Jason Bik's posterous

*Tipping my imaginary cap to Bob Hope!*

Yeah, I know -- the real thing is still another five months away, but sometimes it's good to take time to appreciate your friends and family. Breana and I will take care of the food, drink and decorations. You just have to show up! 

While setting up an emergency account for Breana and me in Rio de Janeiro during our self-imposed exile, I ran across a street merchant who caught my attention. It wasn’t because of the racks of pirated CDs he was selling for meager coin or the knock-off brand t-shirts, but rather it was the array of mysterious, recycled pop bottles filled with glittery, coarse granules and sealed with scarlet wax.  The merchant was obviously one of the folk. His glamour fooled nearly all the passersby into seeing a tall, young, dark skinned boy, with acneed skin, but I could see quite plainly that his ears were pointed, his skin pale and his stature short. He was a brownie – a second-born fae, but a fae none-the-less. He obviously recognized me as one of folk as well.

“Sooo…” he said in a voice reminiscent of a teenager speaking quickly after inhaling a lung full of helium, “are you interested in my wares? Perhaps, you might like a bit of tonic to ward ya from the ironitch?”

If I ever had a thought about walking past his little street corner display, it had evaporated like dew in the mid-morning sun. I had never heard of a tonic that would protect one of the folk from the harsh effects of iron. There was of course a lotion that when rubbed across the skin would produce a thin shield allowing the folk to touch cold iron without being burned, but I’d never heard of something as convenient as a tonic that might serve the same purpose. My curiosity chained me from walking further.

“Tonic? For iron… itch?” I asked with obvious incredulousness.

“Yep, yep, yep my lord,” he rattled off like a card flipping in the spokes of bicycle. “You’re welcome to try a dose for free to see for yourself.”

I frowned at his formality. It always irked my sense of propriety to be given undue respect just because I was a first-born. In my world, I never understood why my kind had deemed it necessary to group the fae who had evolved into new forms such as nymphs, pixies, sprites and others as second-born. But his offer to sample his tonic seemed like a reasonable one and I quickly ignored his troubling fealty.

“It’s Jason. Ya can call me Jason or just Bik if ya prefer. I’d like to try your tonic.”

The fidgety brownie reached for a bottle of glittery brown sand and poured a teaspoon-worth into a bottle of water. He shook the bottle vigorously until the sand had dissolved leaving the water with a pinkish hue. The sunlight refracted through the bottle in a sparkle of colors as he handed it to me.

“Go ahead. Drink, drink, drink. You’ll see. You’ll see.”

I did drink and the result was something wonderful. Normally, my time spent in the mundane world is accompanied by the palpable realization that modern humanity used iron for everything. Iron composed beams, girders, cars, buses, trains, or in other words, nearly everything. It even circulated in the hemoglobin of their blood! But after giving the tonic a moment to infuse my veins, I no longer felt weighed down by the caustic effects of iron that spanned the city like bones in cemetery. I felt nearly as good and nearly as strong as I did when I was home in Faery.  

“This is incredible,” I blurted in excitement. “How often do I need to take it?”

“One tiny teaspoon a day will suit most fae,” he responded with a patently rehearsed sales slogan. “Just keep it away from the mortals. While it temporarily gives the poor human access to fae magic, to them it’s highly addictive. Sooner or later they’ll die preferring the tonic to food, water or even sleep. Here on the streets, the unfortunate humans who have access to the tonic call it Never*.”

He giggled, “They even have a little warning they like to recite. Never more than once a day, and never more than two days in a row.”

I grimaced as he explained the effects of the tonic on humans, remembering all of the bums strung out on crystal meth I had seen on the streets of South Dallas. I never could understand how the feel of some chemical could replace the love of friend or family. Of course, I’m not one to talk. The fae folk are naturally self centered, fickle and capricious even without the influence of some drug. Even though I’d like to think I was different, sometimes it was hard to countermand my own instincts. As tempting as it might be, I couldn’t afford becoming dependent on anything. Bree and the twins depended on me too much to take that kind of chance.

“So, if it’s that addictive for humans, how about for us?”

“Ahhh… no more than water itself, my lord. It’s the magic you see. We’re immune.”

Grinning at having found such a godsend, the most pressing question I had was whether I could afford it. After all, in my nearly 600 years I had never seen this tonic for sell anywhere else. Too bad I’d cut up Stan’s black Amex he’d loaned me for expenses, because I suspected I’d never be able to afford it.

“How much for the tonic?” I inquired sheepishly.

“Hmm…” he mused scratching his head. “You don’t happen to have any cheese, do ya?”

 I couldn’t help myself. I just grinned.

*Never or Nevermore is faerie medicine described in Holly Black’s Valiant: A Modern Tale of Faerie. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Valiant_:_A_Modern_Tale_of_Faerie

It's 2026 and our children, Liam Auberon and Nessa Shaylee Bik, are finding that being a teenager is really hard work. Follow their continuing adventures at World's Apart.

After throwing the remains of their supper in the campfire, Jason and Breana went through the process of preparing their camp for the night – washing the clothes they had worn while they prepared their meal, hanging their food stores from a rope strung between trees and making sure the guy lines on their makeshift tent were secure. Normally, they went through this ritual every evening while chit-chatting about their day, talking about what they missed most about the civilized world and taking turns looking after the twins. However, tonight there was a tension in the air that could almost be tasted and it was bittersweet. Tonight was the night of a new moon, but more significantly, tonight they would perform the Ritual of Severing that would prepare the twins for their new lives with separate families. It was a dreaded but important milestone whose impending completion left both of their hearts feeling too heavy to beat.

Earlier in the week, Jason had felt it would be unwise to perform tonight’s ritual without paying proper respect to the spirits of earth, wind, fire or air. So, in preparation they spent several days beforehand exploring the jungle for an appropriate venue. In the end they had picked a glen that sheltered a small river tributary with a clear view of the sky. Inside the glen, they setup their campsite near a majestic stone that was flat and large enough to hold both the twins lying next to each other. To complete their preparations Jason also fashioned some crude torches. Tonight he was satisfied that appropriate homage would be paid to all the spirits and hopefully that supplication would bring luck to the twins’ futures.

Noticing the alignment of the stars, Jason looked over at Breana and announced, “It’s time, babe.”

Breana reached down and picked up both twins and held one in each arm. They were happy babies and they both smiled at her touch. They were already getting so big it was hard for her to believe. Her breath caught in her throat when she thought about how little time they would be with her after tonight. Although it seemed like yesterday, it had been months ago that they left the twins with a troop of woolly monkeys while she and Jason hunted for a witch to learn about the Ritual of Severing. Back then several months seemed like an eternity to spend together with her babies and Jason, but after tonight she knew that a gut-wrenching sacrifice was facing her soon.

As Breana approached the rock where the twins would lay, she saw that Jason’s preparations were complete. The torches, laid out around the perimeter of the rock, were already lit and the opened jar of Bai Tandros salve was sitting ominously at the head of the stone.

Jason wrapped his arms around both Breana and the twins wanting to feel all of them in his arms one more time before they started the ritual. After a long moment, he curled his arm around Nessa and took her from Breana.  Jason carefully laid Nessa on a wool blanket that was spread over the rock and Breana did the same with Liam so that the twins were lying side by side.

Now they waited for midnight. After a few minutes Polaris aligned with Megrez at the appropriate inclination at which time Jason nodded to Breana. One after the other they dipped their fingers into the salve and smeared it over the twins’ eyes. The salve had a pungent odor and Breana was sure it stung the twins’ eyes when they started crying, but according to the witch, Bruxta Dorio, it had to stay on until the light of morning.

Several hours later, morning came and it found Jason and Breana sitting next to each other beside the ritual stone. Each of them was holding one of the sleeping twins in their soothing hands. The Ritual of Severing was complete and it was a new day, but the day was filled with dread.

As they arrived at Bruxta Dorio’s stilted, thatched hut, Jason and Breana pulled their canoe onto the shore and walked out onto the adjoining dock, careful to protect their precious bundles. The door to the hut was filled with skulls strung together with vines that hung like menacing vipers from the top of the doorway. Several skulls clacked together as Breana pushed the strings to one side and walked inside. Examining the skulls a little closer, Jason noticed that most of the them were from various animals, but he thought he saw portions of human skull as well and he cringed. Now, he would have to be alert to Bruxta Dorio’s motives, especially if one of her hobbies was murder.

Reaching the other side of the gruesome door, Breana was surprised to see a half eaten package of Oreo cookies sitting on a small sewing table and an espresso pot percolating over a faerie stove, not unlike the one she and Jason had back in Texas. The irregular walls of the hut were covered with several levels of shelves filled with a bewildering parade of vials, boxes, salves, poultices and preserved bits of things she did not recognize. At the sewing table sat an ageless and comely woman with subtly tinted green skin and silver hair. She was dressed in a simple, rose-colored dressing gown and sat in an old wicker chair sipping espresso and nibbling on a cookie which while not what she expected, it was not that unusual. What was surprising was that on each side of the woman’s neck were thin slits that that looked very much like gills. So, Jason was right, she thought. She is a nixie.

With a supple motion that betrayed nothing of her age, Bruxta Dorio motioned for both of them to have a seat on the floor on top of a peculiar, quilted rug. Jason lowered himself to the floor and crossed his legs in front of him while Breana folder her legs beneath her to sit on her heels. They could see that the rug had been sewn from the skins of literally hundreds of rats and each small patch was covered with fur of assorted browns, grays and white. Some of the patches of fur looked diseased and were missing small tufts as if inflicted by mange. Despite two of his closest friends, Marty and Maurice, being field mice, Jason forced a neutral expression on his face and did his best to hide his revulsion from the witch.

“May I offer you some coffee? Some cookies?” The witch forced in a polite, quaking voice.

His suspicion already peaked, Jason was not about to trust a nixie with centuries of knowledge on toxins and potions by ingesting anything she offered. Before answering her he quickly flashed Breana a wary grimace. “It’s too kind of ya ta offer,” Jason replied craftily. “Your coffee smells wonderful, but we’re not hungry or thirty.”

Despite Jason’s attempt of polite refusal, Bruxta Dorio frowned. “Sua mãe!” She spat. “You are in too much of a hurry. I’m surprised one of Faery has such poor manners.”

Breana patted the little back of the fidgeting bundle wrapped in swaddling clothes and tried her best to cover for Jason. She apologized, “we are so sorry, madam, but my husband was just thinking of the twins. We need to get our babies home soon since it will be supper time soon.”

“Fine… fine,” Bruxta Dorio sighed. “We’ll dispense with any sense of manners. It has just been so long since I have had visitors.” Sitting back in her chair she took a tiny sip of espresso before continuing. “So, you wanted to use the Ritual of Severing on your children. Did I understand that right?”

Jason and Breana nodded.

Responding to their nods, the witch put her espresso cup down and continued. “There is really no trick to the ritual. It is actually quite simple provided you have prepared a Bai Tandros salve. Once you have the salve the ritual goes like this – At midnight, under the darkness of a new moon, you rub the Bai Tandros salve into the eyes of the child receiving the Ritual of Severing. Upon the light of the next morn’, the ritual is permanent and irreversible.”

“Interesting.” Jason pondered. “Can ya tell us how to make the salve?”

“No! That I will not do,” spewed the witch. “But, I will trade a bit of salve that I’ve already made. For the right… cost.”

Jason and Breana exchanged a concerned glance at the witch’s emphasis of the word cost. Jason had figured beforehand that if Bruxta Dorio were a nixie, she would have a fascination for inflicting pain, be it physical or mental, on anyone seeking her help. While they had no quarrel with her, if she pushed this too far she might get more than she bargained for.

“O-Okay,” Jason stammered. “What do ya want for the salve?”

After taking another casual sip of espresso, she pulled a tiny glass jar filled with a dark, viscous salve from a side pocket on her dressing gown and sat it on her sewing table. The witch grinned unnaturally wide and then chuckled menacingly. “Understand this – the Bai Tandros salve is extremely difficult to concoct and I must ask a fair price for it. But, I would be convinced trade it for one of your babies – the oldest should do.”

“No!” Breana growled. “That’s not going to happen!”

Jason held his helpless little bundle that much tighter and then, for the witch’s benefit, he pressed a tiny kiss against the swaddling clothes before replying calmly. “Ya heard my wife. Our babies aren’t for sale. We’re offended you’d suggest such a trade. What else would ya want?”

“There is no need to be rude. I just thought you wanted the salve.” – Bruxta Dorio sighed dramatically – “No child, no salve. Now, if there is nothing else, maybe it is time for you to leave.”

 Jason looked mournfully at Breana and then stiffened his jaw as he looked back to the witch. Pondering his next steps, he could only look helplessly back to his wife and ask, “Bree, would you mind waiting for me on the dock. I’d like to talk with Bruxta Dorio alone.”

With extreme worry in her eyes, Breana stuttered in surprise, “W-What are you going to do?”

Jason winked at Breana and asked, “Do you trust me, baby?”

Breana replied in the manner she always did, “You know I do.”

 Breana glared at Bruxta Dorio before lifting herself and her little bundle off the rug. Carefully turning while holding the wrapped bundle securely, she walked outside parting the skulls in the doorway and letting them clack as she passed.

Jason watched Breana and waited until she was outside. While Bree never failed to make him feel special for proclaiming her trust, he always wondered if he really deserved her conviction. He hoped that he could live up to her faith, but he was not always sure he was capable of it.

Outside, Breana knew what her husband was up to as it was one of the many contingency plans they had discussed before entering the flooded jungle to seek out Bruxta Dorio. But this witch was an unfamiliar figure and who knew what types of wards she had in place to deal with visitors. As she prepared the canoe to leave, all she could do was stay on her guard in case the plan went awry. She kept telling herself that Jason could handle it. After all, Bruxta Dorio was one of his kind, sort of. And she really should not doubt him when it came to dealing with magic. But still, she could not help but worry. The unknown of dealing with a very old nixie in her own home caused chills to shoot through her body and raised goose bumps on her arms.

Once Breana was outside, Jason looked back to Bruxta Dorio and tried to look broken as he began to bargain. He was hoping she would be able to deal freer and have more faith in his offers now that the twins’ mother was not in the same room with them. He started, “Humor me. If I gave ya him for the salve” – holding out the squirming little bundle wrapped in swaddling clothes – “would ya promise to raise him as your own child and then once he’s an adult, would ya let him go on his way unharmed?”

Bruxta Dorio tapped her chin with a long, graceful finger as she pondered Jason’s counter offer. After a moment of thought, she spat and shook her head with disgust. She quickly snatched the bundle from Jason’s outstretched arms and started to unwrap it without care. As the wrapping fell away, the witch revealed what the bundle was hiding – a young, woolly monkey who started chattering when light touched his eyes.

“You would think to trick me?” She said with feigned distress that was thinly veiled over something more devious. “I invited you into my home, dealt with you fairly and you would do this? Now, I will have your blood and the bones of your lovely wife instead for your treachery.”

The woolly monkey struck the floor with a dull thud as Bruxta Dorio threw the bundle aside. Suddenly, she pointed a long finger at Jason and adjured in the ancient language of fae, “Shol cos!” Jason hoping her spell was targeted tried to dive away, but his heart sank when he heard the incantation. Immediately, Jason felt his muscles seize and burn as if all his limbs were clamped tightly in an iron vise. His entire body was immobilized to point where he could barely breathe as his chest became like stone. Her eyes blazed red as if hell was trying to pour through in rays of sickening light. “Don’t leave now,” she cackled. “I would be a poor hostess if I didn’t see to your wife too.”

Jason felt like a fool. Now that he was sprawled out on the offensive rug he could feel a magic circle powering the witch’s hex through the matting. She had played them from the start and that made him furious, especially since they were trying to play her! He and Breana had come prepared to trick her only to fall prey to her own tricks. Nonetheless, what was he going to do now? He couldn’t move a muscle and now Bruxta Dorio was preparing to kill Breana. He knew her magic wouldn’t hold him forever as it would eventually wear itself away as it lashed against his own magical essence. But he also knew that it wouldn’t happen soon enough for him to warn Breana. Being the only means left, he reached out with his mind to speak with Prometheus, the woolly monkey who he had been carrying for most of the day. 

Breana was outside still waiting for Jason when she heard a loud crash emanate from the hut. It was as if someone had dumped an entire drawer of silverware onto a large plate of glass. Immediately her body tensed knowing that something had gone wrong and that Jason might be in serious trouble. Even though her body was still not fully recovered from giving birth to the twins, she no longer had the luxury of heeding her physical needs.

 In one fluid motion Breana unlatched the scabbard strapped to her hip and pulled out a primitive but sharp, iron dagger. With as much caution as she could muster due to the adrenaline permeating her blood, she approached the hut crouched low to the ground. Her breath quivered as she peered around the side of the doorway feeling her instincts take control. Unexpectedly, what she saw when she looked inside was something that almost made her laugh. Several of the witch’s shelves were now lying on the wood planked floor and their contents scattered from wall to wall. The monkey that Jason had been carrying was free of the swaddling clothes and was now chattering on top of another set of shelves throwing bottles at Bruxta Dorio. She looked for Jason and she could see that he was lying unnaturally on the rug – an expression of surprise seemingly welded to his face. But, amidst the chaos, he was utterly, worryingly still. Worse, she could not even tell if he was breathing. The witch’s appearance was also very wrong. She was no longer the beautiful, ageless woman that she had seen earlier. Instead she was large, twisted and gangly with severely blood shot eyes. Luckily, Bruxta Dorio had not seen her yet since she was focused on swinging a mop handle at the bottle throwing vandal who seemed to believe he was playing a game.

 With the witch distracted, Breana rushed to Jason’s side, but he didn’t move or acknowledge her in any way. Without thinking she sheathed her dagger and started to drag him out of the hut. She didn’t remember him being this heavy but he was stiff as a board he was not helping her as she pulled. Only her husband could manage to gain weight living off jungle fare, she thought.

Without warning the faerie stove ignited a box of pungent powder that had been dislodged by the monkey and the fire quickly spread to the walls of the hut. Now that she had been able to drag Jason off of the rug, she noticed that he was slowly regaining flexibility and starting to move, but with the smoke and fire starting to fill the thatched hut, she kept pulling him outside away from the commotion, away from the fire and most of all, away from Bruxta Dorio.

Dragging Jason out onto the dock and then into the canoe, Breana could still hear what sounded like curses being shrieked while acrid, chemical smelling smoke bellowed out of the hut. She quickly decided to cut their losses and leave the witch’s hut behind. Maybe they could return when she figured out what was wrong with Jason. He was starting to move, but he still looked like a carnival animatron whose batteries were too weak. Temporarily ignoring her husband’s plight, she pushed the canoe back into the dark water surrounding the hut. She could feel that the heat was searing against her cheeks and it was nearly unbearable. They couldn’t afford to stay this close to the burning hut, so she jumped in and started to paddle until the heat was far behind them. But when she looked back, the hut, the dock, the fire – it was all gone as if the magic that had hid the hut from their sight earlier had reasserted itself.

Jason, aware that Breana had dragged him from the burning hut and into the canoe, gradually regained the use of his limbs and ability to speak. He knew Breana had done everything she knew to help break the curse that afflicted him, but he also knew that given enough time the magic would eventually fade. Consequently, his mood was dark and he was starting to brood even though he knew it was a waste of time. They had failed to acquire the Bai Tandros salve and as a result they were no closer to being able to perform the Ritual of Severing.

Sitting up in the canoe, Jason could see that Breana was taking a break from paddling. From the lines that still creased her forehead, he could tell that she had been worrying about him, but at the moment she was watching his movements closely and, knowing his wife, clinically. He finally broke the silence as he muttered, “Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that my plan was so – flawed.” he grimaced.

“It was not a total loss,” Breana responded trying to brighten Jason’s mood. “We did learn that if we had that special salve, the ritual itself would not be that hard to perform. Oh, and while you were out of it, your monkeys came back to the canoe and one of them was carrying this.” Breana held out a tiny jar of dark, viscous liquid.

“The Bai Tandros salve!” Jason shouted with a surprised grin.

Jason shook his head and marveled at how fate had directed their day. Unexpectedly, he had been right from the beginning even though he still did not believe it considering how nearly all of his plans had failed. But he had to admit to himself – his gift had been very useful today. They now had the Bai Tandros salve and all they had to do was wait for the next new moon to perform the Ritual of Severing on the twins. 

Jason and Breana knelt on opposite ends of a rough hewn canoe as they paddled through a swampy, flooded forest looking for a witch the locals called Bruxta Dorio.  Based on the legends of the indigenous locals and the likeness captured in their crude drawings, Jason was convinced that Bruxta Dorio was real and he thought she might be a nixie or another one of the faerie folk based on how the legends depicted her beauty and longevity. Of course he hoped she was one of the fae whose powers were anchored to the mundane world with little or preferably no ties to the royal courts of Faery. Otherwise, finding her would probably be for naught, especially if she were allied with Breandan.

As they floated through the treacherous waters, they were careful to duck under the constant assault of thick, woody vines and to watch for opportunistic snakes. It was not unusual for an anaconda to try to slither out of the water to investigate the canoe which could be quite startling considering their length and weight. They had to be especially careful with the precious bundles that were strapped protectively to their bodies. An anaconda could swallow one of the swaddling wrapped bundles whole if they had the opportunity. So, Jason constantly scanned for dangerous reptiles and other potential predators. He had already warned off a massive crocodile and a small school of piranha using his rare gift that allowed him to speak with animals. Of course speaking with animals was only a small part of the gift since it also allowed the animal to reciprocate his conversation and to perform simple tasks on his behalf. Now more than ever, as they navigated the thick jungle surrounding the Amazon River, Jason felt this gift was going to come in handy.

As evening approached, Jason could sense the uneasiness in Breana as she frowned and pushed a vine away with a little more force than necessary. Very rarely was the placid pool of Breana’s emotions disturbed by life’s unexpected stones, but her body was still hunting for equilibrium so soon after the twin’s birth which left the gate open for her inner wolf. Sometimes her werewolf temper could be a huge asset, especially in a fight, but tonight was not one of those times he thought. His heart always felt heavy whenever he saw her hurting or angry and he felt compelled to soothe the throb of her anxiety.

“Babe, just hang in there,” Jason said supportively. “I’m sure we’ll find the witch soon. And, if we have to sleep in the canoe tonight I brought plenty of mosquito netting and dried pineapple.” Wondering what they would drink, he looked all around the canoe and chuckled to himself. “And I don’t think we’re going to run out of water any time soon,” he said almost smirking.

“I thought you knew where this Broom Hilda lived,” she pouted unexpectedly. “I don’t think we should stay out here much longer for the twins’ sake.” As she spoke, she reflexively soothed the squirming little bundle slung in front of her with her free hand. She really didn’t think it would be wise to sleep in the boat, but she was happy her husband was showing so much tenacity. She knew he could be strong when he needed to be, but right now, she really needed him to be.

  Laying his paddle in the canoe, Jason pulled himself toward his wife until he knelt a few inches from her back. Breana, still frustrated, didn’t turn to face him. Instead she concentrated on how to best navigate the canoe around the current tangle of vines. Reaching out to comfort her, Jason traced his finger down the graceful curve of her neck until his hand rested on her shoulder. Succumbing to his touch, Breana closed her eyes and turned to press her cheek against his warm hand. He leaned forward and whispered calmly, “It’s okay, we’re goin’ ta find her soon, babe. I know it. Can we just keep lookin’ a couple o’ more hours?”   

Just as Breana opened her eyes to lose herself in her husband’s comforting gaze, both she and Jason tensed in shock as a ghostly ball of greenish light rose out of the water not more than a dozen feet from the port side of the canoe. As it rose, water poured smoothly off its gleaming surface without betraying anything unusual other than its existence. The ball of light was about the size of a large turnip and it moved haphazardly at first, but all the while it was inching closer and closer to their canoe. Cautiously, Breana reached out to touch it once it had drifted close to her, but the light retreated just out of reach as if some intelligence controlled it.

Puzzled, Breana inquired, “Have you ever seen anything like it? You don’t you think it’s a ghost or spirit, do you?”

“Maybe. Or it might be a will-o'-the-wisp,” Jason guessed. “In that case we shouldn’t follow it. We wouldn’t want to get lost.”

Suddenly, the ball of light began to writhe and expand while seemingly turning itself inside-out.  Within minutes, its surface rearranged itself and was replaced by the floating, incorporeal form of a beautiful woman’s face. This face was both large in scale and luminescent with eyes that blazed searing white, but for the moment it was expressionless as it stared directly at them. Jason thought he could see a hint of nixie in its features, but he couldn’t be sure if this was the face of Bruxta Dorio.

Breana gasped, “Uhm baby… I don’t think it’s a will-o’-whatchamacallit.”

Pulling Breana tighter against him, Jason quipped, “If she says she’s a ‘Great and Powerful Wizard’ please pinch me, okay babe?”

Before Jason could smirk or either of them could decide what to do next the brows of the woman’s face furrowed and a quaking voice demanded, “Why are you in my river?”

“We are lookin’ for Bruxta Dorio,” Jason answered. “We need her help.”

“And why faeriekin, would I want to help you?” The face questioned.

Now realizing they were talking with Bruxta Dorio, Breana thought she might be able to appeal to her as a woman. She pleaded, “Please you have to help us! Our babies are being hunted and we need your help to perform the Ritual of Severing.”

Hearing the desperation in Breana’s voice, a sly smile spread across the Bruxta Dorio’s ageless face.  “So” – drawing out the word as she pondered – “I suppose you love your babies very much. You might even be willing to do anything for them. Hmm?”

Jason’s mouth and eyes opened wide when he heard her say do anything. Holding his wiggling little bundle even closer against his chest, he pleaded with Breana by shaking his head dramatically to indicate hell no! Breana bit her lower lip looking between Jason and Bruxta Dorio’s face, but she had made up her mind. Ignoring her husband’s silent pleas, Breana looked into the burning eyes of the witch’s floating face and answered, “Yes. I would.”

As soon as Breana had pushed all their chips in, Bruxta Dorio’s face quickly returned to the blank, expressionless mask that she had greeted them with initially. She responded coolly, “Please, visit me in my home and we will talk more of your plight.”

As soon as her last word was uttered, her ghost like face started to glow brighter and grow larger and larger until its searing green light was blinding. With a final dazzling burst of pyrotechnics that illuminated the swamp for hundreds of feet in all directions, the light dissipated revealing a waterway to an unoccupied dock next to a stilted thatched hut that neither Jason nor Breana had seen before.

Jason whistled in admiration. “Nice trick! I need to learn that one. Can you imagine the look on Elfie’s face if she opened her refrigerator to a big ol’ glowing face?”

Breana rolled her eyes at her husband. Sometimes his faerie humor could really lighten the mood, but tonight was not one of those times she thought. “Jason, let’s concentrate,” Breana implored.  “I don’t want anything to go wrong so we need to be on our toes.”

Jason cringed. “Sure Bree. Let’s go.”

With her head propped on her elbow, Breana laid next to Jason listening to the sharp crackle of the campfire while watching Nessa and Liam who were finally sound asleep. A smile parted her lips as a gentle breeze rocked the russet wicker basket which soothed the twins as they slept.  She was satisfied the basket was hoisted securely by vines and out of the reach of predators and creepy crawlies. But, she lamented not having a real bassinet inside a bright, cheery nursery complete with a Diaper Genie and doting grandparents…

She sighed.—No, she was not going to go there. She and Jason had already resigned themselves to a different and safer future for the twins, so it was pointless for her to torment herself.  Instead she redirected her thoughts to imagine how her babies’ futures might unfold raised in families whose lives were worlds apart from hers and Jason’s.

As she thought about the lessons they might learn and the friends they would surely make, she was troubled by an unsettling thought. As much as she would have liked to concentrate on a happier notion, it nettled away inside her head until she felt a keen urge to ask her slumbering husband what he thought. She hoped he might have another perspective that might placate her concern.

Sinuously, she slid her leg over Jason’s and whispered softly, “Baby?”

Jason didn’t stir. She wondered whether she should have accidentally elbowed him instead. It always amazed her how soundly he slept even with the racket that always seemed to emanate from the jungle at night. Miraculously, he always seemed to wake straight away whenever there was a real emergency or when potential danger threatened their camp. But she really needed to speak with him even though she almost felt guilty for deciding to disturb him. Both of them hadn’t been able to get much sleep due to the twins’ erratic feedings. Regardless, she knew he would understand her waking him. – At least she hoped he would.

Turning her head so her lips spoke directly into his pale, slightly pointed ear, she whispered again – this time more forcefully, “Jason, are you awake?”

Jason drew in a long, slow breath and then exhaled abruptly. Groggily, he cracked one eye open and said, “Mmhm – I am now.” Now fully awake, he lifted his head to consider her face more carefully. Misreading her slight blush, he flashed her a playful, uneven smile, “Did ya change your mind about –“

“No, we talked about that, remember?” Breana gently interrupted. “It’s too soon, baby. My body still needs more time.” She sighed thoughtfully. “I wanted to talk with you about the twins.”

Crinkling his brow, Jason replied, “Uhm, is there somethin’ wrong? Aren’t they asleep?”

“No, nothing is wrong. But, I was just wondering…  Do you think they will fit in with their” – her throat tightened – “new families? I don’t want life to be harder for them than it has to, you know? I mean, how do you think Aillen’s family or Ammerie’s people will deal with their” –she paused awkwardly– “specialness?”

While rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Jason thought back to the difficult discussion he and Breana had earlier about sending the twins away to be raised by foster families. Being separated from Breana and him as well as from each other would make it that much harder for Breandan’s assassins to find them. So far they’ve thought of sending Liam to a loving family in Ireland and Ammerie Rain, a friend from Spauling, agreed to help by arranging for Nessa to be brought up in the Britlingen Collective. In either case, the children’s supernatural heritage might draw the wrong sort of attention, so Jason thought he understood Breana’s concern.

“You’re not thinkin’ they’ll become mimes are ya?” Jason joked. “‘Cause I really don’t think mimes fit in anywheres, ya know?”

 “No!” She giggled. “I wasn’t thinking they would become mimes. I was worried about how their friends and foster parents might react if they catch them talking to mice or birds. Honey, as much as I love you, most people don’t do that. You know that, right?”

“I do, but…“ Jason started to protest.

Worried she might have hurt his feelings she decided to change her tack. “And, it’s not like many people change into a wolf every full moon either.  Do you know what I’m trying to say?”

“That mimes really aren’t so bad?” He teased.

“No.” She groaned. “Mimes are totally hideous, but…”

“I do know what you’re tryin’ to say,” he grinned. “I really do. And that’s what I was tryin’ ta explain about the Ritual of Severin’ the other day. It’s supposed ta stunt magical abil’ties ‘til the age of maturity.”

Jason went on to explain in hushed tones about how faerie folk used the Ritual of Severing a millennia ago to ensure that changelings* would reach adulthood before their human foster parents discovered anything unusual. Also, the ritual camouflaged the changeling’s essence so even other fae needed a second look to recognize them for what they were. He went on to explain that the ritual had not been used for centuries so unfortunately he did not know how to perform it.

Breana worried, “What? – You don’t know how…”

He placed his finger across her lips. “Shhh… It’s okay,” he pleaded softly. “I have a plan in mind. Ya trust me, right?”

She took his hand in hers and kissed his finger. “You know I do,” she answered.

With that Jason pulled Breana close to him with one hand and covered them with a light, woolen blanket with the other. Spooning against her with his lips lightly brushing the nape of her neck, he unfortunately still had one more worry on his mind before he would be able to fall back asleep.

He sighed, “Ya really don’t think either of 'em will be become a mime, do ya?"

Breana grinned secretly to herself as she fell fast asleep.

*Changeling - a creature found in Western European folklore and folk religion. It is typically described as being the offspring of a fairy, troll, elf or other legendary creature that has been secretly left in the place of a human child. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Changeling

With a freshly killed boa draped around my shoulders and my heart heavy from having killed an innocent animal, I walk toward the dancing light of our campfire where I know Breana is setting up. While I’m a vegetarian, I know that Breana, my lovely wife and key holder of my heart, is pregnant, so she needs sufficient protein so our baby stays healthy as she develops. Fortunately, boa constrictors are not too difficult to find and kill. Though I am reluctant to kill for food, I know I must provide Breana with enough meat to steadily augment her diet of mangos, pineapples, bananas and roots. Of course before we went on the run Breana made sure to pack several bottles of prenatal vitamins and other medicinal potions, so I hope that her medical science will compensate whenever circumstance prevents her from eating as she should.

                As I walk out of the jungle and into the clearing of our campsite, I notice that Breana, her hearing always acute, looks my way. While I’ve grown to expect that, what I didn’t expect to see was the slightly pained expression on her face. With concern for her and my unborn child overwhelming me, I let the boa plop down next to the fire as I quickly kneel next to her.

                Before I can ask Breana what is wrong, she anticipates my questions as she whispers, “I’m so happy you’re back. The baby…” she exhales in obvious relief…  “he always seems to kick more when you’re not around.”

                Moving to sit beside her on the flat, moss covered rock I pull her into my lap and extend my hands around her belly. In unexpected unison, the baby greets my hand with a fluttering kick.

                “She’s strong. She’s going to be a fighter like her mom,” I whisper while smiling against the curve of her neck.

                Feeling Breana tense in my arms, I know she is reacting to my presumption that the baby is a girl. We’ve discussed this several times since we’ve left the Barry ranch behind and my explanation has always been the same – since we don’t know the baby’s sex I feel more comfortable assuming the baby is a she.  But just as Breana turns to protest, we both feel little elbows bump against her side like a gentle drum roll. Unexpectedly, I sense the baby through the aura of her faerie blood and for the first time I am surprised.

                “Babe!” I say with a grin. “We… we…” I pull my wife a little tighter against my chest… “we’ve both been right. You’re… we’re having twins – a little girl – and a little boy!”