The Stolen Child(13)

boughs was thick with a strange perfume, which made me feel dizzy, light-headed, and slightly

nau-seous. Luchóg and Smaolach fell under the same spell, but they merely seemed content,

simultaneously alert and peaceful. The sleet began to taper off, and silence returned like a lost friend.

"Did you hear that?"

"What is it?" I asked.

Luchóg shushed me. "First, listen to see if you hear it." A moment later, the sound came to me, and

though familiar, its substance and origin mysti-fied me.

Luchóg sprang to his feet and rousted his friend. "It's a car, little treasure. Have you ever chased an

automobile?"

I shook my head, thinking he must have me confused with a dog. Both of my companions took

hold of my hands and off we went, running faster than I had ever imagined possible. The world whirred

by, patches and blurs of darkness where trees once stood. Mud and snow kicked up, mottling our

trousers as we sped on at an insanely giddy pace. When the brush grew thicker, they let go of my hands

and we raced down the trail one behind the other. Branches slapped me in the face, and I stumbled and

fell into the muck. Scrambling to my feet, cold and wet and dirty, I realized I was alone for the first time

in months. Fear took hold, and I opened my eyes and ears to the world, desperate to find my friends.

Fierce pains of concentration shot across my forehead, but I bore down and heard them running through

the snow in the distance. I felt a new and powerful magic in my senses, for I could see them clearly,

while realizing that they should be too far ahead and out of sight. By visualizing my way, I gave chase,

and the trees and branches that had con-fused me before now seemed no obstacle. I whipped through

the woods the way a sparrow flies through the openings in a fence, without a thought, fold-ing up its

wings at the right moment, gliding through.

When I caught up, I found they were standing behind the rough pines short of the forest edge.

Before us lay a road and on that road a car had stopped, its headlights streaking through the misty

darkness, broken pieces of the metal grille glistening on the asphalt. Through the open driver's door, a

small light shone in the empty cab. The anomaly of the car pulled me toward it, but the strong arms of my

friends held me back. A figure emerged from the darkness and stepped into the light, a thin young

woman in a bright red coat. She held one hand to her forehead, and bending slowly, she reached out

with her free arm, nearly touching a dark mass lying in the road.

"She hit a deer," Luchóg said, a note of sadness in his voice. She agonized over its prostrate form,

pulling her hair back from her face, her other hand pressed against her lips.

"Is it dead?" I asked.

"The trick," said Smaolach in a quiet voice, "is to breathe into its mouth. It's not dead at all, but in

shock."

Luchóg whispered to me. "We'll wait until she's gone, and you can in-spire it."

"Me?"

"Don't you know? You're a faery now, same as us, and can do anything we can do."

The notion overwhelmed me. A faery? I wanted to know right away if it was true; I wanted to test

my own powers. So I broke away from my friends, approaching the deer from the shadows. The

woman stood in the middle of that lonesome road, scanning in both directions for another car. She did

not notice me until I was already there, crouching over the animal, my hand upon its warm flank, its pulse

racing alongside my own. I cupped the deer's muzzle in my hand and breathed into its hot mouth. Almost

immediately, the beast lifted its head, shouldered me out of the way, and rocked itself up into a stand-ing

position. For an instant, it stared at me; then, like a white ensign, its tail shot up a warning, and the deer

bounded into the night. To say that we—the animal, the woman, myself—were surprised by this turn of

events would be the most severe understatement. She looked bewildered, so I smiled at her. At that

moment, my comrades started calling to me in loud whispers.

"Who are you?" She wrapped herself tighter in that red coat. Or at least I thought those were her

words, but her voice sounded alien, as if she were speaking through water. I stared at the ground,

realizing that I did not know the true answer. Her face drew close enough for me to detect the beginning

of a smile on her lips and the pale bluegreen of her irises behind her glasses. Her eyes were splendid.

"We must go." From the darkness, a hand grasped my shoulder, and Smaolach dragged me away

into the bushes, leaving me to wonder if it had all been a dream. We hid in a tangle while she searched

for us, and at last she gave up, got in her car and drove off. I did not know it at the time, but she was the