Night Lights in the Forest – 8

Regan flew out of the house with Pat right behind him.
“Where are you going?” She asked nearly shouting.
Regan stopped and turned back to face his wife, “I’m going to try to track them. What else?”
Pat approached him, took his hands in hers and looked deeply into his eyes. “Um, I know we shouldn’t, but wouldn’t it be easier if…”
Regan shook his head, “No, I’m not ready to do that yet. Maybe soon, but not yet.”
She smiled, “This is where I trust your sensitivity and wisdom, Aranhil.”
Smiling, Regan said, “Are we reverting to our Elven names so quickly my lovely Aegliriell?”
Blushing, she said, “Not just yet. I just think that sometimes we need to remember who we really are.”
Taking Pat’s hands in his own, “I have never forgotten. Each day when I see you and our beautiful daughters, I am reminded of who we are and why we have spent these many years in hiding from the Fae.”
“You may need magic to find them.”
“True, but using magic will also reveal our existence and location to them. I am not yet ready to do that. Let me look as a man would first. If that does not work—”
Pat moved in, grasped him firmly with her arms, pressed her face between his neck and shoulder and whispered, “I know.” She then released him, “Well, off with you then Regan MacDonald and bring the bairn home with you.”
Regan took Pat’s head between his hands, bent down and kissed her. “I will do everything in my power to do exactly that. But first, I need to find out where they went and what happened to them. I’ll be back.”
He turned and strode across the yard and headed toward the forest. Once into the grass, he could see where the girls had walked the night before. Following their path into the forest, Regan came up the edge of a clearing. He could see clear signs of a struggle and many foot prints.
He turned back toward the clearing and stepped into it. His skin began tingling instantly and a sense of what occurred the night before played through his mind’s eye.
Regan sat down at the base of a tree facing into the clearing. He knew that for him to see that scene clearly, to get the full effect, he’d have to use magic. He needed to ponder the ramifications of that decision.
A creaky, creepy tenor voice broke the silence. “Greetings, Aranhil. It has been a long time.”
Regan stiffened.

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