The Fairy Gift Read Free

trousers from where they lay crumpled on the floor. It didn't occur to me to hope that it had all been a dream—the events of the previous night were far too clear in my memory.
    I wrenched open the door to my wardrobe and stared at myself in the mirror, only to have my worst fears confirmed. My body was perfect—all lean, defined muscle and smooth tanned skin. I touched a hand to my chest and slid it down over my flat torso and firm, muscular abdomen. Then, with a dread almost too much to bear, I slid my hand down the front of my trousers and touched the tips of my fingers to myself. I was thicker and firmer than I remembered—and more sensitive.
    I gasped and pulled my hand away, grasping desperately for the first shirt within reach and violently pulling it over my head. After I had frantically buttoned my shirt to its highest point around my neck, I relaxed a bit. My overall shape hadn't changed very much, and I was sure no one would notice. But what about my face?
    I leaned forward to inspect myself and noted, with some relief, that there didn't seem to be any too obvious changes. If anything, my face merely seemed sharper, the features more defined. The nose was a bit straighter, the jaw a bit more elegant, and the mouth more sensual. I remembered the shivery pleasure I had felt when Draeden had traced his fingers over my lips and drew my own hand to them, aghast. Then I saw my eyes and realized that there was no way I would be able to keep my transformation from anyone for too long.
    They were the same eyes, of course, almond-shaped and a bright hazel, but there was something very different about them. The morning sunlight caught the irises brilliantly, and when I locked eyes with myself, my gaze was so bright and intense that I found myself almost unable to look away. I sensed a deep, resonant power behind those eyes, which frightened me and sent a foreign shiver down my spine. I knew, somehow, that anyone who was unfortunate enough to meet my gaze would be very much under my control until I deigned to set them free. Draeden had been right—this power was very useful. And I would have given anything not to have it.
    There was a loud knock at the door, and I started violently.
    "Um, one moment!" I shouted. Damn it, Draeden had even changed my voice!
     "Marcus?" came my father's voice through the heavy wooden door. "Are you decent? Let us in, please!"
     "A moment, please, Father!" I shouted, furiously combing my fingers through my hair and futilely attempting to dim the brilliant, frantic look in my eyes. However, I realized that there was nothing I could do, save attempt to avoid eye contact for as long as possible.
    What was I to tell them? The idea of informing them of the truth was laughable—what if they decided I had been visited by a demon instead? What if I had been visited by a demon?!
     "Marcus?" My mother was there, too. "Did the fairy come to you? What gift did he give you?"
    Through the door, I said, "Um, yes. I think so. Um, I don't know."
     "You don't know?!" shouted my father. "Whatever do you mean?"
     "He … he didn't say." I gasped in relief when the lie came to me.
     "Didn't say?! Marcus, let us in!"
     "No, Mother, I'm really not decent at the moment!" I was leaning up against the door, my head thrown back in despair. What was I going to do?! "I'll be down for breakfast in a moment!"
    There was a pause. Then my mother's voice:  "Well, alright, Marcus. We'll expect you right away."
     "Yes, Mother," I managed, and then slid to the floor while listening to the slow retreat of their footsteps.
     
    By the time I descended to the meal hall for breakfast, I felt slightly more resigned. I had reviewed all of my options (among them running away or staying in my bedroom for the rest of my life), but in the end, the only viable one seemed to be to go to breakfast and deal with the results as best as I could. I had made myself presentable, combing my hair back neatly and donning a large, brown