"Faery Rade" by Christine Hou

       She had wound briars around her wrist this time. Recalling how, a year ago, she had awoken to a cold morning and bitter disappointment, she gritted her teeth. I will succeed. She would do anything to see him again.
       Like a fly in amber, the moment was held in her memory, impermeable to the wear of time. It was summer, two years ago when she saw him. He had parted the crowd like some forgotten god and led her into a dance. The thought of his smile, the light in his eyes, and the warmth of his skin, sent shivers down her back even now. But after that one dance, he had left her, disappearing as though he had never existed.
       It was only later that she had learned what he was. Fae. But the name did not surprise her. She already knew his beauty to be beyond the scope of mortals--for he was perfect in form and figure.
       His kind, the Fair Folk, walked among mortals on Midsummer’s Night. And on that night, they had their Rade.
       Her eyelids drooped; sleep approached only to be thwarted by a sudden burst of agony as the thorns bit into her skin. She gasped at the pain but did not try to free herself from the self made manacles. Tiny drops of blood from where the skin had been broken glistened black in the moonlight. She looked down at her torn hands and gritted her teeth against the sting; she would do anything to see him again.
       She strained her ears, listening for the sound of bells – for they would have bells braided into the manes of their steeds. Her legs were cramping and she could feel the cold dampness of the ground seeping through her dress. Yet she persevered, knowing that they will come.
       Her head was starting to nod again when she held it: the faintest whisper of glorious voices singing and musical bells tinkling. And then they came.
       She was rendered speechless. Their merry procession exuded an aura of light and joviality; all of the riders possessing unearthly beauty. The ladies were each fairer than the last; slender as lilies and graceful as swans. The lords held a wilder beauty, like that of the tiger and the falcon.
       For a long moment she was dazzled, such loveliness was not meant for human eyes. Then she saw him, his midnight locks waving in the warm breeze, his eyes bright with laughter. Her heart seemed to falter as though disbelieving. She had found him!
       Unconsciously she leaned forward. She freed her hands from their prickly manacles so she could push aside the branches marring her view. A twig snapped beneath her shifting weight and it was as if the world stopped.
       Instantly the voices went silent and the Rade came to a halt. The icy hand of fear suddenly clenched her heart. They do not suffer spies Having finally seen the Fae in all their glory, she knew them to be terrible.
       They spoke in their musical, lilting speech among themselves for moment and then he dismounted and approached her hiding place. She could not suppress a quiver of delight that coursed through her upon seeing his face. The thicket parted before him. His eyes locked with hers; they held all the warmth of a starry night. Slowly, unsteadily, she stood.
       Swallowing, she said breathlessly, “I-I did not mean to spy on you, Sir.” His mere presence seemed to empty her lungs of air.
       “Truly?” His aquamarine eyes seemed to look through her very soul. Her heart fluttered against her chest, a caged bird longing to fly free.
       “Y-yes, I only wanted to see you again.”
       He reached out and gently cupped her face. She thought she would faint.
       “My people do not take kindly to being spied on.” His fingers stroked her cheek and she shivered beneath his touch; it was almost more than she could bear. “But beauty we value and you are fair for a mortal.”
       A quiver ran through her; perhaps he would take her back to the Hill and allow her to live among them, a favored one.
       “Close your eyes.”
       Her eyes seemed to close of their own accord. She felt him lean close, setting the very air afire. She felt his lips brush against her eyelid. She gasped; it was as if lightening had gone through her.
       All too soon, he pulled away.
       “Farewell, foolish mortal. Value the gift I have given you.” He turned and walked away.
       Like a flower touched by frost, she crumpled to the ground, hands covering her face. Distantly she could hear the chiming of bells and the sound of Fae voices singing as the Rade once again went on its way.
       She sat there on the cold ground, her crimson skirts pooling around her. Then, slowly, she let her hands fall to her lap and turned her face towards the setting moon. A tenuous smile shadowed the corners of her mouth.
       “I saw him again.”
       The moonlight sparkled off her sightless eyes.