Profane Tales: Melancholy & Magic (part 1 of 2)

1
SOMEWHERE IN the Kingdom of a mortal King, a Princess was away and visiting her relatives. In her long absence, the Unicorn who was her protector and friend would lie in the king's garden and sleep. When he woke he stared into the sky and wished for an end to his memories. Time for him had become heavy. He bowed his head and stood that way as hours passed. Every mortal man, woman and child who crossed his path would bow their heads as well and begin to weep. The Unicorn's sorrow touched every mortal who saw him.

"Look at the Unicorn," they would say, but instead of the joy or wonder that usually followed, a melancholy of deepest black settled on them.

It became so dark in their hearts that the mortal King had to make a decision. "Every time my daughter is gone for more than a few days this happens. We cannot keep living this way. Nor will the Unicorn go to hang his head elsewhere, no matter how we shoo or threaten him. Something must be done."

With a weeping heart the King ordered that the ancient creature at last be put to rest. As the guards arrived to tell the Unicorn this news, he lifted his head, white fur shining in the moonlight. He nodded and let his head drop again. The creature made no move to run or fight.

"Have you nothing to say?" the Guard asked.

"What difference shall it make if I am quiet or I speak? In eternity, all paths lead back to an end."

The guards stepped away and gave the Unicorn some time before they would return with the axe to do the deed. Unseen, all of this was watched by the keen eye of Puck. Or as some mortals knew him, "Robin Goodfellow." 

He lamented, "No! That is almost the last Unicorn there is. Noble and powerful creature! My King will not hear of this creature of night perishing in such an anti-climatic way! I must tell him!"
And so Puck did.

2
SOMEWHERE IN the Other World, the one of Fae and fantastical things, the Queen of Fae had ordered the execution of a dangerous being. The Queen stood surrounded by her guards and with axe in hand. In front of her knelt a she-creature with black wings and a veil over her face. As the Queen lifted her axe, the sun began to set. The scarlet-haired beauty looked at her shadow beside the siren and sighed.
"Here. Let my husband deal with the bloody part of this ritual. I retire, it is his time," she told the guards.

Some of them gaped but the older ones merely shook heads for the familiar order. The Queen, more accustomed to the diplomatic daytime duties, left on the back of her fantastical flying creature. The trembling siren lifted her head, a look of perplexity visible beneath her veil.

When night fell there was a clap of thunder and gust of wind. The King of Fae appeared in a grand sweep of splendor and the guards announced him. His voice was the terror of nightfall, cut and scratched from years of warring " WHAT IS THIS MY WIFE LEAVES ME? AN AXE AND A HARPY?"

"A siren, actually, your majesty," Puck appeared in time for the King's entrance. "The last of her kind, I believe. She ate most anything she could lure to her path."

"But is that not the nature of the beast? Why are we executing her?" he rasped.

"Particularly, she ate virgins. Whom your wife protects."

"She is the very last. And we have no war against these particular demons. They mind their own. One must eat to live!" the King announced, voice still a cascade of power.

Puck cleared his throat, his floppy ears lying flat. He was used to his King's overwhelming presence. But the siren clearly was not. She had curled up on the ground in a tight ball of whimpers and feathers.

"Perhaps we could convince Her Majesty to spare the poor thing if she heard her sing. Such a song is a treasure, especially if this is the last."

Oberon nodded. His bronze eyes lit. "Yes. SING, SIREN!"

The little veiled siren lifted her head up, entire body shivering. She opened her mouth, took in a breath of night air and sang. But it was a frightened squeak, something a mouse might have topped in a contest.

Puck winced. "Not a show-stopper."

"Sing if you WISH TO LIVE, CREATURE!"

"Your Majesty, that may not be the way to go about coaxing a song out of a frightened siren. And on that topic. I have news for you about our favored Unicorn."

Oberon turned to meet Puck's gaze with his own, curious. "What news have you?"

"The King who keeps him plans to execute him. The poor creature is melancholic and a Unicorn's sorrow spreads to all mortals in the area. Quite a tear-jerker."

"And so they should make the thing glad! Killing it fixes nothing, for then they have unicorn blood on their hands and nothing cures such regret! SHOULD I SPEAK TO THEM?" he belted.

"I do not favor that idea either, Your Highness," Puck gave an innocent smile. "But I do have an idea."

"You have my ear."

"I believe these pathetic creatures could help one another. This siren is an immortal maiden. The unicorn is an immortal friend. Both probably the last of their kind. He may stir the song in her once again and that will stir him to smile, for her song is balm to the soul. It is too bad she cannot sing right now. You should hear the kind of notes these creatures can hit--"

"Done! We shall show them to one another. But first we must take the Unicorn from the mortal king's court."

"You cannot drive a unicorn where it does not want to be..." Puck sang-song.

"Mortals cannot drive unicorns. We shall see what an immortal King can do!" the tall fairy exclaimed, lifting from the ground with his large wings.


3
WHERE THE Unicorn sulked by the castle fountain there was no sign of other life around him. But in his own reflection, he could see the moon become clouded. He recognized the outline of the Fairy King on the Moon and his eyes opened wider, delicate ears set to twitching. From the water of the fountain several water sprites jumped. They seized the Unicorn with expert hands and pulled him face first into the water.

That water was deeper. Deeper than any man-made fountain, for it led into the Other World.

The Unicorn emerged from the deep and found himself in a pond far, far from the kingdom where he had been. He jumped from the pond and skittered about like a newborn deer.

"I apologize on behalf of the King," came a familiar voice.

"Robin! What is this meaning of this!" the disgruntled, wet unicorn commanded. "Has the King lost his already hole-ridden mind?"

"Shhh..." Puck shushed him and laughed. "We wanted you safe from the axe."

"Out of the boiling pot and into the fire. I know where I am, fae. I have been here before and it is as dull as the mortal demon-haunted world."

Puck's ears drooped, large brown eyes reflecting true hurt. "Now, Unicorn, why be so harsh. We only want to see you happy again."

"I have not been happy. I have not known happiness for longer than you, your King, your Queen or any of the beings here have lived. I am older than this very realm."

"We thought we might have found a kindred spirit for you. If you want to be difficult then do so." Puck folded his arms and shook his head. "But you will have my King to answer to."

"I have a King to answer to in your world and in another world. I am tired of kings. Let them question me, let the axe fall. I do not care."

The Unicorn shook himself off and began to walk in the opposite direction of Puck. His head was turned upward while little droplets of water fell from his body. Never had a Unicorn looked so mournful.

---
A/N: Not sure why blogspot isn't letting me space this story properly or not publishing it on time. I'm working on remedying this. Part 2 shall be up Sunday. As always, feedback is welcome and let me know you like by sharing. <3, LB

Exit the Briars: LB's "Veil" on Opening Line!

Check out LB's short story "Lifting the Veil" in the online The Opening Line magazine's October Supernatural edition.

A short creep tale. A sister relates her brother's decline into obsession over a mysterious woman wearing a veil. Read but not if you're planning any sleep tonight.

Expect an update Wednesday. A new short story just for the winter. And here. Have some art I made or the winter and in the vein of "Lifting the Veil." Though I believe this is the Ghost of Christmas Future and not the character in the short story~ <3

short story- (2/2) Hallow's Eve

In the days of swing sets and monkey bars, Amelia hadn’t minded when Sarah snooped into her diaries. Those were the days when Amelia had been proud of Sarah, her prodigy kid-sister, the one who read at four levels above her classmates. It was before the pride gave way to lurking envy, and Amelia resented both her older and younger siblings for having the academic brains she did not. Perhaps, if Sarah had not insisted on correcting silly things Amelia uttered, if Derrick had been more gaurdian-like than brotherly, then perhaps Amelia would not have joined this parody of a “family.” A “family,” another name for a harem of cast-off girls and one very manipulative man.

Sarah could hardly absorb a word of her sister’s diary, as her mind raced. She would need to escape somehow. She turned to the window and then back at the latest entry of Amelia’s writings.

October 13- want to move back home. Hate to think about it. No privacy in this place and I miss school. Never thought I would feel that way. But we go for days without food. Yesterday Lili and I had to dig in the garbage for something to eat. Whenever I crash like this, it feels like the fall is longer and harder each time, and instead of growing up I burn out. What the hell is wrong with me?

October 14-he means well. It’s the tough period. Things will get better.

“Stupid,” Sarah mumbled to herself again.

What had she expected to read in the diary?

She imagined Willy, in the center of a dimly lit orgy on the bed before her. She envisioned her sister there, the center of Willy’s attention, and she could not help but bite her lip against the anger that arose.

If she was quiet, perhaps she could tiptoe out of the house, still in the guise of Yoda, and slip unseen into the night with Amelia’s diary in hand. Derrick had been right. Calling the cops would have been wiser, but what was Sarah supposed to have done in the meantime? Knit by Amelia’s bedside, waiting until the doctor’s declared she was legally a vegetable. Only the doctors would never declare such a thing, since Amelia, being only 20, wouldn’t have a living will.

A living will.

The knock on the door was light and even polite. But it startled Sarah nonetheless.

“Anyone in there?” A man’s soft voice called.

Sarah retreated behind the Yoda mask, as though it would shield her in any way.

“Come on, sweetheart. We just want to see who you are,” he called in a smooth northern accent. “We didn’t know we had a special guest.”

Her hand shaking, Sarah slipped her mask off and called out. Her first words to him were a lie, as she slipped the diary back beneath the bed mattress.

“I’m sorry,” she called out, this time feminizing her voice with ease. “I got lost.”

“It’s alright. Open the door and we’ll see what we can do,” Willy assured. The voice was like autumn wind, neither cold nor warm, simply a pleasant medium.

“You promise you won’t hurt me?” she spoke, simply the fill the silence, as she dug into her baggy jean pocket for the brass knuckles.

“Nobody’s going to hurt you, sweetheart. What’s your name?”

“Mimi,” she lied again. “I’m scared.”

A female whispered something on the other side of the door, and Willy spoke again, “Listen, Mimi. It’s okay. Why don’t you just open the door and we’ll see what we can do, okay?”

Here was a moment where decision is nearly void. There was no way of running, and no other option available, so she slipped behind her mask again and unwound the door lock.

Willy stood there, three unkempt women at his side. Lili’s pale countenance was not among them. Two unfamiliar brunettes and one vaguely familiar blonde.

Willy was nearing Sarah before she realized it. Effortlessly, he backed her into a corner with no aggression, and pulled the mask from her face.

“Mimi, is it?” he smiled soothingly. His hand smoothed hair from her face. “How old are you, darling?”

“Thirteen,” Sarah wove one more lie, knowing she could pass as younger. “Please, my cell phone is dead. Can I call home?”

“Sure, in a minute,” his thumb barely touched her lips. The smell of sweat was all about him, and a gentle expression in his gleaming eyes. “How’d you end up here?”

“My friends and I were camping.”

“Yeah?” He turned, almost sassy, to the women in the doorway, “Dawny, I know why you thought she sounded like Amelia.”

Dawny, the busty beauty giggled.

“This is Amelia’s little sister. Sarah Hardgood, right?” he smiled back at her. “You’re a pretty one, aren’t you? Even prettier than Amelia.”

Mind-bendingly, Sarah’s eyes somehow were distracted from Willy’s, now focused on the blonde girl’s face.

“Kayla?” Sarah let her missing classmate’s name slip. So this is where 14-year-old Kayla Bender had disappeared to?

“You girls know each other?” Willy inquired, still gentle.

“She was in a grade above me,” Kayla answered.

“Hey, girls. Can I talk to Sarah alone for a minute?”

“Maybe she knows where Amelia ran away to!” Dawny smiled.

With brutal urgency, Willy shot this hopeful quip dead. “Go downstairs, Dawn.”

Sarah felt her own body trembling in protest, as the three witnesses left the scene. Willy smoothed Sarah’s bangs again. “Why are you here, Sarah? I mean, really.”

“I was curious to talk to you guys. I thought maybe…you’d…know who did this to her.”

“Right, okay. “ He nodded.

The blow that sent Sarah to the floor nearly blinded the left side of her face. For a moment, the world was nothing but lights. However, quickly the images reappeared to reveal a snarling visage of frustration and lust. Willy shook Sarah with violence. He was talking nonsense, blabbering as he shook her with his superior strength. With her right hand she struck out blindly, but the iron knuckles were useless in blank air. Then, before Willy could recognize the object Sarah jabbed him in the left eye so that, for a moment, she was loosed of his grip.

Fleeing downstairs, she collected her robes all around her, nearly tripping.

“Grab her! Don’t LET HER LEAVE!” Willy commanded.

It was Dawny who grabbed Sarah, with surprising strength for such a willowy girl. Soon the others joined in restraining Sarah. She kicked, for her hands were restrained.

“The little bitch split my eye open!” Willy growled, in the distance, getting too close.

“Let me go you, fuckheads!” Sarah yelled. “He’s a psycho! God!”

“Slut!” Willy’s fingers dug into the flesh of Sarah’s face. “Tie her up! There’s cable in the utility room! Tie her up!”

In retaliation, Willy poked Sarah in the eye, and in turn she snapped at his finger with her teeth, and succeeded in drawing blood.

“Shit! Bitch! That’s my fuckin’ FINGER!”

“Got the cable!” Lili’s voice sang. “Sit right here, sweetheart.” She patted a kitchen chair playfully. “It won’t hurt if you don’t struggle.”

“Fuck you! You do it, then! You twisted bitch!” Sarah was quickly silenced with another slap.

“Take this fucking thing from her!” Willy ripped the iron knuckles from Sarah’s small hands. As he stared down at it, and back at Sarah, she closed her eyes on instinct. But the heavy blow of metal never came.

“Just tie her up, Lili. Girls, come upstairs with me. I need to tell you why this bitch needs to go.”

“But isn’t she Amelia’s sister?” One of them asked.

“Yeah, she’s the reason Amelia left us.”

Sarah marveled, even as she was roughly bound to the kitchen chair. She marveled at these women and their apparent stupidity. She knew that a mind was an easy thing to lose, especially with the aid of drugs, but to this extent she had never suspected ever to witness.

Suddenly Willy stood before her, as she sat all too vulnerable before him. He knelt down and pried her legs open, and instinctually she kicked.

“I have a gun! I’ll shoot you in the spine, bitch! If you hit or kick or bite me one more time, I will snap your neck.” He turned to Lili, “You may want to gag her.”

He pulled from his pocket an elegant but fat knife, which he twirled before her eyes. His right eye leered at her, angry beside its swollen right sibling.

“Tie her legs like this!” Willy commanded, a glazed look in his eye.

Then it dawned on Sarah sharply, like a shattering chandelier on the crown of her head. “NO! Please!” she eyed the knife. “God, No!”

“Like I said,” Willy repeated, “Gag her. When I come back downstairs, we’ll finish this. It’ll be the big one, Lili. This one will be important.”

Sarah felt her breathing become shallow, and her heart race faster than its running limits would have allowed. The knife slipped gracefully back in his pocket and she begged again, “Please, Willy. Don’t. I’m begging you! I’ll do anything!” This was degradation, she thought. Being forced to say such things.

“He already explained things to me,” Lili chattered as Willy led the girls upstairs. “So I get the honor of playing bondage.”

“This isn’t bondage you batshit bitch! Please, let me go!” Sarah began to scream, in the pitch she knew to be her loudest. It was a pitch that demanded things in the past, and worked as a tactic. But today, a gag prevented that.

“Damn. I bet you’re a good singer, girl.”

Lili had already de-shrouded Sarah, leaving her exposed in her undershirt and jeans. She stood behind the chair, her forceful and feminine hands suddenly massaging Sarah’s shoulders. She ran her hands down Sarah’s side and slipped them into her pockets. The feel of nails against her thighs was oddly soothing and horribly unnerving. Lili was going for the phone. She pulled the box-shaped thing from the left pocket.

“Hello,,” Lili joked.

Sarah would have spit on her if she were not gagged with a dirty sock. The sock’s taste did not hint at hygienic use.

“Be right back, doll,” Lili leaned down, the resemblance to Amelia uncanny. She gently whispered in Sarah’s ear, “I’m gonna tell you a secret later, after all of this.”

Before leaving, Lili placed a chaste kiss on Sarah’s forehead and left the room, disappearing into the darkness of the hall.

For the longest period of her life, Sarah toiled to find a weakness in the bindings. Lili had not tied the chair exceedingly tight. If I could just close my legs! Just my legs. God.

She wished she had heeded Derryl’s cruel but true words. She wished she was goofing off with her boyfriend Julian, throwing tennis shoes over power lines and scaring cats with fireworks. She wished even that she was seated beside Amelia’s hospital bed, waiting in vain for her sister to open her blackened eyes.

As Willy and the girls reentered Sarah’s vision, it was apparent that they had recharged on whatever drug it was they were using. Willy managed a smile. Sarah closed her eyes and thought of strange things. That some ocean creatures could spill their insides. That birds find their way back to their flock. That Mary Magdalene was probably not a whore.

The minute Willy’s hand touched her thigh, Sarah could not remain aloof. She began squirming, cursing beneath her gag. Her rage grew with her fear, even as Willy unzipped her jeans.

“Willy, I don’t want you to go to jail,” Lili’s voice came from the den.

“Nobody will chase us for it, Lili. Don’t worry.”

“Actually, they will.”

The silence expanded from Lili to the whole house. Her green eyes were bloodshot, her eye shadow running. “The police are on their way. So, if you’re going to rape her you’d better be ready to fight in court.”

Willy placed his knife on the ground. He stood and stepped over to Lili. Fear was there in her face, but it was not the predominate expression. What was there, Sarah could not place.

Willy hit her with a ton of brute force and she went down. But she made no noise as she scrambled to her knees and peered up at him. “Can’t change it now. They’re on their way. They’ve been on their way for the past 15 minutes.”

The brute violence that Willy inflicted on Lili then was mind-numbing. Sarah cried out from behind her gag. Even one of the on looking girls yelled for him to stop kicking Lili in the stomach.

Lili rolled unto her back in defeat. She nearly laughed, but not quite. “I’m the one your friend saw at the police station the other day, not Amelia. You killed the wrong girl. Amelia still loved you.”

Willy brought his foot down on Lili’s face, spilling crimson down the porcelain white flesh.

“Are we in trouble, Willy?” Dawn asked.

Willy gave no answer, he simply drew out Sarah’s iron knuckles and brought them down on Lili’s face. Sarah could not see the details, but she could hear the damages, the repeated rhythmic blows to Lili’s face. However endless it seemed, it must have stopped, because now Willy’s hands were on her own face.

“Dawn, slit her throat!” he handed the knife over. “You need to stay here and finish the job! We’ll get you out of jail.”

“No! No! Willy, please!” Dawn took the handle obediently, but she was trembling. “Please don’t leave me! Do we really have to kill them!”

“You do, Dawn. Be a good girl and do it.” Willy seized the other two girl’s by their wrists and with that they were gone.

His sway over Dawn was eerie. She stood as though chained to the spot, knife in hand, staring at Sarah. She was weeping as she stepped forward, with a fatigued expression in her eye.

She’s done this kind of thing for him before, Sarah surmised.

She began to let her own tears fall, hoping to elicit pity from the female accomplice. The bleary-eyed girl wavered again.

“No!” she dropped the knife, “Willy! I don’t wanna go to jail!”

Of course, Willy had left, abandoning her here. She cried, fleeing the scene.

What had broken his sway over her, Sarah would not have time to contemplate. Now she sat bound to the kitchen chair, staring on the house’s other last inhabitant. Lili lay sprawled on the floor, her face turned mercilessly away from Sarah. They were the worst moments of her 15-year-old life.

Sarah trembled, but at least it was in the safety of a police car. The left door sat open, where the female officer stood to offer Sarah reassurance. She kept repeating that Sarah was going to be alright.

“Will Lili be alright?” she kept asking.

The only answer she ever received from the tired-looking cop was “She’s alive, honey.”

She had told them that everything in the house, from the bed sheets to Sarah’s sock gag would be drenched with Willy’s DNA. Furthermore, he most certainly had minors with him, whom he had sex with regularly.

“Sarah!” a harsh tone cried out through the mummer of the police force.

Derrick came staggering through the trees, frenzied and angry as always. Only this time he had his arms outstretched. Sarah ran to him, and buried her face in his shirt, to hide her deep sobs.

She could not speak for many hours after the police interview. As Derrick shook her leg, early November 2, she rolled over in bed. She didn’t ask why he was waking her at the crack of dawn, on a school day. She merely went to the restroom and stared for a long while at a candle she’d bought in early October. That had been so long ago.

She didn’t ask why Derrick took a turn into New Orleans, to navigate the cracking streets. She cared, but she hadn’t the energy to inquire. She merely watched the street trees go by until she felt nauseous.

Derrick parked near the hospital, took Sarah’s hand and led her to the garage elevators. She felt eleven years old again, walking with a teacher in a zoo. Only the zoo was a place where people went to die in relative comfort.

As they crossed a hallway, Nurse Bebone smiled their way. She complimented Sarah, “You look pretty today.”

She led Derrick and Sarah into the hospital room. “How are the peas, miss Hardgood.”

“Pretty good actually,” the patient answered in a monotone.

It took a moment for Sarah’s eyes to adjust to the image, of her sister’s battered face seeing her once again. One eye was swollen shut, perhaps permanently, but there was the large, healthy green one still moving, registering, living.

Neither spoke. Sarah embraced her sister so tightly that Amelia gasped. Amelia embraced her back, with a healthy amount of strength. The embrace was another of the longest moments in Sarah’s life.

“I thought you were dead,” Sarah sobbed.

“So did we,” the nurse chimed in.

Sarah clung tightly to her sister, refusing to let her go.
©2009-2011 Luz Briar.

2. Bury these chains

I am a prison…

Weights

Added to do damage

The kind without a measure

Not unlike this wretched mask.

Not mine

Help me pry it off and quickly

Before it melds into my skin

If you have time, my friend.

“It is not real,” we repeat it.

But the echo leaps about

Along the walls of the temple,

Smeared with blood and splintered timber

Cracked altar, stolen jewels

Nothing is sacred

All is ransacked

Slavery again, and we have

Our freedom robbed. Please,

Bury the chains…because they exist.

No blood

It is only a delusion

You will faint and ache

But it is a phantom pain.

‘Failure’

The echoes have no source so

We cannot muffle them

Simply ignore it.

“It is not real,” we will repeat it.

As it clangs between our ears.

Disregard the horror of your table

The shattered glass and damage, all fable.

The scrolled profanity

‘Abandon hope’

It is not there.

Look elsewhere.

You are not enslaved.

Then bury these chains! Bury these chains!

©2011 Luz Briar.

story- Earl Swan (6)-Epilogue

(PLEASE click response or comment if you have read, especially if you have read the whole story. I want to know your opinions or at least that you were reading.)
Final Part
-6-
Bri’s eyes landed on the bride where she stood chatting with the other women.
Her hand lifted from her side and she pointed at Des with great derision. Her laugh erupted and she screamed, “Witch! Liar! Unforgiving SLUT!”
All eyes were on Bri now and she seethed, “How could you! I will KILL you, Desdemona! If that is him, I will KILL you!” she gestured to the roasted bird.
Bri ran from the scene, tripping once on her skirts but jumping up swiftly. She scurried to the pond, quickly for it was downhill. The ornamented swans all swam away from her, save one. It wagged its tail and stepped out of the water, shaking itself off.
Bri recognized her earl swan and she gathered the animal into her arms. “Darling! Oh, I thought they had killed you! I’m so sorry.”
She made her way back toward the reception, with the swan in her arms.
Of course, there were no eyes that were not on her. She was still seething. “I thought you had cooked him, Desdemona. I am sorry I had an outburst.”
With that, there was uproarious and merry laughter.
“Poor dear,” a woman exclaimed. “She thought we were eating her pet!”
Though the crowd was ready to laugh it off as some terrible misunderstanding—for who had not wanted to call Desdemona those words before? -- Bri remained stoic, teeth bared.
Des approached her, pulled her close then and whispered in her ear, “A kiss will change him back, love.”
“What?”
“A true love’s kiss,” Des whispered. “I am giving you this one chance.”
The crowd was straining to hear the women’s words but Bri backed up, holding the swan.
“Right here? Right now?”
“Last chance,” Des offered, flipping her curled hair back.
Bri eyed the swan, which looked at her blankly. Poor Orion. If he died a bird Bri would never forgive herself.
Thinking of the short lifespan he would lead while caged in a bird’s form, Bri took the bird’s bill in her hand and kissed it lovingly.
There was a crushing silence on the crowd. Then, the voice of Bri’s former husband began to laugh and all joined in the uproar. Derision and jeering came from all direction and Bri turned her eyes to Des with fury.
“The bird is still a bird, and the slut still a slut,” Bri spat.
Des wore a cruel smile, but before she could have fun with her joke, a powerful but soft baritone silenced the crowd, “That is Quite enough!”
People made a clearing, and the tall mystery woman pushed forward in the crowd and seized Bri by the shoulders. She threw back her veil to reveal green eyes and Bri nearly fainted.
“M-m-m-my Lord!” she exclaimed. “You’re a lady!”
“Oh, yes…” Orion looked himself over, a convincing, albeit tall, woman. “I can explain the dress.”
“You look nice,” Bri offered, still hugging the bird.
“Thank you,” Orion curtseyed. He then turned his sharp eyes to Des, calling everyone’s attention to the flustered bride.
“This woman tried to have me killed! And apparently now she’s tormenting her own bridesmaid!”
Orion yanked off the wig of long blonde hair and revealed himself to everyone.
“Is that man wearing a DRESS!” one man shouted.
“I had to. I have been hunted for over two weeks now because Desdemona Parade has paid for my assassination.”
Des made a quick attempt for people’s pity, citing that the earl was mad. “Just look at him, he’s in a dress!”
The crowd had a second shock. Puli, the butler stepped forward and vouched for Lord Hookwell. “He’s telling the truth…” Puli stepped forward and offered himself as evidence, “I am ashamed of my original role.”
At Puli’s side, a lawman, dressed well for the occasion but still sporting his badge commanded everyone to remain calm while he took Desdemona into custody.
The other shady servants began to disappear one by one, sneaking off, adding to the suspicion. The crowd was soon spreading out, leaving Des unprotected/
The lawman took the bride by the arm and led her away, but not before she shot Bri one last look of real panic. Bri turned back to her swan and set him on the ground.
“My lord…I thought you were a swan. She…she told me my kiss would turn you back.”
“I was hiding until I could get to you. But, Brigid, you kissed a dirty pond bird for me?” he asked, massaging her ear.
She had already forgotten he was dressed as a woman.
“I would kiss 99 more dirty pond birds for you, muffin.”
“Ah, well…that won’t be necessary,” he promised, watching the loyal bird on the ground.
“I tried to contact you. But it was difficult. I came here today to talk to you in disguise…I was not going to reveal her until after you knew…”
Bri threw her arms around his neck without warning and forced their mouths together. Then many were watching the small woman kiss the tall man in a dress, but there was less to be said, for the same woman had already kissed a swan.
EPILOGUE
Bri sat across from the earl in the carriage.
They were going to town, nearly two hours after Desdemona’s wedding. Orion had reappeared after going into the Parade mansion and immerged a man again, all signs of lace and ribbons gone.
“I am still impressed, my lord,” Bri told him, “with how pretty you are as a woman.”
“Thank you, my dear. I had to be convincing.”
He had explained the course of events to Bri after things had simmered down at the estate. Desdemona was in the custody of the police for the night, being questioned about her underground connections. Her servants, all but Puli, had slinked off to avoid capture.
“They were probably once soldiers, we mustn’t judge them too harshly,” Orion explained, “Britain has not been so kind to them.”
The officer in the crowd had been aware of Orion and Puli’s presence, for they had gone to authorities first.
Bri was still processing it all when the earl asked her, “What about your friend?”
Bri blinked at him.
“The swan?” he laughed.
“We are only good friends, I promise.”
They shared a laugh before Orion took her to a coffee shop where they sat down to unwind.
“I noticed my notes rummaged through…” he spoke up in the silence.
Bri blew on her coffee to cool it and smiled. Her laugh came up and she shook her head, “I was delusional. I really believed you were a bird, my lord.”
“And you stayed in that awful woman’s presence to be near the bird.”
“She would not fire me.”
“If she had, though, what would you have done?”
“Taken Muffin with me.”
“So, you believed she was a witch and knew she felt malice for you? But you stayed.”
“Yes…yes, I suppose I was mad in more than one way.”
Orion was careful, reaching over to take Bri’s hand into his. “Ms. Salud, would you be my bookkeeper?”
Some of her anxiety drained when he asked this. He was offering her a job.
“You wish for me to work with you?”
“I have been working on a book for quite some time. I need help, though. I know I’ve told you about it, but not thoroughly. Are you interested, Ms. Salud?”
She wanted to laugh at the way he tried to ice over his true intentions. She had always expressed interest in his strange projects. This particular book would be a study on “paranormal sexuality,” much to everyone’s horror. But the earl was content on probing the dark spaces of mythology for answers that others seemed to avoid.
But Bri knew the real question he was asking. It was more than a bookkeeper he saw her as.
“I would be happy to be near you.” she grinned. “I feel at peace with you.”
He smiled then, and laughed, somewhat nervous. It was refreshing to see his composure break down. “I feel the same. I…” he looked about.
There were no eavesdroppers and the barista was busy in the back of the shop.
“I…have never met a woman like you before. You understand my meaning?”
She nodded. She understood, because she had no expectations of him and did not insult him when he did things differently.
“You do? You understand?”
She could feel his hand tremble a bit. He was sensitive and sometimes she forgot how much.
“I understand,” she whispered. “Many men want to be a lover, they want to love someone and woo them, to make them swoon and whatnot. You want to be loved. You want someone to woo you and make you swoon.”
He was quiet, only staring now.
Bri offered. “I understand, muffin. You don’t have to be nervous.”
As the barista reappeared, whistling to himself, Bri went to release Orion’s hand but his fingers remained firm, linked with hers. She smiled and offered her other hand so that they were equal.
Before nightfall, Orion took Bri back to Parade estate, where she packed many of her things. She did not own much but her clothing and book collection. But before she left the estate, she visited the pond and collected her favorite swan.
She and the earl waited by the pond and sure enough, a large male swan floated over to them and Bri outstretched her hands. He walked into her embrace and she lifted him.
“You think they will mind him on the train?” Bri asked.
“I’m sure they can be persuaded,” Orion reminded her.
She was not used to having an employer spend their wealth in her favor.
As they began to return to the carriage with the bird, they stopped when they heard the swish of many wings. They turned to see that the flock had risen and flew above their heads, creating a small wind in the process, pushing them forward. They paused for one moment more, watching the swans form a perfect V in the sky.
“Dazzling,” Orion mused.
Bri put one arm about his waist and held the animal in the other hand, and they continued walking, following the arrow the birds made in the sky.
© 2010,2011 Luz Briar.