I found her in the meadow, just as she had promised. She was kneeling by a small brook that passed through the grasses there. Her hair was blonde and pulled into a loose braid, and her gray cloak draped around her on all sides. And though I tried to step quietly, she must have heard me coming, because she stood up and turned my way.
"I'm so happy you came," she said with a slight smile.
"You look different in the daylight," I said, stepping closer.
And it's true, she did look different. I had only met her once before, you see, and that was on the night of the last full moon.
I had been walking along Old Oak Lane, the one that led from our small hamlet into the city. I was returning home that night from the Festival of Lights. My sister was supposed to walk home with me, but she had set her eyes on a pretty boy, and could not be dragged away.
"Take the horse," she had said, swigging at her pint of ale. "You can make the journey yourself. It's a full moon, and no thieves will bother you tonight."
I did go home alone, but I didn't bring the horse. With the moon shining as bright as it was, and with so many travelers on the road, I was confident that I would make it home unmolested.
And it was true, when I set out on the road, there were many travelers. They linked arms and murmured happy secrets into each others' ears. But as I walked further from the city, my fellow travelers grew fewer and further between, until finally, I was all alone on the wide lane. I would have been scared, except for the fact that the entire road was illuminated by the moon, and I could see for miles in both directions.
I kicked at the dirt and cursed my luck. You see, my sister wasn't the only one who had seen a pretty face that night. I had also spotted a girl, and I thought she had spotted me, too. But as fast as I had spotted her, and as fast as her golden eyelashes had fluttered in my direction, she was gone, as if she had vanished into thin air.
I spent the rest of the evening scanning the crowd for any sign of her, but to no avail. I kicked the dirt again.
"How come Sarah gets all the luck?" I mumbled under my breath.
And then there was a commotion, a rustling just beyond the giant oak trees. I thought perhaps it was a deer. I stopped in my tracks and listened.
And then she stepped out into the road. Her gray cloak billowed in the breeze, and her lips were an eerie blue in the moonlight.
It was her. I knew it right away, even though her eyes were in shadow.
"Hello?" I said.
"Hello," she said. "Are you traveling this road alone?"
"Yes, but I'm not scared." But even as I said it, my heart pounded.
"Ah-ha," she said. "You're brave. But you know, there is a fine line between bravery and foolishness."
"I suppose…Didn't I see you before? At the festival?"
She took a step toward me and smiled. Her cloak swished about her ankles, and her boots crunched in the gravel.
"Perhaps," she said. "Do you like festivals?"
"Yes, I suppose. Actually, no. Not really. I don't really like large crowds of people."
She stared at me, and I swear her eyes were a darker shade of black than the night sky. I felt her examination, as if she were sizing me up, taking stock of me. Her eyes danced over my face, my body, my hair. She smiled then, just a slight turning up at the corners of her mouth.
"How far do you have to walk?" she said.
"Not far."
"Well, the moon will be down soon, and then the road will be completely black. You'd better hurry."
"Yes," I said. "It's not far. I live just up the road."
I pointed and she turned to glance behind her, everything an elegant motion.
"Or..." she said, reaching a hand out. "You could take this torch."
And just as she said the last word, torch, a flame danced to life over her open palm. It was about the size of a rose blossom when fully bloomed and it was suspended in mid-air. It cast a radiant, red glow that created severe shadows on her face. I saw the flame reflected in her hazel eyes, and I guessed that my eyes looked the same.
"How is it possible?" I said softly.
"Just a little fire magic."
She looked up from beneath her thick eyelashes, just as she had done at the party, and she smiled.
"Take it," she said and she pushed her open palm toward me.
"I can't."
"Of course you can. It's my gift. It won't burn you, if that's what you're concerned about."
"Really?"
"A Fae doesn't lie."
My breath caught in my throat.
"Fae?" I whispered.
"Of course," she said and she giggled. "Don't you know a Fae when you see one?"
"I've never seen one before," I said. "You're my first."
"Really? A human as attractive as you? That's hard to believe."
The flame still danced over her palm. She gestured toward me again.
"Take it," she said.
Timidly, slowly, I opened my hand, and she tipped her own hand over mine. The flame glided into my palm as if it were made of liquid. It settled there, and she was right; it was not hot. It felt cool, like someone blowing gently over my skin with pursed lips.
I shivered.
"Thanks," I said. "It's beautiful."
"It's my pleasure."
Somewhere down the road, another traveler was approaching. We heard the clump, clump of horse hooves.
"I'd better go," I said.
"Yes. Me, too." She slipped her hands back into her cloak and then pulled the hood over her head.
"Wait," I said. "What's your name?"
She smiled then. "Delphine...and you're Cosima."
"Yes," I said. "How did you know?"
"I heard your sister call you."
The horse hooves grew louder down the road. The approaching traveler was just around the corner. Delphine ran toward the treeline, disappearing there, her cloak suddenly the same color as the night.
"Wait!" I whispered.
"Yes?"
I heard her voice, but I could not see her in the darkness.
"When can I see you again?" I whispered.
"Do you know the meadow not far from here?" she whispered back. "The one that is cut by a brook?"
"Yes. I know the one."
"Meet me there at dusk on the night of the next full moon."
I could tell by the change in the air that she was gone. I saw the stranger down the road leaning heavily on his horse as he walked.
I took one look at the stranger and one look at the sky. Delphine was right. The moon was already slipping behind the mountain tops. Soon it would be dark.
Without another word, I set off running in the direction of my house, my arm stretched out before me, the little flame bouncing in my palm all the way.
When I got home, I hid the flame behind my back, said hello to my mother, and climbed up the ladder to the loft one-handedly. Once there, I searched for a container, any sort of container. I found a rusty old tin that I used to store buttons and spools of thread. I dumped the contents out, and then, I tilted my hand, just as I had seen Delphine do.
The flame glided into the tin and swayed back and forth, its soft glow enhanced by the tin's metal walls. I slammed the lid on quickly, fearful that my mother might have seen the light.
When I was convinced that she had noticed nothing, I climbed under the blankets of my bed, curled into a ball, and pulled the tin close to my face. That night, and every night for a month, I would pull open the lid, just enough to peek in, and I would watch the flame bounce, transfixed by its beauty. Every night for a month.
And then, I saw her again, kneeling by the brook in the meadow.
"You look different in the daylight," I said.
She stood and turned toward me.
"So do you," she said. "I wasn't sure you'd show."
"It's a full moon. You said to come on the full moon."
We both tilted our heads back to look up at the moon. It was already shining bright white behind radiant, pink clouds.
"So I did," she said. "But you know, I thought, perhaps, you would doubt me. Perhaps you would think I was only a dream; a side effect of too much ale."
"I didn't drink any ale that night," I said.
"And my present?" she asked. "Do you still have it?"
"Yes," I said. "I keep it in a safe place."
This made her smile. She looked down at her feet and rubbed a toe along the dried up mud.
"It will burn your whole life," she said. "If you want it to."
I didn't know what to say to that, so I hugged myself, rubbing at the backs of my own arms. My skin was covered in goosebumps, and my throat was dry. "So," I said. "Are you going to seduce me and abduct me now?"
"What?! What are you talking about?"
"Isn't that what Fae do?" I asked. "Abduct young girls and steal them away to their kingdom."
"Oh, we aren't so sinister as all that. Why? Is that what you want?"
"No," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "Not really."
She reached up and unhooked her cloak, letting it fall from her shoulders. Under her cloak she wore a gown made of sheer white material that shimmered in the setting sun. I could see the contours of her body as she walked past me; the shape of her breast and hip.
"Aren't you cold?" I asked.
She laughed at that.
"No, we don't feel things the same way you humans do."
She laid the cloak out in the grass, and then she sat down upon it, stretching her legs out and leaning back, resting on her palms.
"Come sit down," she said with a little pat of her hand. "Make yourself comfortable."
I sat down next to her, but I wasn't comfortable. Not really. I couldn't look at her directly. The sheerness of her gown was too distracting.
"What do you mean?" I said. "What is different?"
"Well, how can I explain it?" She glanced upwards, as if she were searching for the right words. "All living things occupy multiple realms," she said. "And some of these realms…overlap."
"I don't think I understand."
"Hmm," she said and she took a deep breath. "Well, think of it as a sliding scale, like music. You know that some instruments make low sounds, and some instruments make high sounds, right?"
"Yes."
"And some sounds are so high or so low that you can't hear them at all, but that doesn't mean other creatures can't hear them. Take dogs, for example…"
"Yes. That much makes sense."
"Well," she said, "Humans and Fae, we exist on—we experience—different realms and some of our experiences overlap. For instance, we are both sitting here in this meadow, talking to each other, aren't we?"
"Yes."
"But just as it is true that a bugle and a fife might share a few notes, the majority of their notes are out of each others' range. Does that make sense?"
I shook my head and laughed. My cheeks felt hot, and I was embarrassed to admit that I still didn't quite understand.
"Look," she said, reaching a hand out. "You and I, we are sitting here, on this cloak, in this meadow, and we both hear that brook and we both see the sunset, and we both can feel the breeze on our skin. And those are all notes that we both share."
She touched my hand and I felt it, all right. I felt it like a shock. It shot up through my arm, straight to my spine and down to my crotch.
"But there are some things—many things—that you experience that are out of my range. And there are things that I experience that are out of your range."
"I think I understand."
"Humans live at a higher frequency than Fae. You experience time faster, and your emotions run hotter. You're more impulsive, hot blooded… passionate."
"Gods, you make us sound like wild beasts," I said, running a hand through my hair.
"Well, Fae, on the other hand," she said, picking a blade of grass and running it through her long fingers. "Fae can be quite cold. Even our fire is cold. Nothing burns."
"But your fire is beautiful," I said. "And it glows forever."
"What is an eternal flame?" she said pensively. "If it carries no warmth?"
"Well, I'm not sure humans have it any better. Our fire has the power to give warmth, but it also has the power to destroy."
"Yes, the cycle of creation and destruction is so fast for you—so intense and overwhelming."
"It's not like that for you?"
"No," she said, and she looked sad. "Not exactly."
She twirled the blade of grass between her fingers and looked toward the brook.
I wanted to touch her. My palms burned with the desire to reach out and touch her porcelin skin.
Is this the burning she's talking about? I wondered.
"But," she said. "Sometimes…"
She looked at me then, and I thought I saw a rose colored tint to her cheeks, but it was hard to tell in the twilight.
"Sometimes…" she started again. "A Human and a Fae, if their bodies are synchronized, if they find the right rhythm, then they can—through the extension of the other—feel those hidden frequencies."
"Bodies?" I said, not quite sure what she meant.
"Yes."
She touched my hand again.
"Sometimes, if two spirits resonate, then they can extend themselves out, reach through their lover to realms that they cannot reach alone."
"Their lover?"
She lifted my hand to her mouth.
"Yes," she said, her breath hot on my palm.
I swallowed hard.
"I don't know," I said. "I mean...what if I can't...resonate?"
"You're resonating already," she said and she kissed my palm. "I can hear it."
"You can hear it?"
"Yes," she said and she kissed me again.
"What does it sound like?"
My mouth hung open.
"It sounds like…" she started, but then she paused. "It sounds like...waves crashing against the seashore."
I laughed nervously, because at that moment, that's exactly what it felt like inside my skin.
"Oh," I said as she pulled my sleeve up and kissed my wrist.
"And you're already burning," she said and she pressed her cheek to my wrist. "You're already burning so hot."
I licked my lips.
She was right. I was completely on fire. My skin burned and tingled and my heart pounded in my chest and my blood raced through my veins and my ears buzzed with energy.
But her skin was cool to the touch, and her movements were languid and elegant. She did everything slowly, smoothly, gently.
She placed a hand on my shoulder and lowered me onto my back. She laid down next to me, and she draped her thigh over mine. Then she began to unbutton the front of my blouse, moving slowly from one button to the next, her fingers as steady and as light as the drifting clouds.
She laid her hand flat against my chest and she became very still.
"Your heart," she said. "It pounds like a rabbit's."
I didn't say anything to that. I was too nervous to talk and any words I could have said would have been inadequate. I could not explain how I was feeling. I wasn't even sure myself.
Then she lowered her head to my chest and kissed my breast bone. When she looked up at me, she smiled. She moved up to my face, turning my chin to the side, and then she kissed my neck, her lips leaving a trail of cool kisses up to my ear. Then she pressed her nose against my skin and took a deep breath.
"You're aroused," she whispered into my ear. "I can smell it."
I trembled and the sensation was almost unbearable.
"Be still," she cooed. "Be still, my little rabbit."
I stared up at the darkening sky, my body catching fire in a way I had never experienced before. And all around us, rising up from the meadow grasses were thousands of fireflies. They buzzed and floated, their lights meandering through the meadow in soft motions.
I stared up at the glowing, full moon. It seemed so large, so heavy that it might fall from the sky and crush us both.
And as I gazed upwards, Delphine moved downwards, pushing my shirt away from my body, kissing my stomach as she went, until she reached my trousers and began to unlace them. And when she had unlaced them, she slipped them from my legs, folded them neatly, and set them on the corner of her cloak.
Everything she did was a deliberate motion. Nothing rushed.
And after she set the trousers down, she looked at me and smiled. I noticed then, that her skin was luminescent. A soft glow radiated out from beneath the sheer fabric of her gown. Her skin was now glowing gold, and she was pulsing in languid rhythms, pulsing in time with the fireflies that surrounded us.
She straddled my hips, pulling her skirt up so that she was naked from the waist down. Her cool center was pressed right against my pubic bone.
I shuddered and squirmed beneath her.
She laid a cool hand on my shoulder.
"Be still," she cooed. "Be still."
But even as she said it, she began rocking her hips, grinding down. I could not stop my hips from moving back against her. I reached out. I grabbed her thighs. The lean muscles there were flexing and relaxing, flexing and relaxing, glowing more brightly with each stroke of her hips.
And inside me, pressure was building; a great pressure that originated deep in my pelvis and seemed to take control of my body.
I began writhing beneath her, squeezing her thighs, and pushing up hard; bucking sometimes because the sensations were too overwhelming. She smiled and watched my face, her hands placed firmly on my stomach.
I got the impression that she was riding me, riding my energy, riding my fire the way a boatsman rides the currents of the river. I got the impression that she was causing the pressure, feeding the fire inside me with her gaze and touch. I got the impression, in my cloudy mind, that this was not how lovers usually felt, that this was something more—that this was magic.
But I didn't care.
And then—slowly, gently—she leaned back. I grabbed her hips.
"Wait!" I said. "Don't go!"
She grabbed my hands in hers and kissed them. And now her lips were warm.
"Don't worry," she said.
She swung her leg around, and she pushed my knees up. And then, she lowered herself over me, leaning at an awkward angle, and I wasn't sure what she was about. But then, she pressed herself down, pressed her crotch down right on top of mine, and our bodies mingled in slow, pulsing motions. The sensation sent a fresh wave of fire through my veins.
Now it was clear. I remembered her words from before.
...if their bodies are synchronized…
Our legs interlocked and our bodies rocked together, generating a sweet heat between us that made me dizzy with overstimulation. I leaned back, moaning, resigning myself to the sensation.
...if they find the right rhythm…
She rocked against me like that for what felt like hours, but maybe it only felt that way. Time, you see, seemed to stretch out before me, pulling me in many directions at once. I had always thought of time as a great river, moving always forward, sometimes fast and furious, sometimes slow and meandering. But as she rocked against me, her center pushing right up against mine, the moon casting halos behind her head, and her body glowing like an ember; I could swear time opened itself up, became not like a river at all, but large and expansive, as expansive as the sea.
...then they can, through the extension of the other… feel those hidden frequencies…
"There!" she whispered. "Do you feel it?"
"Yes!" I said. "Yes!"
I turned my head away from her. I threw an arm over my face. My back was arching on its own, my lungs were crying out. All I could do was close my eyes and feel.
And I felt many things. I felt the earth beneath me. It was warm. I heard the sounds of the brook, not the airy sounds of the trickling water, but the deep sounds, the sounds that resonated through the earth and called animals from afar.
I heard the fireflies humming in beautiful harmonies.
I heard Delphine's heart, pounding slowly but persistently. And I smelled her, too. She smelled like ripe fruit, almost too ripe; fruit that was nearly ready to be pressed into wine.
When I looked up at her, she was glowing so brightly that she was nearly the color of the amber flame that she had given me on the road. I reached a hand out and touched her stomach. Her skin was warm, almost hot. She leaned back, her hands resting awkwardly on my knee, and her faced twisted into a painful expression. Our hips moved faster now, and our cries echoed through the night.
I let my head fall back again, and when I did, I saw the stars. They blazed above me, brighter than I had ever seen. There were so many of them, as if the gods had painted the sky with stardust in a series of quick, dynamic strokes.
"I had no idea," I whispered to myself.
And the stars seemed to touch me, seemed to lean right down out of the sky and kiss my cheeks. It was a pleasant sensation.
Then, Delphine grabbed my hands and she squeezed.
"This is it!" she huffed. "This is it!"
Her skin radiated in great swirls of amber light, and when I looked down, I saw that I was glowing, too.
"This is it!" she huffed again. "This is the end! The delicious end!"
And then she cried out, her back arching, and her body shaking. I pushed my hips up against her one last time, and I too, felt all of my pleasure burn up and leap out of me. I felt it fly from my mouth, fly from my crotch, fly from the tips of my fingers and my toes. I felt it all fly out at once, just like a flame extinguishes into smoke.
And with one last cry, we collapsed onto her cloak. She crawled toward me and laid beside me, her legs and belly still glowing softly.
She hugged me then, and buried her face in my neck.
"Oh, my little spark!" she whispered in my ear. "I found you! I found you!"
She pushed my hair back from my face and kissed it all over. She was so beautiful that I, too, was overcome with the desire to kiss her everywhere. I kissed her cheeks and her eyebrows and her eyelids.
"My little spark!" she kept whispering between kisses.
And the sound of her voice, the sound of her happiness, stirred something in my chest. I found myself crying, hot tears rolling down my cheek.
Surprised, she stopped kissing me. A look of curiosity crossed her face.
"What?" she said. "Are these...tears?"
"Yes," I said as I bit my lip. I tried to wipe the tears with the back of my hand, but she stopped me.
"Wait," she said. "I've never seen real tears before."
"No?" I said. "Don't Fae cry?"
"No. Why should we?"
"I don't know. Don't you ever feel overwhelmed? Emotional?"
"Is that why you cry?"
"Yeah. I guess so."
"Fae children are taught that humans carry so much fire in their chest, that if they did not cry tears of water, then the fire would consume them and they would destroy themselves."
I laughed at that.
"Maybe the Fae are right."
"You've been gone a long time," she said, and she leaned over me, running her finger along my stomach. "Won't your family worry about you?"
"Yes."
I touched her face. Her skin was still warm. I sat up and reached for my trousers. "You're probably right. I should go."
"Can I see you again?" she said. "Next month?"
"Sure."
And then she smiled and kissed me for several more minutes, or at least I think they were minutes. I can't be too sure. My body was still resonating in realms that I was not used to. It could have been hours for all I know.
But finally, I stood up, put on my clothes and said my farewells. She stood up, too, pulling the cloak back over her shoulders.
She walked me to the edge of the meadow and then stopped at the tree line.
"Are you safe to get home?" she said.
"Yes."
"Alright," she said. "Then I will see you on the next full moon."
I kissed her, pulling her body right close to mine, but I could feel that she was already cool to the touch, already slipping back into her own realm.
"So," I said, with my face very close to hers. "What, exactly, happened back there?"
I nodded in the direction of the brook.
She smiled and pulled away from me. She held my hand for a moment and lingered, her mouth closed in a tight-lipped smirk. The fireflies floated about her knees and the brook babbled in the distance.
"Just a little fire magic," she whispered.
Then she pulled her hood up over her head, and almost instantaneously, she disappeared, blending in with the meadow grasses.
THE END