Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“I know not, nor does my lord. We don’t travel the rifts. We have no need of them to come and go.”
I knew that.
Nymphs, like others who tracked and hunted across planes, had the ability to open and close doors to return those that did not belong in other realms. Smaller fae, like fairies, brownies, sprites, púcas, and goblins, to name a few, could slip in and out through practically any crack in the dimensional walls. Also, there were so many patches of magic left all over the world that could be used for crossing from one realm to the other, which accounted for new species of birds, insects, fish, and mammals that popped up from time to time. My grandfather would always point out something from the fae realm when he saw them on the news, knowing that was not simply the natural world at work.
“If a creature is nonsensical, you know it’s not of our realm,” he would say.
Conversely, when people saw extraordinary creatures, like a sasquatch in the woods, a dinosaur in a lake, or a man who was part moth, I never doubted. Those were portals of forgotten magic that allowed an entry and an exit at nearly the same exact moment, the delay accounting for the fuzziness of a picture, there one second, gone the next.
But a rift was needed for something powerful, like a god or goddess, to purposely travel between dimensions. Moreover, when something less than a deity, but stronger than a member of the fae, moved through a rift that was not meant for them, that could barely accommodate their power during the passage from one realm to another, the result was that the portal, once the destination was reached, was incinerated. It was like cauterizing a wound, the heat sealing the tear.
“Did you hear me?” she asked impatiently.
“Of course I heard you, but…” I was still shaking, absorbing her words and terrified of them at the same time. Because what she was telling me was that something very big and scary was in my town. And after working hard last fall to keep out an invader, only to have another show up now, I was both horrified and feeling like a huge failure.
“Why tremble in fear?”
I glanced at her.
“This cannot be changed. You have no recourse but to hunt down whatever dark thing crossed over and either kill it or send it on its way.”
I exhaled sharply. “You make it sound so easy.”
“Not easy. Simply the task at hand.”
Looking at her, at the resolve on her face, somehow made me feel better. And she was right. I was the guardian of Corvus, and Corvus was in Osprey, so therefore, much like the man I loved, I was responsible for the safety of the town. My town.
“Okay,” I said after a moment, walking a few feet away from her and then back, needing to move as I was nearly vibrating with nervous energy. “So do you or your lord have any thoughts on what could have come through?”
“Only that it was not any of the fae. It was other.”
“Other?”
“Yes. Not from our realm, not from Olympus, the Trimurti, the Tuatha Dé Danann, the Great Ennead, or any other realm of gods known to us.”
That was sobering. “What about a lot of the fae at once? Could that do it? I only ask because there seem to be a lot of them at this carnival.”
“There are,” she agreed. “And my sisters and I would have culled any that were malignant. But you have only elves in your midst, along with fairies, dryads, and fauns. You know as well as I do that those races pose no threat to humans. Furthermore, they all traveled here with the matron of the carnival, a descendant of Nintur, who keeps both her fae and humans safe from the horrors of your world, that is far from kind.”
She wasn’t wrong about keeping people safe. That was sorely needed. “So none of them came through the rift Nott used to guard.”
“Correct. Fear none from this carnival, they come in peace, merely to entertain.”
I sighed deeply.
“You hoped it would be simple.” She reached out, took hold of my bicep, and squeezed gently. “I understand that desire.”
“Easiest would be best,” I acknowledged, covering her hand for a moment, then letting go.
“Though you know as well as I, if some visitors fall under the influence of the fae, they will make the decision to leave with them.”
“By influence, you’re not implying they’re bespelled,” I clarified. “You mean the natural beauty and charisma of the fae.”
“Yes. The same way some are enchanted by alluring humans, so are many enthralled by those whose only magic lies in what they are.”
“Which makes leaving purely a choice.” I knew this, but it never hurt to double-check.
“Of course.”