe we should all just go our separate ways.”
The tall boy shrugged. “Not much fun in that.”
“Or this.”
“For you, maybe.”
He darted toward us, and I yanked Penny away so abruptly that she gasped. Too intent on the boys, I failed to notice the girl until Penny gasped again.
The girl snaked her left arm around Penny’s waist and pulled her close. Her right hand came up to caress the spiky magenta hair. Penny’s face contorted with anger and then relaxed as those green fae eyes ensnared her.
“Pretty,” the girl said, tweaking a spike.
The boys chuckled, content to watch—for now.
“Let her go.”
“Soon.”
Penny’s terror battered my senses, but her gaze was wide and trusting, her mouth curved in a hesitant smile. The girl’s lips brushed Penny’s temple. Her tongue flicked out to lap against Penny’s cheek. Her hand slid down that slender throat to cup a small breast.
The flood of emotion took me by surprise. Fear. Rage. Possessiveness. Humiliation. And something else I failed to identify as my control snapped and my pent-up emotions coalesced into a wave of power that knocked the fae girl backward and made the shorter boy wince. I heard the crack of shattering glass as the lamps illuminating the patio exploded, the icy tinkle of the shards pattering onto the bricks, and my voice thundering, “That’s enough!”
I sensed more than saw Penny’s legs buckle and flung my arm around her waist. If I’d had enough power, I would have given her calm and reassurance, but all I could do was hold her.
The girl’s lips curled in a feral snarl. The shorter boy radiated astonishment. The tall one merely seemed … interested.
“Is this what we have sunk to?” I demanded. “Once, we were the shepherds of this world, living in harmony with the earth and all her creatures. Even after w
e retreated behind the mists, we remained beings of beauty and grace and majesty. We instilled awe in those who encountered us. Inspired generations of poets and writers, composers and artists. Offered mystery and possibility to a world mired in the grinding crush of reality. But look at you. Pranksters. Mischief makers. Soulless seducers.”
The words reminded me of my contemptuous delight at suckering the audience, my calculated decision to seduce Elena/Helena/Something.
“Look at us,” I corrected in a trembling voice. “We’ve allowed cruelty to become a habit that hurts us as well as innocents like this girl. It must stop. We must stop. We are better than that. We have the potential for so much more. We have to unleash that potential. We have to … we have to …”
“Manifest,” Penny murmured.
“Yes! Manifest the possibilities! Change may be difficult, but surely every being is capable of it. We need to change. To transform. To affirm that transformation to the world. Right here. Right now. And nurture the new selves we have brought into being!”
A wild excitement filled me, a reckless urge to throw back my head and fling out my arms and embrace the whole world. The feeling warmed me like single malt whisky even as it cooled the sweat beading my brow. It set my nerves tingling one moment and soothed them the next. I felt alive and strong and more powerful than I had in years. Decades.
And the fae understood. More importantly, my kinfolk felt these same emotions. Their beautiful green eyes grew impossibly wide as they contemplated the possibilities. When they burst into laughter, I laughed with them, carried along by their pleasure, giddy with my own delight. If not for the need to support Penny, I might have rolled in the pachysandra with them, too. Instead, I just watched, relishing their joy.
It took several minutes for them to regain control. They lay on the ground, staring up at us, still shaking with silent chuckles.
“Manifest the possibilities!” the tall boy wheezed.
That started them off again.
“Affirm the transformation!” the other one cried, drawing whoops of laughter from his comrades.
“Nurture our new selves!” the girl gasped.
By then, my smile had faded. It vanished altogether when the tall boy dragged himself to his feet, wiped his eyes, and announced, “You should do stand-up, Grandpa. That was the funniest shit I’ve ever heard.”
The other two rose, still giggling. The tall boy sketched a mocking bow to me and another to Penny. “Sir. Madam. It’s been a rare treat.”
They strolled off in the direction of New Roc City. Now and then, one would exclaim, “Have you started manifesting your possibilities?” or “Don’t make me come over there and unleash your potential!” And they’d all stagger with helpless glee.
So much for transformation.
Belatedly, I realized that I was still clutching Penny. I eased free and peered at her anxiously, but she was watching the fae.
“Who were those guys?”
“Those guys,” I replied, “were assholes.”
Penny responded with a most un-Penny-like giggle. Then she regarded me so intently that a new wave of anxiety rippled through me.
“You were great,” she finally said.
I shook my head, embarrassed by my ridiculous display and my failure to correctly interpret the reactions of the young fae.
“I mean it,” Penny insisted. “I’d have bought the CD in a heartbeat.”
That won a very small smile from me. “Ah. But would you have sprung for the affirmation cards, too?”
Her nose wrinkled as she grimaced. “The book, maybe. But not those stupid cards. No offense.”
“None taken,” I replied. And was surprised to discover that I meant it. “Well. I suppose we should—”
Penny stopped my words by throwing her arms around my neck and kissing my cheek. Before I could react, she stepped away and shoved her fists in the pockets of her jeans.
“That was just … you know.”
“Yes.”
“I wasn’t coming on to you or anything.”
“No.”
“Anyway. Thanks. For protecting me.”
Protectiveness. That was the emotion I had been unable to identify. Imagine feeling protective toward Penny. The mind boggled.
“I could have killed that bitch. But somehow …” Penny’s hands fluttered wildly; clearly, she was still experiencing the after-effects of our run-in with the fae.
I snagged one flailing hand and tucked it in the crook of my elbow. Then I guided her up the walkway toward the main entrance. Her eyes widened when she saw the shards of the shattered lights littering the patio. Fortunately, the hotel’s windows and doors appeared to be intact.
“Did you do that?”
I hesitated a moment, then said, “I think so.”
“How?”
“Let’s just say it was another senior moment.”
I prayed she would let it go at that. I was exhausted, utterly drained from the events of this tumultuous day. I felt … thinned, as if my flesh had grown translucent over my bones. One day, it would. But the hand I held in front of my face merely looked a bit paler than usual.
“That’s kind of cool,” Penny said.
“What? Oh. The lamps.”
“Scary, but cool. I just hope you don’t ever get pissed at me. Really, really pissed, I mean. I don’t want my eyeballs popping out or my guts exploding.”
“I wouldn’t want that, either. Very messy.”
She stuck her tongue out, and I smiled. Dear gods, the resilience of the young.
“This has been some weird fucking night, huh?”
“Very.”
“You know, if you did that … what you did with them … in front of an audience …”
“I would have to find another source of income.”
“No. It would be awesome.”
“Really?”
“Totally.”
The glass entry doors slid open to admit us. Penny’s forehead creased in a puzzled frown as I urged her towards the piano and leaned close to the boy to whisper my request.
She laughed when he launched into “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life.” Then she began to sing. I filled in the whistles. We were still singing and whistling when we entered the elevator; after all she’d been through tonight, she didn’t need to trudge up four flights of stairs.
Her smile faded as she hesitated outside her room. Yesterday, I might have feared she intended to invite me to spend the night. Tonight, of course, I understood the source of her hesitation and the shivering that wracked her body.
It affected all humans differently, an encounter with the fae. But after the glamour wore off, shock inevitably set in.
I plucked her key card from her fingers and inserted it into the lock. I grimaced when I gripped the steel door handle, but that was mostly habit; I felt little more than an unpleasant tingling in my palm.
She waited for me to turn on all the lights and pull the drapes closed before stepping inside. “Would you mind staying?” she asked in a small voice. “Just until I fall asleep?”
“Of course not.”
She emerged from the bathroom in a pink-flowered flannel nightgown that looked two sizes too big for her slender frame and a pair of purple socks with a hole in one toe. I felt an absurd tug of fondness for her, coupled with an unexpected flash of fear, and recognized it as the same protectiveness that had swamped me earlier. Strange that one emotion should encompass both fondness and fear. Stranger still that I should feel it.
I tucked her into bed and impulsively bent down to stroke that impossible hair.
“Try and sleep. We have to be up early tomorrow if we want to reach Stamford by 8:30.”
Her smile lingered long after her eyes closed.
I left the light on in the bathroom lest she awaken in darkness and become frightened, but I snapped off the others and cracked open the drapes again before settling myself in the armchair by the window. The man reflected in the narrow rectangle of g
lass stared back at me. He looked oddly unfamiliar and unbearably fragile. Almost … human.
Then his lips puckered in a silent whistle and—after a long moment—he smiled.
HOW MUCH SALT
April Steenburgh
The world had gotten smaller, and no one had seen fit to tell him.
Dylan peered out at the gaggle of humans picking at carefully arranged bits of food balanced on plates that seemed fated to spill. His favorite summer basking spot was taken up by a young dandy and a woman he appeared to be failing to woo. Her eyes were on the gulls, dipping and whirling overhead while calling out their aggravation at the intruders.
The humans made pretty pictures, true, but when had they started to appear scattered through his favorite haunts? The dry calls of irritated seals mixed in with the eternal shouting of the surf, most likely lost on the humans. Dylan’s gaze was pulled back to the ill-fated couple on his rock, the indelicate way in which the man was pressuring her, the resignation twined with unhappiness in her expression. It made his blood run hot, urging him to haul out of the surf and lay his head in her lap, to slip his skin and kiss the salty tears from her eyes.
The sight of a selkie male would ruin that woman forever; no human man would be able to measure up in her eyes after. Why then did they all hover in the surf, glaring at the interlopers?
It was the unexpected aspect of the situation. Humans were supposed to skulk around the same fishing and washing spots they had always appeared in. There was no precedent for finding them wallowing around on selkie beaches.
Dylan added a confused, angry huff to the mutterings of the colony of selkies scattered through the waves around him. This was his territory, and this … invasion would not be tolerated.
A bull seal charging up onto the rocks was not intimidating enough, no matter how he barked and called, posturing and puffing in aggression. The humans were startled, but instead of sublimating into satisfying fear, they seemed to settle into … doting. Nature was quaint, if one went by their inane chatter. Dylan suffered their cooing and cajoling with ill grace, settling on his preferred spot with something very close to a sullen air. He closed his eyes, taking comfort in the way food had slithered and slipped from plates at his disruption.
The Modern Fae's Guide to Surviving Humanity Page 14