Authors: John Osborne
Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary, #General, #Fantasy, #Suspense, #Fairies, #Photographers
Noah performed the ritual cleansing and blessing of the circle and the implements. This done, he took the athame in hand and recited the circle casting charm while walking around the ring of decorations three times.
Willow stepped forward and picked up a lit taper. She walked to the east side of the circle and lit the yellow candle. Holding her hands above her head, she recited the call of the Spirit of Air. To Noah’s delight, she had not only learned the words but had created a tune for them. The atrium filled with her clear, sweet voice. Around the circle she moved, stopping at each quarter to sing.
Come Spirit of Air,
Come join us this night.
Come help us to make
A Samhain rite.
Lend us your skill,
Send calls through the air.
Bring forth the spirits
Of those we held dear.
Come Spirit of Fire,
We ask for your light.
Come help us to make
A Samhain rite.
Lend us your passion,
Send warmth through the air.
Bring forth the spirits
Of those we held dear.
Come Spirit of Water,
We ask for your life.
Come help us to make
A Samhain rite.
Lend us emotion,
Send love through the air.
Bring forth the spirits
Of those we held dear.
Come Spirit of Earth,
We ask for your might.
Come help us to make
A Samhain rite.
Lend us your power,
Send strength through the air.
Bring forth the spirits
Of those we held dear.
When Willow finished and returned the candle to its place, she clasped her hands and stood quietly. Noah chanted the invitation of the Lord and Lady. The air quivered with energy; much of it radiated from his beautiful companion. He took her hand, and they stepped forward to the two unlit white candles. Noah recited the words of the Ritual for the Dead, recalling to mind all those who have passed on but were still remembered. The short, simple chant ended with a blessing on the souls of all who had gone before.
Willow again took a taper in her hand and approached the two tall pillars by herself. Turning first to the right candle, she lit the wick. “To remember my father,” she said. Then she lit the left candle. “To remember my mother.” Her voice faltered. She hesitated before this candle for a time, then backed away, put down her candle and returned to Noah’s side. She bowed her head, and a small tear spilled from one eye.
Noah had told Willow before the ritual to spend this time recalling her most cherished memories of her parents. A whirlwind of her emotions surrounded him.
I’ll stand here all night, my love, if you want.
Noah’s eyes fixed on the flames of the two tall remembrance candles. They had held steady in the draft free atrium, so he thought it curious when these two flames began to flicker while the ritual candles just two feet away held steady. The flames grew in size and issued pure white smoke.
Wives’ tales say fairies make candles flicker.
Willow’s eyes were wide with wonder and excitement.
The smoke above each candle failed to dissipate, but gathered into cylindrical clouds, lit by the flames with an unearthly glow. Willow stepped between the candles and placed her hands at her sides. Their palms began to glow brightly. Three times, she raised her arms to horizontal and lowered them again, the third time swinging her hands forward to rest one above each candle, swirling the smoke. A ball of light grew from each flame and rose through the air. Willow backed away, while Noah moved to one side, lest he disturb her energy. Her face beamed light and joy.
This was not in the script.
The balls of light lengthened and broadened into discernible human-like shapes. Arms and legs were not clear, but a shapely head appeared atop each form. The shifting figures grew, the right one reaching perhaps five and a half feet tall while the left remained closer to Willow’s size. If any doubt remained what these figures might be, it vanished when a raised area on the back of the smaller one coalesced into a shadowy double pair of wings. Willow’s emotions overpowered Noah. Tears flowed down her happy face, as they did his. She reached her hands out toward the shapes.
“Mother? Father! I can’t believe it! You’re really—”
Willow stopped as if slapped. In an instant, her entire demeanor transformed. Her features filled with surprise and chagrin, and her glow faded. Her wings drooped straight down as she backed up a step, neatly folded her hands before her and to Noah’s surprise, bowed her head and
curtsied
before her mother. “Yes, Mother,” she said in a small voice. The image of her father had drifted behind the smaller form.
What’s happening?
Noah heard no voices from the shifting shape, but Willow obviously did. Her emotions ran the gamut of shock, despair and shame. At intervals she lifted her head to gaze at her mother’s image, sneaking peaks, never brave enough to look fully at her. Whatever words were passing between them, Willow was receiving a harsh and unexpected scolding.
For at least two minutes, Willow weathered her mother’s barrage with an occasional murmured, “Yes, Mother.” Finally, Willow raised her head and her face brightened, though it still bore the look of a chastised child who hopes the worst is over. A sweet smile spread across her features and Noah felt affection flowing, not for her mother, but for him. Willow turned to him and said softly “Yes, he is a fine man.” Her eyes twinkled and he thought for a moment she would giggle, but then she faced her mother again and turned somber. She listened longer, her face now serious. She nodded at times, seemingly with understanding of some instructions. Noah couldn’t read her emotions as they flashed through him with blinding speed.
The lecture ended. Willow straightened her back, lifted her wings and looked at her mother’s shimmering face. “Yes, Mother. I will do my duty.”
What duty?
The shape of Willow’s father returned to her mother’s side. Judging from Willow’s expression, farewells were being said.
“Mother, Father, I love you both. Must you go already?”
In answer to her question the shapes floated higher, stretching until only a thin trail of glowing smoke held them to their flames. The tenuous threads broke and the candles extinguished. The two clouds drifted upwards and Willow took to the air beside them. Higher and higher toward the atrium roof they glided.
What a show!
“I wish you could stay,” Willow said to the apparitions. She flew to them and reached out, but the smoky vapors thinned, broke apart in the air wash from her wings, and vanished. Willow floated near the roof for a few seconds, and then looked down at Noah far below.
He raised his arms to her. She floated down and he grasped her by the waist. He held her close, her head on his shoulder and her feet off the ground. Soon she settled herself and slid down to stand on the floor, but she avoided his gaze. She seemed downtrodden, her wings drooping down her back.
Why are you embarrassed … and afraid?
“Willow, what’s wrong?”
“I’m so ashamed of what you heard.”
Noah took her chin and raised it. “Sweetheart, I didn’t hear a thing.”
“You didn’t?” she said. “You couldn’t hear?” Her face brightened and her wings perked up to flight position.
Noah shook his head. “No, not a word. I only heard what you were saying. It was no secret you got a good tongue-lashing, though.”
Willow laughed. “That’s for sure. I may have trouble sitting for a few days.”
“Was this another box thing you can’t tell me about?”
“No, this was a between mother and daughter thing I
won’t
tell you about.”
“Oh. That’s fair, I guess.”
Willow rubbed her hands up and down Noah’s shirt and smiled up at him. “They liked you, Noah. They said you’re good for me. Seems they’ve been giving us both a few little nudges every time we’re in their room.” Her eyes twinkled.
“That explains a lot of things,” Noah said. “Though I didn’t need much nudging.”
“Same here.” She paused, and then went on with a perplexed look. “And they said the oddest thing about Louie Miller. They said I owe him more than I could ever imagine.”
Still haven’t figured that out, have you?
Noah shrugged. “Well, my little fairy, I think we’re done here tonight. This was the most magical ritual I’ve ever witnessed, thanks to you. Fairy magic is strong.”
Noah opened the circle, thanking the Lord and Lady and then standing aside while Willow sang the farewells to the spirits. Three counterclockwise circuits of the circle finished the ritual.
Willow let out a deep sigh. “Thank you, Noah. For tonight. For everything.” Her eyes twinkled and her expression grew mischievous. “I need to go back to my parents’ room and make some preparations. Mother liked what I have planned. Seems she was watching all day. I’ll let you know when it’s okay to come up.” She giggled and zoomed away. Noah shook his head and began putting away the ritual paraphernalia.
Noah snuffed all the candles on the first floor. He would let Willow snuff on the upper floors, since she could whiz across the atrium in half the time he could. As he put away his ritual tools, he felt Willow’s mirth.
About the time he finished packing, the bubble of Willow’s arousal began to grow in his belly. The simmering began low and grew upwards to encompass his entire body, nothing like a man’s centralized sensations. This was no stray signal; Willow was broadcasting her feelings.
YOU CAN COME UP NOW.
Noah walked up the two flights of stairs to the third floor. The stairs to the fourth floor creaked as he walked along the west balcony. When he reached the foot of the stairway, Willow stood there waiting for him. All her pent up amusement burst free and she laughed uncontrollably when she saw Noah’s face.
She stood on the bottom step, clad in a much too large Hoopeston Cornjerker’s football jersey, sporting the number 13. On her head, a lineman’s football helmet left her eyes barely visible beneath the rim. She stopped laughing long enough to pronounce a long-rehearsed line.
“Trick or treat!” Guffaws overtook her again. Noah stood smiling at her, trying not to join her laughter. She spoke, but punctuated her words with mirth. “I thought you might try to carry me up the stairs again, so I thought I should be prepared.”
“And you call me a smartass,” Noah said.
Willow broke into laughter again but soon relented.
“Oh, alright,” she said. “Maybe you’ll like this costume better.” She removed the helmet and set it on the stair, and then slid the huge jersey off her shoulders to the floor. Under it, she wore a thin white sleeveless teddy that displayed her muscular shape, as well as many other charms. A row of tiny buttons, more than Noah could count at a glance, began at her neck and led down her torso, following the glowing path of her arousal. She struck a sexy fashion model pose for him, wings held high.
“I’ll take the treat,” Noah said, and scooped her up into his arms. He navigated the broad stairs with ease.
The master suite was bedecked with candles and incense burners. A fire burned in the fireplace and wine and glasses sat ready on the bedside table. Noah put Willow down. She stood in front of him, ready for romance.
“Which fairy lesson is this?” Noah asked. “There’ve been so many I’m afraid I’ve lost track.”
Willow unbuttoned his shirt. “This isn’t a lesson,” she purred in a husky voice. “This is when you apply what you’ve learned.” She unfastened the last button and stripped off his shirt. “Think of it as extra credit work.”
Noah took her in his arms and kissed her passionately. “This doesn’t feel like work.”
Noah lay propped against the pillows, sipping wine, with his beautiful fairy lover lying against him with her head on his shoulder. He wondered if making love with a fairy originated the word
afterglow
to describe the time afterwards; Willow was softly illuminated, her nude body a painting of sensuality. The fire crackled and hissed. Noah wondered if she was asleep, but she stirred and turned to look at him.
“I’m awake,” she said with a smile.
They laid in silence for a few minutes, speaking with their feelings. Noah scratched the spot that always itched between Willow’s wings.
“Noah, where did you get your patience?” Willow asked.
“I’ve come to learn patience is a necessity when dealing with fairies, or at least with my fairy.”