The Stolen: An American Faerie Tale

by O'Connell, Bishop

  “Plenty of eyes watching us now,” Brendan said as he led the way down a well-­worn path away from the mound. “Stay on the trail. We’re in the noon lands now, but don’t let that fool you.”

  Before long, Caitlin was walking on her own, following behind Brendan.

  “So, where are we going?” She followed him up and over another rise.

  He didn’t turn around. “Like I said, we’re going to need us a guide. For that we need to go to the faire and see if we can bargain us one.”

  “Fair?”

  “It’s the faerie marketplace. We shouldn’t have any trouble finding someone who knows something and can take us where we need to go. Likely as not, it’ll be a leprechaun.”

  Caitlin opened her mouth.

  “No, they don’t have any gold. Fecking Disney, they did a number on them with that damned movie. Darby O’Gill, my arse.”

  “Oh.” Caitlin tried to bite back a chuckle. “So, if there’s no truth to it, where’d the idea come from?”

  “Leprechauns are cobblers and keepers of treasure.” Brendan raised his hand, and Caitlin stayed silent. “To the fae, gold is pretty, but information and secrets, that’s the real currency of the fae.”

  “So, if anyone knows anything, it’ll be the faerie information brokers and busybodies.”

  “That’s the idea,” Brendan said. “You should know though, they hate being called faeries. It’s like calling you an ape. They prefer fae.”

  Caitlin considered that. Political correctness even in Tír na nÓg.

  Tiny shadows leapt from branch to branch in the trees around them, and things scurried around in the ground growth. That’s when she noticed that the trees seemed to have faces on their trunks. Each bore a serene expression formed of knots and irregularities in the bark.

  She stopped in her tracks.

  Brendan halted midstep and turned around to look at her.

  “You said I shouldn’t eat or drink anything.” She fought back the panic that was trying to claw its way up her spine. “Fiona’s been here almost a day, she’d be hungry—­”

  “Aye, I thought about that as well.”

  “You did? When did you plan on telling me?”

  He lifted his hands. “Easy, love. If the oíche planned on giving her over to someone, they wouldn’t be giving her any of the local stuff.”

  She considered his words.

  “They wouldn’t want to risk her being bound here, would they? But, if they did, we’ll get something at the faire to break the binding.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Of course, it may not matter. The fae blood you passed on to her might protect her anyway.”

  “You promise?”

  Brendan’s face went serious. “Aye, I promise.”

  “Okay. I trust you,” she said, then thought, Don’t make me regret it.

  Brendan opened his mouth as if he was going to say something. Then, thinking better of it, he turned back around and continued walking.

  Caitlin shook her head and followed.

  They walked in silence, the trail leading them up and down several more hills. Caitlin became aware of how out of shape she was. Occasionally, she considered taking off her jacket, but each time, a breeze of cool air made her reconsider.

  “Brendan,” Caitlin said between breaths. “Do you get the feeling we’re being followed?”

  He didn’t answer or even look back.

  “Brendan?”

  Again, no response. Caitlin increased her pace and reached out a hand to grab his shoulder, but as she touched him, he sprinted into the trees and vanished into the shadows.

  Caitlin stopped, frozen in place, her arm still extended. She heard no sound, only the rustling leaves on the cool breeze. She couldn’t believe he’d abandon her, not now. Slowly, she looked around. She touched the handle of the knife at her back in what she hoped was a casual movement.

  After several long seconds, she started to wonder if he really had left her.

  “Let me go!” shouted someone from the woods.

  The voice sounded like a young girl. Caitlin remembered the oíche and gripped the knife.

  Brendan emerged from the woods holding a girl, perhaps eight years old at most, by the back of a coppery sundress. The girl was kicking and protesting, but Brendan held her tight.

  “Sorry, love,” Brendan said. “I had to move, brownies are fast things.”

  “Let me go! I didn’t do anything!” the brownie protested. She had a mess of blond hair, and her eyes were large and all green. Her ears grew into long, pointed tips, vanishing into her hair and emerging at the back of her head. She tried to kick Brendan with dirty bare feet.

  “Brendan, what are you doing?” Caitlin asked.

  “She was following us,” Brendan said. “Weren’t you?”

  The brownie’s mouth moved as she was going to say no, but nothing came out.

  “Aye, as I thought.” Brendan looked at Caitlin. “Fae can mislead you, but they can’t say something outright false.”

  The brownie’s huge green eyes were wet, and they pleaded with Caitlin. She could see trails where tears had washed dirt from the brownie’s face.

  “Why were you following us?” Brendan shook the girl. “Did the oíche put you up to it?”

  The brownie started crying.

  “Brendan, you’re scaring her,” Caitlin said. “Put her down.”

  “Are you daft? You don’t know what a chore it was to catch her in the first—­”

  “I said, put her down.”

  Brendan and Caitlin stared at each other. Finally, his eyes still on Caitlin, Brendan set the brownie down.

  The brownie made to run, but Brendan hadn’t let go of her dress.

  “No, you don’t,” he said.

  “Please, don’t hurt me,” the brownie said between quiet sobs.

  Caitlin knelt down and wiped the tears from the brownie’s face. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

  Brendan was about to say something, but Caitlin gave him a look and he stayed silent.

  The brownie sniffled and wiped her nose with a hand. “I wasn’t doing nothing, I just saw you and wondered what you were doing. That’s all.”

  Caitlin smiled. “We believe you.”

  The brownie’s eyes went toward Brendan, but she didn’t look at him. “He doesn’t.”

  “Sure he does,” Caitlin said. “Don’t you, Brendan?”

  “Oh, aye.” He didn’t even try to sound sincere.

  Caitlin slowly reached out to brush aside some of the brownie’s tangled blond hair. Something glinted in the girl’s hair, and Caitlin’s stomach lurched when she saw the shining silver barrette with a bright green clover of cut glass.

  “Where did you get that?” Caitlin asked.

  “It’s mine!” The brownie’s hand went to her hair. She tried to back up, but Brendan held tight.

  “What is it?” Brendan asked.

  “That’s Fiona’s barrette.”

  “I found it!” The brownie struggled uselessly against Brendan’s grip. “That makes it mine, squares and fair! You can’t have it!”

  “You’re sure?” Brendan asked Caitlin.

  Caitlin nodded. “Nana gave it to me when I was little, and I gave it to Fiona on her last birthday.”

  Now Brendan knelt down, looked the faerie straight on, and spoke, his voice low and gentle. “We know you didn’t you take it, love. Just tell us where you found that shiny.”

  The brownie eyed Brendan, then looked to Caitlin.

  “Please,” Caitlin said.

  “She was sleeping.” The brownie’s face became a little pinched. “The bad ones were carrying her, and I saw it fall.”

  Brendan and Caitlin shared a look, then Brendan scanned the area.

  “They’re gone now,” the brownie said.
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  “Could she be helping them?” Caitlin asked in a whisper.

  “I don’t help the bad ones!” The brownie stomped her foot.

  “Please, that was my little girl you saw.” Caitlin struggled to keep her voice calm. “The bad ones took her, and we’re here to take her home.”

  The brownie eyed Caitlin and raised a protective hand to the barrette.

  “Can I please have that—­?”

  “Caitlin!” Brendan’s voice caused both Caitlin and the brownie to jump. “Remember what I said.”

  The brownie scowled at Brendan. “I don’t like him.” She smiled at Caitlin. “But you’re nice, so I’ll trade you for it.”

  Caitlin felt a surge of elation, and she reached into her jeans pocket. “Thank you, I don’t have much with me, but—­”

  “I like your hair,” the brownie said. “It’s very pretty, and almost the same color as my dress.”

  “Caitlin,” Brendan growled.

  “Give me a knife,” Caitlin said without looking from the brownie.

  “You don’t know what you’re—­”

  “Never mind.” Caitlin drew out the knife he’d given her.

  “Bane!” the brownie screamed and cowered. “That’s bad, you can’t have that here!”

  Caitlin tucked the knife back out of sight and showed her hands. “I’m sorry, it’s okay. See, I put it away.” She leaned close to Brendan and spoke in a whisper. “Can you cut some and keep your knife out of sight?”

  Brendan didn’t answer; his eyes were burning and his jaw was clenched.

  “Brendan, please.”

  After a moment, Brendan cursed under his breath, but then a moment later there was the sound of hair being cut. He held out Caitlin’s hair to the brownie. “You agreed to the trade. That shiny there, for this hair.”

  The brownie held a hand out.

  “But you must also promise that you’ll keep it as a treasured possession,” Brendan said.

  The brownie didn’t move. “And you’ll let me go?”

  “Aye,” Brendan said.

  Caitlin didn’t dare to breathe.

  The brownie pulled the barrette free, set it in Brendan’s hand, and took the hair.

  Brendan let go of the brownie’s dress.

  There was a blur of movement, a rush of air, and the brownie was gone.

  Caitlin grabbed the barrette from Brendan. “Thank you, I—­”

  Brendan wheeled on Caitlin. “Are you out of your fecking mind? What did I say? No bloody bargains!”

  “I couldn’t let—­”

  “You should’ve let me deal with it! Now there’s a fae with a piece of you wandering about, isn’t there?”

  Caitlin could feel the heat of his anger and see the fury in his eyes, but she didn’t back down. “You don’t understand.”

  “No, you don’t understand.” He pointed at the barrette. “You think it were just happenstance that the oíche didn’t notice it fall? Or that it just happened to be where a curious brownie would see it?”

  Caitlin felt her stomach drop. “But—­”

  “This isn’t a fecking game or a pretty story. This is as alien a place as you’ll ever see.”

  “Brendan, please, I’m trying to explain—­”

  “No! You don’t get to explain,” Brendan said. “Now, she agreed to keep it as a treasured possession, which binds her from giving it away, and if she loses it, or it’s stolen, then it’s destroyed. So if the oíche had plans to use it against you, and likely they did, now at least they won’t be able to.”

  Caitlin felt a wave of relief.

  “But the brownie still could.”

  She swallowed.

  “Mind, she’s a noon fae, a young one at that, and likely just looking for something pretty, but that’s not a complication we need.” Brendan turned his back on Caitlin and took several breaths. “You have to trust me, love.”

  When Brendan turned back around, the fire in his eyes had cooled, and the last remnants of anger faded when he saw the tears rolling down Caitlin’s face.

  “I can’t leave her here,” Caitlin said. “Not even a piece of her. This isn’t about me, do you understand that?”

  “I don’t claim to know what you’re feeling, or what an ordeal this is for you. Next time, just let me handle it.”

  Caitlin wiped her tears away. “Okay.”

  “Good, now let it go. It’s done and it ended well enough. We outschemed the schemers.” Brendan looked over his shoulder. “Now, we’re almost there. Let’s go and finish this.” He continued down the trail and Caitlin followed. Neither of them spoke.

  Caitlin plodded up yet another rise. At the top, Brendan was waiting for her.

  “Here it is,” he said.

  Caitlin increased her pace. The destination being so near gave her a second wind. When she crested the hill, Brendan offered her a banana and a bottle of water.

  “Here, a peace offering,” he said. “You should eat before we go down. That was quite a hike, and I’m sure you’re thirsty.”

  “Thanks, I am.” A thin smile emerged on Caitlin’s face as she accepted the items. She opened the sports bottle with her teeth and squeezed cool water into her mouth. After several swallows, she passed the bottle to Brendan and ate the banana. She didn’t see a faire; all she saw were trees and—­

  “Wow.”

  Nestled in the valley was what at first appeared to be a thick forest. A closer look revealed a huge market, not unlike the state fairs she went to as a child. In size, it would rival most shopping malls. What made it hard to see was that there were no shops. Instead, bushes grew into a shape that made stalls and provided shade. The trees varied in size, from average to massive. Several were topped by brightly colored banners that flapped in the wind.

  Her body froze as images flashed in her head: vicious sneers, twisted trees, writhing shadows, an overwhelming sense of dread, and a face distorted in absolute terror. The brownie? The image was so brief she wasn’t sure. Her mouth went dry as Brendan’s warning rang in her ears.

  “We’ll find a guide there, don’t you worry,” Brendan said from behind her.

  Caitlin jerked and snapped back.

  Brendan put the empty water bottle into the pack and looked at the banana peel in her hand, a wry smile on his face. “You want to see something?”

  “Okay.”

  Using his heel, he dug out a small spot in the ground. He dropped the peel in the hole and covered it with the dirt he’d pushed aside.

  Caitlin licked her dry lips. “I don’t get—­” She saw movement in the freshly covered spot, and in moments, a small green plant emerged from the soil. The sprout grew, and in just a handful of seconds, a full-­grown banana tree, complete with large bunches of bananas, stood before her.

  “That’s the business, aye?” Brendan asked.

  “That’s what I call recycling. Can we eat them?”

  “No.” Brendan pulled on the pack. “It’s the magic of the land what caused it to grow, so it’s no longer mortal fare.”

  Caitlin stared at the tree.

  “There’s a lesson in this.”

  Caitlin bit her lower lip.

  “To show you the power that’s in the very soil of the place. You can’t afford any more slips, not of any kind.” He stepped around her and pulled the back of her jacket down so it covered the knife. “Best keep this out of sight.”

  Caitlin swallowed and wiped her sweaty hands on her pants. “You, um, you don’t think that brownie was working with the oíche, do you?”

  “No, she’s a noon fae of the Tír. They don’t like to consort with the oíche.”

  “Oh, good.”

  Brendan put a hand on her shoulder. “Let it go. I told you the hair was useless to the oíche. Just make sure you learned the lesson, aye?”
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  Caitlin licked her dry lips and nodded.

  Brendan looked down at the faire. “Even if she spread word of the iron, it’ll take some time. Sure, some in the market may smell it on us, but hopefully we’ll be in and out before anyone does anything about it.”

  “What if we’re not?” Caitlin asked.

  Brendan pulled the pack tight. “Just follow me lead.” He started down the hill and into the valley.

  Caitlin followed close behind.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-­FIVE

  The soul-­wrenching pain Edward had been expecting wasn’t waiting for him. It still hurt really, really badly, but compared to what he’d felt before, it was nearly euphoric. Still, he didn’t dare to move, out of fear of disturbing the relative comfort he’d found.

  Opening his eyes, he found himself on his back once more. All he saw at first was a white blur. After blinking a few times, the images became discernible.

  At least blinking didn’t hurt.

  He was staring at a white plaster ceiling. Around him, the elves were talking in quiet tones.

  “What do we do if he doesn’t come around?” Quinn asked.

  “We do what we need to do,” Dante said.

  “And what if he gives in—­” Arlen started to ask.

  “We do what we need to do,” Dante said again.

  Edward stifled a tinge of fear. He swallowed and felt a stab of pain, but he focused hard and got a hold of it. At least now he had an edge on the wizard.

  “Help me up.” His voice was parched and dry.

  The elves looked at him, and soon he was surrounded by pointed ears, radiant eyes, and somber faces.

  “You really shouldn’t move,” Dante said. “We’ve done what we can to ease the pain and heal you, but—­”

  “How bad is it?” Not that any answer would change things, but Edward needed to know. He’d have to account for that when figuring out his next move.

  The elves all looked away.