Free Faerie by Jenna Grey Page B

she had to say she was glad to see most of them go. She would see them around in the village sometimes and perhaps even give them a polite nod, but they would be strangers to her. But when she thought of it, they had always been strangers, hadn’t they? There wasn’t one of them she’d miss – accept perhaps Gary. She collected the last few things from her locker and walked along the corridor to the front entrance, looking back over her shoulder just once as she walked down the steps into her new life.
     
    Once out of college, Lily realised that she couldn’t face going home just yet, couldn’t face Claire, not right now. She needed time to collect her thoughts, to try and reconcile herself with what had happened. She wondered how Connor was today, how he was coping. She wished with all of her heart that she could see him, just to reassure him that she was all right, even if she wasn’t. She wondered if she’d actually be able to fool him.
    She decided she would go to her most favourite spot in the whole world, the great twisted old tree at the end of the lane that stood all alone in the featureless field; it’s gnarled old trunk looked as if it had been there a thousand years, and probably had. It was as wide as a small cottage, its great canopy of leaves spreading out like a great umbrella. She loved that tree, and explored every knot hole to see if it was a hidden entrance to Elphame ‒ the other world. So far she had found nothing, although she had never tried it at twilight. Perhaps she would one day. Quite often when she was allowed out, she would go to her tree and sit underneath it, reading for as long as she dare or playing her music. It was the happiest of times for her.
    Connor. She needed Connor. It was a sudden and urgent thought, and a ridiculous one – she hardly knew him – and yet, wasn’t that man and fey’s most basic and primitive motivation, to gravitate to those that were of the same tribe or kind as you were? It had always been that way since time immemorial, that unlike magnets, like attracted like. You only had to look at the ghettos in any major cities to see that in action. There was comfort and security in sticking within the herd, and right now Connor was her herd.
    Lost in melancholy thought, she settled herself under the shade of her tree; the sun was still warm, a lovely summer evening, bright with the promise of a glorious sunset, with just the barest hint of breeze ruffling the still air. She took out her tenor recorder, her favourite; she had saved long and hard to be able to afford it, and she loved it dearly, polished dark wood, and gloriously mellow. She had three recorders, a descant, which had a bright and happy sound, high pitched and chirpy, like bird song, a treble, mid-toned and sweet, the tenor, deeper and more mellow, round warm tones that she used for more gentle and melancholy pieces. She composed her own music, creating melodies in her head. They seemed to come to her so easily, beautiful tunes that filled the air with magic. She picked up the tenor recorder and began to play, a soft sad melody, that floated across the still summer air. She lost herself in it, letting the music wrap around her, transporting her away from this world into another reality, where she could see Elphame, where she could see home, trying to find some kind of solace, but there was none.
    She looked up, and there was Connor.
    For a moment she wasn’t sure if he was actually there or she was just seeing some illusory image of him, but she blinked and he was still there, standing just a few feet in front of her, smiling beatifically at her. His feet were bare. He almost threw himself at her, wrapping his arms around her neck and almost throttling her with his exuberance, obviously overjoyed at seeing her again. He was a good foot taller than her and she found herself smothered against his chest. She extricated herself with difficulty, gently easing him away and looked up into those