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.
THE NEW GIRL
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!”
Delia snorted. “If it’s so exciting, I guess I’m free to start going on dates?”
“Sorry.” Dad shook his head. “Not the same thing.”
“It is too,” Delia protested. “Why is it different?”
“You’re a girl,” Dad said, picking up his newspaper. “If any boy touches you, I’m calling the police.”
“It’s so unfair!” Delia shouted. She pushed away from the table and stomped off to the front door. A second later, they heard it slam.
“That’s not very nice, dear,” Mum scolded.
“I was joking!” Dad said. “But not really.”
“Not funny,” Mum insisted, getting up for another cup of coffee.
Behind her back, Dad mouthed, “Oh yes it is!”
Brendan stifled a laugh.
Mum returned to the table. “I thought you were interested in that tomboyish girl with the scooter.”
“What, KIM? No way,” Brendan said.
“I think she likes you,” Dad opined.
“What? How would you know?”
“Does she like Charlie?”
“Oh, I don’t think Kim likes anybody.” Brendan was sure Kim and Charlie would hit it off like a baseball bat and a kneecap.
Brendan was walking along College Street on his way to school when Charlie fell into step beside him.
“What are you doing?” Brendan demanded.
“I’m coming to school with you.”
“No way!”
“I insist. It’ll be an education, if you’ll pardon the pun.”
Brendan protested vociferously until they arrived across the street from the school, then finally gave in. There was no way he could stop her from doing what she wanted to. Maybe he could enlist Greenleaf and Kim to help get rid of her. At least he’d managed to convince her to lose Tweezers while she was at Robertson Davies Academy.
“It’s safer that way,” Brendan insisted. He jerked his head to indicate BLT sitting on his shoulder happily munching on a Cheerio (Honey Nut, one of Brendan’s only concessions to her sweet tooth). “I send BLT off to
