Sean Cullen - The Prince of Neither Here Nor There

Finally understanding Og’s intention, Brendan dug in his heels and resisted. “Thanks. No! I don’t drink. I’m only fourteen!”

Og found this hilarious as well. “He’s fourteen! Fourteen, he says.” Tears streamed down the man’s red cheeks as he laughed again. “Only fourteen and such a terror ye’ve wrought up and down the city entire. We’ve been watchin’ yer progress on the local news!” Og beamed down at Brendan.

“On the news? They saw the chase on the news?” he breathed.

“Och, they didn’t know what was happening, sure enough. They put it down to hooligans and freak weather systems! They always explain us away. Makes’em feel more comfortable if there’s a logical explanation for the shenanigans we get up to, bless’em. Are ye sure you won’t have a drink?”

“I was told that if I came here I’d get some answers.” Brendan suddenly stopped and gasped, “Kim! She’s been injured!” He turned to look for her but she and Leonard were gone.

“Do not worry. She is being seen to as we speak,” Og assured him. “She’s tough as nails, our Ki-Mata. She’ll join us in short order. Peace!” He laid a hand on Brendan’s shoulder again and guided him toward the booth, and he let himself be led. “It’s answers ye want, is it! Ho! Ho! A curious lad, just like yer uncle Og! Answers indeed!”

“The boy’s right.” A mellow voice cut through Og’s wheezing mirth. “He has a right to an explanation.”

The owner of the voice was a tall and austere man dressed in a simple yet expensive-looking grey suit of a slightly old-fashioned cut. His hands were long and white and his face was as pale as snow. His features were almost feminine, yet he radiated subtle strength, authority, and power. Looking into the pale grey eyes, Brendan felt from him an overwhelming calm but also a great world-weariness, as if this being had seen too much to ever be truly happy.

“Breandan,” the newcomer said soothingly, “come and sit. Take your rest. It is time to tell tales. Our folk”-he paused and smiled at Brendan-”your folk love tales. You have much to learn and little time so let us not waste another moment.”

“Of course, of course, we should get down to business,” Og agreed.

Rain lashed the windows of the pub and brought with it a renewed sense of urgency to Brendan. “Orcadia is on her way. She’s trying to kill me. We’ve got to get out of here.”

The man rested a hand on Brendan’s shoulder, and immediately Brendan was relaxed and at peace. “Fear not. This is the Ward’s Island. The Ward here is strong, woven by the goodwill and combined Art of all who come here.” He waved a hand to take in the walls of the place. “According to our Law, no Fair Folk may strike at each other within the precinct of the Ward. Orcadia may not risk hurting you because of the dire consequences. She is powerful, certainly, but even she would not try her luck against the assembled will of all those here. Now come. You must be hungry and tired. You will eat and drink while I tell you what you need to know about your history and your situation. Then you must rest for there is much to do.” He extended an elegant hand toward the corner of the room where a booth was hastily being cleared for them.

As he threaded his way through the tables toward the booth, the Faeries he passed reached out to gently pat him on the back or shake his hand. Some simply stared at him like he was a weird, rare animal-a unicorn or a Sasquatch. He found the attention disconcerting. Brendan didn’t respond well to public scrutiny. He prayed that he wouldn’t trip over his own feet and fall on his face. He managed to cross the room without bumping more than a couple of tables and sloshing a few beverages.

With relief, he slid into the wooden bench, and the man sat down opposite him. Og pushed in beside Brendan. A woman appeared beside the table as if by magic. Brendan had not seen her arrive… she was just suddenly… there. She was wiry and lean with the yellow eyes of a wolf. Fixing Brendan with an intense, appraising stare, she grinned, showing gleaming white teeth. “Food and drink, if you will, Saskia,” the man said gently. Saskia nodded once and disappeared. Watching carefully this time, Brendan thought he saw a blur of movement, almost too fast for him to see. Saskia reappeared behind the bar on the far side of the room a second later. Sensing his stare, she cocked her head and winked a yellow eye at him. Brendan gulped and turned away.

“First, I should introduce myself. I am called Ariel. Of all the Fair Folk here, I suppose you would call me the most senior.” 72

“So you’re the boss?” Brendan asked. Og giggled at that, which Brendan found a little annoying.

“No. We really have no hierarchy, per se. We operate in a more or less democratic fashion. I am a spokesperson by consent of the group.” He waved a hand to indicate the entire room. Brendan was suddenly aware of how quiet the pub had become. The TV screens still swirled with images but no one paid them any attention. All eyes were on him. The whole room seemed to hold its breath.

“Don’t let them make you nervous, Breandan. They rarely get to see history in the making. You’re a bit of a legend, you see.”

“A legend? Are you kidding me?”

Ariel laughed softly. “I promise, I will never kid you. I’m too old for that.” A smile flitted across Ariel’s face as he leaned back in his seat. “I think the best thing to do is let you ask whatever questions you want to ask. I will try to give you answers as best I can. We can move on from there.”

Brendan found himself at a loss. Where to start? There was so much he didn’t understand. Although he was curious about his own situation, he decided to start at the beginning. “Where do Faeries come from?”

“Same place Humans come from.” Og laughed raucously and punched Brendan’s shoulder.

“Og,” Ariel said sharply. “He means, what are the origins of the Fair Folk.”

“I know. I know.” Og subsided with a sheepish grin. “Just havin’ a laugh.”

Ariel steepled his long fingers and stared up into the rafters. “My! You have to begin with the most difficult question of all. I will do my best.” He paused for a moment, his eyes closed as he decided how to begin. The audience seemed to gather in around them, and the musicians, responding to the deepening mood, began to play softly.

At last, Ariel began to speak.

72 Ariel is an ancient Faerie who has made many appearances throughout history. According to legend, he was the inspiration for the character of the same name in Shakespeare’s The Tempest.

“There is a legend among our people about our origins. Whether it is true or not, no one knows. The story goes that at the beginning of the world, the Mother created the world in all its beauty. The stars were so thick in the heavens that the Mother could run her fingers through them, stirring them in the sky like leaves on the surface of the black lake of the cosmos. She gathered great handfuls of stars and formed Sun and Moon, her first children. Sun and Moon were brother and sister, each beautiful in their own way and well loved by their Mother. They were the joy of her heart. They shared the sky and knew peace.

“Next, she gathered more stars and pressed them into a vast ball and this was the Earth. On its surface she sprinkled soil and seed, rain and snow, and then she breathed upon it and so filled it with the potential for life. The Sun and Moon shared the sky and cast down their light upon the Earth and their Mother as she walked. Where her feet fell upon the ground, seeds sprouted and grew. Forests and fields of flowers sprang to life, reaching for the light with eager leaves. She looked upon what she had made and it pleased her heart.