Excerpt. Abductors by Bernadette Gabay Dyer

Abductors
Dyer, Bernadette Gabay
ISBN 13: 9781897381311
Paperback; perfect bound; 5.5 x 8.5

Sample Excerpt, © Rain Publishing Inc.

Chapter 1
Encounter on the Downs


It is said in some secret circles that the chalky expanse of the Sussex Downs in England is haunted by fairy folk. There are days there, when the wind blows just so, and if you listen carefully you can hear oak trees in the copse on surrounding hills, whispering strange babblings.
In that leafy glade, where the land rises, occasional fluttering noises might startle you; for people say the melancholy sound is like that of lonely wings beating, and surely is the sound of fairies.

If you were to follow well-worn paths, carved out over time in the underbrush by the incessant passage of dogs and walkers, you would surely find places where the air, heavy with strange nostalgia, will fill you with loneliness. Loneliness lives in the shy grey coloring of stones that dot the pathways. It thrives in their purposeful distancing, and even in the heart of sallow green mosses that delight with occasional pearl-like flowers, reminiscent of tears.

There is no mistaking the pungency of the sea in the salt laden air. In its fury it roars and moans pitifully against the jagged cliffs, not far from where the land dips.
It is an ideal setting for brave fairy men, who for generations have cast their flimsy boats upon that torrid sea, in quest of a barely remembered homeland.

The fairy women folk left ashore haunt the woodlands by daylight, and roam the Downs by night searching out human captives, even as they weep pitifully over the inevitable loss of their brave fairy men, and for them, there is no respite.

****
One dew drenched morning, a lone starling was witness, when a raven-haired human boy stumbled unsteadily across the chalk-encrusted soil on the Downs. But the starling soon lost sight of him, for the boy entered the copse, and the ancient bird was not to know that the boy had fallen unnoticed amongst the cool foliage. Neither did the starling know that no living person had seen the boy, or heard his moans, as he lapsed into unconsciousness. It was only fairy women, with their watchful eyes and silver fishing nets, who were up and about and ready after a long night of grieving, and cursing their confinement to this alien land called England. They felt that the land was never truly their home, though many years had passed since their fairy ancestors had made an uncharted landing on those very Downs. The impact had resulted in the loss of their strange airborne transport in a horrific crash. Dozens of fairy lives were terminated in that instant, leaving behind a mere handful of survivors to pass on their legacy and the memory of their true homeland.
****

The raven-haired boy, who was called Graeme, slumbered deeply in the auspicious setting as soft leaves and gentle moss cradled and comforted him like a warm quilt. No wonder there was a half smile on his sleeping face, for the sound of the distant sea kept him company, and sang a soft lullaby in his ear.

If by chance he were to have awoken, he would have heard a strange soothing piping, and he would have thought it not unlike the timbre of a melody he had heard in his childhood.
Though unbeknown to him, his sleeping form was met with many admiring glances from two fairy women, who looked no older than himself, since he was only seventeen.

Boldly, the two fairy women emerged from the thick foliage and drew closer. They had somehow managed to become separated from the rest of their accustomed swarm, and had been attempting to signal their exact location to the others by playing upon their tiny silver flutes.

Even in the half light they could see that the boy’s complexion appeared pale and almost translucent against his thick lashes, which were as dark as the starling’s wing. How surprising they thought, that his locks of hair were so unfathomably dark against such milky white skin. They stood over him for the longest time, absorbed in admiration.

Had the boy awoken, he would have been surprised; for the fairy women stood no taller than at his waist in height, and all their faces glowed with a strange inner beauty. Surely he would have noticed that their silver nets were at a ready, and that a mischievous eagerness danced in their smiles.

“Leave him be!” said one, as she suddenly pulled her net aside. “Let’s not bag this one just yet. Gibraltar will want to see to him. We should let her decide what to do with him, for she is the wisest of us all.”

“I dare say Marbid, why shouldn’t I have first dibs? He’s asleep in my bower, isn’t he?”

“Gibraltar knows the old ways, Penilop. I dare say she will know what to do with this kind of human.”

“What’s so different about this one, Marbid? He’s better looking than some I’ve seen, but in the end he’s still one of them, isn’t he?”

“Hush, I dare say. I just heard that starling on the Downs singing, and what he has to say is rather peculiar. Listen, Penilop! The starling’s song is saying that he saw this very human arrive here through a hole in the air!”

“Well, well, what a clever lad this one is! Imagine him finding an air tunnel! Our folk have been searching for one for centuries!! Now how do you suppose he came by it? Yes, you are right indeed, Gibraltar will want to see this one.”
****

Even as the fairies whispered conspiratorially, the air around them became ripe for a storm. Clouds heavy with moisture rolled threateningly across the heavens, and a purple haze painted the sky from one corner to the other. And oddly enough, the whole atmosphere was permeated with a peculiar buzzing sound, not unlike that of bees. A bolt of white lightning lit up the entire surroundings, as tremendous thunder crashes shook the very earth.

The two fairy women were strangely unmoved by the dissonance, for they paid no heed to the sudden calamity, nor to sheltering against the driving rain, or even the treacherous tree limbs and branches that flailed violently in the strong whooshing winds. Their eyes were fixed only on the boy asleep in the bower.

But the boy in his exhaustion was quite unaware of the storm, or that the copse trembled with violent rumblings around him. He did not know that sunlight had deteriorated, and it inevitably had brought a swarm of fairy folk, who fell out of the sooty darkness like locusts.

One by one the fairies stealthily approached the bower, irresistibly drawn, not only by the previous piping, but by the presence of the sleeping boy. As they drew closer, they too admired him. Surely there was something different about this boy, they thought. Though he wore pale denim jeans and a jacket, not unlike local human boys, it did not escape their scrutiny that this boy’s clothing were made in a far away country called Canada.

“What have we here?” cried the tallest fairy woman, whose long dark hair flowed like rivulets at her side.

“He’s handsome, isn’t he? I think I’ll claim him for my own. It would be so easy to slip my silver bracelet on his wrist. Wouldn’t you agree that he could be the one for me?”

“Suit yourself Gibraltar, but we mustn’t forget the old ways. His family too must be fairy chosen.”

“Hush Penilop, I’d swear you’d have him for yourself, old rules or not. But there are things revealed to me, and me alone in the eye of this vicious storm that even at this moment surrounds us. There is no doubt whatsoever in my mind that this human boy has had a history of contact.”
****

The skies grew increasingly darker and just as suddenly the fairies disappeared. It was as though they were never even there, and not a moment too soon, or else they might have been menaced by a Border collie dog. The dog had wandered into the foliage sniffing roughly as it barged about, attracted by the recent fairy presence that surely was invisible to its owner’s eyes.

But the curious animal was soon to be followed by its master Doctor Owen Carlton, a practitioner of psychology.

“Hey boy! Hey boy!” he shouted in exasperation. “Get back here you silly sod; thunder’s not going to hurt you.”

But the dog paid him no heed, bolting here and there as though playing tag. In his playfulness he tugged at his master’s trousers, never stopping until he managed to drag the doctor towards the exact spot where the young man lay hidden.

The dog’s barking and yelping was so urgent that the doctor approached cautiously, eyes darting……….