Violet

His purple eyes watched the light as it faded to a softly descending glow. Soon, it would again be a normal downpour. He glanced to Allison, his mind running silently. After a long quiet, he cleared his throat to get her attention. He was sure she was lost in her own thoughts, because she jumped and looked over at him incredulously. A disarming smile formed on his lips. He had already learned what had happened to her finger; it was sad, but not all that difficult to process. There had been many instances when he had come across the corpse of an unlucky soul, like the mangled body of a newborn fairy snatched away from its mother, and each time he was thankful for his own fortune.

“There are a few things you should know before you go out again,” he said, cradling Nicodemus to his chest. He could almost feel Allison’s stare, though he had averted his eyes. “One,” his gaze met hers. “Don’t stand still. If you stop moving, the forest will think you’re tired and attack.” In response to her narrowed eyes, he said, “I’m serious. The plants here will gobble you up like a Thanksgiving turkey faster than you can click your heels and wish for home.”

He stood and let the bat crawl to and hang from his back. “C’mere,” he murmured, beckoning her to him. He pulled open the front door of the house and stepped out into the soft drizzle that had begun. Stretching and letting it sprinkle his face, he sighed happily. “This is the best weather to hunt in,” he said over his shoulder. He started talking about all the different kinds of meat that could be found, while he scanned his eyes over the tree line. In the middle of a sentence, he stopped and turned to grab her arm and pull her out to him.

“What the hell!?” she spat, trying to rip her arm from his grip. He held on tighter and told her to shut up. She obeyed grudgingly, following his line of sight through the grey haze of the forest. The feather trees shivered every so often, shedding water as it collected on their leaves. She saw little round things shuffling through the dirt, but it was hard for her to make out what they actually were. She decided that they were foreign and deserved no further investigation. Yawning lightly, she peered into the trees.

What a pretty dream, she thought as she saw colorful creatures skitter around. This is almost as real-looking as –

Donnie lifted his arm and pointed, and when she followed the direction, her eyes widened. There was a small, almost blue-skinned woman standing in the rain. Her legs and arms were bare, though decorated with jewels and markings. She held a long, white staff in one hand, and what looked like a knife in the other. When Allison looked closer, she thought she could see feathers in the woman’s orange hair.

She cried something in a whistle-like language, thrusting her staff into the air. Donnie’s arm was crossed over Allison’s front, instinctively protecting her from what was no harm. After a moment, more people began to emerge from the wet shadows of the forest. A tiny one, no taller than two feet, danced ahead and twirled around in the rain. It looked like a little girl with long, white hair and green-tinted skin. She continued to prance around until a woman whistled and called her back. From the center of the small group came a procession of four people carrying a fifth on their shoulders. It was a man in a white robe. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his eyes were closed.

“Is this… a funeral?” she whispered, looking around at all the crooked tombstones and empty graves. Donnie nodded and told her to shush, gently this time.

It was just like any funeral she had seen on television; they carefully placed the body in its designated grave, sprinkled some dirt on it, and then sang. At least, she thought it was singing. It sounded like a chorus of flutes all playing the same tune, at all different pitches. When it was over, she waited until the last of them was gone, then spoke.

“What are those things? They look kind of like people, but… they’re short and blue.”

Donnie smiled wisely. “They are fair folk. Faeries, if you will.”

“What were they saying?”

“I haven’t learned their language yet,” he said quickly, obviously flustered by this. “I’ve been trying since I got here.”

Allison contemplated this for a minute, ignoring the droplets of soft rain falling on her. Her eyes moved sightlessly over the terrain, taking in this dream without forsaking a single detail. “How long has it been?”

He looked up at her, then turned to look in the house. “Three years.” Without another word, he went back inside and started moving things around with an invisible purpose.

“That’s a long time.”

“Yeah.” No shit, Sherlock. “Some of them speak English, by the way.”

“Really?” Her curiosity piqued, she came inside and closed the door behind her. “Where do they live?”

He gnawed on his lip as he took the fruit from his bag and put it in a bowl on the table. “Most of them live in the city. There are some that migrated to the other regions.”

“What other regions?”

Sitting on the table, he looked at her with bright eyes. “Wonder is like one big continent of awesome. It’s cut up into five different realms. Every one has a duke or duchess. There’s the desert, tundra, plains, city, and jungle.” He reached to the side and picked up what looked like a blue pear and took a bite out of it. Chewing thoughtfully, he gestured toward the window. “We’re in the tame half of the jungle.”

Allison brushed her shoe over a spot on the ground and sat, holding her hurt hand in her lap. “Do you interact with the faeries?”

He laughed heartily and leaned forward to look in her eyes. “They think I’m a demon.” He grinned and howled into the air. “They think I change shape and eat their children in the night.”

“Whoa.” She smiled and watched him with the interest of a child at a zoo. “How do you know?”

“Well, I have a friend.”

“You do? Where is she? Can I meet her? Does she speak English?”

Donnie stared at her until she closed her mouth. “He hasn’t come here in over a month. If he hasn’t moved, then he’s dead.”

Her pout was priceless. “But you’re boring. I want to meet a faerie.”

His expression asked: Are you serious? He rolled his eyes and continued eating his fruit. “This isn’t a game, you know.” He chewed for a moment, inspecting what rested in his hand. He still hadn’t gotten used to the strange flavor of the food here. “If he’s been killed, I’ll be very upset,” he said quietly, staring into space.

She stood and came up in front of him. “Mind if I try?” she asked, pointing at the pear-thing.

He shook his head and held it out to her. “Be my guest. Tastes like chicken.” He chuckled and watched her sour face as she bit into it. “Here, hold on a second.” Hopping off the table, he turned and went to the wall beside Nicodemus’ house, where he had carved several shelves for storage. There were a few jars and cans he had found or been given, one of which was tall and filled with water. He took it and brought it to Allison. “It’s clean, I promise,” he said when she sniffed at it.

She sipped from it and handed it back without a word. Her eyes followed him as he moved, glancing every few seconds at the window. It was growing darker outside. The sounds of the forest had risen and were singing to outshine the rain. “Hey… how long is a day here?”

He shrugged. “I had a watch when I first got here. A day here is only a couple hours longer than one at home.” Looking to the window, he sighed. “It’s pretty late. We should get some rest if I’m going to show you around tomorrow.”

Frowning, she set the fruit on the table. “What makes you think I’m going to stay with you?”

His laughter made her want to punch him. When he looked at her, he wiped at his eyes as if he had been laughing so hard he cried. “Uh, the fact that you won’t survive without me? Or maybe the idea that this is serious stuff and you’re treating it like a hide-and-seek game. Go to sleep, Allison.”

He plopped down in the corner of the room and almost immediately fell asleep.

Allison fumed quietly to herself for a little while, watching Nicodemus flit around the room and then swoop out the window like a dark bird. She decided, she would just go to sleep, then wake up and find she had fallen down the stairs or something. That was all; she had gotten in an accident. This was just a stupid trick her mind was trying to pull. It had happened before.

Her eyelids drooped, and soon she was dreaming in a dreamland.