See Me

CHAPTER TWO

BOARDING THE PLANE WAS SURREAL.

The four of us took our seats in the back row of first class. Thankfully it wasn’t a crowded flight. Three other passengers sat in the front, a good distance away. I nestled between my mom and sister with Mom by the window and Cass on the aisle. Dad sat in the aisle seat in the row beside us. I wondered if my father had somehow gotten them to fix the seating with no passengers around us so we could have privacy to talk.

My nerves flared when we pushed back from the gate and prepared for takeoff. I bit my lip to keep from screaming in anticipation. I was on my way to meet McKale! Crazy butterflies dive-bombed inside me. I’d been suppressing uncharacteristic psycho-girly giggles all morning, especially since my family seemed subdued.

I understood why. If I allowed myself to go down the path of how much I’d miss them when they returned home, leaving me in whatever situation I was in, my heart would break and my nerves would shred.

As soon as we were in the air Mom started acting strange, fidgeting, messing with her hair. I watched her stare distractedly out the window while Cassidy read a magazine on my other side. Mom’s hand drifted up to her throat and a look of nervousness crossed her face as she shifted her body toward me.

“There are a few things we need to discuss, Robyn. Let’s get our drinks and then I’ll glamour us so the flight attendants won’t pay us mind.”

Things to discuss? O-kay… What more could there possibly be to say?

When she leaned down to pick a piece of lint from the bottom of her brown trousers she shot a covert look toward my dad that screamed, Help! He raised an eyebrow of sympathy to her before shoving his face in a sports magazine.

Uneasiness invaded.

“Uh, Mom?” I said. She fiddled with her tennis bracelet and pushed her hair around some more. “Mom, what’s going on?”

She held a finger up at me and politely ordered a glass of red wine from the flight attendant. Cassidy ordered one as well, but Mom shook her head and Cass begrudgingly changed to ginger ale.

Mom guzzled the glass and ordered another. She sipped wine all the time at home, but I’d never seen her drink this fast. I eyeballed Cassidy who shrugged a shoulder. Once Mom had her second glass in front of her she whispered for us to pretend we were sleeping. The three of us slumped down into cozy positions with our eyes closed, and I felt the familiar static-tingle across my skin as Mom draped us with glamour. Now anyone who looked at us would see three people napping while we went about our business under the protective bubble of magic.

“Okay, Mom. You know how I feel about surprises. What’s going on?” My brain needed time to process things. She took another big gulp of wine.

“You know that McKale’s clan is of ancient roots.” She cleared her throat and proceeded to stutter and shift. “Far more ancient than ours. But there are a few things you’ve not yet learned about them.”

Oh no. Oh-freaking-no.

“What things?” My palms began to sweat as I watched her fiddling.

“Centuries ago, McKale’s people were specially chosen to receive magic because of their cobbling talents, er, shoemaking skills. You know Faeries love to dance, sometimes for weeks on end. So, naturally, they need new shoes often, and there are so many of them. Long ago, a country sprite brought this Irish clan of human cobblers to the attention of the Fae, who then offered to bless the clan with magic if they focused their trade solely on providing shoes for the Fair Folk.”

Cass leaned over. “McKale’s a shoemaker for the Fae?”

Mom nodded, but her eyes were too big.

Tidbits of folklore swirled through my mind, but a hard sense of denial set up camp inside me. It couldn’t be the same tale I was imagining.

“Who are they?” I asked.

“Hm?” Mom eyed her almost-empty glass. “Where is that stewardess?”

“Mom…” My heart pounded and I chose my words carefully. “What is McKale’s clan called?”

She wouldn’t look at me. The cabin space seemed to close in on me. It was forever before she answered in a cracking voice. “They’re the Leprechauns.”

“That’s not funny,” I said. Mom stared at her hands. She didn’t laugh or say, “Gotcha!”

I was going to suffocate. Cassidy gasped next to me and I flung off my seat belt, jumping up from my seat with my hands in my hair, breaking the magical bubble with a loud pop that only the four of us could hear. My father sat straight up, dropping the magazine and looking around with a hardcore expression of seriousness. My action had sent him into work-mode. When he was sure nobody had noticed he gave me a severe look that kind of scared me.

Mom grasped my arm and I shrunk down to the edge of my seat. I couldn’t look at her yet. My heart was banging and I could hardly breathe as I fought the wide expanse of emotion.

“Leprechauns?!” I demanded. The word tasted wrong in my mouth, like I was expecting a sip of water and drank lime juice instead.

Cass leaned over me. “As in, the Leprechauns?”

“Sh,” Mom said, looking around to make sure the people up front hadn’t heard. Then she chewed her lip as her eyes flitted to me, a horribly guilty expression on her face. I gaped at her.

I was not marrying a Leprechaun! Who thought that would be okay? A sense of betrayal overtook me, worse than any feeling I’d ever experienced.

“Hurry, pretend to sleep again,” Mom ordered. I placed my elbow on the armrest and leaned my head against my hand, closing my eyes. When I felt the shimmer of magic I couldn’t lift my heavy head. All my life I’d stayed positive no matter what, knowing if I allowed negativity to invade it would take over like a weed. All of my subdued fears and doubts surfaced like a blitz, ignited by my parents’ secrecy. I leaned my face into my palms and burst into tears.

Cassidy sucked in a breath, her voice warbling. “Oh, my gosh… Robyn? Mom, you made her cry!”

They both rubbed my back and smoothed my hair. Sobbing was demoralizing and humiliating. I wanted more than anything to stop, but my body wouldn’t cooperate.

“Shush, dear. Please don’t cry,” Mom crooned. “I hear he’s the tallest lad in the clan.”

Oh, no she didn’t.

I looked up through hazy, swollen eyes and choked out, “So he’s four feet tall instead of three?” Cassidy had the nerve to giggle.

“Maybe he’ll be the funniest and the sweetest wee man in the clan,” Cass said brightly. I shook my head in my hands and my chest heaved with another round of uncontrollable weeping.

“Don’t say wee man!” Mom hissed at Cassidy. To me she whispered, “There, there, love.”

“Flying shitballs,” Cassidy grumbled. “This is bad.”

“Watch your mouth,” Mom scolded. “You know I hate that word.”

“If there was ever a time that warranted the use of ‘shitballs,’ it’s now, Mom.”

“Och! For the love of all things holy, child. Attempt to filter what comes out of your mouth!”

Lost in my own anguish, I barely registered the bickering between them.

I’d always felt like an Amazon woman, standing as tall as the guys at school, and even taller than many of them. Next to McKale I was sure to be an absolute giant. How could my parents have agreed to this? I mean, I know it was important to keep the magical bloodlines alive so the Fae secrets could be kept in as few families as possible around the world, but still. There needed to be basic attraction between two people if they were going to bind their lives together and try to have children, right? Everything about this was wrong and unfair.

Impossible.

I took a deep, cleansing breath and sat up with a mild shudder. My practical nature raised its head, composed. Time to stop crying and get answers. I wiped my face and looked at Mom. My voice was thick.

“You should have told me sooner. I need more time than just a day to process something this huge.”

I wanted to keep going, to tell her off completely and make her feel the betrayal I was experiencing, but she looked miserable.

“Yeah,” Cassidy chimed in, rambling with indignation on my behalf. “Not cool. This is a major detail. I mean, how short are they anyway? Are we talking ‘sit on your lap’ short or ‘sit on your shoulder’ short? Because if he’s only a foot high I don’t know how anyone expects them to do it.”

Gah! Images of a Ken doll popped into my mind.

“No, no, it’s not like that.” Mom cradled her forehead in her hand like she did when a migraine was coming on. Something wasn’t adding up.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I yelled in frustration.

Dad cleared his throat and rustled the magazine, causing the three of us to turn to him.

“Or you, Daddy!” I wanted to cry all over again. How could they keep this from me? Why would they pair me with a freaking Leprechaun?!

He spoke without looking away from the pages, keeping his voice low so passengers a few rows ahead couldn’t hear him since he wasn’t in our magic bubble. “Don’t be so hard on your mother, girls. Perhaps we didn’t have much choice in the matter. The Fae can be quite… convincing.” He looked directly at Mom now. “You need to tell them, Cecelia.”

Cassidy and I turned to Mom, who nodded once before draining the rest of the wine. Her lips were stained light crimson. She pushed brown locks away from her face and I noticed a few strands of gray. Those were new.

“The Leprechaun clan is mostly made up of dwarfs, or little people—”

“Midgets?” Cassidy asked.

“Well, yes, but that word’s not politically correct and some consider it derogatory,” Mom stated. “Anyhow, in order to keep the bloodlines alive, the Fae gathered a sister clan of dwarf females in a nearby town and gifted them with magic in return for their agreement to pair up with the Chaun men. After all these years, for some reason the clans are not successfully reproducing anymore. There’ve been many miscarriages and stillbirths or babes who die young with internal defects. Some say the two clans have exhausted the variety in the bloodlines and there’s fear of accidental incest—”

“Ew!” Cassidy cut in. Mom ignored her and continued.

“They’ve kept thorough records of family lines, but it’s to the point where many of them are related as second cousins and such.”

“So, couldn’t the all-powerful Fae have found some other dwarf women in the world for them?” I asked. “Why did they choose a human?”

Mom sighed and looked at Dad who gave her an encouraging nod.

“Fifty years ago when McKale was born—”

Cassidy smacked the armrest. “McKale is fifty? Dude!”

“Cassidy Renee, if you interrupt me one more time you’ll be sitting with your father away from this conversation.” Cass grumbled but shut up. Mom looked back at me. “I’ve done a lot of digging for information over the years. Fifty is young by their standards. You know magic enables the Dightheach to live longer than usual. But the average lifespan of a Leprechaun is a thousand years because the magic is so engrained into their DNA.”

A thousand? Wow. My parents would be middle aged for a long, long time before they finally appeared “old.” They would probably live between three and four hundred years, which meant Cass and I would as well. Magical families had to periodically move and change identity to keep up the façade.

“When McKale came along there was a lot of talk among the magical people around the world. Supposedly he was the healthiest Chaun to be born in centuries. Some say he was gifted as a newborn by a Faerie of the night. Some say he was born without dwarfism, so the genetics that were hindering the other babies did not affect him.” A look of hope must have landed on my face because Mom shot me a cautious look. “It’s all hearsay, dearest. I wouldn’t get your hopes up.” She appeared regretful and my hopes sank again.

“Fact is, the Chaun and Fae both agreed that McKale was their best chance at strengthening the clan lines again, and they wanted a magical female whose bloodlines had never before been crossed with the Chaun. Your father and I were in Ireland seventeen years ago delivering our latest reports to the Fae when all of this talk was going on. I’d just given birth to you three weeks prior, Robyn. You were strapped to my chest in a carrier.” Her eyes went dark. “A Faerie woman saw you and laid claim.”

“What do you mean?” I shivered and rubbed my arms.

“Laid claim?” Cassidy asked. “That’s creepy. Couldn’t you tell her no?”

Mom’s chin quivered. “Leon, get me another drink, would you, love?”

My father nodded and pushed the call button. A minute later the drink was delivered. When the flight attendant went back to the server alley, Dad passed us the drink, down the line until it reached Mom. I’d never seen her drink like this. She downed half the glass before continuing.

“We tried. The Fair Folk are not accustomed to being denied anything and they’re easily offended. They see humans as dispensable, even magical ones like us. Let’s just say the Fae woman made a comment about you disappearing in the night.’”

“They threatened you!” My anger immediately switched targets from my parents to the Fae.

“Yes. I knew at that moment they would have you one way or another. Either we agreed to let you bind with the Leprechaun boy for a time, or they would steal you for their plaything. If that happened you would have been lost to us.”

“They can’t do that!” Cassidy’s eyes burned with indignation.

But they could, and we all knew it.

I’d only heard bad things about their race of creatures. Everything they did was for their own good. The humans who helped them, like my parents, did so only as a favor to humanity. They kept humans safe from the beings who thought so little of them. Mom laid a hand on my forearm.

“As a little girl you took the news of your binding so well. I was worried you’d be scared about Leprechauns back then. And then when you got older, I knew you’d be upset about the possible, um, physical issues. I wanted you to be happy for as long as possible, but I let too much time pass.”

I desperately wished she would have told me at the same time she told me everything else. Maybe I could have adjusted to the idea. Or, maybe not. Mom’s brown eyes were round and imploring as she looked at me.

“Well,” I said. “You did save me from being taken. That’s… something.”

She took my hand and we both squeezed.

“What if it doesn’t work out?” I whispered.

Mom wouldn’t meet my eyes. I looked over at my father and he stared back at me, offering no sign of false encouragement.

“We’re at the mercy of the Fae,” he said, keeping his voice down.

“In other words,” I stated, needing all the facts laid out, “they could kill us if I don’t want to bind with him.”

“Or take us into Faerie,” Dad said.

Mom closed her eyes and shuddered with disgust. I shared a sickened look with my sister.

“It will work out,” Dad said.

I wondered how he could sound so assured. A long, silent pause stretched while we soaked in the information and listened to the drone of jet engines.

“So, what’s it gonna be like there?” Cassidy asked.

“Your father and I have never been to their land, but we know a few people who have. The village is guarded with magical wards so humans who stumble across the land will become disoriented and retreat. The Leprechaun have another job besides making shoes. They also keep one of the portals to the Faerie realm. Their lands are vast, and they’re surrounded only by farmlands for miles. The dome of magic even keeps the village undetectable to anyone who flies over.”

“Are they expecting us?” I asked.

“I assume so. We swore to the Fae woman we’d bring you to the Leprechaun land when you were seventeen and completed your education.”

“How far is the nearest town?” Cassidy’s voice carried a hint of dread.

“At least an hour by car, maybe two.”

“Wow,” Cass said. “A giant farm with no tall guys. Sounds… fun.”

“Oh, I’ve heard the Leprechaun know how to have a good time,” Mom assured us. “Big parties with music and dancing.”

I shot Cass a glance, and nearly snorted at the funny look on her face. A Leprechaun’s idea of a good time was not going to be the same kind of song and dance we enjoyed.

“And they do have a cousin clan called the Clourichaun who live on nearby land. I understand there are quite a few average-sized men among them.” Cass waggled her eyebrows as Mom went on, slurring her words. “The Clourichaun lost flavor with the Fae, ahem, excuse me, they lost favor with the Fae a few centuries ago. I’m not sure what happened there, but they were cursed with infertility. What’s left of them will be the last of them.”

“That sucks,” I said. “They must’ve done something pretty bad.”

“Maybe that’s what I’ll do for fun,” Cass offered.

“What?” I asked. “Get cursed by the Fae?”

“No. I’ll get the lowdown on all the clan gossip. I’m not holding out any hope for cute boys, so I’ve got to stay busy.”

“I see.” We were semi-joking and I knew Cass was trying to get my mind off the worse stuff, but the air was still thick with discomfort.

“I’m good at being nosy,” Cass added.

“You certainly are.” Mom finished off her third glass of wine. “I’m knackered. I think I’ll go have a lie down next to Daddy.”

“You do that, wino,” Cassidy said. Mom leaned across me and pinched my sister’s thigh, making her holler and jump. Then Mom patted my cheek, warming me with the love in her eyes as she whispered, “I’m sorry, my sweet girl.”

With a heavy heart, I nodded.

Looking around to be sure we were safe, she snapped the protective bubble of magic and stood, wobbling on her way across the row to sit next to Dad. He watched, amused, and held out a hand to steady her until she was snuggled up in the seat by his side. He draped an arm across her and looked over at me with question in his eyes. I could almost hear his voice asking me if I was all right. I gave him a small nod; it would be useless for him to worry. His half grin showed that he appreciated my strong act, even though he could see through it. Dad lifted the magazine again and stroked Mom’s hair.

Cassidy rolled her eyes at our lovey-dovey parents.

I wondered if I’d ever be able to have that kind of adoration with someone. I wasn’t in a position to have such dreams and hopes, especially now. All of my romantic notions had flown out the window and landed somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, sinking hard, probably lodged in a continental drift by now.

I didn’t want to feel angry or cheated or tricked, but I did. I spent the rest of the long flight mourning the loss of the boy I’d foolishly allowed myself to envision for years on end. By the time we arrived in Ireland I’d said good-bye to the dream, and let him go. It was time to move on and face reality. Life was too short to wallow.

Too short. Ugh.