The Watchtower

wondered if she would have enough time to finish her story.
    “The pain drove some of us further into our own world, which made our world deeper and began to separate the worlds. But others of us had become addicted to the sensations, the pain as well as the joy—I think maybe there were some who actually came to like the pain best of all because it made them feel most alive . Some say those were the ones who began taunting humans to hurt them, but others say it was the humans who, frightened by the strange shapes we took, tortured some of us. Whoever initiated the cycle of pain, once set in motion, no one could stop it. Our leaders believed it would be best for all—humans and fey—to dwell separately. The two streams of being were diverted, the worlds divided. Only some of us refused to go back to the Summer Country, especially the ones who had become addicted to pain, both the giving and receiving of it. They became what you would call demons and grew so awful that our leaders saw they could not leave the humans alone to deal with them. They set four guardians to watch over the human race and patrol the demons, one for each element. But the presence of the Watchtowers enraged the demons. There was a war and for the first time fey killed fey. One of the Watchtowers, the bravest warrior, my sister Maeve, was killed.”
    Oberon had told me that one of the Watchtowers had been killed in a war, but he hadn’t said which—and I hadn’t realized that Melusine was her sister.
    “Wait, does that mean you were a Watchtower?”
    “Yessss,” she moaned, her lisp back in force. “I loved mankind as your ancestor Marguerite loved it. But when our sister Maeve was killed, our fourth sister was so stricken she turned against mankind. She would have destroyed every last human, so Marguerite and I, aided by the leaders of the fey, trapped her in a lake that lay between the two worlds.”
    “That’s the creature in the lake?” I demanded. “She’s your sister? And Marguerite’s sister, too? Which makes her…”
    “Your great-aunt. Yessss.”
    “So if I went to her and asked as a special favor for her grandniece to give Will Hughes his mortality back…”
    A sudden chill fell over the grove. Melusine, her molecules now sharp as pinpoints, coiled in the air, her scales bristling. She lashed out so fast I thought she was going to strike me, but she stopped inches from my nose, her wings beating the air above our heads.
    “Do you think she’ll obey the call of kin when she cared nothing for me, her ssssissster? She has dwelt in the lake for millennia, her heart growing colder with each passing year. Her only joy is feeding off the hearts of those who come to ask her favors. They say she only grants a wish if she’s sure it will bring the supplicant grief. I told Marguerite that when she asked to be made mortal, and look what happened—as soon as she was mortal, her lover betrayed her and became a monster—”
    “And yet she didn’t stop loving him. Nor have her descendants. Oberon told me that Marguerites have fallen in love with Will life after life—that he’s spent an eternity trying to keep them apart.”
    “Exsssactly,” Melusine hissed, spraying water in my face. “What worse punishment than to know each descendant will be plagued by love for that … man . Even worse than what I have had to suffer. Loving a mortal man only ever leads to pain and heartache. You’d be best advised to leave Will Hughes to his own fate, which, if I know my sister, will be to be eaten alive.”
    I was going to tell her that not all men were worthless. I might not be able to make any definitive claims for Will Hughes, but I knew some really decent men—such as my father, my friend Jay, and Becky’s new boyfriend, Joe Kiernan—but before I could launch into a defense of the male gender, I saw another spiral of mist rising from the spring. Following my gaze, Melusine turned to watch just as the mist formed itself into a man in medieval armor.
    “I cannot blame you,” a voice rang out like a deeper bass bell to Melusine’s crystalline tinkles, “for so hating my sex after how I treated you, Wife. I have bided all these long years, among the vestiges of our home, for a chance to tell you I am sorry for ever doubting you.”
    Melusine quivered, each droplet swelling like dusky grapes. I could feel her hesitation, heavy as coming rain. All the centuries of wounded pride hung in the air between them. Would a simple