by John Osborne
“You’re right about that,” she said, nodding. “I felt strange. I’m never so unsettled.”
“I could see that, but I could also feel it. Even stranger, we kept getting into synch. When you got angry with me, I became angry, too, but I couldn’t figure out why at the time. When you were sad, so was I. And you seemed embarrassed a couple of times, right after I was.” Willow nodded her agreement. “Is this a fairy thing? Do you do this with everyone?”
“No. Fairies can sense human feelings, but not this thing you and I are doing.” She paused and blushed. “I mean other people’s feelings. Sorry, that is a fairy thing, saying ‘human’. We can sense feelings and emotions. That’s why we’re uncomfortable around groups of people. It can be quite confusing and unnerving when you sense every emotion in the room. With one or two persons, we can block it out, but more can be nasty. But we never emulate emotions from someone else. No, what you and I seem to be doing is new. I’ve never heard of anything like it.” Her brow furrowed.
If you can feel what I’m feeling, I need to be careful.
Willow’s thought seemed to break and she looked up. “What were you just thinking?”
“Nothing. Not to change the subject,” Noah said, “but I’m surprised you’re telling me this fairy lore.”
“Well, I decided before I came over to do a stupid thing. I’m going to trust you.”
“What changed since this morning?”
“Call it fairy intuition, if you like.” She grinned. “And maybe it is stupid since now I know you can influence my emotions. You could plant trusting thoughts in my head, but I don’t think you will. I know we just met two days ago, but ever since you first came to the cottage I’ve had the feeling … that I already know you somehow.”
“I have the same sensation. Like—deja knew.”
Willow giggled. “Yes, that’s it exactly! Do you think this emulating is both of us or is one of us projecting our feelings on the other?”
“Is it one projecting or the other one detecting?”
“Ouch! My head is starting to hurt,” Willow said. They laughed.
“I guess it doesn’t matter,” Noah said, “as long as you trust me.”
“I do, and that’s a big step for a fairy. Much is at stake. You asked me this morning and I didn’t answer. There are other fairies, many fairies, all around the world. Every country has some. Not as many as long ago, but we’re still around. We stick to rural and remote areas now. I know a few urban fairies, but it’s a difficult environment for us. It’s safer for us to stay spread out and alone.” She looked Noah in the eyes. “By trusting you I put all of my kind in jeopardy. Secrecy is our strength.”
“You can trust me, but what’s the need for the secrecy? Wouldn’t it be easier to just come out of the fairy closet, so to speak?”
“We’ve discussed the idea for many years. Centuries. Our special powers are the issue. Fairies can do many things you haven’t seen yet. Like this, for example.”
She vanished. One instant there, gone the next. Noah’s eyes felt odd until they refocused on the wall behind where she had stood.
“How…” he began. He stood with his mouth open, looking in all directions to see if she was anywhere else in the room. She snickered and a blurred image of her face floated in the air for a moment. Her voice came from where she had stood.
“I wish you could see your face.” Her lips became visible as she spoke.
“I wish I could see yours, too.” An instant later, she reappeared before him, grinning broadly.
Noah shook his head. “Was that fairy magic?”
“I don’t know if it’s magic or not. It’s a thing we do. We call it winking.”
Noah laughed. “Winking?”
Willow frowned. “What’s so funny?”
“I don’t know. Winking just sounds, I guess, juvenile or—”
Willow’s expression went cold. “Juvenile?”
Lady, you’ve got a short fuse.
Noah held his hands up. “Sorry. Just learning fairy lore.”
Willow took a breath and let it out. “We call it winking because it’s so fast. If you winked, you would miss it.”
“But wouldn’t that make it blinking?”
“No, because winking is intentional and blinking isn’t. I asked a fairy physicist once how it works. He says we bend light. Imagine you’re looking at a big movie screen made up of the ends of thousands of optic fibers. When a fairy disappears, it’s as if we slip between the fibers so you can see what’s behind us. It works for our body and anything within an inch or so, better if the light isn’t bright. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, yes. Imagine an army of extra-strong soldiers able to fly and disappear and withstand heat and cold. What would that be worth to most countries? Just letting the general population know we existed would make our lives miserable. We wouldn’t have any privacy in today’s society. So we’ve cultivated the myth that we’re—a myth.”
“Is all the stuff I read on the Internet misinformation, like the fact iron is deadly for fairies? It doesn’t affect you, obviously.”
“No, it doesn’t or I wouldn’t have an iron gate on the cottage. That’s an old idea we planted centuries ago. Stick an iron nail in a dead cow carcass and roll it down a hill. That will keep us nasty fairies away. Actually, the smell of the dead cow is what keeps us away. To answer your broader question, yes, most of what you read is a cover story. It’s safer for us. Noah, there’s nothing mystical about us or how we live. We just hide in the open among society. We’re just ordinary people. We get married and have kids, we live, we die—”
“And you fly,” Noah finished. “There is nothing ordinary about you, little fairy.” Willow blushed but didn’t respond. Noah continued. “Do fairies have any natural enemies?”
“As far as lions and tigers and bears, oh no. No animal would ever harm a fairy, not even a mosquito. Our biggest challenges are humans. We constantly struggle against two groups, which are Seekers and Hunters. Seekers aren’t bad people. They’re curious if the legends are true and want to get to know us, so they’re always trying to find evidence of our existence. Seekers would never harm us, not on purpose. They just want to sit around a fairy ring with us and drink mead or something. There’s been a huge increase in their numbers in the last thirty years since the move to new age thinking and the revival of old beliefs have both exploded.”
“Like Wicca.”
“Yes. Wicca is one of the belief systems that have promoted belief in the reality of supernatural beings, but so have many others, including the ones that promote angels. They’re a much bigger problem. It doesn’t help that some fairies can be mistaken for angels.”
“So, not all fairies are like you?”
“You don’t think I could be mistaken for an angel?” She folded her hands and bowed her head as if in prayer and her face and hands began to glow.
Your temper is too short to be an angel.
After a few seconds, Willow burst into laughter, and the glow subsided. “Slim chance,” she said. “No, there are several races. I’m a Dragon, because I have dragonfly wings. So is my best friend Rowan. We’re the fastest and most maneuverable fliers. There are the Wasps, who tend to be tall and thin, and short tempered. There are the Bumbles, who tend to be heavy and don’t fly often. The biggest group is the Butters, the ones with butterfly wings. They can be mistaken for angels if you only get a glance. The same is true for the Moths. They’re the night fairies and don’t go out during the day.”
My brain hurts.
“Back to the Seekers and Hunters,” Willow said. “The big threat from Seekers is accidental exposure to the Hunters. The Hunters know we exist, either by accident or by suspicion and probing. In different eras their numbers vary, but there are always enough to make us cautious. Every generation has them. Sometimes the Hunter tendency runs in families. The secret passes down through descendants. Some new ones appear on their own, too. Times past they’ve organized into large groups for systematic
hunts. Those are dark times for us. The last time they organized in this country was just before the Revolutionary War. Fortunately, the war distracted most of them. At least Hunters keep the secret. To them knowledge is power. They want to know what makes us tick. They want one thing, and that’s to capture a fairy alive. If they can’t get that, they’ll take a dead one.”
Noah felt another shiver go down his back. Willow seemed to, also.
“And you’re a member of the most sought after group,” Noah said.
“Yes. We’re not good fighters. No fairy is. We’re gentle creatures and we won’t hurt any living thing if we can help it. And we do not kill.”
“What about the male fairies? Are they better at fighting?”
“No. They don’t have wings. Only the women can fly.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.”
Willow shook her head. “I don’t feel sorry for them at all. They have some powers we women don’t—they can move things with their minds, and they can stay winked for several hours at a time. Female fairies are only good for a few minutes. They just move small things, unless several fairies work together. They are all terrible pranksters and delight in hiding things. That part of the fairy myth is true, I’m afraid.”
“You mean like when I can’t find my keys?”
“Yep. That’s one of their favorite targets. Father used to love to tell the story of how he and his buddy Roland got a bunch of friends together and moved a horse, a full grown, live horse mind you, out of a locked stable and into the kitchen of a man who had double-crossed Father in a business deal.”
They both laughed at the story.
“So you won’t defend yourselves?” Noah asked. “Seems to me you’ve got what it takes for a good fight.”
“Or for running. When fairies come of age, they take an oath called Guarding the Mystery. They perform a ceremony with their parents or guardians, and promise to preserve the secret at all costs.” She paused and looked at the floor. “I failed the oath by letting you see me fly.” She raised her glistening eyes to his.
Noah felt heartsick, but on his own account, not hers this time. “That was not your fault. I was trespassing. You thought you were alone. You had no way to know”
“But I do,” Willow said. She wiped her eyes. “Fairies can always sense the presence of a human. It’s our main line of defense. I should have known you were there, and you surprised me both times you came to the cottage. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Willow stood deep in thought.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Noah said. He tried as best he could to “feel” encouragement, hoping Willow would follow.
She looked up from her reverie and smiled at him. “You seem to know a lot about women’s feelings.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Mom says I’m empathetic. Dad says I’m just pathetic. Maybe it’s why you and I emulate so easily.”
“Perhaps. I know you are a unique soul, Noah Phelps.”
“So are you—” His mouth stuck on the sound wh.
I can’t say your name. I can’t get it to come out. I’ve tried.
Comprehension came across Willow’s face, a literal light, as her face glowed with a soft radiance. “You’ve never said my name.”
“Of course I have.”
“No, you haven’t,” she insisted. “You’ve always called me ‘Ms. Brown’ or avoided using my name.” She looked into his eyes. “What are you feeling right now?” she asked.
“Well, confused.”
“Hmm. I’ll bet we can control this emulation thing.”
Noah felt amusement for a moment and began to smile, but then it vanished. Willow grinned wickedly.
“Noah, say my name,” she commanded.
He couldn’t speak. His eyes locked on hers.
Louie never said your name, either.
“What is your name?” he whispered. His breath grew ragged. He felt … afraid, but he knew she wasn’t. Her voice remained gentle but insistent.
“You know my name. I told you the day we met. Noah, you need to say my name.” Her radiance grew stronger. “Take my hands,” she said. He looked at the two little hands she offered, the palms illuminated. His gaze returned to her eyes, dark in her gleaming face. He slowly placed his hands in hers.
Magic blossomed at their touch. Noah’s vision faded, blinded with radiance.
What’s happening to me?
“Noah, say my name,” a gentle voice said from somewhere.
With great effort, his mouth moved, breathed the word.
“Willow.”
Yes. Willow.
At last, her name flowed from his lips. “Willow.” Lovely, soothing, melodious. Effortless, it was now. Her name, and her dark eyes, filled his mind.
The fog cleared and he found his hands cupped Willow’s little round face, her hands atop his. Her smile was warm.
You’re so beautiful.
He had avoided these thoughts but now, her face close to his, radiant, she was captivating. Her sweet fragrance surrounded him.
Full awareness returned. His hands felt awkward on this beautiful woman he barely knew. He released her face; she released his hands. His hands dropped to his sides and he took a deep breath. Willow put her hands in her back pockets. She still smiled, but her glow faded. Her expression was triumphant.
What just happened?
“Now that was fairy magic,” Willow said.
Noah’s legs wobbled. Willow reached out and took him by the elbows. “Steady. You better sit down for a minute.” She guided him a step backward until he could lower himself to the bed, and then knelt on the floor so she could see his downturned face. “Don’t pass out on me.”
Noah rubbed a hand across his eyes and shook his head. “I’m alright,” he said. He took several deep breaths. Willow remained on the floor, watching him closely. “What did you do to me?” he asked.
“I didn’t do anything to you. We did something together.”
“Okay, so what did we do?”
“We confirmed you are a fairy friend,” she said in a matter of fact way.
“A what?”
Willow sprang up and paced, brimming with excitement.
“I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me. Well, maybe I do. All the signs were there. I didn’t connect them to realize what was happening. Wait ‘til Rowan hears this one.” She looked at the floor as she paced, hands in her pockets again.
“Okay, slow down. You need to interpret for this mere human.”
“Sorry,” she said, and stopped pacing. “Some humans have an extraordinary affinity for fairies. They tend to be attracted to us, more than Seekers. We call them fairy friends. Seekers are attracted by the idea of fairies. Fairy friends are just plain attracted, often without knowing they’re around a fairy. Most times, they’re people with a close relationship to nature or animals. They tend to be creative individuals and often, but not always, are involved in artistic work. They’re generally gentle, patient souls who are sensitive to psychic possibilities, even if they don’t think of it that way.” She paused. “Noah, I just described you.” She sat on the floor cross-legged in front of him.
Noah was skeptical.
“I can tell you don’t believe me,” she said, “Tell me, what brought you to the woods?”
“Louie Miller did. He told me about the pond.”
“Did he mention anything else?”
“Well, yes. He mentioned you lived there. But I didn’t know anything about you. Like the fact you’re a fairy, or might be. Louie didn’t tell me anything about you. Other than you were ‘just a little wisp of a thing’ as he put it.”
“He said that? Interesting.”
“Oh, and he said you would like me.”
Willow smiled. “You mentioned that before. Did you find the road easily?”
“No, not at all, it’s a pain in the butt to find. After I found the entrance I figured out the missing sign trick.”
“Clever, huh? Instead of looking for somet
hing that’s there, you have to look for something that isn’t. We’re off the subject. Why did you keep looking?”
“I don’t know,” Noah mused. “But it was more than the pond. That was the original reason, but once I went to the woods, I felt something. Just driving through, I felt drawn. Normally a spot so difficult to locate would drop off my list, but I kept feeling I should try.” He paused. “I guess maybe you’re right. Maybe there was some psychic connection I picked up on.”
“You were feeling me, or my fairy aura, to be precise. Fairies have the opposite reaction to human fairy friends. You’re so in harmony with fairy things we can’t feel your presence. That’s why you surprised me when you came to the cottage, and why I didn’t sense you at the pond.”
Noah nodded. “When I walked into the woods the energy was stronger the closer I came to your cottage. I’m adept at sensing energies, especially of places. I have been since childhood, though I didn’t know what it was until a few years ago. I’m a dowser now, and a pretty good one, whether I use rods or a pendulum.”
“Really? You’re a man of many talents.”
“Thanks. Anyway, I assumed the woods created the energy. Then I decided the cottage was the source, until you opened the door. And when we touched hands, I knew something was special about you.”
He stopped and gazed at Willow.
That’s when I fell in love with you.
“You have powerful energy, little fairy.”
Willow smiled. “What we did a few minutes ago with the name thing confirms you’re a fairy friend. The human partner can be overwhelmed by the psychic energy of the fairy. That can manifest in many ways, but the most common is a reluctance to say the fairy’s name aloud. Most ancient cultures knew the importance of a person’s name more than society does today. Think of the Native Americans and the huge importance they placed on names. A person’s name is the person. Some fairy friends find it almost impossible to say their fairy’s name. To get you to say it, I used some fairy persuasion.”
“It was certainly strong,” Noah said. “Tell me, since I’m your fairy friend, what am I supposed to do?”
“A fairy friend always does everything his fairy tells him,” Willow said with her most stern look. The look lasted maybe two seconds before she burst out laughing. “Okay, I’ll tell you the truth. Fairy friends exist to support, encourage, protect, and assist … whatever the fairy needs. They’re a kind of soul buddy, if you know what I mean. The connection with the fairy can become extremely close, and it goes both ways. The fairy helps the mere human, too. My best friend Rowan has a fairy friend named Ruthie. They’ve been together for about eight years, and they can complete each other’s sentences. In their particular case, they’ve moved in together, but that’s not usual. Some married fairies have fairy friends. My mother had a fairy friend when I was younger. Sometimes the relationship is a distant one with only occasional visits.”