Faery clans often met for these occasions, even mingling with the goblins and elves. And when they came back from their pranking, they would enjoy bonfires, feasting, and dancing, until the sun rose over the hills.
It sounded like such fun, such a good opportunity to flirt with young men without being watched and lectured every moment. Other girls were allowed. The rules were lax on that night—unless you had Keely’s mother.
That night, as soon as her mother fell asleep, Keely snuck out to hurry toward the revels. She met with a large band of faeries just as they were making off with a basket of cakes, and they welcomed her into their fold.
All through the night, Keely had her eye on one young man in particular. She had never seen him before, so he must be from a far flung clan. His clothes were plain, but superbly fitted, and he needed no adornment in any case, for he was certainly one of the loveliest young men she had ever seen. Golden hair, blue eyes, full lips, broad shoulders… She was already dreaming of what it would be like to kiss him tonight. Her first kiss.
Her mother had told her to be careful of young men, to protect her maidenhood, but Keely was just an innocent—what did she know of the charms of young men?
He had a few friends with him, not as handsome as he was, though not bad either. She approached him with a few of her own friends, and soon he had asked her for a dance, as her friends paired off with his friends.
From the first moment, he held her like she had never been held, and gazed at her like she had never been gazed at.
“Where are you from?” he asked her.
“The south,” he said, vaguely.
“Have you come a long way?”
“Long enough.”
“Will you be staying for a time?”
“That depends…” He smiled, and she smiled back, and tried to muster every feminine charm in her arsenal, because she certainly hoped he would stay.
Her friends had moved on to other men, but Keely was losing herself.
“What is your name, sir?” A few dances in, they stopped to catch their breath, and she realized that she didn’t even know it.
“Rowan.”
A common enough name. She nodded, sipping wine, growing a bit tipsy. “Keely.”
“Where do you live, Keely?”
“On the riverbank. We’re water faeries, my mother and I.”
“That explains the blue of your eyes.”
He danced with her for most of the night, and although their conversation remained light and witty, she felt she knew him by the end. She quickly she grew comfortable with the touch of his hands, his dimpled smile, the way he arched one brow at her.
One of her friends tried to pull her away from him. “You ought to be careful of him, Keely. No one’s sure where he and his friends came from and he’s been monopolizing you all night.”
“And what if he is? Isn’t that what such a night is for? Falling in love?”
“But surely he won’t stay. You should dance with one of the young men we know well.”
Keely shook her head. “I know them too well. I have never met a man like him.”
She started to avoid her friends, because she knew they would keep an eye on her to keep her from getting in trouble with her strict mother. She pulled Rowan away, in the shadows of rocks and brush, away from the party.
She started complaining to him about all the problems of her young life, how her mother never let her have any fun, how life by the river was so boring, how she had always wondered what the southlands were like…
It seemed likely that he hadn’t listened to a word she said, and it didn’t matter anyway. He brushed back a lock of her hair and kissed her.
She melted into that kiss. His hands went around her, his strong warm body like nothing she had ever felt.
“Beautiful,” he said, and no one had ever said that to her before either. She was pretty enough for a faery but hardly the most beautiful girl in the clan.
Soon, he had swept her into his arms and put her down upon the grasses. She looked at his golden face, his hair glowing with moonlight. She knew something was going to happen.
“I’m scared,” she said.
“Scared of what? Surely not of me.”
“No…I…I suppose I’m scared of what my mother will say.”
“Well, she isn’t here, is she?” He laughed. His hand stroked her bare leg, reaching beneath her skirts.
“I’m scared you’ll hurt me.”
“I’ll be very gentle with you, pretty one. Unless you’re too scared…”
“Oh, no, no…” Keely was scared, but not too scared. She wanted to know more of him.
He hitched up her skirts.
When it was over, he gave her a sachet and said, “You should brew that into a tea, otherwise you might find yourself with a babe.”
“Oh—but—where will you be? What if we wanted a babe?”
He laughed. “We certainly don’t.”
“You aren’t going back to the southlands, are you? After this?”
“It’s Beltane night,” he said. “This is not the night you find the man you’ll marry. It’s the night you enjoy yourself.”
“But—I love you!”
He kneaded the bridge of his nose. “You certainly don’t, be sure of that.” Then he crouched on one knee before her, took her hand, and said, “It was a wonderful night. I’d do it again. But I’m young and so are you. And I don’t think you really want to be my bride.”
“I—I do…I…”
He patted her head but then left in rather a hurry, and at this point Keely started to sob in earnest. One of her friends found her and started scolding her. “There you are! We were all looking for you! You didn’t do anything with that strange man, did you?”
“No, I didn’t,” Keely said, realizing now that she had been stupid. She had to pull herself together.
She went home, where her mother was waiting, already looking skeptical.
Keely’s mother was no ordinary woman. She was the most powerful water witch for a hundred miles in any direction, and Keely was her only child. Her only disappointment with her beautiful daughter was that she was so gullible, so eager to be liked…and no great talent with magic, either.
Well, in fact, there were quite a few reasons to be disappointed in Keely. But her mother still loved her as fiercely as any mother ever loved a daughter…or at least, she loved the idea of what Keely might be molded into, if she would only behave herself.
“I hope it went all right,” she said.
“It did…”
“You look very pale.” Her mother sniffed. “I smell something.”
Keely was horrified. Could her mother smell what she had done?
But no, it was the herbs her mother smelled. She used them for spells at times, herself. She reached in Keely’s pocket and took out the satchet. “What’s this?”
Keely tried to make up excuses, but her mother found out the truth in no time, and she flew into a rage. She made the brook that flowed just outside their door churn and roll, and then she grabbed her cloak and shoved open the door.
“Where are you going?” Keely cried.
“To find him!”