[Finding Fair Fairies]

[Finding Fair Fairies

Written By J. J. Bartel. 

PG-10, History, Renaissance, Dark, Fantasy, Funny, Fungi  

Copyright 2024

 

In the near future, there was a Renaissance fair after the winter snow but before the summer heat. Tourists with modern clothes and phones snapped pictures among those dramatic acting folk with poofy sleeves, pompous pants, and elaborate scarfs playing out their characters. There were also historians dressed up as historical figures or someone from a time-accurate outfit. Asking them about a vambrace or a buckler, they wore would start a lengthy discussion and a fight at worst. Food sellers from local places, large chains, or thematic travelers were a welcome sight, and the peddlers selling their local or artistic whare to the fairgoers were wonderful to see. The last group often drew the most stares and side eyes. These mystics dressed as fairies, sold chrystals and cauldrons, wands and dice, and played folk music on instruments that most would never see again. One gypsy played an old haunted tune, and one of the crowd was Pheobe. Dressed in regular modern clothes, one could miss the cheap plastic constellation earrings or the bracelet made of wooden beads with carved runes. The well-worn purse contained bits and bobs, scraps, and thing-a-ma-gigs that would undoubtedly earn a gypsy’s respect. Some gypsies might even tell secret stories that only gets whispered to family. Perhaps that is why Phoebe dragged her friend Ruth off to the edge of the hilly forest as the nearby sun was setting on the fair. 

Ruth asked between bites of a chicken hand pie, “So, are you sure this won’t be another closet weasel Bee? What are you breaking this time?”

Phoebe winced as if struck but tried to play it off. “It’s not like last time or the time before that. This is real. The gypsies that come here yearly told me a tale of her friend. She was fighting with magic for the love of her life, but she lost. Her magic remains, and a fairy dances among the fairy circle. Leave a trinket and a wish may be granted.” 

“So we want to get a wish?” 

“No, we will leave a trinket to catch fairies on video!” She whipped out two cameras. “Between these and our phones, It will be great!” 

Ruth finished the small pie and said, “Alright, let me get one of “ye old root beers” for us, then  let’s find this place, set up cameras, and have a girl’s night out.” 

They walked for over ten minutes before the oaks and maples gave way to birch and aspen trees. There was a clearing as if burned away, and amidst it was a circle of beige, grey, and brown mushrooms around the edge. The two dropped their trinkets and almost dropped their root beer mugs in surprise, for it looked natural and artificial. 

Phoebe asked Ruth, “Are you seeing this?” 

Ruth said with wonder, “Yeah, this is the largest ring of mushrooms I have ever seen.” 

A new voice said, “Stonecaps do up this time of year.” 

The girls screamed, and the new voice screamed, too! Everyone fell back, and in the dimming sunlight, the two teenagers could see someone, a man with a rustic bright red beard and no taller than their knees. 

Ruth said, “Who, what are you.” 

“It’s a fairy!” Phoebe started to shout, but the bearded one pinched his fingers together, and she immediately became mute. 

“Not so loud!” he whispered. “Noona don’t want me sneaking out.” 

“But,” Ruth stammered, “I thought fairies had wings.” 

“Oh, mia mia, don’t be so silly.” He stood to his height and gave an elegant bow, “My nickname is Snicker Nicker. Not at your service.” He tipped his beaten, floppy top hat, and a gentle wind came from the hat. It grabbed the two trinkets along with the small spying cameras. They drifted into the hat, and he put it back on his head, with the hat still looking floppy. “Humans these days have odd ideas about what fairies are. Don’t group those bugs and I together. I have thumbs.” He said, giving both of them a thumbs-up sign. 

Phoebe asked, “So the old tale is true? Will you grant us a wish?” 

Snicker Nicker started snickering, “No, Mia, Mia, but you granted my wish. I wanted another trinket for my collection.” 

The two teens said, “But-” 

“No butts, I already have one!” 

“Not for long!” A new voice said. One of the mushrooms grew and formed a woman, smaller than Snicker Nicker. While smaller and looking harmless, with more wrinkles than flesh, that did not stop him from falling on his bottom and panicking, gasping for air. 

“Noona, what are you-” Slap! He could not finish as she smacked the hat off his head and started smacking him repeatedly. The slaps did not look like it was hurting him but were overwhelming him, and he quickly started crying. While this happened, Ruth pulled out her phone and began recording the scenario. 

“You silly boy.” She rasped. “We are protected in the pew house. This time of year, the gypsies go out hunting for fey folk to enslave for their nefarious schemes.” 

“I don’t want to eat the wafers any more.” 

“I help make those wafers. Ungrateful boy! You will be the death of me.” 

 

A pile of salt dust exploded out from the shadow of trees. The fey began to kneel and shake as if they were having a violent seizure. A gypsy woman emerged like a black mamba, pulling out a greased iron collar, and putting it on Noona’s neck. She set another chain on him while he was sputtering from the salt.

“It’s still true.” She said in awe, “My instincts were right. You still can catch a fairy with salt and bacon fat on the collar. 

“This tomfoolery?” Snicker Knicker half asked half shouted! Noona gasped for air. “You again? Was taking Gouda Grin enough?” 

“She gave me power and ended my rival. Yes. However, she no longer lives. My husband wants to leave me because I can’t renew the seduction magic without fey blood. You two will do nicely.” With a twirl of her fingers, she flicked open a butterfly knife, shimmering its silver blade in the twilight. While she knelt, bringing the knife to the fey noona’s neck, Ruth and Pheobe felt fear. However, as Pheobe watched, her fear changed, morphing into anger. Somewhere in her mind, she felt angry that the fairy wouldn’t grant her wish, furious that they got hurt, angry that this gypsy would ensnare this fey to trick her husband, angry that love itself was being tricked. She was so angry that she grabbed her root beer float cup and chucked it at the gypsy. It soared through the air and hit her on the head. The cheap plastic glass cracked on impact. It was the gypsy’s turn to fall on her butt from surprise. She started bleeding from her head. 

Her late forty-year-old face was turned to a grimace, and she rushed for Pheobe with the butterfly knife. Pheobe was so scared that she turned around and started running. Fear and panic gripped her mind; every time she looked behind her, the sure-footed gypsy was gaining on her. After running a minute, she tumbled into the same mushroom circle with the burned-away clearing. She tripped over a tree root and fell to the ground hard. The wind knocked out of her. She struggled to breathe as she felt a hand grab her and yank her back. Long fingernails scrapped her scalp. 

A voice behind her said, “I can’t have another know of fey magic.” She felt the last of the sunlight begin to disappear. The last of the lights made the butterfly knife look like hot silver. She then heard a swoosh and a furious crack. Everyone and everything seemed to fall to the ground. She rolled over and scrambled on her hands and knees to see Ruth with her now cracked root beer cup. Phoebe looked back and forth at Ruth, then at the slumped figure. 

 

Ruth shrugged and said, “It’s twilight. She didn’t see me in the trees, I guess.” 

“Well, salt and iron,” Noona rasped. While you played bait, your friend freed us. Thank you, mortal.” The grandma Fey bowed her head. Forget us, and we wish to live in peace.” 

Ruth said, “What about her wish? Can you grant Bee’s wish?” 

Snicker Knicker said, “We don’t grant wishes; that’s how humans catch us.” The Noona smacked him gently upside the head, and he rubbed his head in mock pain. 

“You brought comeuppance to my daughter’s tormentor. We can hear you out, little dearies.” 

Phoebe pulled out some broken pieces. “I broke this wooden puzzle trying to catch a closet weasel. It’s Ruth’s family heirloom and irreparable.” 

Noona looked at Ruth, smiled, and snapped her left hand three times, then her right hand once. The mushrooms turned from a dark brown to a bright orange, a pale grey to a shimmering green, and the white turned to a purple that seemed to pulse with life. The wind lifted the pieces into the air. Jade sparkles began to form on the pieces, and some dust from the wind turned a bright neon orange. There was a quiet cracking, and the wooden puzzle floated into Pheobe’s hands, which was fully repaired. 

Snicker Knicker, jaw agape, asked, “Hey, when do I learn how to do that?” 

Noona said, “When you learn to stop sneaking out.” She snapped her left hand once more, and the two disappeared.

There was no more sunlight, and the full moon with shimmering stars lit the night. The teenagers could hear the nightly festivities of the Renaissance fair.  

Ruth said, “Thank you.” 

Phoebe looked at her and smiled, holding out the heirloom puzzle. She said, “Thank you, bestie.”