Wondrous Strange

He whispered, “My Firecracker…”

Then her own eyes went momentarily blind from the wave of iridescent brilliance that filled the room, flowing out from where she stood. All around her the brightness of the beautiful, wondrous Fair Folk seemed to dim and flicker-and then answer her own shining luminescence like moons reflecting the light of the sun.

Sonny’s gray eyes blazed with fierce pride-and something else. As Kelley gazed into them, she felt her heart swell with unnameable emotion.

She felt tall. Ten feet tall. Taller even than Sonny, she realized, as she looked down at him. She was flying. Well-floating, at least, about six inches off the floor. Kelley gasped and kicked her feet, but that only served to send her another several inches into the air. At her elbow, Sonny held out a hand to catch her before she floated away. She twisted her head and saw a pair of delicate, fiery wings that seemed to have sprouted from her shoulders. They were ethereal, ghostly almost, and glimmering with iridescence and light, like the lacy wings of a silvery dragonfly.

Herne dipped his antlered head to her in respect.

All around her, the people of the Faerie realms knelt and bowed and smiled at her.

She blushed and felt her wings shiver and their strength give way, and she fell back down toward the floor. Sonny caught her in his arms and she clung to him.

“You’ll have to work on that,” he whispered in her ear as he clasped the chain around her neck. Her brightness dimmed, but it did not fade altogether. The music swelled once again, and they held each other and danced.

Later, when they sat watching others glide across the dance floor, Sonny started-as though suddenly remembering something-and reached into his leather satchel, lying on the bench beside him. He pulled out a much- rumpled stack of pages, held together with brass fasteners.

“My script!” Kelley exclaimed. “I was sure Bob had stolen it!”

Sonny laughed. “He tells me he’s actually a lousy thief. I’m sorry; I’ve been meaning to return it. In all the excitement, I sort of forgot.”

She took it from him and hugged it against her chest like a treasure. “Thanks. I guess I’m not going to need it, though.”

“You know all your lines, then?”

She chuckled dryly. “In theory…But let’s face it, Sonny. I’m an awfully long way from the Avalon. I get the feeling I won’t be wearing my little gauze wings again anytime soon.”

Sonny stood abruptly. “Come with me,” he said, and held out a hand. “There’s one more thing I want to show you before I go.”

He led her down an oak-paneled corridor that slowly transformed until, eventually, they found themselves walking through a green, leafy archway, a living tunnel.

“Where are we?” Kelley asked.

“Think of this place as something like the wall in your play. The one with the hole in it, through which Pyramus and Thisbe can see and speak to each other. Herne’s Tavern rests on the very cusp of the Otherworld-like a little bubble suspended, balancing between the Faerie lands and the mortal plane. It is the one place in all of the worlds where the two realms meet and meld.”

When they emerged from under the leafy canopy, Kelley found herself standing on a forested shore lapped by gently rippling water. Sonny pointed in front of them: there, across the misted waters of a still, silent lake, was an island. At first it looked to Kelley as though the branches of its trees were heavy with snow. But even from across the glassy water she could smell the scent of apple blossoms.

“This is as far as we can go,” Sonny said. “Any farther and we would be in danger of crossing over and perhaps getting lost in the Otherworld. But I wanted you to see this place.”

“It’s beautiful. What is it?”

“A place of legend. The storybooks call it Avalon. Just like your theater-you see? Not so very far as all that.”

Kelley gazed at the distant island and sighed. “Oh, Sonny…This place is so full of wonders. Why does it make me so sad?”

He thought about the question for a moment, his head lowered. “Maybe it’s because it feels a little like home to you. The home you never knew was yours.”

She shook her head, staring through tear-rimmed eyes at the island in the mist. “That Avalon is yours. Not mine. Mine’s a rundown old theater full of a bunch of misfit actors and a crazy director. And I’m about to let them all down horribly. I’ll never get to stand under those lights and wear those wings and speak those words.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Don’t lie to me, Sonny. You and your buddies seem to think I’m going to have my hands full just lasting the night. Let alone the next three.”

“Two of which have probably already passed while we danced here.”

“Really?”

“Really. See? You’re not doing so bad with surviving so far.”

“Okay, then basically the real danger is actually waiting for me back in New York at the theater.”

Sonny looked at her quizzically.

“Missing dress rehearsal? If I do somehow manage to get back, I’ll be lucky if Quentin doesn’t flay me alive.”

Sonny laughed. “You will get back. I promise you. So you’d better practice your lines.” He pulled her down to sit on a grassy patch beside him and reached for her script, flipping through it for a moment as if looking for something. He stopped on a particular page. “Here, for example.” He pointed to the lines. “This scene. I’ll read it with you. Now don’t argue.” He held up a hand. “I’ll play the ass-just this once. Indulge me, Kelley. Please? I’m feeling theatrical.”

She plucked the script from his hand and scanned the page to see what scene he’d chosen. She giggled when she read her first line and handed back the script so he could read opposite her. “Oh, boy! No ego there, Sonny…”

“Shh.” He gestured dramatically. “I need to concentrate. Begin.”

Kelley opened her mouth wide in an exaggerated yawn and stretched. “What angel wakes me from my flow’ry bed?” She waited for Sonny’s response, curious to see how he’d handle Bottom’s silly song about a cuckoo.

Sonny’s face fell a bit and he muttered, “I didn’t know I’d have to sing.…All right, we’ll just skip my lines. Jump to your next speech.”

Kelley stifled a laugh at the seriousness of his expression, and continued with her next line. “I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again. Mine ear is much enamoured of thy note; so is mine eye enthralled to thy shape.”

Okay, that part’s true. It’s a very nice shape.

“And thy fair virtue’s force perforce doth move me on the first view to say, to swear, I love thee.”

Sonny frowned and held up a hand. “I don’t think you got that last line quite right. Say it again.”

“I totally said it right!”

He ignored her protestation and said, “Go from ‘thy fair virtue’s force.’”

“Sonny-”

“Unh.” Up went the hand again. It was like he was channeling the Mighty Q, for crying out loud! “‘Thy fair…’”

“Okay, okay!” Kelley rolled her eyes and went back to the line. “And thy fair virtue’s force perforce doth move me on the first view to say, to swear, I love thee. Better?”

“Better…Intonation’s just a shade off on the last three words. Try those again.”

“What-‘I love thee’?”

“Hm.” He gestured again with one hand for her to continue.

She drew herself up and took in a breath, concentrating on her inflection so that she could indulge him in his game. Then she leaned forward and, in her best, most sincerely love-struck voice, breathed, “I love thee.”

Sonny’s face was just inches from hers. His storm-gray eyes flashed, and the dark silk of his hair drifted across his cheek as he leaned in his head. “Perfect.”

So was the kiss.