Just Believe

by Manning

  Gaelen stared in disbelief. “Eochy, that's unreasonable. We all,” he motioned around the chamber, “have careers, lives out there. We can't just drop them—” He paused, not even having the words to continue, “to do what? To go where?”

  “I suspect we'll all be ordered back to Ireland.”

  The grumble of discontent grew louder.

  “Look, people, I didn't do this. Irresponsibility like that practiced by Lucas Riley did.” Eochy leaned back in his big chair. “Don't you remember the stories in Britain in the twenties? A bunch of fairies thought it would be fun to reveal themselves to some schoolgirls. These schoolgirls got their little Brownie camera out and, voila! Sir Arthur Conan Doyle gets on the case and our pictures are all over the London papers.” He sighed. “I understand, believe me I do, but times have changed. Revealing ourselves only results in mortal folk going out of their way to disprove our existence. Do you know how many fairies faded to nothing, just because a number of our group couldn't keep their wings folded up?”

  Eochy's voice rumbled off the walls, rattling the magic stones in their brass mountings. The last time Eochy had gotten this worked up, he'd shattered a couple of stones and, until they could get some shipped in from Ireland, the North American Council of Fairies had held their meetings in the dark.

  “So, what happened, Eochy?” someone asked.

  “As far as I can tell, Lucas and this young lady, this—” Eochy referred to his notes. “Erin Tinker. Yes, she's a nursing student at the University. They were ... well, anyway, when he...” Eochy yanked his specs off. “His wings popped up, and she screamed, and he squooshed.”

  “He squooshed with his wings extended?” another fairy asked.

  “Ouch!” said one compassionate listener. “Didn't you explain the facts of life to your brother, Gaelen?”

  “My father did,” Gaelen replied, angry his family was the center of such a scandal. When Gaelen got his hands on his little brother, Lucas would have more to think about than a pair of sore wings.

  But such a mishap would explain the pain Gaelen sensed when he'd had contact with Lucas earlier. He felt Lucas's injury in the right wing, the torn connective tissue underneath the shoulder blade. A sympathetic twinge reminded Gaelen of a similar injury he himself had sustained in similar circumstances.

  But not with a human, for Bridget's sake!

  “He's hurt, Eochy.”

  “All the more reason to handle this matter right here. He must be brought before the Council. He must be dealt with. The girl, too.”

  Gaelen shuddered. “What are you saying?”

  Eochy's wise old black eyes fixed on him. “We might be able to handle this ourselves. But we must not be discovered. If we can contain this, prevent the tabloids from spreading the story, maybe I can convince the Elders to rescind their order. But, we can't risk our literal lives for the sake of our lives in the Otherworld. If the humans find out about us...” Eochy spread his hands. “Well, you know how quick they are to disbelieve.”

  “Some of them believe,” Gaelen said.

  Eochy nodded. “Some of them will believe anything. But humans as a race cling to the belief they have a clue about what's going on in the universe. When the scientists get started...”

  A murmur arose in the assembly and a wave of fear.

  “We'll all end up on ice at Area 51 with the aliens,” came a gruff prediction from the gallery.

  The idea of being a scientific curiosity appealed no more to Gaelen than it did to anybody else. If this story was true, then Lucas had committed a major felony.

  “So, what do you want me to do?” he finally ground out.

  “Find him. Bring him to us before the Elder Council learns of this incident.”

  “What will you do to him?” Gaelen asked, his belly twisting as he waited for the answer.

  “You know the penalty for consorting with a human and revealing the fairy nature.”

  Bile filled Gaelen's throat. He gulped it down and tried to keep his wings from trembling. “Eochy, you can't be serious.”

  Eochy closed his eyes and nodded gravely. “Banishment to Tir-Nan-Og.”

  Oh, Bridget, Gaelen thought, eternal life with no responsibility might sound good in theory, but the lack of challenge made a man soft, useless. After a few thousand years of constant partying, one would plead for the rigors of Hell out of sheer boredom.

  Personally, he'd rather be disbelieved to death. At least then he'd see what was on the other side.

  “And the human girl?”

  Eochy wouldn't meet Gaelen's eyes. “We will not be discovered, Gaelen.”

  Gaelen's sick stomach flipped over.

  “Find him and bring him to us.” Eochy rose. “If there is no other matter to be discussed today, I will close this meeting.” He looked across the table to Gaelen. “Get him a good advocate, Gaelen. Maybe something can be done to mitigate this mess. Especially if he cooperates in silencing the human girl.”

  Wings fluttered as the Council of One Hundred rose and departed.

  ~*~

  Gaelen sat alone at the table, only barely aware of how his wings were still twitching. Ordered back to Ireland. Bridget, what a curse.

  Not that he didn't like Ireland. He loved Ireland. He traveled there every year to talk to the Old Ones, to get new stories from fairies who'd been spinning tales for millennia. Since the days of Amergin, and the Spaniard's Land Swindle, he thought with a grin, and Tir-Nan-Og, the Land of Perpetual Youth, where you could live forever, young and strong and happy. Fairies were allowed to visit and even stay if the place took them, which it did—at first.

  He frowned. Club Med for fairies. A great place to visit, but not a place for a man to live.

  And even with wings on his back, Gaelen Riley was still a man, a man with a passion which couldn't be fulfilled in Tir-Nan-Og.

  Gaelen Riley's passion was teaching. How could a sprout like himself teach the Old Ones anything? How could he pass on to them the excitement of a tale of war and heroism and love? Fairies are war and heroism and love. But humankind, he thought, they need the stories. They need the inspiration. What would they do without us?

  In that instant, he understood what he had to do, even if it made him sick. It was Gaelen's responsibility to make sure Lucas and his human didn't rock the boat. The cost—to both human and fairy—would be too great.

  Surely the life of one human girl wasn't too much to ask to make sure the magic of fairy and the drive of humankind remained available to each other? For without the magic, humankind would be smothered in the mundane. Without the drive and excitement of humankind, the fairy would be rudderless.

  Bridget! He'd die of boredom. Better to get it over with quick.

  Gaelen folded his wings and picked up his torn shirt and jacket.

  Time to find Lucas and his human girl.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  It was the flash of light at the window that awakened her. Annabelle groaned and raised her stiff neck off the back of the chair where she'd fallen asleep. Only after looking around and rubbing her gritty eyes did she remember where she was.

  Erin stirred in her sleep and murmured Lucas's name. Annabelle stood by the high hospital bed and tucked the blankets tighter around her sister, as though she could protect Erin from the heartache Lucas Riley had left behind him.

  Ticky-ticky.

  Annabelle jerked her head toward the sound. A bright pinpoint flickered then faded, accompanied by a ticky-ticky as whatever it was hit the glass. She left the bedside and approached the window.

  “Fireflies?” The light continued its ticky-ticky tapping at the window.

  “Annabelle?” Erin's sleepy voice carried in the silence of the late hour. “Are you still here?”

  Quickly returning to Erin, Annabelle took her hand. “Yes, and I'm going to stay here until you're better.”

  Erin shook her head. “You don't have to stay. You have your own life. What about your job?”

  Annabelle smiled. “Don't y
ou worry about that; I have some vacation time. So, you'll have me in your hair until you're up and out of here and back to normal.”

  Erin took Annabelle's hand. “You think I'm crazy, too, don't you?” she asked pitifully.

  “No,” Annabelle answered truthfully. “I just think you've had a shock, and you're handling it the best way you can.”

  A huge sigh shook Erin's body. Annabelle thought she could hear tears hiding behind it.

  “He'd be here if he could,” Erin whispered.

  “Who?”

  Erin frowned. “Lucas, of course.”

  Her mouth opened and closed, but Annabelle couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't irritate her sister.

  “Look!” Erin's voice trembled. “They're here to get me, too!” She grabbed Annabelle's sleeve and pulled with one hand as she pointed with the other. “There. By the window! Just like when they took Lucas.”

  Annabelle followed the guidance of Erin's extended finger. There by the window was the solitary firefly.

  “Honey,” she said, her voice calm even if her heart was thumping a hundred miles an hour, “it's just a firefly. See?”

  “No, Annabelle, it can't be! It's too early for fireflies.”

  Only then did it hit Annabelle that it was March, far too early for fireflies.

  But, there it was, a flickering point of light dancing at the window, smacking against it, as though asking to come in.

  Annabelle shivered.

  “It's them! Don't let them get me!”

  Erin's grip tightened, pulling Annabelle onto the bed.

  “Erin! Let me go. I'll close the curtains.”

  “That won't help. They can come through the walls. Don't you watch the Sci-Fi Network?”

  “No, I don't,” Annabelle replied in a deliberately calm voice, trying to free herself from Erin's grip.

  “What about the stories you write for your paper?”

  “Erin, you know perfectly well I make those up.” Finally loosening Erin's hold on her, Annabelle quickly went to the window, jerking the curtains closed. Now as anxious about the mysterious flickering light as Erin was, she hurried back to Erin's side, tightly taking her sister's hand.

  The sisters stared at the closed curtains, waiting, listening. The ticky-ticky stopped.

  “Annabelle, what do you think it is?”

  “It's nothing. I'll bet it's only leaves falling or maybe even raindrops catching the light from the room.” Before Erin could inform her it wasn't raining, she added, “Or maybe your guardian angel looking in on you.”

  “I think I need one,” Erin whispered, still clinging to Annabelle's hand.

  “Hey, squirt, loosen up. I gotta go.” With a fake grimace, she tipped her head toward the bathroom.

  “Sorry,” Erin whispered. “Sorry.” She released Annabelle's hand, but her grip tightened again and she said in a hoarse whisper, “Hurry, though. I don't want to be here alone when they come.”

  Was she always going to be nuts? Annabelle wondered. It was a struggle to keep her tone easy when she answered. “Sure thing,” she said, and escaped with all possible speed into the adjoining bathroom. Annabelle gently closed the door and only then did she permit her body to start shaking and the tears to pool.

  “Oh, Erin,” she moaned, struggling to keep her voice low.

  It was so unfair. Sweet, trusting Erin had given her heart to a rat who'd betrayed her. Now the rodent was gone.

  At first Annabelle had been sure Erin had been driven delusional. Not only about the aliens who took Lucas, but about Lucas himself. Even after her visit to his apartment, Annabelle clung to her original theory: Lucas was laughing with his buddies in some bar about how he'd gotten Erin to put out and then left her to face the consequences alone. But she'd gone to every bar on Franklin Street, and a few on the side streets her father had forbidden her to even look at, much less enter.

  No Lucas.

  Of course, she hadn't told Erin any of this. She was sure her sister would go right off the edge if her fears about Lucas's safety were confirmed.

  Still he'd left her alone. No matter what happened later, that much was still true, and it was still enough to earn her big sister's ire. Preferring anger to fear, Annabelle nurtured that emotion.

  “The no-good—” She clipped off the rest of the words. He wasn't worth it.

  Thank Heaven, she'd listened to her Granny. At least she still had her self-respect, which was more than Erin would have when she finally snapped out of this fantasy.

  Meanwhile, she thought, her tears slipping trickling, one by one, down her cheeks, she could forget sharing the burden of their mother's care with her sister. Now Annabelle would have to put her own life on hold to take care of both Erin and their mother.

  Leaning over the small sink, she splashed cold water on her face and sniffed her tears to a stop. She dried her face and hands. Lowering the coarse white hospital towel, she stared into her own eyes.

  “Is this all life is? One disaster after another?” she whispered.

  Trying to see some hope in the plain brown eyes staring back at her from her reflection, Annabelle didn't notice the total silence until it was broken.

  “Lucas!” Erin's voice echoed clearly through the door. “I knew you'd come.”

  “Lucas?” She shook her head. No one would be allowed up here except family. Her shoulders drooped as she realized what Erin's words meant. “Oh, no, please. She's talking to herself.” It didn't take a medical degree and advanced psychiatric training to see the deterioration of her sister's condition. Would institutionalization be necessary? How in the world would they pay for it?

  Thoughts of state-run facilities and the horror of it all played through Annabelle's mind.

  “Annabelle,” Erin called softly, “come here, hurry. Lucas is here.”

  Eyes squeezed shut, Annabelle prayed for guidance. Should she go along with the fantasy and pretend to see Lucas? Or should she confront Erin with her delusion? Gulping a breath of courage, she pulled the door open and stepped into the room.

  Erin lay in her bed, face alight with happiness. There was no Lucas standing by the bed.

  “See, I told you he'd come,” she said.

  “Erin,” Annabelle began, “please, honey, can't you see you're just imagining? The lowdown, dirty skunk got what he wanted, and he left you alone in the woods, and you've just got to face facts.”

  Erin smiled, Cheshire cat-like. “Oh, really?”

  The scratching sound of the door and the scuffing of soft-soled shoes made Annabelle turn, expecting to see a night nurse coming with medication. Relieved to have some backup, she opened her mouth to ask for help in convincing Erin of her folly.

  A young man with shaggy russet hair, dressed in a doctor's green scrubs, peered out the door as it eased closed. He was very tall, slender but not slight, with wonderful, broad shoulders. Turning away from the door, he flashed a smile that twinkled in his black eyes and raised a finger against his lips. Annabelle watched him cross the room, pick up a straight-backed chair and take it to the door where he jammed it underneath the handle.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, alarmed by his action. “Who are you?”

  He came back toward her, his smile broadening as he extended his hand to her.

  “I'm the lowdown, dirty skunk, Lucas Riley.”

  ~*~

  Squooshed and flying, Gaelen picked up the trail easily enough. The particle residue Lucas had left behind burned bright. Even a human could have seen it.

  “Holy Bridget!” he whispered as he followed it eastward out over the ocean. “That must have been one great lay!”

  The thought that all this trouble was caused by sex made Gaelen even angrier. It wasn't as though Lucas couldn't have found a fairy woman to dally with. Or even a pixie. There were many right in Chapel Hill, each one of them beautiful and lush and willing.

  The coast of northern Africa came into view.

  Slowing only a little—too slow and humans could
see the pinpoint of light a squooshed fairy appeared to be, and it was better if they saw nothing at all—Gaelen oriented himself along the trail of fairy dust and followed it into the Valley of the Kings. The trail petered out at the Great Pyramid.

  At least Lucas had managed to keep himself on this world. Once, Gaelen forgot all his father's wise words and ended up on Jupiter, wing-deep in liquid ammonia and sore as hell. The girl hadn't spoken to him for years.

  Of course, she'd eventually come around and Gaelen had redeemed himself.

  Settling on the base of the Great Pyramid, Gaelen unsquooshed.

  “Whoa!” he put out his hand to steady himself, waiting for the dizziness to pass. He hated squooshing. It was unnatural, smashing your atoms, compressing all the space out of them and reducing yourself to the size of a speck of light. But the lightheadedness of unsquooshing was the worst of it.

  “Ah, but that's the fairy way,” he repeated his old da's words. And for this particular task, it was the only way. He had to find Lucas, and get him and the girl back to New Jersey.

  “Lucas!” His sent his voice out over the countryside. If Lucas were within fifty miles, he'd hear. And if he were hurt, as Gaelen suspected, he'd stay here until he healed.

  “Lucas!” He repeated his call and strained to hear a sound.

  For the first time since leaving the Council Chamber, Gaelen began to worry. What if Lucas were hurt more severely than Gaelen had thought? When he'd been in contact with Lucas that one time, the injury hadn't seemed too bad, but....

  “Lucas, answer me!”

  Where was he? Why no answer?

  He couldn't have flown back already, could he?

  Heart racing, Gaelen glanced around, making sure there were no humans about. Then he took a deep breath and....

  Squa-ooosh!

  As a pinpoint of light, he flew over the pyramid and picked up Lucas's incoming trail again.

  “Ah-hah!” There, nearly parallel to the first, was a lighter trail, heading west. The puppy had covered his tracks going back. Gaelen would've smacked himself in the forehead if his hand had been material at that moment. He should have considered the possibility Lucas had turned around and flown home right away. The trail was clear enough once he looked for it.