Sean Cullen - The Prince of Neither Here Nor There

“Faerie Sight?” Brendan asked.

“It’s impossible to describe. Let’s just say, to keep it simple, Faeries can see really well in the dark. Obviously, you haven’t got the knack yet, so…”

A soft yellow glow flared to life in the darkness. Kim held her field hockey stick aloft. The curved head of the stick was wreathed in a golden nimbus of flame. When his eyes finished smarting at the sudden glare, Brendan marvelled to see that the wood of the stick was not burning. “How are you doing that?”

Kim snorted with laughter. “You’re so new, it’s hilarious.” Looking at Brendan’s face, she sensed he didn’t see the humour. “Seriously, you’ve got a lot to learn. But we’ve got to get moving. We’ll talk as we go. First, we have to decide which way.”

She raised the club and their surroundings came into focus.

Brendan saw they were in a rough-hewn, circular chamber where three passages joined. Scrawled on the walls was the ubiquitous graffiti. “Dwarfs!” Kim shook her head in disgust. “There are three possible routes and they aren’t marked in any way. Ridiculous Troll! I’ll have to go back up and ask him.” Kim started back toward the stairs.

A howl from above and an angry Troll shout dissuaded her against that course of action. “They’ve arrived at Borje’s. We’ll just have to pick one and go.”

At the sound of the piercing howling, Brendan’s heart raced anew. He looked around at their options. Three darker patches of blackness stood in front of them, three different possible directions.

“Go left,” Brendan said.

“Why?”

“In a labyrinth, always choose the left passage and you’ll come out eventually.”

“Did you read that in a kid’s book?” Kim snorted. “This ain’t no labyrinth. I’ve been in the real deal. Kitsune Kai in Kyoto tried to trap me in one a while back. 64 That was a labyrinth. This is just a few tunnels.” She thought for a moment and shrugged. “But I suppose left is as good as any other choice. They all smell rank. Mould and Dwarf farts, a pungent combo. All right. Let’s go.”

She started forward with Brendan close on her heels. He didn’t want to lose her down here.

At first, their choice seemed a good one. The passage headed straight on with a gentle downward tendency. Brendan could actually see quite far ahead down the tunnel. On the walls, here and there, were spray-painted inscriptions in angular letters in a language he couldn’t read.

“What do they say?” he asked Kim.

“You don’t want to know,” Kim said, shaking her head. “Dwarfs love graffiti. And they love swearing. They’re not so keen on spelling.”

As they made progress, Brendan started to relax a bit. They were moving at a steady clip, and he had to concentrate on breathing regularly to keep up the pace. Kim didn’t seem to tire at all.

The terrifying cries of their pursuers became less frequent and more distant. Brendan began to feel that the danger was less immediate. Kim slowed their pace slightly, allowing Brendan to better study the tunnels.

He could see details in the rock walls, striations, and cut marks. Borje had employed the tools only when necessary to widen the path or connect existing caverns and natural tunnels. Brendan had never even imagined that such places existed. The oppressive weight of the city poised above him made him feel as though he was going to suffocate. To take his mind off his fear, he decided to talk.

“This is amazing,” Brendan marvelled. “How could this exist below the city without anyone knowing?”

“Humans see what they want to see. They don’t venture down here much,” Kim said. “They don’t need to. We’re way farther down than the deepest subway tunnel or basement. But this is nothing compared to, say, New York, Tokyo, Cairo, or London. They are so honeycombed with catacombs it’s ridiculous. Toronto is a young city. Give it a few hundred years and it will be Swiss cheese down here.”

“There are people… Faeries like you in other cities?” Brendan asked, incredulous.

“Like you, too,” Kim said pointedly. “Oh, yeah. Everywhere in the world. We live right under the noses of the People of Metal, in their cities, sometimes right in the open and the Humans don’t even know it.”

“People of Metal?”

“That’s what we call the Humans.”

Brendan tripped over a pile of plastic objects and almost fell. Looking down, he saw a litter of empty cans, discarded CD cases, and refuse.

“Dwarfs again,” Kim explained. “They steal anything shiny and toss what they don’t like. The original litterbugs.”

Brendan caught up to Kim and asked, “How is it that nobody finds out?”

“About the Dwarfs?”

“About them and you and all of this!”

“We’re experts at deception. We disguise ourselves with charms and glamours. We keep out of sight and don’t draw attention to ourselves. Many Faeries live right alongside Humans, work in their businesses and live in their neighbourhoods but we keep it quiet. Otherwise, Humans would totally freak out. Ever heard of the witch hunts? In the Middle Ages?”

Brendan seemed to recall something about people being condemned as witches and burned at the stake in olden times. “They were Faeries?”

“Yeah. Faeries who weren’t careful enough to keep themselves secret,” Kim said. Her expression darkened. “Or assumed wrongly that they could use their gifts to help their neighbours and not pay the price. The only protection is in secrecy for us. And there’s the Sacred Truce.”

“The Truce?”

“That’s it,” Kim said curtly. “That’s all I’m going to say.”

Brendan was frustrated. “I need to know more. You expect me to follow you and not ask questions?”

“That would be ideal, yes.”

“Well, tough beans! Why do you call Humans People of Metal?”

“It’s like this. Our people, your people, Fair Folk, we like to go with the flow. We bend nature rather than break it. We manipulate the natural forces that exist within the Earth. Does that make sense?”

Brendan thought about it. “I think so.”

“Humans, the People of Metal, they break things. They force things. They cut things up to make them fit their plan.”

“You make the Humans sound… I don’t know… cruel.”

“It’s their nature. They can’t change it. It’s programmed into them,” Kim said.

“Still, why ‘People of Metal’?”

“Ah, okay! The thing is, things went along just fine for thousands and thousands of years,” Kim explained as they hiked along. “Humans and Fair Folk co-existed. They had respect for our ways and we could stay out of theirs. It was a big world. Sadly, things changed when the Humans found a way of taking the bones of the Earth and turning them to their will. They learned to dig the metal from the Earth. They made more and more effective tools to carve her flesh and each other’s. Their mastery of metal made them masters of the Earth, and they drove us into hiding. Iron and steel are hurtful to us. When they realized this, there could be no more cooperation between our people. They became the People of Metal, and we faded into legend.”

Brendan felt a powerful stab of sadness. Her description of Humans made him ashamed. “Hey, not all of them are bad. My mum and dad recycle. They go to the Earth Day celebrations. They really worry about the environment.”

“Maybe they do and maybe they don’t.” Kim looked somewhat skeptical. “I’m not saying that some Humans aren’t good. There are good and bad in the world of the Fair Folk, too: hence Orcadia. And we’ve learned to adapt. We live alongside Humans and slip through the cracks. Though they can be destructive, Humans are fascinating, vibrant, and imaginative. And now, some seem to understand that they can’t continue to destroy the Earth and expect Her to provide for them. We just hope it’s not too late. There are those who think that one day we may be able to reach a compromise and share the world like we used to do. Some think that you might be a big part of that.” She stopped talking for a moment and sniffed the air. Satisfied, she said, “Anyway, we have more important things to take care of right now.”