Skye opened her mouth and then closed it.
“Take it outside any night; it doesn’t have to be a full moon. You’ll have better luck though if the moon is visible. Find an oak tree, they have some kind of special connection with fairies, or even better, find an oak tree with mushrooms growing underneath. Look through the hagstone and you’ll see the fairies. Guaranteed.”
If Skye saw them with her own eyes, she might be more receptive to helping him in his quest for freedom. With this stone, this method, Skye would only be able to see the cute forest pixies so immortalized in children’s fairy tales. She would want to align herself with the Seelie Court Fae, the good guys . . . in a manner of speaking.
She smiled a small upturn of the lips that had nothing to do with the rueful look in her eyes. “You don’t know who you’re talking to. If there is a way to mess it up, I’ll find it. That’s my special talent.”
Her confession surprised him. Again, he questioned if she was the special Halfling of legend. She certainly didn’t sound or act like someone with any special gifts. His faith wavered, then returned. He’d seen the crystal rainbows glowing around her at the shop.
“I have faith in you.” To his surprise, he meant it.
I have faith in you. Kheelan’s words echoed in Skye’s mind as she stood alone in a grove of oak trees, the Mustang’s headlights providing a dim luminescence in the silver fog. The rain had subsided to a fine mist but her shoes squished through several inches of mud. If she saw nothing after making such a freaking mess, she would be totally pissed. She took a few steps further on the road bank, looking for mushrooms. No luck. The moon was also invisible from the storm cloud covering. Not the ideal conditions, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight if she didn’t give this a shot.
Skye took a last glance at the road behind. Not a car in sight. She must be a na?ve idiot agreeing to meet a stranger alone, and then go into the woods by herself after he took off who knows where. Best to get this over with, another failure to notch in her belt.
“Here goes nothing,” she said aloud. Skye lifted the hagstone to her eyes. Despite her own low expectations, she couldn’t help the foolish disappointment when she saw nothing. She pictured Kheelan’s intense brown eyes, urging her on. “Screw you,” she said to his image. She lifted a muddy shoe out of the muck to turn around, then stopped at a faint rustling.
It could have been leaves, falling acorns or branches swaying but the echo had a melodic ting. She held the stone back up to an eye.
In the misty fog, balls of murky lights with halo rings danced in the darkness. Her hand shook and she was afraid to move, not wanting the strange light spheres to disappear. Gradually, the lights crystallized and focused until Skye could make out four to six inch humanoid creatures with wings.
It was true! She hardly dared breath as they fluttered around at such speed she couldn’t actually call it flying. One moment they would be dancing on a wet oak leaf, then reappear in a flash on another tree branch. She clamped her free hand over her mouth to keep from laughing in delight; sure they would instantly take off.
Could this be a hoax of some kind? Skye put the hagstone in the palm of her hand and studied it. Nothing unusual about it, no way it could be trick. This was magic as she’d never seen it. Sure, she’d been raised in a coven, but this . . . she held the stone up again. The fairies – what else could they be? - were still there, and a hundred more had joined them in a kind of rain dance celebration. Skye could barely make out the smiles and hear faint echoes of laughter as they skated on raindrops and shook the leaves to drink and bathe.
She had no idea how long she stood there, and not once did any of them look her way. Perhaps she was as invisible to them as they ordinarily were to her. A car engine in the distance finally woke Skye from her dreamy trance. It wasn’t safe to be out alone like this at night. She went back to the Mustang and turned the key. The dashboard clock read two a.m., yet it seemed only minutes had passed instead of hours. Her body trembled, a combination of physical discomfort and mental unease.
She gripped the stone in her palm. She had the power to see them again, as much as she liked. Skye again pictured Kheelan’s face at the restaurant, the intensity radiating from those gold-flecked eyes, his determined jaw and the strange tattoo on his hand. How was he connected to the fairies? How had he known there were fairies in the shop? She was convinced now that those voices in the storeroom were trapped fairies.
And the even bigger question-was Kheelan there to help them or to hurt them?