Wings

Tamani leaned back against his tree. “I enticed you.”

“Enticed me?”

“I got you to follow me here.”

“Why would you do that?”

“You had to listen long enough to hear the truth.”

“So…what? You threw faerie dust in my eyes?”

“No, that’s ridiculous,” Tamani said. “I told you — real faerie magic isn’t quite what you’re thinking. There’s no pixie dust to make you fly, no waving magic wands, no puffs of smoke. It’s just things we can do that help us in our roles in life.”

“How does enticing help you be a sentry?” Laurel’s voice dripped with sarcasm, but Tamani continued explaining as though he hadn’t noticed.

“Think about it. I can chase an intruder away with my spear, but what good does that do? He’ll just run and tell his friends what happened, and they’ll come back looking for us.” Tamani spread his hands in front of him. “Instead, I entice him away, give him a memory elixir, and then send him off. Ever heard of a will-o’-the- wisp?”

“Sure.”

“That’s us. After a human drinks the elixir, all they remember of the whole incident is following a flash of light. It’s peaceful that way. No one gets hurt.”

“But I remembered you.”

“I didn’t give you an elixir, did I?”

“You still used your magic on me.” She refused to give up so easily.

“I had to. Would you have followed me if I didn’t?”

Laurel shook her head, but in her mind she knew that wasn’t quite true. She might have followed Tamani anywhere.

“Besides, like I said, it doesn’t work very well on other faeries — and it doesn’t work at all if they know what’s coming. You broke it pretty easily when you thought about it.” The half-grin was back.

“What about today?” Laurel asked before the smile could hypnotize her.

“Are you afraid I used it on you again?” he asked with a grin.

“Kind of.”

“Nope. All this charm and charisma comes naturally.” His smile was confident now. Arrogant.

“Promise me you’ll never try it on me again.”

“That’s an easy one. Now that you know, it wouldn’t work if I did try. And I won’t,” he added. “I like it better when I can bewitch you without my magic.”

Laurel hid her grin and sat back waiting for the comforting feeling around her to melt away.

It didn’t.

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Stop it. You promised.”

Tamani’s eyes widened in confusion. “Stop what?”

“That enticing thing. You’re still doing it.”

Tamani’s confused expression shifted to a warm smile. Satisfaction hovered around his eyes. “That’s not me.”

Laurel glared at him.

“It’s the magic of the realm. It seeps in from the world of the faeries. Helps the sentries feel at home when we can’t be.” His smile was calm and serene now, and a trace of satisfaction hovered around his eyes. “You felt it before — I know you did. It’s why you love this bit of land so much. But now that you know what you are and you’ve blossomed for the first time, it will be stronger.” He leaned forward, his nose mere inches from hers. Her breath caught in her chest as his nearness made her whole body feel limp. “It’s the realm calling you home, Laurel.”

Laurel tore her eyes from the endless depths of Tamani’s gaze and concentrated on what she was feeling. She looked into the foliage around her and the feeling intensified. The pleasant sensation seemed to emanate from the trees, and the air reverberated with it. “Is it really magic?” she asked breathlessly, knowing it couldn’t be anything else.

“Of course.”

“It’s not you?”

Tamani laughed softly but not mockingly. “It’s far greater magic than a lowly Spring faerie could even attempt.”

She met his eyes and for a moment couldn’t look away. His bright green eyes held on to hers. He looked mostly human, but there was something — she couldn’t quite put her finger on it — that seemed to indicate he was much more than what he appeared to be. “Are most faeries like you?” she asked quietly.

He blinked, and she managed to look away. “That depends on what you mean,” he said. “If you’re referring to my charm and wit, no — I’m as charming as they come. If you mean my appearance…” He paused to look down and take stock of himself. “I guess I’m fairly normal. Nothing real special.”

Laurel would have to argue with that. He had the kind of face even movie stars only got with airbrushing. But if he was right, maybe all faeries looked like him.

With a start Laurel wondered if she looked that way to her peers. Her face seemed normal to her, but then, she’d seen it in the mirror every day for her whole life.

She wondered briefly if what she saw when she looked at Tamani was what David saw when he looked at her.

The thought made her a little uncomfortable. She cleared her throat and began digging in her backpack to cover it. She pulled a can of soda from her bag. “Want one?” she asked absently as she popped the top.

“What is it?”

“Sprite.”

Tamani laughed. “Sprite? You’re kidding me.”

Laurel rolled her eyes. “Do you want one or not?”

“Sure.”

She showed him how to pop the tab and he tried it tentatively. “Huh, isn’t that something.” He scrutinized her for a few seconds. “Is this what you usually drink?”

“It’s one of the few things I like.”

“No wonder your hair and eyes are almost colorless.”

“So?”

“You never wondered why mine aren’t?”

“I…guess I wondered about your hair.” That was an under-statement.

“I eat a lot of dark-green stuff. The moss down by the river, mostly.”

“Eww.”

“Nah, it’s good. You were just raised with human ideals. I bet you’d like it if you tasted it.”

“No, thanks.”

“Suit yourself. You’re pretty enough as you are.”

She smiled shyly as he raised his can in her direction before sipping.

“I eat peaches,” she said suddenly.

Tamani nodded. “They’re good, I guess. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth, personally.”

“That’s not the point. Why don’t I turn orange?”

“What else do you eat?”

“Strawberries, lettuce, and spinach. Apples sometimes. Basic fruits and vegetables.”

“You eat a variety, so your hair and eyes don’t pick up on any certain color; they just stay light.” He smirked. “Try eating nothing but strawberries for a week — that’ll give your mother a shock.”

“Would I turn red?” Laurel asked in horror.

“Not all of you,” Tamani said. “Just your eyes and the roots of your hair. Like mine. Back home it’s a fashion thing. Blue, pink, purple. It’s fun.”

“That’s so weird.”

“Why? Don’t half the humans’ stories say we have green skin? That’s a lot weirder.”