Sean Cullen - The Prince of Two Tribes

“A song? Are you kidding me?” Brendan asked skeptically.

“Ha!” Charlie said suddenly. “The Dawn Flyers are beginning! I’ve heard of this but I’ve never seen it before.” She pointed to the CN Tower above them. Brendan looked up and gasped.

He’d seen the weird extra bulge above the observation tower many times since gaining his Faerie Sight. Even now, he was amazed at how much of the city was invisible to Humans as they bustled about, completely unaware of the secret Faerie world that existed alongside them. He’d never had time to explore even a hundredth of the new locales open to him. Now he was astonished to see Faeries launching themselves from the tower high above, gliding out into the chilly predawn air.

One after another, Faeries leapt from the tower and sailed on the thermals toward the open air above the lake. They flew with gliders constructed of some silken material that caught the wind, lofting them like graceful birds in wide arcs here and there as they chased one another. He could hear hoots of laughter as they carved through the gradually lightening sky and down toward the distant mass of Ward’s Island.

“That’s… ” Brendan couldn’t contain his awe. “That’s just brilliant!”

“Yes,” Charlie agreed. “Brilliant.”

As they watched the Dawn Flyers swooping overhead, Brendan wondered what any Humans who happened to look up might see: flocks of birds hanging in the sky? He had no idea and he didn’t care. He was just glad he could see them. They were so beautiful.

Charlie stood up. “Time to go.”

“Go?”

“We have to get you home before your parents wake up and find you gone. What would they think of you running the streets with a strange young girl all night?”

Brendan’s heart began to pound. She was right. He’d been lost in her story and the glory of the Dawn Flyers. “You’re hardly young!”

“Man. You know how to charm a lady, Brendan!” She laughed and slid down the side of the dome. “Come on!” she called. Brendan cast one final longing gaze at the Faeries spiralling overhead and slid after her.

Through the dawn streets they sped, BLT trailing along behind. Through backyards and back alleys, parks and construction sites they wended their way, seeking to avoid contact with people going about their early-morning business. The odd Human they came across never saw them at all but felt a breeze, and those with sharp eyes might have detected a smear of colour in the corner of their eye. In a matter of minutes, they were slowing to a jog in the back alley of Montrose Avenue, coming at last to the backyard of Brendan’s house. The windows were still dark. There was no sign that anyone in his family was up and about.

“Where are you going to stay tonight?” Brendan whispered.

“Don’t worry about me.” She smiled. “I can take care of myself!” She spun on her heel and, with a wave, melted into the shadows of the alley.

He got in the back door with the spare key his mother kept hidden in a flowerpot on the back porch. The house was still as he climbed the stairs, careful to avoid the seventh, creaky one, his mind churning through all that Charlie had said. The girl was annoying in the extreme, and having her around was courting disaster. She could ruin everything. Still, a tiny part of him hoped she would stay around. If what she said was true, no one else in either his Human world or the Faerie world even remotely shared his experience. Except maybe for Finbar, the forlorn Exile who longed to be readmitted to the Faerie fold. But Brendan didn’t feel he had that much in common with the sad old man.

Another thing nagged at him. For all her high spirits, she seemed to have a darker side. He’d seen it in her eyes when she was sitting at the table with his family. He wanted to ask her more questions about how she’d managed to survive and who the mysterious teacher who had helped her might be.

He stopped in the upstairs hall, his feet savouring each fibre of the old oriental runner carpet beneath them. The house was silent save for the soft snoring of his father down the hall and the occasional creak of the settling house. He suddenly felt a rush of affection for his family, his home. Poor Charlie. She has never had this feeling.

He almost felt like crying. He wished he could stay in this moment forever, still aglow from the night run and cocooned in the soft warmth of the house and the darkness. He was full of contentment, his worries at a distance for the time being.

Desperate to hold on to this feeling, he climbed the stairs to his attic room. Faeries may not need sleep but he didn’t feel like working on his meditation skills after the night he’d had. He was looking forward to closing his eyes while his soul was still aglow and carrying these feelings with him into his dreams.

He was so intent on getting up the stairs, he didn’t notice that the bathroom door was open a crack and his sister’s blue eye watched him as he disappeared up the stairs into his room.

^ 34 Silkie as in the Water Folk who are related to Faeries and live in the rivers and lakes of the world. Not silky as in smooth to the touch, although Oona was quite silky to the touch. But if I’d meant that kind of silky I wouldn’t have spelled it Silkie, would I?

^ 35 Brittany is a region in France where Celtic traditions have held on to this day. They have their own language called Breton and they have lovely crepes. I like the ones with sugar and lemon, but that isn’t important right now.

^ 36 Dolphins are notorious for their sharp tongues and bad jokes. One dolphin even made it to the finals of Last Comic Standing before having to drop out because his blowhole became chapped.

^ 37 Hochelaga is indeed the original name for Montreal. It is an Iroquoian word meaning “Beaver Dam” or “Beaver Lake.” When Europeans fi rst arrived in the area, the place was ruled by a race of giant, intelligent beavers. A bitter battle was fought before the French fi nally drove the beavers out. Many a French soldier Was furiously tail-slapped and gnawed on that fateful day.

^ 38 Not all priests are so nasty, but they are by nature a little suspicious. I once did a card trick at a parish potluck dinner that earned me some fearful glances from Father Garvey.

Monday was never Brendan’s favourite day of the week. This particular Monday was even more of a bummer because of how it started off. His parents trapped him at the breakfast table and grilled him about his new girlfriend. He’d thought he had answered enough questions after he got back from walking Charlie “home,” but his parents were determined to find new ways to torment him.

“What do her parents do?” Mum asked.

“I don’t know,” Brendan said.

“Have you met them yet?”

“No!”

“Why not?” his dad wondered. “Are they criminals? Murderers? I know! They’re in the Mafia!”

“Dad!” Brendan pleaded.

“Edward, please!” his mother scolded. “We’re just trying to get to know this girl. You hadn’t even mentioned her before, and here she is on our doorstep. What’s with the secrecy?”

“What’s with it? Listen to yourselves. You’re all over me about it. It’s embarrassing!”

Dad put on a mockingly tearful face, dabbing his eyes with a napkin. “Our little boy! He’s all growed up, dear!”

Mum slapped him on the arm. “Stop teasing him, Edward. You’re making him uncomfortable.”

“And what are you doing? It’s like a CIA interrogation! Who are they? Where do they live? What’s their income? Do they have any pets? Communicable diseases? What’s their inoculation history?”

“I’m not that bad,” Mum protested. “I’m just interested. I’m excited. Brendan’s first girlfriend!”