I sit on my bed, staring at the curtains. I've already ruined so much. I cost Karyn her life... not to mention the others. All for my own stupid, selfish desires. What if Malcolm's right?
"Penny for your thoughts?"
Speak of the devil. I turn around to see Malcolm as clearly as day, as if the light from the open door bends around him, and I mumble, confident he'll hear it, "I really fucked up."
"You could put it that way," he agrees, smiling a tentative, fragile smile that fades as he speaks again. "If it makes you feel better, you're far from the first person this has happened to." He leaves an unspoken end hanging in the air. But you could be the last. Maybe it's just my imagination.
"So why am I supposed to believe you?" My voice raises, not to normal volume, but close. "You haven't offered a whole lot of proof about who you are. I could fix everything with one wish, and all that stops me is the word of some guy who offers nothing but vague, cryptic bullshit."
Malcolm looks wounded. "Alright. What do you know about the Sidhe?"
I raise an eyebrow, but slip my discarded shoes and socks on, picking the rock out of my purse as I do. "You better not be lying to me. Walk with me." With that, I make the trek downstairs, glancing at the clock first. 2:20 already. When we're out of the house and walking slowly down the street, I continue. "They're an Irish myth, aren't they? The fair folk. They stole babies out of their cribs at night, played tricks, stuff like that."
He laughs a bitter, barking laugh. "Sure. This myth," he says "myth" in the same way one might utter the name of a hated enemy, "is entirely real. They existed. Still do, but they leave us alone now, and in return, the Irish still pay them tribute. No one else in the world knows about them, not for sure."
I nod, looking right ahead and speaking softly. Everyone already seems to think I'm a slut. No reason for them to think I'm crazy too. "Uh huh. This is really convenient, but go on."
"Centuries ago, they were out in force in what today you call Ireland and Scotland. Appearing to humans and offering deals, stealing children as you said, just generally shaking things up. But the humans were no better. Trapping pixies and brownies and forcing them into servitude, boons from the lesser fae, even slaughtering them for minor gain... or for fun." Malcolm stares straight ahead, far off into the distance. "Saint Columba changed all that. I don't know what you know about him... but it's wrong too. He wasn't a missionary. He fought against Christianity. Wouldn't you, given solid proof against it in the form of the Sidhe?"
I shrug and begin to answer, but he doesn't seem to want one, talking over me. "He and one of his most trusted devotees went to the hills unarmed, to speak with the Sidhe. He offered peace; peace on both ends. Neither would hunt, steal from or trick the other. They exchanged gifts to seal the deal. The Sidhe asked for one child from every generation." He pauses, staring right through me with terrifying, haunted eyes. "Can you guess what we asked for?"
"The stone," I reply without hesitation. Malcolm nods.
"His devotee was only a child, only ten. He was the one to ask for the stone," Malcolm explains, speaking the next in a mantra burned into memory. "'All of our hearts' desires, so we need no longer ask favors of you.' That's what he asked for. The Sidhe gave Saint Columba a stone, and said that he or anyone else need only speak their desire, and ask for it. There, right after, they took their first changeling. The boy who asked for the stone."
I whisper, horrified despite myself, "You." He only nods, face set in grim, deep lines that make him seem many years older. "So this was made by faeries. And you're a changeling. That's half-faerie, right? So why are you watching it?"
He shakes his head. "I can't tell you that. Even telling you what the stone is was... a stretch."
"I'm gonna regret believing you, but for now... I do." I sigh. "I'm still going to try to save Karyn."
"I understand," he whispers, pained, and the next time I look, he's gone. Clutching the stone tightly, I walk back home.
