Faerie Tale
The whole of bestselling author Raymond E. Feist backlist, master of magic and adventure, now available in ebookSuccessful screenwriter Phil Hastings decides to move his family from sunny California to a ramshackle farmhouse in New York State. The idea is to take some time out, relax and pick up the threads of his career as a novelist.Good plan, bad choice. The place they choose is surrounded by ancient woodland. The house they choose is the centrepoint of a centuries-old evil intent on making its presence felt to intruders.
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RAYMOND E. FEIST
Faerie Tale
One of life’s truly rarest treasures is friendship. I count myself exceedingly fortunate in this regard. My friends have given of themselves above and beyond the call, in far too many ways to recount, but, most important, in love, support, and acceptance. I shall never be their equal in generosity.
But as a humble token of appreciation, this book is dedicated to:
The Original Thursday Nighters:
Steve A., Jon, Anita, Alan, Tim, Rich, Ethan,
Jeff, Lorri, Steve B., and Bob (and April, for I can’t seem to remember a time when she wasn’t there)
back when April and Steve’s house was Steve and Jon’s apartment and we all sweated finals, experimental results, orals, dissertation defences, finding jobs, the triumphs and the failures, the pain, the love, and the growing … together.
Table of Contents
Barney Doyle sat at his cluttered workbench, attempting to fix Olaf Andersen’s ancient power mower for the fourth time in seven years. He had the cylinder head off and was judging the propriety of pronouncing last rites on the machine – he expected the good fathers over at St Catherine’s wouldn’t approve. The head was cracked – which was why Olaf couldn’t get it started – and the cylinder walls were almost paper-thin from wear and a previous rebore. The best thing Andersen could do would be to invest in one of those Toro grass cutters, with all the fancy bells and whistles, and put this old machine out to rust. Barney knew Olaf would raise Cain about having to buy a new one, but that was Olaf’s lookout. Barney also knew getting a dime out of Andersen for making such a judgement would be close to a miracle. It would be to the benefit of all parties concerned if Barney could coax one last summer’s labour from the nearly terminal machine. Barney absently took a sharpener to the blades while he pondered. He could take one more crack at it. An oversized cylinder ring might do the trick – and he could weld the small crack; he could get back most of the compression. But if he didn’t pull it off, he’d lose both the time and the money spent on parts. No, he decided at last, better tell Andersen to make plans for a funeral.
A hot, damp gust of wind rattled the half-open window. Barney absently pulled the sticky shirt away from his chest. Meggie McCorly, he thought suddenly, a smile coming to his lined face. She had been a vision of beauty in simple cotton, the taut fabric stretched across ripe, swaying hips and ample breasts as she walked home from school each day. For a moment he was struck by a rush of memories so vivid he felt an echo of lust rising in his old loins. Barney took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow. He savoured the spring scents, the hot muggy night smells, so much like those that blew through the orchards and across the fields of County Wexford. Barney thought of the night he and Meggie had fled from the dance, from the crowded, stuffy hall, slipping away unnoticed as the town celebrated Paddy O’Shea and Mary McMannah’s wedding. The sultry memories caused Barney to dab again at his forehead as a stirring visited his groin. Chuckling to himself, Barney thought there’s some life yet in this old boyo.
Barney stayed lost in memories of half-forgotten passions for long minutes, then discovered he was still running the sharpener over a blade on Andersen’s mower and had brought the edge to a silvery gleam. He set the sharpener down, wondering what had come over him. He hadn’t thought of Meggie McCorly since he’d immigrated to America, back in ’38. Last he’d heard, she’d married one of the Cammack lads over in Enniscorthy. He couldn’t remember which one, and that made him feel sad.
