The Hillock of Faeriaye
They kept close on the trail. Even without clear prints in the ground, the deer left enough broken brush to point the way they had gone.
Marie guessed it was near midday. She knew the sun was out full above the tree-enclosed ceiling, but only a faint yellow haze penetrated, slightly diminishing the ever-present green luminance.
They found a spot where a fallen, moss-covered tree trunk spanned a shallow ravine of rock. From under the trunk, water dribbled. Here they stopped and had lunch. In their packs were wrapped sandwiches, courtesy of Corporal Delk, filled with either chicken or lamb. Marie made sure she avoided the lamb, which Perion enjoyed. Courinn instead munched on some dried vegetables.
Marie sat with her legs swinging over the trunk. She tossed small stones onto a rocky outcrop below her, which fell into the ravine. She then noticed Perion, who seemed preoccupied. He was chewing his sandwich, but he was also studying the area around them curiously— or was it confusion?
“Something wrong?” she asked, continuing to watch him.
Perion didn’t react, then realized Marie spoke to him. He turned to her, forcing an unconcerned smile.
“Hmm?”
“What do you hear?” asked Courinn, taking notice of him. She straightened up and peered around them.
Perion narrowed his eyes, as if trying to penetrate something unseen. “I hear nothing, but I feel ... something. I can’t explain, something familiar, yet strange.”
He got up and walked around them in a half circle. “It’s not here, but close by.”
“Something that can hurt us?” asked Marie.
“It’s not evil. But I need to get nearer to it.”
Marie was relieved Perion sensed nothing harmful as she threw the last of her stones against the rocky outcrop below. She kept the largest for last, and when she cast it, she had no idea what she was really doing.
The moment the large stone bounced under Marie’s swinging legs, something moved: something dark and large. The stone hit it square in the face. With a furious growl, a huge black bear quickly climbed out from what Marie saw was a protected rocky enclave.
The three of them leapt off the fallen trunk and quickly retreated. As the bear confronted them, they saw their rotten luck was worse than they could have imagined. It was badly wounded in several places: the chest, leg and neck. Deep slashes and jagged cuts revealed how much agony the great animal was in. Marie reasoned the bear had crawled into the ravine to drink from the water and save whatever strength it had left, until eventually succumbing to its wounds.
“The packs!” cried Marie, as she and Courinn dared to crouch forward, just enough to grab their food and water.
“This way!” shouted Perion as Courinn and Marie raced past him. Shouldering her pack, Marie scolded herself for being so careless tossing anything, anywhere in these woods.
The bear roared again, pursuing them in its anger. But with their bad luck came some good: if not for the animal’s severely injured leg, it would have surely overtaken them quickly. As it were, they got a good enough start away from it.
Perion also chastised himself as they ran, furious he did not recognize the danger so close. He leapt out in front of the girls, leading the way, following his keen senses. The bear let out an ear-piercing wail and they guessed that in spite of its injuries, it was still able to give chase.
Something was ahead through the trees. Perion saw it first: something wide and high. He glanced down as he ran over some strange spongy growth. He knew whatever lay ahead was what he had actually sensed. In his wild curiosity, his adrenalin surged. He sprang away from Marie and Courinn.
When the girls at last caught up, Perion was swiftly surveying a wide and tall hillock, covered entirely in thick moss and ivy. A low, ancient wall of carved stone marked the hill’s base. At the outer perimeter of trees, giant-sized mushrooms grew in a perfect circle. Above the hill, the visible sun shone directly overhead.
“Yes, that’s it!” exclaimed Perion, understanding. He glanced up, confirming the high noon sunlight. The bear’s tormented roar grew ever closer.
Courinn also understood. She took Marie by the hand and led her close to the great mound, her eyes trying to identify the correct spot. Perion found it: a separate shaft of sunlight, marking a jeweled stone in the hill. He quickly waved his friends over. Courinn dragged Marie.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, seven passes deosil?” recalled Perion.
“Seven what?” asked a befuddled Marie.
“Sunward,” stated Courinn. “Yes, seven circles, but there’ll be hardly enough time!”
“There’s no other choice!” shouted Perion.
Following behind him, Courinn and Marie quickly scampered around the base of the hill, moving clockwise. Marie immediately felt something was not right. Her leg muscles were straining to stabilize her balance, as if she were walking on an uneven surface. But she wasn’t— it was only smooth grass under her feet.
After completing the first pass, Courinn blurted out, “Six to go.”
“Six more times around?” asked Marie. “We’ll be lunch and dessert by then!”
“If we can manage this, we will be safe!” shouted Perion.
“But what about Marie?” said Courinn. “Do we need to think about this?”
“She’s crossing over with us, let’s hope that will do!”
As they finished the second pass, Marie saw the bear briefly halt and sniff the ground. Then it spotted them. Its broken body heaved itself forward.
“It’s coming!” shouted Marie. She struggled after her friends when she was suddenly struck by an odd sensation: a rush of heat swept through her head. She clutched at her temples, but as quick as it came, it was gone.
There was no time for any escape. In the midst of the next pass, the bear leapt out at them with its mouth and jaws open. Perion stepped in front of the girls. With a vicious swipe, the bear tore its claw across Perion’s chest, swatting him down hard. As Courinn ran to his side, Marie saw blood streaks of dark blue through his shirt.
Marie valiantly turned to face the crazed animal on its hind legs, towering above her. Courinn glanced back at Marie in horror.
“Run, Marie!” she shouted. “Continue around the hill!”
But Marie did not cower in fear. She instead quickly drew out her globe charm. Just as the bear was about to deal its next blow, Marie held the amulet high, making sure the animal could clearly see it.
This halted the attack. The bear peered into the globe; it did not glow, but it did not need to. Something else, something no one could see gripped the bear, holding it in check. Whatever pain it had already suffered was now matched by an assault into its mind, just as deadly and unforgiving. The bear’s eyes stretched wide, as if struck hard from deep within its skull sockets. It reeled back, violently jerking its head with a horrible shrieking never before heard from such an animal. The tortured thing erupted into a ferocious seizure until it collapsed, not able to endure a second more of existence.
Marie closed her eyes and breathed again. It was a bitter pill to swallow. She dearly loved all animals, but she knew this one had suffered enough and its quick death was the only humane choice. Marie silently hoped the bear forgave her, in spite of the damage it would have surely wreaked. She spun away, replacing the amulet around her neck.
Courinn was leaning over Perion. She had already stopped his bleeding, leaving several scars. As they helped him up, he shook his head in amazement.
“How did you do that? Are you all right, Marie?”
“Are you all right?” she countered, staring wondrously at Courinn. “She did the same for you, just like she did for me.” Marie rubbed her own healed neck wound.
Perion grinned, “It’s a marvel having a companion unicorn. Let us continue!”
Marie found it increasingly difficult following them around the hill. The further they went, the more lopsided the ground became, though it continued to appear perfectly even. Her coordination was also quickly failing. She had never been drunk, but she soon knew what it felt like to perceive everything spinning around her. On the fourth pass, Marie noticed two more incredibly strange things. One, it was much warmer now, actually more humid, like an August day. Secondly, it appeared that the path they followed around the hillock’s base began to somehow rise above itself. It was like a ghostly mirage, like two realities separating from one another. Marie could see both the grassy earth they had trod along minutes ago and the ground now, some ten feet higher. It only added to the disorientation she fiercely struggled against.
“What’s happening to us?” she asked Perion, who turned and quickly helped Marie along.
“We are traveling from one plane of enchantment into another. It will be difficult for you. Take my hand and do not let go.”
As they began the fifth pass, Marie’s stomach jumped into her mouth as if she were falling fast, yet her eyes told her she still walked upon solid soil. When she peered outward from the hill, she saw they were high up and the dead bear was far below. The humid heat grew more severe. She became quite nauseous and had to stop several times, while Perion and Courinn patiently waited for her. On the sixth pass, it was so hot and humid that steam issued from their mouths. Before they got half way round, it began to rain golden drops again. When Marie peered out into the woods it was like a dreamy watercolor painting, soft and hazy.
On the final pass, they encountered a barrage of contrasts. It was now snowing, but Marie was sweating profusely from the unbearable, wet heat. Her face and arms were soaked with salty sweat as snowflakes, some of them light blue, fell about her. She struggled to trudge over what felt akin to some combination of sand dunes and walking up a building sideways— like the teevee show she sometimes watched with the comic book guy in a cape. She squeezed shut her eyes as the knots tightened in her stomach. With shuddering fear, she suddenly felt she was upside down and backwards. The complete disorientation was maddening, and just when Marie found she could not go another step, Perion spoke three glorious words: “Here we are.”
Marie’s physical confusion and discomfort abruptly ceased. She opened her eyes, slowly taking in a slow breath. Before her was the inside of an enormous, cathedral-like palace, very brightly lit. Its radiance was breathtaking. The palace floor, walls, ceiling and many columns were exquisitely carved out of diamond. Not the raw, unrefined crystals normally seen in diamond deposit caverns, but finely polished, magnificently cut into endless facets, resulting in maximum brilliancy.
There were no torches or other normal light source—instead it radiated from within the lattice of crystal, dispersing both inwards and outwards. Marie saw mixed within the pure white diamond hints of red and violet crystal that refracted in a shimmering luminance of color. At the center of the palace was a low altar of pure silver, wherein was set a pool of the deepest blue Marie could have ever conceived. Endless hues were keenly reflected upon its surface. A tall wooden pole, curiously out of place within this glimmering structure, rose out from the waters’ midst.
Yet, the great palace itself was barely more astonishing than the many figures that stood and sat within it. They had proud and beautiful faces and Marie had to blink several times to confirm there was a glow not merely reflecting off them, but from within them. They were of many heights and sizes. Some even shorter than Linsrook, the dwarf, yet some taller than the tallest man, almost, Marie thought, like giants. They were dressed in the same splendidly ornate fashion as the horn blowing riders Marie had dreamt of the previous night. Most sat at immense tables of gorgeous marble, with an enormous feast spread before them. In the hands of some were simple musical instruments— held now as if they had just ceased playing them.
Those same lovely faces peered at Marie and her friends in genuine concern. Courinn stepped forward with Perion as several of the beautiful people approached. Marie stood still, not sure what to do. Her friends softly spoke with them, but it was in another language of which Marie could not even begin to guess. She thought she heard a part of the word, ‘mortal.’ Whatever her comrades said quickly put the shimmering people at ease. Now with wonderfully engaging smiles, Marie saw that they greeted her friends warmly.
The music began, a grandiose mix of mirthful rhythms and stirring melodies. The feasting continued along with singing, dancing, and merriment and Marie was immediately smitten, desiring to stay here forever. This of course, was part of the very bewitchment these supernatural beings possessed and wove.
Courinn motioned Marie to come forward. “We won’t be here long,” she said. “But if that bear was attacked by the trollogre, we’ll need to know her whereabouts, as we are now in the region she most travels.”
“Who are these ... people,” asked Marie, still in awe, “and what is this place?”
“These are enchanted folk, the Gentry of Faeriaye,” continued Courinn, “and this is their realm, while they remain in your world. As magical as Spellhollow Wood is, it is still part of the fabric of your reality, your universe. Meaning that these folk must dwell in the confines of an unreality woven a bit closer to what they are.”
A great shout went up from the revelers and the music took an even livelier turn, beginning a spriteful reel. Marie watched in amazement as many of the folk began dancing around the tall pole that arose from the mirrored pool. Dancing, that is, upon the surface of the water.
“Do they celebrate like this all the time?”
“This is a festive day for them,” said Perion. “Tonight begins Mayday, May the first, Beltaine as it was once known in your world.”
“Which makes no sense,” interjected Courinn. “Today should be the twenty-ninth of April, not the thirtieth, unless I’ve somehow missed my count.”
Marie half listened, as she could not take her eyes off the beautiful people. Their resplendent revelry was intoxicating; it struck something primordial deep down in her soul. She desired to dance and sing with them.
“Why did they seem upset when they saw me?” she asked, having to raise her voice above the merriment. Perion led the three of them aside for a bit of privacy, behind one of the palaces’ many elaborate columns.
“Hardly upset,” answered Perion, “just somewhat surprised to see that we brought someone as you.”
“Meaning someone human,” said Marie, clarifying. “Don’t they like us?”
“Some do, some do not. Most have no conviction either way. But these are good folk and they are concerned that a mortal is not harmed on their account.”
“Why?”
“Because they realize,” said Courinn, “that this is still your world, and they are but visitors. They do not wish aggression toward mortals. They have enough of that with other kin and clans here in the wood. At any rate, they prefer to keep humans apart from their realm, because of the dangers involved.”
“Which we must explain to you now,” added Perion.
“What dangers?” said Marie. “I thought you said this place would be safe.”
“It is,” said Perion. “But while here, you must understand what you can and cannot do.” He then nodded toward Courinn to continue.
“These great folk you see, singing and feasting,” she explained. “Some of them may offer you food and drink. Do not take any of it, whatsoever. If you do, the moment you return to the woods, you shall become dust. Some may invite you to dance with them. If you become a part of their circle, you could be caught in their span of time, which might release you again in a hundred years. There would be nothing we could do to help.”
“But why would they, when you said they don’t want to harm me?”
“Their nature is not yours,” Perion explained. “Some innocently do not realize the danger until it’s too late. Many here will take great interest in you, Marie, for they may have never been in human company. At any rate, all of them noted with surprise and interest what you did to the bear outside their home.”
“Lastly,” Courinn added, “one or two here may ask to return with you back to the woods. If you leave this place alone or with anyone but either of us, you will become somewhere lost in time or simply cease to be, the moment you step back onto mortal ground. We brought you in, and only through a certain mastery and command— mostly, Perion’s— can you be returned safely. Understood?”
Marie nodded, as she peered back at the fervid revelers. Their singing really did capture the heart and sweep away all worry and fear. The sight and smell of their food hypnotized and forged a ravenous hunger.
“Perion and I will learn what we can from our hosts,” said Courinn. “ Please be careful.”
As Marie set her pack down next to a pillar, she watched Courinn and Perion step out among the jovial folk. They made their way toward an older group, not meaning gray or white haired, but sage-like. These few smiled and sang, but did not take direct part in the festive fun. Perion and Courinn were soon in deep discussion with them.
Wearing a white summer dress, Tilda excitedly peddled her bike. Her hair was neatly brushed back and held in a hair ribbon, instead of hanging in front of her eyes. As hard as Tilda’s legs pumped, she barely felt the strain.
It had finally happened yesterday afternoon, after gym, right there in the school hallway. She was talking with Jack Salento, as she often did. Then, out of the blue, with no warning, he asked her. She couldn’t believe he asked her!
He had always been nice to Tilda, even when she was at first rude to him. She couldn’t help it, he was the most popular boy in their grade, and she didn’t understand why he kept coming around— asking her how she was, and what she liked to do. He quickly made her feel at ease, which no one else did. And when she began talking to him, he listened, really listened to her, and it was so easy. She soon found that she liked herself, liked whatever part of her came out— even she thought, shined at times— when she was around Jack. She hoped he would like her dress, something Tilda would have never worn around Bettyann and Trish.
Jack had told her more than once how he thought she could do better than the friends she had chosen. He knew the trouble Tilda kept getting into with Bettyann, Trish and Marie, and assured her she was much smarter than that. Sometimes, Tilda even believed him. But all she knew now was Jack had asked if she’d like to come over his house today to listen to the latest record by the Fab 4.
The familiar flutter she got in her stomach, whenever Tilda knew she was going to see Jack, grew as she rounded the final corner to his block. That same flutter quickly sank like a dead weight as she gaped at the scene in front of her.
Two police cars were parked in front of the Salento house, with several officers going in and out. Tilda came to a stop. She took no notice that her breathing had quickened and was now almost in gasps. Her hands trembled on her handlebars. Tilda could not, did not want to believe what she feared most likely had happened.
Sheriff Dan came out of the house. He quickly saw Tilda, stopped and then waved her over. Tilda slowly walked her bike, still straddling it, toward the sheriff.
“What are you doing here?” he growled suspiciously. He cut himself short, seeing the look on Tilda’s face.
“Where’s Jack?” she asked immediately.
The sheriff could see the sincere panic and fear in her eyes. “He’s gone, along with his mother. We’re starting to look for them.”
“No!” Tilda grit her teeth, forcing back tears. The sheriff had never seen this reaction, knowing only Tilda’s exploitive and selfish temperament. He earnestly reached out, laying a hand on her arm.
“Jack meant something to you? What can you tell me? Please, the truth this time.”
Broken sobs escaped as Tilda fought the burning rage inside her. “She did it,” growled Tilda to herself, tears streaming down her cheeks. “She did it anyway!”
“If you know something, Tilda,” said the sheriff. “You’ve got to tell me.”
Tilda was so furious she grunted like an animal as she swung her bike and wildly rode off. The sheriff sighed, watching her before turning back to the house.
“Well, I guess I shouldn’t be a snob,” Marie said to herself. All eyes were on her as she began to stroll among the beautiful folk. Many offered kind, courteous exchanges. Some halted their revelry to stare in their own fashion of curiosity. One or two, Marie thought, frowned or sneered at her.
Ambling further along, she found herself heading toward the pool and the dancers who literally floated upon the water. Marie knew it was some magical form of the May Dance, which she had seen several times at the Gulliver county fair. She was feeling a little uneasy in light of Courinn’s warnings, but so far, no one had approached her or attempted to make any contact, outside of a greeting. Then she halted and her breath was sucked away and her eyes and mouth went taut in a great jolt of surprise.
Sitting before her, among the Faeriaye People was the same young boy who had stopped to look up at her during the procession in her dream. But at this moment, Marie realized it was no dream. She was awake through everything last night. She pinched her thumb to make certain she was not dreaming now.
He appeared the same: very thin with blue lips. Looking closer, Marie could see that the tips of his fingers and nails were also blue. It was hard to tell from his condition if he was her age or younger. He was a sickly boy, but his eyes and smile were bright and cheerful, and Marie strangely found herself wondering how grubby she looked. Was her hair a mess? Several days in the woods could not have left her appearing too glamorous.
However, the boy did not seem to care in the least. He rose from his seat, a bit awkwardly Marie observed, as if there was some strain. He was not dressed like the others, wearing a simple old pair of pants and plaid shirt, with rolled up sleeves. He also stood out, since there was no glow about him. When he spoke, his voice was warm and pleasant. It seemed to somehow comfort Marie, just as she recalled feeling when he first smiled at her during the procession.
“Hello. Would you like to sit?”
This was indeed a kind gesture, since he appeared to be the one who needed to sit.
“No thank you,” she replied, glancing down at the finely polished stone where he had been seated. She saw a piece of old paper lying on the table behind him. Looking closer, it was a material slightly thicker than paper. On it was a sketch.
The boy followed her sightline to the drawing and picked it up. As he handed it to her, Marie was embarrassed to discover it was a sketch of her— standing, she assumed, as she did minutes ago at the rear of the palace.
The drawing was a dead-on likeness of her and incredibly detailed, certainly for having been sketched so quickly. Studying it, Marie realized that the talented boy had placed her not in the diamond palace, but standing upon an elevated structure at night: the balcony of Giggleswick Mansion.
“It wasn’t a dream,” she excitedly exclaimed, looking up at the boy, “I really did see you!” There was such a pleasant sparkle in his eyes, nothing sweet or superficial, but all at once, sincere and heartfelt. Marie felt herself beaming uncontrollably.
The boy nodded. “I remember that evening well.”
“You remember? It was only last night.”
“Well … for you perhaps.” Marie grinned. By now, she knew to shake off any brain-stretching confusion. She handed the drawing back to him. “Who are you?”
“My name is Steavyn.” Marie thought she heard ‘Steven’, but the boy pronounced it strangely. He also spoke with a strange accent, not too different from Perion.
“Are you ... ” she began, but leaned in close to be more discreet, cutting through the mirthful sounds around them, “… like them?” She motioned to the dancing folk.
Steavyn raised a curious brow. “The festivities here are wonderful to watch, but not to talk over.” He shivered as if cold, then coughed several times with a rawness that underscored his condition. “Let’s find somewhere less clamorous.”
Stepping away, Marie reached out and took his hand to halt him. She felt silly making so forward a gesture, but she had not forgotten Perion and Courinn’s warning. “Umm, I really shouldn’t leave my friends,” she said as Steavyn faced her. He understood.
“I’m no threat to you, Marie,” he assured her earnestly. “I am human.” He pointed ahead. “Look to your friends now.”
Marie saw Perion in discussion while Courinn’s eyes searched the palace, until she found her with Steavyn. As the boy waved to Courinn, Marie threw her an inquiring glance, whether it was safe to be with this gentle stranger. Courinn smiled as if slightly amused, then nodded her agreement.
“I’ve met Perion once before,” said Steavyn, “but Courinn and I have been good friends. This way.”
Taking the paper sketch with him— old parchment, actually— while tucking a drawing utensil behind his ear, Steavyn led her along a far wall of the palace. He turned at an open passageway and entered. As Marie followed, she could see the difficulty Steavyn had from simply walking. He breathed hard through his mouth so he could gulp the air easier. Marie made sure she stayed close behind him, within arms reach in case he staggered or fell, which she thought he might at any time.
The passage they were in had many others leading away from it, all carved out of the same diamond structure. Steavyn began taking these, one after another. Marie tried counting the rights, then lefts, but they were too numerous to keep track of. She realized they were traveling within an extensive labyrinth.
Steavyn needed to stop and rest several times while Marie patiently waited. She could see the blue tint in his lips and fingernails become even darker. At one point, he began coughing with labored wheezing as he tried to breathe. Marie began to be concerned.
“I didn’t know you were taking me this far,” she said, wondering if there was any danger following this sickly boy. Still, her instincts told her everything was okay and Courinn would not have let her leave if there were any real threat. “This is like some kind of maze that leads on forever. Where are we going?”
“It’s only around the next turn,” said Steavyn, catching his breath. “I wanted to surprise you. Forgive me, I thought I could make it without another rest, but I suppose not.”
Marie turned to him, sadly. “What happened to you, Steavyn? Have you always been so sick? Maybe you shouldn’t be walking this much.”
Steavyn breathed hard to steady his condition. “Thank you, but I’m fine now. Follow me, it’s right up ahead.”
He took a sharp left as the wide tunnel ended, leading them outside. They now stood in yet another place of otherworldly beauty. If Marie had only known of the grandeur that existed within Spellhollow Wood, she would have taken her father’s Polaroid camera. But she soon came to learn that nothing enchanted would photograph anyway.
Before them was a grove of woods that was split by a peacefully flowing stream. The water was the same bright blue as the May Dance pool. It sparkled brilliantly as it cascaded over rocks that rose up from its surface. Then there were the trees, which Marie gazed at in awe, glistening with rich moisture and of the purest, deep green. Not just the leaves, but also the boles, boughs and branches were all drenched in luscious emerald and majestic beyond description. The sound of the bubbling stream along with a soothing cedar-wood breeze that swept past them overwhelmed Marie with a euphoric tranquility. Steavyn enjoyed watching Marie’s reaction as her mortal eyes swilled the immortal landscape. Staring at her, he removed the pen from his ear and began sketching.
“I keep thinking I’ve seen it all,” she said dreamily, “and then I realize I haven’t.”
“Much within the wood has scarcely been seen by human eyes,” said Steavyn. “None more so than this place, which is why I had to show it to you.”
Suddenly, Marie gasped. “Oh no! The hill— I left it without Courinn and Perion!” She peered down at her feet upon the ground— ground that was not mortal, but was the only soil she would ever be able to walk upon for the rest of her life. “What have I done?”
“At ease, Marie!” exclaimed Steavyn. “We have not left the Faeriaye Realm. This grove and stream and all you see still lies within the hillock.”
“It does?” replied Marie with great relief. She peered up into the treetops, straining her eyes to see some sort of ceiling that would indicate they were still underground. But it made no visual sense to her. The light within the grove was a pleasant shade of natural, ambient daylight. How could that be possible if they were inside a great mound?
“Are you sure, Steavyn?” she asked. “I won’t be turned to dust when I leave?”
“I would have never put you in such peril,” he answered with calm reassurance. “This is a place to ease one’s thoughts and feelings, not to fear.”
Marie took a few steps. The earth below her appeared rich and fertile. It had a wholesome scent, which seemed to invigorate her senses. She approached the dazzling stream and knelt next to it, then turned back to Steavyn for his approval.
“Go ahead,” he answered, “it?