Once. Part 20

He had become used - more 'attuned' - to the sights around him, yet was still in wonder at it all as he and Jennet slowly, leisurely, made their way through the deepest part of the woods. He saw many more sights that made him gasp because of their beauty, and many more that caused him to laugh out loud in delight, although Jennet a.s.sured him there was still more that went unperceived by him.

'On the deepest night do you always see every star?' she had asked him.

'I suppose it isn't possible to catch every single one,' he had replied.

'But you have little machines which have their own special eyes to record such things.'

'You mean cameras?'

'Kamras. It has a nice, capable sound. Doesn't it reveal to you much more than when you use only your eyes? Doesn't such a machine reveal many, many other stars beyond your

own vision? But even so, this Kamras cannot capture them all. Yet the stars are still there, alive with their own energies, playing their part like everything else that exists on whatever plane or dimension.'

Yes, but it's a matter of distance, isn't it? Humans are only capable of seeing so far.'

'Precisely,' she had said.

There was a case early in this century where two little girls claimed to have photographed faeries. It was in a place called, er...' Thom racked his brain '... Cotting, Cottingley, I think. Before she died, as an old lady, one of them confessed it'd all been a hoax, they'd photographed paper cutouts of their own drawings.'

'And what do you think they based those drawings on.'

'Pictures from storybooks?'

Jennet shook her head. 'Memories,' she said.

Jennet had skipped lightly on to a fallen tree trunk and turned to face him. In answer to a question he had put, she replied: 'In the main, our function, or "purpose", as you put it, is to nurture nature itself. We are in the spirit of the woodland, the meadow, even in the gardens of humans. You'll find our essence in mountain ranges and in the wildest and deepest of oceans, in the hillside, or lake and pond. We are in the rain and in the rays of the sun. We are in the wind and fire. When people look at something that you have made with wood-'

She knew he was a carpenter?

-be it simple or complex, they are aware it's come together by your effort and design. Yet when they take in a

tree or plant, then they fail to see that this also has been accomplished by the work of others. Sun, seed and soil are our tools and our spirit stimulates the life.

'And when we work with humankind, itself, in the cultivation of crops and vegetation, in growing the perfect rose or finest corn, it's then that our mutual accomplishment is at its most glorious. But whereas Man always works from the outside, the faery works from the inside.

'Remember the flute uses the wind to play its notes, but it's the player who a.s.sembles those notes. A musical score is irrelevant without the musical instrument, and a musical instrument is nothing without the player.'

She had helped him cross a narrow but busy stream, steadying him as they used two small stepping stones to cross, and his whole body had tingled with her mere touch. In more ways than just the obvious she was unlike any other girl or woman he had ever known, her femininity mixed with mischievousness - she had deliberately unbalanced him on the second stone - her sensuality compounded by her sensitivity, her humour lightening her compa.s.sion for everything that lived and breathed.

On the opposite bank and as a flock of faeries had fluttered by, their tinkling laughter and light sing-song voices charging the air itself, he had asked about faery wings.

They're not wings at all,' she had informed him, 'and they certainly don't use them to fly: they can do that perfectly well without them. Many faeries, especially the smaller kind, are almost all essence, spirit if you like, and what you see, or at least, what you perceive, is their spirit slipstream. The more vibrant and colourful they are, then the more vital and lively is that spirit.'

'But some are well defined and even disturb the leaves or blades of gra.s.s as they pa.s.s,' Thom protested.

'Of course!' She giggled at him. That's how potent the vibration of their essence is.'

'What about food or drink?' Thom had enquired. 'So far I haven't noticed any of you eating or drinking.

So what is your diet - berries, wild fruits?'

Again, a small giggle. 'No, we don't need to sustain ourselves that way unless we take on human form, although we might sip water occasionally. Oh, and some of the pixies are fond of your ale when they can.o.btain it. We bathe in the rays of the sun to draw its energy, and we frequently take magnetic baths, absorbing the power of the earth itself. But mostly our nourishment is in the air we breathe, the smells we smell and the sounds we hear. Our power is derived from everything around us.'

Her small face suddenly became grave.

'But you humans are slowly spoiling that for us, poisoning the air and vegetation with your pollution and unnatural chemicals. Why do you think we keep more and more to ourselves, why we hide from you? It wasn't always like this.'

'I...' Thom had no idea what to say, had no excuse to make. How did you excuse the whole human race? Pleading ignorance wasn't an acceptable defence.

She touched his lips with two fingers to silence him. 'It's not your fault alone. But it's why we keep to the hidden places, why the secret territories unblemished by your kind are so important to our existence.

We cannot survive in a tainted environment.'

Then, with the same two fingers she briskly tapped his nose.

'Besides,' she said, skipping away from him, 'you humans stink!'

248.

He quickly caught up with her.

'I still don't get it. Where do you come from? Are you born, like us? And do you die, like us?'

'It's not quite like birth, Thom. We slowly emerge, we gradually become what we are. And rather than die, we return to a more subtle form of being, one that can only be revealed to humans when they, themselves, leave the Me they know.'

'Do - can - others see you as I do?'

'Only a very few. Humans will have to change their ways and realize that the planet does not belong to them alone before the acceptance begins.'

She touched his upper arm beneath the short sleeve of his T-shirt and again he gave a little shiver.

'It's our hope that some day human consciousness will be elevated enough for them to first understand and then, when all is well, discern our presence. But if it should happen, it will be far ahead in your future.

You have to learn so much and forget so much. You will be helped, Thom, I can promise you that.'

They had reached another smaller, shaded glade, one where beams of sunlight filtered through the leafy canopy overhead and whose dense smell of tree bark and vegetation was so powerful it seemed to sink into Thom's skin. He watched tiny lights, bright in the shadows, leave sparkly trails behind as they flitted in and out of the undergrowth. He and Jennet sat on the soft carpet of crushed leaves, Jennet with her knees raised, hands clasped together over them, chin on her thumbs, while Thom reclined before her, his weight resting on an elbow, his body stretched out. Tell me-' his words were hesitant'-is there ... d'you know if... if there's a G.o.d?'

'Of course. We call many things G.o.d.'

'No. I mean, is there one true G.o.d?'

'Oh, the Creator Being. It's a mystery, isn't it?' 'You don't know?' Somehow he was disappointed; he had expected more.

'Yes, silly. I know G.o.d exists. But none of us have ever met the one we call the Creator Being, the Great Magician, and I'm very sure that none of you humans have either.' Well then, how can you be so certain He exists?' Thom, I am from the essence of everything. I am in the spirit of nature, itself, and I exist in the dimension between Me as you know it and the one you're bound for. That means that at the moment I'm closer to the Creator Being than you and closer than some of your kind will ever be. So I know there is a one true G.o.d because...' she slowed the words for emphasis '... it... is ... so.'

'Do you know what happened to me last night?'

Incredibly, Thom had been able to dispatch the horrors of the previous night to a quiet corner of his mind, the wonders of the morning stroll into the depths of the forest almost overwhelming the worrying memory.

"Yes, Thom. The h.e.l.lhagge sent the Night Thief to steal your seminal fluid.'

'My...? The elf...'

'Rigwit.'

'... said it was my fertility.'

'It came for your seed, that most intimate part of you. It was as if it was taking part of your soul.'

'But why? Rigwit couldn't tell me.'

'Because we don't know. All we can understand is that you're a danger to her.'

'I hardly know Nell Quick and I certainly wouldn't harm her.'

'Nevertheless, she wants your seed to help her sorcery. Such acquisition would be extremely powerful.'

'I don't get it. No way am I a threat to her.'

*You might be in the future and she's aware of this.'

Confused, bewildered - it was fast becoming a regular state for Thom. 'I wanted the elf to explain more to me, but, I don't know, I guess I was just exhausted. I fell asleep.'

'He knew you needed rest more than anything else right then. It gave your mind time to a.s.similate.'

'He made me sleep?'

'He helped the process. As you, yourself, said: you were exhausted. You might easily have become traumatized.'

'Believe me, I was already.'

Which is why your mind and body needed to rest.'

There was silence between them for awhile, Thom brooding, Jennet watching him with both interest and concern.

Eventually: 'Why didn't you appear with the other faeries? I needed all the help I could get.'

'I cannot use the Book for entry. I can only enter by physical means and that wasn't possible last night.

I would never have reached you in time.'

He digested this for a moment.

'I want you to tell me more about Bethan, Jennet. And my father. I want to - I need to - know more.'

She rose to her bare feet, a graceful movement, almost as if gravity meant very little to her. The diaphanous dress she wore was caught by a slight breeze so that it ruffled around her slender legs; that same breeze disturbed her bright golden hair, a curled lock tickling her cheek, delicate, fingers brushing it away.

'A little while longer, Thom. You've already had to learn so much.'

Soon they had reached the lake and the sight of it took Thom by surprise, for they had journeyed through unfamiliar

parts to reach a destination he knew - or thought he knew -so well. He first glimpsed it through the dense trees, burning white behind their silhouettes, and when he and Jennet finally broke free of the forest to stand on its irregular gra.s.sy sh.o.r.eline, he saw a million tiny glitters like daylight stars around its edges.

He could not remember the phenomenon from his childhood days.

He knelt to examine the shiny speckles closest to him and reached for one particular object that shone diamond-like. It was a jagged and many-faceted stone, sharp to the touch and coloured silvery-white, with the palest of blues and pinks tincturing its angles.

'Coral,' Jennet answered to the question he was about to ask. 'Four hundred million of your years ago this place was a great barrier reef. If you dig just below the soil you'll also find seash.e.l.ls, and the bones of ancient sea creatures.' He shook his head again in wonder. *Why didn't I see this before? I used to come here all the time when I was a boy.'

'It's only today that you're beginning to see clearly again.'

Thom dropped the piece of skeletal rock and gazed across the lake's calm mirror surface. It was abruptly disturbed by a swooping heron, which dipped its beak into the water while still in flight to s.n.a.t.c.h an unwary fish. The big bird rose majestically, its body seeming too heavy for its wings, and the ripples its theft had caused spread outwards in ever-expanding waves towards the sh.o.r.eline.

But if Thom expected those gentle tidal waves to fade, he was wrong, for not only did the growing circles become heavier, but they were joined by others all over that part of the lake as though something below had also been disturbed.

They first appeared singly, and then in groups of three or four, and they sang as they rose, beautiful siren songs that both enchanted and terrified Thom.

WHAT KATY DID.

NELL HAD led Katy up to Thom's bedroom. A. l The therapist had protested at first, but weakly, no commitment behind the protestation, for already they had kissed each other's lips, already Nell's fingers had lightly played around Katy's erect nipples before moving sedately, smoothly on to the nape of her neck, then down along her spine, fingertips soft, without pressure, their unimposing touch sending shivers through the therapist's body, resting at the elastic band of her tracksuit trousers so that she had wanted to implore Nell to move inside, to touch the dampness between her legs, but she had been too shy, too ashamed to voice her urges.

The first kiss had not even been tentative. The grin on Nell's face had frightened Katy, yet its scarlet slash was all the more alluring because of the fear, for it heightened the tension, the strangeness of the act exciting her senses almost to breaking point. What had happened to her? Katy wondered. Why was she feeling this way, all common sense

abandoned, this sudden proclivity too intense, too fierce, to be denied? Her own lips had pushed hard against the other woman's without hesitation, although certainly with trepidation, but even this emotion served to increase the arousal. And her mouth had opened willingly, inviting Nell's intrusion, perhaps insisting upon it, and the tongue had entered with relish, meeting her own, tips curling against each other's, their juices mingling.