Ghost Light

I clumsily pulled the glove from my left hand.  With shaking fingers, I reached out and grasped the scale that was shining iridescent in the flashlight beam.  A hissing sound roared in my ears and I used my gloved hand to steady myself against the brick wall.  Reality blurred and slid, and a cascade of vertiginous images joined the hissing in my head.  Bricks, mortar, pavement, fire escape, and a patch of midday sky melted and mixed together like a stirred reflection in a mud puddle, leaving only the murky depths of a vision.

I pushed past the storm of emotions raging through the vision like a tempest, and tried to open my inner eye.  With an act of will, I tuned out the cacophony of hissing and rattling that assaulted my ears and focused on what I could see.  The alien perspective was perplexing, but the reflection in the fog shrouded puddle was familiar.  My suspicion was correct.

The serpent scale belonged to Melusine.

A flicker of light reflected off the puddle and Melusine looked up to see a cloud of wisps exit the window above.  A small bean-tighe followed, riding a broom.

That explained the difficult climb to the third floor apartment.  If bean-tighe can fly, then the fire escape was adequate.  It also answered another question I’d had regarding these faeries.  Bean-tighe are always depicted as wizened old women with rosy cheeks and wrinkled faces.  Now I knew why.

Evidently, bean-tighe are born looking like miniature versions of their parents.  The child astride the broom was smaller than an adult bean-tighe, but had the characteristic wrinkles on its cherubic face.  A kerchief covered her head, but strands of gray hair escaped to blow in the wind.  The child was smiling and chasing the wisps as they flew down the alley.

Melusine shifted through feelings of pleasure, satisfaction, pain, loss, jealousy, and rage as she slithered in the shadows.  The woman was as unstable as a dwarf on a surfboard.  Melusine’s serpent body coiled and uncoiled rhythmically and her tail lashed the wall.  The lamia seemed impatient to follow the child, but instead she waited.

“Sssoon my sssweet,” she said.

Something cold slithered over Melusine’s shoulder.  I held my breath as a thick bodied snake coiled around her neck.  Black scales were nearly lost in the shadows, but the pale underbelly and yellow tail caught the moonlight.  Melusine had herself a pet water moccasin, a venomous pit viper.

She reached out and caressed the snake affectionately on the head.  Melusine was eager to chase the child, but stroking her pet seemed to calm her as she waited.  The wisps exited the alley ahead of the tiny bean-tighe, and a flute began to play.  I forgot all about the snake.

A beautiful, lilting melody was coming from beyond the alley.  The song tugged at me, threatening to pull my soul deeper into the vision.  It was a sound I could follow forever.

I couldn’t see the piper, but I longed to run down the alley and dance into his or her arms.  I knew, without a doubt, that they were the most wonderful person I’d ever meet.  This musician was someone I’d jump off a cliff for.

I shook my ghost-like head.  Running into a stranger’s arms?  Jumping off a cliff?  That was crazy talk.  I willed myself to remain rooted to where Melusine slithered in the dark, but I longed to follow the flute player to the ends of the earth.

Apparently the alley’s vermin felt the same way.

Mice and moles, even a flying squirrel, scurried to follow the music, but their numbers were nothing compared to the rats.  Huge rats with long tails and big teeth poured down the walls, out of crevices, up from sewer grates, and into the alley.  The ground writhed and rippled in a sea of mangy, dun brown fur.

I felt compelled to dance down the alley after them.  If I hadn’t been practicing my mind focusing skills recently, I may have let my soul wander, trapping me in this vision forever.  It would be so easy to give in, to just let go.

Instead, I focused on Melusine.  The snake at her neck scented the air with its tongue, probably wishing it could grab a tasty rodent snack for the road.  But Melusine ignored her pet.  She slithered from side to side, pacing the narrow width of the alley.  When the flute music could no longer be heard, she rushed forward and the vision went dark.

The scale had torn from Melusine’s body, becoming lodged in the small crevice in the pavement, ending the vision.

I blinked rapidly as my eyesight and hearing began to return. The world around me coalesced into blurry shapes, but sound was muffled as if my ears were stuffed with cotton wool.  I took a ragged breath and shook my head.  My naked hand became visible and I flinched, dropping the serpent scale.

I pulled on my leather glove and sighed.  The vision was difficult to shake, the piper’s music still floating though my mind, but it could have been much worse.  My suspicions had been correct.  Melusine was involved in the kidnappings.