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Description

Her eyes drew mine.

Peering in past glass-smooth water, seeking ducks I’d long since chased away. She had to be four, perhaps five seasons old. Irises like a summer forest’s floor, they evoked memories of a life I’d been exiled from centuries ago.

Mommy, where are the ducks?

Crumbs scattered from pudgy fists. A woman’s voice answered, muffled by the water over my head. I could never depart from the pond for long, being its guardian to keep nature’s balance, yet something about the child drew me.

No ducks here, sweet pea. Let’s try the other park.

For the first time in over a century, my feet pushed away from smooth stone. My gills would become lungs to draw the air I denied myself. I hovered, kicking, waiting.

She turned to go. Russet hair brushed the collar of a garishly pink coat. The mother called her name.

The child hesitated.

So did I.

I could feel her desire. A wish so simple, for the noisy, filthy, irritating creatures that stirred up my water and made a pig’s trough of my surroundings.

At the time, I thought it to be a simple whim.

I wove the spell to bring them back.

Duckies!

She was there shortly after first light the following day, corn in fist. I was wearied; my advanced age showed not on my skin or within my hair, but the charms I once found so easy daunted me.

Dry kernels plinked across the surface of my abode. More of the sullied beasts were coming.

I smiled.

When had she gotten taller? And so sullen?

Seasons passed in the blink of an eye. When she’d grown tired of feeding the ducks, I drew a ward to keep them away from the pond. Yet, she kept coming. Secluded as it was, she never brought a suitor. Her mother had stopped accompanying her some time ago.

Pink now adorned the edges of her hair. She sat at the edge of the bank to pick up leaves and twirl them between her fingers. I watched from the opposite side, unseen under my glamour. When had I grown so fascinated?

Ah. It had to have been the day I began to suspect her true nature.

I reached out. Her thoughts brushed me clear as daylight.

It’s not working. She’s going to get worse.

Sterile white walls, bright light. A figure laying under crisp sheets. An old woman with the same face as this girl.

I wove another spell, knowing full well what it would do to me.

“It was…you.”

Hearing her voice clear as clarion gave me a last push of strength. She’d known of me all along.

“Duckies.” I managed a smile.

“Why?” I caught sight of her thick boots. They didn’t suit such dainty feet.

“I grew tired. You were…a pleasant distraction.”

“You’re a fairy, aren’t you?”

Now I grinned. “What is it the humans say? ‘Guilty as charged’?”

“I used to draw pictures of you. Mom and the teachers thought I had an active imagination.”

“We’re alike, you and I. It’s not often that human bloodlines mingle with ours.”

“She’s better now.” Her voice grew softer. Warm fingers made contact with the flat plane of my chest. We both knew.

**

Algae upon my arms.

Water.

Mom had always tried to shield me from the truth. But she couldn’t save me.

Dying, he whispered that he’d done me a favor. Every favor is a debt.

Every debt must be paid.

Without payment, favors can be undone.

Water closes over my head.

In the dark, I sink and wait for children.

Description

Her eyes drew mine.

Peering in past glass-smooth water, seeking ducks I’d long since chased away. She had to be four, perhaps five seasons old. Irises like a summer forest’s floor, they evoked memories of a life I’d been exiled from centuries ago.

Mommy, where are the ducks?

Crumbs scattered from pudgy fists. A woman’s voice answered, muffled by the water over my head. I could never depart from the pond for long, being its guardian to keep nature’s balance, yet something about the child drew me.

No ducks here, sweet pea. Let’s try the other park.

For the first time in over a century, my feet pushed away from smooth stone. My gills would become lungs to draw the air I denied myself. I hovered, kicking, waiting.

She turned to go. Russet hair brushed the collar of a garishly pink coat. The mother called her name.

The child hesitated.

So did I.

I could feel her desire. A wish so simple, for the noisy, filthy, irritating creatures that stirred up my water and made a pig’s trough of my surroundings.

At the time, I thought it to be a simple whim.

I wove the spell to bring them back.

Duckies!

She was there shortly after first light the following day, corn in fist. I was wearied; my advanced age showed not on my skin or within my hair, but the charms I once found so easy daunted me.

Dry kernels plinked across the surface of my abode. More of the sullied beasts were coming.

I smiled.

When had she gotten taller? And so sullen?

Seasons passed in the blink of an eye. When she’d grown tired of feeding the ducks, I drew a ward to keep them away from the pond. Yet, she kept coming. Secluded as it was, she never brought a suitor. Her mother had stopped accompanying her some time ago.

Pink now adorned the edges of her hair. She sat at the edge of the bank to pick up leaves and twirl them between her fingers. I watched from the opposite side, unseen under my glamour. When had I grown so fascinated?

Ah. It had to have been the day I began to suspect her true nature.

I reached out. Her thoughts brushed me clear as daylight.

It’s not working. She’s going to get worse.

Sterile white walls, bright light. A figure laying under crisp sheets. An old woman with the same face as this girl.

I wove another spell, knowing full well what it would do to me.

“It was…you.”

Hearing her voice clear as clarion gave me a last push of strength. She’d known of me all along.

“Duckies.” I managed a smile.

“Why?” I caught sight of her thick boots. They didn’t suit such dainty feet.

“I grew tired. You were…a pleasant distraction.”

“You’re a fairy, aren’t you?”

Now I grinned. “What is it the humans say? ‘Guilty as charged’?”

“I used to draw pictures of you. Mom and the teachers thought I had an active imagination.”

“We’re alike, you and I. It’s not often that human bloodlines mingle with ours.”

“She’s better now.” Her voice grew softer. Warm fingers made contact with the flat plane of my chest. We both knew.

**

Algae upon my arms.

Water.

Mom had always tried to shield me from the truth. But she couldn’t save me.

Dying, he whispered that he’d done me a favor. Every favor is a debt.

Every debt must be paid.

Without payment, favors can be undone.

Water closes over my head.

In the dark, I sink and wait for children.