Dreams and Shadows

chapter FORTY-EIGHT

TWO IN A FIELD

The sonorous melancholy of the fairy dirge carried for miles through the woods. Even as far away as Colby and Yashar stood from the singing, the tinkling of instruments and the magic of the voices still resonated. They were in the Limestone Kingdom, standing just outside the field where Colby, Ewan, and Mallaidh had once played—just beyond the point where once they had escaped a pack of redcaps. The whole of the kingdom had gathered to say good-bye to the dozens of fairies they’d lost. Colby, Yashar, and the golden retriever Gossamer stood together to say good-bye to just two.

A pair of gray stone monuments, each one carved in the likeness of his friends, stood overlooking two small dirt mounds, beneath which lay the scant remains of Mallaidh and Ewan, a handful of flower petals under one, and a dried red cap under the other.

“Is this how I’ll end up?” asked Colby, breaking a long, strained silence.

“Only if you keep making enemies,” replied Yashar.

“No, I mean . . .”

“I know what you mean,” said Yashar, “and I don’t know. I’m not sure death would be the worst thing that could happen to you. People shun you, the fairies are scared to death of you, and even the f*cking angels can’t stand you anymore. The worst thing that could happen to you now is to be cursed with my life—a long one, filled with monstrous deeds that go wrong no matter how well intentioned.”

“The sum of a man isn’t the things he’s done, it is the world he leaves behind.”

“What?”

“It’s something Bertrand said. One day, no matter what, you and I will both be dust and dreamstuff, and the total of our lives won’t be the things we did to survive, but the things we did to change the world.

“You’ve spent a millennium tethered to the dreams of children and watched as those dreams grew up to face reality. In your cowardly way of playing it safe, you never offered anyone a wish that could truly change the world, and thus you’ve always had to sit by and watch as that unchanged world weighed down upon your dreamers, crushing them. While it’s true that children rarely want anything messy, they also never want anything but that which they want for themselves. It’s no wonder you hate the world you live in; you’ve spent the entirety of your existence feeding its most childish urges.” Colby looked Yashar in the eye. “Maybe it’s time you wished a little bigger.”

“What are you saying?” asked Yashar.

“If we’re going to be monsters, let us be monsters of purpose. Let’s do something. Something real.”

Yashar shrugged. “Like your thing with the Tithe?”

“Exactly like that. If these things are going to fear me, let’s make it count.”

The two looked out into the field, tall grass waving in the wind. Two young figures emerged from the dark.

Yashar looked at Colby.

“I know they’re not real,” said Colby.

“Come back, Colby,” shouted one of the figures, waving an arm in the air. “Come play with us!”

“Yeah, Colby,” said the other. “Come and play!”

“That doesn’t change anything, though, does it?” asked Yashar. “You still want to go.”

“I’m not that kid anymore.”

“But you’re happy to see them.”

“It’s not really them.”

Yashar looked at him incredulously. “What are you talking about? That is them.”

“No, it’s a reflection.”

“A reflection of their energy. Energy you sent out into the wild. They just wanted to find each other and they did. You did that. This just happened to be the place their energy ran to. Don’t discount that.”

Colby nodded, lost in the moment. “No one chooses where or when they’ll find perfection, but I want to believe everyone finds it at least once. I guess this was theirs.”

“Where’s yours?” asked Yashar.

“I’ll know it when I find it.”

“That sounds oddly hopeful.”

“I’ve gotta believe in something. This is as good a thing as any, I suppose.” Colby reached into a battered backpack, pulling from it a worn-out, faded, sweat-stained old bear. He smiled, gently placing Mr. Bearston on the ground atop Ewan’s grave. Then he raised an arm to the two figures in the field and waved.

“Bye, Colby!” the two shouted.

One figure leaned in to kiss the other on the cheek, running off into the tall grass to play. The remaining figure smiled at Colby and then followed the other, vanishing into the field.

Colby looked at Yashar, nodding. “You know your job’s not done yet, right?”

“Which one?”

“My wish,” said Colby. “I haven’t seen everything yet.”

“No, you really haven’t.”

Colby whistled. “Come on, Gossamer. Let’s go home.”