Faerie Tale. Raymond E. Feist

      Jack remained silent for a long time. At last he said, ‘Yes, that must have been it.’

      ‘Why? What did you see?’

      Jack looked at her, his face white in the moonlight. ‘You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I could have sworn for the first moment that I saw a bunch of people dancing across the top of the hill, all dressed up in robes and gowns. Then suddenly it was like looking through a fog.’

      Without conviction she said, ‘Too much brandy?’

      ‘Maybe. But one thing is certain, it was weird.’ He took her by the hand and led her over the rise, down towards the path home. ‘From now on, when I hear strange stories about these woods I think I’ll take them a little more seriously.’

      Resuming their walk, Gabbie reviewed what had happened. As they left Erl King Hill, the memory of the figures on the hill became faint, less distinct, until she was certain she had only imagined recognizable shapes, and the terror had been some unreasoning fear in the dark. As they crossed the Troll Bridge and made their way towards home, Gabbie became more and more certain she had been the victim of her own imagination.

      ‘Jack?’

      ‘What?’

      ‘This is going to sound dumb, but … what did we see on the hill back there?’

      Jack faltered a moment, as if the question surprised him, then fell back into step. ‘What …? Something … I don’t know. I think it was a trick of the light. Why? Worried?’

      She said not, then fell silent. She couldn’t imagine why she had been so worked up over a few strange movements in the distance. She was certain that what she and Jack had seen was but shadows and moonlight playing across the bald hill. And her mind was quickly losing its fascination with mysteries in the dark woods. It was turning to the question of her feelings for Jack. And that was enough of a mystery for her.

      Behind them, in the gloom, he stepped out from behind a tree, while the sound of the dancers carried past him on the wind. He was black and featureless as he hid from mortal eyes. Then he willed the mask changed and suddenly he was stunning in his beauty, a figure of awesome perfection. His eyes were blue, like the ice of a frozen lake in a winterscape never seen by mortals, and his movements were supple, and he seemed to flow across the landscape without sound. His form was encased in a faint glow, and around him hovered the scent of spices and wildflowers. He was light and beauty and he was evil. He watched until Jack and Gabbie vanished from his sight, then he turned to face in the direction of the other. Her presence so near had halted him as he had thought to trouble the two mortals passing by. Only she could challenge his will. Only she had enough power to possibly balk him. With anger mixed with a hint of fear, he laughed, and the night’s blackness was rent by the sound. With a smile that held no humour, he bowed in the direction of the Queen’s court and vanished.

      Upon the distant hillock the Queen’s court paused in their dance, for the music halted. The musicians turned as one, looking past the dancers into the night. All shivered, for they knew he was again upon the night, taking unto himself that which he desired, and save for the Queen’s protection, all were at his mercy. They were afraid, for to hear the sound of his laughter was to hear madness.

       • Chapter Fourteen •

      Gloria jumped slightly at the sound of the kitchen door slamming. For just an instant she heard another sound in the distance, the sound of laughter. She put aside her discomfort as she heard Gabbie’s and Jack’s voices. Gloria thought she’d see how they were doing, then decided the intimate, low tones of conversation indicated any interruption would be unwelcome. Given Gabbie’s obvious attraction to the young man from North Carolina, Gloria decided to let things lie.

      She glanced over to where Phil sat studying some notes for the next day’s work. Then she heard Patrick’s voice shouting from the boys’ room. ‘Mom! Dad!’ She was out of her chair and moving towards the stairs without thought. The boy’s tone had been excited, not alarmed, but Phil followed his wife with an expression of concern on his face, wondering why she was so jumpy.

      They entered the boys’ room to find both of them seated upon their toy chest, gazing out the window with rapt expressions on their faces. Sean said, ‘Wow!’ drawing out the exclamation. Patrick echoed his brother.

      Out by the barn, a dozen tiny lights hung in the night air, pinpoints of blue-green glow, moving through the murk, blinking on and off. ‘Neat!’ said Patrick.

      Phil laughed. ‘Fireflies, boys. You think this is something? One good rain and there’ll be thousands of them out there. We’ll get a mason jar and catch some.’ To his wife he said, ‘You know, I completely forgot about lightning bugs. It’s the sort of thing you take for granted when you grow up with them. I didn’t think about how the kids would feel seeing them for the first time.’

      Gloria smiled. Something was making her jumpy and she felt foolish at her alarm. Still, she was the mother. ‘Okay, back to bed.’

      ‘Aw, Mom,’ both boys said as one.

      ‘Can’t we watch a little longer?’ asked Sean, his voice pleading.

      ‘Well, for a while. But I’m coming back in ten minutes, and if you’re not in bed, I’ll …’

      Both boys grinned. This was not a real threat. ‘We’ll go right to bed,’ assured Patrick. Everyone knew the boys would be under the covers only as soon as they heard their mother’s footfalls upon the stairs.

      ‘Okay, then. Ten minutes.’

      Phil put his arm around his wife’s waist. ‘Next year you’ll hear the peepers.’

      ‘What’s peepers?’ asked Sean.

      ‘Spring peepers,’ answered their father. ‘Little frogs, about the size of a pencil eraser; they make the loudest sound. It’s fun.’

      ‘Neat,’ said Patrick.

      ‘Good night, boys,’ said Phil, and the adults left.

      Patrick and Sean were as good as their word and went straight to bed a moment before Gloria entered the room. After she had tucked them in and returned downstairs, Patrick fell quickly asleep. But Sean felt a strange restlessness and, after ten minutes of trying hard, gave up and crept back towards the window.

      He settled comfortably atop the toy chest and watched as the tiny blue-green lights wove their dance. He was fascinated by the sight. In California’s desert climate, fireflies were unknown, and this was as good as anything he’d seen at Disneyland. Then several of the lights moved towards the house and Sean craned his neck to watch them as they vanished below the eaves beneath his gabled window.

      He could see a hint of illumination and knew the fireflies were just below where he could see them. Putting his face as close to the screen as he could, he could barely make out their presence.

      Then suddenly one came shooting up next to the screen, causing Sean to jump back a little. His eyes opened wide as he saw that before him was nothing that could be called an insect.

      Hanging in the night air was a tiny creature of light. A tiny woman, nude and perfectly formed, no bigger than Sean’s thumb, hovered like a hummingbird on faintly seen, glowing wings. Eyes that were enormous for her small face regarded Sean with merry amusement for a moment, then the creature sped off.

      Sean sat stunned. He glanced to where Patrick lay sleeping, and turned to face the door to the hall, left open a crack so his parents could check up on the twins without making a sound. He was uncertain what to do.

      After a long moment of sitting with his heart pounding, Sean returned to bed. Sleep was a long time in coming.

July