That night, Emma dreamed of Fairy. As her mind wandered on the cusp of sleep, so did her eyes wander the cosmos and show her vision of the far-flung reality of Fairy. Her mind was as active as it had ever been while she was awake, yet her body was locked in a deep and restful oblivion. She saw the blue waters of Joyous Gard again, and the brown trees of Broceliande, and the green towers of Corbenic, and more. She saw insects nestling in the green moss with shells like bright, gold coins. She saw birds stirring the clouds with their sun-colored wings.

There was life everywhere--thriving, vibrant life.

It was hard for her to wake up. The moment her eyes began to flutter open, she wanted to close them.

But she knew she had things to do this morning. She was a woman who lived by constant effort. That she seemed to be a wastrel parasite that lived off the harvested goodwill of others was merely a testament to how disguised the effort. A life of easy living required hard work--hard work, and constant work.

She shook her head. She slapped her cheek. She forced herself to rise.

She groaned as she climbed out of bed. She didn’t know that she would dream of Fairy. But did it matter? So her dreams were now vivid. So what? It would take some getting used to, sure, but hadn’t she already done some adapting?

And wasn’t there a silver lining? If all her dreams were glimpses into Fairy, then she would never have nightmares.

She smiled as she reflected on that point.

She knew it would all work out for her. Things always did.

….

Emma had dressed in her finest clothes for the occasion. They would have been her Church clothes, if she ever bothered to go to Church. She wore a light green dress with a prominent bustle, as was the fashion of the time. It trailed out from behind her like a broad tail and beneath the fabric the wood work reminded her of some poor creature’s rib cage.

When she entered the tavern, her boyfriend Sam McDougal groaned. “Oh, Emmy, you didn’t tell me we were doing the thing today! I’m not ready!”

He was, of course, referring to their usual con where he would dress up in a little valley while she stood on a hill with the grieving parents and explain his miming as a ghostly representation of thanks for their gifts. He could look like anyone over the distance and in the right clothes. And to think, Emma’s mother told her that nothing good would come from marrying a short man!

“That isn’t today, Sam. In fact. You won’t need to play ghost anymore.” It took Emma a few moments to take her seat. The bustle kept getting in her way. She wished other women didn’t wear them, because then she wouldn’t have to wear them.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“I mean I’ve been talking with the faeries, Sam. For real. And they liked me enough to turn all my lies into truths!”

Emma explained yesterday’s events. Sam didn’t believe her. He nodded and went “Yes, yes, ah, yes.” but Emma could tell that he didn’t really believe her.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t have good reason not to believe her. She was a career liar. But it still bothered Emma. Couldn’t the idiot tell when she was telling the truth or not?

Sam saw how she was lookin at him.

“Emmy, why are you making that face at me?”

“Because I’m telling you the truth.”

“Oh, so you are, so you are.”

“No, idiot, I mean I really am telling you the truth. John-a-Doors visited me yesterday and gave me the power to actually see the dead who are in Fairy, and I can show what I see to others as well.”

Sam smirked. “Oh, really, Emmy? Then why don’t you show me?”

Emma glared hard at him. Her meeting with John-a-Doors had given her a disgust for smirking.

“I told you, the images took up my entire floor. I don’t want everyone here to see.”

“Why not? If you’re a real fairy woman now, then why not show your powers off?”

“Never do anything for free, idiot, especially if it's something only you can do. Have you ever heard about Ernst, Morton, and Glass showing people the afterlife?”

“No. But I bet they could do it if they wanted to.”

“No they couldn’t.”

“How do you know? They can do all kinds of things with their gaeite candles. They can make ghosts appear disappear, change, all kinds of things so why wouldn’t they be able to show people the afterlife?”

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“Did you not hear a thing I told you? They tried to lean on me because they knew ahead of time that I was about to become a real fairy woman.”

“I thought you said that was what you thought they were trying to do.”

“I might have said that was what I thought, but I meant that I know. Why else would they have done it? They’re jealous of a connection with Fairy that I have that they don’t!”

“Sounds like your story has a couple of holes in it, Emmy. You might want to do a little…revision, I think they call it.”

Emmy wanted to throw her glass of water in his face.

But then she had an idea.

John-a-Doors never said her displayed visions had to be such-and-such a size…

“Sam, look down into your glass.”

“Why should I? Is this some sort of trick?”

“Just do it!”

“Alright, alright, but if this is some kind of trick where you splash beer on me, I’m warning you right now that I’m going to slap you, Emmy.”

Sam looked into the bottom of his glass. He saw beer.

“So, when’s the magic supposed to happen?” Sam asked.

“Are you looking?”

“Yes, I’m looking! What, are the ripples in the beer supposed to be some--”

Sam gasped.

There, in his bottle, was Corbenic castle.

His spine hit the back of his chair.

Emma chuckles. “Oh, control yourself Sam, don’t cause a scene. This is quite good, actually, I wasn’t sure whether or not I could make images that small. And here I thought I covered all the angles with John-a-Doors.”

“How did you do that, Emmy?” Sam asked.

“How do you think? It’s like I told you, idiot. I have real fairy powers now.”

“That’s Fairy? Right there in my beer glass?”

“A vision of Fairy. Like a reflection in a mirror.”

Sam exhaled. “Good. For a moment, I was afraid you drowned a bunch of faeries.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. They can’t actually drown, can they? There wouldn’t be kelpies and selkies and all the rest of the watery group if faeries could drown.Still, I suppose dunking a castle of faeries in a beer bottle would have made them right crossed.”

She looked at him as if he were an idiot. Maybe her mother did have a point about little men?

‘Say, don’t look at me that way, Emmy!”

“Do you really think they would have let me move one of their castles into your drink?”

“Well, I figured that if they gave you real powers in exchange for you lying about them then they must not be very smart. And they could fit, certainly, my mother told me faeries were about the size of your finger. They wouldn’t have to be much smaller than that to fit. People call them the little people for a reason.”

“You should really call them the Kindly Ones. That’s the respectable term.”

“You never called them the Kindly Ones.”

“Shhhh!” Emma hissed. “Keep your voice down! Didn’t your mother ever teach you that the Kindly Ones are always listening?”

“If they can hear us all the way from Fairy then they can hear us whether we’re whispering or not, right?”

Emma fell quiet for a moment.

Sam actually had a good point, but she wasn’t about to admit it.

“Regardless, Sam, as the Kindly Ones are now officially my patrons--my good and just patrons--you will refer to them only as the Kindly Ones, is that clear?”

“Sure, sure, if that’s all we got to do to keep your powers. But Emmy, what’s the next step, here? What do I do now that you can put these visions everywhere?” Sam asked, a little concerned at his prospects. “If you can make real ghosts appear, what do you need me dressing up as ghosts for?”

Emma touched his shoulder. “Aw, Sam, I’ll always have a use for my little man. I just haven’t thought of one, yet. But you sit tight, I will. John-a-Doors told me that the Kindly Ones and myself are square. They don’t mind me doing my usual fairy woman act now that it isn’t an act. So Ernst, Morton, and Glass will just have to sit and cry as I bring home the jam, and biscuits, and those wonderful little cookies Mrs. McBride makes. So I’ll do that. I’ll show the clients how wonderful their children have it in Fairy, at least for a little while.”

Emma smiled, and Sam returned the smile. It was the same smile she gave him when she told him about their original con.

“But you know, Sam, since I’m technically offering the clients more with these powers, I don’t think it would be any sort of impropriety to ask them for a little more, don’t you think?”

Sam nodded enthusiastically. “Uh huh, uh huh! You should start charging for money, like those mediums in Blackwall do!”

Emma nearly slapped him. “No! You fool! You want us to press our luck? Did your mother not read to you a single fairy story? Taking advantage of their gift like that will have them turn us all into pumpkins!”

“B-But Emmy!” Sam stammered. “Aren’t we already taking advantage of the gift?”

“No. And let me be very clear to everyone that might be listening--there is no harm in suggesting that gratitude be proportional to services rendered. If I do a little more for my clients, and they find that they are a little more relieved to see their loved ones in their true environments, and they decide to show a little increased gratitude for my actions, well, it would be rude not to accept their gratitude, wouldn’t it? I’m not saying what form that increased gratitude may take, but if it happens to be in the form of a check, well, that’s just justice, isn’t it?”

“Fairy lords and ladies!” Sam said. “If you all happen to be listening to us please know that Emmy and I think you’re all a bunch of very keen Kindly Ones!”

Emma gripped his shoulder. “Leave the talking to me, dear.” she suggested sharply.

Emma stood up. Her bustle crinkled as she left her chair. “Sam, I’m off to show the Andersons their girl. Tell my sister what I’ve told you when you get the chance. Tell her that she won’t need to buy that dress she’s been eyeing--I’m going to buy her the one she really wants.”

“Where are you going to show them? Are you taking them to the valley?”

“Yes. I figured I could make the display cover the entire valley! Wouldn’t that be grand and awe-inspiring?”

“Can you actually do that?”

“Of course.”

“You’ve done it before?”

“Well, no. I’ve only put a display on my kitchen floor and in your cup, but if I can do that, surely I can put it on the valley ground?”

Sam crossed his arms. “Hmmm…are you sure you’re okay, Emmy?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, are you sure you're okay with all these fairy things?”

Emmy chuckled. “Oh Sam, why wouldn’t I be?”

“It just seems to me you haven’t covered all your bases, Emmy. If you don’t know for sure whether or not you can stretch your display across the valley, why, there might be other things you’re overlooking.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. And that’s what’s bothering me. The only ones that I know have all the angles covered are the Kindly Ones, and you know how tricky they’re supposed to be going by all the old stories.”

Suddenly, Emma thought of John-a-Doors’ smile, but she quickly thought down the idea.

She turned away quickly so that Sam wouldn’t be able to read the worry on her face and started for the door.

“It’s going to be fine, Sam. I know what’s going on. You just do what I say like always and everything will work out.”

But Emma was speaking to herself as much as she was speaking to Sam.

Outside the tavern, Emma took a deep breath.

This was going to work, she was sure of it. Things always worked out for her.