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Eva had a bare moment to wonder why he seemed so very pleased,
before the magic thickened around them and the mortal world
vanished.
She stood in Faerie. Even if the massive old growth trees didn’t tell her
she’d moved, the clarity in the air would. Each leaf stood out starkly
from its shadow. The light seemed to gild every blade of grass
individually and the air was heavy with the resin of rowan mixed with
oak and maple. Eva resisted the urge to immediately pull out her phone
and start snapping pictures of the space around her. She wasn’t here
for research.
The branches arced over the clearing like a cathedral or a longhouse. At
the edge of the clearing, stood a mud-and-daub house in the Cherokee
style. It had a single hide-covered door in the side, decorated with a red
and black paint pattern unlike anything she had seen in text books. It
had elements she recognized from Cherokee basketry but mixed with
Celtic knot-work.
Ringing her, was a fence of living willow—no. Not a fence. These were
baskets that had been woven from green willow and then planted. They
vibrated slightly with the movements of things inside the baskets.
Eva shivered. She had wondered what the Fae did with the baskets she
wove and now she knew. They were living cages.
LE PORTRAIT MAGAZINE
Page 25