Lost Civilization Challenge: "Unexpected Happenings" -- by Anne Leskey

Unexpected Happenings

By Anne Leskey

“A council meeting!” exclaimed Shay, jumping to his feet uneasily, his sword clattering onto the ground, “Jame, you ought to have mentioned that it was going on before now.”

“I figured we were avoiding it, like normal,” I shrugged, picking up my brother’s sword and thrusting it, hilt first of course, at him, “Well, come on, probably hasn’t been going for more than a quarter of an hour, maybe five minutes more, but honestly, what’s the difference?” 

“But…but, this is probably about the wolf I saw,” spluttered Shay, “Oh, bother, well, let’s go now, anyway.” 

We thrust our swords into their respective sheaths, and hurried our steps towards the council building, though I was still reasoning that Dad was probably in his introductory stage, and therefore we probably hadn’t missed anything, really. 

We slipped into the building, taking places in the most remote and dark corner we could find, not without some misgivings on my part of the probability of there being certain arachnids and other unsavory creatures lurking about it as well. 

“And therefore, with all due consideration, and a good deal of prior thought and arrangement, and in truth, I cannot believe but what this is the best option, I hereby nominate my own child Jamie for the task, accompanied by Shay.”

“Well, thanks for asking me,” I shouted grumpily, “I’m not moving a foot.”

“Then your legs are going to fall asleep, Jamsie,” Shay whispered, “Dad, are we going after that mountain place that you’ve researched so extensively?”

“Aye, and that you are, m’boy,” agreed Dad heartily, “You and your sister. You, having me for a father, are the best informed, and besides which, I think you suited to the possible dangers of the journey and the climb and the search.”

“Thanks,” I growled, and then lightened up considerably as I inquired, “When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

This was something of a shock, as my mum seemed to feel it, reeling back with a bottle of very old-fashioned looking smelling salts underneath her alarmed nostrils. 

“Dismissed!”

That was probably the shortest council meeting that my Dad had ever held, and all the people seemed to feel it so, as the score of them dispersed, leaving me and my family to go home and discuss this announcement of my father’s. 

“So, you’re telling us that you honestlybelieve that this white wolf is connected with a fairy civilization?” I spluttered disbelievingly, “Dad, with all due respect, isn’t that a bit daft?” 

Dad looked properly offended, staring over his round, blurry-lensed glasses and clearing his throat curtly, “My dear Jamesina, it is most certainly notdaft. Allow me to continue.” 

My name was notJamesina, nor had it ever been, but Dad had to elongate it somehow, and therefore did in that way, much to my annoyance. Nobody was stopping Dad from proceeding, but he fixed everyone with a stare which he fondly believed would transfix us into silence, had we been disposed to make noise. 

“The white wolf, as you so vulgarly call it, dearest of unintellectual daughters, had purple, bloodshot eyes.”

“Dad, they were lavender,” muttered Shay, who had been the only one to see the wolf, for it had looked into the living room window as he had been reading at three A.M. 

The aggravating part was that I would have seen the wolf if I hadn’t been in the kitchen making toast with cheese on it. 

Dad cleared his throat once more, and adjusted his shirt collar ceremoniously, “As I was saying, this Canis lupus had what our visionary organs perceive as a shade of color known to the common folk as lavenderirises.”

“What do youknow it by, faded purple, or something?” Shay whispered, causing me to break into suppressed giggles. 

“Further, this creature had bloodshoteyes! Bloodshot purple, clearly the creature cannot be designated as a normal animal. I believe it must be connected with the tales of the Forgotten Folk.”

“Dad, they are not forgotten, but they’re just a legend,” I said in exasperation.

“Legend or no, I will see you and your brother depart upon your mounts and that tomorrow, and you shall not return until success or failure have met your most strenuous attempts at unearthing these deadly mysteries.” 

“A stray wolf wanders into the village and looks in a window. I don’t see anything very deadly or mysterious about that,” ventured Mum, who usually made very good points without really meaning to, “But you know best, Ian.”

“Yes. I think it is mysterious. But no matter, no matter. Our heir and our daughter shall investigate this. The mountains will reveal what they know if you are properly prepared to receive the knowledge.”

I stared at him, open-mouthed, and then shut it abruptly, “We’ll be riding Moonstar and Frostflame, I suppose?”

“Yes, yes, you may ride your Moonstars and Frostflames if you so will! Penelope, will you attend to packing the necessary garments and nourishment? I shall,” Dad stood up nobly as he continued to speak, “I myself shall pack the more important implements so necessary to the success of such a venture as this one proves to be. Pen and paper, pen and paper, so you can write everything down.”

Dad and Mum wandered away to attend to the packing, and Shay and I turned, looked at each other, and burst out into violent laughter. 

“Canis lupus?” I chortled, “Honestly, the poor thing was probably just hungry. Still, it’ll be kinda of fun to ride our horses for a few days up and down the mountains searching for a civilization which probably never even existed.”

Shay was choking with merriment, but manged to remark, “The truly funny thing is, that it’s not so strange to see a white wolf, since they are known to be in existence, and in that light, looking through a window out to the dark, the poor Canis lupus was probably the owner of blue eyes or something, not lavender.”

“I hope Mum remembers to feed Katelyn Rose while we’re gone.”

“The pig? Of course Mum will remember the pig.”

“Well…alright then. We’d better practice our sword fighting so that we are prepared for whatever comes on our rather hopeless and absurd journey.” 

“Noble quest, my dearest sister, noble quest,” admonished Shay, his face red from laughter as we stood up, and exited the house to engage in the very ancient art of clashing swords together in what we believed, at least, to be a skillful fashion. 

The next morning Moonstar and Frostflame, our respective blue roans, Moonstar with a white star on her forehead, and Frostflame with a blaze running down his, were standing outside, with a good deal of luggage attached to them. Frostflame, Shay’s horse, had a saddle, but Moonstar did not, for I found that just a blanket was the most comfortable way to ride for me. 

“Fare thee well, my children, and come back with good tidings, I beg of thee!” Dad said, shaking his head dolefully, having lamented all morning that he couldn’t go, despite the fact that there was really nothing important to keep him from doing so. Mum said goodbye much more affectionately and with much more concern for our welfare than for the quest’s. 

I swung myself up onto Moo, as Moonstar was affectionately called, and Shay took a flying leap and gracefully landing precisely where he wanted to on Frosty. After several more goodbyes, we pretended to consult a map which Dad had given us, and then set out jauntily for the mountains, which were very large and therefore quite distinct in front of us. 

We were hailed by several people as we left the village, and I smiled, waving my hand to my acquaintances, which consisted of most of the tiny village, while Shay nodded his head to all and sundry, even to a random Guernsey cow. 

But for all that, I drew a relieved breath when we finally got out of the village, and I set Moo’s head firmly towards the tall, white-peaked mountains which Dad assured us would hold some sort of supernatural something (he had been conveniently vague and grand), and which I decided would have nothing worse then a couple of mountain goats and some ice. 

“Well, here we go,” said Shay calmly. 

“Yes,” I said shortly.

“Hopefully Mum packed a lot of food,” Shay continued.

“And warm clothing,” I nodded my head at the cold-looking mountain.

“That too,” agreed Shay, “I don’t think we’ll lack water.”

“Should hope not. Ivywater runs straight along our path for a good deal of the way, and up on the mountain, how hard will it be to get a drink where there’s the snow?”

“I don’t think we’ll be that far up, Jame,” Shay objected, “See, Dad marked it out for us, and it’s not at the very peak of Mount Andrea, so we’ll just have to trust to springs of water flowing gently down the lichen covered rocks of the lower peaks.”

“How very poetic. Watch your horse, you nearly stepped into a mud puddle,” I said primly, patting Moonstar’s neck with a good deal of smug complacency. 

“What? Oh, a little mud never hurt anyone, Jamie. Now, I wonder if we’ll run into any villains?”

“Probably, but it’s not a prospect to be delighted in,” I observed, “Everyone knows that the mountain foot bears a most sinister reputation. Bandits, you know.”

“Common thieves, really,” said Shay reflectively, “There is a difference, you know.”

“Yeah, bandits are somewhat more…refined. Whereas thieves are just common criminals,” I said decisively, and not quite clearly knowing what I meant, having never encountered either type of robber except for in over the top fantasy books, which I delighted in reading. 

Shay, however, offered no objection to my classification of thieves, possibly entertaining some such notion himself. For the next two hours we went on in relative silence, both of us enjoying the cool, brisk day and the smooth motion of the horses beneath us, and the knowledge that there was a nice lunch to look forward to, because Mum was the best cook in Quigley Village (my great-great grandfather having modestly and generously bestowed his own last name upon the settlement). 

Shay and I had always gotten along unusually well, never bothering much with other close companions, in fact, although we were friendly enough with almost everyone in the village. He was four years older than me, at nineteen, and father always averred that he was much better looking, though how he could tell how anyone or thing looked from behind his white-tinted glasses was a puzzlement which for the better part of eleven years I had never been able to figure out. Before then I had been too busy being a rather loud infant and toddler to pay much attention to anything of that sort. 

Besides playing with me when we were small, Shay was the one who had trained me in how to use a sword, though we used sticks at first, and then wooden swords, and then metal ones, which was quite a triumphant day for us when Mum finally, reluctantly, allowed us to have them. In fact, she might have been right in discouraging it, for it seemed that having a brother for my only sibling had made me a rather obstinately reckless person, constantly attempting to outdo him in riding, sword fighting, tree climbing, running, and all sorts of other things which kept Mum in constant fear for our necks, backs, and limbs. 

It had been an especial worry to her when we had acquired the blue roan twin foals seven years before, for we had trained them ourselves, and had proceeded to learn how to get on them and off them with extraordinary skill. 

I suddenly had to break off in my reflections as Moo reared, causing me to have use my skills to stay on her, and veer her away from the short, somewhat confused looking entity obstructing our path. Shay scowled heavily, being very gifted at that face expression, and therefore using it far more often then he might have had he not been so talented in the art. 

“Well, sir, if you do not mind you are blocking the path,” commented Shay, directing his scowl at the personage. 

For the man, slender in himself, or at least, not overly large, was holding a very long staff, and held it lengthwise, in such a fashion that we should have to either take to the muddy, boggy ditch, or leap over his staff, with the risk of hitting his yellowish-gray haired head. 

“I said,” said Shay, reinforcing his scowl tenfold. 

I attempted a chilling smile, but gave up in disgust, knowing full well that my prominent dimples didn’t allow anything but a merry smile to look right. So I relied on my heavy, dark golden-brown eyebrows to convey my displeasure at his usurping the road. 

“He just jumped out of the ditch, and there he is,” whispered Shay to me, having noted my absent look prior to Moo’s rearing, which meant that I had been daydreaming. 

I smiled, “Now, if you please, we need to continue, so if you could kindly remove your staff? Perhaps you do not realize that it is in the way.”

“Nope,” stated the man coldly.

“I beg your pardon?” Shay was bringing out his icy manner, and he could do it a lot better then I.

“This is our road. Ye ain’t going to pass, least no’ till milord shows up,” snapped the queer fellow abruptly, in a jerky sort of voice. 

“Shan’t I?” Shay said dangerously, resting a hand slightly on his hilt, but the man didn’t even appear to notice.

I frowned, and then backed Moo several paces before giving her the familiar, gentle slap on the ear, and charging forwards, her legs flying up, and we soared over the staff, missing the man by inches, just as he swung up, attempting to trip her, but my mare was already several feet along the road.

“Now. I just did pass, so what do you have to say to that? Further, it is common knowledge that this road is public, so I shall have the sheriff on you, if you do not allow my brother past!” I squeaked indignantly, having an unfortunate tendency to use a high-pitched voice whenever I was particularly annoyed. 

The man laughed, “Thinking of disturbing the ruins, if they exist, are ye?”

“Ruins?” Shay questioned, “Nonsense, we are merely going for an educational hike…er…ride up to some of the lower peaks of the mountains. I trust there is no offense in that.”

“Shan’t get there. Shan’t let you, she shan’t. Nor I, if it comes to that. Not without permission.”

“Now, look here,” Shay was wrathful by this point, his storm-gray eyes narrowing into an expression of dislike. 

He pushed past the staff, and once he was across we continued, I watching the man with my head turned so that my eyes could see his actions. He followed us closely, shaking his staff slightly, and his heavy, malicious face twisted in wrath. 

“Shan’t let you, she shan’t,” he kept repeating, making my brother and me decidedly uncomfortable. 

A wind started up, carrying his words even more clearly to my aching ears.

“Shan’t…she shan’t…she shan’t!” he cried continuously.

Shay turned to me, “Something needs to be done with this situation.”

“I agree. Let’s stop for lunch. Maybe he’ll get bored, aye?” I suggested.

This suggestion was promptly and hopefully carried out as we took out our bread and cheese which Mum had provided. But our Personal Annoyance, as Shay had dubbed him, continued to stand around muttering something about ‘shan’t’ and ‘won’t allow’. 

“Shay, waddawegonnado?” I spluttered out all at once.

“What are we going to do?” translated Shay calmly, “I suggest that we just mount our steeds, and, ignoring the detrimental effects upon our digestion, gallop. What person can keep up with a horse, after all?”

“Well, that would work, but look behind you!” I blurted, my voice squeakily apprehensive as I noted the new arrivals of a tall man riding a sturdy, large horse and leading a smaller one, upon which our Personal Annoyance seated himself.

“Oh, bother,” snarled Shay, scowling fearsomely, “What arewe going to do now? I suppose we’ll just have to hope that Moonstar and Frostflame can out run them.”

“We’ll just tire them down. I think we’ll have to just continue on our route, and hope that we can shake them off along the way. Perhaps we’ll pass the place that they wish us not to enter on our way to the mountain, yes?” 

“Perhaps so. Let’s go.”

During our conversation we had finished our sandwiches, and so we remounted, and started off at a leisurely pace, closely followed by our twoPersonal Annoyances. 

“The new man looks more reasonable,” I said after a short time, “Perhaps we can procure an explanation of this conduct from him, if their stalking continues. It’s not so annoying, but for that we don’t know if they are desperate characters, or not, you know. They couldbe robbers, murderers, or secret police agents!”

“Are those desperate characters?”

“In some books,” I answered defensively, “But I say, Shay, what are we to do? Dad didn’t give us a lengthy explanation about this!” 

Shay smiled mischievously, his single dimple appearing at the action, “If they want to follow us, then we’ll give them a beautiful road to traverse. Jame, just go where I do. We’ll end up at the mountain, eventually.”

With that he started his horse at a trot and we veered off into a side road which had nothing to do with our route, but, as I ascertained by a quick peek at the map, would lead us through a town or two, and then take us back to a crossroad where we could get back onto the right path, and then proceed to the mountain. I knew that it might not shake them off, but it was a brilliant scheme for annoying them. Shay was always good at thinking of things like that, and I always went along with them, though at home, I usually was the one blamed, Dad not able to bear the thought of reprimanding his firstborn, son, and heir, if he could scold me instead.

Our Personal Annoyances followed us sharply into the side road, but both of them were looking angered and a little apprehensive, the taller, brighter-witted looking one more especially. 

“Maybe they are supposedto be trailing us? I mean, for some real purpose. But why would anyone want us?” I murmured in a confused voice, “And maybe they actually want us to end up somewhere, so they are mad because we’re off the road to the place they want us to go. Maybe that man is ‘Milord’ and so he wantsus to go. The first Personal Annoyance appears to be quite fine with our continuing now.” 

“Dunno. But I’m beginning to think that something has gone amiss.”

“Beginning?” I scoffed, “Why don’t we try talking with the new arrival?”

“By we, I suppose you mean me.”

“You’re older. You can beginthe conversation!” I pointed out a little louder then I meant to, and then suddenly the more rational appearing Personal Annoyance trotted his horse up to catch up with us, and managed to preform something like a bow in his seat.

“I’m so very sorry over the inconvenience, I fear you might have been alarmed by us following you, but you see, my sister needs to talk with you,” he said with an air of apologetic command. 

“Does she? And how if we should wish to continue on our journey uninterrupted by possible burglary schemes. A note in your ear, your companion scarcely looks reputable,” said Shay haughtily but in a low tone, looking the stranger over impassively. 

“It will not put you out of your way,” said the man with a slight smile, “I’m Phelan…but my sister will explain everything. You’ll find her on the mountain, I’m a terrible explainer, so that’s why I usually stick with telling my sister what Sheridan has found.”

“I don’t understand you at all! What in the worldare you talking about?” Shay asked anxiously.

“Stay on your route and all will be made clear…clearer,” Phelan answered unconcernedly, but looking at us with dubious eyes, especially at me, which made me feel nervous, so I grabbed Shay by the shoulder, and jerked my head towards the road.

“Let’s go,” I said nervously, “I suppose theywill follow us still.”

My prediction was correct, and all through the rest of the day, and that night, and until midmorning when we reached the mountain (Shay having located a much quicker route than the one that Dad had come up with, Dad’s map being outdated by at least fifty years), Phelan and his even stranger companion shadowed us.  

We stopped our blue roans at the foot of the mountain, and Shay confronted Phelan.

“This is where this ends. Either you explain what’s going on right here, or we’ll ride back and get the sheriff on you for stalking us.”

“Don’t fear. I shall get my sister down here,” said Phelan quickly, and he cupped his hands around his mouth, calling, “Sheridan! Sheeeerrrriiiidaaaan!”

A huge, pure white wolf bounded into sight, its large red tongue lolling, vibrant purple eyes gleaming softly, and fur rippling in the wind. Moonstar shied away from it, but I calmed her, staring at it with horrified eyes.

“What is that thing?” Shay barked, “That’s what terrified our village.”

“Nonsense,” Phelan said, laughing as the enormous animal started jumping up on him, and licking at him, acting like a favorite pet pooch, “This is Sheridan, he has a mission, which I trust he has succeeded in. It is seldom that he fails. Sheridan, go fetch Lady Moya. Go!” 

The wolf gave his hand a final lick, and then bounded away with a heart-stopping howl. I gasped to regain my breath which had been momentarily halted at the appearance of the huge, actually stunningly beautiful creature.

“Moya will be here soon enough,” Phelan said easily, patting his horse, which he had dismounted, “Oh, Devin, y’ can go on now. I don’t need protection.”

“My lord Phelan,” remonstrated the elderly man, now looking a little more collected, “You surely do not mean to allow these interlopers in. Sheridan or no Sheridan, they have not the look.”

Phelan shot him an imperious look, “Devin, am I, or am I not Moya’s brother? You are here to obey, and I say that these strangers are to enter. Sheridan cannot be wrong, look at her eyes.”

I frowned, wondering if he meant me, because I was the only ‘she’ present. Shay and I dismounted, holding our horse’s halters, and awaiting the return of the wolf, I suddenly having to suppress a laugh as I realized that I actually was expecting that a wolfwould come back, bringing the mysterious Lady Moya. 

He did. 

“Phelan, Devin, what on earth do you think you are doing? Our friends are probably scared out of their wits with uncertainty. I don’t suppose you even bothered mentioning what we are, or why they are so vital to us?” she asked, her long silvery-pink dress flouncing down the rocks of the lowest mountain. “Come with me,” she extended her hand to me, with a searching look into my face, much to my discomfiture.

“Have I grown green spots, or something?” I asked acidly. 

“No, no,” Moya laid her long, elegant hand onto my shoulder, and smiled softly, “Sheridan was right. What are your names?”

“Jamie and Shay Quigley, why?” I inquired, “Have we done something wrong?”

“NO!” exploded Moya, “Phelan, what have you been telling them?”

Phelan shrugged sheepishly.

“The truth of the matter is, we believe that you are of the fairy-blood, in distinct descent from Lady Ula, and so you may be able to help us,” she sounded sincere, but my mind had stuck on a certain point.

“I…heard you wrong, I think. Firstly, Shay and I are not fairies,” I nearly screamed in my shock, “Are we, Shay?”

Shay smirked, “Well, maybe you aren’t, but personally I quite fancy myself with butterfly wings,” he put on a regal attitude, and then frowned, “But I’m afraid that Lady Moya must have made a mistake. We are not fairies, nor are we descended from a Lady Ula, and though both Jamie and I would be pleased to help if we can, if the problem is of a magical origin,” the scorn in his voice was scarcely noticeable, “I much doubt that we can help. Besides which, surely you do not call yourselves fairies? You don’t have wings.”

“Wings? Is that all you know about fairies, dunderhead?” exclaimed Devin, “Don’t speak to my Lady Moya like that.”

“And do not speak to our guests like that, Devin,” said Lady Moya, laughingly, “It’s natural that they do not understand. You’ll excuse Devin, he is very zealous in protecting our identity and our persons. A little over zealous, perhaps, and a little eccentric to boot. But it’s quite true, Shay, I’m only 62.37 percent fairy, and the rest is human. You and Miss Jamie are much less than that, perhaps 36.91 percent, or something of that sort, but you see your sister fulfills a prophesy. I need to explain about Lady Ula first, I believe.”

“Yes, that mightjust be a good idea,” I nodded my head, leaning against my horse.

“Come up to our place.”

We followed them up to a small cabin with smoke churning up through the stone chimney, and Sheridan instantly burst away from the group, running to lick on a small, fluffy kitten who bounced up onto his shoulders, and meowed plaintively.

“One of my cats, Brigid,” explained Lady Moya coolly, “Come inside. Devin, take their horses to the stable.”

I noticed the wooden stable behind the house, and said with my hand tightly on the halter of Moonstar, “I believe I’ll just take my horse to the stable myself, if it makes no difference to you. I generally do not trust myanimals to strangers.”

“That’s alright. I’ll tidy up a bit in there while you and Shay take your horses to the stable. Devin, take Phelan’s and yours, will you? Then join us, you’ve done so much research, you need to be in on this.”

“My lady,” Devin bowed elaborately, and then chuckled softly, “Got the wrong people, don’t she, though? Got the wrong people. Milady Ula innit going to let anyonedo it, oh no, no.” 

“Thank you, Devin, that’s enough,” Moya said sharply, “Come, Phelan.”  

Once the horses were comfortably in the stable, we went to the house, shrugging at each other, signifying that we both thought that we might as well wait and see what was going on, so long as things didn’t seem to be getting untowardly violent or anything of that unsavory nature. 

Moya had the cabin very comfortably warm, with a fire crackling in the stone fireplace. A big calico cat was curled up in a basket, five or six kittens in a variety of colors snuggled against her. Brigid, however, continued clinging to Sheridan, who was yawning and basking on the hearth next to the cats, some of whom soon abandoned their mother to curl up against his shaggy fur. A kettle was sitting on the fire, and Moya was setting bread rolls on the wooden table, which she motioned us to sit at. We did, and I instantly questioned her,

“So, what is all this?” 

“Alright, so in the past,” her voice took on a distant but clear sound as she drifted into telling a story, her light blue eyes never leaving my face, making me uncomfortable, but the story enthralled me enough not to shift my position, “there were many fairies, and they lived in the mountain, ruled over by Ula Faestone, the Mountain Queen. They lived in harmony with the white and black wolves of the mount, magical creatures maybe, we don’t know exactly. They had the gift of seeing magic, and they could talk to certain amongst the Fae. Then one day, something truly terrible happened. A sick wolf appeared, and in one fell day the place, the perfect, uncontaminated, untroubled place was threatened with a crippling disease. Ula knew that there was only one thing to do to prevent it spreading to the farthest stretches of the world. She obliterated the entire civilization, but we don’t know how.”

“What?” Shay yelped.

“Oh, it was her only choice, and she did it, draining herself of everything. She died, she, her people, the wolves, they all were gone. Every vestige of the beautiful place she had ruled was gone in one flash.” 

“So Dad was right,” I breathed. 

“Gone. But there were people who survived. Seven, to be precise. And three wolves, they were in a different place, you see. The disease never touched them, but they came back and never knew what became of their families and people, but then this was found.” Moya reached into a ornate box, and pulled out an ancient looking sheet of paper, “Ula was dying as she wrote this.”

“I don’t understand, though. What’s the problem? Sure, it’s a sad story, but that was years ago, wasn’t it? Why do you need me, and what on earth can I do?” I asked, processing this in my brain, “And mind, I’m not entirely sure that you are fairies!” 

“You are right, that was ten hundred years ago, but you see, the place must remain, somewhere, and we cannot find it, and until we do we’re cursed. We don’t know where it is, and besides which, what if more people lived on…contrary to legend, and are hidden by her magic. Perhaps they are, perhaps they are not. Anyway, it’s lost, and we need to find it.”

“Cursed?”

“It is the fate of the fairies that unless we know where our home is, and give some of our power to it, marking it forever, we are cursed to be nomads. We can never stay together in a community until Ula’s home is found. If we were to try, terrible things would happen, and if we are not together we are weak. Prey to humans. But read this.”

I took the piece of paper gingerly, and leaned over so that Shay could read it too. It was written in a feeble, striking hand, the words somewhat uncertainly traced.

So we vanish, but Sheridan told me something strange, that my eyes will exist a long time from now, and that they will find the village. He told me what I had to do, and I did it. The girl will find the mark in the stone, and she will know what happened. I know that the seven adventurers may have survived, if they have, perhaps they will be able to live again, if not, then this is written in vain. But Sheridan has never been wrong, and I leave this so that when the person is found, someone will know what she is to do.

“You surely don’t think that Lady Ula is referring to me? I am definitely nota fairy, even if you are.”

“Want some proof?” snapped Moya, suddenly her hand glowing in an intricate fashion, and then a ball of blazing blue light flashing around us, illuminating the entire cabin, and showing swirling patterns all around the cabin, seeming to bind the wood logs together. She flicked her fingers and the light died down into a slight glimmer, which she thrust at a candle, setting the wick ablaze. Then it died altogether from between her fingers, and she glared at me. 

“Alright, so maybe you are,” I said in a very shaky voice, “But I cannot…I can’t fulfill a prophesy. And what does she mean about her eyes? That’s creepy. And I can’t be a fairy!”

I pictured my face in my mind, surrounded by straight, long, dark golden-brown hair. It was small, pointed, dimpled, slightly snub-nosed, with thick eyebrows, a too-long forehead proportionate to the rest of it…in fact, the only thing that was even remotely possible in my ideal picture of a fairy were my eyes, which were a soft shade of aquamarine. 

“Legend says that the person withLady Ula’s eyes will be able to see the mark she made in the stone, and they will know what to do. You will know what to do, and you will do it, and find the place, and when it is found, we can be at peace.”

I nodded my head, “It’s worth a try, I suppose. Just where do you imagine it to be?”

Phelan smiled, “We don’t know, but we think that the valley in between the very top peaks of the mountain might be worth a try. It’s charged with something strange.”

“But if everything had just vanished, are you expecting it to reappear? Is it just invisible, and wouldn’t you bump into it, even so?”

“Look, Jame,” said Shay, “If this is magical, it could probably be invisible and untouchable, and yet still be there. Give it a try, anyhow. We’re so close to Dad’s theories and hopes, we should at least try and make sure not to disappoint him. We’ll have to climb there, I suppose?”

“Yes. No use attempting to take horses, no matter how admirable, up to those places. Don’t fear, they shall be safe here. Devin will stay here, it’s his hypothesis that it would be in that valley, but he doesn’t like climbing up, or we’d take him with us,” Moya responded, “Are you ready to go? Sheridan, Phelan, and I will be coming with you.”

“Yes, of course,” I said, “But you don’t mean to say that I have exactly the same eyes as my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother, do you?” 

“Precisely that, and through those eyes you will be able to see what nobody else can,” said Moya gently, “Now, child, come with me.”

“Ha! See, I wasright whenever I saw ghosts when we children,” I said triumphantly.

“Probably not,” Moya smiled amusedly, “Are you coming? The both of you, of course. But I’m a little concerned that someone will try to prevent us.”

“Who?”

“Well, Lady Ula had a desperate enemy, and I fear to say that he was one of the survivors, which means that his descendant will be doing everything in his power to prevent Lady Ula’s wishes to come to pass.”

“Why does he care about his so many greats grandfather’s grudges?”

“We of the Fae do not forget or forgive very easily.”

“Well, the latter is generally much easier to do then the former,” I said shrugging, “Surely after all this time…”

“The resolve would be strengthened. You may not understand this, but an ancestor’s grudge against someone is conveyed generation to generation. Quarrels and feuds are scarcely ever forgiven. It is a massive event when they are, even two thousand years later,” said Moya calmly, opening the door for us as we struggled back into our warm, wool coats and proceeded to trudge up the mountain, Phelan and Sheridan leading us.

“And who is this descendant? Does he know about all this.”

“Oh yes. You wouldn’t have seen Innis, the black wolf, but I assure you, he would have been at your window too, and he would have seen precisely what Sheridan saw, and he would report to his master, and his master would know precisely what you were about to do, and how Sheridan would tell Phelan, and he probably knows precisely what we are doing right now. Believe me, he’ll likely be waiting right in that valley, and he knows no mercy when it comes to the quarrel of the ages. Adair is no forgiver.”

“Great, just precisely what we need to further the entire impossibility of this quest,” I murmured softly, “Well, I’m good with my sword, so is Shay. Are you two? And Sheridan is probably a good match for someone. How many does Adair have following him?” 

“His four nephews, Artair, Alasdair, Blair, and Keir, oh, and of course his daughter Kasey, she is the Wolf-Talker, which means―”

“That she is the one who can understand Innis,” Shay interrupted calmly. 

“I wonder how you guessed,” sarcastically returned Phelan, “But yes.”

“So, essentially, we are four people and a wolf, and they are six people and a wolf. Aah, what’s the difference, really!” I said cheerfully, “Besides, p’raps we’ll get there first.”

“How likely is that?” said Shay despondently.

“Don’t be so gloomy, Shayie,” I said affectionately, “This is all a great adventure! Besides, I’m sure power will erupt out of you at the last minute.”

“Doubt it,” said Phelan, “You’re mostly human, and in any case, Adair and his nephews are much more Fae then you two. His daughter, too, for that matter, although she’s about two quarters human. Still, she’s wickedly good with a sword.” 

“So’s Jame,” announced Shay proudly, “I taught her,” he added, apparently taking that roundabout way to inform Phelan that hewas extremely good with his blade, too.

I looked down at the silver handle and the ruby pommel of my sword, and hoped rather anxiously that I wouldn’t have to use it, for I had never used it in actual combat, and was quite sure that I wouldn’t be at all able to seriously wound someone, unless if it was accident. I fervently trusted that I would be able to just block all sword blows, instead of having to actually hurt my opponent. 

Ideally, of course, they wouldn’t turn up.

We slowly ascended up the mountain, but suddenly Phelan stopped, and turned with a serious, dark look on his face as he whispered confidentially, 

“Have you got any weapons but y’ swords?” 

“Just a dagger,” Shay produced the short weapon, and then pushed it back into a small pouch in the interior of his trousers. 

“I, too, possess one of those,” I said, “And I don’t know if these count, but…” I pulled out the two very long, lethally sharp hairpins that kept my braided hair wound around my head, and then stuck them in again, only the very tips showing, and those hard to distinguish, as the ends were essentially the same color as my tresses. 

Phelan grinned, “Those count. Oh mine sister, you ought to get some of those.”

Moya looked at them in horror, “I can’t stand having things in my head. It’s sensitive,” she patted herself upon the top of her head, “Oh, incidentally, you’ll know Adair and his family, because they all are flamingly red-haired. Especially Adair, Keir, and Kasey.”

“Okay,” I said calmly.

Shay suddenly turned to me with a very amused look, “Look, Jamie, we’re just trotting along with a wolf, and taking the fact that fairies exist quite nonchalantly in our stride. Doesn’t that strike you as terribly amusing?”

“Astoundingly so,” I returned, “But…seeing is believing, and that little light trick of Moya’s…I think it was real, so, I guess they are real, and so we might very well be partially fairy. Oh dear.”

“What?”

“Well, Mum and Dad,” I hesitated.

“How on earth could they have fairy blood? Well, it cannotbe Dad. Lady Moya!” Shay raised his voice, “Is it on Mum’s side, or Dad’s side?”

“How should I know?” inquired Lady Moya, shaking her head, “Phelan, ask Sheridan if he knows which one…”

Phelan crouched down beside the dog, looking it in the eyes for a minute or so, and then stood up, smiling, “He thinks that it’s your mum.”

“We might have surmised,” I responded, “Dad can trace his family through all the ages and beyond, I think, but Mum doesn’t know past her second great-grandparents.”

“Do most people?” inquired Shay interestedly.

“I don’t know,” I said, annoyed, “When shall we get there?”

“Oh, not for several hours yet. We’ll stop and have lunch before we get there, and I dare say we’ll have to sleep all night. Well, I brought blankets.”

I noticed then what I should have noticed awhile before, and that was that Moya and Phelan were both carrying baskets, with blankets strapped to their shoulders.

“We can help with that,” Shay said, apparently he, too, having just noticed it.

“Oh, dear, no. You’ll need every ounce of your strength that you can get, in case of a fight with Adair,” said Phelan in an almost bored voice. 

“That is so entirely reassuring, don’t you find, Shay?” I inquired in my most sarcastic tones, vainly attempting to accompany my remark with a sarcastic smile which ended up being its usual, happy, childish look with the four or five dimples springing into action with the first motion of my mouth. I gritted my teeth in frustration, and silently renounced anything but normal smiles, as I had done many times before. 

“Very,” agreed Shay bitingly, his face actually looking the part of a sarcastic entity. 

“I’m hungry,” I remarked.

“Are you?” Moya said quietly, “But, Miss Jamie―”

“Oh, it’s Jamie…or Jame, it doesn’t really matter,” I announced.

“Oh, well, anyway, it’s only twelve.”

“That’s lunchtime,” I pointed out perkily, flopping down onto a rock.

“We eat at one…or one thirty. Occasionally at two, but that’s only when Devin is cantankerous, and won’t cook for awhile.”

“Devin cooks your food?” 

“Or Phelan,” Moya grimaced, “I can’t cook worth anything, even my salads turn out despicable.”

“How do y’ manage that one?” asked Shay, grinning largely.

“I don’t know…when I tried to make it I washed the lettuce in really hot water, and I forgot to peel the carrots, and the tomatoes just kinda squished…but I’m very good with a sword and a bow, and pretty good at light displays,” she smiled shyly, apparently not overly pleased with her lack of skill in the culinary arts.

“Oh, don’t feel bad,” I said quickly, “I’m not a great cook, the only things I can make even fit to eat are orange chiffon cake…strawberry shortcake…fruit pies…cobblers…a couple different soups… some bread recipes…a few more cakes and pies, biscuits of course, but nothing really, you know, my Mama is a good cook, I cannot compare.”

“You can make anything, s’long as you have a recipe. Sometimes even when you don’t,” said Shay quickly.

“Shay, shh,” I said sharply, “I’m trying to be tactful, here, and you are ruining my attempt.”

“Sorry,” said Shay sheepishly, “I can’t cook, at all.”

“Yes, he burnt the tomato soup, and the biscuits weren’t done. Mum never trusted him to cook again,” I announced readily.

“Hey,” said Shay indignantly, “Do you want me to mention that time when you dropped an entire bowl of batter into the soup to make dumplings out of it?”

“It made a very interesting glob of mess,” I retaliated defensively, jumping over a particularly large rock and nearly loosing my balance, but Shay pulled me casually back into a normal stance, and we continued arguing about each other’s cooking, with Phelan and Moya listening with a perpetual, half-suppressed grin on their faces. 

It was two thirty before anyone remembered lunch, and at that it was Shay and Sheridan whose stomachs reminded us by their perpetual growls. After we ate, we continued up the mountain with much more alacrity, getting there at a quarter to four o’clock. 

“Here’s the valley. See anything, Jame?” joked Shay, looking around as if he expected to see something supernatural, as well.

“Nothing, but it just totally gives me the creeps to think that I might be standing on the wreckage of someone’s house, or worse…someone’s bones,” I said, shivering, and breaking out into goosebumps. 

“Ouch. Why did you have to mention that?” Shay grumbled, looking down uneasily at his feet.

“Look at all the rocks around here, Jamie,” said Moya imperatively. 

“Oh, alright,” I said cheerfully, “That will only take a couple hundred years, so why don’t I get started. Naturally, Sheridan isn’t to help me, despite the fact that he might be able to spot something that contains magic, even if he can’t see what it is, and obviously, none of the rest of you are going to search for anything odd looking, because clearly you need to just sit back and watch me climb all over the mountain attempting to locate what could be a fingernail scratch in the multitude of rocks which, oddly enough, are around here.” 

“Right. Sorry about that,” Moya looked somewhat humbled, “Phelan, ask Sheridan to help Jamie. And let’s all of us start. I suppose the mountain bases would be a good place to begin.”  

“Yes. Lady Ula was weakened…perhaps she couldn’t exert enough strength to get high. So, presuming that the civilization was located in this spot, it’s somewhere on the lower regions of the rocks, which narrows our search minimally, because this is a very large valley,” my voice rose in squeaky pitch as I realized the magnitude of our search. 

“I guess that the Fairies lived all over the mountain, but that this was the capitol, one might say,” said Phelan quietly, “Let’s get looking.”

We did just that, scanning the minutest crack in the surface of the stone. It had probably never undergone such scrutinizing, and I imagined that if mountains had feelings, this one would be all astonishment. I started seriously doubting that my vision was anything special, and in fact, I wondered if the problem of my not haveing twenty/twenty was something to do with the reason I was unable to see anything.

I broached this problem out loud, “Maybe I should convince Dad that I actually could use some glasses, and then return. I mean, obviously I can see pretty well, but my vision is not as good as some people’s.”

“Jame,” Shay looked at me in amusement as he intently probed at a small mark in a large stone, “Do you really think that your physical eyesight will prevent your magical prophesy-fulfilling ones from seeing what they’re supposed to.”

“Maybe I was supposed to be wearing glasses, when I searched for it,” I countered.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You can see as well as a good many people,” said Shay gruffly, moving on. 

I leaned casually on a rock, letting my gaze sweep over the entirety of the valley, and then suddenly I leaped up excitedly, squeaking with all my might, as I pelted towards a rough, ugly rock which was of a dingy gray color, and decidedly the most unappealing mass of minerals in the entirety of the mountain, but even more defined as I grew closer, was the slightly glowing shape of a short sword engraved into the stone. Even before I knew what I was doing, I was drawing my sword forth, and holding it up against the stone, without touching it to it. Judging from appearances, Lady Ula knew precisely what my sword would look like, because the shape in the rock could have easily been one half of a custom made case for my blade. 

“Jamie, what is it?”

“I found it,” I said, and then squealed, “I FOUND IT! WHOO-HOO!”

My voice reverberated, and Sheridan whined, but nobody payed any attention, as I excitedly rambled about the shape, and how it was the same as my sword, and if I should place my sword into it, and see what happened, or what.

“I think that’s as a good a guess as anything, Jamie,” agreed Moya calmly, “Place it upon the mark.”

Only by paying close attention could I tell that she was trembling with excitement. I raised my sword to place it into the engraving, when suddenly an arrow sang through the air, and bounced off the rock, landing sideways on my boot without harming anyone.

“Put one finger to that rock, and the next one will not be a warning arrow,” announced a voice which was peculiarly monotonously and meticulously slow.

“Says who?” shouted back Phelan definitely, while Sheridan growled warningly, his tail and fur raising up slightly, and his eyes narrowing at the same time as Phelan’s did.

“Says Adair Faemount! Aye, it’s me, and you aren’t going through any of your little schemes to fulfill that ol’ prophecy of thine,” a very red-headed individual stepped forward, holding a bow and arrow, with five other red-headed archers ranged behind him, each one with an arrow tautly ready to be fired.

“What concern is it of yours?” I shouted at him, “Besides, only a coward shoots arrows from above when his opponents are out numbered and don’t have any means of fair retaliation.”

“I am the great Adair Faemount!”

“Oh, and I suppose you claim that title because your argumentative grandfather used to live here? Is that why you don’t want your home to be found again, so that you can continue being a nomad? Weak, easily attacked by a superior force. You’re honestly preventing us from doing something that would benefit you, simply because your long dead great-great-great-great, who knows how many greats, grandfather had a quarrel with my great-great-great-great grandmother, are you? I mean, looking at that logically, how dumb is that?” I yelled back, in a very squeaky, very loud voice.

“ENOUGH OF YOUR IMPUDENCE! DRAW SWORDS!”

His four nephews, and his flaming-haired daughter all drew their swords, and there was answering sliding of blade from sheath in our smaller group. My sword, of course, was already drawn, which was fortunate, because I was one of the first people to be charged at by the red-haired girl, who was somewhere between me and Shay in age, at a guess.

“Isn’t this the dumbest thing ever?” she said cheerfully as our swords clashed and parried, “I honestly think that Daddy’s a big silly over this whole mess with our ancestors. Really, who cares about what their great grandparents did hundreds of years ago. Still, he wants it to be this way, so it’s going to have to.”

I dodged a blow, and brought my sword up heavily, causing her to fall back from the impact on her own. 

“Oh, nice sword fighting!” she complimented enthusiastically, “Who taught you so well?”

“My brother, Shay. I’m Jamie Quigley,” the metal of our blades clanged as they clashed together in a fierce collision.

“I’m Kasey Faemount. Daddy refused to go by Faestone, because guess what? That’s the name that Lady Ula had, and Lady Moya and her brother bear now, of course.”

“How skilled are your cousins? My brother is fighting, and…”

“Oh don’t worry. Daddy’s so squeamish, they know enough not to give any fatal injuries,” chirped Kasey brightly.

I looked at her in slight confusion as my hands automatically blocked her blows. She was a very cheerful looking entity, with bright green eyes, very short, very kinkily curly flaming hair, a perky nose and chin, and a glowingly happy face. 

“Then what’s the point of this battle?” I inquired, “What about Sheridan?” I asked in sudden alarm, “your wolf…”

The black wolf and the white wolf were grappling together, but I saw no blood, so for the moment, at least, neither of them could have been hurt.

“Innis and Sheridan hurt each other?” Kasey burst into peals of laughter as she nearly sent my sword flying from my hand, and had hers nearly spun out of her grasp in return, “What Daddy is unaware of is that Innie and Sheridan are siblings. They’d sooner eat their own noses then kill or harm each other. Dear me, that was a peculiar comparison…rather odd, actually. Oh, good blow.”

“Sorry,” I winced, noticing that my blade had come down lightly on her hand, her sword having not blocked it well enough, causing there to be a shallow red line across her thumb.

“Nothing to worry about,” she reassured me happily, switching to her left hand with perfect ease and continuing to battle me. 

I caught a glimpse of Phelan battling Adair and one of Adair’s nephews, and Phelan didn’t seem to realize that this was not a life and death situation. Moya was fighting with lazy skill, she having two more of his nephews, while Shay had the youngest one all to himself.

“My cousin Keir is fighting your brother,” announced Kasey, as we turned ourselves in that direction during the course of our almost insanely well-matched fight. 

“Oh. Who will win?”

“Your brother. Keir’s not so good with a sword. I think…yes, your brother must be trying to disarm him. I’ve been trying to disarm you, but you’re as good as me,” she grimaced, blocking yet another blow from me, and, apparently by entire accident, giving me a slight cut on the arm.

I winced, but ignored the slight throb of pain, “How old are you, that I’m as good as you?”

“Seventeen!” she said, “You?”

“Fifteen. Well, I’ve been practicing from a child,” I returned, “That must be it.”

“Yes. Mummy made Daddy promise that I wouldn’t learn until I was twelve, that stunted my ability, but I’m getting better.”

“Clearly,” I nearly disarmed her again, but she blocked me once more.

“I hope someone gets a cut big enough to get Daddy to agree to stop the fight.”

“How will he do that without looking cowardly?”

“By saying that he doesn’t wish for anyone to lose their life, but will find another way to stop you. Don’t worry, Jamie, you’ll have plenty of time to do whatever you were doing. Are you a Wolf-Talker like me?”

“No, but apparently I have a special vision of some sort,” I shrugged, but continued blocking as I preformed the action.

“Oh, a See-er,” smiled Kasey, “How fascinating! Oh, good, Moya seems to be drawing a bit of blood. Perhaps Daddy will look over soon, but Phelan is keeping him very occupied! Oh my, I think Daddy’s going to be cut soon. That’ll really make him stop.” 

Suddenly Phelan gave a pretty severe cut to Adair Faemount’s legs, and Adair immediately screeched out for peace. Kasey was already putting her sword back before the words even came out of his mouth.

“We cannot justify a murder over this quarrel, but believe me, this isn’t the end of this!” Adair announced impressively, as his group shuffled over towards another rock, watching us, as I stepped confidently forward at a nod from Moya.

“There, Jamie, put it into the impression.

Kasey was lingering midway between the two groups, watching me, her wolf Innis at her side.

I gulped, and picked up my sword, wiping it on the ground to remove the slight stain that it had picked up from Kasey’s arm, and inserted it cautiously into the slot, expecting to have to hold it there, but it fitted, and didn’t move. For a full five minutes nothing happened, and then an explosion of light burst from it, as the rock burst asunder and it seemed to jump into my hand, the hilt that is, with about five inches of blade visible, the rest a flaming burst of aqua, royal blue, and muted orange flames. I think I screamed, but the roar of the fire was too much to be certain, it seemed to fill my entire vision, and then suddenly it was gone, the only remaining thing was a distinct impression that I had to pull my blade out of the rock, which was odd, because the rock had exploded. 

But I reached down, and found that the rock was still intact. I pulled the sword from it easily, not realizing that my companions were gaping at the action, almost more then they had gaped at the flames, and I stuck it deeply into the ground, and suddenly a colossal thunderous noise burst across the rocks, and we were standing in the middle of a group of beautiful, intricate buildings wrapped gracefully around tall, gorgeous oak and maple trees. We were all very still. 

Moya was the first to speak, “Jamie, how did you get your sword back from the rock? It had burnt up, we thought you might have caught fire…”

“No, don’t be silly, the rock burst, but the sword never burnt,” I laughed.

“No, the rock was there, you pulled the sword from it when it burst into flames, but then after the sword was gone you just reached for the rock, and there was the sword, in your hand, and now…”

“Your ancestor’s home.”

Shay’s jaw had dropped down, and if it could have reached the ground, it probably would have.

“But no people,” said Moya almost sadly.

“Did you want to see a bunch of…” I forced myself to continue, “deceased fairies?”  

“No, of course not,” Moya said, “But now I can give my power, and our wandering days are over. Phelan!” she reached out, and grasped his hand, and they both knelt down by the rock, pushing their hands against it, as golden light flowed around their fingers, seeming to knead itself into the stone. 

Suddenly Adair joined them, and each of his nephews. Kasey, Shay, and I stood awkwardly back, conscious that we probably were far too human to be doing anything like that. Before we knew it, they stood up, looking tired but content.

“Now Sheridan and Inness must gather together the peoples, and we’ll decide whether to live here, or move on, but we can be a community.”

“And the quarrel is over,” said Adair firmly, “Nothing can stand against such raw power. Jamie, your servants.”

Each of them bowed, and I energetically scratched my earlobe, “Er…that’s alright!” I squeaked, “Shay, we need to get back home. But, I say, if um…if you move, will you tell us where to? So we can…can…”

“Come visit?” said Kasey charmingly, “Oh, lovely! Do, Daddy.”

“Yes, of course. If we stay here, then you know where to find us, and will be indisputably welcome. And now you can go home, and tell your father that this place was a fairytale, and that the wolves were just passing through,” said Moya mischievously, “No need for an entire village to know about us.”

“You’re right about that,” nodded Shay, “Especially not my father. I doubt that Sheridan or Innis would appreciate being addressed as frightening creatures.” 

I turned to Shay, each of us picturing what our father’s extreme reaction to the events we had gotten through would be, and both of us appeared to find that to be a very amusing but rather alarming picture.

“Let’s go home. And stick to the fairytale story!” Shay said in mock alarm.

We began the descent back to our horses, and back to our home.