by Sean Cullen
Failing the Challenges would be bad. Aside from the fact that he might actually die at the hands of the judges, the consequences of failure if he survived weren’t much better: Exile. An Exile from the Faerie community was completely alone. Brendan would have to live in the Human world knowing all that was closed off to him. He’d only just begun to explore the many gifts his Faerie heritage offered him. Though he’d been confused at first, as his senses expanded, heightened, and changed, he realized that living without his Faerie abilities would be a bleak existence. Watching his family and friends age and die while he hung on, frozen while the world changed around him, filled him with dread.
Also, he was now just beginning to understand what was at stake for the whole world, Humans and Faeries both. The world wouldn’t survive if Humans continued to poison it and Faeries remained aloof. He’d begun to see a place for himself in the battle ahead to change the future. He didn’t want to lose that opportunity.
Finally, he had grown to love his Faerie family: Uncle Og, Auntie Deirdre, and Uncle Greenleaf. They were all a bit mad, but he’d miss them if he were Exiled. They really were his family now.
And Kim, Brendan thought. She’s been there the whole way, even before I knew who I really was. She’s more than a friend … He let that thought hang, afraid to examine his feelings for her more closely.
After a lunch eaten alone in the cafeteria, he went to the washroom. He was hoping for a moment of peace away from all the other students. With a sigh of relief, he found the boys’ room empty.
He’d forgotten that BLT was in his jacket pocket, so when she suddenly spoke, he jumped about ten feet.
“What are you so mopey about?” she said, crawling out of Brendan’s pocket as he splashed water on his face at the sink.
“Do you mind?” Brendan asked. “This is the boys’ restroom.”
“Relax, pal,” she said. “What’s the big deal?”
“Well,” Brendan said, at a loss. “It’s just not cool.”53
“What’s the problem now? Your face is so long you might step on it.”
“I’m just worried about … well, everything, and I think I have a right to be.”
“You’ve gotta get your head in the game, boyo!” BLT flew out of his pocket and up onto his shoulder. “If you go into the Proving this worried then you’re halfway to failing already. Look in the mirror.”
Brendan raised his head and looked at his face. A year ago, he would have seen a pimply, gawky kid with braces. But now the face looking back at him was hardly recognizable. He willed his glamour to drop and saw how much he’d changed. His hair had been a dirty blond before but now was a deeper, more lustrous gold. His eyes sparkled deep green with flecks of amber. His face was leaner and the bones more refined, and there wasn’t a pimple in sight.
Sure, he’d changed on the outside, but the changes on the inside were much more profound. He had learned more about his heart and his soul in the last few weeks than he’d ever thought possible.
“Do I have the strength to pass these tests? Am I good enough, B?”
BLT tugged on his ear. “Never doubt it, Brendan. Never doubt it.”
“Who are you talking to?” said a voice behind Brendan.
BLT dove into Brendan’s pocket to avoid detection. Brendan whirled, raising his glamour. He found a senior student standing on the bathroom tiles with a confused look on his face. He must have been in one of the stalls when Brendan had come into the bathroom. Brendan cursed himself silently for not being more careful. “Huh?” he stammered. “Uh, nobody! I was talking to myself.”
“Yourself?” The older boy frowned. “What are you doing that for?”
“A play!” Brendan said quickly. “Auditioning for a play for next semester.” Boy, that excuse is getting worn out!
“Yeah? Well, rehearsing in the men’s room is a little weird, dude. Why don’t you … ?”
The boy didn’t finish his suggestion. He stopped speaking and just stood, staring, his eyes slightly out of focus. He had a dreamy, peaceful expression as though he were trapped in the middle of a daydream.
“Hey,” Brendan said. Then louder, “Hey!” He waved his hand in front of the boy’s face but he didn’t react.
“What’s the matter?” Brendan asked. “Are you okay?”
“This is a Faerie glamour,” BLT said, climbing out of Brendan’s pocket. “It’s a powerful one, too. Can’t you sense it?”
Brendan closed his eyes and concentrated. He did sense it, a tingle of energy or ambient power like a charge of static electricity hanging in the air.
“You’re right,” Brendan said softly. He opened his eyes. The boy was still staring dreamily into space. Brendan felt confident the boy wasn’t in any danger of hurting himself, but just to be sure, he took him by the arm and gently forced him to sit on the tile floor with his back to the wall. Satisfied, Brendan left the bathroom.
The hall was full of people in the same state of bemusement. Students and teachers shared the same vacant gaze, their eyes slightly unfocused as if they were straining to see a speck of dust on the tips of their noses. Brendan made his way up the hall, weaving through them as he sought out the source of the glamour. He could feel a current of energy in the air that led him on as though he were a piece of iron seeking a magnet. As he walked down the hall, he passed Chester Dallaire outside the library doors. The large boy stood, eyes half closed. Brendan glanced at Chester’s face as he walked by, wondering who had caused this mass dream state.
The current led him down the main hall and into the principal’s office. At the front desk, Miss Conacher, the secretary, sat looking blankly at her pen while a female student stood in dreamy silence holding a doctor’s note limply in her hand. Brendan walked past them and into the open door of Ms. Abernathy’s office.
The vice-principal sat behind her desk. Her mouth hung open. She was staring into space, her glasses slightly askew, but otherwise seemed unharmed. She wasn’t alone in the room. Standing at the window with his back to Brendan was a tall, slight Faerie in a finely tailored, shimmering blue suit. His chestnut hair hung loose over his shoulders.
“Ah,” the Faerie said musically, without taking his eyes off the vice-principal. “You are here. How lovely.”
“What’s going on?” Brendan demanded. “Who are you? What have you done to them?”
The Faerie turned lazily around to face Brendan.
Tall and lean, he radiated power, setting Brendan’s nerves jangling. It was like standing next to a massive electrical transformer. The Faerie’s face was beautiful, but there was a cruel twist to his smile as he gazed at Brendan with coldly amused brown eyes.
“You’re … ”
“Lord Pûkh.” The Faerie smiled, bowing deeply. “At your service, Brendan Morn.” Without waiting for Brendan to respond, Pûkh spread his arms and did a little spin. “What do you think? It’s an Armani. The fabric and workmanship are not quite up to my usual standard but the Humans have certainly made strides.”
“What have you done to them?” Brendan demanded again. He felt ridiculous and powerless next to Pûkh, but he tried to keep the fear from his voice.
“Don’t worry.” Pûkh waved dismissively. “They are quite safe. Their senses are fogged with glamours. For them, the moment is frozen. They will remember nothing. They’ll wake up quite refreshed, in fact. Your concern for them is touching, though. Like a child caring for his pets.”
“They aren’t pets,” Brendan said angrily. “They’re people.”
“Well, I’d disagree with you there, I’m afraid. They make a mess everywhere they go. They are ignorant of the true nature of the world, like animals. And I must say, they have a very unpleasant stink. I’m sure you’re used to it by now, having lived among them for so long.”
“They are cute,” a childish voice lisped. Brendan whirled to see the tiny female Faerie who had ridden at Pûkh’s side the night before stroking the hair of the secretary, Miss Conacher. “So fragile.” The stroking han
d sprouted long, razor-sharp claws and she drew their tips along the secretary’s vulnerable throat.
“Stay away from her.” Brendan took a step to intervene, but suddenly his wrist was clamped in a powerful grip. He turned to find that it was the tall, silver-haired Faerie he’d seen at the head of the Wild Hunt the night before.
This guy was fast. Brendan hadn’t even sensed his approach. He was just there, looming over Brendan with his silver head brushing the ceiling. Brendan looked up into the cold grey eyes and saw no spark of Human emotion. He’s a Warp Warrior, Brendan thought with some dread.
“Don’t touch me,” Brendan said evenly, grateful that his voice didn’t crack.
“Lugh! Mâya!” Pûkh’s voice intervened. “Don’t be rude. These are Brendan’s people, though why he should consort with People of Metal when he is a Prince of the Fair Folk is quite beyond my understanding.”
Brendan ignored the comments, though inside he seethed with anger at the insult to his friends and family. “Why are you here?”
The Faerie sauntered around the desk toward Brendan. “Why, to see you, of course. You are the talk of the Faerie world, young Brendan. Everyone wants to know about you. Even I, in the Hidden Kingdom of Tír na nÓg, have heard of you. The Faerie who prefers the People of Metal to his own Folk.”
“You shouldn’t be here. My Human friends and family are off limits.”
Pûkh’s eyes darkened. For an instant, Brendan saw something reptilian stir behind the beautiful mask of his face. Just as quickly, Pûkh composed himself, and the darkness passed. “You really can’t expect to tell me what to do, Brendan. I am quite simply beyond your ability to command. But you needn’t be so angry.” The Ancient Faerie smiled and chucked him under the chin as if he were a little child. “I merely wished to see what you found so attractive in this Human world. Frankly, I understand how a sentimental attachment might develop, but look at these creatures.” He threw out an arm to encompass the school. “You aren’t like them. As I said, I don’t know how you can bear the smell.” Pûkh laughed lightly.
Brendan clenched his fists in rage. Pûkh was one of the most stunning people he’d ever seen. His presence inspired awe. When he’d first entered the room, Brendan had been tempted to fall to his knees like a supplicant. Yes, Pûkh was beautiful, but his words sickened Brendan.
“I’ll say this again because you didn’t seem to hear me the first time: they aren’t pets. They are people. My people.”
Pûkh laughed again. “Then why am I here? I have come to judge you at your Proving. I thought this meant you wanted to be a member of your true family and a part of the Faerie world. Am I wrong?”
Brendan didn’t know what to say. Pûkh was right. The Ancient Faerie smirked, seeing he’d scored a hit. Pûkh opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the arrival of Greenleaf and Kim.
They barged into the outer office ready for a confrontation. Lugh and Mâya instinctively interposed themselves between the new arrivals and Pûkh.
“Leave Brendan alone,” Kim snarled, her stick levelled.
“This is an outrage,” Greenleaf spat. Brendan had never seen his teacher show such strong emotion. He looked ready for physical violence, his grey eyes alight with fury. “Release these people immediately.”
“No need for hysterics,” Pûkh tutted, leaning back against the desk and crossing his arms. “They aren’t in any discomfort.”
“You know this is not permitted, interfering with Humans in any way. Even you in your isolated little princedom are aware of the Pact and the rules we must follow if we are to survive.”
“I was there when the Pact was struck, lest you forget, Greenleaf. We fought on different sides on that day, but I hope you’ll let those old grudges rest. Just as you and your sister have set aside your differences.”
Greenleaf didn’t answer. With a barely perceptible nod from Pûkh, Lugh and Mâya stepped aside, allowing Greenleaf and Kim to join Brendan.
Kim turned to Brendan. “Are you all right?” Her face was full of concern. Brendan was reminded of the kiss last night and blushed.
“I’m fine. We were just talking.”
“Good.”
“Disperse this glamour immediately and get away from here,” Greenleaf demanded.
Pûkh stood up to his full height and his head seemed to brush the ceiling. Underlying the exquisite face was dire threat. The temperature in the room dropped as if a window had been opened onto the frigid winter. “You have no power to tell me where to go or what to do,” he said, his voice heavy with menace. Brendan took an involuntary step back, disgusted by his own cowardice.
Pûkh seemed to sense he’d tipped his hand a little too much. The darkness faded from his face and the atmosphere lightened. In the blink of an eye, the cheerful smile returned to his perfect mouth. “Let’s not fight, my friends. I beg your indulgence. I am not accustomed to the Human world and perhaps I overstepped my bounds. This Clan Gathering is a happy occasion. Let’s not spoil it with recriminations, hmmm?”
Pûkh casually stepped between Kim and Greenleaf and walked out of Ms. Abernathy’s office. “Come along.” He gestured and his mismatched companions fell in behind him. Mâya brushed past Kim and sneered. Kim returned the sneer with interest. Kim and Greenleaf followed the trio warily with Brendan bringing up the rear.
Out in the main hall, Pûkh paused and looked about him at the students standing looking blankly into space. He shook his head. “So this is where the People of Metal teach their children? A school they call it. How can they have such places and still remain so ignorant of the world all around them? They know enough to destroy the Earth but not to sustain her.” He sighed theatrically and strolled toward the doors at the end of the hall.
Brendan looked around at the people in the hall and felt something nagging at the edge of his perception. Something was different. He scanned the hallway but couldn’t figure it out.
Pûkh reached the doors and turned. He smiled at them and sketched a bow. “Lovely to see where you spend your days, Brendan. Most enlightening, if not inspiring. I shall see you all later at the Gathering. I look forward to judging your Proving.” Opening the door, he let Lugh and Mâya pass through. Then, he casually spoke a word Brendan didn’t understand and passed an open hand before his eyes as if waving away a fly.
Immediately, everyone began to move and talk, picking up conversations in mid-sentence. The entire school came to life without any awareness that they’d been standing in a daze for the past quarter hour. Brendan stood dumbfounded as the students went about their business, girls in giggling groups, boys trying as always to look as cool as
possible and failing, all of them completely unaware that their lives had been interrupted.
“No sporting equipment in the halls.” Ms. Abernathy’s brittle voice jarred Brendan out of his thoughts. The viceprincipal stood in the doorway of her office, hands on hips. “I have warned you before. Don’t think because it’s the last day of school before the holidays I won’t keep you for detention tonight.”
Kim lowered her stick. “Yes, Ms. Abernathy. I’m sorry.”
Ms. Abernathy nodded curtly and retreated to her office.
“That guy, Pûkh,” Brendan said, “he’s a piece of work.”
“He’s always been what we call a Rogue Spirit,” Greenleaf said mildly.
“He’s what I would call a psychopath,” Brendan remarked.
Kim stuffed her stick into her backpack with practised ease. “He has no respect for authority.”
“In Tír na nÓg, he is the authority. He answers to no one,” Greenleaf explained, his eyes on the door where Pûkh had disappeared.
Brendan suddenly didn’t want to be in school or anywhere near other people. “I’m going home.”
“They won’t be back, Brendan.” Kim looked concerned.
“I’m not worried about that,” Brendan said.
“You’ll miss the Christmas assembly,” Greenleaf pointed out.
“Well, mu
ch as I’d like to hear some Christmas carols sung by the Robertson Davies Academy Glee Club,” Brendan announced, “I think I may just go home early.”
“I’ll tell Ms. Abernathy you were feeling a little under the weather,” Mr. Greenleaf offered.
“You won’t be lying,” Brendan said with a pained expression. “See you tonight.”
Brendan headed for the door. Passing the library, he suddenly realized what had been bothering him.
What happened to Chester? He was standing right there when I went into the office, but he wasn’t there when I came out. That’s weird.
He shrugged and pushed his way through the doors and into the cold. Just one more thing that I can’t explain or do anything about.
He headed for home.
51 On a side note, I wonder why UFOs always appear to people of doubtful credibility—drunk men, the insane, hillbillies, etc. If aliens really wanted to abduct humans and experiment on them, why wouldn’t they abduct articulate people who might elucidate them on the finer points of humanity? Why not abduct authors, scientists, or (yes, it must be said, though I disdain the limelight) narrators like myself? I would like nothing more than to be abducted by interstellar travellers and spend some idle hours shooting the breeze with them telepathically. Let this be your invitation, Starpeople! I will be waiting in an empty field just outside of Poughkeepsie, New York, after 7 P.M. each Wednesday.
52 Though such advice seems obvious, thousands of children are stuck to cold metal pipes by their tongues each year. Please give generously to “Don’t Lick It, Kids!,” a non-profit organization that I have founded.
53 I have to say, I sympathize with Brendan on this point. The washroom is not a place for chatting. One should be allowed to evacuate one’s bladder in peace without any casual conversation or distractions.
NEMESIS
Harold and Dmitri had decided to take the day off. They were both exhausted by their vigil over the past few nights. In the end, Harold had just crashed on a futon in Dmitri’s room. He’d already called his parents and told them that he’d be spending the night. Delia had gone home but made them promise they would meet at noon to confront the person Harold believed was the nemesis.