The Snow Fairy

The Snow Fairy

D A Ratliff

The past year had been a harrowing one.

Marshall Caine threw a duffle bag onto the oversized chair and pulled the drapes back, letting the dim daylight pour into the room. He let the quiet solitude wash over him, trying to will the anguish away. There was peace in this deep forest, and he needed peace.

The cabin belonged to a friend, a professional baseball player who grew up nearby. He was a megastar and built the lodge deep in the Canadian wilderness to retreat from the chaos. Marshall had played baseball in college with him and remembered his friend’s words when he offered the lodge to him. “Marsh, you’ve been my best friend for years. The place is yours for however long you need it.”

He was going to need it.

He spent the remainder of the afternoon unloading the small trailer attached to a snowmobile, his means of transportation to the nearest town. Before going inside, he laughed at the road sign his friend erected in front of the house. The three wooden boards pointed in different directions, each displaying a city located in a warm climate. One pointed toward a path that extended past the lodge. Later, he would explore where that path led. Back inside, he built a fire in the enormous stone fireplace, put away groceries, unpacked his computer, and stacked his CDs next to the stereo.

At dusk, he stowed the trailer in the small shed and parked the snowmobile under an awning to keep the snow off it. Before returning to the warmth of the fire, he stood outside in the twilight. Heavy snow peppered down, and he soaked in the overwhelming stillness, tamping back the screams trying to escape. It would get better. It had to, and he would learn to cope.

After a quick dinner, he opened a bottle of wine, put smooth jazz on the stereo, and grabbed his laptop. He was a sportswriter with an itch to write a novel, and his therapist suggested it would be cathartic. He had written for about an hour when fatigue and a couple of glasses of Petite Sirah took their toll, and he fell asleep.

~~~

He woke in a stupor, unsure where he was for a few moments. As he focused, the reality of where he was dawned on him, and he relaxed. He had dreamed he was in the courtroom. He didn’t want to be there.

He stumbled to the bathroom and took the hottest shower he could stand. Amazed that the water pressure was excellent in such a remote area, he suspected this luxury was costly. Drying off, he padded into the kitchen, made coffee, and while it was brewing, he tended to the dying fire. He dragged his suitcases to the loft, rummaged for his favorite old sweatpants, sweatshirt, and socks, and returned downstairs.

Pouring a mug of coffee, he walked to the large window and pulled open the drapes. The snow had stopped, and the wind was dead calm. The firs stood like sentinels among the bare limbs of birch and aspen trees. Having lived in Southern California for so long, the beauty of the Canadian forest mesmerized him.

Marshall’s stomach growled, announcing time for breakfast. He started to turn away from the window when a small blue creature flew into his view. A bluebird? The creature stopped mid-air, whirling around when a bright beam of light struck the small body, and it dropped into the snow.

Stunned, Marshall stood rooted to the floor as he watched the tiny creature lying on the snow morph into an adult woman. He dropped his coffee mug. How could...? Shaking off his shock, he rushed outside, struggling through the deep snow in his sock feet, oblivious to the cold. He easily picked up the small woman, as she was light as a feather, and hurried into the house.

He laid her on the couch, covered her with an afghan, and then cranked up the temp on the heat pump to get the lodge warmer. He shivered—his feet ice-cold from his wet socks. He took the loft stairs two at a time, grabbed dry socks, and rushed back to her.

She was pale and barely breathing. Marshall felt for a pulse and was relieved to feel a strong, steady beat beneath his fingers. Not sure what to do, he refilled his mug, sat in the chair across from her, and waited.

When his breathing slowed, Marshall picked up his laptop to write down what he witnessed and a description of her. He noted her thick black hair, pale skin, and delicate features. As he wrote of her beauty, confusion flooded his thoughts. Her diaphanous clothing consisted of several layers of sheer deep blue fabric not suited for the weather, nor were the cloth slippers on her feet. Her only adornment was a beautiful teardrop-shaped sapphire attached to a gold necklace.

Was he hallucinating? Was she real? He had been under such stress since his son died that he didn’t trust his sanity anymore. He closed the laptop, picked up his coffee, and continued waiting.

It was nearing ten a.m. when she stirred. Marshall held his breath. He had watched the woman lying on his couch change from a tiny creature flying in mid-air to what appeared to be a human. As much as he wanted to understand what he had seen, he shuddered from fear.

She raised her head and moaned softly. Her eyes, a startling bright blue, darted around the room before settling on his face. She smiled and took a deep breath. “You are not Onor. That is good.” She swung her legs off the couch while rubbing her forehead. “Oh… I hate stunning spells. Always leave such a headache.”

Marshall found his voice. “Would—would you like some water?”

“Yes, I would.”

His hand shaking, he got a glass from the cabinet and filled it with cold water from the refrigerator door. He tried to keep his hand steady as he handed it to her. He failed, and she noticed.

“You saw what happened to me, didn’t you?”

Marshall managed to nod.

She gulped a drink of water. “Ah… well, I suppose I should explain… uh, what’s your name?”

“Marshall—Marshall Caine.”

“Marshall, I am Deela. I’m a fairy.”

“Uh…” Marshall winced. Get a grip.

“Yes, I seem to have that effect on nonmagical Earthers. You weren’t supposed to see that. When in the Earthly realm, it is not easy to see us. Spells usually keep us hidden unless we take our true form. You might notice something, but our presence never registers.” She drank the remaining water. “However, this cabin is so close to the realm that I suppose our presence is difficult to hide.”

Marshall took a deep breath. “I don’t mean to seem incredulous, but I…. Well, I am, but I know what I saw unless I am hallucinating, which is possible. Tell me, what was that red beam that hit you?”

“That was a seeker stun spell. Whoever cast it knew I was close to the sanctuary but took a chance to seek me out and stop me.”

“Stop you. Why would they want to stop you? And sanctuary?”

“This will sound absurd, but two realms exist in this world. The Earthly world you live in and the magical world I do. The world became alienated eons ago due to a rather serious misunderstanding. The sanctuary lies through a portal quite near here, down the lane.”

“Oh... okay.” Marshall's demeanor didn’t suggest that anything was okay.

“I know this is difficult, but I discovered vital information I need to get to the archmage.” She absently rubbed the sapphire stone on her necklace. “How long was I out?”

“About three hours.”

“Not good. They will be searching for me. I need to leave.” Deela stood, wobbling a bit. “Oh, that was a powerful spell—a bit dizzy.” She took a deep breath. “We still need to go.”

“We?”

“Yes. The group trailing me will be able to trace the spell. They will know where it found me, and that will bring them to you, which puts you in danger.” She headed toward the door. “Coming?”

“I… I…” He stopped stuttering. “I need to change clothes.”

Deela cocked her head, a slight grin touching her lips. “Don’t let me stop you.”

As he hurried up the stairs, he hoped he hadn’t blushed. A fairy? Difficult to believe, but she did command more energy than any woman he’d ever known. He scoffed. Was she even human? Dressing as warmly as possible, he grabbed a second coat and returned to the main floor, where he found her trying to look at her back in the glass of a picture hanging on the wall.

“Please, check my back.” She turned, and he sucked in a breath. She had undone her dress—her back bare. “There is a slight slit in the center of my back. Is it inflamed?”

He looked closely. There was a small opening in her back between her shoulder blades, which was indeed quite red. “Yes, the area is red.”

She reached over her shoulder, and the dress refastened with a flick of her wrist. “This is not good. It will heal quickly, but that is where my wings are. Without them, I can’t shift. It will take us longer to reach the portal. And I do not have enough energy to transport.”

“Uh… I have a snowmobile. It’s faster than walking.”

“Then snowmobile it is.”

“Here, I brought a coat for you.” She slipped on the coat and went outside, where they pulled the snowmobile from the shed. They mounted the seat, Deela’s arms encircling his chest.

She spoke, her voice melodious in his ear. “Thank you. The wizards after me want me dead before I can deliver the information I have. So, if I tell you to make this thing go as fast as possible, I mean it.”

Marshall nodded. He slipped on his helmet and dropped the shield over his face. He turned the key, waited for the engine to warm, released the choke, and headed down the narrow path leading deeper into the forest.

Towering trees shrouded in pristine snow lined the narrow trail. Had he been out on a pleasure drive, Marshall would have loved the solitude and beauty, but this ride was far from enjoyable. Deela’s body pressed against his constantly reminded him that what he was experiencing was anything but ordinary. He didn’t believe in fairies and wizards, or did he?

They traveled for fifteen minutes when Deela shouted over the snowmobile’s din that the portal was quite close. An eerie, iridescent glow appeared ahead as they rounded a bend in the path. Should he slow down? Stop? He was about to ask when he felt Deela tense.

She yelled. “Go. Go as fast as you can. They’re here.”

Marshall flushed with heat as adrenaline coursed through his body. He pressed on the throttle, and the sled picked up speed. His peripheral vision caught a flash of light before it impacted the rear flap. The force nearly threw him over the windshield, but he held on. Blast after blast of powerful beams struck the snow and trees around him, some hitting parts of the snowmobile as he took a serpentine path, trying to evade the attack.

The portal lay ahead. He pressed on the throttle and sped up as much as he dared without crashing. He focused on the shimmering circle ahead of him—almost there. As they reached the magical realm entrance, a blast from one of the wizards struck the hood, sending the sled violently to the right. Fighting to retain control, they slid through the portal sideways.

Marsh felt in limbo… he floated in a psychedelic haze, glittering colors swirling about him. He knew Deela’s arms encircled his chest and that he was on the sled, but the sensation was surreal. It ended with a thud as the snowmobile crashed into a snowbank. He struggled to pull his leg from the snowbank and, when free, realized that Deela was missing.

“Deela?”

A mound of snow moved, and he spotted a scrape of blue fabric. He frantically dug her out. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

Loud, popping noises startled him as several people appeared from thin air—an older man with raven hair and the same cornflower blue eyes as Deela rushed to her.

“Daughter, you made it. Do you have the proof?”

“Yes, I have it. Marshall helped me get it here.”

The wizard spoke. “Nuarte, bring our guest. Let’s go home.”

Nuarte grabbed his forearm, and in a wink, the snow around Marshall vanished, replaced by a wood-paneled room covered in tapestries, golden chandeliers, and an enormous fireplace, ablaze with a fire that filled the room with warmth.

He was standing next to Deela. “Your father?”

“Yes, Avone, he is the archmage, the head of our realm. He married my mother, who was a fairy.”

“So, you can marry?” He felt a bit confused as to why that fact pleased him.

She smiled. “We are human with special abilities. There is much I need to tell you.”

The archmage spoke. “Gather around. Deela, please show us the information you retrieved from Onor.”

She touched the sapphire stone hanging on her neck, which began to glow, displaying the image of a wizard who appeared to be a contemporary of Avone. The image became animated as the man started to talk.

“We have the Lavaren crystal.” The man he suspected was Onor held up a large tubular dark green crystal. “The power that Avone desires is ours. We can now return to our realm and take what is ours.”

The image faded, and the gathered wizards and witches were silent until Avone spoke. “The crystal exists as legend has told.” He looked toward his daughter. “Deela, when are they planning to make their assault?”

“They are not ready. They have not yet been able to activate the stone.”

Avone pointed toward a far wall where a leather book rested on the stand. “We have the key to the crystal’s power. We must plan our attack to retrieve it from Onor.”

Marshall, invited to stay, listened with keen interest as the magicals planned to recover the crystal. They paused for dinner and then continued well into the night. As the others filed out, he wandered to the stand, curious about the book. That it was old was not in doubt, the ornate carved leather worn, and the lettering faded. He traced the letters with a fingertip, the language unknown.

“The book is beautiful, is it not?” Deela stood beside him. “It is the spell book belonging to the archmage upon our arrival on your world.”

“Arrival?”

“Come sit with me. You should know our story.”

They settled on a couch in front of the fireplace. “We are human but not of your world. Eons ago, the magicals opened the portal to your world. We discovered non-magicals who, at first, were quite frightened of us, but we learned to live in harmony. At least until a faction of Earthers became jealous of our powers and mounted an attack. We had allowed them to enter the realm at will, and legend tells that they stole the crystal which powers the pendium, a magical device that opens portals to other realms. With its theft, we have been unable to travel to other worlds for centuries.”

“Why do we not know of you now?”

“To heal the rift between us, we agreed to withdraw from your world and eliminate all memory of our existence.”

“But we have stories about wizards and fairies and trolls.”

“You know of trolls? You did not forget us? Fascinating.”

“What happened with Onor?”

“He coveted the position of archmage, but the elder council chose my father. Onor was livid and attempted to murder him. Thankfully, the majority of magical folks stood with him and defeated Onor. Onor and his henchmen fled to the Earthly realm and plotted against us. We travel to your realm often to learn more about you, to trade for goods, and to keep watch on Onor’s movements.”

Before she could continue, Avone joined them.

“Marshall, thank you for saving my daughter and bringing her home to us. You put your life in danger, and we will never forget that. As you know, we are mounting an attack on Onor tomorrow morning and feel that you will be safer here until we subdue him.” He turned to his daughter. “You need to get some sleep. Tomorrow is an important day.”

As Avone walked away, Marshall rose. “Archmage, I’d like to join you. I may not be much help, but I’ll do what I can.”

Avone dipped his head. “We can always use a strong heart in battle.”

After her father left, Deela whirled to face Marshall. “Why would you join us?”

“I came to the lodge to run from the most painful event in my life. My ex-wife killed my son. She is only obsessed with her own needs and couldn’t stand that my son cried to be with me. To hurt me, she killed him. After a jury convicted her of murder, I fled here to find my soul again. My son, Josh, was four, and he loved fairy tales. How could I not help you?”

Deela smiled gently, her eyes moist. “I will be pleased if you fight beside me.”

~~~

The information that Deela brought from the Earthly realm led the magicals to Onor’s headquarters, an abandoned warehouse in a large city. The magicals transported there and took their positions—Marshall with Deela as they approached the building.

Onor’s henchmen engaged them immediately. Marshall watched, awestruck, as the wizards and witches cast spell after spells toward each other. Deela was fighting the evil wizards and deflecting spells coming toward him. Frustration flared. He wasn’t any help at all.

He needed something to fight with, and as he searched for a weapon, one of Onor’s men rushed toward him, wand lifted. He had little time to think. He raised his hands, striking the inside of the wizard’s outstretched arms, knocking his wand away. Instinct kicked in, and he slammed his right knee as hard as he could into the man’s groin, sending the wizard into a writhing heap on the ground. They were undoubtedly human.

Marshall glanced to his right to see that Deela was watching, eyebrow raised. “Primitive.”

He shrugged. “Couldn’t think of anything else.”

She grinned. “Quite effective—I will remember that.”

Quelling the henchmen on the perimeter, Avone left magicals outside to protect the building and led the rest into the warehouse. Onor was waiting with two others. The crystal lay on a table before him, his wand poised above it.

“Ah… I see Deela managed to reach you before I retrieved the spell book. Not to worry. I will destroy you and take my rightful place.”

“That is not going to happen. The ones who believed in you, the ones you betrayed, surround this building. There is no escape. This is over.”

“For the magicals it is.” Onor began to chant, and the tip of his wand glowed.

Avone raised his wand, but Onor reacted, pointing his wand toward the archmage. Realizing Onor intended to cast the death spell on her father, Deela morphed into her minuscule size.

Standing beside her, Marshall gasped as she flew toward the wand in Onor’s hand. Before she could reach him, he used his other hand to knock her to the side, and she went reeling against a pillar and dropped to the floor.

Avone sent a beam of light from his wand but missed. One of Onor’s henchmen cast a stun spell on Avone, who fell to the floor. Trembling as rage rushed through him, Marshall searched for something to use as a weapon. He spotted a block of wood and darted to pick it up. As he spun back toward Onor, he hoped his baseball prowess hadn’t left him. He threw the block as if trying to throw a batter out at home plate. It hit its target, and Onor’s wand flew from his hand. Marshall rushed him, knocking him to the floor.

The magicals swarmed around and took control of Onor. Avone began to stir as Marshall rushed to Deela, who had morphed into human form. “You okay?”

“I am fine.” He helped her to her feet. “You have some unusual fighting skills.” She smiled. “You will have to teach me both of those moves.”

“Both? Well, okay.”

“Let’s get my father and the crystal and go home.”

~~~

Marshall leaned against the window, staring at the thick snow falling in the pale morning light. Several weeks had passed since he stood at the window and watched a tiny fairy fall to the snow. Weeks filled with wonder as he learned more about the magical and non-magical realms. Weeks that had helped him heal from the tragedy he had suffered. He would never forget his son or what happened to him, but talking with Avone about the sanctity of love, joy, and forgiveness bought a peace that he hadn’t expected. He was thankful for finding these wonderful people.

“I believe the idiom is a penny for your thoughts?”

He glanced over his shoulder at Deela, who joined him, carrying two coffee mugs. He kissed her, then took a mug and sipped the hot beverage. “You are getting the hang of using the coffee pot. This is good coffee.”

“My way is quicker, a flick of my wand, and there is coffee.”

“I appreciate you doing it my way—less weird for me.”

“We are both learning the ways of the other.”

He took another sip of coffee, delaying the next question he needed but didn’t want to ask. “You got in late last night. How did the meeting go?”

Deela walked away and curled up on the couch. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure how it would go.” She sipped her coffee, and Marshall’s heart raced as he waited, fearing bad news.

“You know my father has always thought we should return to our realm as he felt the non-magicals on your planet would reject our presence. And none of us knew that after we acquired the crystal, my father made a clandestine visit to our home realm. He returned unsure of our welcome after so many centuries.”

“I’m sorry, Deela.”

“Most of us are not sorry. We have reconnected with many who entered your world, many who didn’t follow Onor but assimilated into their new lives.” She rose, joining him at the window. “We voted to stay here and make the attempt to become part of your world. Avone presented the old documents from the time we lived in peace with each other. We know it won't be easy, but we want to make your home our home, too.”

Tears trailed down her cheeks, and he pulled Deela into his arms. “You are going to stay and make this your home?”

“Yes, our home.”

Marshall liked the sound of that.

Home. Where the snow fairy lived.