by Mary Dublin
"We're not looking for prisoners," he said, still keeping up that ridiculously calm facade. "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding."
Jon bent down steeply to lay his hand on the cool ground, allowing Sylvia to step off his hand. She did so, reluctantly. She'd hardly taken two steps from him before her knees buckled, and the ground trembled as Jon's newly-freed hands landed on either side of her. Sylvia held still as she felt him lean over her. His lips brushed against her ear in a rushed whisper: “Meet me here at nightfall."
Sylvia nodded subtly, heart fluttering madly at Jon's nearness. The air was cooler in his absence as he pulled away to stand. He nudged Cliff to do the same.
Freed, Hazel rushed to Sylvia's side, still looking petrified by her encounter with a human's hands. Despite their heated argument, Sylvia put a comforting arm around the small girl and used her free hand the pull up the hood of her cloak. Sparing a final glance at the humans, she led Hazel into the undergrowth.
Sylvia looked overhead, watching as her mother lingered for a second, staring at the humans with a contemplating look. Without any further acknowledgement, the fire fairy turned and flew in the village's direction.
Ten
Nightfall couldn't come soon enough. Sylvia expertly navigated the forest floor, but her craving for flight became more overwhelming the longer she went without it. The hole in her wing left her exposed. No match against any animal or fairy that came at her. She did double-takes every minute, making sure no one had followed this time.
She stopped when she noticed the spell book lying on the ground among thick roots, forgotten in the earlier excitement. Scooping it into her arms and holding it close, she blinked around at the darkness.
"Jon?" she called uncertainly.
"Here," a familiar voice whispered.
A towering silhouette separated from the neighboring tree, startling Sylvia into taking a few quick steps backward. She relaxed a second later, edging forward. He was alone, by the looks of it. His familiar shape folded into a crouched position, the dark shadow of a hand outstretched toward her.
Weaving around fallen leaves, she climbed onto his hand without hesitation. After another quick glance at their surroundings, she looked up at him.
"Where's Cliff?" she asked, falling into a seated position on his palm. She braced one hand on the base of his index finger as he stood. The warmth his skin provided was matched by the chill of the evening air.
"In the car," he said, holding her at chest level and raising his eyes to the tree branches above him.
His footsteps thudded on the forest floor, making Sylvia nervous. He wasn't as loud as she expected humans to be when he was careful, but he was still plenty loud for someone to hear him. A couple times, there was rustling overhead, and Jon would quickly cover her with his other hand in a defensive manner.
But luck was on their side. Soon, the hum of the car's engine faded into range, followed by the reflection of moonlight off the windshield. Shivering, Sylvia looked forward to the comfortable warmth on the inside.
"You're going through so much trouble for me," she muttered, worrying for the dozenth time that a guard would burst out of foliage and attack.
"You're worth a little trouble," Jon replied, giving her a small smile as he finally approached the vehicle and pulled the door open.
Jon climbed into the car and settled in the passenger's seat. Sylvia spread her wings, grateful for some space as his hand finally relaxed out flat.
"Mission Impossible a success, I see." Cliff grinned and turned down the radio. "Any tails?"
"No. No one followed us tonight." Jon smoothed his thumb over the top of Sylvia's head, a motion of victory or affection.
She leaned into his touch, sighing with relief. As she turned toward the trees for a last look at the willows, she froze. "No. She's here."
A familiar silhouette stood on a nearby branch, arms crossed. Sylvia didn't move, huddled in Jon's palm, waiting for the figure to swoop toward them angrily, or for fire to flare up. Whatever came first.
When nothing happened, Sylvia frowned and stood tentatively on Jon's hand to get a better look. "I don't think she came to stop me."
Jon gathered her closer, leaning forward to see what she was talking about. A tiny spot of movement hovered between the thick, winding branches arching over the windshield.
"Who is that?" Jon asked.
"My mother," she replied, distracted. "We got into a fight back at home. It got ugly, and she stormed off. She knew I was right." She bit her lip, pained by the memory. "She was furious, but I think I got her to understand. I can't live at the village anymore. She even admitted the High Council was wrong for branding me." After deliberating, she looked up at Jon confidently. "Could you let me out, please?
He rolled down the window with a curious lever attached to the inside of the door and lifted her up as the silhouette departed from the branch to hover close.
"Hold this for me." Sylvia set the spell book on his palm before leaping forward onto the window's ledge.
Her mother hesitantly stopped a foot away from the car, sharp eyes giving metal machine and the humans a suspicious once-over. Keeping her arms crossed, she focused an accusing stare on Sylvia. Although her mother's tone was matter-of-fact, she was audibly wounded. "You were going to take off and leave without telling me."
Sylvia went rigid. "I didn't think you'd let me."
"I don't want to. Not with them, that's for certain," she replied coldly. Her piercing glare shifted to the humans, with a clear puzzlement behind it. She raised her voice to address them both. "My daughter insists the reason you want to take her away is because you want to help. I understand you're not trying to actively hurt her. What I don't understand is why you want to help."
Sylvia peered over her shoulder. Cliff leaned over from the driver's seat to get a better look at her, but Jon was closer.
"She's a person. A good person," Jon answered at last. His eyes found Sylvia, her broken wing facing him. "I don't want her to suffer again because of us."
Sylvia's mother raised her eyebrows, mulling it over. Expression unreadable, she flew forward slowly until she was situated in front of Sylvia. Raising a hand, she brushed her fingertips along the burn marks with surprising tenderness. "I don't blame you for wanting to leave after what the Council did. You aren't a child anymore. I can't control your decisions, no matter how ridiculous they are."
Sylvia smiled sadly and took the hand on her cheek in a gentle grasp. "I'll be fine. I promise. I… I promised Hazel I wasn't leaving forever. I'll come back, so you'll know I'm fine."
When their hands released each other, her mother backed away from the car again until both humans were in view. Her expression hardened. "If I ever find out she's gotten so much as another scrape because of you, be prepared for a world of pain."
Cliff flashed her a surprisingly reassuring smile and turned the keys in the engine. "Wouldn't dream of it, ma'am."
A slight, particular touch appeared on her back. Sylvia looked over her shoulder to find a few of Jon's fingers resting on her back and shoulders, a silent invitation for her to come back into the car.
"Don't mind her, she's just being dramatic," Sylvia said, turning around to step back onto Jon's hand.
"Am I?" her mother countered with a faint smirk. She flinched when the car roared to life. Staring with a mixture of wonder and wariness, she flew back further until she was safely in the shadows of the tree-line.
Sylvia's gaze lingered wistfully on her mother for a few more moments before she turned to face the front. She took a deep breath. "I think we're good to go," she said tightly.
Jon laced his fingers around her waist and relocated her to his shoulder. He rolled up the window as Cliff shifted gears and checked the rearview mirror.
"You'll see her again," Jon assured her as tires crunched over leaves and twigs, leaving the willows further in the past with every moment.
"Thanks," Sylvia said softly, gripping the fabric of his collar and
slumping against his neck. What little sleep she'd had the last couple days was restless and hardly rejuvenating. The trees blurring by made her dizzy. "I was afraid she would hate me. That she would go into my room in the morning and see I was gone, and then never forgive me. I'm… happy I got to see her."
Jon reached up to run the back of curled fingers down her side. "You've got a good family." His quiet voice resonated through her entire body.
Goosebumps promptly rose on her skin at his touch, but she didn't flinch away. The gesture felt almost natural to accept, and it grabbed her full attention. Tranquility eased through her, along with a fluttering sensation she couldn't place. She snapped out of her momentary daze and chuckled.
"That's nice of you to say," Sylvia teased. "Considering she was a few seconds from setting you on fire today without a second thought."
Cliff snorted. "Yeah, she's a real sweetheart."
Jon smiled and gave Sylvia a gentle nudge before lowering his hand to his lap. "Come on, we're abducting her kid—again."
"Not many fairies would confront humans alone like she did, not even for their children," Sylvia mused, wishing Jon's hand had not retreated. "Most would call for help from the village, but she didn't. Said she didn't want to get me into more trouble if the guards saw me with you." She paused, sighing. "I guess that's why she let me go. Both you and the Council may have hurt me, but at least you don't look at me and say I deserve what I got. Lesser of two evils, I guess."
"You didn't deserve to be carved up," Cliff muttered, suddenly looking weary. "This the second time I've been responsible for hurting you."
She gave a sharp huff, brow furrowing. "No, it isn't. Alright, the first time is completely on you. But not the second time. I got marked for my own choices. Going to the village was my idea, remember? The treason is that I willingly used magic to heal a human."
"Harsh," Jon muttered. "Do we just piss off the fairy Council by existing? Or… did something happen?"
"If it did, my guess would be rednecks with too much Miller Lite in their systems," Cliff contributed.
Sylvia nodded, though she didn't quite follow what Cliff said. "Yes, things happened, but not recently." Perhaps a history lesson that had bored her since childhood might actually be interesting to them. "There's a reason you have fairies in your mythology. Our kinds used to be on pretty good terms once. But humans got demanding with magic and started to abuse it. They became… violent when fairies refused to use any more magic for petty things. So fairies all over the world collectively went into hiding, no human contact allowed. Over time, there was no evidence we ever existed. Fairies became myth. And that's why offering magic to a human is like a slap in the face to the High Council."
"That makes sense, I guess," Jon said quietly. "People can be desperate. Things get ugly. I wouldn't want to see what would happen if you guys went public."
The surroundings were dark, but the buildings and shops became familiar.
"I take it you're cool bunking in an apartment with two guys, right?" Cliff asked.
"If you two are alright with it," Sylvia said with a weak laugh. "It may not be a permanent thing, but for now, I have no place else to go. Not that I see you as a last resort or anything," she added quickly.
"Relax," Cliff chuckled. The car lurched as he pulled into the narrow entryway of their apartment complex. "It's no problem."
As they parked and headed up the dank stairwell to the second floor, Cliff eyed his friend slyly. "Besides… I think Jon sleeps better with you here."
Sylvia's face warmed, and she was grateful the darkness kept that hidden. Clearing her throat, she smiled and gave Jon a teasing pat on the neck. "If that's the case, glad I can help," she responded coolly.
"It's not like that," Jon protested, shooting a withering look at Cliff as he passed. The blonde human smirked devilishly, mouthing 'you're welcome' as he unlocked the door.
Hearing Jon's defensive tone, Sylvia's smile faltered. Hadn't they just been joking? The idea that he could have some sort of feelings for her surfaced, but she shoved it aside, knowing how absurd it was. He knew it too. That was why he was protesting Cliff's teasing.
Then again, he had kissed her… but she figured it was more of a 'thanks for healing me' gesture. The argument in her head refused to silence. Would it be so awful to wish it had meant more? She shook her head, disgusted by her own delusional naivety. No good could come of that.
"Well, I'm starving," she announced as they entered the apartment. "Truth is, the only reason I agreed to come here is because you have much more interesting food than the village."
Cliff snorted. "Be my guest." He took her from Jon and turned on the lights in the kitchen.
"I'm gonna hit the hay." Jon leaned against the doorframe.
"Okay." Cliff shrugged and opened the pantry, finding a snack more interesting than his friend's sudden introversion.
Sylvia turned in Cliff's hand, trying to catch a glimpse of Jon. "Goodnight!" she called. Her eyes widened with awe when she turned forward to see the pantry in all its glory. She wondered if all humans kept that amount of food, or if these ones were preparing for an apocalypse. But another matter distracted her still. "Is he alright?"
"I dunno. Probably. Maybe it's gas or something." Cliff shrugged and devoted his attention to food. "Anything stick out at ya? I think I'm just going to heat up a microwave meal."
Sylvia rolled her eyes at his nonchalance. Unsure, she raked her gaze over the unfamiliar packaged foods. Her eyes settled on a tall, colorful box. That looked promising. She tilted her head, trying to find some kind of label. "Cereal?"
"Yeah. We've got Honey O’s and this crappy protein-fiber stuff Jon likes to eat. Here."
He set her on the counter and opened up the bright yellow box, holding out a handful of the glazed 'O's. She leaned over his hand and gathered a few of the strangely shaped things into her arms. Shifting one to her hand, she took a curious bite and made a noise of surprise. It didn't give her the same shock as breakfast the day before, but the sweet taste was still foreign.
Sylvia raised her eyebrows at him. "Wow. You humans really know how to pack sugar into food."
He laughed, eyeing her delight with an uncharacteristic brightness in his eyes. He poured himself a generous amount into a bowl for himself and poured some sort of white liquid in after. She gave the bowl a perplexed frown, but he spoke up before she could voice any questions.
"Don't tell me they had you eating nuts and berries your whole life?"
She shrugged, taking another generous bite of the Cheerio. "What else would there be to eat? Oh. Right… you eat animals, don't you?" A shudder ran down her spine, and she glanced at the food in her arms suspiciously, making a face. "Wait. This doesn't have any meat, does it?"
He snorted. “You’re safe with those, I promise.”
Cliff plunked a spoon into his bowl and started to leave, but remembered he had to carry her. "So… fairies are vegans, huh?” He quirked a brow.
“If you mean we don’t eat meat and animals, then definitely yes. I didn't know there was a word for it." She climbed onto his waiting hand and knelt for stability as she was lifted. "Not like I've ever been given much of a choice, anyway. Can't eat meat if I've never had the opportunity. If I did have the chance, though, I don't think I would." She smirked at him. "Just seems a little barbaric to me."
"Tell me how you feel after tasting a cheeseburger. I tell ya, those things are divine.”
She stumbled as she was put down a bit roughly onto the arm of the sofa, but managed to keep a grip on her food. "I'll take your word for it." Scooting away so she was leaning against the backrest of the couch, she fell into a cross-legged position. "And no, you don't look that barbaric, but it wouldn't kill you to be a little more gentle."
He slowed his chewing, watching her little limbs shift into place. He swallowed, then smiled at her. "Sorry." His tone was genuine this time. He picked up the black rectangular thing with buttons and switched on a much larger b
lack rectangular thing across the room. The screen came to life and emitted sound.
Jon could be heard turning over in bed, and Cliff quickly lowered jabbed a button that made the volume quieter.
"I take it you don't watch much TV, either?" Cliff asked.
"That's what those are called?" Her widened eyes were transfixed on the screen as she leaned in slightly. "I've seen some before. Broken ones, I guess. I had no idea they actually did something." Lips parted in awe, she tore her eyes from the screen. "I thought humans didn't have magic."
"Science is our magic." Cliff flipped through the channels lazily, for her benefit; to give her a broad glimpse at all the different broadcasts. He kept an eye on her, how the light flashed on her wide-eyed face.
"Science is pretty fantastic, then," she said breathlessly, enraptured by the images that responded by changing every time Cliff pressed the device he held in his hand. A slow, wonder-struck smile came to her face. "Looks like humans have things more figured out than we thought." Glancing at him, she noticed he was staring with a strange expression. Mouth full of Cheerio, she raised her eyebrows questioningly.
Cliff quickly averted his gaze. "Just, uh, lemme know if you see something that catches your eye." He shoveled in a spoonful of cereal and continued clicking through nature shows, cooking walkthroughs, and the endless reality-show clips.
Eventually, she noticed the channels had gone full circle. It was difficult to choose anything in particular when it was all so new to her, but she tried to focus.
A sudden sound of gunfire made her freeze. It wasn't as loud as she had heard before, but even the softened noise was enough to make her breathing hitch. She instinctively raised her arms in front of her face and gave a startled cry. A moment too late, she realized the gunshots were coming from the TV.
Feeling stupid, she lowered her arms as she felt color rush to her cheeks. Cliff stabbed the "mute" button with his thumb. The violent show became soundless. Even so, Sylvia kept her gaze fixed straight ahead, refusing to look at Cliff. He probably thought that was hilarious.