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Sparkling lights appear on the thick boughs of a fir.
“What’s that?” Mae rushes to the tree and the lights fly away to another tree branch.
We follow them. Upon closer inspection, I see that they are not lights at all, but small fairylike creatures. They flit from branch to branch, and the tree swirls with movement.
“You have magic,” they call. “We can feel it.”
“Yes, what of it?” Felicity says, challenging them.
Two of the tiny creatures land on my palm. Their skin is as green as new grass. It glistens as if dew-kissed. They’ve hair like spun gold; it hangs in waves that tumble down their iridescent backs.
“You’re the one—the one who holds the magic,” they whisper, breaking into ecstatic smiles. “You’re beautiful,” they whisper sweetly. “Gift us with your magic.”
Ann has come up behind me. “Oooh, may I see?” She leans close and one of the fairies spits in her face.
“Go away. You are not our beautiful one. Not our magical one.”
“Stop that at once,” I say.
Ann wipes the spit from her cheek. Her skin glistens where it has been. “I have magic, too.”
“You ought to crush them with it,” Felicity says.
The fairies moan and cling to my thumb and fingers. They stroke their faces against my skin like little pets. I reach out and touch one. Its skin is like a fish’s. It leaves a wake of glittering scales on my fingers.
“What do you want, then?” Felicity demands. She flicks at one with her fingernail and it falls on its backside.
“Beautiful,” the fairy creatures murmur again and again.
I know I’m not beautiful in the way that Pippa is, and I don’t have Felicity’s allure. But their words bathe me in new hope. I want to believe them, and that is enough to keep me listening. The larger fairy steps forward. She moves with a seductive grace, the way I have seen cobras dance for their masters: compliant yet able to strike at a moment’s notice. I should like to hear them tell me that I am beautiful again. That they love me so very well. It is a curious thing: The more they say it, the more I feel a void opening inside me that I am desperate to fill.
The little creatures grab hold of me. “Oh, yes, lovely, lovely, our fair one is. We worship you. We would have some of you for our own, we love you so.”
I put my hand to their heads. Their hair is as soft as corn silk. Eyes closed, body humming, I can feel the magic starting. But they are impatient. Their miniature hands grab greedily for my fingers. The scaly roughness of their skin is a surprise, and for a moment, I lose my concentration.
“No! Foolish mortal!” The voice hurts my ears. When I look down, they are staring at me with longing…and hatred, as if they would kill and eat me given the chance. Instinctively, I pull my hand back.
They jump for my fingers just out of reach. “Give it back! You were going to gift us!”
“I’ve changed my mind.” I place them on a branch of the tree.
They turn their most brilliant shade of green yet. “We could never hope to be as grand as you, fair one. Love us, as we love you.”
They smile and dance for me, but their words are not as intoxicating this time. I can hear the gritty hiss beneath their declarations.
“You love what I can do for you,” I say, correcting them.
They giggle but there’s no warmth in it. It reminds me of a dying man’s cough. “Your power is nothing compared to that of the Tree of All Souls.”
I turn quickly. “What did you say?”
They sigh in ecstasy. “One touch of it, and you will know true power—all your fears banished, all your desires granted.”
I grab one in my fist. It struggles. Fear distorts its features into a terrible mask.
“Let me go, let me go!”
The other creature hops down and bites my thumb. I bat it away, and it somersaults through the air, grabbing hold of a branch to break its fall.
