Fairy Tale: Winter's Bite

Chapter 17: Mutual Understanding (Part 3)

Chris slipped outside and strode from the hut with no destination in mind. Soon though, he felt a pull. His father had been born in Nova Scotia and had settled in Salem, Massachusetts, and worked as a fisherman.

What did Chris have in common with his father other than appearance? Not much, he believed, except a love for the water. Chris had been practically born with gills.

He kicked off his doll-size sandals, ones he constructed himself out of string and recyclable material, and stepped into the lagoon he had spotted earlier. It was a water-loving fairy's nirvana. The cool, clear pool rippled rhythmically as the cascade plunged into it.

Paradise even had a scent. The pink wildflowers nearby seemed to consume the direct morning sunlight, and, in return, they filled the humid air with their praises.

Even knee-deep, the water was wearing away the sharp edges of his mood. He was about to take his shirt off and dive under when he heard a voice.

"Are you going to be all right?"

Cassie's concern was even more soothing than the water was. And only a few minutes ago, she had instilled fear in the hearts of the haughty and powerful. The discrepancy was enough to tie his tongue and confuse his male pea brain.

"I'll make it," he replied.

To avoid looking at her—worried she could actually read his thoughts—he waded in deeper. But out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her toes on the bank, carefully positioned just before the waterline. "Do you not like the water?" He turned around completely and took it all in—her, her stance, her fear. It wasn't a wade, it was a full jump in, all forbearance gone in one epic splash.

Cassie's head popped up. "No, it's beautiful. I could stand here and watch the waterfall all day. I would rather not be submerged in it, however."

For her, water was the bad guy? Then he understood. To a cave-dwelling fairy from the far north, deep water was probably linked to paralysis and a sure death.

He recalled, though, how enchanted Cassie had been just the day before at her first sight of the ocean. She had probably never gone swimming in her entire life. Perhaps she had a longing for fun and leisure, a chance to enjoy youth and some normalcy for a change. But for her, especially, it wasn't ever within her reach, not without help.

He stepped closer to her. "It's not that deep here, and the slope is gradual. And besides, I've already scanned the area for swamp monsters."

Cassie stumbled backward, the color draining from her face. "Swa-swamp monsters?"

Chris muffled an outburst of laughter. "That was a joke."

"You may want to laugh at my expense, I see. Unlike you, I grew up believing in fantastical creatures because I am one. On the contrary, I feel it's safe to say that you didn't even believe in fairies eight days ago."

"Eight days. Is that all it's been?" He had to laugh. The alternative would have been a downright mess. "That's true, I guess. Anything is possible, so I should watch my step. But if you'd like to take your chances and join me. . ."

He offered his hand to her.

Cassie's shaky arm lifted. She held it underneath her chin. The conflict was real. Her dread was tangible.

Before she could make a decision, Chris's jaw clenched and his spine tightened, almost beyond his control. His arm lost its fortitude . . . to help, that is, and it drifted back to his side.

Cassie must have noticed this abrupt shift because her head snapped toward the reason.

Scott joined them by the water's edge. Chris crossed his arms and turned his back. His attention returned to the silt underneath his feet.