DRAFT SNIPPET

[Magdalena’s mother bargained away her first born child in exchange for assistance from the Fae. Now that Magdalena is an adult, they have come to New York City to claim her.]

Alessar gestured for Magdalena to go first when they reached the elevator. He followed her inside, hitting the ground floor button as he said, “We’re going to walk, of course.”

Her mind boggled at his easy use of technology. He even turned to face the elevator doors. He understood elevator etiquette. “How do you know about this?” Magdalena demanded. “Elevators and sunglasses and…” She trailed off with a rotation of her wrist.

He cast a glance her way just as the metal doors slid open to the lobby. “I was hoping you wouldn’t be like this,” he sighed, leading them past the stiff-backed leather chairs and fake flowers, toward the door.

“Like what?”

“Like your mother. Never ending questions.”

They stepped out into the cool New York air. The city was gray, overcast sky reflected in the windows of the skyscrapers. Rusty scaffolding canopied the sidewalk intermittently for blocks on end, blocking any sunlight that managed to eke its way through the clouds. Even the business people rushing out of the wind and into high-end restaurants were gray. Gray suits, gray expressions, gray backpacks and briefcases.

It was not how Magdelena wanted to remember a place she knew could be so alive, so she tried not to pay attention. When she recalled this life, she wanted to picture over-saturated fireworks bursting above the Hudson and colorful Christmas lights in Rockefeller Square. She didn’t want to see Alessar as the brightest spot in a utilitarian business-scape.

He paused at a corner, nose twitching. A rabbit picking up a scent. “Do you know what a fairy path is?” he asked before turning right down a narrow alley.

Magdalena shook her head.

“They’re passages, channels that connect all worlds. I’m looking for one to bring us home, but when we’re on them, I need you to keep your eyes closed.”

“Why?” Her voice held more than a hint of suspicion.

“Because the things you would see are beyond your comprehension. You can keep them open if you want to have a debilitating headache for the next year, though,” he said with a shrug. “Plus, you open your eyes, get led Astry and suddenly you’re who-knows-where, bargaining your future children away to some trickster in the woods.”

“If I keep them closed, will you tell me how you know about all those things.”

“That is no bargain, Magdelena. But yes. Here we are,” he said, indicating a hole-in-the-wall tourist trap, the kind that sells I Heart NY t-shirts and Statue of Liberty foam hats.

[on the fairy path]

“How much do you know about fish?” he asked, out of nowhere.

Magdalena shrugged, which was surprisingly difficult to do while walking with her eyes closed. “Like pet fish?”

“Sure.” He grabbed her elbow and steered her to the left. The ground beneath her feet felt spongy, like walking on gymnastic mats.

“I don’t know. As much as the next person, I suppose.”

He hummed beside her. “Okay, have you ever had a pet?”

“In a New York apartment?” Magdalena responded incredulously, fighting to keep her eyes closed. “No. I’ve had a plant.”

“That works. Different types of plants need more light than others, right? Some need less water or more nutrients. Some climb, some hang, and so on.” When she doesn’t respond, he prompts, “Correct?”

“Correct.”

“So, you know quite a bit about plants—how they live, their environments, which ones might be poisonous, which ones can be used for spices, what kind of pot suits them best. How much do you think plants know about you?”

Magdalena laughed. “What?”

“How much do plants know about you?” he repeated calmly. “About humans? How much do zoo animals comprehend about zookeepers? Or cats of their owners? Fish?”

“I don’t understand. Nothing? They don’t comprehend anything about us.”

“Yes, or very little. You know how to interact with them, about their worlds and their habits. But their conception of existence is so narrow that they don’t know much about you at all. They might just see you as… part of their environment.”

“Okay?”

His voice grew louder as her leaned down to her ear. His breath brushing her neck. “You are an animal, Magdalena. We—the fae—are the humans. We understand you, pacing your enclosure. We take things that we like from your world. We add toys and trinkets for you to interact with, statues of deep sea divers in a child’s fish tank. But you cannot see past the glass walls.”

Magdalena opened her eyes, thankful for the crunchy t-shirt that blocked her vision. “I don’t like that.”

Alessar chuckled. “How do you think the fish would feel, if they knew their keepers had keepers?”