He wears clothing more patchwork than uniform in its look, and all of it badly worn. His long, slender feet are bare, and they each appear to have more than five toes—a momentary impression—but I do not want to be caught staring and so cannot be sure. He never stops looking at me as he slows and stops, still several feet away. Perhaps, I think, he is afraid he might scare me and is cautious about offering greetings.
I am wrong, I realize an instant later. My green rescuer is taking this time to look me over. I am emboldened enough then to do the same with him.
A few long moments pass while we just look at each other.
“Thank you for saving me,” I say finally.
He gives me a nod. “You are a Human.”
I am a bit put off by this. “Yes, and you are not.”
“I am Fae.”
“And I’m Auris.”
More staring. “That isn’t my name,” he corrects. “Fae is what I am. I am one of the Faerie Folk.”
Now I am just plain embarrassed. I nod stupidly. “I didn’t understand. I don’t know any Faerie Folk.”
This sounds equally stupid, but I press on. “How do you know what I am?”
He regards me the way a naturalist might an intriguing bug. “I have encountered Humans before.”
“Where? Here? Outside the Goblin prisons?”
“Yes. Their clothing told me that was where they had come from, but they all died soon after I found them.”
I don’t want to know how or why. I don’t want to hear anything more about it. “What happened just now?” I ask, still confused about why my pursuers turned back. “Those Goblins just looked at you and gave up the chase. Why would they do that?”
He considers. “They are afraid of me. I would have stopped them.”
“How would you have managed that? They have weapons. They are killers.”
“They know me. And they know I have this.”
He holds out the length of wood he is carrying—which is not a spear at all, but an intricately carved staff marked by black and gray striations with splashes of red all through it. When I bend closer to peer at it, he offers it to me. Hesitantly, I take it from him to examine. I turn it over and over in my hands, marveling at the smooth, warm surface, the rich texture, and the unexpected heaviness.
“Why are they afraid of this?” I ask. “What does it do?”
“It channels my inish and uses it to protect me. It is a very powerful magic, and they know better than to risk testing it further.”
He reaches for it and I hand it back. His claims about what this staff can do seem exaggerated; to me, it seems only a beautifully shaped length of wood. Still, I don’t press the matter. I am growing comfortable with him, both with being close and with conversing. He does not seem to mean me any harm and has done nothing to frighten me. I don’t want to do anything to change that.
“How come you can speak my language?” I ask before I can muzzle myself, my need to know more about him overpowering both caution and manners.
“I speak every language.”
“Every language? No one does that.”
“The Fae do. They have the ability to understand any language spoken to them.” He pauses, giving me a closer look. “You really haven’t met one of us before? Not even once? Not anywhere?”
I shake my head. “I lived somewhere else, far away. I don’t remember where, though I wish I could. I was taken by the Goblins and brought to their prison several years ago. I never met anyone who wasn’t Human before that.”
“Which prison did you come from? What was it called?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember.”
“How did you get here, then? You were in the prison? But you left?”
It’s cute the way he says it, so perfectly serious. His way of expressing himself is almost quaint. I tell him an abbreviated version of my escape with the other fourteen kids and what befell us. I keep it deliberately short, because I do not wish to dwell on it. And in spite of his reassurances that he has scared the Goblins away, I am dubious. How long before they return with reinforcements? I have no intention of being taken prisoner ever again.
I end with a brief sketch of my journey through the wastelands, coming upon him just when I am at the end of my rope, with my pursuers nipping at my heels. But keeping my story short does not help assuage the pain. Remembering how the lives of my friends were snuffed out so swiftly and violently makes me sick to my stomach, and I wish nothing more than to put the trek across the wastelands into the dustbin along with the rest of my memories. Instead I must focus on what lies ahead, hoping that my future will justify my rescue and that my existence from here forward will improve—though I know this is a way of seeking penance, of a sort, for living when the others did not.
“You have come through so much,” he says. “You are a very strong woman, Auris.”
Strong? I shake my head dismissively. “No, I’m not. I’m just lucky. Lucky to escape the Goblins, and lucky to find you—just plain lucky all the way around. The others would be here with me if their own luck hadn’t deserted them.”
“You are too quick to dismiss what you have done. We are not given the power to choose our fate. Fate always decides for us in the end, though we can choose the direction and make the journey. We do as much for ourselves as we can. Sometimes it is enough; sometimes it isn’t. But we must try; it is in the nature of our character to always try.”
I stare at him, thinking through what he says. Then I run my fingers through my tangled, filthy hair and shrug. “Maybe.” I give him a look. “Will you tell me your name?”
A request, not a demand. I sense this is how things are done if you are Fae. He smiles anew. “Harrow.”
“A Fae name?”
“A Forest Sylvan name. I am one of a particular type of Fae. The Fae are a large population of many different kinds.” He pauses. “I can tell you more later, but we should go now.”
I feel a little of the tension drain out of me. I am more than ready. “Where are we going?”
“Away from here. Your captors may choose to come back for you, so this is not a good place to linger.”
“You live somewhere else?”
He nods and points to the huge body of water behind him. “Across Roughlin Wake. In the forests of Viridian Deep.”
I glance at the lake and shake my head. “It looks big enough to be an ocean.”
“An ocean might be a bit much for just the two of us to cross. There is an ocean farther south called Blue Forever, but we don’t have to worry about crossing that.”