Chapter 39

Mark heard from Lenita the next day, when she called for the combination. She said she should know something by the end of the week, that they would receive their protective charms by the weekend, and that the spell Kristen needed for the baby had been sent, encrypted, to Aaron's email.

The spell turned out to be almost disappointingly simple. A couple of white candles and a promise was really all it was. Kristen performed it that evening with no visible effects, but he did notice a very faint, very vague feeling of relief in the air once she was done.

On Thursday evening, Mark received a package from Lenita. It contained four small cloth bags on leather cords, and a folder full of papers. The first page of the folder was a poem by Thomas Boyd, an Irish poet who died in the early 1900's, entitled "The Fairy Mistress", with a scrawled note from Lenita in the margin -- This is the best fit, so far. Read the enclosed documents, and take care. Somehow, Mark didn't think those last two words were just a polite close. The poem read, in part:

And would he, entering on the brimming flood, See caverns vast in height, And daimond columns, crowned with leaf and bud, Glow in long lanes of light.

And there the pearl of that great glittering shell Trembling, behold thee lone, Now weaving in slow dance an awful spell, Now still upon thy throne?

Thy beauty! ah, the eyes that pierce him thro' Then melt as in a dream; The voice that sings the mysteries of the blue And all that Be and Seem! Thy lovely motions answering to the rhyme That anceint Nature sings, That keeps the stars in cadence for all time, And echoes thro' all things!

Whether he sees thee thus, or in his dreams, Thy light makes all lights dim; An aching solitude from henceforth seems The world of men to him.

Thy luring song, above the sensuous roar, He follows with delight, Shutting behind him Life's last gloomy door, And fares into the Night.

Mark frowned, and read through the rest of the packet. The Leanan Sidhe, also called Fairy Mistress, or Fairy Sweetheart, did indeed have some resemblances to Kristen, but there was a dark, unpleasant theme to the legends. She was said to be a Celtic muse, possessed of unearthly beauty capable of generating unquenchable desire. Her victims -- as most of the papers described her lovers -- tended frequently to be artists, writers, or other creative men. They would fall under her spell immediately, and be completely unable to conceive of leaving her after that. In exchange for the loyalty, love, and lust she fed upon, she inspired genius in her lovers ... though for a very brief time.

There were a few notes, though, that suggested that the premature demise of her lovers came not from her draining them of life and spirit, but from the unbearable heartbreak or sorrow when she left, and maintained that the Leanan Sidhe herself was not a malicious being. While the lover typically considered her attentions a precious gift, they would quickly deteriorate into total self-destruction once she has left, and the author maintained that it was this that inspired the belief that she was evil and dangerous, with some even comparing her to a vampire that chose to use only one victim for a long period of time.

All of the papers agreed that she was radiantly beautiful, so beautiful, in fact, that all other women, in comparison, seemed lifeless and dull, but there was mention that, once she had chosen a lover, she might gain the ability to become invisible to all others.

Lenita had underlined bits here and there, and jotted little notes in the margin. Passages dealing with 'glowing' beauty, the unnatural lure of the Leanan Sidhe, about her 'feeding' from her lovers ... all of these she'd marked, noting the similarities to what she'd gathered from Aaron and Mark about Kristen. After reading through it all, Mark remained uncertain. He handed the packet to Kristen so that she could read it, too, and she did so, becoming more and more unsettled with each page. He sat beside her on the couch. "Love? What's wrong?" he asked.

She looked up at him, her green eyes wide and unhappy. "I ... these things kill their lovers, Mark. They use them up, it says. A ... a kind of vampire."

He shook his head. "Read more carefully. The bad stuff actually happens if their lovers leave them, or drive them away. Which is exactly what I'd expect from Kayla's description of a life-bond."

She wasn't convinced. "I don't know ... not all of those quotes have that bit. Just one page does, really. And look at this..." She shuffled through the papers to find the particular sheet she wanted, then handed it to him.

So the poet, living in an all encompassing yearning for his immortal lover, is inspired to great writings. This happens because the Leanan Sidhe has the power to make the creativity of an entire lifetime burn though the poet in a short time. Having taken her fill of his quickened life force, he then must go to an early death.

As a vampire, she uses this life force to keep herself beautiful and to weave her spells upon yet another mortal. Though seduction is deadly, it is nothing but Otherworld ecstasy for the human soul she feeds from.

As he read it again, she said, "And it's right. My looks come from the people I feed off of."

He shook his head. "I don't think so, love. I don't feel drained at all. If anything, I have more energy. And besides, this is a from a website, it says, so we don't know where the author got their info, even. And you'll note that none of these writers ever say that they met one of your kind themselves. For the most part, it's a description of a description. Like I said the other day -- I don't think you are feeding from us, I think that sex generates your energy. And remember how negatively sex has been viewed for the past too centuries, too. Anyone who inspired it must be evil, by those standards."

She sighed. "Maybe. So do you think I'm one of these ... these leaning fairies? I can't even pronounce the damned word!"

He caressed her cheek, smiling, then shrugged. "I don't know. It's possible, I suppose."

"But what do you think?" she asked. "Aaron's mother obviously thinks I am." She looked thoughtful, then added, "But she didn't tell him to stay away from me..."

"Well, honestly," Mark said, "it does seem to fit you fairly closely. It could be that's what you are, or you could just be something similar. Do you want to call and talk to her?"

She thought about it for a second, then shook her head. "No. I want to look it up myself first, and see what I can find. With a name to start with. If I am, though, then it seems to imply that I'll be able to make myself invisible, did you notice that?"

He nodded. "Yeah. That's ... interesting. It'd be useful, too. By the way, what are we getting Kayla for her birthday tomorrow?"

"Um. I have no idea? I kinda hoped you'd have something in mind."

"I'm not sure," he said. "Um."

"Um?" she asked.

"Well," he said, shrugging, "What do you think she'd like that we can get her without raising questions?"

"Hmm. Something that would give her an excuse to get out of the house would be good," she said. "Like ... um ... you could give her coupons to take her to the Natural Science Museum in Fort Worth, or things like that. It wouldn't look odd coming from a teacher to a promising, sure to win scholarships with a little encouragement, favorite student. Giving her an excuse to spend more weekends with us. Out of Prudence, too." She smiled shyly and reached for her sketchbook. "I'm going to get a frame and give her this."

He looked surprised. "You think I could get away with that?"

She nodded as she flipped through her portfolio. "Yep."

"I like that idea," he said. "I'll print some up tonight. Whatcha got there?"

She pulled out a large, 11X14 sheet. "Remember when you wanted me to draw Kayla?" she asked as she handed it to him. "What do you think?"

It was Kayla, but done as an elven warrior maid, chainmail bikini and all. Hair loose and flowing around her face, eyes sparkling with bloodthirsty glee. Sheer, violent beauty. A delicate female, reveling in massive bloodshed.