Fae Games

Chapter 1-1

“SORRY, KID. I wish I could help you, but you know how it is.”

I gave the manager of the coffee shop a weary smile. “I appreciate you taking time to talk to me.”

“I heard one of the hotels in Hoboken is looking for maids,” she said as I turned to leave.

“Thanks.” I didn’t bother to ask which hotel because there was no way I was getting a job across the river. My parents would never allow it. I hadn’t told them I was extending my job search into lower Manhattan. I figured I’d wait until I found a job before I brought it up. If Dad had his way, I wouldn’t leave Brooklyn until I went to college.

I left the warm shop and stepped out into the brisk November air. Pulling up the collar of my coat, I leaned against the building while I contemplated my next move. It was late afternoon and I’d been out here all day, but I wasn’t ready to give up yet.

I pushed off from the building, and a poster tacked to the wall of the newsstand next door caught my eye. It was an Agency recruitment poster, featuring a male and a female agent, both sharp and attractive in their crisp black suits. “THE FAE ENFORCEMENT AGENCY NEEDS YOU,” it read in big bold letters.

Beneath the poster was a rack of celebrity gossip magazines. My eyes skimmed the covers, and I wasn’t surprised to see the front-page story on every one of them was about the new Seelie prince and his upcoming introduction to society. There weren’t any pictures of him, so no one knew yet what he looked like, but the entertainment world had been abuzz with speculation for months. The closer we got to his big debut, the more the excitement built.

I didn’t get what all the fuss was about. Sure, we hadn’t had a new Fae prince since before I was born, but it wasn’t as if there weren’t already a ton of royals for people to gawk at. What was one more? There were more important things to obsess over, such as the shortage of jobs.

“Come back here, you little freak!” yelled a man’s voice.

I looked up the crowded sidewalk and caught sight of a tiny figure weaving between the pedestrians, with a large angry man in hot pursuit. The kid, who couldn’t be more than eight or nine, was a dozen feet from me when I saw pointed ears protruding from his white-blond hair, and luminous green eyes. His face and clothes were filthy, and he looked scared out of his wits.

As he came abreast of me, my hand shot out and snagged his thin arm. In one move, I yanked him forward and shoved him behind me into the narrow gap between the newsstand and the coffee shop. I backed up, hiding his small body with mine and ignoring the tiny hands pushing ineffectually at my backside.

The man slowed to a stop, his mean face mottled and sweaty as he furiously scanned the area. When he didn’t spot his quarry, he let loose a loud string of profanities that earned him looks of censure from the people around him.

Behind me, the elf boy whimpered, and I put a hand on his shoulder. “Shhh.”

The man stomped away, halting at the intersection to look around again. I didn’t know what beef he had with the elf, and I didn’t care. There was no good reason to chase down a child like he was an animal.

Feeling eyes on me, I looked across the busy street and caught sight of a tall, dark-haired man watching me. He was in his early twenties, handsome and well-dressed in dark pants and a gray shirt that did nothing to hide his powerful physique. I was pretty sure he was a faerie, but he was too far away to say for certain.

He continued to watch me, probably wondering why I would go out of my way to protect an elf street urchin. I stared back in a silent challenge, while praying he didn’t tip off the other guy.

I let out a breath when a silver SUV pulled up beside him and he looked away from me. He and a blond male, who also looked Fae, got into the back of the car without another glance in my direction.

“Hey! Let me go,” wailed a muffled voice behind me, dragging my attention from the departing SUV. I glanced around to make sure the elf’s pursuer had moved on, and then I stepped aside to free the little guy.

His pale face was pinched in indignation. “What did you do that for?”

“Do what? Save you from that brute?”

He drew up to his full height, which was all of four feet to my five-seven. “I don’t need no saving. I can take care of myself.”

“Yes, I can see that,” I retorted, taking in his gaunt face and brittle eyes that had probably witnessed more than any child should ever have to see. Life on the street was rough, but it had to be twice as hard for children, especially faeries.

I opened my mouth to ask him if he was alone out here, but he bolted before I could speak. I watched him dart away through the passersby, who paid him no heed. It was a sad statement about our society that the sight of a homeless child didn’t make people bat an eye.

No longer in the mood to wear a polite smile, I decided to call it a day and resume my job search tomorrow. I stuffed my hands into my coat pockets and headed to the subway station half a block away. Passing storefronts with festive holiday decorations in the windows, I was reminded I still hadn’t started my Christmas shopping. Knowing Mom, she already had our presents wrapped and hidden in her closet. I smiled to myself. There was no one as organized as my mother.

It wasn’t until I was at the subway turnstile and reaching into my back pocket for my MetroCard that I realized my day had taken another downward turn. I felt around in my pocket a few times to be sure, and then checked my other pockets, before my shoulders sagged. That little bugger had picked my pocket and made off with my card and the ten dollars I’d had there.

Way to go, Jesse. I patted my coat pocket, relieved to find my phone still there. At least he hadn’t gotten that.

Heaving a sigh, I turned away from the booth. I cast one last longing glance at the train before I climbed the stairs to the street. I had a long walk ahead of me, and if I wanted to make it home before dark, I needed to get moving.

A bus passed me as I neared the bridge, and my lip curled at the video ad playing on the side of the bus. It was for one of those entertainment shows, promoting their upcoming exclusive interview with the as-yet-unseen Seelie prince. We had faerie kids living in the gutter and stealing change to survive, and the country was obsessed with some royal faerie who hadn’t known a day of suffering in his pampered life.

Thirty years ago, when the Great Rift happened, my parents had been kids. A tear had formed between our world and the faerie realm, forcing the faeries to reveal their existence to us. At first, there had been widespread panic, but once people got over their shock, they embraced the Fae with open arms.

Well, some of the Fae. The beautiful, immortal Court faeries, who looked like genetically-perfect humans, were accepted immediately. Among them were the Royal Fae, who became instant celebrities and moved in the upper circles of society. Lower Fae races such as dwarves, elves, trolls, and many others, lived among us, but their lives weren’t as easy as the upper Fae. They had to deal with bigotry and hardships that their beautiful upper class didn’t need to worry about.

Mom and Dad loved to tell me stories about what life was like before the Great Rift. I found it hard to imagine a world where faeries and magic existed only in books. The old movies we watched that were made before the Rift didn’t feel real to me.

What did feel real was the cold drizzle that started just as I reached the halfway point of the bridge. “Great,” I muttered, increasing my pace. Not that it made any difference. By the time I reached the Brooklyn side, the drizzle had become a steady rain, and I could barely see through my glasses.

I was soaked through and chilled to the bone by the time our three-story brick building finally came into view. I spotted a tall, dark-haired figure getting out of a blue Jeep Cherokee farther down the street. My father looked up, and his smile became a frown when he took in my appearance. I didn’t need a mirror to know I resembled a drowned rat.

“Don’t ask,” I grumbled when he met me at the steps. One thing I didn’t do well was lie to my parents, and I really didn’t want to tell Dad I’d gone to Manhattan and gotten my money stolen.

He chuckled and followed me into the building. “That good, huh?”

I glowered at him as Mrs. Russo came out of her apartment the moment we entered the small lobby.

“Patrick, the pipes in my bathroom are making that noise again,” said the eighty-year-old widow, her messy updo at least five shades redder than my ginger curls.

Dad rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Russo. I’ll look at them tomorrow if you can wait until then.”

“That’ll be fine.” She smiled warmly at him, and then her gaze narrowed on me. “Child, are you trying to catch your death, running around like that?”

I was saved from answering by the arrival of a stocky, gray-skinned dwarf with scruffy black hair, who came through the front door behind us, pushing a bicycle. He stopped when he saw the three of us and lifted a hand in greeting. “Evening,” he mumbled in a guttural voice.

“Hey, Gorn,” I said as he propped his bike against the wall beneath the mailboxes and opened his box.

He grunted and flipped through his mail. With a curt nod in our direction, he grabbed his bike and wheeled it to his door, which was directly across from Mrs. Russo’s.

If he were human, Gorn’s behavior would seem standoffish and rude. But as far as dwarves went, he was downright sociable.

“Such a nice boy.” Mrs. Russo gave an approving nod. “Never has much to say, but he always takes out my garbage for me.” She patted my father’s arm. “You’re a good man, Patrick, for letting his kind live here.”

Mrs. Russo spoke with the candor of someone who had lived a long life and felt they had earned the right to say whatever they wanted. But we knew she didn’t have a racist bone in her body. When she said “his kind,” she meant lower faeries, not just dwarves. Many landlords refused to rent apartments to lower faeries, and they were not required by law to do so. That meant most faeries, like Gorn and the quiet elf couple on the second floor, were forced to live in slums and pay exorbitant rents.

I was proud to say my parents were nothing like those landlords. Our building might be a little dated, and something usually needed repairs, but anyone was welcome as long as they weren’t criminals. Not that the criminal element was stupid enough to come around here.