Fairy-Tale
The drop is long and it makes my stomach shoot up inside of my body. I flinch and clench and, without even meaning to do it, I’m hovering. My whole body is suspended mid-fall and the shock of it causes my eyes to shoot open.
My power slips in when I need it to. When I don’t even mean to use it.
The sudden awareness causes my muscles to relax and, before I can celebrate for another millisecond, I’m falling again.
I don’t hit hard ground, however; I hit some sort of net. I puff out a relieved breath and call up to Marley.
“It’s safe, Marley! Alona, help him climb in!”
I can hear them manoeuvring his turn from above, while I roll away from the net and onto the ground. I expect it to be muddy and marshy, but it’s cold stone. I open my palm to create a kind of spark and it briefly illuminates the underground tunnel I have found myself in. It stretches far ahead of me, ending in darkness once more. Whatever lies ahead is a mystery.
I start as Marley’s body suddenly slams into the net beside me. Alona follows, gracefully transforming into a leaf before she hits the netting. She humanises once she’s safe and beams at the two of us. I haul Marley to his feet, smiling grimly at his horrified expression.
“Lucky this net is here,” I say, slapping his shoulder.
“Oh, it’s not a net, it’s an old Stoor Worm’s nest.”
Marley looks green which halts my curiosity about what kind of a creature that is. “Okay. That’s… great. So great. Are we going this way?”
I stare down the long tunnel, still nurturing the spark in my palm.
“Yes!” Alona says, delightedly.
We set off. I can feel water even though I can’t see any. The underground tunnel, which may in fact be a catacomb for extinct creatures, is eerily quiet. I can hear Marley’s anxious breathing but Alona is almost dancing; she is so relaxed.
“Where exactly are we going?” I ask.
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she signals for us to turn left, just up ahead. When we do, it leads us to a door shaped like a hexagon. I’m reminded of the very first time I went down to the real Grassmarket, hidden underneath Edinburgh.
Alona knocks a particular kind of knock and a small slot in the door slides open. Marley and I have to stifle gasps as three eyes stare out of the tiny space.
“Dryad?”
“Here to see Fog.”
The three eyes disappear and the strangely shaped door opens like a great vault, letting us inside. I stare up at the three-eyed Troll and then quickly look away.
Hidden Folk hate being stared at, just like any
other person.
The room we have entered is enough of a distraction. It’s an enormous, great hall with pillars and nooks on the side. In the centre is a massive pool. A bath, with hot steam rising from it. The water is the colour of marble and there are all kinds of Hidden Folk swimming happily inside it.
“Most Hidden Folk in these parts are water creatures,” Alona tells us conversationally. “So, they like to relax here.”
I’m wary of seeing that Ceasg in the large bathing pool but it seems to be full of Blue Men and a few Hulders. They relax in the heat, their tails splashing about happily.
“This is weird, even for Hidden Folk,” Marley says wearily, following me as I track Alona through the
great hall.
As we make our way through the crowds gathered around the large bath, a hand reaches out from one of the nooks and grabs my elbow.
“Fancy a palm reading?”
“No, thanks, I’m good…” the words die on my lips as I lay eyes upon a very elderly woman who appears to be carrying her own head.
“Oh, my g—”
“Hulder,” Alona suddenly reappears, gently steering me away from the jarring sight. “Once they’re a few centuries old, their heads fall off and they have to carry them. You’ll get used to it.”
“No,” Marley and I both say in chorus. “We won’t.”
Alona leads us down to the back of the hall, where a little nook houses a man in green robes. He looks to be in some sort of trance. He is about my dad’s age and he seems entirely human.
“Fog!” Alona slips into the space next to him. There is a little stone table in front of them, with seating all around it. I can tell by Alona’s tone of voice that this is someone she respects and cares about.
I slip into one of the seats across from the two of them and Marley joins me, quickly.
“These are my new friends,” Alona says, and she places extra meaning in the word ‘friends’, trying it out on her tongue, tasting it, as if she has never been able to say it before. “Ramya and Marley.”
I can’t remember if we ever actually told Alona our names but, then again, she has been listening to all of us outside the house for some time. I’m reminded of the fact that she was able to find the house, which must mean that she does not wish any harm upon us.
I can’t really imagine Alona wishing harm on anyone. She has the nature of a Labrador.
“This is Fog,” she tells us. “He made me.”
