The Golden Winged Horse

by Maggie Joan

  Gran’s room was airy and spacious, like the rest of the home. A double window faced the door, pouring natural light into the room. Along the wall to my left were a set of drawers, a wardrobe, and a TV attached to the wall. On the right sat Gran’s bed, nestled up to the window, and in the corner of the room, behind the door, was a small en-suite.

  “Hey, Faye,” Dad said. He sat on the bed, holding Gran’s hand on the top of the duvet. “I’m so glad you could come by.” He turned to Gran and said, “Mom, look, Faye has come to see you.”

  Gran turned her frail head towards me as I walked towards them both. Her once sparkling sapphire eyes had dulled, leaving them a wishy-washy shade of blue.

  Her wrinkled features creased into a beaming smile. “Elsie,” she breathed, moving to sit up in bed. “Oh my. After all these years, it’s so good to see you!”

  My heart stopped in my chest. I glanced at Dad who pulled his lips into a thin line and gave me a sad smile. I sat down on the small wooden chair next to Gran’s bed and put my hand on her shoulder.

  “Gran, it’s me, Faye.”

  She squinted her eyes then took her hand from Dad’s and grasped mine so tight, I thought she was going to break my bones.

  “Elsie,” she whispered. “I’ve missed you so much. So many regrets.”

  I didn’t know what to do—go along with it or keep telling her who I really was.

  “Don’t upset her,” Dad whispered. “Just go with it.”

  I squeezed Gran’s hand in return and said, “I’ve missed you too.”

  “We shouldn’t have done it, Elsie.”

  “What?”

  “Told the world about the fairies. We should have kept them our little secret. I can’t believe we nearly killed them. I’m so ashamed. If only we could go back.”

  Alarmed, I looked at Dad who was staring at the floor, sadness washing through his brown eyes.

  “I’m sure we would do things differently if we could go back. Hindsight is a marvellous thing.”

  “But at least we know,” Gran said, chuckling slightly. “We know they’re real. We had a fantastic summer with those little fellows, and we should be grateful for that.”

  My heart leapt into my mouth. Fairies. Was she for real? I had to keep this under wraps for now though. “Yes, we have the memories, right? That’s all that matters.”

  “So many memories.” Gran gasped and then giggled like a little girl. “Do you remember that cheeky one, Aeden? Oh, he was such a delight. If only he’d been human, I’d have married him in a heartbeat.”

  I stalled. I didn’t know what to say. My mouth ran dry and I looked to Dad once more who now had his head in his hands. Something deep in my gut was telling me there was family history here I didn’t know about. I knew who Elsie was of course—Gran’s younger sister. She’d passed away several years ago from cancer.

  Still playing the part of Elsie, I carried on. “Yes, I remember him. He was delightful.”

  Gran sighed. “Do you think they’ll ever forgive us, Elsie?”

  “I…I don’t know. Maybe.”

  Gran sat up and clasped both of her hands around mine. “Do you…do you think you could possibly go back there and speak to them again? I know I won’t rest in peace until my conscience is clear.”

  Wow. I glared at Dad who stood up and walked over to the window. He scrubbed his hands over his face and let out a small groan.

  “Dad?” I said, half-whispering.

  The dying rays of sunlight shining through the window picked out the grey flecks in Dad’s dark hair. His recently acquired tan from a trip to Dubai had significantly paled in the moments I’d been here with Gran.

  I turned back to Gran and said, “I’m just going to the toilet, I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Ok, love,” she said, patting my hand with a warm smile on her face.

  I stood up and marched over to Dad. He stood half a foot taller than me and more often than not, used his looming height as an advantage in arguments but today I wouldn’t stand for being intimidated. Something was going on and I was determined to find out what.

  “We need to talk. Outside, now.”

  “Faye—”

  “No, Dad. Now.”

  His shoulders slumped and he gave a faint nod as he turned and followed me out into the corridor. Carers milled around at the top of the long hallway, so I made a mental note to keep my voice quiet.

  Dad pulled the door closed behind him and turned to face me, but he kept his focus on the floor, not even bothering to look at me.

  With that body language, I figured I’d go straight for the jugular. “What’s with the golden winged horse in your office?”

  Dad snapped his head up, his mouth wide open. After a couple of seconds, he narrowed his eyes and said, “You’ve been in my office?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Seriously? No ‘what are you talking about’ just questioning me over being in your office?”

  He pulled his lips into a thin line. “It’s complicated, Faye.”

  My eyes widened. “So it’s real? It’s not some fancy gadget? It’s an actual living breathing animal—” I quickly glanced down the corridor to make sure no one could hear “—from some fantasy world?”

  His silence gave me the answer I needed. My head started spinning at a million miles an hour.

  “You have to give it back,” I said, my tone becoming angrier with each word.

  “I can’t.”

  “So you’re what? Just going to keep it in there for…forever? What are you trying to achieve?”

  Dad stared up at the ceiling and let out a long sigh. “It’s complicated but I need that horse to help your gran.”

  “You do know what that horse does, right? Helps children sleep?”

  He nodded. “I know full well the repercussions of my actions. I don’t need a lecture on it from my nineteen-year-old daughter.”

  “Don’t you dare,” I said, my voice back to normal volume. “You’re the one in the wrong here, not me.”

  “You went in my office—”

  “Oh, quit it about your stupid damn office. You know as well as I do that I go in there most days. You’re a grown ass man and you’re supposed to be a role model to your children. Is this really a good example of that?”

  He sighed again and looked me straight in the eye. Tears welled up in his eyes, glistening over their usual dark depths. “So you’re telling me I’m wrong for trying to help my mother?”

  The pain coming from him pricked a hole in my heart that I couldn’t ignore. “Why do you need the horse?”

  He opened his mouth to answer but before he could say a word, Gran started shouting for George, her late husband, my dearly loved Grandad.

  “I have to go back to her,” Dad said, opening the door.

  “This isn’t over,” I replied, staring him out.

  He disappeared back inside the room and shut the door. I felt like he was shutting me out of more than just a room.

  ***

  After getting an Uber home, I paced around my bedroom trying to figure out what to do. The hardest part was resisting going back into Dad’s office to see Tristan again. As twilight turned into nothing but darkness, I collapsed into bed, hoping I would fall asleep. No such luck.

  I laid there for hours, staring at my white ceiling, hoping that somehow, an answer would present itself to me. My mind wandered back to years ago when Gran used to sit on this bed, telling me her whimsical stories of fairies and a magical land.

  Like a lightning bolt hit me, I sat straight up. I remembered Gran’s tales of how to lure a fairy out. Maybe if I spoke to one, got them to trust me, we could find a resolution that would keep everyone happy. I knew without a doubt that if I just handed the horse back, Dad would only find another way to capture him again and this time hide him where I couldn’t find him.

  Gran told me the easiest, most basic way to lure a fairy out, was a simple thing of sugar-coated buttered bread. I pulled my clothes back on an
d opened my bedroom door. I waited a few seconds, waiting to hear if anyone was up.

  The coast was clear. Creeping across the landing, I tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen. Using the torch on my phone, I buttered two slices of bread and then covered them in sugar. I peeked out of the kitchen window and smiled when I saw the moon at its fullest, shining like a giant silver button.

  Gran always said moonlight and sugar were irresistible to fairies. They would come out in sunlight too, but the offering usually had to be bigger, something like a pot of jam with proper chunks of fruit in. Their favourite flavours were blackcurrant and apricot.

  Apparently, they were most likely to be found amongst trees. Usually woods or forests but some had been found in small copses. Luckily for me, we had a stretch of woods right at the bottom of our garden.

  I grabbed a small plate from the cupboard, placed the two slices of sugar bread on them, and made my way to the back door. Slipping my trainers on, I quietly turned the key in the lock and very carefully opened the door. I knew how far it would open before the hinges creaked, complaining of their old age.

  The cool night air breezed over my skin, making me shiver. I debated going back inside for a jacket but decided against it, not wanting to create an opportunity for potential noise. I pulled the door closed, letting the lock ever so gently slide into place. Once it clicked, I turned towards the woods, walking briskly to warm myself up.

  With every step, I tried not to talk myself out of this. Even after the strange evening with Gran and Dad, confirming the existence of these magical beings, a part of me still felt silly that I was even attempting to do this.

  But then, hadn’t this always been my dream? To experience a whimsical adventure, to know that my daydreams of far off lands and fantasy creatures were actually real. I would be repeating history in years to come, telling my own grandchildren the same stories my gran told me at nights.

  I reached the edge of the woods, wondering how far in I needed to venture and how long I’d have to sit and wait. Using my phone as a torch, I scouted the ground around me, looking for patches of small blue flowers. Gran said they loved iris and bellflowers and tended to make their homes nearby.

  Concentrating on finding the delicate little flowers, I didn’t realise how far I’d wandered inside the woods until I stopped and looked around me. A huge oak tree stood to my right, its trunk thicker than a tractor tyre. It reached metres above me, its branches splaying out over a vast area. Staring at the ground around its base, I stifled a squeal of excitement as I saw a large clump of blue iris.

  I took the slices of bread off the plate and placed them around the iris. Then I took a seat next to them, leaning back against the rough bark of the giant oak. I kept my eyes pinned on the bread, biting my lip in a heady mixture of anticipation and excitement.

  My mind raced with so many ideas and curious wonderings. What would happen? Would this actually work? What would they actually look like? Would it be just one or several? Would they answer my questions?

  I checked the time on my phone to see it was 00:21. Setting it on the ground next to me, I sat and patiently waited for my sugar-coated bread to work. By the time my ass went numb and I could no longer feel my fingers or toes, I tore my eyes from the bread to check the time again—01:01.

  Flexing my fingers and wiggling my toes, I sighed and rested my head back against the tree, looking up into the night sky. Time stretched into an infinity. My fingers and toes grew so numb, I had to keep checking they were actually still attached to me. Eventually my eyelids grew heavy and I found myself struggling to stay awake.

  When my eyes started stinging and feeling puffy, I told myself if I closed them for just a minute, it would ease the discomfort.

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  A deep commanding male voice startled me awake with a shriek. I blinked repeatedly, trying to rid my eyes of the desire to still be shut. Turning my head from left to right, I couldn’t see the source of the voice and started to move to stand up.

  “On your knee.”

  I glanced down and gasped. On my right knee stood a small but fearsome looking human. Everything about him was human except for the shimmering rose gold wings stretching out either side of him. He couldn’t have been much more than six inches tall.

  Leaning forwards to get a better look at him, I couldn’t help but breathe, “Wow.”

  Shoulder length dark hair, brilliant blue eyes, and a handsome face, if this fairy could exist in human form, I’d want to know him. He was topless, muscle upon muscle sculpting his chest. On his left pec, a red tattoo of a leafy tree nestled inside a horseshoe caught my eye. He carried a spear in one hand, and a shield in the other. His legs were covered in some sort of dark glittery material.

  “Why do you look like you’re dressed for some sort of war?” I asked, noting how the moonlight glinted off the tip of his spear.

  “Because you’re here.”

  His direct manner took me by surprise. “I’m not here to hurt you,” I said, lowering my voice. “I just have some questions I would like answered.”

  He lifted into the air, springing off my knee. I wondered whether he was so light I couldn’t feel him or whether it was because I was so cold.

  “I have a question for you,” he said, narrowing his eyes as he flew closer to my face. He pointed the spear at my nose and then asked, “Where is the golden winged horse?”

  My jaw dropped. “My father has him. That’s why I’m here—I want to know how to return him to you.”

  He stared at me for several minutes, silence stretched between us and I began to wonder if I’d said something wrong. When I finally sucked in a huge breath of air, I realised I’d been holding my breath for minutes.

  “You’re older than the majority of humans we have interacted with previously. How can you see me?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I guess because I’ve always secretly believed in you guys.”

  “Even though you’ve clearly never seen us before?”

  I nodded.

  “Why?”

  I hesitated, unsure how much to tell him. I needed him as an ally, not an enemy. Even though I had yet to learn the truth of my gran and these incredible creatures, I knew whatever had happened obviously hadn’t been good or it wouldn’t be playing on Gran’s conscience so badly.

  “I have always thought there’s something more out there than just what we see around us.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Nineteen.”

  He flew backwards a couple of inches and stopped pointing the spear at my face. “This is surprising. Almost unheard of.”

  “I…so what does that mean?”

  “It means you must have the heart of a true believer or you wouldn’t even be able to see me. This is quite shocking.”

  I silently thanked my gran for filling my childhood with hopeful wonders of these magical beings existing. “The horse,” I said. “How do I return him to you?”

  “You need to bring him here at the next twilight. As you release him from his captivity, you must repeat the following word no less than six times—ochao.”

  “Oh-cay-o,” I said, repeating the word.

  He shook his head. “Ock. You must get the pronunciation correct or it will not work. Repeat after me. Ock.”

  “Ock.”

  “Ah.”

  “Ah.”

  He nodded. “Oh.”

  “Oh.”

  “Now altogether—ock-ah-oh.”

  “Ock-ah-oh.”

  “Excellent.”

  I let out a long breath. “Ok. That seems easy enough.”

  “It is. A child could do it.”

  Ouch. His sudden hostility really burned. “I’ll see you tomorrow at twilight then?”

  He let out a little snort. “I do not expect to see you again.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Your kind are hardly trustworthy, kind, or compassionate. I don’t expect you to follow through with your promis
e.”

  “I don’t break promises. I will be here.”

  “Time will tell,” he said before diving back into the clump of iris.

  I noticed that the bread had been taken. At what point, I didn’t know, but it was safe to say my first interaction with a fairy was over. Grabbing my phone, I willed my legs to move and used the tree to pull myself to my feet.

  I woke my phone up to see the time—02:22. No wonder I’d dozed off and my body had gone to sleep. As I jogged back to the house, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment at the hostility the fairy had shown towards humans. It was sad and unnerving to think of what could have happened to make them so adverse to interacting with us.

  As I finally settled in my warm bed, I vowed that tomorrow, I would prove the fairy wrong and show him just how trustworthy we could be.

  Chapter 4

  When I woke the next morning, it took a good few seconds for my current reality to sink in. Then the excitement came. I’d met a fairy. Me, Faye, had actually met a fairy and had a conversation with him. This was unbelievable.

  My instant reaction was to grab my phone and call Macie. But then I remembered I couldn’t. She knew nothing about this, and I’d already lied to her to cover myself. I showered in record time, threw some clothes on and raced downstairs. Being almost nine a.m., I knew Dad would have already left for work, but I headed outside anyway to check the garage, just to be safe.

  As expected, the garage was empty. I had three days off work ahead of me which meant I had plenty of time to work out this mess that had suddenly dropped into my life. The summer sun had taken the chill off the morning air making me want to go out for the day somewhere, but I couldn’t afford to.

  With Dad at work, I made a beeline straight for his office. To my utter surprise, the door was ajar. I guessed he knew where I’d go this morning. Then a thought struck me—had he moved the golden horse elsewhere, somewhere I couldn’t find him and release him?

  I pushed the door open, half expecting to see Dad smiling at me for some reason, but of course, he wasn’t. My focus automatically went to the top shelf where I’d first found the magical little creature. With a heavy thud, my heart stopped dead. The shelf was empty.