Song of the Magicicada

"Hurry up, will you?"

The basket of vines dropped so fast she almost flew out, but when she neared the ground, it slowed and settled gently on the moss. She bounded from the makeshift elevator, chancing a glance over her shoulder to see a large swarm of faeries headed her way. They looked more angry than she cared to deal with. She waved the golden scepter, sending a gust of wind that scattered them into the woods. Then she ran.

At the top of a rise, she could see the sparkle of late afternoon sunshine glinting from the water. The pool might as well be on the other side of the world. She would never be able to run fast enough to get there in time. The sun was already too low.

"You there," she called to brightly colored finch. "I'm getting out of here and you're going to help. Take me to the water." She waved the scepter and the bird complied. It landed beside her, allowing her to climb on its back before it took flight. It landed near the falls.

"Thank you," she said as the bird flew away.

The rock upon which she stood was not so tall. She would be able to jump to the water from there, but the tunnel to her home world was another matter. It was not likely the rainbow fish would be willing to help her escape. Her only hope was the catfish, but what if he truly meant to eat her?

As if summoned by her thoughts, the giant fish surfaced below her. He looked up at her, waiting for what, she didn't know.

"I wish you could talk," she said.

The pink stone in the end of the scepter glowed again. The great fish opened his enormous mouth, stretching it wide to emit a tiny sound. The voice was human. He snapped his jaws shut once more, the look of confusion in his eyes giving way to relief.

"I can't believe it." His words had the sound of rusty hinges to them, with a faint brogue reminiscent of Sean Connery. "Finally, a chance to tell that witch what I think of her for doing this to me."

"What are you talking about?" Circe demanded.

"The faerie queen—the witch left me like this so long ago, I nearly forgot what it was like to be human."

"You mean you weren't always a fish?"

"No, lass, I'm a man, a human man. I wanted to warn you about coming here."

"If you knew what a bad place this was, why did you bring me?"

"I didn't. Those fish henchmen did, if you recall. I only helped when I saw you were about to drown."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, leaning low over the water. "I was hoping you could help me get away, but I guess I should turn you back into a man."

"Don't be daft. If we're both human, we'll never get out of here. You just bring that magic stick with you and we'll get back to normal on the other side." Then he turned his head as if to see her better. "Whatcha got in that other hand, lass?"

"My life flower, that's what they called it. I think its dying."

"Just as I thought, you let that prince fella have his way with ya, huh?"

Her chin shot up defensively. "It's not like I had a choice. They tied me up!"

The fish shook his great head, "Can't abide anyone forcing himself on a woman. Whatcha plan to do with it?"

"Take it with me, of course."

"You can't, lass. It will die in the human world, and so will you. You have to hide it so they don't find it again. And while you're at it, hide mine, too. I'd consider it a great favor."

"Where is it?"

"Under that ledge, yonder." The catfish jerked his head in the general direction of small ledge. "The witch put it there, just beyond my reach, wanted to make sure I knew she could do me in any time she wished, the temptress."

It took a few minutes for Circe to climb over rocks to where his life flower was hiding. When she saw it, she marveled at how like her own it was. Though larger than hers, its purple was nearly as deep in hue, but the tips were tinged in bright yellow. Beyond those small differences, it was a lily, not unlike her own. She wondered if all human life flowers were lilies.

"Get it quick, lass."

Her hands were full. How was she going to take both flowers away? "I don't know what to do."

"Well, do something. If you don't hurry, it'll be too late. We only got until sundown, then the door will close for another thirteen years."

"I know what to do," she said.

"Whatcha got in mind?"

"We're going to hide it in plain sight. They can't take what they can't get to, right? I'll encase both of them in glass that not even their faerie magic can break."

"How you gonna do that?"

"I can make this scepter do anything I want." She waved it at the flowers, telling the wand to create an alcove in the rocks behind the waterfall. The flowers floated into place and she waved the scepter again. A shower of clear crystals rose from the bottom of the pool, forming a wall in front of the lilies. "Let no magic penetrate this wall and a curse on any who try." A jet of pink flames sealed the crystals in place.

"I sure hope this works," he said.

"It will. I have faith. I wonder if I can take the scepter with me."

"We'll soon find out," the fish said. "Better jump on my back, lass. They're a-comin'."

Circe had failed to notice the growing song of the cicada. She looked to the skies; saw the clouds of insects and faeries. They blocked the fading sun, casting shadow where the shade of trees didn't reach. Gripping tightly to the scepter, she dove to the water below. The catfish swam beneath her, lifting her up for a breath of air.

A rain of fireballs zipped toward her, one narrowly missing her head. The fish pulled her under as she clung to his dorsal fin. He swam furiously for the cave as bolts of pure energy pierced the water. The force of water dragged at her hair and body, tearing her grip loose from his fin. She slid from his back, falling through water as air escaped her lungs.

From nowhere, the two colorful fish arrived. They were on her in a second, driving her deeper into the water. She tried for the surface, only to find herself tossed back down again. She was weakening, starved of oxygen, desperate to breathe.

The big catfish saved her again, his great mouth gaping wide and barely missing one of the hench-fish. With the other two scattering, he took Circe in his mouth, gingerly lifting her for a breath. She gasped and gagged, clutching at one of his whiskers. In her free hand, she still held the scepter, something she marveled at after such an attack.

Through the trees she could see the bright hues of pink and gold, cast by the setting sun. "We don't have much time." Her voice was almost as rough as that of the catfish. He grunted a warning at her and released her in the water.

"We go now," he said. With a swish of his tail, he sprayed a column of water at the approaching faeries. "Get on my back, and this time hang on."

Taking three hard breaths in rapid succession, she held the third and grabbed his dorsal fin again. He raced through the water, taking them deeper into the darkening pool.

Unfortunately, the rainbow-colored fish had regrouped. They chased after the two, trying to block their escape. The catfish proved to be too big for them. He barreled through them, sending them spinning into the darkness below.

He was going too fast, nearly slamming her head into the roof of the cave. Circe glanced back to find no light behind her and realized the cave was closing. If they didn't hurry, they would be entombed.

The catfish swam on, aiming for the scant light ahead. He dodged shadows of rock, causing her to lurch on his back and almost lose her grip. She held the scepter up, imagined light coming from its glowing pink stone and illuminated the shrinking cavern.

The scepter was smaller in her hand. Looking down, she could see the fish was half the size he was before. He was struggling with the burden of her on his back. Still gripping his fin, she slid off, kicking her feet to aid his efforts. He continued to shrink until he was a quarter the size of her body.

Her trip through the cave was returning her to her normal size. She was forced to release the still-sizable catfish lest he tire and be unable to escape. They swam side-by-side as she continued to grasp the dwindling scepter, using its light to guide the way.

Her lungs burned and it occurred to her the amount of air she'd taken before entering the cave did not expand with her growing body. It was not enough to carry her. With a finally desperate burst of energy, she passed the catfish and broke free of the cave. Kicking furiously, she made it to the surface and the sweet air above.

"Home," she whispered between gasping breaths.

Indeed, everything here was its normal size. Cicadas still flitted about, but they weren't swarming as before. Her favorite perch beckoned, easily accessible with her normal-sized body. She pulled herself out of the water, lying on the rock like a beached whale, unable to move until she recovered.

"Feeling better?"

The voice belonged to the catfish, its rich brogue somehow thicker than before. She rolled to her side to see her new friend smiling up at her. She smiled back, offering thanks for his daring rescue.

"Much better, thank you. I'll never be able to repay you."

"You can repay me by giving me back me legs," he said as splashed water at her. "I want to feel the earth beneath me feet once more."

She gasped, hauling herself up to a sitting position. "Of course! I'm so sorry. I nearly forgot." She stood on shaky legs, holding up the scepter, which was now about the size of a pencil. "I wish you were your natural form. Uh, change back to the man you once were."

There was the now-familiar tingle of energy as the little wand began to glow. The fish was alight with glowing particles, his body lifting slightly before sinking to the bottom of the pond.

Circe dropped to her knees to peer into the water. She couldn't see him in the last rays of the sunset. Waiting was interminable. She refused to move from her post as her tired flesh began to shiver despite the still-warm spring night.

Her teeth were chattering by the time she caught sight of something in the water. It was something white, as pristine as new snow, rising to the surface less swiftly than she would have liked.

She was afraid the man was too tired, too weak to make it. Just as she was about to plunge in after him, he broke through the water with a growl. He splashed her face and shoulders, causing the chill to grow. He barely made it to the great rock, falling beside her to gasp his first breaths of pure air.

He was a startling sight. His long hair was pure white, his face partially covered in a sparse beard and mustache as long and white as his hair. His face, although rugged and handsome, showed age, but how old it was impossible to tell. It wasn't wrinkled and lined, but weathered by sun and years. His body was one a young man would envy—strong, lean and sinewy, much like the fish's had been. As her vision explored lower, she snapped her attention back to his face in embarrassment. The old man was sporting an erection that nearly had her mouth watering.

It had to be the drug the faeries had fed her, she decided. That last swallow she'd taken had left her wanting. Soon it would subside, or at least she hoped it would. Then her thoughts turned to his unusual facial hair. It brought a giggle to her throat when she realized how like catfish whiskers it was. She wondered if the mustache was as sensitive. Again she laughed.

"What's so funny, lass?" he asked.

"You still look like a catfish," she said.

Her grin was infectious. He lifted a strand of facial hair and laughed. "It's good to be human again. I hope me legs still work." He took a long look at her. "You're shiverin', child. Come snuggle up to me and we'll get warm together."

When she cast a pointed glance at his protruding cock, he grinned again and sat up. He did his best to hide his predicament, but finally gave up trying.

"I'm afraid it's a lost cause, lass," he said. "It's been a long time since I had the chance to gaze upon womanly beauty. He's ready to show his mettle. I still know the feel of your naked body against me back."

She laughed again. "I'm not offended. It might be the strange drugs they fed me, or maybe it's the thought of a real human man beside me, but . . ."

The man wrapped an arm about her shoulders, briskly rubbing her arms with his other hand. He looked about the area as if to assure himself he was really there.

"It looks much the same," he said. Then he spied a towering elm. "What year is it?"

"2011."

He was silent a moment, his face clouded by a shadow of sadness. "Thirty-nine years . . . The bitch held me prisoner thirty-nine years. The elm yonder was a mere sapling then. Everything I know is gone. My wife, my children . . ."

Circe finally set the glowing scepter down. Its warm light still illuminated the air between them as she lifted a hand to his face.

"I'm sorry. Maybe I can make the scepter reverse time or something."

"That's something even the little people could'na do, lass." He stared in her eyes for a long moment before moving her hand down, stopping at the lower contours of his lean belly. "If you'd be willing, though, I'd find comfort in you."

She smiled, her body heating at the thought. "If you're asking me to have sex with you, I should warn you, they fed me something that makes me wild."

"Ah, the pink grog . . . I remember it well." He smiled as her hand touched his straining cock. He let out a small growl before capturing her fingers in his. "Only if you're willin'. After what they did to you, I don't blame you for not wanting anything to do with me."

She was fairly purring when she brought her eyes up to his again. "I think it's because of what they did to me. I feel so alive and free."

He released her hand, grazed a knuckle down her cheek as she closed her fingers over his cock again. Suddenly he frowned as she stared into his eyes.

"You're eyes remind me of me sweet wife. Hers were as blue as yours, and her hair as dark . . . What's your name, lass?"

"Circe, Circe Gregor. What's yours?"

His once-proud cock shriveled in her hand. He jerked way from her. "And your father, what name did he go by?"

She returned his frown, confusion clouding her mind. "His name is Aedan Gregor. What's wrong?"

"Aedan Gregor, Jr.?"

"Well, he dropped the "junior" after his father went missing almost forty . . . How long did you say you'd been gone?"

The man stumbled to his feet, putting as much distance between them as he could without falling off the boulder. "Lord and saints preserve us. Cover yerself girl. I canna look upon ye."

"It can't be true." She buried her face in her hands.

He was facing away from her, refusing to look her direction again. "I know your father. I knew him the minute he came screaming into this world. The bairn was me own son, damn it!"

Circe rose to her feet, her mouth open in shock. Hearing the words said aloud made it all the more dirty. "Grandpa? You're my grandfather?" She looked about for something, anything, to cover her body. "Oh, my God! I almost . . . We almost . . . Ew! Oh, my God!"

"Stop your caterwauling. We need clothing, anything . . ."

She snatched the little wand from the ground, waving it frantically. In her desperation, she created a large pile of assorted clothing, none of which fit properly. She couldn't get it on quickly enough, couldn't cover herself sufficiently to take away what had almost happened between her and her long-missing grandfather. When she was done, she leapt off the rock and turned her back. She could hear him rustling around behind her, knew he was dressing as frantically as she had.

"Feh!" he yelled. "Confounded shirt, never knew it was so hard to button up."

The humor of the situation suddenly struck Circe. A peal of outrageous laughter bubbled from her lips, much to Grandpa's consternation. She continued to laugh until tears spilled from her eyes.

He was not amused. Fully clothed, he stood before her until her maniacal giggles subsided. With a grave expression on his face, he clasped his hands behind his back.

"We shall ne'er speak of this again," he said, his voice quiet and grim.

She lost it once more, erupting in fits of laughter that caused her to fall back against the boulder. He gave her time to compose herself.

"I'm sorry," she said between hiccups. "It's funny. You have to admit, this is funny."

"I'm only glad me poor wife will never have to know, God rest her."

Circe sobered. "Grandma's alive. Why would you think she's dead?"

Aedan's eyes misted. "Can it be? Ah, but she probably remarried, thinking her husband long dead."

"No, she didn't. She's been pining, waiting for you to return for nearly forty years. She's still young, healthy and beautiful. She always took care of herself, said you would come back one day and she wanted to look her best. Faith, she always had faith. Come to think of it, she always said you'd been carried off by elves. I guess she wasn't too far off. Would you like to see her?"

He swiped at a single tear and nodded. "Aye, that I would. Do you think she'll recognize me?"

"We'll soon see," she said, laughing. Slipping an arm through his, she led the way toward home. "She'll probably go after you with clippers and a pair of scissors, but she'll know you the minute she sees you. If we hurry, we'll still catch her at Mom and Dad's. It's likely they're still cleaning up from my birthday party. I think next year I'll actually attend."

He pulled to a halt, turning to look her in the eye. "You're birthday, eh? Happy birthday, Granddaughter. It was a blessed day you came into the world. Thank you for bringing an old man home."

"My pleasure, Gramps." She grabbed his hand as she slipped the faerie wand into her shirt pocket. "Gram's gonna shit a blue bean when she sees you. Let's get you home."

*

I hope you had fun reading this little story. Your vote and your feedback are greatly appreciated.

~Molly Wens