The Fairyhunter
Part
14
Adrian crouched down,
inspecting the box trap at his feet without really looking at it. His mind was
wandering, just as it had been ever since the night he heard the sprite speak
to him.
There
were quite a few topics it was fraught with, too. It began fairly simply…who
the hell did she think she WAS? Being hot does not give her the right to
tell me what to do, he decided firmly. I've survived a long time before
her and will find better looking women after her. Maybe
not as fiery or as sexy…but better looking. He had to admit that
Neena wasn't beautiful in that ethereal fairylike sort of way, but more in that
athletic tomboyish kind of way. The determination and attitude she sported did
nothing to hide her natural curves, her voluptuous little legs and that tight
little…
He
gritted his teeth, trying to focus again as he placed a small sapphire inside
the trap as bait. She was a BUG, for cryin' out
loud, not a woman! She was prey, a gold piece or two and nothing more,
regardless of how she looked or what she said.
Which brought him to the hardest point to deal with…what she said.
Or worse yet, the fact that he could understand what she said
at all. There was no denying that she'd spoken to him, not anymore. Even
if she hadn't used human speech, he'dve had no
problem catching her drift. He grinned, remembering the first night how she'd
threatened him, even as he stood above her, boot close enough to assure her
messy demise. She'd even been cute then, he thought. Not a nervous
little gnat like the flower sprites were, or a snarling animal, like the wild
sprites and elemental sprites tended to be. She was…well, like he'd be if
someone had captured him. Too proud to show any fear.
He
felt another wave of guilt overcome him and he grimaced. Of course she'd be
upset about him capturing sprites. She WAS one, after all. Just because it was
his job didn't mean she had to like it. And if he was going to like her, he
couldn't keep doing this. He had, after all, spent the last day and a half
being passionate with her all over the forest. That, if nothing more, made her
real enough to reconsider…a lot of things. Plus throwing the fact that she'd
done the same thing up in her face…well, he knew that hadn't earned him any
brownie points, either.
He sat back on the ground, a little harder
than he'd intended. His own thoughts were stunning him at this point. How could
he be this shaken up over a sprite? If he was going to get like this over every
one of them, he'd never be able to catch one again. There was no future in
sprites except for as a way of making money. She was a bug, not a woman,
he repeated to himself.
He wondered how many times would he have to remind himself of that before he believed
it again.
"Alright,"
he said aloud, steeling his nerves. "It was a fluke. They don't talk. They
aren't sexy. They bring in money and I NEED my money. Plus I couldn't find her
right now, even if I wanted to. That's…SHIT!" The last part he directed to
the pair of legs and plaid skirt that had just appeared in front of him. A
man's chuckle made him scramble backward and look up into the face of one of
the biggest men he'd ever seen. Not much taller than himself, he realized,
stumbling to his feet and just about standing eye to eye with the man, but
definitely BIGGER. Muscles seemed to go on like an endless horizon on the
landscape of this man, serving to accent the need for the massive claymore
strapped to his back and the leather breastplate he wore. Why he'd decided
to wear a skirt with it…?
"‘Tis a kilt, not a skirt, lad," said the man, reading
his mind. "Yer not the first ta
wonder."
"I
guess not," agreed Adrian.
"Kind of a strong fashion statement."
"Standard
Highlander attire," he shrugged.
"If
you're a standard Highlander, I hate to run afoul of the upgraded models,"
Adrian said,
grinning a little.
"Not
unless you fancy using a claymore as a new backbone. The name's Turlock McBaene," came the reply. Adrian raised a surprised
eyebrow and hesitated to take the hand offered him until he saw the smile in
the big man's eyes. His own hands had always been long and lean, like his
6’4" body, but even with matching height, he still felt dwarfed as the
warrior’s hand grasped his.
"Adrian
Quicksilver," he replied. "What brings you out here, Highlander?
We're a good 5 or 6 miles from the nearest town."
"Oh,
just out for a bit of a stroll. I don't live too far myself. The wife and I
prefer it that way," Turlock
said.
"Quite
a woman to prefer being clear out here instead of near family, friends and the
frock shops," Adrian
grinned.
"That
she is," Turlock
smiled. "But then, she likes to have her space as much as I. Hard to fly
in crowded city streets."
Adrian blinked. "I’m
sorry, what?"
"‘Tis hard to
fly in crowded streets," Turlock
repeated, as plainly as if one spoke of wives flying every day. "She gets
excited and doesn’t look where she’s going, then gets tangled in a woman’s hat
or hair going by, so…"
Adrian stared blankly for
a moment. For just a fraction of a second, the idea of this huge man married to
a fairy or sprite, the only living beings he could think of that could possibly
get tangled in someone’s hair, flitted into his mind. Then he began to laugh.
This guy was a riot! "You’re hilarious! You almost had me going for a sec!
Wife in the hair, that’s good, that’s…" The calm look on the Highlander’s
face told him that his laughter was terribly, horribly inappropriate. "Ohhhh,
and you’re serious," he added, the smile disappearing.
Turlock smiled ever so
slightly. "A beautiful woman, my little Naomi," he said. "The
prettiest sprite in all the realm. But then, I’m a bit
biased meself." Both men’s eyes slowly cast
downward at the box trap Adrian
was setting, then back up at each other. "I probably don’t want to ask
what brings you out this way, then," Turlock
added, a little coldly.
"No,
no, you, uh…no," Adrian
mumbled, kicking the box aside.
"I’d be quite put out if something were
to happen to her," His eyes never left Adrian’s face, even when Adrian himself had
to look away. "Get my meanin’, lad?"
Adrian nodded absently, completely lost. He’d defended his
craft to larger men before. Not many people, including his own father, felt
that chasing fairy folk was a real man’s job, regardless of the money. It had
never really rattled him until now. He could feel his mental ground giving way
on him and he was sure it was for one of two reasons, one of which was the fact
that he’d never met anyone in his life who’d married a sprite. The other had
flown away from him with a gem he’dve normally had
her trapped in by now. "Yeah, I…yeah, I could see where…yeah…" he
mumbled again, still lost in thought and shame.
"So long as we have
an understanding, then." The
Highlander turned and began to walk back the way he’d come. "I’ll expect
you and your friend to be out of my woods by noon."
"Wait!" Adrian burst out, surprising even himself.
The retreating figure stopped, but did not look back.
"Aye?" came the reply.
"You, uh…you’re married to…she’s a
sprite, right?" he stammered, trying to figure out what he wanted to ask
as he spoke.
"Aye."
"And…she talks good and all that?"
The Highlander turned. "Talks
WELL. Aye, lad, she does…what are ye getting’ at?"
"Well, I…" Adrian
looked from Turlock
to the trap and felt self-conscious again. "No, I’m not appraising her or
anything, I just…" Turlock’s eyebrow went
up, then down into a frown, and Adrian
backpedaled again. "Bad choice of words…okay, look, forget all this is
sitting here for a minute," he said, grabbing the trap up and glaring at
it. "I don’t even know if I do this right now. I just wanna
know if…if it’s real."
"Is what real?"
"Do you…I mean, does she…I mean, she
talks and all that, but is she…?" he paused, trying to figure out what he
wanted to say.
"Real?" Turlock echoed. "Does she sleep with me,
keep my bed warm, make me breakfast, tend to our children and our home? Yes,
lad, she does. Does she depend on me to protect her, just as much as I depend
on her to take care of me? Aye, that too. Does she
pout when she doesn’t get her way and do I give in because I can’t stand to see
her unhappy? Sometimes twice a day. Does she plant a fairykiss on me when I come home from slaying beasts and riddin’ the world of evil, a kiss that makes me wonder what
I ever saw in human women? Aye, I and I kiss her right back with all that I am.
Is she really a woman and do I really love her, is what you’re asking and the
answer is YES. And if I EVER THOUGHT you were out here trying to sell her or my
children to some lazy mage that doesn’t have the talent to learn magic on his
own instead of stealing it from the weak and innocent, or some fat merchant
just out to make a gold piece on a new fad for the rich, there wouldn’t be a
shaman in the realm that could piece your body back together." Somehow, Turlock had managed to cross the distance between the two
men without Adrian
even noticing. He found himself gaping nose to nose at the man and his
impassioned speech, so much so that he was unprepared for the sudden silence.
He was sure Turlock hadn’t raised his voice
once, but Adrian
felt his ears ringing. "Does that answer yer
question?"
"I…I think so," he replied.
"Then why are ye still holding that
trap as if ye don’t want it broken?" asked Turlock gently.
Adrian looked down at the trap that would have cost him
fifteen hundred gold pieces new. It was force of habit that had him holding it
carefully, he knew, but suddenly, he felt defensive. "Because I PAID for
this with my own money, that’s why. Look, it’s not my fault I don’t know
anything about this! I’ve been doing this all my life! I’m damn GOOD at this
job! In fact, I’m the BEST! Just because your wife is special and some sprite
in the woods starts talking doesn’t mean that the whole thing has to go south!
I mean, DAMN, you’ve got muscles coming out the ass…people PAY for you to flex
and hack at dragons. The rest of us have to EARN a living, ya
know? We can’t all BE like you! I sunk an entire chunk of my life into learning
to do this and…"
"Do what?" Turlock asked, moving forward, voice even.
"Doing what I do," Adrian quickly replied,
standing his ground.
"And what is it ye do?" Turlock returned, still calm as ever. "Say it."
"You KNOW what I do, or you wouldn’t be
out here threatening me!" Adrian
snapped.
"Nobody’s threatening anybody
now," Turlock
said quietly. "Just say it. Say it and hear it for yourself."
"I’M A FAIRYHUNTER! I capture Fae and sell them!" Adrian exploded. "What, I said it! It’s
not we’re talking real PEOPLE, for…" It was at that very moment that the
tiny grip he still had on his defense fluttered away from him, just like she
had done the night before. He was capturing and selling tiny winged people. A
long quiet moment passed before he could speak, and even then, it was through
clenched teeth. "I have to go."
Turlock looked him over, then nodded and smiled, as if
satisfied. "Out by noon, then?"
"Sooner."
"Then good luck ta
ya, lad." Turlock
turned and began to walk away once more, leaving Adrian standing and staring past him in stony
silence. "Let’s hope ya confront this demon
before she confronts you," he called back over his shoulder." She’s
driving me crazy."
Even with the tension he felt, Adrian couldn’t help but
wonder what the Highlander meant by that…
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