by Brandon Witt
Within sparse minutes, the owl was buried in the ground and covered by my bedding.
The creature was at last safe, as safe as I was able to provide, and while a sense of peace fell over me with the deed accomplished, sleep would not come.
Nor would the dread dissipate.
Seven
Xenith was beautiful, even from a distance. Stirred by the movement of his wings, a whirlwind of rust-colored leaves rose up around him as he lighted upon the ground. He looked every inch the prince he was. Clad in only a nearly sheer golden tunic, his skin glowed. He was timeless. The only thing separating him from the human gods of ancient Greece and Rome were his massive luna wings.
I stepped from my hiding place, even more desperate to speak to him than usual.
He saw me instantly. Though he smiled, he lifted a hand and motioned me away.
Moving back into the foliage of the old cedar, I searched the sky for anyone else who might be with him, ruining our planned meeting.
I saw no one.
Minutes ticked by, and no one joined Xenith, but still he waited, slowly pacing in a large circle.
A quarter of an hour passed before the reason for his hesitation became clear. Even as I watched, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
A blond servant girl, one of the humans, emerged from the other side of the clearing. Even from my secluded distance, I could see the state she was in. Damp hair clung to her forehead and cheeks. The hem of her skirt was muddied and ripped. We were miles from the royal boundaries. It was a long walk for me, but even without my wings, it required no effort. Moving through the forest was like breathing. Fairies were as much a part of nature as the deer in the forest and birds of the sky. We were kin. Not so for humans.
The girl approached Xenith, paused and offered a slight bow, then extended a silver pouch.
Xenith stretched out his hand, opening his palm to her, waiting for her to drop the parcel.
She did so, then hesitated.
“Leave now.” Xenith’s voice held irritation in a tone I’d not heard from him before.
With another bow, the servant turned and trudged clumsily back into the forest.
I waited long past when she was out of view. Even ignoring Xenith when he motioned me from my hiding place. He’d never brought anyone with him before, servant or otherwise. As certain as I was both of us would hear her if she returned, I couldn’t force myself to take the risk.
After motioning once more, Xenith closed the distance between, cocking his head as he peered quizzically at me. “She’s gone. Come out. What are you doing?”
“What am I doing? What am I doing?”
He flinched, hurt flashing across his face.
His expression was so innocent, so much like when he was child. The memory only served to make me angry. I stepped out of my hiding place, my caution forgotten. “What are you doing, Xenith? Why did you bring someone with you?”
He held out the silver pouch to me, a bright smile across his lips. “It’s for you.”
Bewildered I took the pouch, then carefully pulled on the drawstrings. A sting of fear shot through me a moment before I titled the bag to empty the contents. I pushed the sensation away. Whatever was going on, Xenith had nothing to do with it. There was no evil in him.
He noticed my hesitation. “Go on.”
I lifted the pouch the rest of the way. A small pile of gemlike stones spilled into my hands. I looked up at him, more confused than ever.
“Jewelberries.” His grin broadened. “From last night’s New Moon celebration. They’re your favorite. Remember when you used to bring them to me when I was too young to attend?”
“I know what they are, Xenith, but why are they here?”
He flinched again at my tone. “You haven’t had them in years. I took some with me last night. I thought you’d enjoy them.”
I gaped at him in amazement. He couldn’t be serious. I gestured back to the forest behind him. “And why did she bring them here?” I lifted the small bag between us, unable to keep the disdain from my words. “Was the bag too heavy for you to hold when you flew?”
Xenith’s chin lifted, the princely air erasing all traces of the little brother he used to be. “She is a servant. This is what she is for.”
It was my turn to flinch. “I am a servant, Xenith. Is that all I am for?”
“You are a fairy. She’s a human.” His gaze lowered to mine. “You’re my brother.”
“You know as well as I that I am lower than she. Lower than any fairy or human alive.”
His princely air vanished, and once more I saw the child I loved through the handsome face of the man. “Not to me.”
I stared at him, my anger beginning to soften. For the billionth time, I nearly told him the entire tale. Still, I could not. If Xenith knew it all, I would never see that glimpse of innocence again. “When you interact with the servants, both the human and fairy, remember me. Treat them as you would treat me.”
Xenith looked away, a flush of shame rising to his cheeks. I nearly stopped then, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t hurt him with the truth, but neither could I have him take such a risk again. “And beyond that, what if someone noticed? What if we are discovered? All for the price of jewelberries?”
“Quay, I’m the prince. No one will follow me or spy upon me.”
Involuntarily I lifted my hand, cupping his cheek. How I loved him. “I am not certain that is so. I actually have a worrisome issue to discuss with you.”
His shoulders straightened, and he puffed out his chest, an unconscious exhibit of both his strength and pride. “Has someone threatened you?”
“No, nothing like that, brother. I’ve been thinking of the deer we healed the other day.”
“Oh.” He let out his breath, his posture returning to a more relaxed stance. “Is that all?”
“There was a detail I didn’t show you that day.”
“Aren’t you going to eat them?”
“What?”
He motioned toward my hand. “The jewelberries. I brought them for you.”
I glanced down at the crystalline fruit. I’d forgotten about them. “Technically, it was not you who brought them.”
He rolled his eyes but managed to look somewhat abashed nonetheless. “Come on. Eat one.”
I let out a sigh and looked back at the berries. From high above, a cloud drifted, allowing the sun to break through and glisten against the jewel tones in my hand. It had been so long. The emerald ones had always been my favorite, tasting of mint and cocoa. My fingers hesitated over it, then picked up the amber one instead. It reminded me of Flesser’s beautiful eyes. I lifted it, causing it to twist and refract the sunlight in a prism-like rainbow. Gingerly I placed it on my tongue, then closed my mouth. Despite myself, I groaned, shutting my eyes to savor the taste. The flavor was all spice—cinnamon and clove, rich and pungent.
Xenith’s laugh broke the spell, bringing me back to the present. “See, aren’t you glad I brought them?” He reached out and plucked one out of my hands, then popped it into his mouth. “I like the clear ones.” He let out a long, nearly orgasmic groan, mocking me.
“Be still.” I laughed as he waggled his eyebrows at me.
“Would you like me to give you a few minutes alone so you can enjoy the rest in private?”
“You are ridiculous.”
He shrugged. “Yes. Probably.” He took another one, the green one this time. “So what is it that has gotten you so worked up?”
All lightness fell away at his words. In the bliss of the jewelberries, I’d forgotten my fear. My dread of something coming. I’d allowed myself to get lost in the illusion we were brothers.
I shoved the sentiment aside. “I didn’t want to worry you the other day, but it wasn’t a human hunter’s arrow that wounded the deer. It was a fairy weapon.”
He took a step back, sobering, inspecting me as if uncertain of my sanity. “You were mistaken.”
I shook my head. “No. There was no
mistaking. The weapon was fairy made.”
“That can’t be.” Xenith looked away, gazing out into the darkness of the trees. I allowed him time to process the unthinkable. Suddenly he turned back to me. “Just because it was one of our arrows doesn’t mean it was wielded by one of us.”
“Who then?”
“I don’t know… maybe it got into the wrong hands… maybe… maybe one of the servants. One of the human servants.”
The thought had crossed my mind as well, but I couldn’t make sense of it. “To what end?”
His gaze darted back and forth as he searched for an explanation. “Perhaps… oh, how should I know? They’re human. They might do— Wait, humans eat meat, right? Maybe one them was craving living flesh or something.”
“Xenith, they’ve been part of us since they were infants. They’ve never had meat. They would have no craving. They wouldn’t even have knowledge of what their kind ate.”
“Well, then, who? It makes no more sense for one of us to hunt an animal?”
I was relieved he was taking the issue so seriously. Part of me had worried he would brush it off as trivial, as he did so many things since his rebirth. Guilt washed over me at the thought now he was in front me. Despite his growing entitlement, Xenith had always been a tender soul, and like any of us, would be repulsed at the notion of harming another living creature for food or sport. “There’s more, actually, Xenith. It’s why I decided to tell you. Since it is no longer just one incident, I cannot pass it off as chance, accident, or happenstance.”
I told him about the owl. His revulsion nearly matched my own. He even glanced at my ruined wings as I spoke of the owl’s feathers. The fact that he hadn’t missed why it would affect me so only made me love him more. If such a thing were possible.
“It makes no sense, Quay.” Xenith continued to pace in the same circle he’d begun during the telling of the past several days’ events. “I cannot believe any fairy would do such evil.”
I nearly told him about our mother once more. Nearly told him about the few times I’d been used cruelly by select others since my downfall. Even having experienced those events myself, I found it hard to believe one of our kind would commit these atrocities to innocent creatures. Unable to completely stop myself, I motioned over my shoulder.
He stopped pacing, and his gaze followed, pain flooding his expression as he looked at the protrusions from my back. “Ever since I was little, I wanted to ask about what really happened that night. I’ve nearly asked a thousand times, but I’ve never been able to…”
I waited for him to ask now. To finish his thought. Part of me longed to tell him everything. Empty my soul and pain before him.
Even so, I was relieved when he didn’t.
“I wouldn’t have told you, even if you’d asked, Xenith.” I thought that was still true, but I wasn’t as certain as I used to be.
We stared at each other uncomfortably. The distance between us growing further, leaving me cold.
“I want you to speak to the queen about it. I’m not certain what is going on, but there is danger. I can feel it.”
His dark eyes widened. “No. I won’t. I’m not risking losing you. I’m not going to tell her that we see each other.”
Fear greater than anything I’d experienced lately washed over me. “No. I’m not saying that. You cannot let her know that we speak. Tell her a lie. Tell her you discovered them.”
“How would I explain that? That I saw a deer days ago and didn’t mention it until I stumbled upon an owl?”
“Tell her you found them together. That you found them today. The servant would be able to attest to your whereabouts. Not that she’d need to.”
Xenith continued to inspect me as he considered. “Okay, let’s say I do. How do I explain that I have no proof. I wouldn’t have just left the owl if I really thought there was danger she needed to know about.”
He was right, of course. How could I not have considered that? Even so, the answer hit me. As it did, I nearly staggered at the thought. “You’ll tell her that you healed the deer, letting him go. We can go back and get the arrow, I hid it nearby.”
“That doesn’t explain the owl.”
“I’ll retrieve it. Dig it up. It will be obviously many days old, but you can say you found it that way. Say after you healed the deer, you used your power to search for other wounded animals, and that the Goddess led you to the owl.”
He nodded slowly, considering. “Alright. That makes as much sense as anything else I can think of.” Xenith met my gaze, his expression growing even more serious. “We don’t have to risk this right now. We can wait. If it happens again, I can handle it then.”
How tempting his words were. “No. I know there is imminent danger, though I can’t say from where. I feel it around me. There is something coming. The queen needs to know. Perhaps she can protect our people from whatever it is, or whoever is engaged in this sickness.”
Xenith let out his breath in resignation. “Fine. Tell me where you hid the arrow. I will get it while you retrieve the owl’s body.”
My stomach plummeted further as I took in one final realization. I’d not been able to force myself to tell Xenith about giving the owl back its dignity. Nor could I. Before I handed the tiny creature over to my brother, I would have to remove its feathers once more. It took all my will to keep from vomiting at the thought.
Eight
“So you’re saying what exactly? That there’s a fairy out there getting ready to go on a killing spree?”
I pushed aside the bristle I felt at the condescension in Flesser’s tone. “I don’t know what it means. I just feel like something bad is coming. Ever since we found the deer, I can’t shake this dread that’s crawling through me.”
He leaned near, close enough I felt his breath on my cheek. “Who’s we? Is there someone else you’re falling for?”
My heart leaped into my throat, panic catching my breath. I’d just slipped and said “we.” And pathetically, the implication that we were falling for each other did just as much to take me off guard. “Of course not. I meant me. I guess I was just thinking about the deer and I together.” I doubted I could have come up with a less believable response had I been given a month to consider. “And are we falling for each other?”
Flesser opened his mouth to speak but then grimaced. “I think you’re distracted.” He motioned toward my face.
I’d let my real appearance slip through the illusion. Refocusing, I became who he wished me to be once again. “Sorry.”
His smile returned, the one that nearly made his below-average appearance look attractive. Reaching between us, he wrapped his fingers around my flaccid penis. “You are falling in love with me. Unless I’m mistaken?”
If I hadn’t been desperate to steer the conversation away from my blunder, I probably wouldn’t have admitted my feelings. Although, perchance I would have, considering Flesser had continued to consume my thoughts, regardless of my worry. “I am. Though I know I shouldn’t.”
His smile grew as he began to stroke me. Despite having been inside him less than a quarter hour before, I began to harden. “Why shouldn’t you, Quay?”
By the Goddess, hearing him speak my true name actually drowned out some of my fears. “I know it is not love for me you feel, Flesser.”
His lips pressed tenderly on mine. After a moment, he pulled away, but only a hair’s breadth. “Then why do I come to you? Why do I seek you out after all this time, if this isn’t love?”
I didn’t answer. Even if the reason was due to the unwillingness of other fairies to accept him, speaking such would only harm him. Instead I lifted my hand to his chest, smoothing it over the flat plane of slim muscle.
“If there is some evil coming our way, I will not abandon you to it. I will not forget you.” His words surprised me, and even with the teasing hint in his voice, they filled my senses. Any thoughts of a future with him were illusion, as much as the face he chose to see, but even so, it was a con
sideration. After the changing, I’d known I was destined to be alone always. No matter how long this… this… whatever it was Flesser and I had, it was so much more than I’d dared hope for.
“I just wanted to tell you, Flesser. I wanted to warn you. I don’t want you to be caught unaware. Those of us on the outskirts are probably the most at risk. At least right now.” As soon as the words left my lips, I realized what I’d implied.
Flesser flinched backward, removing both his chest from my touch and his hand from my sex. “I don’t know to what you are referring.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that we were the same, you and I. I know you’re vastly far above me.” Even through my panic that I’d just condemned what little joy and pleasure I experienced, I hated the weak whine in my words.
His expression twisted into a grimace.
I knew the illusion had faded once more, but I couldn’t find the power to bring it back. “I just want you to be safe.”
Flesser rose and stood above me, his wings trembling behind him. “I can assure you, I am safe. Nor do I need your protection from imaginary villains.”
“Flesser, I’m sorry. Truly, I meant no offense.” I moved, readying to stand, but a wave of his hand cut me off.
“Nor do I have need of your body any longer.”
Nine
I waited, hidden deep among the pines. Dawn would arrive shortly. Surely Xenith wouldn’t be foolish enough to send a servant again. I waved the thought away. He would not. Though Flesser had dismissed my fears, Xenith seemed to take some stock in them. Of course, to be fair, he had helped me heal the wounded deer and then seen the state of the owl. Flesser had not had the advantage of seeing proof.
The past several days had aged me. I felt weak and broken. A strange sensation, considering my fate. I’d not been aware it was possible for me to become more damaged. Having to strip the poor creature’s wings made my past so fresh, so real once more. Such emotions only heightened my certainty that there was danger to more than just forest animals. Not that they did not deserve our full attention and protection as well, but I felt it. I knew, though I had no inkling how, that it would soon be fairies mangled in the trees and shot through the heart with weapons.