ADAIN

At night, the trees seem like giants, guardians standing sentry over the forest. I could swear they are watching me before I even reach their shelter, that they can see me run as fast as I can across the palace gardens and the hilly field beyond, hoping I don't hear the shout of one of my father's men. Every little sound, from the crack of a twig under my shoe to the hooting of a nearby owl, makes me leap nearly out of my skin. My heartbeat sounds thunderous in my chest.

Once I'm surrounded by the mossy trunks, I relax. I don't know why, but in the forest I feel protected. Safe.

"I'm looking for Halifass," I whisper into the dark. I wonder if I need to be louder for the trees to hear, if I need to shout. The idea seems appalling, so I wait for some sort of sign, shifting from foot to foot. The air has a chill to it that isn't there during the day, a clear message that winter is on the way. When the clouds move past the moon and its light shines down through the branches, I can see the fog of my breath.

"Oh-ho, the prince returns!" Halifass says, standing in the doorway of his home. He ushers me inside. The hollow tree is just as cozy and inviting as I remembered, crystals flickering with light up above, fire crackling in the clay stove.

"How is your friend?" Halifass asks as I move to warm myself by the stove.

I grimace. "He's still not allowed to see me. But my mother says they didn't beat him too harshly."

"Ah," Halifass says. "You were not supposed to be out having adventures, and he took the punishment for it."

"Well, I got punished, too!" I say. "I haven't been allowed to play with my friends, or go anywhere unsupervised. My father's guards are always following me everywhere!"

"And yet, here you are!" Halifass has a twinkle in his eye. "You must be very clever, to sneak away at night."

"I climbed down from my bedroom window," I brag. "They lock all the doors, even to the balcony, but not that window."

"Quite a feat!" he says, and I go on to tell him all the details of how dangerous it was to scale the palace wall in the dark.

When I've finished the tale, Halifass looks thoughtful. "I wonder, what made you want to come back to see old Halifass so desperately?" he asks.

"I want to learn magic," I say. "Can you teach me?"

"Oh!" He laughs, as if that's the funniest thing he's heard in a long time. "Teach magic! Do you think I'm a wizard?"

"No, you're a druid," I say, fairly certain. "But you made your tree disappear! And those crystals glow! And you talk to trees!"

"Hmm," Halifass says. "Perhaps I can teach you some things! This tree is called a heart tree. It's very rare." He lowers his voice to a conspiratorial hush. "They used to grow in the Faerie Wood. Or so I've heard."

"The tree is magic?" I ask, a bit disappointed.

"Oh yes!" he says. "Most trees are, to a degree. Much more magical than me!" He laughs again.

"How does it move, though?" I ask.

"It is moved by the whims of the heart," he says, gesturing widely with his hands.

"What does that mean?" I'm starting to get frustrated.

"It goes where it wants! And sometimes where I want, if I want it hard enough. We're quite good friends, this tree and I." Halifass smiles fondly upward, as if to acknowledge our third companion.

"So you talk to it? Like you talk to the other trees?"

"Mostly, I listen," he corrects, as if the distinction is very important. "The trees can hear, but they find direct conversation boring. The same is true for rocks and wind. Water, though! Sometimes the burbling brook and I exchange a tale or two."

I sit down on Halifass' nest-like bed, putting my head in my hands. "So you don't do any magic? No spells? What about the crystals?"

"Ah, those aren't crystals at all, they're bits of sprite-salt."

"What?"

"Sprite-salt!" he repeats. "When sprites are about to die, they fly into dark places, holes and caverns of various types. Their remains create crystal-like formations that grow and harden over the years. Many animals love to eat it. Left in darkness, it doesn't look like much, but once it sees the sun, the salt soaks the light up and keeps it inside! Very convenient. And tasty, too, I suppose."

Though I hardly know what a sprite is, I make a face at the idea of eating their dead bodies.

"Don't worry," he says, seeming to misunderstand my expression, "sprites have no qualms with others utilizing their remains. They don't think such things sacred, as other species do. Honestly, sprites seem to think very little is sacred." He chuckles.

For a moment I don't know what to say. I didn't come here to learn about trees and creatures. I came to learn magic. But maybe one can lead to the other.

"Are sprites faeries?" I ask.

Halifass smiles. "Yes indeed! Here, let me see..." He goes over to a shelf and pulls down a thick book with a worn brown cover. Sitting next to me on his makeshift mattress, he opens the book on his lap.

I stare at the pages as he flips through them, muttering to himself, "Hmm, no, not here, must be under winged, or is it by size…?" Each page has sketches of things fantastic and strange, an odd assortment of wings and hooves, horns and talons. There are beasts that look like plants, and other ones that look almost human. Along with the drawings there is a scattering of text, written with a neat hand, but in a haphazard sort of way, random notes tucked here and there with no apparent pattern.

"Halifass… This book…" I want to say something, but I can't seem to find words.

"Aha! Here it is," Halifass says, pointing.

The page is full of the creatures. They look almost like bugs, some more like flowers. Their features vary wildly: grasshopper legs and moth wings, antenna and thorns, patches of colorful petals and shiny beetle shells. Yet despite their oddness and their miniscule size, they look like people. Two legs, two arms, a recognizable face.

"Are sprites...evil?" I ask.

"Evil?" Halifass laughs. "They are a bit mischievous at times, but I don't believe they have the attention span for malevolent plotting."

I think about what I've been told by my mother, my father, Rogemere. It seems hard to believe that the world I have glimpsed in the pages of this book is one as blasphemous and vile as they say. Maybe there is good amongst the monstrous. But why would they keep that from me? They wouldn't lie to me like that.

"But the rest," I gesture at the book, "the rest are evil, right?"

Halifass considers my question for a moment, expression is more grave than I've ever seen it. "The fae folk can be cruel," he says at last. "I will even say that some have been vengeful and cold-hearted. And it's true that, in general, faeries are fickle and capricious, that their idea of fun and entertainment sometimes frightens us simple mortals. But evil? No."

He looks pained, as though something he's said has hurt him. He continues in a very quiet voice, "It would be easier, perhaps, if the lines of good and evil were as clear as they are in stories. They're not. But in my experience, young prince, the creatures I've encountered with the greatest capacity for evil...are human beings."

I stare at him, mouth agape and thoughts racing.

He grins. "Why do you think I live out here in the forest?" And with that, the seriousness is gone and the twinkle is back in his eyes.

"I don't understand!" I say, but Halifass just shrugs.

"Here," he says, passing the book to me. "If you want to understand, read. And if you can't learn it from a book, listen to the wind whispering to the trees and the pitter-pattering rain hitting the earth. But that takes much more patience."

Halifass gets up, humming a little tune to himself. "I'm going to make some tea," he says. "I feel a chill!" He performs an exaggerated shiver, rubbing his hands together.

It is very warm, especially near the fire. But somehow I know the chill he feels isn't in the air, it's somewhere inside. I saw a flash of it show in his eyes just moments before. Underneath that light-hearted cheer, there's a cold, dark sadness in Halifass, and though I am unbearably curious what caused it, I'm also not sure I want to know. At least not right now.

So instead of voicing my questions, I flip to a new page in the book while Halifass sings a song about a fire spirit falling in love with the sea. And that's where I stay for the rest of the night, lost in a book, in the forest where time seems to work differently.