Isle of the Faeries

An Unexpected Arrival

Kean

      I finish working Recent Discovery just as the sun begins to sink, in a year or two, once he matures a bit the colt will be shipping out to the mainlands to compete in the show jumping circuit. He has the stamina and mind of his father, Bedlam, and the sturdy build and flashy dappled coat of his mother, Discovering Magic, Allard's favorite broodmare. I have trained many of Allard's horses and I know when I am on a truly great horse and Disco is one of them, he has big shoes to fill now that Bedlam is gone. Dunkin leans against the rail watching as I loosen my reins and let him cool out, most of the other employees have fled for the night. The October nights close in fast.

      When I dismount Dunkin opens the gate for me, "He's a nice looking horse," he says.

      "Disco's one of Allard's best," I agree. We head for the training barn where Disco's stall is and I hook him to the cross ties, I untack and rub him down and settle him down for the night.

       Dunkin offers to help me with my night check so I send him to check in the sales barn and foal barn while I check the other three. The training barns are all set, the feed is set up for the morning and the horses are snuffling and munching on their night hay so I shut off the lights. The main barn is the biggest and I always leave it for last, it is where Allard keeps his very best, the ceilings are high and lofty and the architecture is a piece of art in itself.

      I make my way down the wide aisle stopping for a moment outside Bedlam's empty stall seeing his ripped up neck once again and his blood drenched coat. I shake my head and continue on, all the horses are quiet and sleepy until I get to Avi's stall. She stands in the middle of her stall head up, ears pricked, eyes wide, she sings out a high cry. I tap my iron rings against the bars of her stall to cut her off. I go on to the end, to Cinis's stall, he stands by the window, moonlight streams through the bars illuminating his pale coat, his eyes are bright without signs of sleep. I call him softly and his head swivels my way attentive and a low nicker rumbles from his throat.

      A rustling sound from the tack room catches my attention, the Brownie. I walk into the room quietly trying not to scare the little Sidhe; I flick on the dim light and glance around. The noise is actually coming from the grain room which is to my right; I grab the bottle of milk from the little fridge and the saucer to put out to keep the Brownie happy.

      Thomas Dunkin catches me putting out the little saucer of milk, "Is that for the cat?" he asks.

      "No," I shake my head and push saucer behind the grain bin where the Brownie likes it. I stand to walk into my office, one of the few luxuries my job allows, Thomas follows me. I put my tack away and glance at the paperwork on my desk, I scoop some of it up to bring with me, it's late and I want to head home.

      "So do you usually lose horses to the fairies?" Thomas asks leaning against the door frame to my office.

      I shake my head, "We haven't lost one in three years, and it is always human error that is the problem."

      "You're not afraid of the fairies then?" he asked his eyes floating over the white flag on the iron stick leaning against the wall, the jars of dried rowan and holly berries and the bell chains hanging from the coat rack.

      "No, I do not fear them." I shut off the lights and head for the door, locking it behind us. Thomas follows me through the barn and outside into the dark. I like Dunkin, he's smart, he's good with the horses and he is not scared of me like most of the staff who think I am in the league with the Fey.

      Outside there is a slight figure walking towards us with a bag slung over her shoulder. I cringe a bit internally, I know that walk and I had hoped that with the lure of the mainland I would never see it again. But luck is not on my side as she stops in front of me.

      "Kean," she says crossing her arms, "how long has it been since I saw you?"

     "A year and a half," I answer.

      "And who is this?" she asks appraising Dunkin.

      He beams at her, "Thomas Dunkin, and you are?"

      She holds out a hand for him to shake, "Marissa Allard," she turns her attention back to me, "Kean would you please take my bag, it was a long boat ride."

      "Why didn't your father pick you up?" I ask.

      "He doesn't exactly know I'm back yet," she holds out the bag knowing that I am in no position to refuse.

      I take the bag, it bites into my shoulder. I turn in the direction of Allard's mansion Marissa on my heels and Thomas Dunkin looking after us. Marissa quickens her pace to catch up with me, "Whoa speedy, aren't you happy to see me?"

      "No," I say without turning, we're almost at the massive house where she and her family live, it's a huge three story stone façade with big windows and French doors and balconies. Marvin Allard is old money and expects grandeur, but his big fancy house has nothing on the beauty of the island.

       "Come on Kean, you must have been bored without me, who else would entertain you?" she simpers. I feel my disgust for her rising as we mount the steps to the front door. She stops with her hand on the front door, I hand her her bag and turn to go. "Why don't you come in?" she asks biting her lip.

       I shake my head letting my disgust flit across my face before flipping up my collar and heading down the stairs and back the way I came. The last of the sun and Dunkin have gone and I'm later than I wanted to be heading home.

       At home Neve has the fire burning in the fire place and my plate of food on the table, the warmth of the fire feels good after the chill of the early October air but I know Neve will be annoyed that I am late for dinner. I hang my coat on the rack and leave my boots by the door and put the fresh milk in the fridge for her. There is roast beef and mashed potatoes on the table, its cooled since it was put on the table but I'm hungry so I sit down to eat it anyway.

       I'm almost done when Neve flits into the kitchen her tufts of her grey hair sticking up around her head and a duster in her hand, "Dinner is always at the same time yet you insist on being late."

      "Sorry," I say sheepishly, "the pot roast is good though."

      She puts her hands on her hips, "It'd be better hot."

       "I put some fresh milk in the fridge for you by the way," I tell her tipping my face towards my plate so she won't see my smirk.

       "Oh, I'll have to get a glass," she says her voice squeaky with delight as she flits to the fridge. She is always a bit of a mother hen but during the Tráth she gets particularly strict and peevish but usually milk will settle her nerves.

     But with Marissa back there isn't much that will settle my nerves tonight, that girl always brings trouble with her.