Flash Fiction #477 -- The Storm Breaks/2

 

"Really, Grint," Conaire said, moving up beside me with the Troll only a few steps away.  "The smile still isn't working."

The Troll -- Grint -- gave a dejected sigh, and the teeth disappeared behind his thick, dark lips.

"Damn.  I had hoped I had it this time.  It looks like such a handy cultural tool for dealing with humans."

"I'm not human," I offered.

"Ah, maybe that's the problem."  He looked me over.  "Powerless Fae?  Exile?  But brave.  You would have tried to protect Con --"

"Grint, what are you doing here?" Con said with a touch of tried patience.

"I suspect much the same as you.  Looking for the Veil."

"Ah.   I had hoped you might be here to take me back," Conaire admitted.

"Alas, no.  Are those pretzels?  I've smelled them,  but never --"

I handed mine over to him.  He took dainty bites.  By the time he was done, a half dozen tiny pixies had followed him out of the bushes.

"I'll get more pretzels."

I went and bought a dozen more -- it says something about my diet that the woman only nodded and put them in a box.

But by the time I went back, they were gone.  I stood with the box in my hands, feeling a little touch of magic.  For a few brief minutes, I had felt part of my old life --

"Keylis?"

I turned to find Conaire to my right.  I looked at him, mistrusting.

"We moved to somewhere more secluded and easy to shield," he said with a wave toward the bush.  "It seemed wise before someone spotted Grint and his friends."

"Yes, of course.  Take them."  I held out the box.

"Trust issues," Conaire said with a nod.  He took hold of my arm.  "Come on.  I'll walk you through."

I was going to argue.  I had no place with this group.  I could see that now.   I started to pull away, but Conaire didn't let go, and I was swept through the magic wall.

I passed out the pretzels.  We had a feast.  I sat and listened, still thinking I had nothing to offer -- but they didn't know much about the human world and misjudged some of it.  I provided a few pointers, and before I knew it ... I was one of them.

It turned out the biggest problem was the scattering of a vast number of Faeland creatures across the landscape.  Most of them had, wisely, moved out of populated areas, but they were still enough of them that we were lucky not to have drawn too much attention.  Grint apparently read whatever newspapers he could find and had a few clippings about strange lights and odd people.  I wondered if a tale about Conaire in the bar was going to turn up.

"All of the reports point toward the north and Boston," I offered.

"Do they?" Grint said.  "I had no idea of the direction.  If that is so, it is probably where we should go, right?"

He turned that question on Conaire. The bard was already looking toward the north with a steady gaze.  His hand lifted, and he gave a nod.  I could feel the power gathering around him.

"North," he agreed.  "Some are already hiding in tunnels there, but there are too many of us."

"Subway," I guessed, though that meant nothing to the others.

"If there is rock, I can make more places," Grint said.  "There might even be more rock trolls."

So we went north, and primarily by their magic.  I would have felt useless, but I did have the ability to deal with humans and get us food.

The Boston subway system is enormous.  Several hundred of our people were hiding there already, and two rock trolls had started a small cavern.  Grint went to work with them, and it quickly expanded.  This was good because we found far more in need of shelter than we'd expected, and that was before Con put out a special call for any who could hear the magic.

We'd been out earlier securing food which involved magic, money, and more magic.  We stuck to fresh vegetables, and I paid for them.  Granted, most of the money came from magic, but it would still be useable by humans.  We just had to be careful not to draw too much attention.

Con and I went out near midnight on a blustery, cold night and made our way up to Bellevue Hill, the highest natural point in Boston.  He took out his harp, and I could see his frown.

"There is something dark in the air, Key.  I can sense it, and I worry that my music will draw it to us.  Take my knife.  It is the best protection we might have."

"Except for me," Grint added.

We both jumped, and Grint laughed, a sound like a minor earthquake.  Car alarms went off, but Con silenced them with a wave off his arm.  He'd learned that trick fast.

"What are you doing here?" Con asked, but I had the feeling I knew.

"I don't think he trusts us off by ourselves," I said.

Grint grinned.  It still didn't help.

"Two guards are better than one," Grint said.  The smile disappeared.  "You aren't alone in sensing something dark on the move.  Call our people in, Con, my friend.  You are the only true hope they have."

Con nodded and pulled the harp from the case and braced his legs in a way that told me this was not going to be easy for him.

Grint reached down to a boulder, stuck his fingers into it, and drew out a long, stone sword with a wickedly sharp edge.

I reminded myself to never mess with rock trolls.  Ever.  And I was thrilled he came along to help guard.

Con began to play.  The tune tried to take my attention, but I forced my mind away from it before he began to sing.

A good thing because things immediately began to change.

Flash Fiction #476 -- The Storm Breaks/1

 

The storm had hit at sunset almost two weeks ago, but even so, I still started at every errant breeze.  The storm had come straight out of the faelands, fueled by so much magical power that I drank it up, though I could no longer use it.  For that night and the next few days, I had felt more alive than I had since I was stripped of my powers and exiled to the human lands.

I worked as a bouncer for the dive of a bar below the room I rented.  Tuesday was my night off -- unless a fight broke out and woke me.

That wasn't what happened this time.  I dreamed of home with such clarity that I woke weeping for the first time in the decade I'd been among the humans.

Everything was quiet, even though the sunset colors still painted the window.

I heard the last strains of a harp, so out of place that I sat up, straining to hear --

Fae harp.

I grabbed my clothes, dressed as fast as I could, and abandoned my boots.  I raced down the hall and down the steps.  People were starting to make appreciative noises, no doubt coming out of the spell that the bard had cast.

What was the fool thinking?

The place was crowded with restless people.  They'd heard something odd, but worse than that, the bard had power behind his words.  He'd entranced them, these humans who had never felt or believed in magic.

I found the bard sitting on a highbacked stool by the bar, a harp resting on his lap.  The owner had given him some peanuts.  Yeah, nice guy, Walt.  Even I could tell the bard was weak and probably hadn't had food for a while.  He chewed on the peanuts as though they were as hard as rocks.

No fae bard should be in this state.

I crossed straight to him.  Walt must have seen something in my face because he took a step back.  The bard, though, looked up in surprise, with a hint of hope in his eyes.  He had sensed I was fae as well, but he hadn't realized I had no powers.

He was dressed in fine clothing, the kind you would expect at a fae court -- but not here.  I realized the clothing looked a bit tattered, too.

"Friend Bard," I said with a slight bow of my head, just enough to be polite.  "Will you come with me?  We can find a place more suited to your station."

The bard could hear the sincerity in my voice.  You cannot lie to a bard.  He stood, and Walt reached to stop him.

"Don't do it," I said.

"Fine.  Don't come back."

I nodded.  That took Walt by surprise for some reason.  I took the bard out the front door and indicated a little alcove.  "Please stay here.  I have a few belongings to grab before we go."

He looked at me with a bit of frown this time.  "You aren't lost like I am."

"No.  I'm exiled," I said.  I would have told him the truth even if he wasn't a bard.

"Why?" he asked.

I paused a moment.  Then I shrugged.  "For trusting the wrong person and taking the blame for something they, at the least, should have shared with me.  I'll tell you more details later, Friend Bard.  Please wait."

He nodded in agreement.

I charged up the stairs at the side of the building and down the hall to my room.  I hadn't locked the door, but no one else was around.  I just grabbed everything, including my boots, and threw them into my duffle bag.

I nearly fell coming back down the stairs.  A touch of magic kept me from tumbling, and I came down to find the bard waiting.

"Thank you," I said with a proper bow this time, even though that drew a few stares.

"You didn't expect me to stay and wait for you," he said.

I looked him in the face for the first time.  "I have trust issues."

He sensed the humor behind the words and smiled, though it passed.  He put a hand to the wall, or he might have fallen.

"Let's find some food," I said and stepped away.  "I'm Keylis."

"Keylis," he said with a nod.  "And I'm Conaire."

I almost stopped walking.  People passed by us since the bard -- Conaire -- wasn't moving very fast.

"I know of only one bard named Conaire," I finally dared to say.

"The Queen's Bard, yes -- for all the good it has done me.  I'm lost, friend Keylis.  I can't find a hint of the veil that I was thrown through in the storm.  I wasn't the only one who came here, either -- but where the others went, I can't say.  I've been looking.  I don't understand this world."

"I've been here for years, and I still find it difficult.  Let's get something to eat."

"They want coin, and not good fae coin, either."

"I have plenty of their type of money.  Food will help."

I thought he might argue, but I didn't give him time.  I found my favorite pretzel stand.  The woman running it gave Conaire a curious look, but you see many strange things in the city.

Then I found us a bench in the park, and we ate in companionable silence as if we were old friends.  I was just working my way up to a few questions --

And a colossal rock troll stepped out of the bushes in front of us.

I stood before the creature with the Queen's Bard at my back.  I'd only ever seen one Rock Troll before, and that one at a safe distance of half a mile.  I really didn't think I would survive for long, but it might give Conaire a chance to escape.

The Troll pulled his lips back to show a row of giant, blunt teeth and could grind bone to dust.

Flash Fiction #475 --The War Never Ends (Drabble)

 She hid behind the garden.  The tomato plants grew tall and offered some protection.  The humans had found all the rest of her siblings and killed them.  She was now the last and only had to hold on long enough for the young ones to escape.

The bright summer days passed quickly and soon the young ones began to feel their first yearnings to fly free.  She held them still.  Not long now as she aged, gold to silver.

The wind came and she let go.  The young ones danced away.

The dandelions would return.  The war wasn't over yet.

Flash Fiction #474 -- The Book (Drabble)

 The book knew its worth, though it made sure no one else did.  The few who found it, hidden on a high shelf in a dusty old library, marveled at the ancient parchment pages and the words written in flowing gold letters.

 They could not read it, and the book made certain they lost interest.  It would work its way back to the high shelf and wait.

The book knew what it held: memories, instructions, and even spells.  The hand that wrote those things would be the one to pick it up again.

The time neared.

Arthur would soon return.