It hurt. It hurt just to breathe, my head throbbed in rhythm with my heart, thumping and bumping.
I was bumping along in what smelled like a cart – an old horse-drawn cart that had last hauled potatoes and carrots. It smelled like warm earth for a minute, just a minute, before the dark stench of my brother wafted back to me.
My arms were tied tightly behind my back and my feet were numb. I shivered; it was cold in the breeze. The old wood pressed into my side and cheek, splinters scratching me as the cart swayed on the rocky path.
I finally forced my eyes open a little, just a slit, to see if it was day or night. The old moon curved in a thin crescent over black mountains, dropping out of sight as the glow on the horizon signaled the bare beginnings of a red dawn.
The cart must have hit a particularly large rock, it bounced violently and my head hit the boards again. I whimpered quietly, but not quietly enough. The cart stopped abruptly under a twisted old oak, just budding out in the new leaves of spring.
Rough hands grabbed me by the hair and lifted my head up. I forced myself to stay limp, eyes closed, as Tyn twisted my hair around his hand and pulled harder, dragging my body until I was twisted half round in the bottom of the cart. Abruptly, he let go and my head bounced on the floorboards again.
Since I didn’t flinch, he kicked me twice, hard, before climbing back over the seat and twitching the reins. The old horse didn’t move.
“Bloody stinking animal” Tyn hissed, “I’ll show you who’s the boss around here.”
The cart lurched hard, left, right, left as he climbed back out, stomping around to the front of the horse and I heard the heavy blows as he hit the poor old thing again and again, alternating with grunting as he tried to pull the horse forward. The cart didn’t move. I hazarded another bare glance through the crack under the seat as Tyn raised his fist to hit the horse again. It was then that the cat struck, dropping silently from the branch above his head, gripping him by his springy mess of curls with its back claws and striking at his eyes with the front.
“Aaarrrrgggghhhhhh” he screamed, dancing around and grabbing at the black cat that seemed glued to his bright curls. “Bloody stinking animals…” his screams settled into steady cursing as blood ran down his cheeks and dripped on his gray shirt, on to the ground. He couldn’t get a grip on the cat, every time he reached up, it clawed him again, methodically. Its eyes glittered yellow in the dawn.
I wiggled, trying to get to the back of the cart. I wasn’t going to wait around to find out what he’d planned to do with me. If I could just roll off the cart, maybe I could get into the brush next to the rutted track. From what little I could see of it, it looked thick enough to hide me for at least a few moments. I whimpered again, the effort of moving nearly blinding me with pain.
Shhhh, shhhh.
I looked up, squinting, as the oak shushed me.
No, it wasn’t the oak; it was the little brown man standing in the branches, nearly hidden in the new leaves. His long hair and tangled beard were the color of fallen leaves, his large hat, breeches and shirt were as green and soft as the moss on the bark on the north side of the oak. Knee high boots were like my own moccasins, beaded in turquoise and gold thread, but winding in a strange pattern, not like mine at all. The knife in his hand looked as sharp as Grandfather’s Civil War sword, the one that hung above the fireplace back home. It was as long as his forearm, dark with silver runes inscribed along its length. I only recognized a few, most were in an unfamiliar script. They glowed softly, just like his eyes glowed as he watched Tyn battling to get the black cat off his head.
Swinging down, he landed lightly in the cart.
With a quick swipe, he cut the cords binding my ankles and motioned me to roll onto my side. It was just a moment before my hands were also free, but the blade barely nicked my wrist and it heated up rapidly, blindingly hot and bright.
“Ayyyy, she likes your blood a bit too well, little one. Ah, but it was just a taste, she comes away freely. Quickly, we must go before he notices that you are free,” he murmured, jerking the blade away from me and nodding upward. I rubbed my feet, trying to get some feeling back in them as he looked back toward Tyn.
“We have no time left, come!”
I tried to stand and failed, my numb legs couldn’t hold me up. With an impatient grunt, he grabbed me by the waist, lifting and thrusting me upward. More strong brown hands reached down and sucked me up among the new leaves. My rescuer leaped upward, just as the cat bounded away, running down the track just ahead of the horse and cart Somehow the old horse managed to escape Tyn’s grip.
It was too bad that the cart didn’t run him over. I sighed, I was never lucky like that. Grandfather would have rapped me up side my head for that thought, but he wasn’t here. I sighed again.
A giggle warmed my ear and I knew it wasn’t “somehow” the horse had come loose. It had a little help from the bright-eyed child leaning over my shoulder, pointing with a sharp finger at the horse and chanting under her breath.
Tyn stood in the middle of the track, alone, and his curses rang in the brightness of the new morning.
We were already racing away through the forest, along an aerial walkway that swung between the trees. The young girl and another so like her that I thought they were twins helped me along. Barely able to walk, I had trouble keeping up with the group. My rescuer was in the lead, taking a quick pace away from the oak, as if there was still danger from the track, where Tyn was beating the bushes, looking for me.
A black cat streaked between my legs and I stumbled, nearly falling. Only the girls’ support kept me on my feet. The two youngsters were at least a head shorter than me, but they hustled right along as my feet grew pins and needles and then painfully began to work again.
“Bloody good thing you got that baboso stopped in time, we weren’t looking forward to rescuing you up the road in the Queen’s territory.”
Gasping with effort and trying not to show the pain that brought tears to my eyes, my curiosity overcame the agony of my head and feet. “Queen?”
“Yeah, you know, Queen Maeb. She’s not a nice person at all, you really don’t want to met her.”
Her daintily pointed ears perked up. “Well, that’s how she styles herself, anyway, the old biddy. She thinks she runs us Duende, but we have our own ways and that doesn’t include being the old one’s lackeys.”
In spite of the growing pain in my head, I snickered a little at her indignation at being anyone’s “lackey”.
“So, how did that nasty creature catch you? We know you were well warded when you left home, so he must have caught you somewhere unawares.” Her pert questions made me squirm a little in embarrassment.
“Well, I was at Granddad’s castle...”
She looked at me incredulously, “You were at the castle? No one is allowed to go there, it is forbidden.”
She repeated firmly. “Forbidden. Granddad doesn’t allow anyone to go to his castle, it is hidden somewhere in the world of humans while his daughter, Nimue, waits out her exile.” She looked sideways up at me, “You know he didn’t have to go with her into exile? He could have stayed here instead.”
The world of humans?
I hesitated, then shrugged mentally, “Well, I slipped and fell and when I woke up, I was bouncing along in a cart, so I suppose it must’ve been in Granddad’s castle.”
She stopped so abruptly that I nearly fell over her.
“What?”
She stared up at me in disbelief, her vowels rounding into the familiar Spanish of my childhood, “There is a traitor among Granddad’s people?”
“I don’t know.”
She grabbed me and took off like a shot, if I thought we were moving quickly before, it was nothing compared to the pace she set after my revelation. Even her silent sister, if sister she was, had a hard time keeping the pace.
“Ayyyy,” she lapsed into Spanish, “Madre de Dios, Papa se pondrá furioso cuando oye la noticia.”
I was trying to listen and keep up with her and smell the trees and lands around us. If I stayed focused, I might not vomit.
Everything was familiar, yet unfamiliar. Brighter, fresher, the sweet smells of pansies, roses, the vanilla of the Ponderosa pine we passed under. It all looked fresh and new, even the scents were fresher than fresh, but the underlying sense was old, old, old, an ancient place that reeked of power and Fae.
I hesitated and finally decided that I should ask, even if it made me look stupider than I already felt.
“Um, where are we?”
She looked at me with pity before she replied, “You’re in the Green Lands.”
I took a deep breath and tried to find some calm. It just made my head hurt more than it already did.
“Yes, and I’d surely like to know how you got here” A voice behind us, “You’re not supposed to be here.” He caught up to and passed us, eyeing me with hostile grey eyes. “The Great Ones don’t allow humans to pass through the gates.”
I looked him up and down, suppressing my pain and nausea. Tall, hard bodied, grey eyes, tanned, black hair worn back in a finely woven band, pointed ears, he was a handsome sight for a woman’s starving eyes. Too bad his face was stern and hard, the generous lips pressed together in anger. I wanted to see his smile, to see if the hard lines softened.
No such luck.
He frowned at me again and started past us.
Suddenly, a shrill whistle tweeted overhead. My escorts threw themselves down, dragging me with them. He turned back and ducking, threw his red cloak over us all.
“Be still woman” he ordered in a whisper so soft that a human would never have been able to hear it.
I was acutely aware of his warm body pressing me down into the path, strong arms holding some of his weight off me so I could breath. I focused. I didn’t want him to notice that I wasn’t human. According to the legends I’d studied with Grandfather, being neither Fae nor human could be fatal in the Green Lands.
A crow cawed, echoing in the distance. The forest went silent, as if all were holding their breath, trying to escape notice. An ant crawled slowly across my nose. It tickled, but I didn’t dare move, I could barely breath with the three Fae piled on and around me.
The cawing grew distant, the echoing voice fading, until at last even my sharp ears couldn’t hear it any more.
“Up!” The cloak swirled off me and he stood, grabbing me by the shoulder and pulling me up, stopping when I gasped in pain.
“What woman?” He demanded, “What’s wrong with you?”
The pain radiated down my arm, I couldn’t speak.
“She was injured and we haven’t had time to stop and care for her wounds.”
Long fingers suddenly became gentle as he carefully felt my shoulder, ran his fingers through my hair. I winced at the bruises but stayed silent as he finished.
“And you’ve been running her down the path? Ayyy, foolish children, here, let me take her now.” He leaned down and swooped me up in his arms.
His face softened a little in his concern. “We canna have her in this condition, let’s get home where we can properly care for her.”
He strode off, not waiting for an answer.
“Relax woman, none here will harm you. You’re among the Duende, they do no harm to those placed in their care.” He smelled like vanilla and cinnamon, warm like the old pine on a sunny day. I shivered.
“Are you cold?”
I didn’t answer but he wrapped the cloak around me, blocking the cool morning breeze. My head throbbed and I felt nauseous. I closed my eyes, wishing I was back at Great grandfather’s compound instead of being carried through a forest by a stranger. Green Land or not, I wanted to go home.
Soft voices penetrated the fog of misery and pain when he finally stopped. Gentle hands moved me from strong arms to soft cushions. A damp cloth wiped the dirt from my face, neck, arms.
The clink of a glass and liquid made me thirstier than I already was. “Stop brother, ‘tis not safe to give her food or drink, lest she be left behind by the flowing tides of time.”
“Nay sister, look what she carries. She is tied to the Land and her time is separate from ours. ‘Tis safe.” His voice was deep and gentle, I wanted to open my eyes to see his face but I was afraid if I moved my head, I’d toss my cookies right then and there. I didn’t want to be seen that way by any Fae, let alone a handsome one that made me wish I was pretty. Petite and exotic I am, but not pretty.
A hand behind my head raised me enough to drink a little. I was parched, but I turned my head and tried to push the cup away.
“Nay, little wolf, take of the nectar, ‘tis safe enough for you.”
Smooth honey-flavored liquor flowed drop by drop over parched lips, warm and soothing. Everything around me faded and I slipped into a deep sleep even as a woman’s voice shooed the other Fae away.
