Welcome back to my series of excerpts from my upcoming fantasy novel Far From Mortal Realms! Today I'm combining two excerpts (or three, if snipping some language in the middle of the first turns it into two). These excerpts convey something of the magic, in both the literal and figurative sense, of the Fair Folk realms Abe and Adira are allowed to visit in the course of their law practice.
The first begins a few hours after the excerpt I posted previously. Abe is telling Adira where they're due to go next.
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How would you like to talk to some trees?”
“You mean dryads? Doesn’t that rather depend on the particular dryads?”
Dad’s grin made a welcome contrast to the fae version they’d both been enduring from the viscount that morning. “I don’t, in fact, mean dryads. This particular grove of trees has no interest in mimicking either human form or the more common faerie configurations. They typically communicate via the shifting patterns of their leaves in sunlight – year-round leaves in, for the most part, year-round sunlight. Not even other fae can understand it. They would like to welcome some sort of flowering plants, such as are common in our own fields and forests – rather than any fae equivalents that would have their own possibly incompatible personalities. They wish us to advise them on the best choice and assist in obtaining the necessary starter crop.”
Adira couldn’t stop her eyes from going wide. “And in order to do this . . . .”
Dad actually rubbed his hands together. “In order that we may communicate with them conveniently, they will temporarily grant us the ability to understand their language of light and shadow.”
How long would this job last? Oh, how tempting to drag her feet so it would last longer . . . .
[snip]
Several hours later, back at the office, Adira drifted somewhere between exhilaration and exhaustion. Even with the trees’ grant of comprehension, keeping track of the sometimes minute changes in light patterns required constant attention. But how lovely were the patterns, and how subtly different the silent voices of the various trees!
After discussing in what ways the trees had become dissatisfied with their ageless copses and glens, and confirming that actual flowers were preferred to moss, they had settled on bluebells. Someone would need to plant the initial bulbs, and it remained to be decided whether these workers would be mortal or fae – which meant Adira and her father would not yet have to relinquish their knowledge of the language. As for the patience needed to let the bluebells spread, trees had patience aplenty, and it pleased them that the flowers would be connected by a system of roots.
Later that afternoon, Abe and Adira move on to their next appointment. This excerpt begins by describing the portal the lawyers use to travel from their office to Fair Folk realms.
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It was always visible to them – and to Mom, maybe because she was a member of the family. Anyone else, or at least any other mortal, would see nothing there, and would walk through unaffected unless she or Dad intended them to do otherwise. What met Adira’s eyes, as usual, was an oval ring hovering an inch or so above the ground, just big enough for her to step through without ducking. It sparkled in ever-shifting colors in her peripheral vision, more like mist when she looked at it head-on, and showed a changing series of vistas. Only when they came within a yard of it would that view change to their destination. But what greeted her this afternoon was not so much a sight as the sensation of wind, and fine sprays of water on the wind, and the smell of salt.
She stopped in her tracks, only to find Dad grabbing her hand and pulling her forward.
They were standing on what might be called a cliff, about hill-height. And they were facing the sea, that salty wind in their hair, with small waves rolling in and breaking on a beach of silvery sand and scattered shells.
Adira turned to her father. “Dad, who are we waiting for? Are they coming by boat?”
He laughed, not mocking her but as if delight had filled him to overflowing and come out as laughter. “Wait just a minute, sweetheart, and you’ll see!”
She looked out at the horizon, breathing deep of the sea-scented air, and saw something emerging, or growing, or approaching. She couldn’t make out any details – and then she could, because she saw the backlit, translucent jade of waves, waves rushing toward them, waves growing taller and taller, until she was sure she and Dad would be drenched or even swept off the cliff –
And then the waves stopped, suddenly, just behind their far smaller counterparts breaking on the beach. Two enormous standing waves faced them, topped with high white crests ruffling in the wind and shedding spray all around.
Her jaw dropped, confronted with grandeur; and then snapped shut again, as she imagined surfing those waves, and shut the thought down in case these formidable fae, for so these two waves must be, could somehow sense that desire.
Dad, beside her, spoke into the hiss of the small waves that mounted the shingle and drew back again. “Hello again, Your Majesties. As we discussed, I have brought my daughter, who is my equal partner in all that we do. Let me make her known to you as Valentina, which in one of our tongues means ‘strong and powerful.’”
A rumble, not quite a roar, carried across the gulf between waves and cliff. “Welcome, counselors. . . ."
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The ocean rulers in the preceding scene were inspired by this extraordinary photograph by Darragh Gorman of Lighthouse Industries. If you're on Instagram, I recommend looking him up there.
Of course, setting is only the beginning of story, and traumatic events can take place in marvelous places. The next excerpt will be the beginning. . . .
To see where the story takes these characters, you can order the book here and start reading on September 15th.
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