Magic Casements: Tales from Elsewhere

By Pamela Sherwood

In Faery Lands Forlorn

 

Two magical beings find themselves on the brink of an unlikely romance….

 

A mysterious knight challenges all comers in a tournament…

 

A fairy godmother and an imp clash over the fate of a certain cinder-maid…

 

A magic stove sees and hears more than most appliances….

 

A princess sets an unusual challenge for her many suitors…

 

Award-winning author Pamela Sherwood draws upon classic fairy tales, legends, and myths in this captivating new collection.

Sometimes haunting, sometimes humorous, Magic Casements opens twelve windows to the realms of fantasy and all the wonders they hold.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pamela Sherwood
• Release date: Feb 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215184455

Book preview

Magic Casements

Magic Casements

Tales from Elsewhere

Pamela Sherwood

Blue Castle Publishing

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

The Faun and the Fae copyright © 2022 by Pamela Sherwood and Isobel Clary; originally published in Every Goose A Swan.

After Ever After; The Midnight Hour; Confessions of a Magic Stove; Nine Lives; The Knight of the Gillyflower; Forsaken; Casefile 10: Binnorie; Fatal Flowers; Through A Glass, Darkly; Catspaw; Coda" copyright © 2023 by Pamela Sherwood, first publication

Excerpt from To Hear the Sea-Maid’s Music copyright © 2021 by Pamela Sherwood

Published by Blue Castle Publishing

Cover design by Melody Barber/Aurora Publicity

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

To Diana Wynne Jones, Tanith Lee, and Patricia A. McKillip,

who left too soon, but gave us so many worlds

Charm’d magic casements, opening on the foam

Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.

---

—JOHN KEATS, Ode to a Nightingale

Contents

Introduction

After Ever After

The Faun and the Fae

The Midnight Hour

Confessions of a Magic Stove

Forsaken

Casefile 10: Binnorie

The Knight of the Gillyflower

Fatal Flowers

Through A Glass, Darkly

Nine Lives

Catspaw

Coda

Thank You

To Hear the Sea-Maid’s Music: Excerpt

The Story Behind the Stories

Acknowledgments

Also by Pamela Sherwood

About the Author

Introduction

Magic Casements is, among other things, a loving tribute to the fantasy authors listed in the dedication: Diana Wynne Jones, Tanith Lee, and Patricia A. McKillip. I was introduced to the works of all three when I was a teen/young adult, and each in her way shaped my taste as a reader and my style as a writer when I tried my own hand at fantasy. Whether lyrical, humorous, or dramatic, this trio of authors always delivered in their novels and short stories.

Jones passed in 2011, Lee in 2016—news that filled me with great sadness when I heard. Around late 2017, I started planning another collection of fantasy stories. Dedicating that collection to Jones and Lee? I didn’t have to think twice!

I was finishing up one of the stories meant for the collection, when I learned of McKillip’s passing in May, 2022. In a way, this felt to me like the most personal of the three losses. With a heavy heart, I added her name to the dedication list and pushed on, determined to finish the whole project no later than early 2023.

Fortunately, I was able to meet that goal. Magic Casements is the result. The title comes from a line in Keats’s Ode to a Nightingale, which I first read in college and which has stayed with me ever since.

For what is fantasy but the opening of a window to another world, a world of magic and enchantment? And throughout their careers, Jones, Lee, and McKillip opened countless windows to countless magical worlds, in which readers have spent many enraptured hours, held fast by the storyteller’s art.

I hope that these tales—written over a period of years spanning from 1997 to 2023—evoke some of the same magic.

After Ever After

What happens after, once the tale's been told?

Long ago and far away, out of sight and mind?

In a barren house, two sisters halt and blind

Sweep out the ashes of a hearth grown cold.

A young queen rocks her child and ignores

The gaping dwarf-hole in the palace floor.

A pig stirs up a cauldron of wolf stew,

And musty courtiers talk as they once used to do

Of things long-dead, a century before.

Within their garden Beauty walks with Beast,

Now human, hardly beast-like in the least,

Save for a lingering wildness in his eyes.

The princess royal a canny soldier woos,

Eleven sisters breathe out wistful sighs

And finger furtively their dancing shoes,

The soles worn thin as paper, missing

Night life and endless gaiety, kissing

Their princes, lost beneath the ground.

But in the desert, what was lost is found:

A girl with hair of gold, a blinded prince

Embrace with healing tears,

Free at last from fears

That haunted them long since.

While far away, the thwarted witch,

Bereft of child but in malice rich,

Another crop of rampion sows--and waits

To trap another thief within her gates.

Within the palace, a queen with hair like night

Bans apples from her table--and her sight.

Three bears, perplexed and much distressed,

Clean up debris from an unwanted guest,

And mindful now, a young girl cloaked in red

Hurries home without delay or fail...

What happens, once The End is finally said?

Perhaps the start of still another tale.

The Faun and the Fae

The convocation at Evermore College was even larger than the name suggested, Lilac thought. She glanced around the courtyard, taking in the sight of all the various stalls and little food carts, ready to offer the midday meal. On this second day, the morning assembly had released everyone early, with the warning that the afternoon instruction would be more extensive.

Clearly, sustenance was needed. Lilac looked around for Celestina but then remembered: her fellow student had mentioned she had to catch up with some family members who were also attending.

So. On her own for the moment.

At least the weather had cooled; yesterday’s unseasonable heat had been quite uncomfortable for someone used to woodland climates. The heat, the unaccustomed crowd, and the sheer volume of the information presented on the first meeting day had quelled any adventurous appetite. But today, Lilac was in the mood to experiment, strolling by all the stands and considering their offerings:  roasted meats, freshly carved for the customer, spit-roasted fowl, pots of bubbling, savory stews, pastries and what looked like egg pies…

Lilac paused before an unfamiliar sight: a woman with a large mesh spoon was scooping light brown balls out of a pot of bubbling oil. They were not quite perfect spheres, nor were they flat enough to be called cakes, but their savory aroma caught her interest.

Ah, those will be good.

The voice over Lilac’s shoulder startled her; she stepped back in surprise, and collided with what turned out to be a Faun.

Oh!  She felt her face heat with embarrassment. I beg your pardon, I didn’t realize you were standing there.

No damage done.  He was taller and slimmer than other Fauns she had met and his horns seemed well-hidden beneath his thatch of curly brown hair. His cloven hooves made him unmistakable, however, despite his wearing what looked like human clothes: grey hose under a loosely-fitting white shirt. You looked rather absorbed. Ever had those before? He nodded towards the brown balls, now draining upon a clean cloth.

No—have you?

The Faun nodded. They sell them on the streets, in some of the places I’ve traveled. They’re made with seasoned ground-up beans that are fried or baked. No meat, but very sustaining.  He studied her thoughtfully and she saw gold and hazel flecks in his warm brown eyes. I know some Fae prefer not to eat flesh.

Lilac wasn’t sure if that was a question, but shook her head, surprised nonetheless by his awareness of such a concern. No, I… don’t have that kind of restriction. Do you?

He broke into a grin, which unaccountably made her want to smile back. Fauns are part-goat—we’re willing to eat anything. But I admit I’m partial to these. He gestured toward the food with surprising grace. Since you did look interested as well—may I invite you to join me?

Well—why not? Lilac found herself saying out loud, and was answered by another smile. She felt her face grow warm again, and looked away in some confusion while he gave their order.

She had met a few Fauns in passing, though most tended to be shy creatures, who preferred living quietly in the deep forest to consorting with Fae or mortals. This one, however, seemed more outgoing, even friendly—and to her own surprise, she found herself responding. What harm could it do to cultivate his acquaintance? Fauns and Fae might not mingle often, but they had never been enemies, as far as she knew.

The woman finished cooking their order and handed Lilac a plate with the little spheres in a nest of chopped greens, all atop a circle of warm flatbread. Two small wooden cups, one holding some creamy white sauce, the other a slightly thinner, light brown sauce flanked the bread. The Faun received the same.

There are places to sit in the garden, he said, sounding just a little… tentative, for the first time since they’d met. That is, if you enjoy grass under your feet. I must admit… I do.

So do I, Lilac replied, smiling to set him at ease.

Together they made for a low, comfortable bench set under a tree. Lilac watched as her new acquaintance drizzled a little of each sauce over the brown spheres.

The white one is mostly tart, the brown one more nutlike, with a little lemon mixed in, he explained, folding the flatbread into a pocket and lifting it to his mouth.

Lilac followed his example, then took a bite, concentrating on all the mingled flavors. The Faun’s raised eyebrows asked her opinion once she had swallowed, and she smiled.

He smiled again in return, then placed a hand over his chest in introduction. Silvanus Heartwood, Guardian, Itinerant class, here for the yearly Guild Gathering. And I have the pleasure of meeting—?

Lilac Greengrove, beginning my novitiate in the Fairy Godmothers League.

So this is your first Convocation?

She nodded. "Attendance is required of us for at least the first ten years. Is this also your first Gathering?"

No. But I do try to come nearly every year—or every other year—to keep up on information, he added. And my older brother came this year as well.

Intrigued by his self-description, she ventured, I’d never heard Guardians could be… itinerant? But I admit I haven’t had the chance to learn very much about your work.

Probably not, with so much you have to learn about your own, he replied easily.  Well, to begin with, of course, our work is much like yours: we seek out and help those in need, protect the defenseless, and support the deserving. Usually humans.

’Usually’? Lilac repeated curiously.

"In a forest? There may be other—beings in need of protection.  Especially the young.  Perhaps even protection from humans, in some circumstances."

Lilac frowned a little, thinking it over, then realized what he was referring to.  From hunters and poachers, you mean?

He nodded. Deer—particularly the rarest and most beautiful—are often hunted to excess. And smaller creatures… well, some traps can maim cruelly, rather than kill quickly and cleanly. We Guardians take exception to that.

 Are all Fauns, Dryads, Oreads, and… Lilac tried to recall other specific beings.

We sometimes say ‘nature spirits,’ he supplied helpfully.

Thank you, she acknowledged the clarification. "Are all nature spirit-folk Guardians, then?"

Many choose not to be, he admitted. They prefer to avoid involvement with humans and remain strictly within the calls of their element: trees or streams or mountains. But those of us who feel called to render aid come to the Guild.

And are all of you itinerant?`

Quite honestly, more than half of us are not. They prefer being Resident class: spirit of place. They claim a site:  a particular tree, a crossroads, a forest clearing, a natural fountain or spring, or even a well.  My brother chose a wild grove that was considered sacred, and the humans nearby come in search of him.  We Itinerants, meanwhile— he grinned at her again "—have it the other way round.  We come to them."

"You travel to them?"  That almost sounded like her lot, as a Fairy Godmother.

Depending on the assignment, yes.  We may be encountered by chance, to offer helpful advice in exchange for a kindness, or meet them as Companions on the Road, or Summoned at Need—some of those missions may be connected to a token. Or we may agree to take a longer assignment than Fairy Godmothers are able to.

Ah, Lilac mused. That sounds like something—it would be helpful to know about.

Well, yes. Don’t take it personally: the members of your League that I’ve seen always seem to be in a hurry. Wherever they are, they never stay very long. 

Taking another bite, Lilac considered this as she chewed. You may be in the right of it, she said, after swallowing. Perhaps the League will go into more detail on the subject this afternoon.

What was your first day like?

A bit dull, to be honest. Like a long review of the last few years of my education. But then, there may be Fae who didn’t have the same advantages as I did, Lilac added hastily, not wanting to sound arrogant or conceited. And it was true enough that her parents, Tansy and Campion, had made certain that their children received the most thorough schooling in all relevant subjects—at home as well as at the College.

Silvanus merely nodded. Your seniors in the League probably want all of you to have the same grounding—more or less—before they introduce new material. So everyone will have the same information at the same time.

That makes sense, Lilac admitted. "And today’s sessions have been a little more interesting than yesterday’s. But I must say, I’m looking forward to tomorrow’s, when we’ll be participating in more practical exercises. I don’t know how it is for others, but I always feel more confident once I know I can actually do what’s required."

What particular magic do Fairy Godmothers need to practice the most?

"Hmm. Basic spellwork, of course, along with warding, and a lot of transformational formulas, especially. What about you? Are there particular skills or practices that a Guardian must learn?"

"Of course, but those are generally determined by either the place we guard or the nature of the humans we encounter. In my case, every situation is a bit different."

"How do humans react to meeting you? It’s not every day they see a Faun."

Ah. Silvanus scratched his chin. "Well, as to that, I don’t always appear to them as a Faun."

Concealment spells? Lilac guessed, with a shrewd glance at his hooves.

Sometimes. Silvanus paused, brows drawing together slightly. It’s—easier for me than for my brother, he said at last. There’s a strong human strain in my branch of the family. My grandmother—on my father’s side—was a woodcutter’s daughter.

Lilac’s eyes widened. A Faun and a mortal woman? That’s… unusual.

My grandparents met in the woods when they were children and took a liking to each other then. She eloped with him to the forest rather than marry the fellow her parents chose for her. Not the most conventional of couplings, but they were quite happy together. But their children and grandchildren… well, let’s just say we’re something of a mixed lot. Some favor the Faun side, others the human, while a few of us are betwixt and between. My older brother takes after my father, he added, though both of them have shorter horns. And my younger brother resembles my mother, who’s a Dryad.

And then you—

"Put a hat and a pair of boots on me, and I might pass for human at first or even second glance. I didn’t inherit the horns or tail, and neither did my younger brother. We all got the hooves, though," he added, lifting one off the grass and regarding it ruefully.

Lilac, full Fae on both sides of her family, found herself oddly fascinated. Have you any sisters? I’ve never seen a female Faun.

Nor would you. The daughters of Fauns and Nymphs invariably favor their mothers. And no sisters, alas. It’s one of my mother’s chief regrets, though Kalliden is enough like her in looks and temperament to provide some consolation in that regard.

And this would be—your younger brother. Is he a Guardian as well?

Not at this point. Kall is still weighing his options. He’s happiest in the forest, among his trees, and has little interest in the dealings of humans. If he comes to Guardianship at all, I suspect it will be indirectly.

And your older brother, the resident Guardian—is he content in his position?

More or less. Osvaldus takes his responsibilities very seriously. Every living creature in his territory—from the smallest to the greatest—is well-protected, and he judges humans according to their respect for nature and the land. Silvanus’s smile was half-fond, half-exasperated. Not all of them can meet his high standards.

Lilac privately thought Osvaldus sounded rather intimidating, a quality she had not associated with a Faun before. And you—how do you get on with humans?

Quite well, actually. His smile turned mischievous. I enjoy human company—and I don’t even have to be drunk at the time!

Lilac could not help