Snatched

After the awkward hug was done, John got his stuff and made ready to go home, pleased that he could help me. Before he left, he asked if there was anything else I needed.

“No.” I answered. “I don’t need anything. Thanks, though.”

“Okay, goodbye!” he said cheerfully, and walked off.

I shook my head at him and started washing dishes. Megan came back into the living room.

“So why don’t you two just kiss and get it over with?” she asked while typing on her phone.

I saw this as a prime opportunity to bring up my status as a senior, something that to be used before it was too late.

“You do not understand the complexities of human relationships, puny freshman!” I announced broadly. “But one day you will know, as I know, what it means to be platonic with a man, and the wisdom of such friendships.” She was staring at me strangely, so I went back to washing dishes and said in an ordinary tone, “Also, I think we’d break up within a week.”

She left it at that, but all the same, I felt very empty. When I finished cleaning up after dinner, I realized that I’d forgotten to print some homework. This meant I would have to go back to the library on campus and print it out there. This day just kept getting better and better. I groaned and grabbed my student I.D. card and a jacket, since it was around sunset and would be getting chilly soon. As I ran out the door I looked at the lawn where the scroll had landed.

It was gone.

It took a moment to shake away the ridiculous mental image of a proud squirrel parent bringing that parchment home and turning it into a shelter. “Look, kids! I brought you... a TENT!” and the little ones cheering ‘Yay!” No, some passing student had probably picked it up and thrown it away.

The evening was windy and dry, much like that afternoon had been. There were a few students scattered, here and there, all looking worn out. I glanced towards the gardens, where the letter had said to meet. I shook my head and kept walking. I wasn’t going there. Something was going on, though. Maybe the wind was just being unpredictable and crazy, but I got goosebumps on my arms. I walked around the corner of the library building and had to turn my head sharply to the right as a strong gust of wind blew dust in my direction. I blinked and moved my hand to rub the grit out of my eyes.

There are several kinds of faery dust. Some can make you to fall in love with the first animate being of the opposite sex that you see. Others can make you fall into a deep, deep sleep for extended periods of time. And then there are the cheaper kinds: some make you sneeze violently, or enshroud objects you don’t want others to see, etc. The dust that got into my eye was of the cheapest variety (the Faery King likes to save money for his dessert industry) -- the dust that gets stuck in your eye, and keeps irritating you until you’re so distracted that you have to rub it, and then you are snatched and in the Faery World before you know what’s happening — all very neatly accomplished, and only three pennies per measure at the market!

            I blinked, and was in the Faery world. My eyes had to adjust from dusk to dark, and then I could see that I was in some sort of dusty, cluttered room -- the same room that I had saved Ciaran’s life in, but without the books and papers. There was the dusty wood table and the two chairs, and in front of me were three men. One of them was hugely tall and muscular, one was shorter than the other two (about my height), and the last, of course, was the kidnapping culprit: Ciaran (apparently a faery prince?) himself.

These men began speaking all at once and pulling on my arms.

“What? Let go of me!” I reacted naturally.

“Ashlyn, you have to come with us, quickly!” Ciaran said.

“No! Why? I was about to go --”

“This is more important!”

“There’s no time for this!” The huge one cut in (with a very deep voice).

“He could be here any minute! Please!” the shorter one added.

Ciaran took my struggling hands. “Please, Ashlyn, trust me.” I made the mistake of looking into his eyes: wide, dark, and earnest.

In the moment that I hesitated, the two other men threw a blanket over my head and picked me up, shushing and whispering frantically as I struggled furiously. They carried me out the door of the cottage and into the blue dusk of the evening to some horses, who were neighing nervously.

“At least let me see!” I hissed. Someone pulled the blanket down in a swift tug. It was Ciaran. He fastened a clasp at my neck that I didn’t know existed, forming a hood over my head.

“Ohh.” I said. It was actually a cloak. They were elegant kidnappers, at least.

He practically tossed me onto the bare back of a horse, and climbed up behind me. “Let’s go, let’s go!”

The horses sprinted to a gallop quickly. It was a bumpy ride. Cold, too. The wind was strong and icy, but Ciaran was keeping my back warm, at least. His arms were around me so he could hold his horse’s mane (only practical, but I still resented it), and there were linen bandages on them, where his once-nice white shirt was ripped and stained with blood. The sight of the bandages cooled my anger a little. He hadn’t brought me here for romantic reasons. Still, his timing was bad.

I wasn’t used to horses. I’d only ever ridden one twice in my life, and had a hard time staying on without slipping to one side or the other. The large man (I guessed he was a faery) kept reaching back and throwing dust behind us. I watched it land and saw the hoof prints of the horses disappear. I turned my head back and called over the sound of the galloping hooves. “Where are we going?”

“Through the gate. We’re almost there.”

“The gate? You’re going to charge into the campus gardens on horseback?!”

“Not into the gardens.” Ciaran corrected me.

The shorter, younger faery riding next to us pulled out what looked like a slingshot and a little ball, a little smaller than a baseball. On his right wrist was a ring of keys, like a large charm bracelet, one of which he used to unlock the ball. It started to glow, faintly at first. He put the ball in the slingshot and aimed toward the door between the two cedar hedges.

It flashed a second before we entered it, and on the other side was a place I’d never seen before. It was a thick, dark forest, with no roads, and no people. When all three horses and four riders were through, the shorter faery pulled his empty slingshot back again, and the glowing ball came flying back to him. The hedges disappeared, and the faery turned his horse around and caught up with us.

“I don’t think he can track us from here. Can we stop now?” he asked asked the other two. I nodded emphatically. Ciaran and the huge faery (who was dark in complexion, like a shadow) looked at each other. The huge faery shook his head.

“We should keep going, sire.”

The short faery and I both groaned, but weren’t going to argue with a man of his size, and neither was Ciaran. The huge faery dismounted and lit a lantern with a wave of his hand.  The shorter faery also dismounted, and Ciaran helped me down. We began trudging through the thick underbrush, when suddenly it hit me, what the large man had said.

“Wait,” I said. “‘Sire?’” I looked at the short faery, and back at Ciaran.

            “Oh, right, sorry.” Ciaran apologized. “Ashlyn, allow me to introduce you.” he said, as the short faery smiled, pulled down his hood, and bowed magnificently. 
            “This is Donal, the Faery King.”