Sundancer's Fairy Tale - 4

Soon after Sileas set Wind Dancer down off the Quastrana coast, she assured me that not only was I doing fine, but also I seemed to have a genuine knack for both fiddling and sailing. That made it easier for both of us, she said. I brought Dancer into Sunrise Harbor right through the channel at the small lighthouse on the end of the breakwater, and right up to the town dock at just the right speed for a perfect docking. I was a lot more confident about my dancing since I’d taken a dance class during my university days. Later, in the tavern, it quickly became obvious that my partnership with Sileas enabled me to be a good enough fiddler to entertain the folks who’d followed me into Brewer’s. I’ve always felt that my playing and dancing at the same time owed a lot to Natalie MacMaster, a young Cape Breton fiddler I’d been lucky enough to see at a couple of festivals. She always appeared to have so much fun performing, and once I started playing in Brewer’s and getting positive responses, it was easy for me to see why.

In Marathoona I spent the night in the little room at Windward’s that was much like the room I’d first had at Brewer’s. I’d decided earlier that day not to mention a sunrise dance, so I slept in a bit, although I was up early enough for breakfast. Then I was eager to go about town getting supplies for my sail to the Candara Isles. Handy, though he knew I wasn’t staying, was waiting outside the tavern and offered to help me find stuff and carry it. He saved me a lot of time, and once everything was on board, I gave him a good tip for his services.

Then Wind Dancer and I were off, and it felt like this was the real start of my voyage back to Sunrise Harbor. Navigation was easy thanks to the Orbital Tower’s cables being visible in the sky. Of course, with Sileas’ help, navigation wasn’t really a problem, but it was good to know all I had to do was keep Dancer oriented in the right direction relative to the tower. The weather was fair and the wind was favorable. After a while I set the steering gear and got out my fiddle and played for hours. It was an overnight sail to the Candara Isles, and with the auto-steering gear and Sileas watching out for me, I was able to keep going and get a night’s sleep. While it’s true my artificial body didn’t require sleep, it was nice to relax and give my mind a break. I snuggled into my bunk and let the rhythmn of Dancer’s passage through the water put me to sleep. The only fly in the ointment was being alone. I missed Harper and Midnight, and knew I’d miss them every night until I got back to them.

The next morning some of the closer Candara Isles came into view. It was a very warm day, and I got to thinking it would be nice to find someplace where I could get in a brief swim in fresh water. Sileas had just the answer for that: a small uninhabited island only a short distance off to starboard. There was a tiny bay for anchorage, and a freshwater spring and pool a short walk from the beach. I couldn’t ask for more. I brought Dancer in close to shore, dropped anchor, got out the self-inflating dinghy, and rowed to the beach. It wasn’t hard to locate the pool even without Sileas’ help. There was a path up from the beach. The pool even had a convenient flat rock for me to stretch out on and dry off after my swim. I dove into the pool, swam around a bit, then lay out on the rock for a while. Life was feeling pretty good, aside from my being alone. One nice thing about my artificial body was that I didn’t have to worry about sunburn, and redheads sunburn quicker than anyone.

Just about the time I’d decided I’d dried off enough and ought to be getting on with the voyage, I heard screams. They sounded very desperate but weren’t terribly loud, so I thought they were a ways off, meaning I’d have to do some running to find the source. I sprang right up and headed into the surrounding woods in the direction the screams were coming from. I hoped I’d be in time to help.

It turned out I didn’t have to go nearly as far as I’d thought I would. I came around a large rock and almost ran right into a large spinner’s web. The spinner was on one side, looking ugly and threatening. On the other side was a screaming and terrified fairy. It, or rather, she, was not what I was expecting. Back on Earth, most people don’t believe fairies exist, at least not outside old myths, stories like Peter Pan, and other fantasies. But on Dahroona, they exist, and Sileas was able to quickly fill me in with as much as she knew about them.

Fairies on Dahroona are tiny, about six to eight inches tall. They look a lot like Dahroonans except they don’t have pelts, and unlike Dahroonans, they do have wings. They are not figments of anyone’s imagination, nor do they have any magical powers. Fairies are pretty shy, however, and most Dahroonans go through their whole lives without ever seeing one. They seemed to be fairly bright given their small size, and could mimic other creatures and even simple Dahroonan speech.

This particular fairy was female and about six inches tall, and she was stuck to a few strands of the spinner’s web. She was struggling and flapping her wings desperately, but it wasn’t doing her any good. The spinner, almost the same size as the fairy, appeared to be waiting for the fairy to tire herself out before moving in for the kill. I decided this spinner was going to have to wait for more suitable prey.

I found a small leafy branch with several twigs forming a cluster and held it between the spinner and the fairy. I thought the spinner would just sit there, but it jumped right at the branch. Once it did, I flipped the branch over my shoulder. It and the spinner landed a fair way off. I asked Sileas to keep an eye on it and went to work freeing the fairy, who seemed to know I was on her side and allowed me to hold her while I got the web strands free. She’d stopped screaming and just whimpered softly. Getting the strands off her was somewhat like pulling off bandaids, and she let out a couple of little yelps, but didn’t try to scratch or bite. I was glad to see her wings hadn’t been damaged. When I got her free, I held her on my open hand. She stood up with her wings outstretched. She was beautiful. Her wings reflected all different colors in the sunlight. She had short black hair on her head, and another little black patch between her legs.

I prepared to toss her into the air so she could fly off and was holding her out, but just then there was a rustle in the brush where I’d tossed the spinner. I didn’t have to launch her, she did that herself. But instead of gettin’ the heck outta Dodge by flying off away from the sound, she sprang to my neck and left shoulder and pulled my hair, which was hanging loose, around her as she folded in her wings. She clung to me, trembling. I didn’t want to stay around an ugly and presumably very ticked off spinner, so I moved quickly back to the pool, well out of sight of the spinner’s web.

“All right, little one,” I said, “we’re away from that nasty ol’ spinner. It’s safe to come out now.”