The Truth about Faeries Page 4

  'They are fine, thank you,' replied Isa unconvincingly, 'much bigger than my last room, but there really was no need.' In her own home she could wander without her veil unless Fahdi was to have guests.

  'And your new clothing?'

  'My husband is most generous,' she said trying to force a smile. Wrapped in her sadness she looked even more beautiful to him.

  'My dear, what is wrong?' said Fahdi, breaking the pretence they had been keeping up for months. 'Since you came to my home, you've been lost, can you tell me what's going on?'

  Again Isa tried to fight the emotions openly displayed on her face; the resulting expression looked even more tortured than before. 'Nothing is wrong, my dear.' she said. 'Perhaps my husband is hungry, perhaps he wishes to lie together for a while? I'll do anything to be a good wife to you. Just tell me.'

  Fahdi's body reacted excitedly to the invitation, but his heart sank further.

  They had spent their wedding night together and several times since. Each had been a further disappointment for him. The girl, beautiful as she was, simply lay there as if enduring the act, her distracted face transporting her elsewhere. Never did he loathe himself more than those times when the lust overcame him.

  'Not today dear,' he said, his despondency rising to match her own. 'Not today.'

  #

  'She's not happy,' said Fahdi, 'She's trying to be, God knows she's trying to be, poor girl, but she's not in the least happy.'

  Zanne nodded. He'd been listening to the other man complain for the past month, there was little more he could say that would help.

  'Before you say it, I will not let her see that friend of hers. It's like a drug, I let them back together and it’ll be the worse when they are separated again. And no, I shan't have her under my roof forever either; Isa is mine, my wife!' He swung back another drink, enjoying the burning sensation that filled the back of his throat. There could be pleasure in pain he reflected. If he could get through this, then his life with Isa would be all the better for it.

 

  'Shame you can't find a Jinn like you grandfather, eh?' said Zanne dryly. He didn't drink and watching Fahdi was tiring.

  'That's it!' shouted Fahdi, 'Of course the Jinn!'

  'Come on now, Fahdi. I was joking, maybe you've had a few too many.'

  'I have not, the Jinn, it's a fine idea!'

  'Look Fahdi, even if those stories were true, and I doubt they were, that was a hundred years ago. She'll be long gone by now.'

  'Maybe, but who knows, maybe there will be others, maybe a family, I'm sure of it. Saddle your camel, we're leaving now!'

  He didn't wait to see if Zanne followed, instead he grabbed his bag from the side of his chair and made his way to the stables.

  #

  The mountains were far to the north; the spiking ridges sat like an island in a sea of desert. It was not unusual for his people to make pilgrimage there, often climbing their way to the top of the snow-capped mountains to pray. There was an aura to the place, a pulsing of spiritual energy. Fahdi knew that if he were to find the Jinn anywhere, it would be there.

  For three days they climbed the ridges together, touching the snow-line before descending again; no one could live in such cold they assured themselves. Thankfully, they had the power of fire to keep them going. What had his people done before they found that greatest of tools, Fahdi wondered.

  They were returning down the mountains, after Zanne had finally persuaded Fahdi that they were wasting their time, when they found the cave. Sheltered in a little valley near a river’s edge, it was not so far from where they had left their mounts. The outside cave had been decorated with a gruesome menagerie of animal skulls, some balanced on jutting rocks, others on a series of poles that marked the road towards the cave entrance; there was no doubt that they had found their place.

  'Wait for me here,' said Fahdi, dropping his pack at his feet, 'This is something that I should do alone.' He followed the line of skull totems that marked the path towards the cave, fearful that if he should leave the trail some hidden ill would befall him. He ducked inside the low cave entrance, trying not to be fearful of the foreboding dark that awaited him.

  Inside, the walls of the cave were wet and a musty smell welled up from some hidden depths. On the floor were a series of cryptic drawings: in one place several linking circles, in another place an arch of triangles and interspersed with used lamps. As Fahdi made his way around them, not daring to step on the symbols, he spotted a glint of a body of water deep in the recesses of the cave.

  'And may I ask what you are doing in my home?' croaked a voice in the deep darkness.

  'I came to ask for your help wise one.' said Fahdi, trying to keep his voice from trembling.

  'I see,' strained the voice, coming closer so that Fahdi could see. She was small and fat, her dark, cracked skin almost as leathery as a man's. Fahdi tried not to turn away in revulsion. 'Rare that I get such visitors these days. People have forgotten the old ways, they're in love with a new God that gives them clear rules and laws. Are you not one of his followers?'

  'That I am,' confessed Fahdi, 'but my family, we have always been helped by the old ways.'

  The old woman gave a shrug and walked closer towards him, so that he could see the solid black eyes that rested in her sockets. 'I guess that will have to do. So tell me,' she said, 'why have you come here?'

  'It's my wife; we've been married but a few months, but...'

  'But she's not happy.' The old woman snorted contemptuously. 'Marriage is rarely such an easy thing. I'm old, ask me your boon and be gone?'

  'I want you to make my wife happy.'

  The old face looked up at him coldly.

  'Are you sure that is what you want?'

  'I'm sure.'

  'I see, there is a price for such things, you know that?'

  'I know,' he replied resolutely.

  'Very well, I will grant your boon, but in return I want one of your nights with her.'

  'What do you mean my nights with her?'

  'Do I have to spell it out to you?' she hissed in irritation, 'I mean one night with you wife, with the rights of a husband.'

  Fahdi felt complete revulsion at the thought. How could he ask his wife to spend the night with another, such an ugly, unholy creature of all things?

  'I guess your wife will have to remain sad,' chuckled the old woman, turning back into the dark of the cave.

  'No, I will send her and you may have one of my nights with her.' said Fahdi sadly. 'Though it may not be easy to persuade her.'

  'Fine, fine.' said the witch through a wicked smile, 'In four nights’ time there is a full moon. Send her then and I will show her happiness.'

  #

  When Isa approached the cave, it was already getting dark. The moon, whiter and brighter than it had ever seemed to her before, shone with columns of light into the dark valley, giving added menace to the skulls that marked the path.

  'Just do what she says,' she whispered to herself. Fahdi had told her that when she left him at the foot of the hills. She had wanted him to come with her, but he had refused. 'Be a good wife for me,' he had told her, 'if you do this then we can be happy together.'

  With her beautiful, light walk, Isa glided towards the entrance. Inside she could make out the light of a blazing fire; somehow that made things seem better. She ducked under the entrance and into the light of the cave.

  The place was not as she expected, it was not as Fahdi had told it would be. There were no mystical signs or symbols, no dolls or musty stench. Instead the place was clean and glowed with a homely warmth. In the centre a fire burned merrily and on the far side of the room a simple, but comfortable bed awaited.

  'It's good to see you,' said a familiar voice from deeper in the room. Isa watched in stunned silence as Tirza, dressed only in a light gown, walked close to the fire. Isa beamed an amazed smile.

  'How did you know I would be here?' she asked excitedly.

&nb
sp; 'The Jinn found me, told me you would be here.' A cold wave of realisation washed the smile from Isa's face.

  'You're not her are you?' said Isa, shaking her head. 'You're not Tirza.'

  'Not such a foolish girl after all, it seems,' said the witch, keeping up her mask. 'No, I'm not her.'

  'Then why? Why go to all this trouble?'

  'Your husband promised me one of his nights with you,' said the Jinn moving to sit on the bed. 'What a foolish man he is. He should know better. You are not his to give. His ancestor would have known, now he was a clever man. But come lie with me anyway dear, it's been a long time since I've had real company and there is much I can teach you, much you will need to know for your new life.'

  Isa hesitated for a moment, then remembering her husband’s words, sat down on the bed beside the Jinn, taking its soft hands into her own.

  #

  Fahdi impatiently stomped about in the sand that gathered at the foot of the mountain. One night the old woman had said that was all; midday was already approaching. He rummaged in his camel's saddle bag, pulling out a long, curved dagger that he kept there in case of bandits and tucked it under his sandy outer garment. Abandoning his camp, he strode up the lower reaches of the mountain; it didn't take long for him to reach the Jinn's cave.

  Without hesitation he scrambled under the low entrance, finding himself in the same dark, damp, chalk scrawled cave that he had been in but a few days before.

  'Where is she?' he demanded, as the leathery skinned witch emerged from the darkness.

  'Where is who?' asked the Jinn slyly, her shape that of an old woman again.

  'You know who! Where is my wife?'

  'I have done as you asked, I have made her happy.'

  'What did you do to her? Where is she?' he demanded, his hand easing out the blade from under his garment.

  'I have taught her what she really is, I have shown her what she needs to be truly happy, who she needs to be truly happy. And she has gone to find her.'

  Fahdi didn't need to hear Tirza's name, to know who she was talking about.

  'You!' he shouted drawing the weapon, 'I will have your heart and put an end to your evil ways.' He advanced towards the old woman with his dagger drawn, moving in quick strong strides, but instead of shrinking back in fear, the Jinn cackled with hysterical laughter. Before turning on Fahdi and his knife.

  'You really think you can hurt me with that? You whose family, whose entire wealth and position, is founded on my advice. How little you know the deals that your great grandfather made.'

  In terror the knife dropped from Fahdi's hand.

  'No boy you listen to me. I did what you asked, no more, no less. It was a deal. But you tried to give me something that was not yours to give. So now, let us talk about what you owe me. The girl and her bride price will remain untouched. You will not look for her again or even make it known that she has left you, do you understand me?'

  Fahdi nodded pathetically, trying to back towards the cave exit.

  'Good, because only then can she be happy as you asked. Now, if you break these rules, and I will know if you do, there will be consequences.'

  Fahdi continued to watch her in terror.

  'Go then and leave me in peace.'

  Without another word, he ran from the cave leaving behind the dagger as he did so.

  The Jinn walked forward casually, picking up the weapon and throwing it on to a pile of similar knives that lay stacked in one corner. Sitting on the damn, hard rock floor, she started laughing to herself.

  'Shame you never asked what would make you happy,' she whispered.

  The Other Folk

  Noo a ken whit yer thinkin. Whit ra hell wis that tae dae wi’ ra fae? Well ye'd be richt. Yer weirdy wummin’ there, she'd no be fae as such by ra ways o’ ra auld times. But ye ken, things move on and noo that ra folk aff ra isle ur movin elsewhere. So ure we. Mind ra Welsh baker lad in ra states, wi’ his welsh brownies? A bet they met mullions o’ different folk, ken whit we're a’ jist cousins like, distant kin. Aye, we dress different, an maybe we dinnae a’ways look ra same. Um sure there ur few that lack ma eloquence for yin thing. But when push comes tae shove ra girl up there is mer kin tae me than your folk ur. Can ye no see ra resemblance with whit a said afore?

  Well that's awe um tellin ye fur ra day. I hope y’ve learned somethin’ aboot ma kind. If yez think yez huvney, then ye've no been readin close enough. Cause there's mare tae they stories than jist whit I’ve been talkin’ aboot.

  The Translation:

  The Other Folk

  Now I know what you're thinking. What the hell was that to do with the fae? Well you'd be right. Your strange woman there, she wouldn't be fae as such by the ways of the old times. But you know, things move on and now that the folk of the isle are moving elsewhere, so are we. Remember the Welsh baker in the states, with his Welsh brownies? I bet they met a whole host a different creatures, and you know what? We're all just cousins and distant kin. Oh, we dress different, and maybe we don't always look the same. I'm sure there are few that lack my eloquence for one thing. But when push comes to shove the girl up there is more like me than your people are. Can you not see the resemblance with the other stories?

  Well that's all I'm telling you for today. I hope you have learned something about my kind. If you think you haven't, then you've not been reading closely enough, because there's more to those stories than just what I've been talking about.

  ***

  Also available in paperback and ebook:

  Paradigms

  by Chris McKenna

  In Scotland, in the years after an apocalyptic disaster, the surviving people have reverted to clan life and are living off the carcass of the old world. But not everyone has forgotten the technology of the past and not everyone has forgotten the mystical secrets of the ages gone before. Propelled by an act of compassion, Malcolm, a young clansman, finds himself lost in a land of physical and metaphysical conflict that has changed far more than anyone realised. But which path is the right one? Which Paradigm is real?

  Coming soon:

  Bardo

  by Chris McKenna

  Nikki finds herself in the Bardo and time is running out. Soon her essence will be scattered forever. Can she pull herself together?

  Bardo is a young adult fantasy based loosely on the Tibetan Book of the dead (The Bardo Thdol). It follows Nikki, a young school girl who after an … unfortunate accident, finds herself trapped in the Bardo. It won’t be long before she'll be scattered across the realms.

  With only a dog to guide her, can she escape? Can she pull herself together?