Page 17 of Killian
“I imagine it sometimes,” said Pellos from behind him. His Greek accent tingeing the English words. “Marching through here as a centurion. Brothers in arms. Rome was founded by the twin sons of a wolf, you know. I sometimes wonder if their goal was to make one big wolf pack. They wanted what we have.”
Killian turned to look at Pellos, but the memory faded, leaving nothing but another aching hole in his chest.
“That’s a Roman road,” said Killian.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” asked Moira, touching his arm.
“No,” said Killian. “I feel like…” He shook his head. “I want my memory back.”
He looked back out into the darkness. It had taken on an emerald shade of black.
“Is it just me, or did it get lighter?”
“Yes,” said Moira. “I think it’s those things.”
She pointed upward, and he saw that the tall pillars had large crystals embedded in them that had started to glow faintly.
“This place is so weird.”
“The light is moving again,” said Moira, pointing to where the firefly was zinging toward them. Killian found that he was holding his breath as it approached. He felt himself coil, ready to pounce as it zipped left and then right. His urge to chase it was startlingly visceral.
“I kind of want to put it in my mouth and bite it,” whispered Moira. “Is that bad?”
Killian was about to answer when the light zipped forward, charging straight for them. It paused for a moment, and he andMoira stared into the tiny face of a winged fairy creature.
Episode 8
Little Free Libraries
Moira
Moira stared at the tiny little sprite and wanted to squee like a fangirl but was held immobile in shock. It was green and mostly naked and wearing a flower as a hat. Then it screamed in terror and fled like Moira was the devil herself.
“Nooooooo,” howled Moira, reaching out. But it was too late; the tiny creature was already gone. “It was a fairy, a real live fairy with wings!” Moira flailed her arms in distress. “And we scared it!”
“I’m sorry,” said Killian.
“It looked just like the picture in Grandpa’s book!”
“Did it?”
“What’s this one, Grandpa?”
“That is a sprite. It’s a wee bitty thing, just like you. Here it says they have a wicked bite, which can be treated by applying mashed Witch Hazel or Broadleaf Plantain.”
Moira snuggled closer to her grandfather as the rain lashed the window outside. She loved the old book with the ornately lettered cover that read:An Accounting of Supernaturals, but she liked it best when Grandpa read it to her.
Moira blinked as the memory faded. “It had hand-painted illustrations. I think? I...” She didn’t mean to, but she made a miserable whining noise.
“Yebo,”agreed Killian, nodding and reaching out to pull her into a hug.
“I didn’t mean to scare it,” she said, sadly leaning into his chest. He felt amazingly cozy—like his shoulder was meant for her head to rest on. “What’syebo?”
“Uh…yes,in Zulu.”
“Oh. I don’t even know what I did to scare it.”
“I just think maybe we weren’t who it was expecting,” said Killian rubbing her back. She loved the pets and wanted to feel his fingers in her ruff. Moira felt her forehead wrinkle at that thought. She must have meant hair, but what an odd thing to think.
