Angel on the Rocks

Moving Iris' clan to the New World

Iris sat on the top of a blade of grass, nibbling at a dark carob seed, while the wind tugged at her mulberry-purple hair. All about her, the fairgrounds should fill the air with the chaos of a party. Even last year the field hummed with the laughter of the fairy clans. She imagined the thousands of fairy-folk flying between the moldering wooden horses which hung listlessly from their tarnished brass poles. The sounds of their laughs echoed like ghosts in her memories. The arching frames of a greenhouse that no longer held glass curved above her, as empty as the meeting of her people. All around the decay of the fair spread, though Iris worried if this decay would lead to a rebirth or not.

None of the fey arrived, other than Puck. Even his clan hadn't been willing to face the monsters and angels to come to the gathering. Iris hoped the other clans were only in hiding, but she held a niggling suspicion that they no longer flowed on the winds of this world. She nibbled on her seed one more time, then cast it aside. How can my son rise to rule the four clans when only ours is brave enough to show their face in this realm?

Her gaze slipped to Puck, driving the melancholy from her thoughts. He sat with his hands on his hips at the top of the wide support of a black parasol. With its handle thrust into the dirt, he drifted to and fro as it turned on its pole with a metallic whine. The wind twisted his magenta hair like a child's top as he watched over the clearing.

Iris' fingers wrapped around the only thing she could promise him. Iris considered again staying on the continent, just to spend more weeks like this one. Chasing Puck about the fairgrounds left her lips bruised and her heart warm. They'd been erstwhile lovers over the years, as she had been with all the other monarchs. While he held a tender place in her heart, even seducing him had been with the intention of securing a joined throne for their son. A son made from the magic of all four of the seasons' monarchs.

Staying with Puck wasn't really an option. His clan even showed their cowardly stripes by avoiding this fair, she thought. Touching her lower back, she recalled her last encounter with an angel. It was possible that one might know enough to come to the fair, but she thought it unlikely. If I can get us to the New World, it is possible I can salvage my son's standing, find the clans, and keep us safe from the roving monsters in this land.

She tied her dress closed across her tiny middle, the spider's silk glinting in the light of the evening.

Iris flew to Puck, sitting next to him on the parasol. "I need to give you something," she began, slipping the dragon's tooth from around her neck.

"Dear," Puck replied, taking her hand. "No gifts."

She laughed, a carefree feeling she enjoyed only with him. "It is a symbol of my love, because I can't stay." And it will keep you safe as nothing else can.

He pressed his lips to hers, then from a whisper away said, "My dear, you are the finest of women. I'll bring it back to ye."

She kissed him one more time, and watched as he flew away to find the ever-diminishing clan of his people.

Iris took one more breath and turned to check on her clan. She checked on them all so many times more often than she had a century ago. Numbering them did not soothe the worry in her, though just now they slept. All five hundred of them. Too few. So many too few. There should have been four times that many. Some had gone missing, no sign of them at all. Others suffered the attacks of monsters, which seemed to creep out of the woodwork these days at a rate that worried even Iris. As a fairy queen, she should be unflappable, and yet here she was, seeking them out to count them again.

The Autumn Clan slept here and there tucked into the shadows of the rides that creaked and groaned in the winds, the sounds of their calm breathing like a spring breeze. As their queen, she could have smelled the lemon and copper scent of them even if they'd passed miles away from her.