An Ordinary Fairy (16 page)

Noah stood with his mouth open and watched.

How cool is that?

He closed his mouth and grinned, then laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Willow demanded.

Noah laughed harder.

She dropped to the ground in front of him, stood with her hands on her hips and glared. Her wings twitched.

“What’s—so—funny?” she asked through clenched teeth.

Noah stifled his laughter enough to speak. “You don’t fit my image of a fairy. I’m not sure if it’s the jeans or the high tops.” He dissolved into laughter at the image of this tiny person bristling at him, her neck craned back to look at his face.

Willow’s face twitched, and then a smile formed. “You bum!”

“The other night at the pond, now
that
was my image of a fairy.”

“So you think I should undress to fly?”

“No. Unless you want to.”

“I’ll pass,” she said with a provocative smile. “This time.”

Noah had a feeling it wouldn’t bother her a bit to strip. At that thought, she blocked him, jolting his arms.

“Ouch!”

Willow giggled. “Gotcha!”

I’ve got to learn how to do that!

Noah’s stomach lurched as Willow leaped into flight and zoomed over the roof and out of sight. Her flight speed shocked him. In a matter of seconds, he heard the bar move on the front door and it swung open. Willow stepped out onto the porch.

“Coming, Cowboy?”

My peaceful life is in jeopardy. I like it when you call me Cowboy.

“How fast can you fly?” he asked as he climbed the stairs.

“For short distances I can do over sixty miles per hour.”

“Really? That’s incredible. How far is a short distance?”

“Well, I once flew the length of the woods from road to road, which is exactly one mile, in fifty-four seconds. Rowan and I were racing. I won.”

Noah laid the box on the porch and they entered the house. Shadow remained on the ground with a
Do I have to go in there?
look. Before closing the door, Willow raised her hand toward him for a moment. He barked once and took off, nose to the ground and tail wagging.

Noah found himself in a dark foyer about fifteen feet wide and maybe twenty feet deep. Daylight came from straight ahead, for no wall separated the foyer from the next room. They walked forward and entered a central atrium that extended upwards to the widow’s walk roof fifty feet above. Bright sunlight streamed in through the high windows and lit the space, though the rest of the house was lost in gloom. The open first floor doors revealed the rooms were in complete darkness. Straight across the atrium, a narrow hallway ran to the back wall of the house. His footsteps echoed on polished wood floors.

“Wow,” was all Noah could think to say. He turned in a complete circle examining the house. At each of the three upper levels, a balcony encircled the atrium. Stairs attached to the west wall climbed between the levels. The walls displayed elegant print wallpaper, and seemed in good condition. Aromas of wood polish and cleaning fluids filled the air. Everything gleamed.

Dust is not allowed here, it seems.

Yet, the amenities were absent. No furniture graced the shining floors, no pictures hung on the walls, and no planters stood about. All was beautiful, but barren.

On the second level above where they entered, Noah could see a huge room that extended across the entire breadth of the structure.

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing.

“The ballroom. We’ll get to that. I’ll give you the complete tour.” She waved for him to follow and walked toward a door leading to the northeast room. She passed through the door and flipped on a light. “This is the formal sitting room.”

The L-shaped room had the same beautiful floors and woodwork as the foyer and atrium, and was also devoid of furniture. An ornate chandelier furnished light, which gleamed off the oak woodwork. The corner toward the atrium contained a stone fireplace. Willow walked into the next room through double doors. She snapped off the light in the sitting room and turned on the light in the next.

In this fashion they walked in a circle around the first floor, through the gallery, dining room, kitchen, pantry, game room (with a great bar area, Noah noted), study and the library. Each room repeated the decor of the first. Each corner room contained an identical stone fireplace. They completed the circuit and ended at the stairs in the atrium.

“You certainly keep everything tidy,” Noah said.

“It’s what my parents would have done.”

They climbed to the second floor—Noah counted thirteen steps—and walked along the balcony to the front of the house, where they entered the ballroom. The room took up the entire sixty plus foot width of the house and was twenty-five feet wide, with no wall between the atrium and the open space; the balcony was an extension of the dance floor. Two mammoth chandeliers hung from the ceiling that soared above them, two stories high. The double row of windows on three sides combined with pale green wallpaper to give the huge room a light and airy feeling.

Noah turned in a complete circle taking it all in, sensing the energies bouncing off him. His eyes fell last on Willow who stood quietly observing him with a bemused expression.

“You went back a hundred years, didn’t you?” she said.

“Can you feel it, too?”

“Sure, all the time. Important things happened in this room, lots of parties and family events. What did you see?”

Noah circled around again, pointing out each scene as he described it. “Over there in the corner, I saw the older men with their brandy and cigars and mustaches solving all the world’s problems. On the balcony a string quartet played. There, by the fireplace, were the older women, fanning themselves. Under the windows was a group of young women in their long gowns, tittering about the young men. Who would be asked to dance first? On this side were the young men in their tuxedoes, whispering among themselves, each trying to pluck up the courage to ask
her.
The one young woman who stood apart from the others. The tiny figure clad in a long white gown. The most beautiful golden blonde girl anyone had ever seen. She was the light of the room.” Willow blushed.

“Not one had courage enough to approach her. Then a stranger entered and was drawn to her light. He crossed the empty dance floor and the conversation hushed as he drew near her. At his approach, she turned her dark eyes toward him and blushed at his boldness. He bowed as he spoke.”

Noah laid Willow’s coat and hat on the floor, walked over to her, and bowed slightly.

“May I have this dance with the most enchanting girl in the room?”

Willow curtsied. “You are most gracious, kind sir. It would be my pleasure.”

Noah held out a hand and she gave him hers. He led her to the center of the room. When he faced her, Willow raised her wings high so he could draw her into position. He began to hum a song he thought fit the situation:
Lighter Than Air
. They danced as if in a room full of people, as if everyone danced in jeans and boots and high top tennis shoes on a clear October day in a deserted mansion. Willow’s wings floated gracefully as Noah whisked her around the room.

Willow began to sing:

You make me lighter than air

I’m floating, as high as I dare

Now I’ve found you, I haven’t a care

For you make me lighter than air

From where I am, the view is sublime

Come here with me, where there is no time

Leaving our troubles all to the wind

There, on a cloud, our hopes are all pinned

An hour here is no time at all

You and I, we’ll never fall

I’ll come to you, you’ve only to call

Fly with me, we’ll never fall

I’m floating, as high as I dare

For you make me lighter than air

Your love for me, is all that I need

To make me lighter than air

They floated around the room until Willow reached the end of the song.

Please keep singing. I love holding you.

Noah released her, held one hand, bowed, and kissed it. Willow curtsied in return. They both laughed and Willow applauded.

“My, my,” she said. “You should be a writer. What wonderful images.”

“And you should sing professionally.”

They stood in awkward silence, fighting the return to reality.

Willow recovered first. “There’s a website on the FairyNet called FairyWatch that reports on fairy stuff that gets in the regular media. When that song came out it grew immensely popular in the fairy world. We’ll have to dance again sometime.”

Yes, let’s do.

Willow walked toward the balcony. Noah snatched her hat and coat from the floor and followed, staying as far from the balcony rail as possible. They made a circuit of the second floor while Willow pointed out the men’s and women’s parlors on opposite sides of the atrium, where guests could relax during a party, the ballroom kitchen, the bathrooms, and a second game room with bar. She stopped at the center of the south wall where a small hallway led to the back of the house.

“This same hallway arrangement is on all four levels,” she said. “It leads to the back stairs from the kitchen. It’s also a convenient place for the bathrooms and service closets.” She walked down the hall and pulled open the first closed door Noah had seen in the house. It revealed a shallow closet housing conduit and pipes. “Father had the house rewired and plumbing updated as soon as we moved in and had all the pipes and wires rerouted through these closets on each floor.”

They continued around the balcony and then climbed to the third floor. Here were many open doors.

“This floor was the bedroom area,” Willow said. “They’re mostly single rooms, plus a couple of suites on the south side with their own bathrooms.” They wandered around the balcony until they came to the hallway on the south wall, identical to the arrangement on the first two floors.

“Those back stairs would be handy for a late night snack,” Noah said.

“We didn’t use them,” Willow said. “It’s easier to fly.” She ran toward the balcony railing and leaped over it headfirst.

Oh my God!

“Willow, no!” he cried out and ran to the rail. Vertigo struck his groin, shook his legs, but he forced himself to look down. Willow swooped around and rose before him with a gentle buzz and a quizzical look that changed to remorse. She floated across the railing and landed. He rounded on her, grabbed both shoulders, and shook her.

“Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again! Do you hear me?”

“Okay, okay!”

Noah stopped shaking her but his face burned.

How could you do that to me!

He pushed her away, stalked over to the wall, and leaned both arms against it with his head hanging down, gasping for breath.

Willow followed and rubbed his back in circles. “I’m alright, Noah,” she said softly. “And I’m sorry.”

Calm down, Noah. She didn’t deserve that just because you’re a psycho.

His breathing returned to normal and his face cooled. The warm hand rubbing his back radiated calm and comfort.

“I’m sorry,” Noah said. “I can’t stand heights and I guess I freaked.” He stood straight and looked into her eyes.

I’m not sure if I want to smack you or grab you and not let go.

“I had no right to shake you.” He dropped his gaze to the floor like a scolded child.

“It’s okay,” Willow said. “It takes a lot to hurt me. I’m sorry, too. I had no idea how you felt about heights … or me.” She leaned over and twisted her neck back to make him look at her face. She raised her eyebrows and fluttered her wings. “Still friends?”

Noah smiled, despite himself. “I should be asking you,” he said. Willow straightened and offered her hand.

“Come on, Cowboy,” she said. “I have something to show you.”

They climbed the fourth floor stairs with hands clasped. Noah looked around the top floor as they climbed and saw fewer doors than on the third. One door, the one at the top of the stairs, stood conspicuously closed.

“This level was the family living area,” Willow said. “These are all suites. Each one has a sitting room, bedroom and closet. The two on the south side have private bathrooms as well.” They reached the top of the stairs and stopped in front of the closed door. Willow pointed to an open door across the atrium. “That was my room.” Then she faced the closed door. Her grip on his hand tightened.

You’re frightened. No: nervous.

“This was my parents’ room.” She released Noah’s hand and pulled the keys from her pocket. She put the key in the lock and reached for the knob. Before turning it, she looked at Noah.