Lesley Livingston: Wondrous Strange

They served so well, in fact, that most of them could never return home-never go back to their lives in the Otherworld. Auberon’s Janus Guard had developed such a fearsome reputation that they found themselves unwelcome, reviled and shunned as murderers, called monsters by the same Faerie who’d treated them as pets and playthings in the times before. It was a lonely vocation.

Sonny pushed the thought away and focused on the Gate. As a Janus, Sonny could sense not only the park; he could sense every living soul in the park. They flickered in his mind like candle flames: clear, pale yellow fire-if they were human. There were fewer of them than usual. Mortals, he’d been told, tended to instinctively avoid the park around the time when the Gate opened.

Scattered here and there about the perimeter of the park, he could sense other flames: blue and green, a few red ones. These were the Lost Fae, the ones who’d successfully evaded the Janus in years past and, once through the Gate, now lived in secret in the mortal realm. They did not concern him, and they would be gone soon enough-well before sundown, in order to avoid crossing paths with the Janus.

But there was something else.

Something-someone- different had entered the park.

Concentrating, Sonny reached out with his mind to touch a presence…one distinctly unlike all the other candle flames in Sonny’s mind’s eye. This one did not burn with a steady glow.

It sparked erratically, like the lit fuse of a firecracker.

His Janus sensibilities alerted and his curiosity piqued, Sonny decided to investigate. The anomaly was moving, slowly. Drifting in a meandering fashion that Sonny recognized as following one of the paths of the part of the park known as the Shakespeare Garden. He looked at the sky. It was just over an hour before twilight and the opening of the Gate; but, intrigued by the prospect of a bit of preshow mystery, he took off at a run, following the spark.

When he reached the grove where his “firecracker” had come to a stop, Sonny slowed and approached warily. Drawing upon the magic that Auberon had gifted him, he called up a subtle veil to shield himself in case his quarry had the ability to sense him. He did not yet know what he was dealing with.

He crept close enough to catch a glimpse and still he wasn’t sure he knew. It was a girl. That much he could tell. Even from a distance, he could see that she was fairly young-seventeen, maybe. His age-his mortal age-eighteen, at the most…

He could also see that she was beautiful. Her hair had the sheen of antique, burnished copper, and her wide-set eyes were green. Intrigued, Sonny moved soundlessly through the dry leaves to crouch in the deep shadows of a yew tree. He watched through the branches of his hiding place as the girl moved restlessly, pacing to and fro in the little grassy square, one fingernail tapping on her front teeth.

Then she began to mutter to herself and gesture to the empty air.

Oh . Sonny sighed. Just another Central Park crazy .

The off-kilter mortals-the ones not quite right in the head-sometimes showed up differently on Sonny’s radar. That’s what must have happened with this girl, he thought. Still…he found himself surprisingly disappointed as he turned to leave.

The girl’s voice rang out suddenly. “Out of this wood do not desire to go!”

Startled, Sonny looked back to see her pointing in his direction. He froze, his breath stopped in his throat. There should have been no way that the girl could have known he was there. He was too well hidden-both by the foliage and by the veil he’d conjured.

“Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no,” she said clearly, her voice compelling.

Looking at her, Sonny noticed that she shimmered. Hair; skin; those long, graceful hands-every inch of her seemed to sparkle.

“I am a spirit of no common rate,” the shining girl continued, the corners of her mouth turning up in a playful, gently superior smile.

Spirit ? Sonny thought, suddenly alarmed.

“The summer still doth tend upon my state,” she said, and took a step toward him, her expression dreamy, eyes unfocused.

Summer …Sonny felt creeping panic inching up his throat. Please, no-not one of Titania’s creatures …He stood, prepared to bolt.

“And I do love thee.”

What?

“Therefore go with me.”

Without realizing what he was doing, Sonny had begun to reach out a hand through the yew branches in response to the summoning. He drew his hand back sharply. What exactly had he stumbled upon here? He noticed suddenly the shirt she wore beneath her open jacket with its sparkling pony and rainbow…and the word Princess … Sonny could feel his heart beating faster than it had any right to.

“I’ll give thee fairies to attend on thee.” Her voice, honey-sweet, tempted him with its music, holding him captive in a moment of thrall. “And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep…and sing while thou on pressèd flowers dost sleep…”

The rhyming finally tipped him off.

Her words had started to sound terribly familiar, and understanding descended upon Sonny like a hammer blow.

Oh, seven hells! He cursed himself, grinding his teeth. His friend Maddox would laugh himself sick if Sonny were to tell him about this. Which, of course, he wouldn’t! He glowered angrily at the girl, even though he now knew that she couldn’t see him.

Smiling her enchanting smile, she said, “And I will purge thy mortal grossness so that thou shalt like an airy spirit go!” Then she turned away, glancing coquettishly over her shoulder, seeming to beckon with her eyes.

Except it wasn’t really him she beckoned. Sonny felt a strange twinge of regret.

Then, quite abruptly, the girl stopped in her tracks, and her entire mood shifted. Clenching her fists, she whirled in a frustrated little dance. Sonny watched silently as the girl snatched up a sheaf of paper that had lain on the bench next to her bag. She slapped the words on the page, cursing. “Dammit dammit dammit! See? You see ? You know the lines, idiot! Now why on earth couldn’t you do that at rehearsal? Why? Dammit!” She kicked angrily at the ground, stubbing her toe on a moss-covered rock. “Ow!”

Sonny let his breath out slowly, grimly amused.

A script. An actress.

The fact that this slightly ridiculous girl had actually made him think that perhaps she was-Sonny stopped short before even pursuing that avenue of thought. He was a Janus. He, more than anyone, should be able to tell the difference. Poised to leave, he turned back for one last second to watch the girl.

She hobbled over to a bench and sat down heavily. Without warning, she crumpled forward, her face buried in her hands. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs.

Sonny felt his jaw drop.

He should go. He should leave the pathetic creature to indulge her sorrow in private. Definitely, he should go…

Instead, Sonny glanced around, looking for something in the weathered remnants of the garden that he could make use of. He spotted a rosebush with one last, withered bloom. The petals clung to the flower head in a desiccated clump, and the leaves on the stem were brittle almost to the point of dust.

It would do nicely, he thought, plucking the flower. As he touched the blown rose, it quivered and shimmered beneath his fingertips, slowly regaining its color; the petals unfurled in a deep, creamy shade of peach, and the leaves turned a vibrant green once more. Sonny took a deep breath and stepped into the clearing.

“Excuse me…miss?”

The girl’s head snapped up, and a little cloud of glitter burst from her hair. Her hand flew toward her enormous shoulder bag, her arm disappearing up to the elbow into its depths.