The shadows faded gradually, but the shock that followed didn't wait for me to take everything in.
Rachel's jeep remained where it had been parked, but at my feet, a cobblestone path had been set into the concrete floor, winding vaguely onward through the center of the building. The lower walls had been bricked with stone except where they encountered the windows, which were framed in black metal, a decorative filigree replacing the simple iron mesh they'd worn the day before.
There was green everywhere I looked. Leaves, vines, and flowers spilled over long, carved window boxes and burst out of huge, clay pots. The girders above were covered in clinging ivy, while flowers bloomed cheerfully in a kaleidoscope of hues from planters on every side. Several large stones had been artfully staged to accent the landscape.
Steel girders, posts, joists, and trusses had either been cleaned or replaced and painted a cool, unassuming gray that seemed to vanish against the vivid colors around them. Any remaining hints of corrosion spoke of antiquity rather than decay.
To my right stood a new, low structure made from rough wood and stone resembling a mountain chalet. Glass doors were flanked by lamps that hung from iron hooks set into the wall above low hedges that grew straight out of the floor. Directly across the path, the makeshift cabins had been replaced by half a dozen tiny, fanciful houses, each unique in color and design.
"It looks like a little village," I breathed, still frozen in wonder.
Finn smirked with satisfaction. "We were going for homey. I take it you're happy with the result?"
I couldn't think of an adequate answer, but managed a few more aimless steps down the cobbled road. The formless, concrete and steel warehouse had been transformed into something out of a storybook. Something alive.
"Is that a kitchen?" I asked, peering into the distance.
"And a common space to park your ass. Living room, siting room, whatever. We even hooked you up with a telly. I didn't want to spoil the open feel by walling them off into actual rooms, though a few partitions were unavoidable. There's no dining table, but you'll all fit around the bar."
"I'm just... I don't know what to say."
"You can start with 'thanks.'"
I looked down and found a wide smile that was more kind than playful. "Thank you, Finn." I'd expected a few basic accommodations, but the Fae had worked miracles. She acknowledged my gratitude with a fraction of the pride the accomplishment deserved.
"Before your friends get here," she said, "I was hoping to ask you for a favor."
"Me?" I couldn't think what I had that she'd possibly want. "Sure. Anything."
She turned her back on me and called out words that weren't remotely English. A moment of silence followed, then a rustling of movement from everywhere at once. "Stay calm," Finn said from the corner of her mouth, "and don't touch anyone."
Dozens of figures stepped into the ambient light from diverse hiding places among the buildings and new growth, revealing a collection of beings that strained the imagination. Without giving me time to adjust, Finn barked another strange word and a huge figure, twice my height and nearly as wide as it was tall, lurched toward me in slow, powerful strides, demanding my attention with a deep groaning that seemed to come from beneath the ground.
"Tom, I'd like you to meet Julius. He helps with the heavy lifting."
I stared blankly as it towered over me with its broad, boulder-like chest and arms thicker than my torso. "H—hi," I managed, and it followed with another guttural moan. I felt a deep, primal need to be as polite as humanly possible, but its skin was so thickly textured, like tree bark, that it obscured the features of its face and I wasn't sure where to look.
"He says he's pleased to meet you," Finn interpreted, "but he can't stick around. If your gifts send him into a rage he'll undo everything we accomplished here last night."
Julius groaned at her and Finn shrugged, "Don't worry about it," she told him, "just leave it hanging there and we can get it working next time." The creature turned and strode ponderously toward the door.
"Next time?" I asked.
"You didn't think we could do everything in a day, did you?"
I stared stupidly until I recalled that I'd heard the massive Fae's name before. "He was at the clearing."
"He made the clearing, but we rushed him back here to help with this."
Two more creatures came forward, and it took me a few seconds to register their size after meeting Julius. Each was eight or nine feet tall with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and disproportionately huge hands and feet. They had shiny, blue skin, their eyes were set wide, and their mouths nearly split their heads in two. My brain, in a desperate attempt to find something familiar, suggested they looked like giant tree frogs, though that fell far short. Finn introduced them as "the twins," and they ambled past without a sound.
A pretty girl with black hair and pale skin pushed past the next in line and nodded a reluctant greeting without quite looking at me. It was Meg, the woman from the campsite. "Sorry for interrupting," she said to Finn, "but some of the sigils are acting up below the waterline and It'll take a couple hours to correct them."
Finn grimaced. "Shit. Okay, do what you have to do. Will you need a ride?"
"No," the girl said simply and stepped back, sparing me a glance before turning away.
"I get the feeling she doesn't like me," I whispered while three men came forward. They seemed to be human, apart from their hairless, brown skin and pointed ears. They spoke English but with accents that could have been German. All three seemed bafflingly starstruck.
"Don't worry about Meg," Finn said after dismissing them. "She's just shy around new people."
A new voice, high and thin, barked a laugh somewhere near the floor, making me jump. "Meg is as shy as an avalanche," it said, and I spun around trying to find its source.
"You should talk," Finn sighed, clearly annoyed for the first time since I'd met her. "You were supposed to wait with the others."
"Fire me," It answered smugly. "You said we could meet him."
"I did, and you will, but if Corvus loses his shit because you held up the line, you're cleaning up the mess."
"Ugh, fine!" the voice said. I finally caught movement out of the corner of my eye and turned in time to see a tiny figure jump silently onto the hood of Rachel's Jeep. The voice belonged to a woman who stood no more than eighteen inches tall, with a body and limbs that were too long and too thin, as if she'd been stretched out.
"Eyes front, Tom," Finn muttered, turning her irritation toward me. I met another man, short and stocky, that reminded me of Finn's driver, except he had black hair, a long, shaggy beard and spoke with a thick, Texan drawl. After him, half a dozen others who resembled space aliens from a low-budget film, complete with green skin and enormous, black eyes.
"That's it for the dangerous ones," Finn said after they left, then directed a group of female Fae to approach all at once. There were fifteen or twenty of them and each was unique. One had antlers like a young deer. Another stood tall and willowy with pale brown skin, glowing green eyes, and not a stitch of clothing, which nobody but me seemed to notice. Others could have passed for human, and Finn presented them as different varieties of nymph. As each was introduced by name, they left through the opening behind us.
"That just leaves the brunaidh," Finn said, then called out, "You may as well show yourselves. We're not going to get through all of you one at a time."
Slowly, timidly, dozens of tiny faces peeked around walls, through windows, from behind pillars and among potted plants. At first, I thought they were all like the little woman sitting on the Jeep, but it became clear that there were few similarities between them. Some were bigger, some smaller, some looked like twigs, others like gray-skinned garden gnomes. Some had long ears that stood up, some hung down. Some were shaggy, some hairless, and a few had the wings of butterflies, or dragonflies. At least one was feathered like a bird.
"Most of the work was done by this lot," Finn said casually. "They've a talent for building and repairs. Most of them, anyway." She shot a glance at the girl sitting on the Jeep.
"I can build just fine," she answered, "I'm just better at other things."
"Like breaking faith with your chief!" a thin, gravelly voice bellowed and one of the little men forced his way through the crowd and stepped toward us. Like the woman, he seemed stretched, but was rounder in the middle, sported a short, plaited beard, and had his hair twisted up in a man-bun. "You were told to remain behind!" A murmur passed through the diminutive horde.
"Not now, Grimble," Finn admonished, which seemed to enrage the little hipster.
"You aren't a hob," he growled at her. "You don't command my clan."
"Someone should," The one on the Jeep jeered. He puffed out his chest and rose up on his toes, obviously trying to look intimidating, but it had little effect. I glanced at Finn. She seemed torn between laughing and kicking them both across the room.
"Do you know what this," he gestured roughly toward me with both hands, searching for words, "is capable of? Who knows if you haven't already been contaminated? You're putting the entire family at risk!"
"The only risk to the family is your fat ass."
"Don't cross me, Amilindis," Grimble scolded in a voice too loud and low for his size.
"Or what? You'll ask me to mate with you again?"
Grimble recoiled slightly and cast his eyes around at the other brownies. A handful of chuckles echoed out of the crowd.
"You keep your lying mouth shut!" he turned back and took a threatening step toward her.
"Alright, you two, I've had more than enough," Finn broke in finally.
"Don't tell me—" he began, but Finn dropped to one knee and looked him menacingly in the eye.
"I don't rule your people, Grim, but you still work for me and I set those terms. Now are you going to listen, or do you want to see how long you can continue to bully your clan without a patron?"
He clenched his teeth, jaw working to bite back the response he wanted to give, but in the end he turned sharply on his heel and stalked out of sight to a few anonymous giggles and titters.
"Coward!" the one called Amilindis called after him.
"He's right about one thing, Amy," Finn stood and pointed a finger at her. "You have a big mouth. Shut it, or you'll be on the cleaning crew for the next month."
"You wouldn't dare! You need me!"
"I'll hire an IT firm if I get desperate. Test me if you think I'm bluffing." The two stared each other down and Amy held out a little longer than Grimble, but as before, the smaller one looked away first.
"Fine," she said in a petulant tone, then sat back down and wrapped her arms around herself.
Finn led me forward to introduce the seven clans that made up the bulk of her construction crew. They gathered in front of me in groups of ten to twenty, then departed as a unit until we were alone except for Amilindis.
"Those were all brownies?" I asked, watching the last of them go. "They're all so different."
"Brunaidh is a blanket term, like phoukha. Remember Chloris?"
I nodded. "The one who took care of the warehouse before we got here."
"The bhean tighe are quite a bit bigger, but distantly related to the ones you met today. Most of them, like hobs," she indicated the girl on the Jeep, "grogochs, and sylphs are organized into clans, but a few are more solitary, like gnomes and leprechauns."
"Some of us wouldn't mind a little more solitude," Amy's tiny soprano cut in and Finn closed her eyes as if praying for patience.
"Sylphs are the best gardeners, grogs are good at organizing and cleaning, and none are better than hobs at construction."
"And some of us are amazingly gifted with tech." Amy chimed in. "Oh wait, that's just me."
"I had to hire a freak to meet my diversity quota," Finn sneered, but her frustration was quickly giving way to humor.
"You mean that in a nice way."
Finn acknowledged her impatiently with a wave of her hand. "This little turd grew up without a clan, so she's not typical of her kind. Instead of wood and stone, she fiddles with computers and electronics. That's extremely rare among the Fae, and she never lets me forget it."
"Why?" I asked. "I mean, with trillions of worlds out there some of them must have advanced technology."
"Sure they do," Amy answered before Finn could. "But technology works within the laws of the universe that developed it. Change the laws of physics and your world-dominating death ray is just an expensive toy."
"The Fae have plenty of scientists, Tom," Finn added. "And many of them do study the natural world, but when school kids know more about a subject you spent your life studying, it's a lot easier to reapply all that intelligence toward what you would consider magic. That's the economy of the Fae, and it's been that way for millennia."
I took a moment to digest that information. It stood to reason that the mysteries of an entirely new reality would look like unfathomable miracles, and if the rules that governed molecular bonds were altered even a little, my years of biochemistry would be as useful to me as a bedtime story.
"Right, so..." Amy interrupted the silence, "Since Meg's going to be around for a while anyway, do I have time to run a diagnostic? As soon as the security system came online we started getting latency spikes in the network."
"It's probably the ignis," Finn sighed. "Go ahead."
Amy saluted playfully and jumped back to the floor. "It was good to meet you, Tom. I've never met a darkling before. You don't seem so bad."
"A what?" I asked, but Finn jumped in and cut off Amy's response.
"Get to work if you want a ride out of here. You can bet Grim isn't going to wait." Amy chuckled with a wave and scampered off, vanishing quickly into the shadows.
"What's a darkling?" I pressed, and Finn responded with a sigh.
"It's a slang term for chthonian, the denizens of the chaos realms, yadda yadda. Long story. Part of your security is keeping your heritage secret, but I trust my crew and they needed to know what we were accommodating."
"Is that why everyone wanted to meet me? Because I'm... like the bogeyman or something?"
"Sort of," she chuckled. "People like you are somewhat notorious among the Fae, especially to solitaries and renegades. It's like meeting a real live pirate. The idea is romantic, even though what they're famous for isn't."
It didn't sound any better when she put it that way. "How can I be notorious when I haven't done anything?"
"It's not you as much as what they think you're capable of."
"Next to people who can pull off something like this," I said, looking around, "I'm pretty boring."
"I'll take that as a compliment." Finn bowed low, eyes twinkling.
For the next few minutes she explained how our utilities were hacked into the city grid so we wouldn't be charged for the electricity or water we used. After waiting for me to show appropriate gratitude, she gave me a quick tour.
The open kitchen contained a huge pantry, a commercial refrigerator, a wide, gas stove with a built-in griddle, two ovens, more cupboard space than we could ever fill, and long counters topped with white marble. The bar was broad and long and served as a prep table and a dining surface complete with high wooden stools. It also separated the cooking area from the living room.
The phrase, "living room," hardly did it justice. Two pillowy sofas and a selection of plush armchairs had been positioned around a vast, square coffee table, and the largest television I'd ever seen had been mounted high on the wall with theater curtains hung on either side. The whole thing was accentuated with area rugs, artfully placed planters, and accent tables to set the space apart without the need for walls.
"The main building's climate is self-regulating and should hover around seventy-six degrees." Finn explained, guiding me back toward the door. "If you need a change, there's heating and air in each of the rooms. Even with a whole clan dedicated to HVAC and another on plumbing, we had to set a few limits to finish on time."
"What about up there?" I asked, pointing to the former office. It remained perched among the rafters, but other than a much-needed coat of paint and a few clinging vines, I couldn't tell that it had changed much.
"I wouldn't want to ruin all the surprises," she said with a wink. "The others will arrive any minute now, and you can explore the rest with them." As we stepped outside we were greeted by the sound of wheels on gravel, and the white van rolled up moments later.
The girls were beside themselves with ecstasy over Finn's renovations, and even Rachel gave an uncharacteristically girlish squeal when she saw what had been done to the abandoned building. They said their thanks and goodbyes as Finn climbed into the back of the van, and Miss Gold nodded a farewell through the passenger window. Then they drove off, leaving the four of us, for the first time, on our own.
***
The girls chose cottages for themselves, which were roomier than they appeared from the outside. Katherine's was on the end nearest the kitchen, and had been painted a faded yellow with violet and orange accents. Rachel's was simpler, mostly dark blue and white, and Becca's, a pale lavender with pink and green trim. Five more houses completed the row, and I couldn't shake the feeling that they were built in expectation of future additions. The most remarkable thing about them didn't sink in until later. Everything, from the doors to the furniture, had been masterfully, intricately, crafted by hand.
While my companions were busy, I turned my attention to the building opposite them. It was bigger than the upstairs office, maybe fifty feet long and more than twenty deep, furnished with a bench and a long, low table that I could see from outside. The transparent doors clicked as I approached and swung open easily, revealing a stone-tiled floor and wood paneled walls. A series of vanity counters held sinks and mirrors, and four doors on the right led to individual bathrooms with cupboards for personal items. On the back wall, beyond a stack of empty shelves, was another door, sealed off with construction tape.
The fourth wall was curious and a little concerning. Rather than wood paneling, it had been made from sparkling glass, like a floor-to-ceiling window display, and a sliding glass door provided another exit, giving me a clear, unrestricted view of our new living room.
"The hell is this?" Rachel's voice startled me as the girls entered silently behind me.
"Bathrooms," I mumbled, "but I don't know why they have their own building."
"The shacks don't have any." Becca said.
"They don't?"
Katherine shook her head. "No showers or tubs either, and I don't see any baths in here?"
"Just the sinks as far as I can tell."
"It's been days since I've had anything more thorough than a damp washcloth," Rachel sighed, then nodded toward the glass wall. "That seem weird to anyone else?"
"Compared to what?" Katherine asked, still enchanted by the craftsmanship. "We can hang curtains or something. We're all adults, and the normal rules for modesty don't exactly apply to us, do they?"
Becca's expression was as uncomfortable as I felt. Everyone followed Rachel through the sliding door back into the warehouse, and Becca closed it behind us.
"I mean," she said, pushing up her glasses, "the pool at the gym has glass doors, but you can't see into the changing rooms. Maybe fairies think that's how it's supposed to be."
"We're not fools," another voice said, and Becca whirled to face Meg as the hag stepped into view. She was barefoot, dripping wet, and her sun dress clung shamelessly to her body.
"I'm sorry," Becca replied sheepishly, "I was only guessing."
"Hi Meg," I said cheerfully, but she responded with the same cold reception I received at the campsite, then gave her full attention to Becca.
"The glass wall is for the shower," she went on.
"Shower?" Rachel said, looking around. "What shower?"
Meg tilted her head back. "That one."
Everyone followed her gaze to nine shiny metal plates arranged in a huge square high above, each perforated with hundreds of holes and suspended by water pipes. Becca broke the silence with a whispered, "Oh no!" and Katherine burst out laughing. I was appalled.
"Are you kidding?" I shouted. "We can't shower like this!"
"Of course you can," Meg said finally addressing me directly. "You can fit fifteen people under those."
"That's not what I mean, why not just put showers in the rooms?" My voice rose in anger. "This is Finn's idea isn't it? She's making fun of me again."
Meg stared back, her dark eyes narrow and shadowed. "Each of those is a twenty-seven-inch luxury rainfall showerhead," she hissed, "and they cost a fortune." She took a step forward and I backed away. "This warehouse wasn't constructed for residential use. There's one drain and one water main under this floor. We only had time to build a single wet wall, and decided that was best done in the kitchen. Rather than tear out ninety percent of the foundation to get at the old plumbing, we consolidated everything over a single pipe. That's why you have a separate bath house instead of toilets in every room. The rain heads were chosen as a comfort to compensate you for that inconvenience, even though they required an industrial pump to give you decent water pressure."
Meg took another step and gestured roughly at the bathhouse. "Because of that, this wall will get wet. Finn selected glass because it's easy to clean and it won't rot, the same reason they use glass doors and dividers around public pools and saunas," she nodded at Becca, acknowledging her earlier observation. "If you're so ashamed of your skin that all this work and expense means nothing to you..." My back hit the wall as Meg took a final step and leaned in, her voice calm but cold as ice. "It's not. My. Problem."
I didn't dare move or look away until Katherine intervened.
"Thomas, it'll be fine," she said. "Thank you for all of this, Meg, it's beautiful work." The hag relaxed and nodded a silent thank you to Katherine.
"Miss... Malone?" Becca said as Meg released me from her glare.
"Meg is fine," the Fae inclined her head. "You're Becca?"
She nodded. "Why are you wet?" Meg looked down at herself and shrugged.
"I had work to do in the river."
"What about the dragon? Isn't it dangerous?"
"He and I have an understanding. Why do you ask?"
"Are you a water fairy?"
"Nymph."
"Really? Miss Gold called you a hag."
Meg shrugged, "Haegtesse, heks, hexe, it's all the same. Nymphs are elementals. All elementals are close to the Veil, but water has a particular affinity for shaping it. Witches use magic, hag means witch. The name stuck."
"I thought hags were supposed to be ugly."
After being on the receiving end of her indignation, Becca's comment made me wince, but Meg just replied, "I am what I am."
"But you're beautiful."
The ghost of a grin flickered across Meg's lips and she quickly changed the subject. "You have a washing machine and a dryer behind the kitchen. The only other thing back there is the basement hatch but stay clear of that for now."
Rachel whistled, "This place has more levels?"
"At least one. I'm pretty sure there's a sub-basement too, but I don't think anyone has gone down that far. Amy and I have a shared workspace at the far end behind the cabins. Stay away from it until we know we're done here. Some of my tools would be difficult to replace."
"Thanks," I said, trying to be polite, hoping I could make amends. She turned without acknowledging me and stalked off.
The others' excitement didn't abate as the day wore on, but as I explored, concerns began to grow in my mind. Amazing seemed too small a word for the work Finn's team put in, and I appreciated the beauty and comfort we'd be able to enjoy without ever leaving the protection of the island. Their effort represented more money than I'd be able to earn in a lifetime. I knew almost nothing about Finn. She seemed too mercenary to hand over a mansion for nothing, and while Miss Gold seemed well off, I didn't believe she had the kind of wealth that could dismiss a project at that scale. What was the real cost, and who'd end up with the bill?
The initial excitement faded into a steady thrill with repeated declarations like "wow," and "holy shit," and "I can't believe this," and after completing several tours of the ground floor, we congregated on one of the sofas.
"I never thought I'd live in anything bigger than my apartment," Becca said, flushed with excitement.
Katherine sighed and leaned against Rachel, crossing her feet on my lap. "I don't think any of us imagined this."
"Your place is pretty damn impressive," Rachel said, but Katherine laughed it off.
"You could fit mom and dad's house in the entryway. Twice."
"It needs a name," Becca said. "Big places have names, right?"
Katherine sat up and leaned forward in interest. "Did you have something in mind?"
"It's a fairy renovated warehouse in the middle of a river," Rachel interrupted. "What are our choices? Magicland?"
"Sounds like a strip club," I said.
"Might as well be with that shower," Rachel answered dryly and Katherine giggled.
"It should be special," Becca said, crossing her legs under her and adjusting her glasses. "It's our home now, so it should mean something to us."
"Okay," Rachel conceded. "Let's hear some suggestions."
Becca sighed and collected her thoughts before speaking. "We're here because of things like Tom's dad and the Winter Court, and maybe the Summer Court too. We're not renegades, because we're not Fae, unless you count Tom. That puts us in the middle of everything."
"Why not just Spring Court?"
"We're not really a whole court though, it's just the four of us. How about—I was thinking Midsummer Manor."
Rachel made a face. "Isn't it a little too obvious? I mean A Midsummer Night's Dream is literally about fairies."
"Maybe I'm being too cautious," I said, nodding in agreement, "but I think we should avoid anything that draws attention to the Fae, or implies that we're taking sides in their war. I know we're in hiding, but if we talk about it where others can hear us, it could attract attention from the wrong people."
"Midway?" Katherine suggested.
"Please not Midway," Becca interjected quietly, "I'll think of work every time someone says it."
"Oh, good point." Katherine frowned, "What else describes something between?"
"Twilight is between day and night."
"Sparkling vampires is a no."
"Terminator," I suggested, and all three shot me a dirty look.
"You're not serious," Katherine warned.
"What? It's the line between day and night on a globe."
"Home Sweet Terminator," Katherine mocked in an exaggerated southern drawl while batting her eyes. Rachel ignored her performance and sat straighter in her seat.
"Hold on, that's it,"
"Rachel—we're not calling it Terminator." Katherine warned.
"Of course not, that's stupid," Rachel said. "Sorry Tom. I meant it gave me an idea. How about Meridian?"
"What?"
"It's a longitude line. The Prime Meridian divides the Eastern and Western hemispheres."
"Meridian," Katherine said, trying it out. "It's... okay, I guess."
"It's not accurate," I complained, and Katherine rolled her eyes. Becca simply stared into the middle distance, her lips working silently as if deep in thought.
Rachel sneered, "You're just mad because nobody liked your dumb Terminator idea."
I was about to snap back when Becca jumped up and shouted, "It's perfect!"
Everyone stared as she turned in place, her eyes darting around as if she was trying to capture a dozen thoughts at once. "An imaginary line that divides the world. It makes me feel like it's big, or important, and this is big and important, at least to us. But it connects Tom too. When Miss Gold talked about those lights, she just meant the points, but— hold on a second."
She ran off to her room and returned moments later with the Glim, setting it down on the coffee table and flipping pages.
"Look, this is a map of the Chi, or whatever it is. Read this, look what it says!" She held out the hagstone, and Rachel took it from her.
"Holy shit."
"I know, right?"
"Is someone going to enlighten me?" I asked.
"See these dots?" Becca asked, tracing several points on the outline of a human body.
"Yeah."
"Those are like your fairy lights. See the lines that go between them? Want to guess what they're called?" I blinked in confusion for a moment before it hit me.
"Oh," I said dumbly, and Becca awarded me with a grin.
"But it's not only that," she enthused, "it's also another word for ley lines, and Finn said we're sitting right where a bunch come together." Everyone sat silent, staring until her smile gradually faded. "I'm—I'm sorry, it was just an idea."
"No!" Katherine's elation dispelled the surprise the rest of us felt. "You're right, it's perfect. Beautifully perfect. Does anyone have an objection?" She looked around the room, letting the silence drag out a few more seconds before nodding with satisfaction.
"That's it then." She flashed Becca a wide smile and stood up. " I hereby christen our new home." She raised an imaginary glass in an invisible toast, followed by Rachel, then me. "Meridian!" she said.
"Meridian!" we answered with a little less enthusiasm, but Becca's distant gaze had returned and she smiled softly, repeating the name quietly to herself.