Chapter 2 (finally)-Candles Shouldn't Do That


Ceri closed her eyes and thought about what to wish for. Money? ‘Hugh and Kevin are doing just fine and as for us girls, at least some of us have jobs,’ Ceri thought about the diner she worked at and Bella’s position at the nearby New York Public Library. Rosalyn and Adelaide both had auditions next week. Fame? ‘No, I’ll earn it or I won’t worry about it,’ Ceri said, wondering if she’d heard that line before or just made it up then. True love? Ceri tried hard not to think about how she still wasn’t quite over Bella. She had reassured her friends time and time again that she was fine and being the good actress she is, they seemed to think it was the truth. ‘What else could I wish for?’ When she was younger, every birthday had included the wish that she would find her biological parents and have her real family. She inhaled deeply and blew out the candle.

A cloud of smoke larger and darker than one candle should have produced hung in the air. Everyone moved back, but the two men stepped forward slightly as an instinct to protect the girls.

“Candles shouldn’t do that,” Adelaide said, ducking behind Ceri.

“Ceridwen Merckx!” a voice boomed from the dark cloud as a light that might have been more impressive if the lights were not still on flashed in the air.

Ceri found her ability to speak restored, “You have the wrong girl. My name is Ceridwen O’Keefe.”

The smoke disintegrated and a small young man with green and silver shiny wings hovered where it had been as a trollish man of equal height fell in a side of the remainder of the cake.

“Damned nuisance when the lights are on. Makes the whole entrance far less impressive as when they’re off.” The troll man said in a crisp British accent. “And the bloody kids always think it’s not them. Like their last names aren’t bloody wrong.”

The younger stranger landed on the pink icing covering his companions head, “Sorry about Cratch, he’s a world-class grump.” The boy fluttered over to Ceri, but his advance was blockaded by Kevin and Hugh. “It’s okay, fey friends. I’m not going to hurt the fey one.”

“Fey?” Kevin asked, distrust in his voice.

“It means magical. Like fairies, pixies, dragons, gnomes, dwarves, that kind of fairy tale stuff,” Hugh explained, never taking his eyes off the faerie.

The winged boy flew in a happy circle, “Exactly! You are a fey friend!” He regarded Hugh, taking in his pale, slender body, bright and intelligent light blue eyes and asked, “Are you fey too? You seem to be a faerie.”

Hugh laughed despite himself, “Only in the non-magical, gay as a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide, sparkly fairy boy kind of way.”

I…see…,” the boy said in a tone that made it clear he had no idea what Hugh was talking about.

The troll man called Cratch had taken a napkin and was ridding himself of his pink and sugary coating. “It means he’s homosexual, Prace. He kisses other men and doesn’t kiss women.”

Hugh shrugged, “Close enough.”

“What do you want with Ceri?” Kevin demanded getting the conversation back on track.

Ceri felt a pang of love towards Kevin for protecting her, but it dissolved into fear as the faerie flew over their heads to hover over her. “Don’t worry, fey one,” he said. “We aren’t going to hurt you. Just ignore Cratch’s crabbiness.”

“I’m really not fey. You have the wrong girl,” she replied.

Prace nodded matter-of-factly, “Yes, you are.

Cratch, newly cleaned off, piped up, “Most fey changelings live in this world until their 20th birthday. Then it’s me and the apprentice’s job to track them down and bring them back to their home,” Cratch explained further.

“Ceri’s not going anywhere,” Rosalyn said, moving to stand at the girl’s side. Bella followed her girlfriend fixing a glare upon the little men.

“Yes she is. Her parents have requested her return. No one says no to a lord and lady when they ask for something,” Prace shivered.

“My parents gave me up and the ones who raised me died three years ago,” Ceri saddened at the remembrance.

“Your family is alive and doing very well. They request you are returned to them and take your place in the family home,” Prace replied.

Hugh had at some point moved behind Ceri and his arms went around her waist, pulling her tightly against his body, her back to his chest, “We are her family. Ceri is not going anywhere without us. You can’t take her away.”

The others nodded their affirmation and took a stand by Ceri, as though ready to defend her to the death, which they were.