Chapter 1 - Melissa

“Welcome to The Shamrock,” I said, fingers tapping on the register to the rhythm of the 1812 Overture. “How may I help you?”

“I want some Irish Potatoes, a Lucky Burger, no cheese,” a bulbous man in a Hawaiian print shirt droned on the other side of the counter.

“Would that be all sir? You sure you don’t want a drink with that?” I rattled off, my cheeks aching from the smile stretched across my lips.

“Let me finish, first,” he snapped, glaring at me through beady eyes before glancing back to the menu screen overhead.

My eyes flitted down to the register screen where four numbers glowed along the top, reading: 6:58 PM. My fingers tapped a little faster.

“Fine, that’s it. How much?”

“Five ninety five.”

“Are you sure you took that right?”

I glanced down at the screen, one LKBR and one IRPO. “One Lucky Burger and one Irish Potatoes, no drink.”

“You don’t pay six bucks for a burger and fries!”

“I’m sorry sir, that’s how much it costs.”

“I still don’t think you recorded that right, get me a manager.”

My eyes flitted down to the register for a moment to the numbers, 7:01 PM. My smile widened and I nodded to the man before heading towards the back drive thru window.

I tapped the man hunched over the window as he took money from a silver car. “David, I’ve got to clock out and you have an angry customer.”

“Have a nice day,” the manager chimed to the car before it sped off. He stood, looking to me with a sigh. “Come on, Melissa, it’s the middle of dinner rush. Another hour won’t kill you.”

“I’ve already put in two extra hours on top of a ten hour shift,” I said. “I know you’re shorthanded, but I need some sleep and I’ve got a paper due at midnight that I haven’t started yet.”

“You’re the one who asked me for all the extra hours,” David said, his scowl making the freckles on his pale cheeks stretch and his bushy eyebrows go down to hide his dark eyes.

“I’m not going to get any sleep tonight as it is,” I pleaded. “I’ll come in for an early shift tomorrow, please.”

“Fine,” David conceded, his hand combing through his shaggy brown hair. “The card’s in the office with your check. Get here at eight.”

“Thanks, Dave,” I said, grinning as my shoulders sagged. “I owe you big time.”

“Well,” David said with a grin. “I noticed you had Friday off. Maybe we could see a movie or something.”

“You know I’m too busy,” I said. “There’s not anything good showing anyway, is there?”

“There’s a new chick flick that got some good reviews,” he said. “It could be fun.”

“A chick flick? You wouldn’t have any fun if I hurled all over you,” I said, mustering a small grin.

He laughed a little, a crooked smile quirking his lips. “Well nobody said we had to watch the movie the whole time.”

“When I’ve got time,” I said, turning toward the office. “Just not Friday.”

“Alright, it’s a date!” Dave said after me. “Oh, remember that sweepstakes the main office entered us in last fall?”

“Yeah,” I called back over my shoulder. “What about it?”

“They sent you something, clipped it to your check.”

“Thanks,” I said as I slipped into the office. I leaned against the wall, heaving a sigh with a groaning edge.

I pushed off the wall to the desk and rummaged through the messy stacks of documents littering the surface. I grabbed two envelopes with the name ‘Melissa Danforth’ and a bright green card, then headed out the office door back to the two registers up front. David’s scrawny frame leaned over one register, groveling to the Hawaiian shirt customer with tiny gestures. I quickly swiped the card through the slot of the empty register, pressed a few buttons, and tore my receipt from the printer. Without looking back, I trotted through the front doors to a faded gray Camry parked up front.

I trailed my hand along the hood before parking into the driver’s seat. I reached up to the rearview mirror, only to spot a woman in her early twenties with black roots showing through her purple pixie cut, metal baubles cluttering her round face and inky pictures of mythical creatures coating her olive complexion. I tilted the mirror up so that the rear of my car replaced my reflection.

The engine rumbled with a familiar sputter and I shot out of the parking lot into the next intersection. The light glowed red and I glanced over toward the little stack of papers lying on the passenger seat. I reached over to the envelope with the four leaf clover surrounded by Celtic knots. I flipped on the overhead light and held the paper up; the shadow of a large black W showed through, but nothing else. My eye brows pinched together and I ripped open the seal.

“Winner…Congratulations Mister or Miss,” I muttered along with the letter. “You recently entered The Shamrock Inc.’s ‘Win a trip to Ireland!’ sweepstakes. Enclosed with this letter is a two-way ticket to your destination, directions to your hotel from the airport, and a gift card for your spending needs. Calls will be made with your store manager to arrange your week off and a check will be sent via mail with forty hours worth your salary to compensate for missed work.”

My brows knitted together even more as I combed through the rest of the letter. I set the paper aside, peeking into the envelope. Sure enough, a plane ticket, map, and credit card lay inside. I sat there, staring dumbfounded at the envelope until the blaring of a horn broke my reverie. I looked up at the green light and gunned the accelerator.

I drove along the road at near five miles above the speed limit, a mixture of disbelief and dread raging through my stomach. Finally I got to my building and buzzed in. I charged up the stairs and into my dinky apartment. I flung my visor to the futon and rushed to the cell phone still hooked up to the charger beside the sink.

“Hello, Shamrock’s, how may I help you?” David’s voice answered on the other line.

“What kind of crap are you guys pulling over there?” I growled into the phone.

“Oh, Melissa, it’s just you. Congrats on winning the Ireland trip.”

“You can drop the act, Dave, there’s no way this is real.”

“No act, I just got the call from the main office about your one week leave,” he said. “It’s going to be a pain re-working the schedule, but I’ll manage.”

“So help me, if I get to the air port and this ticket’s a dud, you’re the first on my hit list,” I said.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m shaking,” David said with a laugh. “Have fun on the trip.”

I blinked as the other line clicked and returned the phone back to its receiver. I looked down to the envelope, still clutched in my hand.

“A little break wouldn’t kill me, I guess, and finals are over soon,” I mused aloud, placing the envelope on the counter and reaching up to open the cupboard. My hand groped for a canister as I glanced over to the murky fish bowl beside the sink. The generically named ‘Goldie the Fifth’ lay motionless on the surface of the water and with a sigh I made my way to the bowl.

“It’s nothing personal,” I said to the single beady eye staring up at me as I carried the bowl to the sink. “Goldfish die all the time, it was meant to happen. You were doomed from the time I bought you, anyway. God knows I barely have time to take care of myself. Now at least you can swim with all your fishy friends in…whatever celestial pool you guys go to.”

I poured the dirty water along with the fish’s remains down the garbage disposal and flipped the wall switch. The drain roared to life then died to a tranquil hum. I saluted the drain with a flick of my hand and let the bowl fall into the sink with a too loud ‘clank’. I winced as the sound echoed off the kitchen walls and stood there as quiet again reigned supreme. I sped to the futon, opening my laptop set on top of the nearby crates and pressed the power button hard until the screen came to life. Soon the relieving clack, clack, clack of the keyboard filled the room.

The rest of the week passed in a blur as summer break and my imminent overseas vacation neared. Between last minute cramming and madly clicking through final exams, I somehow managed to pack an entire suitcase and make all the arrangements to have my car kept in a parking garage for the trip. After the last minute chore of unburying my passport from piles of storage crates, I left for the airport. Arrival took a solid hour of inching through traffic and departure took another hour of doing the same through lines.

Ireland from above was a giant emerald set in the Atlantic. Ireland from the airport on was just like any bustling urban paradise, and the tourism just as systematic. From the rather small hotel, everything was planned from the tour bus route to the sites. The first few days were spent prowling the city with all kinds of themed restarants and shops, the next were spent on nothing but rolling farmlands and barely distinguishable castle ruins. Near the end of the trip, I was more than happy to be roaming my last castle on the schedule before heading home.

“These ruins, according to local folklore, are alleged to be the castle where a Lord of the Good Folk, Midir the proud, stole the High King of Erin’s wife, Etain,” said the tour guide in her nasal, lilting tone as camera flashes bounced off the crumbling walls of the ruins. “According to myth, the two lovers flew off together in the form of two swans with a gold chain linking their necks before disappearing beneath the hills, never to be seen again.”

My arms wrapped tight around my body and they still shivered through the heavy sweatshirt jacket I wore. A thick layer of fog long since settled on the path, blocking out all traces of anyone’s feet and any hope of navigation without the tour guide. Dark clouds blotted out the sun and every tourist wore a winter jacket up to their neck, curling up in between snapping pictures. Occasionally I caught a glimpse of the tour guide rolling her eyes, the woman dressed in nothing but a sweater and jeans.

The tour guide droned on as the crowd shuffled forward and my eyes began to wander across the eerie landscape. The entire area, from the misty ground to the towering stone arches was some color of gray, as if all of us should have been in silent horror film. I quickly glanced around the nearest corner to see if Jack the Ripper waited to seek his vengeance.

To my disappointment, the area remained devoid of any serial killers. However, a few wreaths of delicate ivy leaves curled around a stone monument with rusty chains hanging over it set in the middle of what I imagined could’ve been a courtyard. My eye brows pinched together as I looked back to the guide and the party, all of whom stopped in front of another wall, snapping pictures. I wandered behind the corner, edging closer to the ivy-covered monument.

Within inches of my goal, I made out an engraving upon the front; most of it hidden by leaves and chains. I reached out; brushing away most of the vines, letting some chains clatter to the ground. I squinted down at the tiny letters, the etching clear enough, but the language being Russian for all I could make out.

I stood back, inspecting the monument more with my lips pursed. More chains than ivy vines hung over the monument and I bent over shoving them away, each clinking link echoing louder through the area as it dropped. Finally the monument stood there, simple and gray as everything else in the area. I felt a twinge of regret in my stomach as I saw the fallen ivy vines, thinking the ruin more charming with the tinge of colorful decoration.

Ah, that feels so much better.

I jumped and jerked my head back. Nothing but fog and stone lie behind me. I turned to the direction of the tour party, my eyes widening as I found the same stone and fog where they once stood. I moved to run blindly forward into the maze of ruins, only to have my legs turn to jelly with the first step and my body collapse to the ground. A sharp pain shot through my head as I crashed into the courtyard and everything went black.

“She’s suffering from a minor concussion,” a woman said in her lilting accent. “It shouldn’t be too serious, but we’d like to hold her overnight, just in case.”

“Or course,” came a milky male voice in a far thicker accent. “Thank you so much for your help with my sister. It wouldn’t be too much trouble if I stayed with her through the night, would it?”

“Not any trouble at all,” the woman replied, sounding more dazed than coherent.

Sister? What sister? I groaned as my head began pounding. Awareness of a needle sticking in my arm and a cold object circling my throat started to bring me to consciousness.

“I’ll leave you two alone. Hit the call button on the bed remote if you need anything,” the female voice said, followed by the clicking of heels on tile.

My eyes squinted open to the fluorescent lights of a tiny, white hospital room, monitors beeping and flashing overhead and a decorative plant sitting on the bedside table. I moved to sit up but the pounding in my head sent me sinking back into the bed. I craned my neck to glance around the room.

“It’s about time you woke up,” said the male voice. “You mortals are so lazy, sleeping the day away with a head bump.”

My attention shot to the source of the voice: a tall, slender man with ivy mingled among his long blonde hair, a green tunic and leggings covering his creamy pale skin, and a pair of ice-blue eyes set in his angular face. He sat demurely in a chair beside my hospital bed and as the shock finally began to set in, I noticed a gold collar and chain bound to his neck, the other end of which slinked over the bed and up my body. The beeping of the heart moniter overhead accelerated as my hand slowly trailed up the length of the chain, finally letting it stop at my neck to feel something cold and smooth locked all the way around.

“Before you go about making the entire hospital think you mad,” he said as my mouth gaped open, my throat dry. “Be aware that they will not hear you, I am more than I seem, and because of such I may make your life a living hell whenever I please. Now, if you will close your mouth and remain calm, we may be able to get along on civil terms.”

“What…What is this thing?” I asked, my hand still holding on to the chain.

“You humans, so dense,” the man said, rolling his eyes. “It acts as a leash of sorts, connecting you to me.”

“I…I don’t know what kind of crap you’re pulling,” I said, my hand edging for the bed remote on the adjacent table. “But you’ve got five seconds before I start screaming.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said, his eyes wandering to my hand.

I darted for the remote. In a flash my wrist shot back to my side, a thick stalk of the plant on the bedside table whipping out and pinning it to the bed. The beeps of the heart monitor grew more frantic as I looked from my wrist to the tall stranger. My body froze as I stared at him.

“You mortals have only grown more daft with the ages,” The stranger said as he shook his head and stood. “When someone says he can make your life a living hell, you think the listener would cooperate rather than make empty threats.”

“What the hell do you want?”

“From you, a little amusement,” he said, a smug grin spreading his lips. “In general, to be free of this dead weight that is your bulk. Really, I would hope to be saddled with a more attractive companion but it seems that in this day and age nothing can be found but a homely woman who dresses herself like a man.”

“I’m sitting right here,” I said as the heart monitor finally slowed a fraction.

“Unfortunately I’m very aware of this,” he said. “I suppose that thanks are in order. You did free me, after all.”

“I didn’t free nobody from nothing,” I said.

“I’d think my very presence and this chain between us would prove otherwise, Melissa Danforth,” he said, his grin stretching into a smirk.

“How’d you-“

“A purse is the best way to know a woman, I hear.”

“If you took anything-”

“As if anything so mundane would spark my interest,” he said. “You were only so lucky you held all your pertinent information in that overgrown pouch, else you would be waking in a very different setting. Which reminds me, when we leave in the morning to go find the Otherworld, the healers here are under the impression we are siblings. I advise you go along with it if you wish to be free of this place.”

“Oh no,” I said, “The only place I’m headed in the morning is on the first flight out of here. Then I can get the drugs to make you go away.”

“You continue to forget, wherever you go, I go,” he said, dangling the gold chain in front of my face. “If you refuse to come with me, you should get used to my presence. So long as I linger in this world, it will be by your side until your death.”

“If you’re real, you won’t make it past airport security.”

“I have my ways, mortal,” he said, the grin returning.

“I hit my head too hard, that’s it. All I got to do is sleep it off. When I wake up, you’re not going to be there anymore,” I said as I eased myself back into the pillow. “That chain isn’t going to be there, all this will be fixed.”

“More sleep? It’s no wonder you’re so heavy.”

“Real or not,” I muttered, “compared to you, Kiera Knightly looks like a blimp.”

“If she is a woman of this age and looks remotely anything like yourself, the next generation is doomed to a miserable fate.”

“He’ll be gone soon, he’ll be gone soon,” I chanted to my pillow and my eyes began to droop until the white room blurred into the darkness of sleep.

A/N: This is "Faerie Games", my newest attempt at a work. I've been having the idea for this story since my first job so I decided to run with it and here are the results. The first chapters have been revamped a bit because of some helpful advice and I like how they turned out. So I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it and reviews are always appreciated!