Wishmaker -- A Little Taste

4/22/2007   See what you think, folks. Comments welcome.

Well, well. It seems we have a start, my lady.”

A man dislodged himself from a holly bush. The thorns did not bother him much. He watched as the woman stood slowly, glanced around and then shrugged.

“That’s right, don’t believe her. She be just an old snoop anyway.”

He knew she couldn’t hear him. In fact she couldn’t see him either, unless he wanted her to and it was much too early for that. There would be time. It was part of the game.

And she had played her part quite nicely. A wish. He couldn’t have asked for a better beginning.

The wish hung in the air above where the woman had been sitting. He could see it suspended there, the silver grey edges sparkling gaily in the sun. Such a pity humans could not see the beauty of their wishes as he did. For him they were real, as real as any action ever taken. Some of them were beautiful to behold, soft with promises and hopes. Others were blood red and cold. Those smelled of death and desecration. It didn’t matter. Judging was not his job. Others played that part. He knew the job he had been hired for.

He reached up to scratch his nose and the soft rattling that accompanied any of his movements grew to a clatter.

“Manannan’s blood, will I ever be rid of ye, cursed sea tripe.”

The man dropped his hand swatting at the shells that hung in large loops across his body. It would not be long until he was free of this Aes Sidhe curse.

He turned his attention to the wish. Blowing gently to dislodge it from its place of origin, it began to float free. He sucked at the air, drawing the wish closer and closer until, finally, he drank it in as though it were lemonade on a hot day. He smiled. A wish from the heart. How lovely. His favorite.

All that was in Claire Robertson’s heart became a picture in his head. A glimpse was all that was needed. He required her soul to set himself free and now he knew just how to get it.

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