“He probably piled some feed sacks onto it. Move over.”
Noah crowded to one side but held on with both hands. Willow squeezed by, her body pressed close against him. Noah took the flashlight while she positioned herself with her shoulders against the hatch, and brought her legs up two rungs, compressing into a ball. She exhaled and gave a mighty upward shove by straightening her body. The hatch opened a few inches and stopped. With the load suspended, she moved her feet up another rung and compressed herself again. She prepared like a power lifter and thrust upward with a tremendous grunting effort that popped the hinges out of the frame. She tipped the entire load to one side with a crash and scrambled up the ladder. Noah followed more slowly. When his head popped out, Willow stood with her hands on her hips and a satisfied look on her face. Several large bags of feed lay strewn across the floor.
At least she’s breathing hard.
They clambered down the stairs. The big door stood open, where Shadow waited with wagging tail; he apparently had not deterred Jones, but was unhurt. Once out in the open, Noah took the lead.
“Let’s head south. He probably parked at the cemetery again.” Willow nodded her agreement.
No light flashed ahead, which didn’t surprise Noah considering the thick woods and twisting trail. They ran down the south trail, compromising quiet for speed. Soon, Noah slowed to a stop. Willow stopped, too, but Shadow continued to run ahead.
“What’s wrong?” Willow asked.
“This is useless,” Noah said. “We should go to the cottage and get things ready to leave. With flat tires, somehow.”
“We need to catch him, Noah. He’s going to come back with a gun.”
“You’re right. We know too much. He wants to kill us.”
“Not us. You.”
Gooseflesh ran down Noah’s back. He felt very alone.
Willow touched his arm. “I spawned a fairy Hunter when I revealed myself. He won’t hurt me, but you’re in his way. Noah, I can catch him.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
“I’ll knock him out from behind before he reaches his truck. He’s seen my wings, but he doesn’t know I can actually fly.”
Noah stared into her eyes.
I can’t lose you.
“I have to go right now,” Willow said. “I’m our only chance.”
Noah sighed and nodded. “No heroics. You don’t land and you stay invisible.” Willow stretched and shook her wings. Noah handed her the large knife, which she tucked into her belt.
“You look like a fairy fighter,” Noah said with a grin. He quickly became sober again. She placed a reassuring hand on his chest.
“I’ve been in tougher scrapes than this. I’ll be fine.” Her wings buzzed and she lifted a few feet off the ground.
“Be careful!” Noah implored.
Willow grinned. She flew away, but then darted back to Noah, hovering inches away. She grabbed his face and kissed him. Her wings buzzed loudly and she executed an incredible maneuver, leaning backward and zooming away while rolling over to flight position. As she reached the edge of normal vision in the darkness, she winked out of sight. Shadow, who had stopped a few dozen yards up the path, watched her zoom past, barked once and ran after her. A few seconds later her presence slipped away as the distance between them widened.
Noah followed Shadow’s lead, reciting every prayer for protection he could think of as he ran. He took a chance on the flashlight and lit his way, slowing when he reached the slick rock surface of the ravine. As he ran up the slope at the south end, he began to sense Willow’s emotions: anger, excitement, and fear.
A gunshot shattered the silence of the night. Noah stopped and switched off the light.
That was a thirty aught six.
Shadow burst into angry barking and ran ahead through the darkness. Willow’s emotions flooded through Noah. “Willow? Are you okay?”
NOT NOW!
Noah started moving again, feeling his way in the dark. He had to be getting close. A second shot rang out, followed shortly by a third.
To hell with being careful.
He switched on the flashlight and pounded down the path. He passed Shadow standing motionless on the path, yammering, eager to proceed but held back by Willow’s command.
Soon Noah saw a flashlight beam dancing among the trees. He got his bearings and switched his light off. Another shot sounded, accompanied by muzzle flash and indistinct swearing. Moving carefully, Noah approached the scene. He found a good vantage point behind a forked tree, perhaps a hundred feet from Jones, who was standing just outside the cemetery fence, holding a rifle in firing position.
Willow’s buzzing filled the air and her voice echoed through the woods. She threw taunts and insults at the angry Jones, who remained just as invisible behind his flashlight as the darting fairy. The light beam jerked wildly as he tried to follow her movements.
The light grew still; its ray lowered to the forest floor. Noah could make out the gun barrel, raised high and slowly swinging back and forth.
He’s tracking her by sound.
Willow continued her mobile tirade, until another shot rang out. Pain shot down Noah’s back at the same moment Willow’s buzzing faltered. Amid fluttering, a soft thud sounded in the dark, and then silence.
No!
“Got you!” Jones shouted. The clank of the rifle’s bolt action filled the silence. Jones’s shadowy figure moved forward, sweeping the trees with his flashlight.
Noah stepped from behind the tree, flipped on his flashlight and shined it towards Jones. “Over here, Chester! I’m who you really want. Let Willow go.”
Jones turned and squinted at the light, his face quickly turning demonic. He raised the rifle to his left shoulder. “You’re making this too easy.”
Noah stood still, staring at the barrel of the rifle. He lowered his flashlight, but Jones’s beam was trained on his chest.
I hope I’m right.
“Promise me you’ll leave Willow alone.”
“Like that will mean anything,” Jones said.
“We stupid Wiccans believe in reincarnation, you know. I could haunt you.”
Jones chortled. “You’re even dumber than I thought, Noah. Better pray to your Goddess.”
Just a little longer.
“I’ll say a prayer for you, too.”
“Don’t waste your time. You have very little left.”
The beam from Jones’s flashlight shimmered like a mirage. Noah let a smile creep across his features. The rifle moved slightly as Jones lowered his head to fire.
“Kiss your ass goodbye, Noah.”
A flash of silver gleamed and struck the rifle barrel with a metallic clang, throwing the weapon from Jones’s hands. In an instant Willow appeared, lunged at Jones and grabbed him by the windpipe with her left hand. She raised the knife to his neck with her right. Her wings arched high above her head, twitching violently.
Surprise painted Jones’s face, but morphed into terror.
“Feels different when the knife’s at your throat, doesn’t it, Chester?” Willow said.
Noah casually walked forward.
The fairy conquers the ogre.
Noah smiled at the amusing image of tiny Willow holding the comparative giant at her mercy. Her wings had settled; a quarter-sized hole marred the upper right one. Jones’s eyes flicked to Noah and he tried to speak, but Willow tightened her grip.
“You’ll speak when I allow it.” She tilted her head to one side, and then released his neck and fumbled inside his collar. “What’s this?” She pulled out a small amulet hanging around Jones’s neck. A quick jerk snapped the cord and pulled his head toward the knife. He gasped. Willow held a finger to her lips. “Shhh! Here, Noah, check this out.” She tossed the amulet in an arc over her head, and regained her grip on the big man’s throat.
Noah caught the amulet and examined it in the beam of his flashlight. “I bet you don’t need the knife anymore.”
Willow let go of Jones and
lowered the knife. Her energy surged through the air. She began to glow, beginning with her face and spreading over her body. Jones looked confused, but seemed to be regaining some confidence now that he’d been released. When Willow spoke, her voice boomed across the forest.
“On your knees!”
Jones fell to his knees so hard that Noah wondered if Willow had somehow made his legs disappear. The big man gasped for air, his face bewildered. Willow brandished the knife at his neck again. His head was slightly below her eye level.
“Lean your head back,” she roared.
Jones’s head snapped back, exposing his neck. Willow drew her arm back and held the knife high where Jones could see it. His eyes grew huge and round, and he began to quiver.
Her dark side emerges.
“P-please … please don’t kill me.”
Willow flashed the knife down in an arc, barely clearing his throat. Jones descended into sobs, his body heaving. Willow released her spell and allowed him to fall forward to his hands and knees. She patted his back.
“I’m not going to kill you, Chester. Fairies and Wiccans don’t do that. Besides, I want you to live with the knowledge that down inside, you’re nothing but a coward. Oh, and an asshole.” She turned her back on Jones and hugged Noah, then stepped back and gave him an admiring look. “You were willing to take a bullet for me.”
“I would take a bullet for you anytime, darlin’. But in this case, I didn’t need to worry.” He stepped away, picked up the rifle and aimed it at Jones, who had remained on his hands and knees. He cringed and started sobbing again. Noah pulled the trigger.
Click.
Noah held the gun out toward Willow. “Winchester Model 70 thirty aught six, just like my dad’s. I saw it in Chester’s gun safe the night we visited, in the front, where a guy keeps his favorite weapon.” He operated the bolt-action. “Nice rifle. It has a five shot magazine. The fifth shot made that hole in your wing. Which really hurt for a second, by the way.”
“I should have told you I was okay, but I wanted to get the gun away from him.”
“That’s what I guessed. I figured you weren’t hurt, you were clearly too pissed off.”
Willow giggled and turned back to Jones. “We still have to do something with him. Chester, is there any rope in your truck?”
Jones looked back and forth between them before answering. “Yes.”
“Good,” Willow said. “We’re not going to kill you, but we’ll need to keep you prisoner for a few days while we sort things out.”
“Prisoner?” His voice was raspy.
“Yes.” Willow hurled her voice. “Go get the rope.” Jones quickly rose, picked up his flashlight and walked toward the cemetery.
You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?
“Run, Chester.”
The big man grunted and began to trot. He vaulted the low iron fence and ran across the graves. His flashlight flew through air and fell. Something heavy thudded to the ground, and then all was still.
“Chester!” Willow shouted. “What are you doing?”
Silence.
Noah turned his flashlight toward the cemetery. It illuminated the bottoms of Jones’s boots, heels pointing up. “Uh-oh.”
They ran to the fence, vaulted over as Jones had, and cautiously advanced. With a loud bark, Shadow sailed over the fence and then stalked warily beside them.
Jones lay face down in the leaves. The right side of his head lay on the base of a headstone as if he slept, but the dull, lifeless eyes stared straight ahead through twisted and broken glasses. Blood ran down the standing portion of the stone that his face had struck.
Noah felt the neck for a pulse, and wasn’t surprised not to find one.
We didn’t intend this, Chester.
He shook his head at Willow. “He’s dead.”
Shadow sniffed the ground at Jones’s feet.
“Well, that’s the end of the Jones dynasty of terror,” Willow said. “Good riddance.” She paused, watching Shadow’s sniffing with interest. “Noah, come look,” she said. Noah trained the flashlight on the big man’s feet. Deer droppings covered the right boot bottom, and a large smashed pile of dark little pellets lay a few inches away on the leaves.
Noah looked up when Willow giggled. “What’s funny? The guy’s dead.”
Willow grinned. “I hope Daisy left this little pile. Karma at work.” Despite the grim scene, Noah smiled at the thought.
“Let’s go,” Willow said. “We need to take care of your arm. It’s killing me, so you must be miserable.” She rubbed the back of her right forearm.
“Willow, we can’t leave him here for someone to find. We should call the sheriff’s police and report this. It’s an accident, I guess, but there will be questions. The sheriff knows about the issues between you and Chester.”
Willow considered this for a moment. “I don’t want deputies traipsing all over the woods. Forensics is a lot better than it was thirty years ago. What happens if they find the cave, and my parents’ graves? Let him rot.”
“We can’t knowingly leave a dead body. It’s not right. And it’s illegal.”
Willow’s expression went cold. She stepped to the opposite side of Jones’s body. “Noah, I’ve told you fairies live a different existence. We don’t rely on regular law enforcement for help, and we don’t live within the bounds of the law. Your laws don’t always apply to our situations.”
My laws?
A bewildering distance came between them. Despite their love, a deep-seated, ancient difference remained between fairy and human.
The dark stone that stands between us. The thing you won’t discuss.
The fairy mystery.
Perhaps Willow’s warning not to love her was wise; there was much he did not know.
Noah’s mind raced over the last twelve days. The laughing, the crying, the flirting, the fighting, the dangers and the passion. His focus returned to the present and he gazed at Willow, barely visible in the darkness, standing resolutely with her arms folded across her bare chest. Although he could not see, he knew her wings twitched in agitation.
I know you. I want to know you more.
Noah stepped across Jones and stood before Willow. Turning his back on a body for the one he loved, dismissing the law and propriety, evoked the same terrifying feelings as plunging into a chasm. He stood before her, apprehensive, plummeting downward. Willow raised a hand to his cheek and light shone from it: a point of reference in the dark.
A light from the fairy world.
“Willow Brown,” he said. “My fairy friend. My lover. Teach me everything about fairies.” Willow’s face illuminated and a smile came to her beautiful features. He held her close and gently kissed her.
In the end, Willow conceded it wouldn’t be right to leave Jones lying in the leaves. When Noah reminded her she would have to face Janet Jones someday and answer the old woman’s insightful questions, she nodded her agreement.
Noah took a few precautions, hoping it wouldn’t be too obvious. He wiped both knives clean and placed them in their cases on the dead man’s belt. Willow cleaned the rifle of prints, clenched Jones’s hand and fingers around it in firing position, and then laid the weapon next to the body as if dropped. Using his handkerchief, Noah extracted Jones’s cell phone and placed it in his lifeless left hand. Working awkwardly, he dialed 911 using Jones’s thumb. Satisfied, they left for the cottage without further ceremony.
“Ow!”
Willow sat on the toilet stool while Noah applied rudimentary first aid to her injured head. He had insisted on addressing her injury first, hoping to stop his sympathetic headache.
“If you would sit still that wouldn’t happen.”
She hmph’d and continued eating the apple Noah had given her when she complained of hunger. “Why didn’t my amulet protect me? Ouch!”
“Sorry.” The bleeding had stopped, so Noah’s main task was cleanup. “Do you have any disinfectant?”
Willow stuck a finger in he
r mouth and held it up. “Just this.”
“To answer your question, we were at the center of a lot of evil energy. Your amulet was overcome, I guess. That’s probably why the hurling wouldn’t work. Maybe our magic for good wasn’t as strong as Jones’s energy for evil. Plus he had that amulet. I’m anxious to study it and see what’s inside. Might come in handy.”
Willow stared lightning bolts.
Noah continued working until satisfied he had removed all the dried blood and then cleaned the cut. With her hair flipped over the area the injury wasn’t visible except for the swelling, which he figured would be gone by morning.
They traded places and Willow went to work on Noah’s arm, carefully unwrapping and cleaning the injury. She jumped from the pain whenever Noah winced. He declined her offer of stitches, which seemed to disappoint her. She settled for a large butterfly bandage from Noah’s first aid kit and a tight gauze wrapping.
They moved to the kitchen, where Willow busied herself fixing a hummus sandwich. Noah slumped into a seat at the table, overcome with weariness. “Willow, that image you sent me of the stairway at the shed. Was it the same one your mother sent to you the night they died?”
“Yes.” She paused. “She didn’t aim it at me, though. I think it was for my father, and I just caught it, too. Mother was calling him to come help her, showing him where she was. She might have been in the same situation I was in tonight. Father didn’t reach her in time, or he didn’t succeed in fighting Armstrong.”
Willow sat down across from Noah and ate her sandwich in silence.
Exhaustion overcame them and they stripped off their clothes and climbed into bed. Willow rolled Noah onto his back and snuggled close in their favorite position, she on her stomach, half on top of him. She stretched her wings and shook them, then let them slowly settle over both their bodies. Sleep came in seconds.
Noah awoke deep in the night with a warm little hand caressing him to arousal. He opened his eyes to a bright glow all around him. Even Willow’s eyes appeared to glow, in a face of pure lust.
“Fairy lesson number one,” she said, her voice low and raspy. She climbed atop him and straddled his body, leaning forward on the bed to bring her face close to his. “After prolonged periods of extreme stress, fairies need sex.” With a swift motion of her hips, she joined Noah to her. “Lots of sex.” She slid her hands down his torso as she raised herself upright.