Farview by Kim Fielding

Author:Kim Fielding
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tin Box Press

Oliver lay in silence for a time, loving the feel of Felix against him. And then he finally sighed. “I can’t decide whether that’s a happy story or a sad one.”

“Well, it’s both, isn’t it? Sad bits and happy, just like everybody’s story.”

“I don’t like the sad bits.”

“I don’t expect anyone does. But we can make the best of the happy. I think that’s the moral, if you want one. Aymar and Lyra didn’t have eternity together, but they had something and that was lovely.”

“Hmm.”

Felix rolled toward Oliver and began to toy with the few hairs on Oliver’s chest. There was nothing purposeful about it—he wasn’t trying to arouse Oliver, who wasn’t capable of another go tonight and was shocked he’d been able to manage even the one—but it was pleasant to have those fingers idly stroking and tugging at him.

“So,” Oliver began, “if your story is true—”

“Told you. Nothing’s truer than stories, even when they’re not entirely accurate.”

“Do you really think one of my ancestors was a water fae?”

“Oh, I know it. You have the blue eyes, don’t you?”

Oliver snorted. “Loads of people have blue eyes.”

“Not round here. Not unless they’re descended from Lyra and Aymar.”

It was an appealing idea: a man, who is nobody in particular and with no family to speak of, discovers magic in his lineage. Oliver didn’t know if descending from a fae prince was any less likely than having conversations with ghosts who were related to him, scores of generations back. He’d come to Croftwell expecting solitude and peaceful boredom, yet he’d found a friend and a personal history and several small adventures besides.

“If I were a water fae, would that mean I’d be immune to sickness?”

“If you were on your island, sure.” Felix sighed. “But you’re here in Croftwell.”

“Enjoying my bits of happiness.” Oliver squeezed Felix closer.

The cottage was now almost entirely dark, although something bright occasionally flickered past the window, like a sprite that had swallowed a star. He didn’t bother to ask Felix what it was. Although intrigued, Oliver decided he’d explored enough mysteries already and would let this one go.

Felix lay pressed against him, warm and patient, not trying to prompt Oliver. But Oliver could sense Felix’s air of expectation, and besides, Oliver had made a promise. He may or may not be partly fae, but he liked to do what he’d said he would. Anyway, he was feeling surprisingly strong, and it was easier to admit things in the dark, to someone whose palm rested over your heart.

“This isn’t a new story,” Oliver said. “It’s more a continuation of one from before.”

“That’s all right, then. All stories connect. Like strands in a web.”

That made Oliver think of a spider waiting to pounce on her prey. Yet spiders could be beautiful—a shiny blue-and-purple one lived in the eave of the loo, and Oliver had enjoyed watching her gleam in the sun. They did a service, too, gobbling up bugs that would otherwise damage gardens. Good and bad. Happy and sad. Some of each.

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