The Cost of Freedom

“Excuse me, are you Jack Thorn?”

I turned around and there was a short, reed thin man staring at me with a timid look on his face, as if he was afraid I’d say no. Or was he afraid I’d say yes? I shrugged my shoulders and answered, “I am, and you are?”
He took a quick step forward, entering my personal space and making my defenses rise. His face gained a mischievous grin as he said, “My Queen wishes your company, if you’d just stand still a moment,” and with that he flicked his bony fingers in my face and I felt cold liquid land in my eyes.

“Hey! What is your problem?”

I rubbed at my eyes as a burning sensation went straight to my brain. My whole head felt on fire for a moment. Then, just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. I opened my eyes and looked around for the skinny jerk so I could punch him in the face, but he seemed to be nowhere in sight. The sound of someone clearing their throat made me spin around.

Suddenly I was face to face with an emaciated, green colored thing that resembled the man from before. His thin smirk was creepy on his face, complete with pointed chin and skin that looked stretched so tight it might tear at any second. He put a bone thin finger to his lips and when he giggled the sound was harsh and biting like rocks crashing into each other.

“If you talk to me now people will think you’re crazy. Only you can see me at this point in time. Follow me for answers, or stay here looking like you’ve seen a ghost. The choice is yours.”

After that, he simply walked away. I ground my teeth together and weighed my options. Follow the freak of nature walking away from me or stay here and freak out. I’d never done drugs, never hallucinated, and never made up fantastical stories. Where was this coming from?

I looked around me. The garden I was standing in had people milling about here and there. Tucked between the foliage and people were more things like the guy who had splashed my face. Panic was about to set in when I decided it would be better to follow him and get my answers than stand there staring. So, I broke into a jog and caught up with him.

We rounded a few corners in silence and ended, finally, in a small alcove secluded from the rest of the gardens. I looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to talk. He said nothing.

“What’s your name?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “That’s the first thing you ask? Not what I am but who I am? You humans amuse me. My name is unimportant.”

My gaze narrowed on his flat, emotionless black eyes. “It’s important to me. What is your name?”

He moved closer to me, almost touching his body to mine, and spoke in a voice so low I had to strain to hear it. “We do not freely give out our names. Remember that before you so rudely ask for one again.” It was then I realized a knife like object was aimed at my stomach and stepped back quickly. He continued, “However, if it’ll make things move quicker, you may call me Sage.”

“Okay, Sage, what are you then?”

He chuckled again, the sound grating on my nerves. “I am that which goes bump in the night. I am the nightmares your kind arrogantly believes they made up. I am the fear in a dying man’s eyes. I am the breath that raises the hairs on the back of your neck.” He grinned and it truly was the scariest thing I’d ever seen. “I am a Faerie.”

Against my better judgment, the corners of my mouth twitched, threatening to split open in a smile, or worse, to break out in laughter. “A fairy? Where are your wings then?”

His grin widened and it wasn’t so much a grin, as a bearing of teeth. I stumbled back quickly and realized that opening my stupid mouth may have been a horrible idea. Sage stepped toward me and talked in a hushed tone, causing me to lean closer to him in order to hear. “I am only sparing your life right now, child, because my Queen wishes your company. If you will listen to my orders we can be on our way and I can be done with you.”

Nodding, I stuffed my hands in my pockets and carefully kept my mouth shut. No point in adding any more tension to the situation then I already had.
He continued, “You are to follow close behind me as we approach her dwelling. You are to look at no one aside from me. You are to talk to no one but me until I introduce you to the queen. And most importantly, you are to do whatever it is she asks of you or else pay a heavy price. Are we understood?”

My brain seemed to want to explode. There were rules to seeing a queen? I was to do as she said? Wait. “Queen?”

Sage let out an exasperated sigh. “You think that because humans abandoned the monarch system all other species did as well? She does not pick stupid humans. Stop acting like one.”

This guy was really beginning to get on my last nerve. Attempting to avoid a pissing match with him, I nodded and motioned for him to lead the way. “I’m meeting a Faerie Queen, following your rules, and shutting up. Please… lead the way. I’d like to get home sometime soon and sleep off the headache you gave me.”

He laughed that horrible laugh and began walking toward a dense wall of bushes bordering the garden. The bushes began to appear translucent the closer we got to them, revealing an area of field covered in small mounds. Seamlessly I crossed over the threshold from my reality to the Faerie realm without realizing it.

I started to look around. The mounds were each covered in a different array of flowers and plants, effectively making each one unique from the last, like painting on a house. It was not what I imagined a Faerie city would look like.

A tap on my shoulder drew my attention away from the colorful mounds and face to face with red, beady eyes set deep in a face as black as night. Jumping back, I tried to stare at the ground, tried to avoid looking at this newcomer and follow Sage’s rules. It reached out for me, causing me to take another step back. My gaze swung up to its eyes again and I gasped.

“What are you doing here?” Sage bellowed to the left of me.

The new faerie walked toward him and I couldn’t help but watch.

“What is this?” His voice was like a hiss. When he spoke it was like something slithered across my skin and I shivered.

“This,” Sage pointed at me, “is for the Queen and therefore none of your concern.”
The pitch black faerie moved toward me again, hand extended, like he wanted to brush my hair out of my face. Sage had his dagger to his throat in an instant.

“You do not wish to do this, do you? Leave. And tell everyone else that he is not to be touched.” With that, Sage shoved him in the direction he’d come from and grabbed my shirt, dragging me along behind him.

I had no idea what had just happened. My head pounded as if it would burst at any second. Struggling against every instinct I had, I refused to look behind me where I was sure the other faerie stood. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a slew of colors approach us. What I assumed was faerie after faerie stood all around us, making a path for us to walk down. I was too scared to look to my right or left and see if my assumption was right. The memory of that gnarled black hand reaching for my face and the slithering words kept playing over in my mind and I was sure I’d have nightmares about it for weeks.

We approached an ornate building. It had all the same natural colors as the flowers on all the mounds, but it was an actual building. It looked like something out of a dream; arching doorways, decorative pillars, sloping roofs. I felt like I was looking at many buildings pushed into one space, as if it changed every couple seconds to become something equally stunning as the last.

A girl stepped out of an archway and swept a glance over both Sage and me, followed by a glance behind us. I stared, despite my earlier instructions not to look at anyone but Sage. She had skin the color of volcanic ash with elaborate black swirled designs covering every inch of skin. Her hair stuck out in every direction and looked brittle, like dead branches on a tree. Ash grey eyes made contact with mine and a grotesque smile split her face in two. I stepped toward her and the sound of a winter storm seemed to fill my ears. Only then did I realize she was talking. I tried to focus on the words but the sound was hypnotic and I felt drawn to her.

Suddenly, everything went black. I touched my face and felt a hard, scratchy hand covering my eyes. Just then, I was propelled forward and felt the ground below my feet change from spongy grass to a hard surface. The hand moved from my face and shoved at my back, making me move forward.

“I told you! I said do not look at anyone but me. That is twice you have disobeyed me!” Sage growled out at me. He sounded afraid and that confused me. I tried to ignore everything around me but it seemed the whole room I was in was made out of marble and the swirls in the material wavered and moved, changing with every step I took.

Sage gave me one last push and I was forced into a room that had red velvet covering the walls, blocking my view of the dizzying marble. The floor was covered in a thick black carpet that I had to strain not to reach down and touch. There was a gold and red throne on the other end of the room from where I stood and I heard a loud booming sound which caused me to spin around. Sage placed a hand on my chest and shoved me hard enough I fell on the floor, but I’d already seen large black and red doors in place of the entry way that had been there a moment before.

Panic started to rise into my throat and I scrambled to my feet, eager to be out of the vulnerable position on the floor. I opened my mouth to ask Sage what the hell was going on when a sound behind me made me stop and turn.

That was when I saw her. The most beautiful woman imaginable sailed gracefully into the room. She wore a white dress decorated in red and gold ribbons which the throne she sat in only helped to draw attention to. Her long black hair was in thousands of braids woven throughout her head. Strikingly beautiful green eyes bored into mine and I approached her without being told to. When she finally spoke it was a delicate, melodic sound.

“Jack, correct?”

I nodded in response to her question.

“I have a proposition for you.” She got right to the point. “I have heard you sing and-“

“Wait,” I interrupted her, “How?”

An impatient sigh escaped her lips, “How?”

“How have you heard me sing?”

She tilted her head in an animal-like way. “Faeries are drawn to music, especially the Queen. Anything beautiful, I hear. You’re a tenor with exquisite range. Whenever you sing, everyone in the room takes notice of you.”

Her attention was suddenly drawn behind me and I turned to see Sage inching toward the door. Looking back at the Queen, I saw her eyes narrow on his face, as if she was zooming in on him.

“Do not think you shall escape punishment. I gave you a simple order, bring him here and ensure he’s safe. You nearly failed at that. That will not go unnoticed.”
My eyes widened and I glanced back at Sage before saying, “Your… Majesty. It was my fault. I didn’t listen-“

A slender, white finger shot into the air, irritatingly signaling for me to shut up. “My proposition, if you don’t mind.”

I nodded solemnly.

“You have a wondrous voice and yet you have no inclination to seek out singing professionally, am I correct?”

“Well, yeah, but…”

She shook her head and continued, “I want it.”

“You… want my voice?”

She smiled, and it was achingly gorgeous. “You as well, of course.”

“But, what does that mean?”

Her smile turned into a grin. “I would like you to stay here, sing for me, and live forever as a Faerie singer. What say you to that?”

My brows creased and I shook my head at her. “I… can’t. Like I tried to say earlier, I don’t want to be a singer. I don’t want to strain my-“

She interrupted me yet again. This time, she leaned forward with a menacing look on her face. Her voice all at once beautiful and frightening, “I will not take no for an answer. You have two options. You stay and become my songbird or I take your voice and stow it away.”

“Stow it away? Until what happens?”

A smirk graced her lips and she placed a contemplative finger to her mouth. “You learn to play an impossible song or come to your senses.”

“Play this song on what instrument?”

Piercing green eyes roved over me and I felt like my very DNA was being analyzed. After a few agonizingly long moments she finally spoke, “Guitar.”

My jaw almost hit the floor. She picked an instrument I knew I couldn’t play. I’d been through lessons since I was five. My parents wanted me to play guitar, but it wasn’t in the cards for me. My reaction must have been expected because she leaned back with a satisfied expression on her face and waited. That determined it for me. I would not willingly become her singing slave. My parents wanted that from me. I would not let her control my voice anymore than I would let them. I steeled myself for what was going to happen next and spoke the words that would change everything.

“No. I will not sing for you. Ever.”

A moment of irritation flashed in her eyes before she closed them and put her hand straight out toward me. She curled a finger toward herself and I felt a strong, painful pulling sensation in my throat. It felt like someone was ripping my throat out and I began to scream. After a moment my scream wavered and died on my lips, though my mouth was still open and my throat still strained. And like that, it was over. The Queen held her hand closed, pulled a small bag from her side, opened the draw strings, and placed what I assumed was my voice inside. She made a clucking sound in my direction and motioned Sage toward her.

“You are to escort him out of Faerie and back to his world. Make sure he takes this,” she handed him sheet music she had pulled from behind her back, “with him. We wouldn’t want him to feel cheated now would we? After, you are to return here for punishment.”

She rose and began to leave the room. At the door behind the throne she paused and looked around it at Sage and me. “Oh, and don’t forget to tell him the rules of his silence.”

With that she was gone and I was left standing there with tears streaming down my face. Sage grabbed my arm and led me out of the room, out of the palace, and out of Faerie. I’m sure the trip would have been just as traumatic as the way in. But I was too self absorbed with my loss to even notice what time of day it was, let alone if anyone noticed me.

Back at the garden where this whole mess started, Sage handed me the sheet music. As I turned to walk away he put a hand on my arm, stopping me.

“I know that this seems like the end of the world. And later it will seem worse. I’m supposed to tell you the rules here. But you tried to save me and for that I am grateful. So I will simply leave you with this.” He pushed a piece of paper into my hand, nodded at me, and walked away.

I looked down at the rolled up paper in my hand and slowly unraveled it. Beautiful handwriting scrawled across the paper and I stared at it for a moment before finally reading it.

Look for her. When you find her, you find your voice.

Who was this ‘her’ he referred to? Shit, could he be any more vague? I angrily stuffed the paper into my pocket and stormed off toward where I had left my car. My brain was in overdrive, trying to formulate a plan. When I reached my car there was a guitar sitting gracefully in the passenger seat. That had not been there when I came to the garden for my afternoon jog. I opened the door, grabbed it, and read the inscription on the neck of the guitar.

Music comes from the soul and spills forth, leaving beauty in its wake.
Never doubt, never falter, never let your rock grow moss.


9 months later
It wasn't the faeries who had threatened me that first day or any of the faeries I'd seen since then that plagued my sleep at night. It was her. That painfully beautiful face and that radiant smile. Every night, when I tried to sleep, I replayed her graceful march into the room and her delicate voice. And every night I woke with tears staining my face and an attempt at a scream straining my throat.

That night I was sure it was more than a dream. Instead of replaying the events like usual, she pulled me into an embrace and whispered in my ear, warned me against letting anyone know what was wrong with me. Like anyone would believe me anyway. I felt a threat coursing through the dream, deeper than she was letting on, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Something she had said hid in my sub-conscious. An aching tremble took hold of my whole body, I was sure it was something important, something I desperately needed to know.

Wiping the tears off my face with the navy blue sleeve of my jacket, I picked up the guitar from the passenger seat and stared, yet again, at the sheet music. I strummed and plucked at the strings, adjusted the guitars position several times, and tried, to no avail, to tweak some semblance of a melody out of the instrument. After an hour of one cringe worthy sound after another, I threw the pick at the windshield. As luck would have it, it pinged off the window and bounced off my forehead.

I growled out a sigh and flung open the car door. I had been sleeping in my car for the past nine months, since I couldn't go home, and walked around the neighborhood I was parked in that week. A house up ahead was the only one on the block with all the lights on. As I got closer, a couple burst out of the front door, the man running ahead of the woman to unlock the car. I stopped several feet away from the house and watched as the woman painfully waddled to the car. I recognized that waddle. She was pregnant. The man helped her into the car and I moved closer to get a better look at her face. I heard talking the closer I got to the car.

“Honey, my water just broke. It’s not like she’s going to plop out right here on the sidewalk if you don’t take an extra second to breathe.”

“I know but…”

“No buts. You’re freaked out more than I am. Relax a little.”

“Relax?! My first born is on her way. My little girl.”

“Ours. Our little girl. And she’ll get here when she gets here. You having a heart attack won’t make her come any faster.”

I turned and walked back the way I’d come. Some people’s lives were just beginning while mine basically ended nine months ago. I didn’t want to stick around and listen to the happy couple any more. I didn’t want to hear anyone’s happy story. Maybe their little girl would grow up and be a good singer and happen to catch the Queen’s attention. And maybe then, she’d tire of my voice and send it back.

One could hope, right?