by Candace Sams
Blain watched her stoically walk away. There was no doubt in his mind that Shayla Gallagher believed every word she was saying. A cold chill crept over him. As a young boy, his parents had told him to never answer questions about where they had last lived, and the three of them had moved often. To a lonely little boy, the traveling and the subterfuge was a bit frightening. His schooling came from his parents or correspondence courses, and most social events were avoided. He'd grown up accepting their secretive behavior as normal, and it wasn't until he was much older that he knew their lives were very different from other people's lives. That was when he began to ask his parents questions which were never answered.
He ran his hands through his hair. "Crazy. Shayla's story is impossible and crazy."
No matter what his parents' reasons had been for their secrecy, he wasn't about to let himself fall for the trash he'd just heard. His hands automatically clenched, and he felt one of them close around the small pouch Shayla had given him. Picking up his flute, he went inside the house and up to his room. He switched on the beside lamp, opened the pouch and emptied the contents into his palm. An emerald-cut amethyst fell into his hand. It was about three inches square and beautifully clear. Such a large semi-precious stone had to be worth a great deal of money. The long cord on the pouch indicated it was probably meant to be worn around his neck.
Had Afton really given it to Shayla, or had Shayla made that up, too? If Afton was a part of this, then she was as batty as the old woman, and he didn't want to believe that. Though her habits were odd, Afton herself was too real and earnest to fall for anything so ridiculous. Fames? Druids? Bull shit. Blain wondered if this was the terrible event he'd been fearing? Or was there more to come?
He angrily pulled off his clothes, took a hot shower and went to bed. But he didn't sleep. In the starlight filtering through the room, he could see the small stone on his bedside table. With each moment that passed, he knew he had to get Shayla out of his home and his life. The worst part was, when she left, Afton would go, too. After Friday night's party, he'd ask them to leave. It would hurt Hugh, but it would hurt him worse. He had come to treasure Afton's and Shayla's presence. For a short time, it had been like having a family again.
***
The next morning, Blain waited until breakfast was over. When Shayla and Hugh moved into the room which served as Blain's office, Blain confronted Afton. "May I talk to you outside for a few minutes?"
"Of course."
Afton hung up the towel she'd been using to dry the dishes. She wondered what Blain wanted to say to her after days of maintaining a mutual distance. She followed him into the garden. Once there, she watched him pace for a few moments.
He seemed to be carefully considering what he was about to say. Something was definitely bothering him. He paced, clenched his fists, and shook his head as though something he wanted to say wasn't acceptable.
Blain reached inside his pocket. "Afton, did you give this to Shayla to give to me?"
"Yes. People back home carry them around for good luck and protection," she explained when she saw the pouch containing the amethyst fairy stone.
"And that's all it was meant to be? A gift for luck?" Blain asked.
"Yes." Afton watched his expression turn to relief when she answered. She paused for a moment, not sure how to continue. "But its powers are only focused with the light from the moon."
She quickly watched the relief on his face turn to concern again as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "Do you know what Shayla told me last night?"
She glanced down at her clasped hands. "Yes, she mentioned it."
"Please tell me you don't believe all that crap. That you're only humoring Shayla's delusions."
She took a deep breath. None of this was going to go down easy for Blain. How could it? "What exactly did she say?"
"Nothing much, except that I'm supposed to be half fairy and half Druid," he drawled sarcastically. "She also told me my parents had to run from some crazy woman bent on killing them." As he waited for her response, he watched her tuck a long strand of sun-streaked hair behind one ear and turn her back to him.
"What...what do you want me to say, Blain?"
"I want you to tell me what's wrong with Shayla and that you're not buying into this fantasy world she's created for herself. It's not healthy."
"I'm sorry, but everything Shayla told you is true. Hugh brought us here to bring you back into the Order and explain your heritage to you." She turned to face him.
"For the love of Mike!" Blain tilted his head back and closed his eyes. "Hugh is part of this too?" He sat heavily upon a nearby rock. His entire body sagged.
Afton could only guess how Blain was feeling. To an outsider, which is how he'd been raised, she knew how fantastic it all seemed. But for his sake, the more he knew the less apt he was to lose control when Shayla turned on her powers during the Solstice ceremony.
"Blain, please listen to me," she said as she knelt before him and took his hands into hers. "Try to keep an open mind. Your mother was a fairy. She loved gardens and designed yours because I think she must have missed being with her own kind. It reminded her of home."
Blain looked at her. "Do you know how absolutely crazy this sounds? I'm no psychiatrist, but this is sick. Really sick!"
"What if I could prove that what I'm saying is true? Would you listen to Shayla and do what she tells you?"
"I'd sooner believe in little green men from Mars and UFO abductions."
"That's absurd!" Afton glared at him, hurt by his sarcasm
"I'm being absurd?" His eyebrows rose at the irony.
"Listen to me for a moment People occasionally see fairies, and they attribute what they see to too much alcohol, being too tired or the very same UFOs you mentioned. The absolute unbelievable nature of what and who we are is what has protected us for the last few centuries People would rather believe they've had too much ale at the local pub than believe they stumbled upon a traveling fairy bathing in a woodland pond. Or they explain away trolls, nymphs, gnomes and others of us as night noises of no consequence."
"And who the hell is us, Afton? What do you think you are?" He glared at her and his heart began to beat harder. He'd come to care so much for her. That she was as mentally unstable as her employer left him feeling as though he'd fallen into a dark hole. And their delusions were making his own mental state that much nearer to collapse.
Afton took a deep breath then finally told him what she had wanted him to know all along. "I'm Druid. We have the limited abilities to control the elements of earth, fire, water and air."
Blain sat completely still. He stood up and pulled Afton with him. "This has gone far enough. It's not sane. You have to stop this. I won't listen to it."
"Blain, you're fighting what, deep inside, you know is true. You have fairy blood in your veins as well as Druid blood. No other creature on earth could create music the way you do. No one could be so in tune with the earth but someone with Druid blood such as yours. If you stop fighting it, your own powers may come to you, and you'll know what I'm saying is true."
"My own powers? Afton, there are no such things as fairies. My mother was bigger than you are. She wasn't some little, flower-hopping creature. Can't you hear how crazy you sound?"
"The idea that fairies are tiny creatures is idiotic. That's a stereotype created by your world. Perhaps someone, at one time or another, mistook one of the smaller sprites or pixies for a fairy. But real fairies exist, and they have the power to change from human to true fairy form. And they're as large as any normal human. Some are as large as you."
"For the love of...you're saying I have the power to become one of those... things? "
"We don't know what your powers are yet. You're the first child of a blend we've ever encountered."
"All right. For the sake of argument, I'll humor you for a moment. I can't think why I'm having this conversation, but let's just assume what you're saying is true." He paused and took a
deep breath. "Aren't there stories of fairies enchanting mortal men and women? If those stories are true, why wouldn't there be other 'blends', as you call them, besides me?"
"In centuries past, there were stories of such things happening, but the stories always ended with either the fairy or the mortal disappearing or dying somehow. There's only one fairy, other than you, who can claim to have human blood in his veins. But that blood is centuries old, and if you mention it, he's likely to take your head off. Any humanity he may have had in him has long since been bred away. Now that Shayla is Sorceress—the leader of our Order—she allows different factions to keep company with each other and even handfast, or marry, if they want to. As yet, all of us have kept to our own kind. No one has availed themselves of the opportunity to interbreed with other factions, though they dally with each other on occasion."
"Ah, so this mythical Order has its own brand of racism?" When Afton bowed her head as if she was ashamed, Blain asked, "And who is this half-cast, mixed-blooded fairy with the human in his woodpile and the chip on his shoulder?"
"His name is Lore, and you will meet him if you agree to come back and establish yourself into the Order. To date, you're the only true, modern-day blend in existence."
"And if I don't want to have anything to do with this so-called Order?"
Afton didn't answer. He saw fear come into her eyes, and she tried to turn away. He grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at him, "Tell me."
"That's up to Shayla. If she knew I was even talking to you about this before Solstice.. "
Blain watched as she looked over her shoulder toward the house. He felt her begin to shake. Whatever else she believed, Afton was afraid of Shayla's wrath. The older woman had some kind of power over her.
"You're really scared, aren't you? Honey, you're trembling." Blain pulled her to him and held her close. Although he wanted the truth, he hadn't wanted to frighten her.
"Blain, please try to believe. Please try. I can prove it to you if only you'll let me." She wrapped her arms around him and buried her head against his chest.
"Okay. This is the most asinine thing I've ever let myself get talked into, but if you think you can prove your point, then fine."
"You're only trying to humor me. It's patronizing and I don't like it." She angrily pulled away from him.
"Afton, don't push it. I've had about all I can take. I'm willing to let you do whatever mumbo jumbo you have in mind on one condition."
"And what's that?" she asked as she watched him place his hands on his hips and stare at her.
"If whatever you do doesn't work, you take Shayla and leave this country the day after the party, and you don't come back. Agreed?"
"You...you don't want us here anymore?" Afton felt tears come into her eyes.
"I can't afford the emotional game-playing going on here, and I don't want Hugh exposed to it. He's all the family I have. It's clear he cares for Shayla, and he'll believe whatever she tells him, just like you do. Now, do you agree to the condition or not?"
"All right. I agree. Meet me in the woods behind the far pasture at midnight. But you have to make some excuse to stay away from the house. Shayla can sometimes sense when something isn't right, and you have no ability to block what she feels. Not yet anyway. It'll be hard enough for me to act as if we've never had this conversation."
"Fine. By Saturday, I want you both packed and on the first plane out of here."
Afton watched him march away. Clearly, he thought she would fail in her attempt to prove the Order existed. What if she did? Until now, her powers had been almost nonexistent. What if they failed tonight? Blain would expect them to leave, she would have to tell Shayla what she and Blain had discussed, and the Sorceress would be furious. She didn't even want to think about what Shayla would do to her.
She had to plan. There had to be something she could do to convince Blain to believe. If he behaved disrespectfully or sarcastically toward Shayla, she would be obliged to pass the most severe judgement. Blain would be cut off from the Order for all time and have to live as a regular human, or he would be destroyed if he attempted to ever call upon any powers he might discover he had. Whatever happened, Hugh would be expected to come back to the Order, and Blain would be left all alone.
At least she hadn't told him about someone trying to harm him by using black magic. That little bit of information probably would have gotten her thrown off the farm within the hour. She ran into the house, and upstairs to her room.
There had to be some way of making Blain believe. She had to think. There were powers available to her if she was strong enough to conjure them.
***
Blain told Hugh he was going into town for horse feed and wouldn't be back for supper that evening. While it was true that he needed to run the errand, he also needed time and space away from everyone for a while. Especially since he'd agreed to meet Afton later that evening.
He was outside the feed store, loading up the bed of his truck, when a short, stout figure approached. Her grey-brown hair stuck out from her round head like a thatch of thorns. Her dark gaze held only hatred, and her face was pinched with contempt. As usual, she was wearing one of her awful, dark dresses that made her look as if she was in perpetual mourning.
"Ohhhh, noooo! Old lady Biddies. That's all I need," he muttered. "Why the hell doesn't someone just shoot me?"
Like Reverend Myers, Hannah Biddies loved to make a scene. Though he wasn't the only one the old buzzard argued with, Blain's share of her contemptuous outbursts were always loudest. There must be something about his personality that attracted unstable people. He vowed to find that particular trait and thoroughly root it out. Or perhaps he was the craziest of all of them, and all this melodrama was his own particular plunge into mental illness.
"McTavish, I received this in the mail." She pulled a white envelope out of her purse. "I'll give you two guesses as to what I'd like to do with it!"
He sighed and tried not to picture her inserting the item into any orifice belonging to him. "And what's in the envelope, Mrs. Biddies?"
"It's an invitation to your party." She paused, and when he didn't respond, she said, "Where do you get off? Do you think you can make everything right by inviting me over for sandwiches, you little prick?"
Blain couldn't imagine why Hannah was on the guest list. He supposed that not inviting her would be interpreted as petty and grudging, especially since everyone else in town would probably be invited. But he certainly didn't have to stand here and take the woman's venomous assault.
"Look, if you don't want to come, then don't. It was a gesture of friendship. If you want to assign some ulterior motive to it, I'm sorry. It wasn't meant that way."
"Ulterior motive is just what it is, you little mongrel! I had plans for the property your father practically stole from that boozer husband of mine." She smirked and moved to within inches of him. "I'll be at your party. That bastard father of yours thought he could outmaneuver me, but he didn't know who he was dealing with. Neither do you."
Blain shook his head. His hands clenched, and for the first time in his life, he desperately wanted to hit a woman. "I don't have to stand here and take this, you old...do what you want!" He threw his hands into the air, then he jerked open his truck door and left. He was so furious it wasn't safe for him to keep driving. He had to pull over just outside of town.
He didn't care what anyone said about him, but his father had actually done the deceased Jediah Biddies a huge favor. According to what his father had told him, Biddle's drinking had led to some bad business deals. Apparently Biddies needed money to pay off debts. Added to the entire situation was the fact that old Jediah had been illegally dumping trash near the stream for years. After purchasing the land from him, the McTavish's had cleaned up the mess without reporting it.
Blain hit the steering wheel with his fist. The day was going right down the tubes. If things didn't get better this evening, he was afraid he'd end up in a confrontation with gentl
e, crazy Afton. And that was the very last thing he wanted. He closed his eyes, took several deep breaths and started the engine again. What else can go wrong!
Remembering his promise to stay away from Shayla and Hugh, he drove to a fast food diner and ordered a hamburger. He really didn't feel like eating, but it was something to pass the time until tonight. Afton would get her chance to prove this mystical Order existed. He didn't want to think about what would happen when she couldn't.
He toyed with the idea of going to see Rhiannon. Though he could never care for her as he did Afton, he could apologize for his past behavior and tell her about all the craziness. When Rhi understood what was going on, maybe she would forgive him for the way he'd treated her. And she might make some silly joke out of the whole thing, and they'd laugh about it.
But he decided against that idea. After tonight, there wasn't going to be anything to laugh about. Afton would go home, and he'd never see her again. That would be too painful to bear. Dammit, he'd even miss Shayla. It wasn't as if pathological people could help themselves. He knew nothing about psychology, but he found it odd that one woman's strange beliefs could effect so many others. In particular, Afton. She seemed so intelligent. Why would she fall victim to Shayla's bizarre stories? And how could Hugh believe everything the old woman said?
Close to midnight, Blain drove his truck to a service road near the far pasture. He grabbed a flashlight, walked into the woods and sat on an old oak log. There was a stream nearby which ended at a small grotto. A tiny waterfall trickled down the grotto's edge and pooled among green plants. Ferns and moss, which covered the rocks, grew there. He'd found the place some time ago when his father and he had cleaned up the damage done by old Jediah. It had become very special to him, and he was averse to having a farce played out here. But Afton had chosen this spot. He waited and hoped she wouldn't be badly hurt when whatever gimmick she planned failed.