The Horned Lady of the Forest

Madailéin gripped the hickory staff to support herself as she stepped up onto the stone jutting out at the top of the waterfall. While she had the enhanced dexterity of one who had spent several lifetimes in the wild, the rocky surface was wet. She didn't fancy a swim at the bottom of the cascade.

She gazed out at the expanse of forested land that stretched as far as the eye could see. Madailéin had excellent vision. She could make out individual leaves on the trees miles away.

Far in the distance, shards of once soaring buildings jutted out of the foliage. The skeletal remains were a blight on the pristine forest. Madailéin shivered and turned away. Just the thought of the abundance of iron in the remains of the human city made her itchy.

As she stepped onto the shore, Madailéin was met by a cat the size of a large dog. Every inch of the feline was an inky black, except for a small patch of bright white fur on the chest.

“Hello, Maíre. Did you have a successful hunt?” Madailéin asked.

“Of course,” the Cat Sidhe replied, rubbing her body against Madailêin’s hip.

They began walking together, mostly in silence. Not that the forest was often truly silent.

Animals scurried or stalked through the trees. Birds twittered and sang high in the branches. Insects buzzed by their ears. Beyond the roar of the waterfall, the river burbled alongside them. Over all of that was the nearly constant rustle of leaves as the wind whistled through them.

While a human might not notice the sounds, Madailéin heard several other fairy creatures moving around the forest. There was nothing unusual about that. As long as they didn’t wish her harm, she was not concerned.

Some distance away, Madailéin could make out the familiar tread of Brogán’s footsteps. He would be with them before nightfall. Madailéin paused, turning her head in his direction with a perplexed expression. Brogán had a companion. Whoever it was followed erratically behind him, with much shorter steps.

Before Madailéin could dwell on who might be with Brogán, a figure crashed loudly through the brush.

“Ahhhh, help!” a small jackalope shrieked as it bounded past them. At least Madailéin thought that’s what it was. Although it had antlers, it was strangest jackalope she had seen. It was less sturdy jack rabbit and more lop-earred once domesticated pet.

It was closely followed by a feline roughly a quarter of the size of Maíre. It was covered in long brown, black, and orange fur. Both creatures disappeared into the rubble of what had once been a human dwelling.

Maíre looked up at Madailéin. “Do we help the horned bunny or mind our own business?”

Madailéin had always felt an affinity toward jackalopes. She liked all animals, but very few had antlers like her own. Of course, her antlers were much larger than a jackalope’s. They often brushed the lower branches of the trees.

“Let’s see if we can rescue the jackalope,” Madailéin replied. “Although the cat looked well-fed. I don't think it is intending to cause harm.”

“How can you tell? It was all fur.” Maíre chuckled.

“That's rich, coming from you,” Madailéin said with a grin. “I mean, you are both cats, after all.”

Maíre reared up until she was standing nearly as high as Madailéin’s shoulders. She continued walking upright for several steps. “I am no mere cat.”

“Remind me of that next time you want scritches behind your ears,” Madailéin laughed.

“Hmmph,” Maíre uttered as she stepped over the first ring of debris. “At least I can keep myself warm and protected from the elements. All you have is that delicate pale skin.”

Madailéin didn't respond as she followed the cat-sidhe. Ferns and other ground plants grew so thickly that the rubble within the remains of the foundation was nearly invisible. It made their footing difficult. Well, it made it hard for Madailéin to walk. Maíre traipsed around as if it were a flat surface.

“Did you see where they went?” Madailén asked.

“See? No.” Maíre replied. Her head moved slowly toward two of the largest trees growing within the debris. “I can smell them past those trees.”

Madailéin peered at the thick trunks and plant-covered stones. It looked as though the majority of the house had crumbled in that spot. Then she realized that a dark hole loomed between the trees.

She had to twist her head this way and that to maneuver her antlers through the space as she followed the cat-sidhe. Madailén was surprised that there was an actual enclosed space past the trees.

She fished a fairy stone out of her pouch, which began to glow. Within moments, it was emitting enough light to illuminate the cavern. The room was nearly untouched compared to the rest of the house.

Images depicting humans still hung on the walls. Madailéin assumed they had once lived there. Most of the wooden furniture was still standing, although anything covered in cloth had deteriorated.

What had once been a window was entirely blocked by a large tree trunk. The bark was wedged into the space enough to stop any drafts.

Madailéin turned to the far end of the room, where a fireplace still stood. Her antlers caught on a contraption of glass and metal hanging from the ceiling as she moved toward the hearth. Madailéin studied it curiously, then realized it was one of those things used to provide light back when humans still had access to electricity.

She wondered what had happened to the family that belonged to the house. The area was remote enough that they may have been relatively safe when the wars broke out. Maybe they weren't adept at living completely off the grid. Or they could have died off if there was no one around to procreate with. At any rate, no one had lived there in a long time.

Madailéin turned again as she heard a soft rumbling sound. Twin green orbs blinked as they reflected the light from the fairy stone. The cat was lying on the floor, purring. It had no fear of the cat-sidhe as Maíre hovered over her. The jackalope was sitting calmly nearby.

“I think we’ve been hoodwinked,” Maíre said. “Maybe they led us in here for some nefarious reason.”

Now the jackalope looked concerned. “We meant no harm to you. I am Fion.”

The cat stood, stretched, and sauntered over to Madailéin. It flopped down at her feet, rolling to present a fluffy, mottled belly.

Almost unable to resist, Madailéin squatted to give the cat a belly rub. She couldn't help thinking that Maíre might be right. It could be a trap. Although, the cat was certainly enjoying the attention.

“Well, this feline certainly doesn't seem very aggressive,” Madailéin replied. “Why was she chasing you?”

“Oh. No,” Fion said nervously. “I wasn't running from her. Gealach is my cat. She is descended from the felines that the humans kept as pets.”

“She’s bigger than you are. Are you sure you aren’t her pet?” Maíre laughed.

Fion didn’t respond but thumped her back foot irritably.

Madailéin petted the cat once more before rising to her full height. “Why the cry for help?”

She heard the faint sound of rubble being displaced outside the room, as if someone had stumbled on a hidden piece of stone. Out of the corner of her eye, Madailéin saw Maíre stand upright with her fur fluffed up in warning.

Madailéin pulled her sword from her scabbard as she spun toward the entrance. She had lovingly crafted the weapon from a deer antler over a century ago.

Gealach hissed and darted under a dilapidated chair. Fion hopped forward to cower behind Madailéin’s legs. She could feel the jackalope shaking.

“They’ve found us,” Fion gasped.

“What have you gotten us into?” Maíre growled.

The shaking increased. “I’m sorry. Only I thought you might be able to help. They’ve been hunting us.” Fion said.

Before they could ask for more details, a spindly creature emerged from the dark entrance. He was short, reaching just below Madailéin’s waist. He wore a sinister smile full of pointed teeth and a nearly brown hat upon his head.

“Now, now. There’s no need for weapons,” the goblin said. “I was only looking for a quick nibble.” Considering that his cap would normally have been damp and dark red with blood, it seemed he hadn't eaten in some time.

Madailéin shifted her grip on her sword, but didn't resheath it. “Why would a red cap bother hunting animals as small as these? I would think you’d prefer larger prey.”

The red cap laughed. “I prefer human flesh, but I haven't seen any in these parts in decades, after I ate the last resident of this abode. I’m a bit peckish, ain’t I? I’d hunt closer to the shore, but Wolfy is overly protective of the few humans there.”

“Well, Fion and Gealach are under my protection,” Madailéin said dangerously. “Why don't you try hunting in the cities? Most of the remaining humans don't stray far from them.”

“Nah. Too much iron,” he replied. “Besides, they are like feral beasts in the cities.”

Before Madailéin could reply, Maíre pounced on a mouse that had come in behind the red cap.

“Argh! Get off me!” it cried as it shifted into a goblin-like creature.

Maíre circled him. “Who are you? Why is a púca hanging around with a red cap?”

The púca shifted into a human form and bowed. “I am Damhán. I ran into Cúán and made a deal with him. I would help him hunt if he agreed not to eat me.”

“It's not like a shapeshifter to wander too far from others, especially humans. Isn't it hard to maintain a form when no one can see you?” Madailéin asked Damhán.

“Hence why I chose to stay with Cúán. I grew bored with the humans a long time ago. They were much more interesting while they were busy killing each other.” Damhán grinned.

Maíre bared her teeth. “I’ve heard that púcas were involved with inciting the human wars.”

“Yeah? Maybe a few here and there.” Damhán agreed. “In all honesty, there was no need for us to get involved. Humans had become so self-centered and angry that they didn't need much incentive to fight.”

He wasn’t wrong. What started as differences of opinion turned into random attacks. The perpetrators felt justified in murdering anyone who didn't agree with their way of thinking.

The disdain for human life went all of the way to the top. Their leaders encouraged the behavior. They declared war on each other, even within their own countries.

Eventually, the countries with nuclear weapons hit the buttons. Millions of lives were evaporated in one fell swoop.

Madailéin had lived for centuries. She had witnessed many human wars. Never had they escalated to the point of the near annihilation of the human race. Madailéin wouldn't be surprised if they had been influenced by púca and other members of the Unseelie Court despite Damhán’s insistence that they’d had little to do with it.

Damhán shifted to a male version of Madailéin, interrupting her thoughts. He reached up to touch the magnificent rack that sprouted from his skull. “How do you function with these? They are so heavy. They are giving me a headache.” He shifted again, this time to a large canine resembling a coo-sidhe.

“So…what do we do now?” Cúán asked. “Are we going to fight it out, or are you going to give me the rabbit?”

Madailéin narrowed her eyes. “If you wish to fight, I’m more than willing to introduce you to my blade. But you should know that ‘Wolfy’ is almost here. I’m sure he’d be happy to participate in combat.”

Cúán shifted from one foot to another. His tongue flicked out and licked his twisted lips as he took one more look at Fion. “Right. I’ll be on my way then. You coming Damhán?”

“If you insist,” the púca replied. He followed the red cap back through the entrance and out of the rubble.

Maíre trailed behind them. When Madailéin slipped outside to collect firewood, the cat-sidhe was sitting on the edge of a broken wall, making sure the pair didn't double back.

Back inside, Madailéin knelt in front of the hearth and uttered a series of shrill whistles. They were followed by the sound of flutters and a shower of debris as the resident chimney swifts abandoned their nests.

Madailéin rubbed her hands together as she whispered a spell. She blew on her hands. A gust of wind flew up the chimney, clearing the blockages of decades of disuse.

Finally, she piled up the debris that could act as kindling and discarded the rest. After adding the logs and a magical spark, Madailéin settled herself on the floor to enjoy the merrily burning fire.

Gealach crawled out from under the chair and curled up in Madailéin’s lap. Fion hopped over and snuggled up against the fairy. Soon, Maíre returned and sprawled in front of the hearth. The displaced chimney swifts flew into the room to perch on Madailéin’s antlers.

“Well, isn’t this a cozy sight?” Brogán exclaimed in a raspy voice.

Madailéin's smile turned to shock as she turned to look at him. A small, wide-eyed human clung to Brogán’s leg. An even smaller human slumbered in the crook of his arm.

“Why did you bring them here?” she gasped. Madailéin knew he’d always had a soft spot for humans, but this was a bit extreme even for him.

The wulver tossed a net bag containing fish toward her. “Their mother was taken by illness shortly before I arrived. There was no one else to care for them. They would have starved to death…or worse.”

“But…we can’t take them into the fairy world. They are too young to make that choice, and I will not be a party to kidnapping them,” she insisted.

Brogán nodded. “I agree. We can raise them here. This seems like a safe place to make a home together, short of the residual foul odor of red cap and púca. It’s rather cave-like in here. I like caves.”

“Yeah, they were chasing Fion and Gealach. We’ve sent them on their way.” Madailéin said.

She turned back to the fire. Was she willing to do this? Madailéin had always watched the humans from afar. She didn't entirely dislike them. Only she preferred the company of animals.

“It’s not all that much different than you taking in that cat and rabbit,”Brogán persisted.

Fion shot him an annoyed look. “I’m a jackalope, thank you.”

Brogán shrugged. “If you look like a rabbit and you smell like a rabbit, as far as I’m concerned, you are a rabbit. You’re just a bit fancier.”

“How will we provide for them?” Madailéin asked, interrupting their spat.

“The same way we provide for ourselves. We‘ll hunt and fish.“ Brogán replied.

A wary bleat sounded from outside. Madailéin raised an eyebrow at him.

“They had a goat. I figured it could provide milk.” Brogán replied. “It’s understandably skittish, although it did allow me to tie a rope around its neck. But it refused to come inside.”

Gealach left Madailéin’s lap and weaved her way over to the older human. She rubbed against the child’s legs, eliciting a smile.

Madailéin had to hand it to the kid. For all that she was obviously upset and confused, she was handling it pretty well. Most humans would be freaking out in the presence of a man with a wolf‘s head and a woman with antlers.

Madailéin rose and walked up to Brogán. She planted a kiss on his snout and tried not to laugh as he nuzzled her neck. As much as she wanted to stay wrapped in his available arm, Madailéin pushed herself away from him and walked toward the doorway between the trees.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

Madailéin grinned at him. “To get your goat before something eats it.”

She found it tethered to a nearby tree. Its legs locked up as she neared it, causing it to fall over as if it had fainted. Madailéin shook her head. “Goats,” she muttered as she knelt down next to it.

Taking its horns in her hands, Madailéin bleated softly until it calmed down. She untied the rope and led it into the now toasty room.

Madailéin looked around. Brogán was right. This would make a good home for their odd assortment of creatures. It was an old structure, especially as far as human homes went. There was no iron to make the fairy folk ill. She and Brogán could raise the younglings in the ways of the fairy, with a love and respect for nature.

She heard a faint, contented sigh as her mind was made up. It was almost as if the former inhabitants —or maybe even the room itself —approved. They may not be conventional, but there would once again be a family living within those walls.