Shadows to Stars Chapter 7
Relieved to leave the magical Lodge and its throngs of Fae patrons, you stopped for a slice of pizza at Sizzle Pie. Your shoulders relax under the familiar sound of Portland traffic and the afterglow of melty cheese.
You must have lost your mind to deepen your relationship with the Fae further. Especially after what you read about elves and sylphs. At least the vast majority of elves live in the Underworld and not anywhere near you.
The flow of afternoon foot traffic in Portland carries you to the garage containing your car. You wait patiently for the elevator when someone tall emerges from the shadows and your nerves catch fire.
A man dressed in black with that same wide, dark hood you recall from Fògradh Lodge slides beside you. You catch a glimpse of short grey beard before he speaks. "Stare straight ahead. Don't make eye contact, friend. We've no clue who may be watching." His Scottish brogue is thick.
All moisture evaporates from your mouth and breaks out instead as sweat. "I saw you-"
"Shh. Don't speak. It's not safe. We’ve been following you to ensure your Fae dealings leave you unscathed."
And probably to get information for your own purposes. You flash the mysterious man a weak smile while edging back a step. "And what deal must I make with you for the pleasure?"
The man pushes off from the wall and eases around a corner. “No deal, we want nothing from you, only to protect you. Once you finish the errand for our mutual acquaintance, I'll find you. We'll compare notes, and I think you'll find the ultimate source of our shared friend's information quite surprising. That book's owners may want those pages back."
Selina and Charlotte finished breakfast, loaded into the Caravan, and drove into Portland. Soon they pulled into the circular driveway of a massive Victorian mansion in the Arlington Heights neighborhood.
The top of the drive opened into a sweeping wraparound porch, painted in the same vibrant, festive colors as the mansion itself. The building bristled with bay windows, turrets, and ornate gingerbread cutouts. Several similarly gaudy smaller buildings flanked the mansion.
An ostentations fountain featured a winged woman pouring water from a chalice into a pool below seemed like a gathering place. A group of people in white sat cross-legged in a circle around a fountain, eyes closed, lips moving in unison. Even at a distance, Selina could tell they were chanting.
Everything about this place was wrong.
Fae had always needed their human cousins for various reasons like childbearing, energy, sometimes more sinister needs. But their relationships with mortals had never looked like this.
They parked, and Selina grimaced. “This is the address Pangur Ban gave me, last place I thought a phooka would live.” She shook her head.
Charlotte ran a hand over her pendant. “Does that mean this phooka is dangerous?”
“All Fae are dangerous. It means you must follow my lead.”
Inside the vast, Victorian interior, the air reeked of sandalwood and dragon’s blood incense. The low drone of massive crystal singing bowls vibrated in Selina’s ribs. The crowd swayed in bright robes, some wearing glowing wire-and-crystal crowns. Near the corner, a makeshift band comprising a sitarist, a bongo drummer, and a tambourine player led a call-and-response chant.
Your light is the gate, the door, the key.
To endless worlds, to eternity.
Breathe the stars, let shadows fall,
We are one; we are all.
Charlotte leaned close, whispering near Selina’s ear. “I think this might be a cult.”
Selina rolled her eyes. “You don’t say.”
A crownless woman paused in front of them, beaming. “Welcome, Starseeds, to Tír na Nova. Your light is the gate to eternity. When we meet, we make the Crown of Light.”
She lifted her hands to her forehead, thumbs and index fingers together, the rest of her fingers splayed. In one motion, she lowered them to her chest, then flipped her palms up in an offering gesture. With a slight bow, she said, “From shadows to stars.” Then she pressed brochures into their hands and moved on.
Selina shoved the paper into her pocket. “Great. Thanks.” Finding the phooka in this woo-woo three-ring circus was going to be a challenge.
They followed the flow of people toward a set of doors at the back of the parlor, which opened into an auditorium with movie-theater seating. Cultists soon ushered them to seating, then closed the doors behind them.
The presentation began with a welcome speech full of pseudo-spiritual babble and a ridiculous video montage of cosmic imagery narrated with an even more vicious onslaught of toxic positivity.
When it was over, the murmuring crowd grew silent as a Japanese man in bright yellow and orange robes strode onto the stage. His copper and crystal crown flickered with an internal light. “I am Hiro and I am Starborn. Welcome to Tír na Nova, where your light becomes the key to eternity.”
His voice was soothing, rhythmic, carefully honed over years of sermons to disbelievers. “You’ve felt it, haven’t you? The weight of the world pulling at your soul, the sense that everything is falling apart? We feel like we’re drowning in darkness, but the universe is endless light. Though most of us live in shadow. Our master, the Lightbringer, can help you become the light and tap into your magic. You’re here because you are being called to ascend to the stars.”
Selina folded her arms. “And I forgot my shovel.”
Onstage, Hiro continued to toss his word salad, as he lifted his hands. “I know what you’re thinking. These are the same empty promises all false gurus spout. It’s fake.” Feathery white wings erupted from his back. The audience gasped. “It’s different; this is real. I have bound my darkness. Opened my quantum gate. And now I soar.” He lifted off, circling above the crowd.
Charlotte sucked in a sharp breath.
Selina ignored Hiro and focused on his wings, observing the spell that was woven through them. “That’s not his magic,” she murmured.
Hiro landed at the back of the auditorium, with extended hands. “Still doubt this is real? Touch my wings as I return to the stage.”
People lined up at the edges of the aisle, brushing their fingers across the glowing feathers in awe.
Selina’s neck tensed. “We’re definitely in the right place.”
Charlotte bit the inside of her cheek. “Do you think this phooka—”
“Play the part. And remember what I told you this morning.”
The winged man returned to the stage, basking in the devoted murmurs spreading through the crowd. “Tonight, something rare is happening. The Lightbringer, usually sequestered, tending to his great humanitarian work, is here.”
Selina arched a brow. What a surprise. No dog and pony show was complete without its showrunner.
“Please welcome…” Hiro’s voice rose. “Robin Goodfellow.”
A tall black man with waist-length dreadlocks bound loosely at his back strode onto the stage wearing a flowing kimono and draped with flowers. He looked human, but even from the middle of the room, Selina saw his golden, faintly glowing eyes. That Robin Goodfellow was another name for Puck, the literary phooka, confirmed they had found their Fae.
Robin Goodfellow had a deep resonant voice with a slight Jamaican accent he used to great effect to bamboozle his prospective new followers. He performed minor feats of shapeshifting, becoming a crow, a shaggy dog, and a stag. Charlotte even seemed impressed.
The show ended swiftly, and Robin Goodfellow and his Starboarn entourage ushered the audience back into the incense-thick lobby for a reception. New recruits handed over deposits, mesmerized and eager to join the ranks.
The Fae moved like a predator, honing in on those whose wallets remained shut. Soon the phooka, Hiro, and a plump middle-aged woman stood before them.
The phooka lifted his hands and, with the grace of a well-rehearsed ritual, made the Crown of Light gesture. “From shadows to stars, Starseeds.”
Selina wanted to scoff but needed to stay in his good graces. She mirrored the motion. “From shadows to stars.”
Charlotte hesitated until Selina elbowed her. The teen made a sloppy approximation of the movement and mumbled “shadow and stars.”
He extended his hand to Selina. “I truly hope you’ll join us miss…” His fingertips tipped forward, inviting her to spill her full name.
Selina refused to take the bait. “Selina and this is Charlotte. Is there somewhere private we can speak without your entourage?”
The Fae’s smile widened, and he scanned Selina head to toe. “There is a rare light in you. However, private audiences with the Lightbringer are reserved for Starborn or others who have contributed significantly to our church. You understand.”
Charlotte inhaled and opened her mouth to likely argue, but Selina tapped the teen’s foot with hers. “Oh, I think you’ll want to grant us that audience. We have a common friend who has given me a most handsome gift.”
Robin’s eyes sparkled. “An inheritance, perhaps? Though I can’t imagine us sharing a friend.”
“Pangur Ban sends his regards.”
The self-important grin slid from Robin’s face like melting wax. “Hiro. Ruth. Leave us.” His voice remained smooth, but his pupils constricted. “My new friends and I have much to discuss.”
Hiro inhaled sharply. “But Light-”
A slashing gesture with his hand and both Starborn gave a hasty Crown of Light and moved toward another mark.
Robin Goodfellow escorteded Selina and Charlotte into a luxurious library lined with mahogany bookshelves. A cluster of leather chairs surrounded a coffee table, its surface strewn with crystal orbs and gold-trimmed manuscripts.
He lowered himself into a chair with a flourish, gesturing for them to sit. “Pangur Ban, you say and just how can I be sure you speak the truth? Humans lie all the time.” The Fae was visibly sweating and fidgeted with one of his dreadlocks.
Selina settled into the chair beside him, Charlotte perched stiffly at her side. “Arrogant cait sith. White phallus on his chest. Ring a bell?”
With a nervous laugh, the Fae tapped his foot in a rhythm against the table’s edge. “Ah yes, old Dickchest himself. Hopefully, you didn’t make fun of his unfortunate marking. The blighter hates that.”
“I didn’t, but we struck a bargain. In payment, he transferred your debt to me. I understand the terms were quite open-ended.”
Robin stilled. “How do I know-”
“You’re Fae.” Selina leaned back, allowing herself the smallest smile. “Despite my humanity, you knew the moment I spoke his name. The debt is mine. I’ve come to collect.”
The flicker of tension in his golden eyes was enough to tell her she was right. She enjoyed his discomfort. Hoodwinking mortals out of their money with cheap Fae parlor tricks was an unconscionable scam, and she disliked him for it.
Charlotte gave a yelp as the phooka’s shape shimmered, darkened, and collapsed into a dense black cloud before reforming. The Fae regarded them in his true form. Just like the image in Selina’s book, the phooka was a mishmash of different animal’s body parts, like something dredged from the old stories. The kind warning that interacting with the Folk was always a bad idea.
Charlotte gripped the arms of her chair, eyes darting wildly. “Where did he go?”
Selina kept her voice steady. “He’s right there. It would help our discussion if you let her see you, and told us what we should call you. Robin Goodfellow can’t be your actual name..”
The phooka’s velvet ears twitched. “Tsk, tsk. You and I both know names have power, but nice try.” He worked his fingers through through his thick neck ruff. “I am the one and only Phooka. Most fabulous of my kind. People simply call me the Phooka.”
Before Charlotte could react, he made a wet, hacking sound in the back of his throat and spat a wad of saliva straight into her eye. She shrieked, wiping at her face with the sleeve of her shirt.
When Charlotte opened her eye again, she froze. “What the-”
“You’re welcome,” the Phooka said smugly. “You now have the Sight and can see the Folk whether or not we want you to.”
The Phooka turned to Selina. “A freebie, to encourage you to not be hasty and ask for too much.” His ears flicked back.
Selina shot him a glare. “You could have warned her.”
His laugh was like a donkey braying. “Where’s the fun in that?”
The mood shifted as Selina and Charlotte laid out their story. The Phooka lounged idly swinging a hoof, feigning boredom, but Selina caught the sharp glint of interest beneath the cultivated bored droop of his eyelids. When she described the island, his casual posture stiffened, just slightly.
By the time she finished, the act had almost completely slipped. No hint of left or boredom remained in his demeanor.
The Phooka dragged a finger through the fur on his chin. “And you want me to what? Clear the wards? Keep in mind, the debt you inherited only covers things within my power.”
Charlotte flipped a hand. “You can’t undo one spell?”
The Phooka inhaled, slow and deep, as if summoning the patience of a god dealing with a particularly ignorant mortal. He stared at the girl down his long nose. “My dear, from what you described, not even a god could undo that enchantment.”
Selina shifted in her seat, the leather groaning beneath her. He had understood the power of the ward just from their description. Concerning for a multitude of reasons. “But can you get the two of us through it?”
“Is that your boon?”
“Not all of it. We need more than passage. I want your assistance and protection while we search for Charlotte’s father, your help to remove him and both of us from the island, and total silence about this to anyone.”
A gleaming smile spread across the Fae’s face. “Is that your formal bargain?”
Selina’s pulse quickened. If she worded this wrong, it would cost them dearly. Charlotte’s future rested on her next words.
She took a slow breath, steadying herself. “No. This is: Phooka, in payment of the debt previously owed to Pangur Ban, now owed to me, you will escort Charlotte and myself to Sauvie Island, help us penetrate the warding spell without undue pain and with our sanity intact. If Fae, humans, or any other creatures attempt to harm us on our way to the home of her father, Ellis, you will fight at our side. You will not harm us by action or inaction, nor fail to prevent us from harm. You will use any magic or skill you possess to locate Charlotte’s home and father. You will use any magic or strength you have to bring Ellis back with us. Once we have found him, you will escort us safely off Sauvie Island. You will never speak of this incident again for as long as you live. Fulfill these terms, and your debt is paid.”
The room fell into absolute silence.
The Phooka stayed unnervingly still, but energy thrummed beneath his skin, coiled tight.
Then, without hesitation, he threw back his head and laughed, deep and braying. When he straightened, he shifted, the human shape rippling back into place.
“Done,” he said, voice thick with delight. “This should prove very fun indeed.”
Charlotte clasped Selina’s hand, worry flickering behind her eyes. Selina squeezed her fingers, offering what reassurance she could. “It’s okay, sweetheart. This is exactly what we wanted.”
And, if she was reading the situation right, exactly what the Phooka wanted too.
That, more than anything, brought a chill to her bones.
All that incense and chanting gave you a pounding headache that made processing all that you witnessed a challenge. Knowing Fae could work powerful magic was one thing, seeing how masterfully one could manipulate a room full of people proved horrifying.
Before you hurry out the gaudy, overly Victorian door, you grab one of the brochures to show Pangur Ban what his phooka friend is up to so deep in the city.
A cult. Fae literally running a cult. Why? Perhaps the vaporous cat will have answers. Your shadowy new friend seems to have knowledge of the magical world as well.
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