Fairy Thief by Johanna Frappier Read Free Book Online

The dark of night suddenly felt too close. The green and yellow flickering star was behind black clouds – she was cut off from the universe; and the here and now was so constricting she had a difficult time breathing. She heard another strange sound, a whine, and felt the sudden press of something wrong. Fear turned to anger as she berated herself for being out in the dark searching for a dead woman.
    What if Jethin was around? He had left her to die and she wasn’t dead. Would he come back to finish what he’d started? She heard another cry. The woman was taking forever to jump tonight. Saffron forced herself to move. She straightened her shoulders and held her head up. This is the new you, she reminded herself, you are going to become the new you by ‘sustained effort.’ Y ou’re going to go help that woman. Now.
    She rounded a low hill and a mound of scrub-brush. Several yards ahead, the woman cried out as she walked along the cliff, very close to the edge. Saffron pushed forward, looked down at her feet and counted her steps as she walked. The wind-shriek hurt her eardrums, and the saturated sea air was soaking her hair into clumps that hung over her eyes. Between the sound of the wind and the high tide that was bashing the sea against the boulders below, Saffron had to hold her ears. She would have to yell to be heard above the din.
    The moon shone bright through the body and clothes of the small, ghostly woman. It cast a phosphorescent tinge on the dark rocks all around her.
    Saffron cupped her mouth with her hands. She swallowed the lump in her throat and took one last, deep breath. “Stop!” Saffron cried out so loud, her voice cracked. She rolled her eyes. She had meant the word to come out strong, commanding. It was nothing more than a hysterical bark that fell limply at her feet. She tried again, louder, and forced her voice deeper. “You...don’t...have...to...do...this!”
    The woman didn’t acknowledge Saffron. She continued along, at a slower rate, dragging her feet — as if her ghostly weight were too much to bear. Suddenly, she stopped and faced the sea.
    Saffron’s entire body was jitter-dancing. This was it, the moment when the woman would finally jump. She looked over one shoulder, then the other. Of course, there was no help coming her way. Why had the woman stopped walking? Was the jump going to happen now, or what? Oh, Christ, lady, right now? I am not ready for this….
    The woman’s chest heaved as she sobbed, the tears streamed down her cheeks. She looked out across the sea, reached out with one hand — her eyes wide and frantic, her lips pressed. Whatever illusory thing she was reaching for remained unseen — she let her arm drop. Then without warning, she slapped a hand to her temple, raked at her hair, and started howling.
    Saffron stumbled back a few steps, her eyes and nostrils flaring in primordial response. Get out of here — run, RUN! But she didn’t run. She even took one step forward — it was all she could muster. Never had she been exposed to someone else’s raw pain like this woman’s. She felt like she was intruding – like she shouldn’t be seeing this. She looked back at the path that had led her there, and longed to run back. You have always been a runner.
    It was the way the woman was quietly weeping that made Saffron turn and face her once more. You can do this. She needed to get the woman’s attention, and quick. From several months’ experience, Saffron knew time was running out — the ghost woman would soon jump. Saffron shook her whole body. She cracked her knuckles. She lowered her head and looked up at the ghost from beneath her brows, then walked straight at her. Her gait wasn’t as confident as she would’ve liked – she was erratic and jerking, as if she were a marionette – but she was charging forward, for Pete’s sake. Fear, she figured between rapid breaths, dashed all hopes of grace. She stood right beside the ghost, looked at her chalky