The Five Fey

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. The sweet scent of apple blossoms caressed the cheek and slid silently up reddened noses. The grass was cool and dew was collecting on the hem of their dresses as they steadily strode up the small hill. The field below was surface still, but undulating slightly; like a dark sea. They reached the stone circle just as the amethyst moon broke through the clouds. They quietly set about spreading blankets and lighting candles. The moon shone so brightly the candles were not necessary, but symbolic and customary. The fey placed the candles in a circle by their feet then slowly laid down on the woolen blankets with their feet at the center; fanning out their hair above their heads. The candlelight danced and swayed with the most subtle of breezes. And so, they waited, the five fey.

Bea was trying to practice her patience by doing the deep breathing Elena insisted worked. This would be her third spring. Her third time waiting to be chosen by a Plerosa. She did not want to be like Marjorie who has seen so many springs no one could say how many and yet to hear a Plerosa whisper.

Elena could sense Bea shifting, but was impressed Bea was doing the suggested deep breathing. There was talk amongst the fey that Bea would replace Marjorie in the springs. The two were not similar at all; Marjorie hardly spoke and would always startle when addressed where as Bea was an unsettled puppy full of awkward movements and sharp teeth that most found amusing rather than annoying. This was Elena’s first spring. She was called in a dream before she came, but did not want to tell Bea. Elena knew her Plerosa was coming; she just had to wait and listen.

It did not take long before small gasps were heard randomly among the fey. Elena inhaled a new perfume of swampy musk and felt stray hairs tickle her right ear. A warmth on her ear paralyzed her body. “You must run. Always.”

Bea could hear the others acknowledging their Plerosas and it only frustrated her more. She must remain still. Maybe the Plerosa whispered and she was too preoccupied counting breaths that she did not hear? How quiet were these whispers? She held her breath until she felt a pressure on her cheek. She dare not open her eyes. “Bea?” Elena whispered the question so softly Bea thought it was her Plerosa. Bea’s eyes opened. A tear escaped and ran down her face to her ear. Bea shook her head no and slowly sat up. Everyone was sitting up, shiny faces waiting to tell their Plerosa whisper. All heads turned to Marjorie and her smile was brilliant. She nodded and let out a small sob.

“The babe will live.” Marjorie looked at each face so full of love and hope and repeated, “The babe will live.”

“Feed the people!” Bethany said with gusto. Stephany half-whispered, “Strengthen shelters” and shrugged her shoulders. She was secretly hoping for some relationship advice.

Elena hesitated, but decided to share, “You must run.”

All eyes then went to Bea. She cast her eyes down and shook her head. Marjorie had gathered Bea in her arms so swiftly there seemed no time between the headshake and being engulfed in the damp woolen cloak and held by thin, strong arms. “It will happen. It will.”

No words were spoken during the trip back into the city. Bea concentrated on driving the rented minivan and flushing out invading thoughts of why me or why NOT me? Elena watched as cars and trucks raced on both sides fleeing into the night. They have no idea who we are or what we know. Elena smiled at Bea; her profile illuminated by the highway lights.

“Next spring. I am sure of it.” Elena turned and reached for Bea’s hand. A quick squeeze of thanks was all she could muster before the tears of disappointment burst forth.