Текст книги "See Me"
Автор книги: Wendy Higgins
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See Me
by
Wendy Higgins
Dedication
To the Hornback Zoo ~
My brother Frank, sister-in-law Heather,
Davin, Frank Jr., Hanna, Tyler, and Jackson ~
May the winds be always at your back
PROLOGUE
CECELIA MASON HAD NEVER been more frightened. Their infant, Robyn, was fast asleep in the carrier against her chest. Leon squeezed Cecelia’s hand as they entered the Fae realm through a lower portal in the Irish countryside. They hadn’t wanted to bring Robyn into the land of Faerie, but they couldn’t leave her in the U.S.
Cecelia closed her jacket over the bulge of fabric. A lifetime of service to the unpredictable Fae had taught them not to show emotion or draw attention to themselves. They wore their plainest clothes. Cecelia went without make-up and had pulled her brown waves into a low bun. The couple, human except for the magic imbedded in their blood, cringed as they pushed through the thick barrier of atmosphere between realms.
A portal guard recognized the Dightheach signatures of the human “helpers” and led them through the vine-covered labyrinth to a clearing. Soft light poured overhead from a sky of pastel swirls and music played like chimes. Cecelia, distrustful of the land’s magnetic pull, braced herself against an onslaught of delectable Fae sensory.
They were ushered into a gossamer tent lined with flowers that reached and wound around one another in dazzling displays of color. On a bed of petals lounged a female Fae with hair like shimmering cinnamon, eyes as vividly yellow as dandelions. Cecelia recognized the Fae woman as Martineth, the Alpha consort who ran the southern regions of Faerie for the Summer King. At her feet, a handsome human man with lost, fanatic eyes lavished her skin with gentle kisses.
The Masons were careful not to show their terror at the sight of Martineth. A light sheen of sweat across their brows and dampened palms could not be helped. They stood very still while Martineth’s yellow eyes traveled over them like guinea pigs in a pet shop—possible sources of entertainment. Cecelia, full of new mother ferocity, crossed her arms over her chest to cuddle Robyn closer.
“Leave me.” Martineth’s voice was lackadaisical as she waved off the human at her feet. He made a pathetic sound and kissed her ankle. She attempted to pull her legs free and swatted at him like a moth, but he mumbled and clung to her, desperate. “Take him,” she ordered the guard.
The Fae guard lifted the man with a yank and left them alone. Leon kept a straight face and averted his eyes from the King’s consort as he delivered his report of their region in the U.S. over the past year, reciting the numbers of eleven Fae who entered illegally into the earthly realm and the twenty-three human memories that were altered by Leon as a result. The report went better than hoped, faster. To Cecelia’s relief, their business must have bored Martineth; she gave a wide yawn and moved to dismiss them.
In that moment, a tiny mew rose from the carrier buried under Cecelia’s jacket.
Cecelia turned to leave. Again, baby Robyn made a noise. This time as a whimper that built into a mild cry.
Leon cleared his throat as his wife was set to exit. “Good day, my Lady,” he told Martineth, whose head had cocked to the side with curiosity.
“Stop.” Her voice carried to them like a bell.
The couple turned their heads, all innocence and nerves.
Martineth’s voice was a slow drawl. “What was that sound?”
“I’m sorry?” asked Leon.
Robyn took that inopportune moment to vocalize again and her parents shared a defeated, horrified glance. Martineth’s eyes were wide as she stared at the wiggling mass against Cecelia’s chest.
“What have you brought into our land?”
“It’s only our child,” Cecelia explained in an offhand tone. “Probably needs to be changed. Nasty business. We won’t keep you, my Lady.”
They turned again, only to be stopped once more by the snap of her clear voice.
“I have never seen a newly born human. Show me.”
The Faerie was sitting up now, stray petals floating down from layers of gown. Her inquisitive stare and eager tone made Cecelia tremble on the inside. With slow movements, Cecelia opened her jacket and unclasped the carrier from her shoulder. All grace, the King’s consort stood and glided forward. Robyn, only weeks old, squinted and quieted as the pleasant light washed over her. Cecelia had a sudden fervent wish that Robyn was bald and funny-looking like so many precious babies she’d seen. Instead, the consort admired an inch-plus of wavy chestnut hair, rounded pink cheeks and the sweetest puckered mouth. Chocolate eyes and black lashes blinked at the Faerie. Beauty.
Martineth’s bright eyes filled with wonder. “So small,” she marveled. “Her skin appears as soft as down.”
Cecelia inched backward, an animalistic intuition of warning rising up in her. As the Faerie woman raised a perfect, slender hand to the baby’s cheek, Cecelia yanked the child away and all but shouted, “No—don’t touch her!”
The temperature around them rose as the Faerie’s eyes shone like fire. Her hand froze in mid-air.
“My Lady,” Leon broke in. “Our human physician told us not to let anyone handle her while she’s so young. Infants are too fragile. Please forgive my wife. Her body and mind are still transitioning from the birth.”
His demeanor was calm, but his wife recognized thinly veiled panic behind his eyes. She fought for composure when all she wanted to do was run.
“I’m very sorry, my Lady.” Cecelia pushed out the apology. “I know the touch of a Fae alters a human’s mind. We don’t know how it would affect a newborn. I would hate for her to lose the ability to be of service to the Summer King someday.”
Martineth studied Cecelia, eyes a swirl of sunshine and heat.
“I assume you have reported the birth of this child?” the Faerie challenged.
“Of course, Lady Martineth,” Leon said with respect.
To fail reporting a Dightheach child would mean death to its parents. Everyone with magical blood was expected to serve.
After another long stare at Cecelia and more greedy gazing at the child, the consort tapped her sharp chin. An ominous expression crossed her face, as if an idea were hatching.
“I can see why you are attached to the child.” The consort leered at the couple and walked a slow circle around them, glimmering hair falling in waves down her back. “She is a thing of beauty.” Martineth stopped in front of Cecelia and peered down at the baby. “Beautiful things have a way of disappearing in the night.”
The threat bolted through Cecelia with swift understanding. Her knees threatened to buckle as Leon spoke with hardened care.
“What is it that you wish from us, my Lady?”The consort chuckled. “I have a future mate for her—a binding which will greatly please the King.”
As a proud, wicked grin enhanced the Faerie’s fiery eyes, a burden of dread settled onto Cecelia’s shoulders for her daughter’s future. A future which was now as good as sealed.
CHAPTER ONE
THE END OF HIGH school was bittersweet. My sister and I drove home in the dark from a graduation party to our house in Great Falls, Virginia, a woodsy town of hills and cliffs nestled between cities of concrete. I was so glad to have Cassidy. Even now she sensed my mood as I pulled into our driveway and cut the engine. I stared absently at the porch swing illuminated by the motion-censored light. We’d shared years of secrets on that wooden swing.
“Tonight was fun, huh?” Cass asked carefully.
I nodded. “Yeah. Fun, but… weird too.”
“Yeah,” she whispered. And then to cheer me she added, “I can’t believe the graduating football players streaked. I did not need to see all that. My ears still hurt from everyone screaming.”
I snorted.
I’d made some great friends, especially my soccer teammates, but I couldn’t tell them about my family or the Fae, or the real reason I was going to Ireland tomorrow while they were all headed for post-graduation Beach Week.
“I can’t believe it’s time for you to go already.” Cassidy stared at the house. “No more sneaking to D.C. with my big sis and glamouring ourselves in fancy dresses.” I had to smile at the memory. We hadn’t bothered doing our hair or make-up that night. We used our magical glamour to sneak into a club and make us look done up. We’d been exhausted after an hour of dancing from the effort of keeping up fake appearances.
I took her hand and my heart tightened with our inevitable separation.
“Let’s not get sad,” I told her. “Come on.”
It was midnight when we let ourselves in. Mom and Dad’s luggage sat next to the door, ready to go. Our parents lounged on the couch, Dad reading. If this were a normal night they’d have been in bed hours ago. Mom had apparently been reading, too, but had fallen asleep with her head on his lap and a book on her chest. At the sound of our footsteps, she sat up and pushed back her dark hair.
“There’s my girls,” Dad said, jovial despite the late hour. He put his book on the coffee table. “Tell us all about the party.”
We sat on the couch across from them.
“It was okay,” I told him, trying to hide my sadness.
Tension crowded around us. We were all probably thinking the same thing: This is our last night with me at home. How weird. I didn’t want to think about it. Mom, ever the peacemaker, cleared her throat.
“You said good-bye to all your friends then?” She’d been away from her homeland of Ireland for twenty years but her voice still held a soft lilt and inflection, which I’d always envied.
“Yeah,” I said.
Cassidy stretched her mouth wide for a loud yawn, not bothering to cover her mouth. It was contagious—I yawned next, then Mom.
“Look at my tired girls. We should call it a night,” Dad said. “Big day tomorrow. Thankfully we can sleep on the plane, huh?”
Nervousness tightened around me like twine.
“I hope you both finished packing,” Mom said.
“Mine is pretty much done,” I told her. “I just have to bring it down.”
“Mine’s almost done,” Cass said, yawning again.
Mom shook her head and focused on me. “How are you, Robyn? Are you ready for this?”
I gave her a reassuring smile, despite the tightening sensation. “I’m fine. Ready to see what Ireland has in store for me.”
“Well, come here.” Dad stood, tall and imposing, and opened his arms. The four of us huddled together for a group hug. Mom was shorter than me now. I’d outgrown her last year, and it still felt strange to be the tallest female in the embrace.
We said our goodnights, and then shuffled upstairs. I stood in my bedroom feeling a wave of nostalgia. This room held so many memories. Would I be back again to see the rows of trophies on the shelves? Everything from t-ball to All-State Soccer and this year’s Girls’ Varsity Soccer MVP. Two large corkboards were tacked full of pictures, ticket stubs for movies, school dances, and sporting events, even a few newspaper snippets about my teams.
I went to my walk-in closet and pulled out the familiar, large plastic storage bin. I placed the bin next to my luggage at the foot of my bed, then sat down cross-legged on the carpet and opened it.
Staring up at me was ten years worth of memorabilia collected to give McKale when it was time to meet.
The mysterious McKale. My “betrothed.” A fancy word for “engaged.”
McKale was from another family of ancient magic. Mom explained that his people had only been able to produce male children for many, many years now. I was told they needed a special, magical girl to bind herself with one of their special, magical boys to ensure the continuation of their family’s bloodline. It sounded extraordinary to me as a child—like I was a princess—special, chosen.
It took a few years to realize the purpose of the union was to have babies.
My friends at school would have been appalled. They all thought I was going off to college overseas. The term “prearranged marriage” was thought of as something from the old days, or something that other societies did. I should have been terrified or indignant, but the way Mom presented my future eleven years ago made me feel important and useful. Arranged relationships were common among Dightheach. Normal.
On the night I learned about McKale, Mom told me his clan valued gifts. At six years of age, I remember thinking it was weird that his family was called a “clan,” but cool that they liked presents.
I ran my finger over a paddle and ball set I’d gotten at a birthday party when I was seven. I could never get the stupid toy to work for me, but maybe McKale could. That had been the first gift. My favorite was the soccer ball. I smiled at its shiny black and white surface, remembering when Dad landed tickets to the World Cup.
A light knock came as I wrapped tape around the lid.
“Come in,” I called. My family knew about the gift bin, but it was still embarrassing, this imaginary relationship I had with a stranger. But he wouldn’t be a stranger for much longer, would he?
I shivered with anticipation.
Cassidy walked in and made herself comfortable on my bed while I moved my travel stuff next to the bedroom door and changed into my pajamas.
“How many hours of footage do you think you have?” From her laying position Cass inclined her head toward the video camera on the nightstand that I’d used to record messages for McKale over the past four years.
“I don’t know. A lot,” I said.
“Mm.” Cassidy chewed her lip. She was unusually quiet as she lay there. I sat down and stretched my legs out beside her.
“You okay?” I asked.
“I don’t want you to go.”
The invisible band around my chest yanked tighter. “You guys are coming, too. We’ll get to spend the whole summer together before you go back home.”
“Not really. I mean, I’ll be there, but you’re going to be busy getting to know him.” Her jealous tone surprised me. She’d always taken my engagement in stride. I began braiding the silky brown hair at her temple.
“I promise to make time for you, chickadee.” I wondered if she’d ever outgrow the childhood nickname. I hoped not.
“It’s gonna be strange next year at school without you.”
“I know.”
Cassidy would be a senior. It was a huge high school and we’d both been active in sports and clubs. Cass was even junior class president this past year. But I understood. No amount of friends or activities could replace what we shared. And neither could a man.
She turned her face away and whispered low, “Please don’t forget about me.”
“Hey.” I gasped and pulled her face back to me. It killed me when her eyes filled with tears. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cried.
“If you ever say something like that again, I’ll kick your butt,” I said. She sniffled and gave me a small smile. “I mean it, Cass. There is no man and no distance that could ever make me forget about you, or stop needing you. I’ll do whatever I have to to keep in touch. And don’t forget about begging Mom and Dad to study abroad next year.”
That idea always cheered us. There was still a shroud of mystery about McKale’s clan and what it’d be like there. Mom made it sound like there was no technology. I couldn’t even send him letters over the years because mail wasn’t delivered there. If Cass could study abroad in Ireland it would make any situation more livable for me.
“I wish he could come here instead,” she said.
“Yeah. Me too.”
Cassidy wiped her eyes. She nuzzled her head closer to my leg and I continued braiding her hair.
“If he’s not a good guy… If he doesn’t appreciate you—”
“Don’t think like that. Everything is going to be fine.”
I’d often been filled with gratitude that this was my fate and not hers. Cassidy was too free-spirited to handle something like this.
Her smooth hair slid through my fingers and she closed her eyes. The thought of my predicament dampening her spirit broke my heart.
“I wish I could stay here with you longer,” I said.
“No, you don’t,” Cass said without opening her eyes. Her voice was still soft. “You want to go be with him.”
Her words shook me. Partly because she was right—I was excited to go, to meet the magical boy I’d been chosen for. But that didn’t mean I wanted to leave my family.
“I do want to meet him,” I admitted. “But I’m not looking forward to being without you.” My insides shook just thinking about it. She seemed so young with her head in my lap. I had to remind myself this was an independent girl who always took what she wanted and had kissed way more boys than me. I bent down over her face and cupped her soft cheeks with my palms. She opened her eyes. “You know you’re my heart, Cass. Nobody could ever take your place.”
She sat up and turned, hugging me around the neck. I gulped back my emotions.
“Now get out of here,” I said. “Before you make me cry or something.”
“Pfft, yeah right.” She gave me a tired smile before slipping off the bed.
“Hey, what if McKale is cross-eyed?” Cass asked, walking backward to the door. Her mood seemed lighter now, but I couldn’t forget the jealousy she’d revealed.
“Don’t they have surgery to correct that?”
She shrugged, almost at the door. “What if he’s got some wicked crooked teeth?”
“Braces.”
“What if he refuses to get braces?”
I groaned and threw a small pillow at her. “Go finish packing, dork.”
She punched her chest and threw me a peace sign before leaving.
I flopped back on the blankets, feeling uneasy from all the emotion. This whole thing was going to be harder if Cassidy made a fuss. I’d be sure to give her plenty of attention in Ireland.
I switched off the light and set my alarm for the butt-crack of dawn. We’d only be getting a few hours of sleep, so I’d be running on pure adrenaline tomorrow. I climbed underneath the down comforter and snuggled in, doing what I’d done every night since I was six.
I imagined McKale. The guy whose life was tied to mine.
What would he see when he looked at me?
I’d resigned myself to a lot of bad “what ifs” over the years. Cassidy loved to throw those at me for fun. What if he has a big nose? What if he has halitosis? What if he’s got an ugly comb-over and he won’t shave it off?
But in all our imaginings there was one thing I never cared to envision. It was vain and stupid, considering I forced myself to imagine all sorts of horrid scenarios, and yet this was the thing that bothered me. Cassidy and I looked very much alike: athletic bodies, ample curves, medium-length brown hair, and round brown eyes. She, like our mom, was taller than average. And at five feet, eleven inches, I was over two inches taller than them.
Of all the truly frightening things worth worrying about, I held one selfish wish. Please… don’t let McKale be too much shorter than me.
CHAPTER TWO
BOARDING THE PLANE WAS SURREAL.
The four of us took our seats in the back row of first class. Thankfully it wasn’t a crowded flight. Three other passengers sat in the front, a good distance away. I nestled between my mom and sister with Mom by the window and Cass on the aisle. Dad sat in the aisle seat in the row beside us. I wondered if my father had somehow gotten them to fix the seating with no passengers around us so we could have privacy to talk.
My nerves flared when we pushed back from the gate and prepared for takeoff. I bit my lip to keep from screaming in anticipation. I was on my way to meet McKale! Crazy butterflies dive-bombed inside me. I’d been suppressing uncharacteristic psycho-girly giggles all morning, especially since my family seemed subdued.
I understood why. If I allowed myself to go down the path of how much I’d miss them when they returned home, leaving me in whatever situation I was in, my heart would break and my nerves would shred.
As soon as we were in the air Mom started acting strange, fidgeting, messing with her hair. I watched her stare distractedly out the window while Cassidy read a magazine on my other side. Mom’s hand drifted up to her throat and a look of nervousness crossed her face as she shifted her body toward me.
“There are a few things we need to discuss, Robyn. Let’s get our drinks and then I’ll glamour us so the flight attendants won’t pay us mind.”
Things to discuss? O-kay… What more could there possibly be to say?
When she leaned down to pick a piece of lint from the bottom of her brown trousers she shot a covert look toward my dad that screamed, Help! He raised an eyebrow of sympathy to her before shoving his face in a sports magazine.
Uneasiness invaded.
“Uh, Mom?” I said. She fiddled with her tennis bracelet and pushed her hair around some more. “Mom, what’s going on?”
She held a finger up at me and politely ordered a glass of red wine from the flight attendant. Cassidy ordered one as well, but Mom shook her head and Cass begrudgingly changed to ginger ale.
Mom guzzled the glass and ordered another. She sipped wine all the time at home, but I’d never seen her drink this fast. I eyeballed Cassidy who shrugged a shoulder. Once Mom had her second glass in front of her she whispered for us to pretend we were sleeping. The three of us slumped down into cozy positions with our eyes closed, and I felt the familiar static-tingle across my skin as Mom draped us with glamour. Now anyone who looked at us would see three people napping while we went about our business under the protective bubble of magic.
“Okay, Mom. You know how I feel about surprises. What’s going on?” My brain needed time to process things. She took another big gulp of wine.
“You know that McKale’s clan is of ancient roots.” She cleared her throat and proceeded to stutter and shift. “Far more ancient than ours. But there are a few things you’ve not yet learned about them.”
Oh no. Oh-freaking-no.
“What things?” My palms began to sweat as I watched her fiddling.
“Centuries ago, McKale’s people were specially chosen to receive magic because of their cobbling talents, er, shoemaking skills. You know Faeries love to dance, sometimes for weeks on end. So, naturally, they need new shoes often, and there are so many of them. Long ago, a country sprite brought this Irish clan of human cobblers to the attention of the Fae, who then offered to bless the clan with magic if they focused their trade solely on providing shoes for the Fair Folk.”
Cass leaned over. “McKale’s a shoemaker for the Fae?”
Mom nodded, but her eyes were too big.
Tidbits of folklore swirled through my mind, but a hard sense of denial set up camp inside me. It couldn’t be the same tale I was imagining.
“Who are they?” I asked.
“Hm?” Mom eyed her almost-empty glass. “Where is that stewardess?”
“Mom…” My heart pounded and I chose my words carefully. “What is McKale’s clan called?”
She wouldn’t look at me. The cabin space seemed to close in on me. It was forever before she answered in a cracking voice. “They’re the Leprechauns.”
“That’s not funny,” I said. Mom stared at her hands. She didn’t laugh or say, “Gotcha!”
I was going to suffocate. Cassidy gasped next to me and I flung off my seat belt, jumping up from my seat with my hands in my hair, breaking the magical bubble with a loud pop that only the four of us could hear. My father sat straight up, dropping the magazine and looking around with a hardcore expression of seriousness. My action had sent him into work-mode. When he was sure nobody had noticed he gave me a severe look that kind of scared me.
Mom grasped my arm and I shrunk down to the edge of my seat. I couldn’t look at her yet. My heart was banging and I could hardly breathe as I fought the wide expanse of emotion.
“Leprechauns?!” I demanded. The word tasted wrong in my mouth, like I was expecting a sip of water and drank lime juice instead.
Cass leaned over me. “As in, the Leprechauns?”
“Sh,” Mom said, looking around to make sure the people up front hadn’t heard. Then she chewed her lip as her eyes flitted to me, a horribly guilty expression on her face. I gaped at her.
I was not marrying a Leprechaun! Who thought that would be okay? A sense of betrayal overtook me, worse than any feeling I’d ever experienced.
“Hurry, pretend to sleep again,” Mom ordered. I placed my elbow on the armrest and leaned my head against my hand, closing my eyes. When I felt the shimmer of magic I couldn’t lift my heavy head. All my life I’d stayed positive no matter what, knowing if I allowed negativity to invade it would take over like a weed. All of my subdued fears and doubts surfaced like a blitz, ignited by my parents’ secrecy. I leaned my face into my palms and burst into tears.
Cassidy sucked in a breath, her voice warbling. “Oh, my gosh… Robyn? Mom, you made her cry!”
They both rubbed my back and smoothed my hair. Sobbing was demoralizing and humiliating. I wanted more than anything to stop, but my body wouldn’t cooperate.
“Shush, dear. Please don’t cry,” Mom crooned. “I hear he’s the tallest lad in the clan.”
Oh, no she didn’t.
I looked up through hazy, swollen eyes and choked out, “So he’s four feet tall instead of three?” Cassidy had the nerve to giggle.
“Maybe he’ll be the funniest and the sweetest wee man in the clan,” Cass said brightly. I shook my head in my hands and my chest heaved with another round of uncontrollable weeping.
“Don’t say wee man!” Mom hissed at Cassidy. To me she whispered, “There, there, love.”
“Flying shitballs,” Cassidy grumbled. “This is bad.”
“Watch your mouth,” Mom scolded. “You know I hate that word.”
“If there was ever a time that warranted the use of ‘shitballs,’ it’s now, Mom.”
“Och! For the love of all things holy, child. Attempt to filter what comes out of your mouth!”
Lost in my own anguish, I barely registered the bickering between them.
I’d always felt like an Amazon woman, standing as tall as the guys at school, and even taller than many of them. Next to McKale I was sure to be an absolute giant. How could my parents have agreed to this? I mean, I know it was important to keep the magical bloodlines alive so the Fae secrets could be kept in as few families as possible around the world, but still. There needed to be basic attraction between two people if they were going to bind their lives together and try to have children, right? Everything about this was wrong and unfair.
Impossible.
I took a deep, cleansing breath and sat up with a mild shudder. My practical nature raised its head, composed. Time to stop crying and get answers. I wiped my face and looked at Mom. My voice was thick.
“You should have told me sooner. I need more time than just a day to process something this huge.”
I wanted to keep going, to tell her off completely and make her feel the betrayal I was experiencing, but she looked miserable.
“Yeah,” Cassidy chimed in, rambling with indignation on my behalf. “Not cool. This is a major detail. I mean, how short are they anyway? Are we talking ‘sit on your lap’ short or ‘sit on your shoulder’ short? Because if he’s only a foot high I don’t know how anyone expects them to do it.”
Gah! Images of a Ken doll popped into my mind.
“No, no, it’s not like that.” Mom cradled her forehead in her hand like she did when a migraine was coming on. Something wasn’t adding up.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I yelled in frustration.
Dad cleared his throat and rustled the magazine, causing the three of us to turn to him.
“Or you, Daddy!” I wanted to cry all over again. How could they keep this from me? Why would they pair me with a freaking Leprechaun?!
He spoke without looking away from the pages, keeping his voice low so passengers a few rows ahead couldn’t hear him since he wasn’t in our magic bubble. “Don’t be so hard on your mother, girls. Perhaps we didn’t have much choice in the matter. The Fae can be quite… convincing.” He looked directly at Mom now. “You need to tell them, Cecelia.”
Cassidy and I turned to Mom, who nodded once before draining the rest of the wine. Her lips were stained light crimson. She pushed brown locks away from her face and I noticed a few strands of gray. Those were new.
“The Leprechaun clan is mostly made up of dwarfs, or little people—”
“Midgets?” Cassidy asked.
“Well, yes, but that word’s not politically correct and some consider it derogatory,” Mom stated. “Anyhow, in order to keep the bloodlines alive, the Fae gathered a sister clan of dwarf females in a nearby town and gifted them with magic in return for their agreement to pair up with the Chaun men. After all these years, for some reason the clans are not successfully reproducing anymore. There’ve been many miscarriages and stillbirths or babes who die young with internal defects. Some say the two clans have exhausted the variety in the bloodlines and there’s fear of accidental incest—”
“Ew!” Cassidy cut in. Mom ignored her and continued.
“They’ve kept thorough records of family lines, but it’s to the point where many of them are related as second cousins and such.”
“So, couldn’t the all-powerful Fae have found some other dwarf women in the world for them?” I asked. “Why did they choose a human?”
Mom sighed and looked at Dad who gave her an encouraging nod.
“Fifty years ago when McKale was born—”
Cassidy smacked the armrest. “McKale is fifty? Dude!”
“Cassidy Renee, if you interrupt me one more time you’ll be sitting with your father away from this conversation.” Cass grumbled but shut up. Mom looked back at me. “I’ve done a lot of digging for information over the years. Fifty is young by their standards. You know magic enables the Dightheach to live longer than usual. But the average lifespan of a Leprechaun is a thousand years because the magic is so engrained into their DNA.”
A thousand? Wow. My parents would be middle aged for a long, long time before they finally appeared “old.” They would probably live between three and four hundred years, which meant Cass and I would as well. Magical families had to periodically move and change identity to keep up the façade.
“When McKale came along there was a lot of talk among the magical people around the world. Supposedly he was the healthiest Chaun to be born in centuries. Some say he was gifted as a newborn by a Faerie of the night. Some say he was born without dwarfism, so the genetics that were hindering the other babies did not affect him.” A look of hope must have landed on my face because Mom shot me a cautious look. “It’s all hearsay, dearest. I wouldn’t get your hopes up.” She appeared regretful and my hopes sank again.
