Fairy Thief (15 page)

“
Because fairies antagonize and cheat.” The man said bluntly.

“
Well, well, Sir — you are just as prejudiced as everyone else — would you like a medal?” Tai flew to the window, which encouraged a sniper to rip into his ghostly form. He wouldn’t turn around. He vanished just before the bullets sailed through him and peppered the already-deteriorating wall.

“
Prejudiced?” How bad could things get?

Wo patted her hand. “Pretend we’re in the Deep South in the nineteenth century.” Wo pointed to Tai then to his own chest. “We’re black and you’re the pink virgin we’re dating — simultaneously.”

Saffron gasped. That bad. Instantly, she panicked. “Well, how are we supposed to get around with everybody hating you…us?”

Tai shrugged, kept his back to them. “Pretend we’re something we’re not,” he mumbled, “like people always do in this instance.”

“
Oh.” Saffron’s voice had grown small. Inside, her blood gelled and began to quiver.

“
C’mon, now, boys — be truthful. People don’t despise you for the color of your anything. As a matter of fact, in this instance, the prejudice is justified because your actions are real.” The man leveled hard eyes on Saffron. “In the Earthrealm, fairies are revered. At one time, on a green island, they were even put up on the same pedestals as gods — but not outside the Earthrealm.”

Tai whipped around. “Get off it, drama queen. We’ll cover our wings, solidify our bodies, curb our magic — we’ll be fine.” He looked to Saffron, his eyes hard. “We’ll be
fine
.”

Saffron hugged herself.
This is for Markis.
Your body is safe, far away. No one can really hurt you. Just remember that, no one can really hurt you unless you believe they’ve hurt you. Well, you can get electrocuted… And what else? Nevermind that — you need to find Markis. You can’t go back without him.
She nodded empty-eyed and vacant, like a bobblehead doll.

“
You need me,” the man pressed, “for when a fairy just won’t cut it. Others can find your fairy wings. Others can smell the rot of your stinking magic.”

Tai sniffed. “We are winged children.”

“
By any name, you will cause harm to befall her.” He stepped beside Saffron, his large, powerful legs hip-width apart, his arms folded across his broad chest.

Saffron cocked her head sideways, looked at him out of the corner of her eye, and grimaced. She moved two steps away from him. “And why do you want to come with us, anyway? So far, this isn’t exactly fun, you know.” Saffron crossed her arms over her chest, hoping to appear tough, but her jelly-legs betrayed her.

The man smiled a real smile for the first time since she’d met him. A long, slow, bone-melting smile crossed his chapped, but lush, lips. It brought softness to the dirty lines of his face. The wrinkles of worry cleared from his wide forehead. Saffron found it hard not to smile with him. Then he looked around at the shambles of the home where they were taking refuge and, as he did, his smile, as slowly as it appeared, all but disappeared.

“
There is nothing left for me here….so why not a little adventure to take my mind off things….”

Saffron sucked in her breath. “This was
your
home?” She took another look around and saw what she failed to notice before — not only was there blood on the floor, but there was blood spattered on the wall and hair strands sticking to it. It was long hair, brown, and glued in place by the blood. Its unanchored ends blew around in the swirling wind.

Everywhere, things were broken. Her eyes skittered over the floor, taking in cracked walls and shattered glass. Something caught her attention. It was a boot – and it was still on a leg. She sucked her breath deep through her teeth.

The others were looking out the window. They weren’t arguing anymore. The man stood with hunched shoulders and an impatient scowl. Wo looked mildly concerned. Tai flickered between interest and feigned boredom. What did he care for the barbaric needs of Man?

Saffron swallowed hard and looked back at the leg inside the boot. As the leg inside the boot was on the floor across a doorjamb, she imagined that the rest of the body was just around the corner inside the room. She hoped. She moved slowly to her hands and knees, mesmerized by the leg in the grey, woolen sock inside the crusted and worn brown boot. The pants were also brown, but of a darker shade. The cuff was raised high up on the leg. High-waters, she thought absently.

She crawled slowly towards the leg. It didn’t move. On her hands and knees, she moved across the filthy floor until she was a foot away from the boot. She stopped. Her heart was not back on the cloud — it was with her now, choking her, and throbbing in her throat. She moved again.

The moment was surreal. Later, she would ask herself —
why, why, why did you do that? Why didn’t you stop? Why did you have to look at him?
But now she didn’t question herself. She moved forward on impulse and a need to see what lay around the corner; she had to see what was attached to that leg. Her nose was close to the boot now. She caught a whiff of soiled, wet leather. At least, her memory summoned this. Actually, the boot smelled strongly of the kerosene he lay in when he was struck down.

Saffron’s hair brushed over the boot when she rounded the corner. There was more blood. There was the shiny, wet gore of partially exposed intestines. There was fine, soft hair that stuck fast with blood to his young, unlined face. Saffron wished with all her might that she could retch. She screamed, then gagged, and screamed again.

Quickly, the man left the window and slid over to her on his knees. Once again, he grabbed her about her bent-over waist, and dragged her back across the room to the far wall.

She held her hand over her mouth and dry-heaved again. It wouldn’t matter; she was incapable of throwing up — no matter how badly she wanted to. She wanted to purge herself of that sight, somehow. She wanted to blast it from her mind by blowing it all out. Then she vomited. Dark yellow burst from her lips and dribbled down her chest, reeking of acid. She looked at Tai in shock as she swiped her face. He looked away in disgust, then flitted to a window on the opposite side of the room. Saffron cried bitterly as the bile began to fade. “Who
is
that?” she moaned.

The man watched the vomit disappear into nothing. He looked over at the unmoved leg in the grey sock in the brown boot. “Well, let’s see. Tonight on the news, in a land over the ocean, the reporters will say: ‘Fifty died today in a
skirmish
in Ackerlon.’ So, hmm, let’s call him…32. How’s that sound?” He clamped his mouth shut and stared at the leg. He had spit out the word ‘skirmish.’ He hated it when they used that word. It was like ‘tiff,’ ‘rift,’ and ‘kafuffle.’ A belittling word that shed no light on the reality of the bloody violence of battle.
Skirmish
. He kicked a glass bottle clear across the room.

Saffron looked back at the leg in the boot. A dead man. A dead
boy. Lying in the room with them.
His soft face didn’t look old enough to shave. He looked younger than she was. She swiped at her tears with the back of her cold, plastic hand. 32.

She was about to tell the man what she thought of his stupid and disrespectful “number 32” comment when she realized she had the man figured wrong. He was being sarcastic, not careless. She clamped her gaping mouth shut. The man was angry. She watched his teeth clench and release behind his cheeks. She wanted to touch his face, hold his jaw in her fingers and make the clenching stop. Then she became supremely embarrassed and looked down. Markis was her boyfriend. Her abducted boyfriend. What the hell was wrong with her? “How did this kid get here?”she whispered.

The man snapped out of his brooding and took his eyes away from the leg. “I brought him here. He was standing by the house next door when someone ripped into him. After the dust settled, I sneaked out and dragged him back here.”

Saffron held herself tight with her arms. “Why?”

The man looked at his blackened fingernails. “Because he was somebody.”

Saffron sighed. She thought again of the man snarling, ‘Fifty dead. Skirmish.” Those were terms she heard at least once a week back in her own realm on the evening news. Shame coated her. Until right now, this second, she had been one of hundreds of thousands, one of the millions, that processed those words with little more thought than she would give for a produce sale in the Czech Republic.

But now she could look Number 32 in the face, and see he was much more than a number. He had been something to someone somewhere, and now he was lost to those people. Tears flowed freely down her plastic cheeks.
Fifty Dead…Buy One Get One Free. Fifty Dead…Dog Show at the Palladium.
Saffron watched a crooked, broken frame swing on its bare wire from a loose nail on the wall. Its glass was broken. Through a fuzz of grief she realized the man beside her was in that photo, smiling. “I can’t believe you lived here. This is so terrible.” She was sputtering.

“
Not mine. This was my brother’s house. My brother, his wife, and his child. They’re dead.” His tone was flat.

Suddenly, a bomb exploded just across the street, starting a fire in the little store that crumbled there. A short scream burst from Saffron’s lips. She could feel hysteria mounting, feel her mind pulling away.

“
We can’t stay here.” The man clutched her hand. They stood together, Saffron and the man, and for a moment they stood face to face. Neither one flinched as they stared at each other. One last tear rolled down Saffron’s cheek. He reached to wipe it away. He slid his thumb over her skin. As soon as he touched her cheek, he froze. He frowned and backed away from her.

“
What’s going on with you? I feel no heat when I touch you. I noticed that earlier, too, when you first came here, and I grabbed your wrist. I can’t even feel your tears — there’s no moisture! And you threw up — but where is it now? And not that I want it —but where’s the smell of it? Where’s the smell of you? I can’t smell your sweat, your hair, your skin — nothing.…”

Tai laughed. “Poor you, Dude — but do you really want to smell this stinky girl?”

“
Shut up.” The man and Saffron said it at the same time.

Tai pouted. “I wanna leave now. Why are we just hanging around here?” He flew to the ceiling and began scratching symbols with a charred chair leg.

Saffron’s eyes were round and full of sadness. “I’m like a movie.” She shrugged. “That’s what I was told anyway.”

“
Yeah….” The man could only gawk at her. He didn’t know what to think. He had heard some strange stories, had seen some strange things in his life, but nothing like this! Was this girl dead? He shuddered.

Saffron saw the shudder, saw him back away from her, farther yet, and saw distaste dance fleetingly across his features.

He composed himself a second later, but not quickly enough.

He’s repulsed by you.
The thought jangled loud and clear in her mind. Now she realized Wo’s apprehension in telling her about her new state. Why he expected her to be more upset than she had been. Wo knew people were going to be repulsed by her. She couldn’t help the wave of self-pity that swiftly pressed on her.

The man watched the girl crumble, knew he was the one who crushed her. He felt awful. But what could he do? He had never met a ghost before — he couldn’t help his reaction. And he’d never been turned on by a ghost before either; it made him a little queasy. He felt a renewed surge to lay his previous offer on the table — trim it up nicely so they couldn’t say no this time. “I know the portal out of this world, and when we get to the other worlds, I will recognize the signs that will lead us to those portals….”

Tai looked down at him. “We can find portals, we got this.…”

“
All we need to do is ask the trees.” Wo cut in, then frowned up at Tai, who was in the middle of scratching out a really nasty phrase in the language of the winged children.

The man focused on Wo. “But what will you do when there are no trees around to ask — when you are in the middle of a barren desert, or lost in a land as desolate as the moon?” He was not being smug, but matter of fact. “I can help you in those realms —even when the portals are hidden; there are always clues. I know the signs of portals. I….” Suddenly, he clamped his mouth shut. Then quietly he said, “I just know.”

“
Oh, ho, ho!” Tai sang, “What
have we here?” He finally left off with his graffiti. He narrowed his eyes at the man and looked him up and down.

The man decided for all of them. He waited for the gunfire to cease, then tugged on Saffron’s hand. “Let’s go.” This time, he didn’t release her.