~ Keltic Flight ~

by

*lizzie starr

Once she had returned to Faerie, Nanceen’s determined footsteps slowed. Her feet grew heavy and dragged her down into her doubts. Her logical mind, a strange inheritance from her Faerie mother, repeated a monotonous litany. There were no such things as fairies. No such being as a tiny winged man. No. No. No.

But to each negative thought, her heart whispered yes.

The path took her close enough to Lara’s cabin to hear the twins’ high, joyous calls. Unable to face the young exuberance, or her niece’s knowing looks and questions, she skirted the area. She even tiptoed past the turning of the path and chuckled at the folly of the actions. As if trying to find a new glen in a well-known forest, hoping a tiny man was waiting for her, wasn’t folly.

She had to prove it to herself that it was folly. And so, ignoring the fresh blossoms on the low hanging branches and the melodious calls of the small birds, she moved quickly through the Faerie woods. One thought, one need drew her forward. Her feet shuffled a path through the littered undergrowth. Her eyes searched for the golden glow of sunlight piercing the dimmer forest.

And finally, there it was. There were many glens, a number of small glades throughout her clan’s part of the Otherworld, yet she knew this was the one. Hesitating while still under the overhang of branches, she rested one hand against a rough tree trunk. The dusty prickle of the bark kept her focused. A deep breath caught in her throat. Now, she had to face the empty glade.

One slow step took her from under the trees. A second step disturbed a small animal hiding within a low, bushy plant. Nanceen took another deep breath and rushed to the center of the clear area. She stared up into the cloudless blue sky and chewed on her lower lip. Afraid of what she would see--or what she wouldn’t see--she lowered her gaze slowly.

A soft breeze caressed her cheeks and the lingering scent of unfamiliar blossoms surrounded her. When she scanned the glen, only the bowing grasses greeted her. Feeling a fool once again, she whispered, “Are you there?”

::Find me.::

Nanceen shook her head to clear the reverberating echoes of the soft voice. “I’m not playing games with a figment of my imagination.” Tempted to stomp her foot, the niggling doubt held her still. “If you’re here, show yourself.”

::As you wish.::

A slight fluttering sounded to one side. Keeping her lower lip caught between her teeth and reminding herself to continue to breathe, Nanceen turned slowly toward the sound.

“I’m glad you came back.”

The mellow voice, even more melodious than when only in her head, sent tingles of awareness through her. Rubbing her arms, she tried to press the goosebumps back into her skin. Her mouth worked dryly, but no sound rose from her throat.

“Bide with me a short while?” The fairy rose slowly until he was at eye level. A cautious smile stretched his lips, but he said no more.

Nanceen remained silent as she studied the fine angles of the tiny face, the small, masculine figure accented by a gauzy tunic, a long, dark vest, and tight, form-fitting breeches. Dark, cobalt wings moved slowly, effortlessly, keeping him aloft. A deep longing filled Nanceen and she sighed a soft “Oh.”

The fairy’s smile grew wider. He gestured to a soft, grassy knoll to one side of the clearing. “Will you join me?”

She gave no thought, and nodded slowly. As the fairy flitted away, Nanceen took cautious, even steps to follow. Suddenly, she stopped and covered her face with her hands.

“What am I doing?” she asked herself with a desperate exhalation of breath. Fear for her sanity displaced the odd longing. She couldn’t sit in a clearing, talking to a being who didn’t exist. She didn’t want to give in to fantasy. A bitter laugh burst from her lips. She was fantasy. Why shouldn’t she have her own?

Because the logic she and her sister had tried to cultivate within the bounds of the Otherworld and the fun-loving Faerie would not allow her to succumb to a fantasy. No matter how attractive. Thoughts of her sister kept her from taking the steps forward that her heart begged her to make. The logic of disbelief turned her away from the grassy knoll and the winged figure waiting for her.

But fear made her run from the glen.

Three

Korin lay back. The leaf dipped with his movement as he reached to one side and snatched at the length of a nearby blade of grass. He tugged until a bit broke off, stuck the end in his mouth, and chewed thoughtfully. Floating high above him, clouds filled the clear sky. Their flat, gray color matched his mood. He sighed and turned to his side, propped his head on one hand and stretched his wings.

As much as he hated to admit it, the first of his king’s conditions would perhaps be the hardest to meet. It was the only clear requirement listed on the parchment. She must believe in him.

Korin tossed the shredded stem away. There had been a time long ago, even to the fairy, when both humans and the gentry readily believed in the smallest of the sidhe. Even after the human’s religious beliefs forced the gentry underground, then to the Otherworld, the diminutive fairy were honored, or at least remembered, with sweet honey cakes and fresh milk. Korin smacked his lips. It had been a long time since he’d tasted the creamy white ambrosia of milk.

Until humans began to blame the wee folk for their troubles. When aided by the priests, their beliefs in fairies disappeared. But how had the breach with the gentry occurred? Even the legends skirted the issue. There was no history to help him, and Korin was unsure how to proceed. Without Nanceen’s belief in him, fulfilling any of the other conditions would be useless.

Useless. That’s what he was. The niggling doubt became a surety. Somehow, the Fir Dhaerrig had manipulated him. But at what cost?

Korin flopped to his back, wincing as he folded an edge of one wing under him. He adjusted his position and covered his eyes with one forearm. There had to be a way to make Nanceen--no, he could not make her do anything. He would find a way to convince her of his reality. And the existence of his people. One word flashed through his mind. Over and over until the rapid flashes burned behind his closed eyelids. How?

A shadow covered him, cooling his skin. Cautious, he lifted his arm from his eyes and opened them. A face loomed over him. Startled, he scrambled to a sitting position and scooted back until he pressed against the plant stem.

“Hi, bu’fly man.”

The child’s whisper sent waves of relief over him. Occasionally there were children who saw fairies, until adults taught the belief out of them. Sadness followed the relief. If children could only retain their beliefs, perhaps the breach between races would be healed. And he wouldn’t be fighting to claim love from one of the gentry.

A chubby finger moved closer and he held still. Gently, the child touched the tip of one wing and giggled. “Pretty.”

“I thank you, child. How are you called?” At the confusion in her dark brown eyes, Korin asked, “What is your name?”

The rosebud mouth formed a silent ‘oh’. “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.” She giggled again. The clear sound filled Korin with a strange hope. “Who’re you?”

“I am Korin, young mistress.” He rose, bowed deeply, then spread his wings to their fullest.

“Bu’fly man. Kor’n.”

Korin winced at the childish lisping of his name, but cast a brilliant smile to the engaging girl. “Kor-in, young mistress. Are you able to say Kor-in?”

“Kor’n.” Dark brows drew together as she concentrated in forming her mouth around the syllables of his name. “Kor-in.”

A deep chuckle rose from Korin. “You may call me bu’fly man if you wish.”

The enthusiastic nod bounced the dark waves of her hair around her face. She reached out toward Korin again. Suddenly, her head lifted and her smile grew wider. “Daddy.”

Korin glanced in the direction of her gaze to the tall, dark haired man who gestured at the tiny girl. It was the man who lived in the nearby clearing. A grin tugged at one side of Korin’s lips, it was the place he’d first seen Nanceen.

The child bent close and the warmth of her sweet breath flowed over him as she whispered. “Bye, Bu’fly man.” She ran away and flung herself into the man’s arms.

Korin remained still. Unaccustomed jealousy rose at the tender way the man and daughter greeted each other. When the child pointed back toward him, he knew he should shrink into the shadows, but stood firm. The man’s gaze landed on him and the dark eyes held his for a long moment. With a brief nod, the man gathered the girl into his arms and disappeared under the trees.

The breath escaped Korin’s lungs with a whoosh. The man had seen him. Acknowledged him. The man was not merely indulging the child’s fantasies. He recognized Korin as a sentient being. This was a strange occurrence, one that brightened the dim hopes Korin sheltered in his heart. If one man could see him as he was, why couldn’t the woman he loved see him so as well?

Renewed determination strengthened the beat of his wings as he lifted from his leafy refuge. The low rumble of thunder echoed overhead and thrummed through him. The Otherworld would soon be under the power of a rare storm. Thinking this change in the weather suited his mood well, Korin flew swiftly toward his home. Once the sun shone again over Faerie, he would search out Nanceen. Perhaps the combined darkness of the storm and the moonless night would bring him inspiration