Swan on the Moor

Chapter 10

Aine froze as she heard the woman call out to her. How could she see her?! She was meant to be invisible against the bushes, no human could ever see her when she willed it so. The woman on the bank opposite was squinting through some eye-device at her, then dropped them and just stared at her – right at her – as if she could see exactly where she was. She was a tall woman, crouching at the bank of the river, and Aine had watched her begin to dip a little bottle into the water, studying it with pleasure, before she had glanced up and actually, actually seen her move. Panic stole over her, and her impulse was to run – but the woman would surely try and chase her. She was wearing large wading boots which implied she intended to enter the water at some point, and her expression was so curious Aine just knew she would follow her. Speed was not Aine's forte; it had never needed to be. She forced her nervy muscles to stay stock-still as the woman called out again, her voice confused, discomfited. Her eyes were flickering round the bush, trying to focus on Aine. She stared right into the shadows, this woman, her gaze completely penetrating. Barely breathing, filled with a strange urge, Aine, not even sure why she was doing so – walking into the hunter's range – stepped out into full view.

-

Even in the shock of the being before her, Jessie's practical, methodical scientist's gaze logged every detail. She – clearly a female – was perhaps the height of an adolescent, barely reaching 5 feet, but with the fully-formed body shape of an adult. Her hair was almost as long as her hips, and although it was tangled with brambles and leaves, it was fine, feathery and a startling shade of white. Her skin

was a mottled mix of colours, almost rippling as the light hit her, shadowing through the swaying branches and changing the highlights from white to brown to everything in between. Her facial features were strong and defined, set in a rounded little face, but her eyes – they were...the only word was 'bird-like'. Jessie could hardly tear her own eyes away from that half-animal gaze, all the stranger for the humanity, the emotions and thought, shining through. Yet the girls' whole posture was less human and more that of a bird ready to hurl itself away into the air at the slightest disturbance. The over-riding thought in Jessie's mind was, 'this girl is not human'. The lurid stories from 'Devon Life' flooded back into her mind, and she swallowed a hysterical giggle. Oh, heavens, she was hallucinating, surely. Too many hours on a train and not enough coffee. The harder she stared, the more present the girl seemed to become; more physical, more fleshly, more real. What was she?

"...hello?" Jessie ventured, keeping her voice even and gentle, the way you would towards a wounded or nervous animal. She extended a hand to show its emptiness, her lack of threat. "I...I'm sorry, I was just taking a study...do you speak English?"

There was a pause, and, haltingly, the girl spoke, her words edged with an odd, unplaceable accent.

"I...yes. My name...my name is Aine..."

"I'm Jessie," Jessie smiled, slowly and smoothly standing up and backing out of the water. "Would you like to come over? I mean no harm, I promise." A thousand questions urged to spill out of her, but this meeting felt almost like a dream – a part of her mind was willing to consider that she had not yet in fact woken up and this was all taking place in her subconscious, in cosy sheets in the bed and breakfast. Any other possibility was dizzying and too hard to think about seriously. So, she was dreaming of magical ghosts on the moor. She wouldn't be the first. The thought almost soothed her – this could hardly be real, after all. She stepped back, a little giddy with relief, and said, gaily,

"Why don't you come over?"

The faerie girl flinched, and her eyes scanned around the bank, clearly assessing Jessie's honesty, her potential threat, her status in terms of company. Sensing her words to be the truth – although, naturally, wouldn't they be? It would be a poor dream if she just ran off – the girl leapt lightly onto one of the flat rocks, then another, until she was in the middle of the stream. The water was splashing her, but running straight off of her skin – like a water-bird's. Jessie was fascinated and amused by her creation, but she backed up away from the river's edge to give the girl room to step off onto the bank. She jumped lightly and firmly onto the bank, and tilted her head.