Page 7 of A Hint of Delirium

I gritted my teeth, not liking the nicknamelittle human.I hurried into my bedroom and slammed the door behind me. Taking deep lungfuls of air, I paced the room and pondered my next steps. Should I call the police? But if he was telling the truth and he had the glamour thingy on, no one would be able to see him. Then I’dreallylook crazy and my mother would be even more worried. I could jump out the window to get away. It wasn’ttoohigh. I might twist an ankle, but by the time he realized I was gone, I’d be long gone on the subway.

I chewed my nail, a nervous habit I was trying to kick, then made up my mind. I shrugged off my robe and found some clean clothes. A pair of black leggings, a slouchy long-sleeve shirt, and my favorite chunky heeled boots. I didn’t plan on running. He already knew where I lived, which meant if I ran, he’d just come back later.

I dressed and grabbed my favorite silver accessories – an assortment of necklaces, bracelets, and rings – and walked to the mirror, deciding to leave my hair alone. It was a curly mess, just the way I liked it.

Stepping out of my room, I found Ansel sitting in my recliner. His eyes lit up when he saw me, soaking me in from head to toe. Or maybe I imagined it.

“Listen.” I cleared my throat and straightened, trying to find some inner confidence. “I don’t trust you. Honestly, I think you’re a whack job, but show me these creatures you call fae. If I don’t see them, then you have to promise to leave me alone. I don’t want to see you in my neighborhood again, got it?”

He stood. “You have my word. And for a seelie, that’s a big commitment.”

I rolled my eyes. “Lead the way.”

* * *

We tookthe Q33 and headed for the subway to take the 7 to get to Flushing Meadow Park, which was a public park in the northern part of Queens. My mother used to take me there as a kid all the time, going to Mets games at Citi Field. It was odd being there without her.

We stood in front of the fountain that housed the unisphere—a huge, spherical stainless-steel representation of Earth—that was one of the park’s main attractions. When you thought of Flushing Meadows, you always thought about the unisphere. I thought it was the perfect public place for us to go.

On the way there, Ansel interacted with people, bumping into them, sayingexcuse me, helping an elderly woman cross the street, doing everything possible to prove he was real to me.

“Okay, I get it, you’re real,” I finally said when he asked a guy for change for a twenty. I knew he didn’t carry cash, so I wanted to stop him before he traded leaves for real money.

Ansel waved the man away and came back to me with a big grin on his face. “Now that you know I’m not a figment of your imagination, on to the real work.”

“Which is?”

I flinched when he took my hand, but let him lead me to the fountain. He pointed to the middle and I gasped, covering my mouth and tightening my grip on him.

“Do you see them?” He pointed to a boisterous group of tiny people who couldn’t be more than a foot tall, climbing the unisphere and splashing around in the water. They had pointed ears and looked like troll dolls, and I heard their delighted shouts all the way from where I stood.

“You see them?” I whispered, inching closer as if afraid someone would overhear.

Ansel nodded. “They’re called sprites. They’re Low Fae. Little tricksters they are, and they love to hang out in the human realm.”

“And no one can see them?” I scanned the area, certain someone would notice a group of tiny folks splashing around in the fountain, but everyone was minding their own business, taking pictures in front of the unisphere like nothing out of the ordinary was there. Meanwhile the sprites, as Ansel called them, were in the background making silly faces and sounds as if posing for the picture.

“No one here can see them besides you and me. Let me introduce you.” Just as I was about to freak out, he added, “But first, let me glamour us.” Ansel looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to us and then—well, I don’t knowwhathe did, but after a moment of silence he started shaking my hand. “Stop fighting it, Violet,” he grumbled.

I looked up at him, perplexed. “I’m not fighting anything.”

He frowned. “I can’t glamour you. That should be impossible.”

“Well, if no one can see you now, this is going to get real awkward, real fast, so do your introductions quickly,” I mumbled beneath my breath. I gingerly sat at the edge of the fountain and waited.

Ansel whistled, getting the attention of one of the sprites. It skipped across the water, holding onto its hat until it landed on the ledge right beside me.

“And what’s a High Fae doing around these parts?” the creature said in a tremulous, high-pitched voice.

“Just showing my new friend here around.” Ansel gestured to me.

The sprite glanced over at me and then back at Ansel. “You gave her the sight?” He shook his head. “You High Fae, always doing whatever you want.”

Ansel tilted his head. “I wouldn’t be so quick to judge on who’s reckless.” He pointed to one of the sprites stealing from a woman’s purse.

The sprite with whom we’d been conversing removed his hat and twisted it around in his hands guiltily. “Well … I won’t squeal if you don’t.” He winced.

“Rest easy, friend, I’m not here to bust you.” When Ansel smiled, it was blinding. I’d once read that fairies were fallen angels. Now that I saw one in person, I wondered if it was true.

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