Penelope:
I suppose I sounded like a brat wanting to rush back to the ship, I told myself. I was with my husband and friends (Although, I must admit that Timothy didn’t like me to call them that. He preferred that I refer to Bob, Terry, Daniel, and Ben as: the team or the crew. But really, the men were more than that; they really were my friends.)
Anyway, I was sitting atop my husband who’s a pooka. He looks like an obsidian-black and well-muscled stallion. Of course, since he’s my husband, Timothy doesn’t prance around and try to run away with me like a horse might, because my husband knows that I’m not a good rider. We were just walking.
As we treaded down the loveliest path you’ve ever seen with tall redwood trees intermixed, strangely, with full-leaved trees that could be willow or oak or some mixture, but all of them busy reaching to the sky in foresty dimensions, I kept asking myself how this was all possible.
Easy. We were plodding along beside a fancy carriage with two queens inside, and the path of our travel was in Faeryland, so I guess one should expect to see yellow daisies beside pink carnations, purple roses, African violets, and a colorful mixture of flowers I’d never seen before and would have trouble even guessing what family they belonged in.
I’d also seen furry little creatures with squirrel tales, rabbit ears, and spots of green. It was a whole different world, and as I said, most people would be delighted to visit here. I kept repeating that in my mind, but splotches of fear kept getting in the way. I was honestly afraid of the Fae and their rules and regulations, and scared to death that my babble-mouth or muteness (It goes both ways.) would make me say or do something wrong, and then I’d be sentenced to an ugly cell dungeon cell or at least a long sentence of servitude in Faeryland.
So, even though I kept telling myself how lucky I was to see all this . . .
Oh, my. “What was that?” I screamed.
A small gray creature, well, mostly gray, just decided to pop onto the path. He had an alligator mouth with teeth as sharp as a shark. Timothy, my husband, who has the ability to link minds with me, told me not to be frightened by the creature’s teeth. He added: It’s only a young dragon.
“A dragon!” I yelled out, causing Ben, who was currently inside the carriage with the two queens, to poke his head through the open window and peer out at me.
“That dragon will not harm you,” Ben said to reassure me, but at that moment a huge bird flapped down to land on Timothy’s neck. I wanted to jump off the pooka and run, but I didn’t, because Ben called out, “It’s only Daniel, Penelope.”
As I said, it was a strange world I’d found myself in. I remembered when my life was no more weird than choosing which café to get lunch at or listening to the other secretaries tell me about their encounters in the dating world. And now . . .
The bird, or Daniel as he was called in the human world, stroked my fingers with its/his beak. I think that was supposed to be reassurance. I liked Daniel, but his claws were gripping Timothy’s mane, and they looked fully capable of rending flesh. His beak was pointier than a can opener.
Darling, nothing and no one will hurt you with us nearby. And the queen will make sure of that as well. Calm yourself. Your heart is beating a tom-tom of rapidity.
Easy for Timothy to say, except, perhaps he couldn’t see that the dragon on my right side had just grown a couple of feet taller and was inching closer.