The Watchtower by Lee Carroll Read Free Book Online

of flower fairy and that they first appeared in Paris with the advent of the great Gothic cathedrals, but whether they were attracted to the area because of the windows or if they originally inspired the creation of the first stained-glass windows, there continues to be dispute--"
    Jean Robin was interrupted by a violet-colored fairy loudly chattering in his ear.
    "Yes, yes," he said, his gnarled features creasing with merriment, "I'll tell her that. My friend has reminded me that there's a long tradition amongst the lumignon that Abbot Suger was introduced by Eleanor of Aquitaine to a lumignon who inspired him to create the windows of Saint-Denis."
    I recalled what Oberon, the King of Fairies, had told me about the relationship between mortals and fey: "The humans we touch bloom in our company. They do their best work while we drink of their dreams." Thinking of the great flowering of Gothic stained-glass windows under the direction of Abbot Suger, it wasn't hard to imagine that he'd been touched by the fey.
    "And then there are the fees de la mer, " Jean Robin said in a graver tone. The violet lumignon on his shoulder startled at the name and flew into the air. All the light fairies that had been roosting on top of Jean Robin took wing, like a flock of finches at the passing of a hawk's shadow.
    "Sea fairies? What would they be doing in Paris?" I asked.
    "They aren't native to the region. In fact, the tree and light fairies refer to them, somewhat disparagingly, as 'the boat people.' They came down from the sea on the Seine, exiles from a great cataclysm. Some say it was the drowning of the island of Ys."
    The name Ys stirred an old memory. My mother had told me a story once of a fabled kingdom off the coast of Brittany ruled by nine priestesses and one king. The king's daughter Dahut gave the keys of the sea gate to a traitor, who opened the gates and drowned the city.
height="0em" width="1em" align="justify">"The boat people were the founders of the Seine's boatmen's guild, which gave Paris its coat of arms and motto: fluctuat nec mergitur --'she is tossed by the waves, but does not sink.' They tend to be a bit haughty, as exiled royalty often are, but there's no denying that they have been responsible for the greatest scientific and aesthetic achievements--"
    A crimson light fairy dive-bombing into Jean Robin's face put a stop to his speech. He chuckled good-naturedly. "Well, enough of that. I imagine you are more interested in learning the whereabouts of your friend the vampire."
    "I'm not entirely sure he is my friend," I answered, "but, yes. Of course, I appreciate all you've told me about the different kinds of fairies ... it's fascinating..."
    "Tut, tut," he said, blushing green, "no need to flatter an old man, although it is nice to have a visitor with a brain larger than a nit." I would have expected another dive-bomb attack from the lumignon at this remark, but instead I felt the brush of wings against my skin, and looking down, I saw that several of the multicolored fairies had settled on my arms and in my lap. "Your voice is so much more soothing than their eternal whine. You must visit again."
    "I'd love to, only I do have to find Will Hughes first. Have you ... I mean, have any of your informants seen him at Saint-Julien's?"
    "Yes, he showed up in Paris during the winter and began to frequent the church every day. At first we paid no mind to him. Over the centuries he's come many times to Saint-Julien's. In fact, the park outside the church was where I first met him."
    "Wait, you met Will? Before you became ... were turned into..." My agitation caused the lumignon on my arm to stir, but then they stroked my arm to calm me down, which, oddly, worked.
    "Before I entered my arboreal state? Yes. We both were mortal then, and we both had foolish notions of what might gain us immortality. I had just planted this tree. I remember I bragged to him that I looked to trees for my immortality, and he said to me that he