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The Boy and the Tatter

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    The Boy and The Fairy

    Preface

    This being an account but late attempted, by which I mean, some many years after the

    facts related in the account occurred, I have felt it necessary to include here a littleexplanation for such questions as will probably arise in the minds of the discerning reader

    upon review of the text. First, as to the timing of the events, which the reader will

    discover are presented as having consumed the space of one entire night, where thereader will argue that, erasing those florid descriptions of thought and motive which

    attach to every story, the events described could only have reasonably taken up the space

    of an hour or two, or three at most. I defend myself by reminding that reader that time is

    a fluid concept, and becomes more fluid when magicks are involved. Second, thequestion may arise as to whether, according to the age that I represent myself as being at

    the time of the story, I actually spoke and thought in the manner in which I have here

    described. As to that, I can say only this. I have had long years now to reflect upon the

    events herein related, and with those years comes long experience. I look back upon theevents now, and I see the matter, that is the facts, and I attach to them such thoughts as

    my long years suggest to me. I was a boy then. I thought less and felt more. My tonguewas quick and my mind less so. Now I am grown a man, and as a man, I include those

    thoughts and suggestions that occur to me now, looking back on my younger self, and I

    pray that you find them palatable. I do not counterfeit my soul, but only clothe it in a

    silken sheath that it may wear better in your eyes.Sir Thomas Flynn, Esq.

    CH. 1 In Which There is an Encounter and A Decision is Made

    To tell you, dear reader, of that boy, nave, who journeyed far into the night when

    all was won and lost again, is all my care. Many were the fairies whose home I saw,

    whose ways I knew, and one loss thereof, my breast feels keenly still. His Fortune I

    could not turn, much as I would. In his own brave fashion he perished, in battle with a

    grindylow. But still, it could not stay his triumphant return. It is his story and mine too,

    dear readers, I will tell you as I can, and heaven give you wh

    To begin, such trials as I was soon to take on began in the seventh year of my

    happy boyhood sometime in the late October. I remember it distinctly because I had been

    sent to bed with a too light supper and no dessert, on the account that I had pulled Miss

    Katherine Robbins hair, and told her I loved her, to which she had replied, rather

    inelegantly for a girl or so I thought, by kicking me in the shins. But then, who can

    fathom the mind of a woman? To return, it was a cold, dreary night for October, and I

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    remember my father saying, at the time, that it would be a hard frost because North Wind

    was blowing so fiercely and so early in the season and that we must tighten our belts to

    stand it, which was quite easy for me seeing as I had no dessert. That being the case and

    me being so light already, I took myself early up to my room and sat myself down on my

    bed thinking myself the most ill-used boy in the world, and wondering how I should ever

    get to sleep, so that when I awoke so abruptly a few hours later, in the jet of the night, I

    was much astonished and perhaps a little fearful.

    Now those who might be inclined to doubt the coming words may here be put at

    ease. It is a too simple matter for some, particularly the aged, by which I mean the

    adults,-- to dismiss what comes next as only a very vivid dream, and indeed it is easier

    for them to do so, for it is another well known fact that ones eyesight becomes gradually

    worse as one gets older (certainly my grandfather is nearly blind except when the meal

    bell rings at which time his sight and limbs recover with astonishing rapiditya neat

    trick that!), and that is why so many adults and all schoolmasters, require spectacles. But,

    as all my school chums near unanimously agreed, the incidents here related must have

    occurred at eventime, for we all knew that the fairies only come out at night being as they

    were wary of the sun as some boys (but only seldom myself) were wary of the dark.

    Now I knew this because my mother told me so and I assume the other boys mothers

    told them so and I can only assume that Charley Winkers mother (foolish woman!) must

    have fallen out of the cradle as a child and dealt herself a blow to tell him such a stupid

    thing as that fairies dont exist.

    So there I lay in my bedroom on my bed, having just awoken, as a result I think,

    of the fierce yowling of the wind outside. Being as I had not yet said my prayers, but

    also mindful of the grindylows who eat little children who get out of bed without their

    parents permission and cause a rumpus, I assumed my courage and my pillow, bravely

    saluted the tin soldier lying in my tangled bedsheets, and left the bed with a leap (leaping

    being a sure way to scatter any grindylows that have surrounded one). Having thoroughly

    rebuffed any offending grindylows, I was just about to get on my knees to pray when

    whom should I spy outside my window but a little person pressed sore to the glass pane,

    that same window being I should mention, like my room, on the second floor! Now I call

    him a person, but the fact is he wasnt really a person, like you and I are people, as I

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    presently came to discover. And I discovered the matter in the following manner.

    Being a polite boy, most of the time anyway, notwithstanding Miss Katie and her

    unfortunate pigtails and my more unfortunate shins, I couldnt very well just let a person

    float out in the cold and bluster all night (especially one in such obvious distress!) if I

    could help it, for my mother always raised me to be polite to those less fortunate than us,

    be they man or beast, and I suppose she meant fairies as well though she did not mention

    them especially. Thus, I opened my window and in tumbled the little creature as

    sprightly as could be (and I can tell you, it is a most difficult task indeed to be sprightly

    when one is hurtling through the air at the mercy of every passing gust but he seemed to

    manage it well enough).

    He was certainly a funny little thing if I were to judge and I was the only one

    there to do it, so I did. He was all of a light green, the very color of the moss on the north

    side of Callow Hill so that I thought at the time that he must be sick from being so cold.

    Looking back however, I suspect that it was his natural color. His hair was silver and so

    wispy and so fine, like the palest gossamer on my mothers favorite summer dress (on

    account of Fathers having bought it for her birthday), that I could not be sure that it

    might not blow away if I left the window open, so that I closed it again very quickly after

    he entered. His eyes were the most startling shade of blue I have ever seen and I dont

    suppose I shall ever again see the like, they were so blue as to be almost black!, and

    though the room was already dark what light there was seemed to gather in them so that

    around him was all a glow and where he went, it followed. As for his nose and his ears,

    they were sharp enough to cut butter with I am sure. He seemed particularly fond of the

    nose and would flare his nostrils impressively, or so he seemed to think, whenever he was

    pleased. His mouth was as small as his chin was keen with pale gold lips and flat white

    teeth. He was very thin in arms, legs, and body but this appeared all the more useful for

    him, for whenever he wanted to change direction, he had only to open his mouth wide,

    point it in the way opposite that in which he wanted to move and blow very hard, and he

    would go flitting every which way, careening off corners and upsetting everything in his

    path, emitting a high-pitched whistle all the while. He was in turn exceedingly small,

    only about the size of my hand, so that if I had wanted I might have fit him in my school

    satchel and brought him for show though Im sure I did not want any such thing.

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    Now you ask me, Thomas? Thomas, seeing as you never saw a fairy before how

    is it you know that this one was male? Well, now I come to what I suspect will be the

    most difficult to believe part of my story but nonetheless it is as true as Mr. Nelsons

    britches. For you see (or at least I did) the little fellow was completely naked, frontside

    and backside, except for a little bronze thimble tied round his head with a bit of string,

    and set rakishly off to one side, so that I could tell very distinctly even in that dark night

    that he was indeed a little fellow and I blushed and heated as much for his sake as for

    mine. Now, you may laugh at me and laugh at the little fellow in his nakedness but let

    me assure you, if he hadnt been naked and I had not been clothed (though in only my

    school boys uniform for I had fallen asleep without undressing) things might have turned

    out quite differently or not at all.

    So in popped the little naked fellow and I admit, I was a little rude because I

    looked and gaped at him a full minute before I could think to ask him his business.

    I, said the little green fellow in answer to my eventual query, am Hatt the Fairy

    Scout, Esquire.

    Oh, I said as politely as I could, for I wasnt sure at the time that it was right to

    ask what he was scouting for, seeing as I might be intruding. Anyway, I thought it better

    to hold my tongue.

    Well? he asked, continuing, impolitely I thought, to float in the air when he

    could see plain as me that there was perfectly natural ground to stand on.

    Well what? said I.

    He frowned and his whole mouth and body frowned with him, swooping down in

    slow circles.

    Your name sir. Your name. I gave you mine, now you must give yours. It is the

    polite response, sir. As this did indeed seem the polite thing to do, though it still

    bothered me that he stayed up while I was stuck down, and gave me a crick in my neck

    besides, I gave him my name.

    Its Tommy, sir. Tommy Flynn. How do?

    His frown, if it were in any way possible, which I guess it must have been for it

    did, got deeper and his body with it so that he sunk almost to the level of my eyes.

    How do what, sir? Do you mean how do I do, sir? Are you not perhaps aware,

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    sir, of that little trifle we call grammar? Now what would you think? Here I was kind

    enough to invite the little fellow in out of the cold and he is cross with me, and it was

    quite rude as I well know, for my mother told me plain it was not nice to be unkind to

    others especially when they are trying to be kind to you and I told the fellow so sharp-

    like, though it was against my better nature.

    And what do you suppose he did? Why he spun clear over backward and shot off

    towards the back wall, knocking over a stack of my school books on the way, and

    bouncing off them from my bed toward the ceiling and making such a ruckus with his

    squeaky whistle that I was afraid the grindylows would return or my father would come

    in to scold me and I was not sure which would be worse. Not waiting to find out, I made

    a grab for him as he rounded the bedstead and managed to catch hold of his hand enough

    to at least slow him so that in the next minute he was again floating rather comfortably in

    more or less the same spot just in front of my window.

    Im sure sorry, I said. I did not mean as to upset you only as it was you as

    upset me first, I couldnt help it. Here the little fellow shrunk even further which was

    quite a task for him as he was quite small as it was, and his deep blue eyes dimmed so

    that they were only a very pale blue, so that in a moment I was terrified that he might

    disappear altogether and I quickly assured him that as long as he was sorry too it was

    perfectly all right.

    I am sorry, he said very contritely. If there is one thing a Fairy, any Fairy,

    cannot stand it is rudeness and here I was being impertinent with you in your own home.

    I really am dreadfully sorry. I assured him it was fine and that we were friends again,

    and shook his hand quite pleasantly. Following this, he cheered up considerably so that

    his size got bigger along with his happiness, which was much the better because as I said

    he was such a small little fellow that if I had the chance now to take dessert, I would have

    given it to him instead to fatten him up.

    Having done my duty by him, as the host, I asked him again how do? Being sure

    to add the you do? at the end so that there would be no mistake.

    Quite well, he said in a piping trumpet voice. Thank you. I am here to inform

    you that beginning tomorrow night at sundown, we, that is, the Fairy Kingdom, must

    hereby declare war on you, the people of Shropshire. Yes, indeed. He paused here and

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    looked around my room. That is sir, if this is indeed Shropshire. Yes. I remember that

    when he gave his little speech, he reminded me of no one so much as Parson Barr during

    his Sunday sermons where he always looked at us boys and told us to repent of our

    wicked ways, which I guess meant stop fidgeting in the pews but as our Sunday garments

    were so hot we could not help it.

    Well, as you can probably suspect, I was near floored by the little mossy fellows

    declaration. But, and I must congratulate my younger self, who let us not forget, was

    seven and seven months of age, which is as near to being eight as one can be without

    being it, I was not above recognizing the absurdity of the statement.

    But, I said in a voice which I am sure even now did not know a timid moment,

    arent you a very titchy fellow to declare war? Well, for his reaction, you might have

    supposed that I had called his mother a bore. He opened his mouth very wide and he

    breathed in very deep so that his whole body filled with air and he was quite twice his

    regular size which was to say, still not very large, and he blew as if to blow the whole

    house down. And off he went, tearing and crashing and hullabalooing fit to bring down

    the walls and pierce my very ears with that screeching whistle he gave. I am sure to this

    day that if dessert that night had been anything other than my mothers sweet Yorkshire

    pudding, both my parents must have woken up and come rushing in which would change

    the story quite a bit and who knows what might have happened, but it was and they didnt

    and my story is what it is.

    Having expended all his breath and being I suppose very tired, for being such a

    little fellow, I am sure he could not have had that much breath to spare, he came at last to

    rest upon my head, so that I felt his weight there (though only barely) some moments

    after. He sat there, exhausted from what I could surmise, and after having sufficiently

    recovered his breath to speak, he did just that.

    You see, he said, panting the while but proud for all that, We are no Goliaths,

    but then, neither was David, and he was a king. He paused again to catch his breath.

    Sir.

    I reckoned that he was quite correct in this case, and, seeing the shambles in

    which he had left my room, I began to form a healthy respect for the little terror. Why, if

    there were only ten more just like him, all bouncing and jouncing at the same time, it

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    would be enough to reduce my lovely home to rubble, and the neighbors besides, and I

    certainly did not want that. Also, his tiny feet were very rough and sharp so that it was

    really most uncomfortable having him alight upon my head and it was distressing to think

    that if the Fairy Army invaded we should all be forced to wear hats upon our heads

    forever. Certainly, the girls wouldnt mind, but as a boy who enjoyed a healthy coating

    of dirt, I was of a much different opinion. Besides, I was still unsure as to why he had

    chosen to make this declaration to me, and not to someone more important, the queen for

    instance, or at least Parson Barr. And why, in the first place should there be a war at all?

    And so, naturally, I asked him.

    Well as to that, young sir, it wasnt exactly my fault, sir, he replied. It was

    North Wind, you see, sir. She blew me here, sir, all against my will and me being what I

    am, I was powerless, sir. And here he grew so upset (or should I say he shrank for it

    was certain that I could feel him becoming less solid on top of my head) that he broke

    into tears and began to use my hair to wipe his considerably pointy nose and eyes so that

    my head felt thoroughly itchy and moist by the time he had stopped hiccupping enough to

    be understood again. This was rather an unpleasant experience, and only made more so

    by the fact that every time he hiccupped, he shot up with such a jump, and came down

    like such a lump for such a little fellow that by the time he had sufficiently recovered

    himself to control his orbit, I was sure I must have a dozen new bumps on my poor head.

    Now being seven and seven months of age at the time, which is as near as one can

    be to being eight without being it, and so being in the lower form at the school, I was

    quite used to young boys around me suffering similar fits of juvenile hysteria and I knew

    just what to do. I squared my shoulders back, straightened my back, and put such an

    earnest scowl on my face as to frighten even the grindylows (though he certainly couldnt

    see it sitting as he was on top of my head) and I said to him very firmly, Now see here,

    Mr. Fairy.

    Hatt, sir, if youll pardon my saying, sir. Mr. Fairy is my father. Or he would be

    sir, if I had a father. But sadly, sir, I am without at the present moment. Following this

    statement, he gave a very loud sniff and wiped himself, as before, on me.

    Now see here, Hatt, I continued more firmly than before, and in a bit more

    hurried a manner, lest he should make use of any small opportunity to interrupt and upset

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    himself again, Now it is all well and good to speak of going to war, but as my father

    tells me, wars make one late for dinner, and if only everyone were to remember that we

    would only play at war, and no one would ever go. So I think you had better think of

    your dinner, old boy, before you speak of going to war. Finished with this dazzling

    display of logic, I stood there like a little peacock preening myself in my rumpled school

    uniform.

    But sir, he said, and with this he gave a little dive off my head so that he hung

    suspended in the air in front of me with his head where his feet should be and vice-versa

    and I am sure that if I were ever to hang like that I should be quite dizzy, but he must

    have been used to it for he floated there quite comfortably. Sir, surely you must realize

    this is the first thing we considered. The grand council and the king considered for weeks

    the question of dinner, and it was determined that any Fairy who had a missus must have

    her prepare him a dinner beforehand and a large one at that and any Fairy without must

    get his mother to do the same. And I dont mind telling you sir, now, its all over, sir,

    that we very nearly had a rebellion when all the Fairy women heard the news, sir. Its not

    as though they mind cooking sir, but they do like to be asked first. Theyre very peculiar

    that way. And furthermore sir, it is a question of clothes, sir, and there can be no greater

    reason, sir, for going to war.

    By this time I was thoroughly baffled. First because he had so easily dismissed

    my brilliant argument, which had seemed such a stalwart one when I declaimed it, and

    second, because I really could not see what clothes had to do with war.

    Now Hatt, I said, I must be dense for I cannot see why we must go to war

    about clothes, especially as you are not wearing any.

    You cannot see sir! and I could tell when he said this that he could not believe

    his ears for he opened his mouth very wide as he spoke as in preparation for another jaunt

    around what little furniture was still undisturbed in my room which was not much, only a

    little writing table which had somehow survived his previous onslaughts. Being

    somewhat used to him by now though, I was prepared for just such an act, and very

    quickly grabbed him so that my whole fist surrounded him with only his little head

    sticking out, leaving him quite unable to inhale except to breathe.

    Thats quite enough of that, I scolded. Youve made a right mess of my room

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    already, and I shall have to answer for it to Father and Mother, Im sure, but you wont

    do it again, will you? I suppose I was a bit vexed with Hatt by this time for my grip was

    rather firm as I spoke and punctuated at the end with a very little squeeze which earned a

    surprised squeak from the squirming creature in my hand.

    I am going to let you go, I said, and you are going to behave because it is the

    polite thing to do as a guest in my home, now isnt it? And you are a guest, because I

    invited you in when I opened the window and you came in and introduced yourself and

    the war is not till tomorrow evening, if there is one. I looked him in the eye as I spoke

    and he looked me in mine and gave a tiny nod, which I took to be assent and so I released

    him. But he must have been upset with me still, for I noticed that as soon as he was free,

    he rose again to just above the level of my eyes so that I had to crick my neck to look him

    face to face.

    Please Hatt, I inquired as sweetly as I could manage from that uncomfortable

    position, if you would explain why you and your Fairy brothers must war over clothes

    with us, I would be very grateful. He nodded vigorously, so much so that he tipped

    himself forward and spent the next few seconds foundering in the air and waving his tiny

    arms in circles, trying to right himself, which he did by emitting a very low, slow whistle

    until he was right side up again. After this, being exceedingly pleased with himself, he

    fell to flaring his nostrils in a self-satisfied fashion, and being in his comfort then, he put

    his hands on his stomach and proceeded to speak to me about clothes.

    You see sir, it is a fact that Fairies are the most social creatures in the world, sir,

    with the exception of the birds who insist on telling everyone absolutely everything about

    their lives sir even to those who would rather not listen and doing it very loudly in my

    opinion. But I digress sir. The fact is however that we Fairies, and youll forgive me for

    saying so sir but it is true sir and as a Fairy myself I know it is true, we love to talk sir,

    almost to the point of excess sir. The fact is though sir that we mainly only associate

    with other Fairies because there is only one subject which is dear to the heart of all

    Fairies and that, sir, is clothes.

    Clothes? I exclaimed. But what on earth could be so fascinating about

    clothes? If I thought he had ever been upset before, I should have considered it positive

    calm in comparison to the tirade that followed this remark. I am sure he would have

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    destroyed the whole house if he could have managed to draw in any breath, only he was

    so angry he could not even do that and instead had to content himself with flouncing

    about in such a thrashing manner near my head that I was afraid he should knock me a

    blow or shake himself to pieces. Presently however, he remembered himself and

    grabbing his long nose with his two forefingers, he pinched his nostrils together very hard

    and this seemed to have a calming effect on him. He came to rest again before my head,

    though not before shooting me such a look of cool disdain as should have frozen my

    blood if I were not so excited by the whole conversation.

    It is all very well for you to say that sir, he continued icily, you and yours who

    have so many and we so few, only your discarded rags, and must go out a-night when it is

    so cold and blustery (for we have very sensitive eyes sir, as Im sure you can tell, sir, and

    the sun is very much an affront to them) and weather what weather bears weathering, sir,

    without any clothes. We may be of a puckish nature sir, but we are decent too, and Im

    sure I am not lying that any little wrong we do you, sir, is done with your teaching and

    betterment in mind.

    Now I felt very sorry indeed for the poor little fellow and selfish besides.

    Naturally, I knew what it was to be cold (what Shropshire lad did not?) and what a

    comfort it was to put on a warm overcoat or a pair of cozy socks before trekking through

    the snow.

    My Dear Hatt, I cried. I never knew. But please Hatt I still dont understand.

    Why must you take our clothes when you could surely make your own?

    Oh, sir! he started. Do you still mock us? Can you be so cruel, even after

    hearing our plight? Cruel boy, to pose so venomous question when you know and I know

    that one cannot make clothes without a pattern to make them from and we, having no

    clothes of our own, can have no pattern! With this, he began to sob and hiccup again so

    that if I had not caught him by the foot with all due diligence, he would have hiccupped

    his way up to the ceiling and dashed his head in and there would be a short end to the tale

    of Hatt the Fairy Scout, Esquire.

    Now Hatt, I said, for I had come to a very quick decision. Hatt, do please

    calm down. I would be more than happy to lend you my night gown and such attire as I

    have for you to make a pattern from, if you would only promise to return them to me as

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    soon as it was convenient, for I am quite sure Mother would be displeased if she knew I

    gave all my clothes up, even if it was for charity.

    I have never since beheld so stunned and happy a gleam as that which appeared

    on that little Fairys face when I gave him this news. I believe that it had never occurred

    to him, or any of his race, to whom clothes were so dear, that there should be any human

    willing to give up his clothes, even temporarily. His eyes grew large as saucers and

    stared at me adoringly which might have made me a touch proud if I had been any other

    than who I was, and his body fair trembled with joy in the same manner that a baby

    trembles at its mothers touch. And again, he opened wide his mouth so that I thought he

    was going to run rampant through my room again, but he only blew very gently in

    crossing figures over top my head and instead of a whistle, I heard a faint chime as of the

    church bells ringing from the chorister on St. Nicholas Day.

    The moment might have lasted forever (if only it had!) but for what happened

    next. As I gazed rapturously at the grateful figure of Hatt, I felt suddenly a sharp

    stabbing pain on the ankle of my right leg, and I fell with a gasp. In shock, I turned to see

    what had possessed me and was terrified to find myself confronting a grindylow!

    A grindylow is a nasty mean creature all flashing teeth and claws and writhing

    tentacles, and a little gristle besides. Its most disgusting habit is also its principal means

    of sustenance; it latches on to a victim and flays the skin to get at the blood underneath

    which it needs to maintain a solid presence for otherwise it is only so much dust and

    noise and terribly slow besides. If I had noticed it sooner, I might easily have frightened

    it out of existence by bounding on its head (which is notoriously soft), but young as I

    was, I could only occupy myself with one thought at a time, and that thought was all for

    the Fairy.

    Stunned as I was by the monster clutching my leg, I was too faint to muster up

    even the feeblest of resistances and I am sure I might have fainted had it not been for Hatt

    (dear, good valiant Hatt!).

    Seeing me in dire straits, he immediately blew himself up as big as he could and

    launched himself at the grindylow to no avail. Light and small as he was, he could not

    speed past the monsters lashing tentacles. He rushed in, his thimble leading the way, and

    was just as soon repulsed. Thrice I saw him essay the beast, flinging himself straight

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    toward the outstretched tentacles, his own arms flung forward as if to embrace a lover;

    thrice the phantom beast spurned the hands that caught at it in vain, elusive as the wind

    and as biting. On the third time, I see again in my memory his poor, innocent neck bend,

    like a flower stripped of its petals by the storm, and the body fall and move no more.

    I cannot adequately describe the rage that overtook me then and I shall not

    attempt it. I shall say only that it was such that Heracles himself might have quailed in

    fear should he have had to face me in that moment. With a roar as much of anguish as of

    anger, I thrust my arms towards what was the center of the grindylow and I squeezed

    with all my child might. I think I remember that there was pain then, of the physical sort,

    but it is distant to me, now as then. If it was there, it was not enough to blunt out the

    sorrow of the loss and that was the pain that scorched me.

    The grindylow squealed then, the pig squeal of the sow as its throat is cut, and for

    a moment it resisted, but my fury was such that the wriggling mass could not stand

    against me for long, and with a great wumph as of the rushing of air to fill a vacuum, the

    grindylow collapsed in on itself and disappeared. I might have lay there for some time,

    my ankle twisted and torn, my hands and forearms bleeding from a thousand little cuts

    but for the fact that my poor Hatt was all alone and I could not bear that he should be left

    so.

    I turned then, and using my elbows, crawled over to the body of the broken sprite

    by the bed. He lay as he had fallen, on his back, his neck at an odd angle and his thimble

    hat beside him. His little body was a sickly gray and shredded and torn so badly that I

    felt I must tear away my face or be torn apart myself for grief, but I would not. His blood

    (it must have been that though it was the color of jade, bluish-green, rather than red like

    mine) was oozing from all his body and as I picked him up to cradle him in my hands, I

    found that it burnt me where it touched my own scissored flesh, but still I determined to

    hold him, and so I pulled myself up till I was sitting with my back to my bed and I did

    just that.

    I began to weep and sob like a little child, for I was only a little child, just seven

    and seven months of age which is not as near to being eight as one can be without being

    it, it is still only seven, in the end. I sat and wept and as I did I heard the sound of chimes

    as of the church bells ringing from the chorister on St. Nicholas day.

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    Was it possible? Surely if there was justice in the world it must be so! And as I

    waited attentive to any sign of movement in the body of my poor dear, friend Hatt, I

    beheld a fluttering, so quick as to be perhaps, only a figment of my imagination, but no!

    there it was again he was opening his eyes and if they could but stay open there must

    surely be a chance at life, nay it was a certainty, but open your eyes dear Hatt and you

    must live!

    He opened his eyes then and I felt a shudder of fear for myself and for my friend

    for as I stared into those eyes, those deep blue eyes that I had known for so short a time,

    but loved so well regardless (is that not the case in the love of all children? We give our

    love quick and deep always though we choose poorly too often), those eyes so blue that

    when I first saw them I might swear they were almost black! here they were before me so

    pale blue that but for the bias of hope in my little boy breast, I might say they were all

    white and that there was no blue left in them.

    He gazed at me and I knew that he was happy for his nostrils flared briefly as if to

    say hello old friend, it has been a long time, but I am back from my travels, and I am

    yours if you will have me.

    Hullo, Sir Tommy, whispered Hatt, for a whisper was all he could manage in

    his piping baby voice. It is very good to see you sir, if I do say so myself sir, and I do,

    sir.

    Hullo, old Hatt, I replied, and now finally my voice quavered and I could not

    help but it should be so, I am very, very glad to see you awake Hatt for I was afraid that

    you might fall asleep in my hands, and I think it would be very rude of you to do so, and I

    know that you cannot abide rudeness.

    Is it, sir? answered the Fairy, I am very sorry, sir, that is should be so sir, but I

    think I must fall asleep again very soon because my eyes, sir, they feel so heavy.

    No Hatt, no! I told him. Wait but a moment and I shall bring you to my

    mother. She is a very angel for fixing bruises, Hatt, especially on children, and I am sure

    on Fairys as well, and if youll but stay with me a moment, I shall bring you to her

    presently and you and I may get on together as the best of friends.

    He coughed then and it sent a rack through his body that was so very painful to

    watch and afterward he curled up, as I have been told a baby curls up its mothers womb,

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    and was silent for some time, so that I was afraid that the worst had occurred and he had

    left me. But as my tears were about to burst anew, he stretched himself and gazed at me

    worshipfully and spoke again.

    Are we friends, sir Tommy? he asked. Really and truly?

    Why Hatt, I laughed, but it was a very weird laugh, more a hiccup and a squeak

    all in one, and it sounded as weird as it felt coming up, how can you be so dense? Dont

    you know me? Why we are the very best of friends already and presently we shall play

    together just as soon as you are all fixed.

    I am very glad of that, sir, he whispered and his voice was even more faint than

    before so that I had to bend my head and hold my ear very close to his mouth to hear his

    speech. I have never had a friend before, sir, nor any family to speak. I am an orphan

    sir, and have always been so, from the time I was a babe, and I have no missus sir, to

    make me any dinner, large or small, nor with strawberries of which I am very fond, and

    that is why I was sent on as a scout. Because if I should fail, sir, well, no one would be

    very sorry to see me go, sir.

    I wept again, though how I could have any tears left to cry, I do not know, but I

    stifled my sobs, so that although the tears streamed steadily, my noises should not

    discomfit the little fellow in any way. A few tears landed close to the body of the little

    sprite, and I saw him lift a hand up (oh! it was such a terrible effort to move even that),

    and reach down to touch the little puddle, and bring his hand back in front of his eyes to

    gaze at it, as if the tears I shed on his behalf were the most precious jewels from the

    Orient.

    Sir Tommy, sir piped the little fellow. If it might not be too much to ask, sir,

    might I beg a favor of you, sir? As a friend, sir?

    Why, of course Hatt, I exclaimed. Anything it is in my power to give is yours,

    and if I have it not to give, why then I shall strive to my utmost to obtain it.

    It is not for you to give me, sir, but for me to give you, he said. You see my

    hat sir, and here with a motion of his eyes he indicated the battered and scratched

    thimble which had fallen at the side of his head, It is the only piece of clothing I have

    ever had, sir, the only thing that ever was mine and only mine besides my name, and my

    name and my hat are all one to me sir. If you would keep it sir, in remembrance of me,

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    so that I might not be forgotten. I have a terrible fear sir, that I shall have lived my life

    and no one will remember me and I do not think I could bear it.

    It shall never be so, Hatt, I decried. As long as I live, your tale shall be told,

    and if ever I have children of my own, I shall tell it to them, so that they might tell it to

    their own children, and you will live forever by me, Hatt. And so long as I live, I shall

    keep your thimble and your hat always by me and you will live there too. And so

    saying, I picked up the treasure, and very solemnly placed it in my pocket breast such that

    it should remain close to my heart ever after as the memento mori of its owner.

    He smiled faintly at me as I said this, and his eyes flickered faintly as I patted his

    thimble to my breast. Once more, he flared his nostrils slowly, slowly, all the while

    looking at me as the last lights faded from his eyes and grew dim.

    I cannot say when precisely he died. I know only that one second I was holding

    him and he was alive in my hands, though only barely, and in the next, there was only the

    husk of him and that was not my Hatt, only a precious remembrance thereof.

    I believe I must have huddled there for some long minutes, before it occurred to

    me that my parents should by this time have come a-knocking. Surely they must have

    heard me by now. How is it that they could so easily remain abed when such goings-on

    were going on just two doors down from where they slept so absurdly deep? Whatever

    the reason or the cost to myself, I knew now I must call them and bring them to me.

    Without the resolution to remain steadfast to show my once dying, now dead friend how

    much I cared for him and held on to his life for his sake and mine, I was now in a position

    to feel acutely the pain racking my body.

    My back was stiff from trying to sit straight for so long. My leg was torn and,

    was it my imagination? I might swear there was a little of the white of my bone showing

    through, though thankfully the bleeding seemed ad slowed so that it was just flowing

    forth like a little syrup river. My stomach was in such upheaval and I was so nauseous

    that I was sure I must soon see my dinner in reverse, and my head, oh my head!, why it

    felt as if there were a whole horde of Fairys bumping around inside it determined to do as

    much damage as possible or die trying, sir.

    To add to the troubles, my father had been most right in his surmise regarding the

    wind. What before had been only an occasional yowling, had become, in the midst of my

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    on the eyes was twice as marvelous as any effect that Hatt produced. Where Hatt had

    been a somewhat mottled green, this girl was so white and so pale, that I had to shade my

    eyes to look at her, for in her whiteness, she glittered to burn like the midwinter snow on

    the heath. That was by no means the least of it, for it seemed that while she was always

    there, not all of her was there with all the same strength at once; I mean, if her upper arm

    was solid and tangible in the one moment, in that same moment, her hand might seem

    only a fierce white haze, such that if I tried to grasp it, it should pass right through mine

    own and continue on still perfectly formed for its transitory quality. This incongruity

    seemed to continue throughout her whole form. To say that her effect was profoundly

    disconcerting would be to say that water is profoundly wet; it is so much a part of its

    description that it seems almost ridiculous to mention it, except that it is essential to that

    same description. Like Hatt, she wore no clothes as we might think of clothes, but she

    was not naked, for where Hatt had gone without for lack, she wore herself as a cover and

    that self was her brilliant silver hair. Her hair. Can I do it justice? I can only try. Her

    hair was in some spots smooth and calm, in others rapid turbulence, for it was not

    stationary on her head, as ours most usually is, but was itself a river of liquid quicksilver,

    so that it flowed over her and around her to cover her as needed and might have been

    independent of her altogether except that where she went it went. It was long enough so

    that it covered her completely down to her small, uncovered feet and her thin pale arms,

    though it did not always choose to do either. Like a river, it was constant in substance,

    but inconstant in shape, for it was sometimes a gown on her and sometimes only a thin

    veil, but always playful in that it suggested all but revealed nothing and if I had not lost

    as much blood as I did and I was not exhausted as I was Im sure that as her effect on the

    senses was twice that of Hatt and then some, my blush would have been likewise.

    Her face like her figure was a child face, and it had a childs insensitive cruelty

    too, I am ashamed to admit. The small puckered lips were red as blood, she had a tiny

    button nose, and her eyes shone golden like the eyes of some great owl and as they

    examined me I felt that they had that same cruelty in them of the hunter in regards to his

    prey; I shall eat you sir, those eyes spoke, but only because you are the mouse and I the

    hawk and it is the nature of our relationship that it should be so.

    As I watched, she came towards me and I, in my lamentable state, could do

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    nothing. She glided a step forward and I sat. Forward again, her child hips undulating,

    and I sat. I could do nothing else. Finally, she stood right in front of me while I sat by

    the foot of my bed and I trembled and shook as much for cold and sickness as for fear of

    her.

    Mm ah -- Allo, man thing, she spoke. Why is it you de not kneel? Am I

    not perdy? The most perdy crai-ture you ever see, non? If I had been in a state to feel

    anything but exhaustion at that time, I am quite positive I would have felt surprise here,

    for although the body was most certainly that of a girl child not quite in the bloom of her

    womanhood, the throaty rasp that was her voice bespoke a woman in the full possession

    of her form and a willingness to play that coin.

    Lady, I tried to reply, but all that came out was a dry croak. She stepped back

    in obvious distaste.

    But zis is insufferable, ah? Non, it is no good, mm? You are ugly, man thing,

    and broken, and I will not see you. I am a queen, mm? And queens must ahsee only

    perdy things. I might have attempted a retort then, but that my body gave out before I

    could summon one. All was blackness then, and for a time, I knew no more.

    Ch.2 In Which There is a Queen And I Am Faced With a Choice

    I awoke for the second time that night, as with the first time, because of the wind.

    I opened my eyes and I saw the girl childs face in front of me, but a centimeter or two in

    front of my own and her hair extending several silver tendrils toward me, twisting and

    turning in a manner that reminded me most uncannily of my too recent encounter with

    the grindylow. Surprised, I let out a whoop and jumped to my feet, still holding the

    battered form of my Fairy friend, and trying to shield him with my body (to what end I do

    not know). The girl child merely withdrew her hair back to herself and stared at me, as I

    think, impatiently.

    Ah well? It is better, man thing, non? she rasped. And her lips closed and the

    corners just lifted into the barest hint of a smirk. I gaped.

    Better? I queried. Wha I realized then to what she was referring. I was

    standing. I had jumped up. I looked down at myself. My clothes were still torn and

    dirtied, but as for my body, I had not a scratch, not a bruise, not the slightest blemish that

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    might suggest that my night had been in any way eventful. Even my room was restored

    to its former state, and a dashing good job she had done of it too. My broken wardrobe

    had the shine as of being newly varnished, any my bed was quite well made, all corners

    tucked in such that if my father had been in the room, he might have given me a polite

    nod of pride and my mother a discreet kiss. I lifted my hand to the hair of my head. No

    bruises or scratches or wetness from where the little Fairy had excused himself on me. I

    was perfectly fine. I was more than fine. I felt refreshed. Vigorously so. Why, I might

    have been almost happy, and for a moment, I forgot myself and was happy, but as I

    brought my hand down to look to see if I had any scars, I felt again and saw in my other

    palm, cradled close still to my chest, the cost of that night, and I knew myself again.

    How? I asked. How did I could not finish the question being still so

    amazed by the wondrousness of my speedy recovery and that of my humble abode.

    Goose! she called me. Why you ask what mm ahh -- you do not need to

    know? I deed it and I choose to do it. So. It is enough, oui? Ah -- time, it chases us.

    Allons-y. We go. She turned and glided (I say she glided for although she had feet of a

    kind, she did not seem to find them worth the trouble of using them to walk) towards

    what had once been my window but was now merely a hole in my wall.

    Wait, miss! I cried! I dont understand! Who are you and where are we

    going? The words stuck in my throat as I spoke them so that I quite nearly failed to get

    them out at all. First, because I was still a bit inebriated in the newfound feeling of vigor

    running through my healed boy-body. Second, because as my question made clear, I was

    not quite sure the proper address with which to conduct myself in the presence of this

    self-proclaimed queen. Certainly, she might well have been a queen, but lacking as she

    was in a crown, one could never be sure. Besides, grateful as I was, I was not of a mind

    to throw my allegiance behind a decidedly non-English woman, even a queen, on the first

    meeting.

    It is an unfortunate quality in me, if my schoolmaster is to be believed, that I am

    cursed with an abominably thick head, but I can assure you that, even now, I thought my

    little outburst was rather justified, and decidedly decent in intent besides, such that I do

    not feel it merited the response which thereafter followed. The girl creature however,

    must have been of the same opinion of me as my schoolmaster and her response was

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    rather a neat mirror to his own when dealing with the wickedness that was a seven and

    seven months of age me. She whirled around, and now she was swelling up to fill the

    room so that the roof must crack under the strain of this engorged body, her mouth now a

    gaping maw with rows of shining sharp teeth. A great howling issued forth from her and

    through her so that I heard it and felt it from every direction, deafening and stunning me

    so as to render me senseless. Her golden eyes flashed and her silver hair became all at

    once a nest of hissing vipers, all snapping, crunching maws, and coiling and then lashing

    bodies, and where once was whiteness, now a roiling sulfurous cloud was descending

    upon me, and I cried out, I shut my eyes fast, and I raised one arm in front of me, Hatts

    form being still guarded by me in the crook of the other, to shield myself from what was

    now a certain death to be met with nothing.

    My eyes peeked out to discover my would-be devourer sitting quite comfortably

    on a tall throne of her own silver hair, her legs dangling and kicking in much the way my

    own did when I was bored at lessons, and with a decidedly down-turned frown on her

    rosy puckered lips. I looked at her and she looked at me and she gave a very audible and

    pointed sniff in my direction.

    I am mm no little miss, ah, she spoke down to me, her owl eyes unblinking

    as she simultaneously dismissed and held me with that same gaze. Myself, I am mm,

    ah a queen, oui, and you will address me as a queen, or ah it will be unpleasant

    between us, non? Entiendez vous, man-thing? There again the palpable sniff, and the

    flashing of the golden eyes, and the lowering of the ruby lips.

    But an hour earlier, that long age when I was only a boy just seven and seven

    months of age, such a display might well have cowed me. But I felt perhaps a little

    braver being now invigorated and having been through two quite recent encounters with

    fantastic creatures not totally dissimilar from herself, and again, I was quite in my rights

    to demand, in my own room no less, the identity of this strange personage in front of me

    before I went off willy-nilly and on such a night as this one. So long as that demand was

    framed politely of course, considering her considerable temper. A request perhaps, rather

    than a demand. Yes, most decidedly a request.

    I apologize, Mad those lightning eyes once more and that slight tension and

    upward movement that suggested nothing less than a lion about to pounce and I smartly

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    amended my course midstream, Majesty, if I was rude. It is only that I do not know

    you, Majesty, and I am not sure that I am in a right state to go anywhere at the moment.

    You see yourself that my clothes are all torn and tattered, hardly fitting to be worn in the

    presence of a queen, and Im sure youll forgive me that you being so I paused a

    moment in an effort to find a diplomatic way to describe her otherworldliness and settled

    the next moment for appealing to her obvious vanity, so beautiful that I quite forgot

    myself, and if you please Majesty, my name is Tommy, Majesty, Tommy Flynn, but only

    if you please Im sure, and if you could tell me what exactly youre the queen of, your

    Majesty, because if you really are a queen, and Im sure you are, Im sure, then you must

    be the queen of something surely as most queens are I think I was quite rambling at

    this point, as was most evident both to me and to her but I felt quite unable to stop myself

    and so I bullied through and if she understood me, well, it spoke more of her acuity than

    my own diction. And if you might look, Majesty and here I lifted my hands and I

    showed to her the body of the poor Fairy whom I had known but too briefly, I cant go

    until I have done something for my friend. Hes dear to me, Lady, and I dont know what

    I can do, but I think that I must do something only I dont know quite what. I paused

    again lamely, unsure how to continue. Your Majesty, I finished and then I gave her a

    little bow to punctuate my speech and I hoped that it was quite deep enough for I nearly

    toppled over in the giving of it.

    She closed her eyes and sat silently for a time and I stood there and I too was

    quiet, wondering at my own audacity and also at her seeming non-reaction. Presently,

    she opened her golden eyes again and spoke.

    You are mm troubling, Tommy-thing, she pronounced in what she

    obviously meant to be a judicious tone but which came across to me as being rather an

    arrogant one. But you are not wrong. I will mm, ah explain, oui? And you, you

    will listen and then we go. The night, it is fast leaving and there is mm much yet to do.

    So. I am, as I tell you before but you do not listen so good Tommy-thing, a

    queen, and I am no mean little queen like your little English one, bound to this small isle

    but a great queen. I am North Wind, ah, the greatest of queens, for I have no land, but all

    lands are mine. I dance through them at my whim and all things bow to me or are broken

    before me. She gave then a girlish giggle and her hair began to dance a merry jig

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    around her, winding and unwinding in fantastical knots and otherwise forming assorted

    shapes about her, but as to the rest of her I could not tell, for once again her brilliance

    shone forth so strongly that it became rather impossible to look at her, except from the

    corners of my eyes. She must have then decided that such behavior was unseemly in a

    person of her breeding, for after a brief spell, the glimmer lessened somewhat, so that I

    could at least glance at her if I squinted my eyes a bit.

    North Wind is who I am, and there is no other before me, eh, Tommy-thing?

    But I am too beautiful, non? You may tell me so if you like. She gazed at me and

    fluttered her eyelids at me most coyly, but I admit, I found the whole drama rather a

    terrifying ordeal, so I only nodded very vigorously and kept my mouth quite clamped

    shut. Apparently, she did not find this quite satisfactory for I noticed a rapid tightening

    of her lips, but whatever annoyance she might have felt towards me on this occasion, it

    was apparently not worth the trouble of further berating me. After all, what else could

    one expect from a man-thing so much lower than her supreme self, or so I imagine her

    thinking must have been. As I pondered these thoughts and kept them in my mind, I still

    managed to listen abstractedly as she continued.

    As to your friend, he is mm beyond my ah considerable power. He is

    dead, non? Who can heal the dead? It is regrettable, eh? Regrettable. She nodded her

    head once and heaved a small sigh and her restless legs became still for the barest of

    instants, but if her words proclaimed regret, her tone did not suggest it nor did her

    manner, for immediately afterwards she perked up and sang in a clipped little trill,

    Lully, lullay, lully, lullay

    The falcon has borne my mate away

    He bare him up he bare him down

    He bare him into the orchard brown

    In the meantime, my face burned. My little chest heaving with shame, for what I could

    not do, and anger, for what I might have done, I forced my swollen tongue to speak.

    Please, Majesty, please, It grated me to be polite even then but I was most

    assuredly in her power and she knew it and I knew it and so I could not be more forceful.

    Do not mock him. He was tiny but he was brave. There never was a braver knight in all

    the world and him only a scout. If you cant help him, or you wont, then please, do not

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    mock him. Her reaction is surprising to me even now as I think back on it. Instead of

    flying into another tantrum, she merely gave another quiet sigh and cocked her head

    slightly to the side, penetrating me with those golden owl eyes of hers.

    You think I mock ye, Tommy thing? You are very mm dense ah even for

    a man thing. I do not mock. Your dear fairy, whom you knew mm, ah but a brief

    spell belonged to me, a creature of the Aerie, and many ah was the time I buoyed him

    up and laughed at his whistling. But many more like him may be lost if ye do not come

    with me now. The time, it is almost gone, and the dawn will bring a red morn if ye refuse

    my call.

    I blinked at her stupidly. What else could I do? She spoke riddles and I had

    neither the patience nor the wherewithal to attempt their answer.

    Majesty, please I dont understand. Go where?

    Where else? she replied. To the Fairy Cove, the home of the Fairies first and

    of others of their kind beside. Did you mm forget so soon? This is but the trough and

    when the wave breaks it will be too late to prevent it. She paused then, tilting her head

    upward and angled, as if to catch some sound though I heard none, and her own eyes

    narrowed. Ah, mm he is parting now, non?

    Parting? I replied. Who? But I knew too soon what she meant. Up till now,

    I had been holding firm onto the body of the departed fairy, and perhaps, I was not overly

    gentle with him in the confusion that North Winds coming had engendered. To admit

    my shame more fully, I had quite forgotten that I had been clutching Hatt all throughout

    my immediate dialogue with the child queen, so natural did it come to me to hold the

    fairy always pressed to my heart. Now as I looked down, I saw that his form was fast

    changing in my hand, his silvery, wispy hair flattening and spreading into the shapes of

    the petal, and his limbs rapidly losing their musculature and becoming leaves. His

    features, in the meantime, quite melted away into the length of the stem so that in the

    space of but a few moments what had been the body of my friend was transformed into a

    sprig of what the gardener calls the rosemary, and we English call the Lovers Kiss. But

    even then, no parting gloom would I allow to separate us.

    The effect of this on my already fragile state, I mean of mind now, not body, for

    as I mentioned, the value of North Winds healing was that I was rendered fit as a fiddle,

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    which was all to the good since it was her intention soon to play upon me, as I shall come

    relate in a moment, but to return, the effect was to render me both stiff and mute, no

    mean feat. Certainly, if anyone else can tell me how one is supposed to react when ones

    best friend undergoes such a metamorphoses right in front of your eyes, I am sure I

    would be happy to hear him on the subject.

    In the meantime, North Wind continued her appraisal of me, and I am sure I did

    not very much rise in her estimation at this time, though certainly I could hardly have

    fallen in her present low opinion of me. But that is altogether another thing. To

    continue, or rather, not, I stood staring stupidly at the sprig of rosemary in my hands,

    until I heard a cough issue forth from the fatal mistress in front of me, at which I looked

    up, expecting as much reprisal as explanation. Perhaps, though, I thought too hard of her,

    for when she did speak, if it was not quite in a comforting tone, at least there was not so

    much of that cruel indifference which had so clung on her previous statements.

    Why stand you thus? Mm, ah be not affrighted, Tommy-thing. You seek Hatt,

    who died mm but his soul is,,, here she shrugged her child shoulders. Mm, she

    continued, he is not here. What you hold is mm, ah but a last expenditure of the

    magicks, which kept him as he was. A trifle compared to me as all things mm but not

    unpretty for that. You may keep it or no as you like, but maybe it will serve you in the

    future. It holds a bit of his nature mm if I am not wrong. And I, and here she gave a

    little smirk, am nothing wrong. Bearing in mind her words, and conscious ever of my

    feelings towards Hatt, I very carefully placed the little twig in my breast pocket, next the

    bronze thimble I had acquired but a short time before, and checking to make sure that the

    petals werent too badly crushed (they were slightly, but not unduly so and I thought it

    better they should be near me and worn, then far and fair), I presently looked up again at

    North Wind, awaiting, as it were, her pleasure or wrath, though more expecting the

    second than the first.

    I was not far wrong in my hypothesis, for I when I did look up, I saw her delicate

    silvery eyebrows arched, and her face looking at me in the most incredulous and

    exasperated manner possible, second only to that of my mothers regarding certain not

    completely unnecessary acts of terrorism against the present incarnation of the dictator

    who claimed that Cicero was as necessary as breathing to my life, involving a stinkbug, a

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    chair coated in honey, and a note purportedly written by Miss Nell the music teacher, but

    in actuality written by me. As I wracked my brain then, so I did now, trying to determine

    how far the plot was known and must be answered for, or how to get out of the trouble. I

    did not have to think overlong however, for almost immediately, her majesty North Wind

    apprised me of the reason for her angry mean and proceeded to give me such a bitter dose

    on the subject as should have quite shut me up for a year were I not already mute.

    You are quite ready, hmm? It is perhaps mm ah not too much of an

    inconvenience, is it Tommy Thing, to remind you of that which you promised? You ken

    of course, mm ahh that it is perhaps dangerous, and her eyes glittered purposefully as

    she spoke these last words, to keep a queen waiting. But of course, if you are busy, I

    wait, oui? With these last words, she settled back, and began kicking her legs again, but

    her eyes gave the lie to the over sweet courtesy of her words.

    The Battle! I yelped then, in a manner most unbecoming of the dignity of a boy

    of good English upbringing. In the advent of North Winds arrival, and our exchange, I

    had completely forgotten the martial origins of these preternatural visitations. I ran over

    to my newly restored wardrobe and pulled open the first drawer. To be met with my

    flannel nightgown torn in half, rumpled, and streaked with dirt. I gaped. I pulled open

    the second drawer. My Sunday suit normally pressed and creased by my mother and laid

    painfully to rest was likewise a crumpled mess, with numerous tears and rips as of having

    been worn in battle. I turned back to North Wind with confusion in my eyes.

    I dont understand, I said. You restored my room. Everything is right where it

    should be, I believe. Why did you not mend my clothes as well?

    She grimaced at me, her head still cocked slightly to the side and indeed, she

    looked very much like a great white owl in that position, resting perhaps, but vigilant

    still. Must I do it all for ye then, Tommy-thing? Did ye think ah that it would be

    that easy? Did ye not think to ask the why of it mm, ah of the Fairies and why it is

    only now that they come at ye with hearts filled with envy and so much malarkey?

    I drew back for a moment and blushed for I was ashamed to admit that I had

    never thought to even consider the timing of this soon-to-be war, but in my defense, I had

    had very little time to think since the night had begun. After all, who can think when

    such wondrous happenings are happening to you?

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    Majesty, I replied, I admit I never thought to ask. If you please, would you

    explain it to me?

    It is a terrifying feeling, I can assure you, to be totally at the mercy of someone

    who is not yourself, to be as an infant when you know you are not one. Again, she rose

    up, and her formed stretched upward and elongated so that her upper half towered above

    me and bent over me, and her hair spread out around me and over me, this weeping

    willow of a lady, and me the poor fool beneath the branches.

    The Time of Choosing is upon you, Thomas of the House of Flynn, she intoned

    in a sort of bell-chant, and her voice rang out so that my very bones trembled with the

    force of them, as if her voice was itself the thunder absent its brilliant herald. But I

    neither bent nor retreated. If you would know, and you would give action to your

    speech, come with me now mm or stay and see your part in this be taken from you.

    There can be no more doubts or questions in the here time. Come, and in me you will

    know all you need or stay here and forget. That is the Choice. As she spoke these last

    words, her face contorted into a grimace, and aged in front of me into the very portrait of

    a withered old gaunt, a wretch under the most extreme and painful duress and she

    hunched even further over me as there were a great stone on her back. Know this too,

    she continued, and to hear her, who had been but a moment before a young, vibrant girl,

    and now was a battered grandmother, was to hear the mournful crooning of the piteous

    Lass of Aughrim standing cold with her babe in her arms. I am North Wind, ah, the

    most abject of paupers, for I have no land, and all lands are denied me. I flail through

    them, driven by my nature, and all bow down to me or are broken before me, and that is

    my malice for I have no rest nor can know any. But you Tommy, if you would succeed,

    must not bow. Must not break. If you can give yourself to me, but be not of me, and be

    only you, then I will take you to the Fairy Cove. Choose Tommy. Only choose NOW!

    Sure and there was not such a wail in Albion since the death of Arthur and the

    cracking asunder of the Table Round. Overcome by such a heart-heavy appeal what else

    could I do? I stepped forward and I looked upon her full and I said the only words I

    could say. Your Majesty I answered, and my voice was full steady as I spoke, Im

    ready. And fool boy that I was, I truly thought this was so.

    She groaned deeply, and her anguished countenance softened so that I was glad at

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    my response, if slightly bewildered by the temerity of it. But still, I was sure that as it

    was the right thing to do, it was the only response that I could give, and that if my parents

    knew it, they would be justly proud of me, and not be upset that I was leaving the house

    without permission, since it seemed inevitable that this should be the case. Or at least, I

    hoped it should be so. My parents were of that queer kind who seemed to be continually

    astounded at what seemed to me the most obvious of facts, namely that yes, I absolutely

    must jump in puddles when it rained, it being conducive to my happiness, and most

    assuredly, I did have to resort to fisticuffs with one Tom Wilkins when he had been such

    an upstart as to suggest that his father could box the ears off mine, because he was an ass

    and a blighter and I was defending my honour.

    As I gazed at the bent figure in front of me, she gave another groan, and I heard

    an awful cracking as of the rending of a large branch, and from the trunk of her a silvery

    spark appeared and drew a line of light down the midst of her as if to split her, and when

    I blinked to clear my eyes, as it were, I saw this to be indeed the case, for she was riven in

    twain in front of me, so that where before she had been one slender silver frame, now

    within the folds of her gown, or I might say as easily, her silvery liquid hair, there was an

    opening, so high that I could just enter it without ducking my head, and so wide that I

    could just walk straight in without having to turn my shoulders to do so. Naturally, I was

    apprehensive as to the safety of the venture, that is, of actually walking in and entrusting

    myself to the care of this strange creature, be she a queen or no, but I knew my cause and

    my reason and so I determined to hesitate no longer, but to validate Hatts trust in me,

    and this weird ladys too, if I might, by being steadfast in my resolution. So reasoning, I

    amassed my courage, squared my shoulders, erected another earnest scowl to indicate my

    solemn resolve, clenched my hand tightly over my breast and those last mementos of my

    fallen comrade, and hurled myself, as it were, into the breach. I heard it again then, with

    that same effect as of the hangmans noose on the condemneds neck, close grimly

    behind me.

    Ch. 3 In Which Some Things Change and I Argue With a Door

    With such strange happenings as what I have already related being, at this point,

    the norm, or, if not quite so easy a term, at least, not any more unusual than anything else

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    that had occurred up to this point, I suppose I might have expected here something in that

    same line, that is, quite astounding, and it was to be sure, though certainly not in the way

    that I expected. Where North Wind had been, to my eyes, all light and liquid in the

    exterior, here within was nothing but a pallid gray fogginess, as of the Fens on a

    moonless night. Compared to what had come before in fact, it was rather disappointing.

    Unsure of myself, I stepped forward tentatively, and found that the ground (is it right to

    call it so? But certainly I dont know what else I could have called it), was firm enough

    to tread on and so I trusted my feet and tried to advance tentatively to see what there was

    to see but to no apparent effect for as far ahead of me as I could see, and if I turned either

    left or right, was that same dullish fog.

    Unsure what this silence, after so much noise and bluster, might portend, I

    attempted to call out, North Wind! only to find that my call had a strangely muffled

    quality, as if weighed down and made damp by that same fog that surrounded and

    shrouded me, so that what should have been a fair shout, came out as a dull squawk.

    I called out again, louder this time, North Wind! again, much to my dismay, to discover

    that with the magnification of my own voice, the deadening of the fog rose in equal and

    opposite amplitude, so that this time, my call did not extend, if I could judge by my own

    ears, more than an arms span in front of me, and I began now to be very afraid, for all

    was fog and gray around me, and I felt very much alone. All one and none beside me.

    Small wonder then that in those lonely seconds (for I know now that is all the time that

    passed if time could be said to pass in that non-space), I forgot myself and my mission

    and felt only the overwhelming desire to find some proof that there was more than what I

    saw to this world.

    Anxious to rectify the situation, if such a means was somehow in my power, I

    made as if to run forward, and found myself tripping over myself, as it were, and brought

    to my knees, for I discovered to my great consternation that where a second before I had

    had perfect freedom of movement (although no discernible place to move to that was in

    anyway different than my current location), my right leg was now held firm, as it seemed,

    by the fog surrounding me, and, as I observed, that same fog was in fact creeping slowly

    around and up my leg, like some silent, billowy snake. Scared out of my wits by this

    sorry new development, I pulled frantically at my leg and beat at the fog in an

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    increasingly desperate effort to unfasten myself, but where the fog was hard as steel in

    the encapsulating of my leg, it recaptured its intangible nature whenever I attempted to

    toss it from me. In the reckless abandon that I applied to the freeing of myself I

    somehow lost my hold of the little bronze thimble that up till this moment I had so

    carefully guarded, thus dispossessing myself of my precious, if symbolic, charge. Now

    made more distraught, being wholly unable to pry my leg from the foggy grasp during

    these impassioned seconds, and being also distracted in casting about for the bronze

    thimble in the meantime, but lacking the ability to penetrate, with my eyes alone, the

    quick hardening fog, I shamefacedly abandoned the latter effort, and focused my efforts

    on the reclamation of my limb, for if I could not at least accomplish that much, I should

    have no hope of any future acts that might make me worthy to bear the trust Hatt and

    North Wind had lain upon me.

    To add to my distress, being now alone, for now I had lost the one remnant of the

    fairy (and I knew not how that which remained in my pocket could be of any use to me)

    and not knowing how to contact the queen for aid, or whether such a thing was possible

    being as I must still be inside her, but being forced to make do with a seven and seven

    months of age boyish constitution as my sole means of support, I horrifyingly saw that

    that same boy body was becoming less solid where it was held by the fog, and indeed,

    that the fog was somehow poisoning me by its touch, and that poison was that I was

    being assimilated into its amorphous self. Underneath my increasingly less cohesive skin

    I saw tiny pinpricks of light appearing, such that beneath my fleshy membrane, my

    muscle and marrow was becoming a miniature map of the starry heavens, interspersed

    with storm clouds roiling through me as if pushed by a demonic wind, and all rolling up

    with increasing speed from my leg, and as I imagined under my school uniform, up my

    stomach and chest towards my panicked face. As the new cosmos beneath my skin grew

    more distinct, I grew less so, and by these terrifying circumstances, I discovered the true

    nature of the warning that North Wind had given me, that I should lose myself within her,

    and become like her, a creature of the spheres, and that my mortal body should be

    sacrificed in the metamorphoses. Perhaps the most gruesome aspect of the loss was that

    where one might expect to feel pain at such an unnatural transformation, I felt none of

    that physical sort. Only an easy but profound loosening, in the same manner that one

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    might pull upon the loose string of a rag doll, and watch as he fell apart in your hands, his

    cotton innards drifting lazily to the ground in the manner of a snow fall, only where he

    would fall down to the ground, I was caught upwards, pulled by the resounding silence of

    the void.

    By now, I was scrabbling forward by reaction as it were, and my vision began to

    blur, and I experienced that same terror of the mouse when it has been cornered by the

    cat, that terror that is itself a reckless longing for the agony of the unknowing to end so

    that all the fear should be at an end and me with it for any ending of such a feeling must

    be only sweet relief. A moment more, and I am certain that would have been the last of

    Tommy Flynn the boy, and the apotheosis of Tommy Flynn, the sylph, but for a

    fortuitous twist of fate in the manner of the shedding of my body. As my corporeal form

    was fast losing its right to make any continuing claim to its corporality, and my new aerie

    self was shedding itself of a skin that was both its anathema and a cumbersome vestigial

    anachronism, by chance it happened that in my mad, but heretofore useless attempt to

    pull myself away (to what purpose I know not as I was, as I mentioned before,

    completely surrounded by this fog), my hand fell upon that same thimble that but a few

    moments before, and an eternity for all that, I had dropped. As my hand fell upon the

    thimble, through my intense feelings of fear, there shone in my mind a brief moment of

    clarity as I recalled my promise to Hatt to keep this fetching token always close by me,

    followed immediately by a regret that I should have so failed the brave heart not only in

    this small task, but in the greater of finding a means to appease the warmongers of his

    people.

    As these thoughts came unbidden to my mind, I felt from that previously cool

    surface, a great chill shudder through me as when one has plunged into an icy lake in

    winters heart, and a tremor ran through me from the shock of it, and the air around me,

    and the fog clutching me trembled as well. As a consequence of this, my hand closed,

    perhaps by instinct or in some unconscious recognition of a hope for salvation, on the

    thimble and this time, I felt the thimble shake itself, like a little bell, and another icy

    vibrato reverberated from it, and passed through me, and shook me, and again, the air and

    the fog quivered and shook in countermeasure. Now my grip on the thing was sure, and

    squeezed as it was within my fist, I raised it up, and turning and raising myself as well as

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    I could from my prostrate position, I brought my fist down as mightily as I might on the

    fog worm encumbering me, or I might say, depriving me of a very necessary weight, that

    is, my body, and as my fist met the worm, the thimble grasped within it chimed a loud

    KOONG and another icy wave proceeded forth and through me, but did not harm me.

    The cold chaunt fell upon the fog worm and it shuddered, and rose up in a last feint, veins

    of ice appearing from all where it had been wrapped around my leg and torso, and then it

    cracked, and fell from me, and as it did so, the fog around me receded, so that I found

    myself in a small clearing, safe and weighty and whole.

    Relieved to find myself still none the worse for the experience, and my skin

    returned to its regular opaqueness, my clothes lying comfortably on a body that was

    pleasantly tangible again, I opened my fist to enjoy the sight of my tiny aegis, only to see

    that what had once been a sturdy, if dull, bronze thimble, was now rather a warped and

    crumpled bronze lump, and almost black as from a vigorous rubbing on of ashes. I was

    heartily sorry for this, as I had grown much attached to the jewel, and could be only more

    so now that it had effectively saved my human life. Gazing at that core of blackened

    metal, and remembering my mothers and Hatts injunctions that being polite can never

    harm you and can be often quite to the good, I felt it only proper that I should

    acknowledge the principal role played by that gallant metal in the vanquishing of the

    pernicious fog, and so I piped up with exceeding good will, Gramercy, Hatt!. I spoke

    the words, expecting no reply, and was answered thus, You are most welcome, sir, if it

    please you, sir, in a voice much beloved and more so unexpected.

    Well, I am sure you can guess from the passing politeness of the phrase whose

    voice it was I so unexpectedly and with unabashed joy heard speak to me from the midst

    of the metal, as it sounded to my ears. Why, it was none other than the piping shrill of

    my dear friend Hatt, lost to me but a short time before, and found again as quickly.

    Following this unexpected requital to my thanksgiving proclamation, I sat entranced, my

    eyes open full in wonder, as the metal in my hand shook itself once more, ringing another

    brassy koong in the process, and quite exploded in my hand (though to no ill effect

    towards me) into an assortment of motes of the most brilliant hues of silvers and greens

    and blues and quite as swiftly pulled themselves together again and faded away to reveal

    the very mirror of my good friend Hatt, in typical Spartan fashion, that is to say, still

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    quite naked.

    It would be no mean trick to fully describe my gladness at this unlooked for

    gratification. What joy Abraham receiving Isaac back into his arms? For surely this was

    the same miracle and Hatt was my family as sure as I am my fathers son. Any attempt

    then, to adequately describe my feelings in the moment of recognition must be

    exceedingly profuse to even begin to do them justice, and in the end, could only succeed

    in giving the vaguest outlines of my manifold joy, and so I shall pass over them here, and

    proceed immediately to the effects of them on my physical person, which were

    impressive in themselves.

    As a result of my interlope with the fog worm, or rather, its interlope upon my

    person, I was still in the position of the contortionist stretched upon the ground, with my

    right arm supporting my bulk and the main torso of my body turned forward and raised

    up, the better to strike the fatal blow with my left, the very picture, as I now know, of that

    famed classical statue commonly known as the Dying Gaul, but that my head was turned

    to my upraised left arm, the palm of which was open and upturned to support

    unnecessarily now the fledgling floating figure of the fairy scout, Hatt. I should say, that

    I began in that position, but having witnessed this sudden rebirth of my old friend, I did

    not remain long prostrate. Surprised at the nature of the event, I gave a loud whoop, and

    I fell back, and my arm rose up so that I caught Hatt quite undesignedly under his feet

    and sent him sailing upwards in catapult fashion, so that he gave an astonished whistle,

    and somersaulted once, twice, and not quite thrice before he righted himself, in typical

    fashion, by waving his arms spasmodically until he suspended his motion. In the

    meantime, as quickly as I had fallen back, I had sprung up, just in time to catch Hatts

    arms in my outstretched hands, and having done so, I proceeded to give him a robust

    handshake up and down in vigorous fashion, the length and duration of my embrace

    effecting to present in some small measure the prodigious girth of my happiness. I think

    perhaps it did so, but Hatt being such a tiny fellow to begin with, it also succeeded in

    sending him quite flying up and down, to the feeling of great dizziness I suspect, though

    Im sure he was too polite to say so, or perhaps he tried but I heard only Whup, whup,

    whup! in time with the motion of my arms.

    In the meantime, I was quite verbose enough for the both of us, for as I had hold

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    of him, I was also chattering away rampant, not all to the point either, for my thought

    advanced quite ahead of my speech so that my sentences jumbled all together to the tune

    of something like the following:

    Hatt I never expected to but of course my mother always says itll come true if

    we wish well and Father always tells her she should be more practical with me but its

    good to see you for all its a good show as I look at you dear fine fellow really a dear fine

    show.

    By now Hatt was looking a bit green about the gills, as they say, or I might say,

    he would have been looking green about the gills, if that hue werent already so natural to

    him. Instead, by chance as it were, I noticed his face well enough to recognize by the

    squinching of his eyes and the puckering of his tiny golden lips that he was trying very

    desperately to keep from himself from total discomfiture at the nature of my effusive

    greeting, he being still such a formal little fellow by dint of his culture, as I suspect, and

    unused to such heavy-handed displays of affection. Not desiring to further

    discombobulate the good fellow, I immediately released him, as it were, midshake, so

    that according to nature, he continued in the line of release, which is to say, straight up,

    and only slowly came back down in the manner of a leaf, that is, swaying gently back and

    forth until he came to rest again about eye level an arms length in front of me. Having

    done so, however, he was apparently too uncertain to open his eyes, for he kept them well

    shut, and his lips puckered and his pointed proboscis twitched violently as to preface a

    mighty sneeze. In the meantime, I was quite eager to speak with the fellow so that I was

    near bouncing in place, and would grasp him again, but for the thought that such a move

    would only lengthen the fairys squozen state. Instead then, in the interests of courtesy,

    to which I was sure the fairy would respond, I gave a little cough into my hand and said

    as formally as I could, though it felt ludicrous in the doing considering my keen

    sentimentality towards the creature, My dear Hatt! What a pleasure. How do you do,

    old top?

    Ridiculous and constructed as such a greeting seemed to me however, it brought

    about an immediate and noticeable relaxation in the fairy, such that his nose stopped

    twitching, and in fact, the nostrils of his pointed proboscis gave a contented little flare,

    his lips stayed no longer squelched but turned up into a delighted smile, and he opened

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    his silvery veined eyelids to reveal a pair of midnight blue eyes, eyes so deep that stars

    might choose to drown in them and give up forever their light.

    Very well, sir, if you dont mind my saying so, sir, and youll forgive me Im

    sure, if I tell you it is a pleasure most exquisite and unlooked for meeting you like this,

    sir. And to emphasize his point, I saw him open wide his jaws in that most fa


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