Lost and Found: A Tale of the Tylwyth Teg

Chapter 15 - Damages Seen and Unseen

I was running on pure adrenaline. It wasn't easy getting the bird-woman into the VW, but I somehow managed to fold her wings around her. She was now moaning in an odd mixture of bird call and human pain, unmoving, but alive.

You're probably thinking "this crazy fool should be in shock!" There are two types of post-reactions to emergency situations. The first is when, right after the incident occurs, you go into shock – like my darling, brave Annie. The second is a focused, tightly controlled 'take charge' attitude when the shock is delayed, sometimes hours or even days later – like me.

Luckily the Vet's office was empty of any pet owners, and the receptionist confirmed my suspicion that others without Eldritch Eye would see a condor and not a creature from their nightmares. With a little help from the receptionist, I brought my prisoner into an examining room, and was told that the doctor would be with me shortly.

As soon as the door closed, the Teg opened her eyes and looked at me so intensely I thought she was assessing how many ways she could tear me apart. Instead, she spoke quietly, in a beautiful voice with a faint Slavic accent. "You not what our Queen say. You kind, not cruel. She lie." As she regarded me, her head tilted sideways at a very bird-like angle. Now that I looked, her face was stunningly beautiful, her hair a glossy black so dark it seemed to be a living shadow. "You not kill me. Why?"

"Because you are not my enemy," I replied truthfully. "For now, it is Gwyneth. And this Queen, I suppose. I brought you here to have your wing tended to. I don't think you can fly as you are now. I'll take you back to the house, and you can stay until you're healed."

"Thank you. My name Annika."

The Vet entered the room and was obviously not expecting a condor. It took a good deal of verbal tap-dancing to get him to agree to release Annika into my custody when he was finished – normally he would had to have called the State Department of Wildlife. Amazingly, he didn't charge me for the visit.

He'd given her a mild sedative, and while driving back I called the tile company and asked about my Onigawara order. They'd arrived yesterday. I pleaded with them to install them tomorrow, and after I'd offered them a sizeable bonus, they agreed.

On an impulse, I also called Frankie Tambini and asked him if there was anything needed to 'activate' their protective powers. He agreed to contact a Buddhist monk from San Luis Obispo to bless them and attune them to their location. I was having good feelings about that when I drove up to house and took my first good look at my property, post-siege.

I could only hope that the neighbors had neither seen nor heard anything regarding the skirmish while it was happening. The grass was trampled, torn up and burnt away in some places. Some trees along the perimeter had been toppled. Upon closer inspection, I saw tiny figures flitting between the blades of grass and flowers, green light streaming behind them. Everywhere their light passed over suddenly was restored.

As I opened the passenger door, a group of four-foot-high male elves took hold of Annika and began carrying her towards the house. And then, because I give orders to elves every day, shouted, "Put Annika in the guest room upstairs. She is a guest in this house, just like all of you!"

"Yes, Lady Lillian," said the oldest one, and as they went inside, Abe stamped his feet in the doorframe.

"Lady Lillian, we have a problem. Come with me," he pleaded.

It was Anne. Apparently, she'd been sleeping soundly for about 30 minutes, and then she literally leapt out of bed and went into her writer's den. As she was typing, she was also talking a mile a minute. I looked at her work, and it was gibberish, her hands flying across the keys, voice running a nonsense marathon. And did I mention her skin was an alarming shade of neon Day-Glo hot pink?

I couldn't stand the non-stop assault of words ringing in my head, so I spoke to Abe in the hallway, closing the door behind me.

"What in the name of Tinkerbell's tatas is this? And how can we help her?" I cried. I was very, very close to losing my grip.

"Her color suggests she was deliberately targeted by one of Queen Mab's elite soldiers. The hot pink comes from the flower this particular poison is distilled from. It's instantly fatal to humans."

This...I was not prepared to hear. Tears started to flow, but then Abe's last words hit me. "Wait – instantly fatal?"

"Yes, so much so that (if I remember aright) no one ever bothered to find a cure. That's the bad news."

"And the good news?"

"She's still alive. Which means that she must be part Tylwyth Teg. I can't promise you that..."

Didn't I say I thought she had a fairy godmother somewhere in her family tree? It was at this point that in the writing den Anne screamed: "GET OUT OF MY HEAD, YOU BITCH!" We opened the door and saw Anne standing tall and steady, smack in the middle of a small pink tornado.

"Impossible!" shrieked a deep feminine voice. It seemed to bounce off the walls, shake the remaining mobiles on Magritte's terrace and floors. "GET OUT OF MY ROOM, YOU BITCH!"

A wall of air flung Abe and I against the wall and knocked down the Domoviyrs, who'd come running upstairs in response to the first scream. Anne was now back to her normal skin color, and beside her stood a glowing figure of an old woman, small in stature but big in presence. The house walls, though, were glowing pink.

I knew what she was doing and joined her in her final verse. Completing her chant, she said firmly: "By the power of three, GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, YOU WITCH!" And there was a small sonic boom as my darling sent Mab's hot pink poison into oblivion. I took her in my arms and kissed her for quite a while.

Later, while having tea in the drawing room, I informed her about my day. This included telling her about (1) the tiled installation, (2) the Buddhist monk, (3) cooking dinner tomorrow night for Cambria's Teg head gossipmonger and the butcher, and (4) reminding her that the day after tomorrow was our first group reading of Bertha's Diary. Her sensible response?

"You know, Lils, I'd be fine if there were a dull day in-between wars, poisonings, and entertaining."

"Dull days are for dull people," I quipped, "And we, my dearest, are exciting people."

"Really? How about you show me how exciting you can be?"

Later that night I tried, but it was at that precise moment that Alwyn manifested on our bed, and promptly began snoring.