Legend 4 - Free Falling Read Free Page A

and father was there a union (I am told) between a Daoine princess and a human.
    Zilch, nada, none. Apparently I am the only half-Daoine/half-human child. My mom thinks this is a major thing. Fae are having trouble procreating. The Wheel of Being has waned over the ages. However, that is another story for another time.
    As I have pointed out, there is a major difference between a Daoine Fae and a Tuatha Dé Fae. To keep it simple, I will explain that humans looked at the Tuatha Dé in ancient times and thought them gods. They were in fact, god-like in their form, their stance, and their immense abilities and magic.
    Well, even the members of the four Royal Houses of the Tuatha Dé look at the Daoine Fae and think them god-like. Subtle, but a major difference in the Fae Realm.
    The Daoine never mingle with Man. I mean it is almost a taboo. They are not interested in humans and find human habits deplorable. They consider themselves above the fray. They consider themselves the Keepers of Nature and are disgusted with what the human race has done to its planet. In addition to that, it is a rare thing for a female Fae, any Fae, let alone a Daoine Fae, to bear the child of a human. It is usually the other way around. Male Fae are very attracted to human women. They often seduce them with great relish. They find a female human’s passion bewitching. Now and then the human woman bears the child produced from that union.
    Male Fae may lose interest in their human consort, but never do they lose interest in their children. Immortality has inhibited and reduced the ability in Fae to reproduce amongst themselves to any extent …
    Given all this, my parents’ story is almost unimaginable, improbable, and one of those rare true-love stories.
    My mother is Princess Breith of the Daoine.
    She was young for a Fae, perhaps the equivalent of nineteen in human years. She was trooping with her friends, what they thought of as slumming , by taking a tour of the Highlands. (One of immortality’s ills is boredom.)
    It was May first, and my father, Nemid MacDaun, was conducting the Ritual of Beltaine, as was his promised duty to the Tuatha Dé Fae.
    My dad was not quite thirty at that time and had always been big and strong and quite a hotty, so the story goes (which my parents never tired of telling me). My mom was immediately struck by his presence and stopped to have a better look at him and the manner in which he conducted the ritual. She lingered and stepped out of her invisibility to speak with him. Long story short—that was it, done deal.
    They were married and stayed for a time at my dad’s ancestral home in the Highlands. My mom found it amusing living amongst humans. However, my dad discovered my mom had a talent that she not only enjoyed but also excelled at. She knew how to move a pen and make it work on paper. She knew how to bring a story to life. He was so proud of her work that he shipped off one of her manuscripts to New York.
    Bingo!
    We moved to Long Island, and pretty soon she was working for a famous TV network as one of their lead writers for a soap. You likely know the one. We moved to Cold Spring Harbor, where we had a great home, but we spent our summers in Scotland.
    Happy wasn’t enough of a word for what we were as a family. We laughed all the time. Love wasn’t a strong enough word for what my parents felt for each other. It was both inspirational and disgustingly romantic.
    I used to want a love like that. I don’t anymore.
    Now, you ask, what about my being a Daoine Fae?
    I thought it was cool, even if I couldn’t tell my friends about it, even though it was a major secret. I was (in my mind) hot stuff, you know. I never, ever used my Fae powers when I was with my friends. Not even my closest friends had any inkling I was anything more than what they were … a somewhat nutsy teen.
    Life was good. Summers were spent at our Highland castle in Scotland, and more often than not, many of my friends spent summer