Mistfall(Book One of the Mistfall Series)

13. I Used To Like Bacon





So, what did I learn from my audience with Brigid? For starters, the Earth’s inhabitants were like Old Yeller. We were the beloved childhood pet that had contracted rabies. Unless we made a miraculous recovery, they would have to put us down.

She mentioned Halloween. That wasn’t good. It was now July, leaving just a few months until the now ill-fated holiday. My guess was that Iblis or Abel would become the juiced up gorilla that went on a rampage. They were the only two power players in the world capable of it.

There was also the history lesson, or as Brigid would call it, the good ol’ days. We all grew up with some version of the stories. The lesson was always the same. We must find a way to co-exist peacefully. Brigid could’ve just been looking for a pity party on this point, but I doubt it.

As for Heimdall’s sword…I really, really, really hope Brigid was just helping me to get home. I’m not considering any other reason for having it. As a matter of fact, that IS the reason she gave it to me. I was willing it to be the reason. Denial is also a river in Egypt.

I had been walking for a few hours since I had tea with Brigid. The sun was still hanging at the mid-day point. This wasn’t because of me either. Otherworlders can cause an extra hour here or there, the Fae a few days, but stopping time all together was impossible for us.

It seems that Brigid was buying me time I didn’t need. The gods, despite all their glory and benevolence, can really be a pain in the arse. They may think they’re being helpful, but just end up complicating things. Their interference reminded me of the tale of Celestine.





Celestine was the most beautiful girl in the entire world. Being the daughter of a king made her an even more valuable commodity. Poetry and songs spread the tale of her beauty to the four corners of the earth.

Royalty and wealthy merchants came from far and wide to ask for Celestine’s hand in marriage. Celestine may have chosen a well-matched suitor had she been given the choice. But it was her father, a greedy man, who chose her future husband.

The king, looking to increase his wealth through an alliance, chose Drago to wed his daughter. Drago was a monster straight out of children’s nightmares. Tales of his abuses were well known throughout the king’s lands. Celestine begged her father to choose another, but he remained steadfast in his decision.

Desolate and saddened by both her father’s unkindness and the future that lay ahead of her, she went to the local temple and prayed to the gods. She begged them to make her so ugly that Drago would reject her and her father could no longer use her as his pawn.

One of the gods heard her distraught pleadings and answered her prayers. Celestine was turned into a pig. Celestine was not expecting this kind of a change, though she welcomed it nonetheless. A farmer found her leaving the temple and took her home with him. The farmer was kind to Celestine. He believed her to be a gift from the gods and planned to let her live out her days on his farm.

A year after Celestine’s transformation, the king’s men turned up at the farmer’s door. The king was celebrating the wedding of his youngest daughter. He was looking for the fattest, juiciest, best looking pig in all of his lands and heard the farmer had just what he needed. The pig was to be the centerpiece of the wedding feast.

The farmer had no choice in the matter. Celestine would be taken by force if necessary. He reluctantly handed her over to the king’s men.

Now, you’re probably thinking that once the king saw Celestine he recognized her, the spell was broken, and everyone lived happily ever after. Right?

Wrong. The next time the king saw Celestine, he was sinking his teeth into her. And the little sister? Drago married her. The End.

Gruesome story, I know. Willa had told it to me to teach me the lesson of, ‘Be careful what you wish for’ (as it pertains to asking the gods for favors). I didn’t eat bacon for months after that, in case it was someone I knew. I was really young at the time.

Personally, I blame Celestine. Had she just ran away, married a poor man, and had a litter of kids, her body would have turned on her from all that hardship and childrearing. Problem solved. But nooooo. She had to run straight to the gods and whined, asking them to do all the work for her.

Regardless, I had no intention of going the way of Celestine. I could only pray that the gods wouldn’t try and help me too much.





By the time I got down the other side of the mountain I realized that I still had four miles to go. It was a bit anti-climatic.

There were no villages on this side of the mountain. The land here was wild and alive with Otherworlders.

I ate lunch, at least I think it was lunch time, with an overweight Warlock. He had been out in the countryside picking herbs for his stores. I found that my secret existence was out of the bag. It turns out that the trees in the Wildwood are horrible gossips. The Warlock went on to tell me that my plight has become a rallying point for Otherworlders that were tired of the corruption of Abel and The Powers.

He also mentioned that many Otherworlders still taught their children the true history of the last war and not the candy coated version Abel and The Powers called gospel. It was a small act of rebellion on their part.

A rallying point? Talk about a lot of pressure! I wasn’t looking to change the world, just survive it. I didn’t correct him because it was good to have hope. Plus I needed all the friends I could get.

Once our bellies were full, I thanked the Warlock for his company and we parted. With promises of a safe haven by the Warlock’s coven, I travelled on.

The rest of my journey went by quickly without any further distractions. It had been peacefully quiet too. That was until I approached the cave that was my destination.

I was a quarter of a mile away, yet the bickering I heard carried clearly to where I was standing.

“How can you of all people say that?” It was Melissa and she was arguing with John.

“My hands are tied,” he replied.

“Whatever, Pontius Pilate.”

I was relieved to hear their voices. There was no time to think about it before, trying to make my escape and all. They knew their attackers were coming, so I had no doubt they escaped unscathed. But I have to admit, I was slightly worried something bad may have happened in the explosion I heard the last time I had talked to John in my dreams. Only a little bit though.

Hailz was outside the cave mouth and noticed me walking up.

“You do not want to go in there,” she warned me.

I nodded. “I heard them as I approached. What gives?”

“Too many chefs in one kitchen,” she replied in annoyance with them.


Melissa and John were alerted to my presence and the bickering stopped.

Hailz’s face contorted and lips puckered as if she had eaten a lemon. “Awww, it’s time for the happy reunion  .” She turned and began walking away. “I have to go throw up somewhere for awhile. I’ll be back later.”

John poked his head out as Hailz disappeared. When he saw that it was me, he grinned from ear to ear.

“Hey you,” he greeted me before picking me up and spinning me around.

“Hey yourself,” I replied and then shrieked as I’m spun.

He stopped twirling me after a minute, but didn’t let go of me. John held me tight against himself like he’d never let me go. I didn’t discourage him and I myself hung onto the moment as I long as I could have it. We weren’t home yet, I had been through a lot, and this just felt right.

“Ahem.” Melissa interrupted after being ignored for the last five minutes.

I lifted my head from John’s shoulder. “Melissa!”

“Yeah, don’t mind me, I’m just chopped liver,” she said rolling her eyes.

Alive and breathing, despite my worst fears, she was a welcome sight.

“I laughed. “Of course you’re not chopped liver. You’re fois gras any day.” I let go of John and pounced on Melissa, hugging her.

Apparently she hadn’t lived in fear of my demise. As happy as she was to see me, there were other pressing matters at hand as far as she was concerned.

“So where have you been for the past week and a half?” she demanded while extricating herself from my steel grip.

A lengthy story, we sat in the grass, sunning ourselves as I recounted the story. I spoke of the mountain crossing and my meeting with Brigid.

Melissa shook her head, the sunlight glinting off the shiny, honey-colored locks. “If anyone else had told me the story, I wouldn’t have believed them. Though when it comes to the absurd and highly improbable, you’ve got the market cornered.”

The subject then changed to the menial. She told me that our neighbor, Old Man Tamblor had charmed his fence to zap any wayward pixies the day I left. “Oh my God, that’s horrible,” I told her before she mentioned the pixies had been sending birds directly over his yard to “fertilize” it.

We spent the next fifteen minutes speaking of the latest Fae fashions (always over the top), her recent lack of a love life, and the state of things in the Otherworld.

John had spent the whole time inspecting my new fancy sword, thus paying no attention to us. It was the human equivalent of boys salivating over each other’s cars. Melissa took advantage of his lack of interest and brought me up to speed on what lay ahead.

“The Fae won’t open their doors again until morning. Hailz should return with one of their elders. Once the elder has approved of you, then we can go into the village,” she informed me

“They have a real isolationist policy,” I pointed out.

Melissa’s eyes narrowed as her lips turned up in a wicked smile. She knew what she said next would irritate me. “We’ve been invited to stay the night. There’s going to be a wedding banquet to attend.”

My face fell. This is the last thing I wanted to do. “Do we have to go?” I grumbled.

Sympathy quickly found its way onto her face as she patted my hand. “I know you’re tired,” she consoled me, “but a meal and good company is just what you need.”

She hadn’t convinced me. I was still looking at her as if daggers would suddenly shoot out from my eyes and stab her.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” she assured me. “Besides, when have you known the Fae to disappoint?”

She did have a point. When the Fae put on a feast it was a bacchanalian smorgasbord. Your plate never empties and the wine and mead flow freely. If it was a Fae only affair, the night would end in a drunken orgy with moving lumps of flesh lining the streets. When outsiders were invited, they left the sexual feeding frenzy out, at least until their guests had retired for the night.

John’s interest in Hofuo temporarily abated he joined in on the conversation. “Yeah Violet, come on,” he goaded me. “We should celebrate your new found freedom.”

I acquiesced without further whining. My friends had rescued me. The least I could do was let them enjoy themselves. I could wait another day to be reunited with my favorite feather down pillow.

At some point in our talk, time finally caught up. No longer was I stuck in an endless day. The sky glowed orange and gold as the sun began its descent in the early evening sky.

We had to find our dinner before it grew dark. Melissa suggested John and I try and catch some fish. There was a pond nearby she had found when they had first arrived here.

Our trek to the pond was quiet and blissful. John and I walked hand in hand in silence taking in the beauty of the land. Trees were highlighted as if one of the gods had dusted them with golden glitter. Large dragonflies, usually pixie transportation, flew freely here, beholden to no one. The sound of surrounding wildlife seemed orchestrated as it sang its evening song. Frogs kept the beat as birds, locusts, and crickets sang the chorus.

I gasped as the pond came into view. It looked like it was straight of an idyll. Long grass leaned in the slight breeze. Branches of Weeping Willows looked like fingers reaching to skim the surface of the pond. Wildflowers peppered the grass with whites, purples, and pinks.

I let go of John’s hand and ran as I spotted the short pier. My shoes were off, feet in the water as John lazily made his way to join me.

The coolness of the water soothed my tired feet better than any peppermint lotion. I had walked quite a distance in the past two and a half weeks. I closed my eyes as the water healed and nature sang, enjoying the peace.

John’s chuckled softly as he caught up with me. “Your first taste of freedom and you’re only sticking your toes in?” he joked, standing behind me.

“Don’t even think about it,” I warned half-heartedly. I turned my head and opened my eyes to look at him. There was a glint in his eye and mischief was written all over his lips. I would have backed away, but the only place to go was in the pond, so I retracted my feet from the water and stood, preparing myself for the inevitable.

“Wait!” I shrieked as he reached for me. “Just wait a second!”

“Why? You’re going in regardless,” he threatened while picking me up.

I magicked a plain, nondescript bikini onto myself. If I was going to get wet I wasn’t going to do it in jeans. I also traded his clothes for a pair of matching swim trunks. I wrapped my arms around his neck and grinned. “Okay, go.”