Willow's
Way
by
Cheryl Headford
Genre:
YA Fantasy, LGBTQ
Cale
always told Tay that fairy tales were dark. But they always have
happy endings, right?
Taylor
Preston is a normal sixteen-year-old whose biggest worries are his
GCSE exams. He’s right in the middle of them, but he has a summer
of fun with his parents to look forward to after. Or not.
Despite
their promise to spend the summer focusing on their one and only son,
Tay’s parents, Local Authority specialist foster carers, take on
one more special case.
Willow’s
arrival throws more than Tay’s summer into chaos. Suddenly, his
best friend is possessed by a demon, his parents aren’t his parents
after all, and he’s literally living a nightmare in a fairy tale
world that as dark as anything Cale ever warned him about. All he has
is Willow and a burning desire to save his friend before he succumbs
to the demon and Willow kills him.
Excerpt 1
Life had never been what you might call ordinary for Taylor Preston. His parents were Local Authority foster carers, specialising in difficult children. For as long as he could remember, Taylor had shared his home with other children of varying ages for varying periods of time. He’d put up with tearaway teens and tantrums and with never knowing quite what he’d find when he came home from school every day.
It hadn’t always been easy. In fact, it had never been easy. There’d been tears and tantrums of his own when he’d had to share his parents with children who needed their attention far more than he did. And every time he got used to one of them, maybe even got to like them, they were whisked away, never to be seen again.
Today, he’d come in, thrown his coat and bag on the floor in the hall, as always, and was heading up the stairs when his mother called from the kitchen.
“Tay, is that you?”
“No. I’m the worst burglar in the history of the world. I’ll just pop upstairs and rifle your drawers. Then I’ll be down for the TV.”
“Leave my drawers alone and come in here. We’ve got a new placement coming tonight, and I want to talk to you about him.”
Taylor groaned and dragged his feet to the kitchen. “Mam, you promised,” he whined. “You said you wouldn’t take any new ones until after the holidays. You promised we’d spend some time together this summer.”
“I know, hun. And I’m sorry, but this is an emergency and it was either us or a children’s home.”
“Then why not let them go into a home. They’re not bad places these days, and you promised me some time and attention. Besides, I haven’t finished my exams yet. I can do without the distraction.”
“You’ve got two exams left…maths and art. You don’t need much revision for either, and you know full well you wouldn’t have done any. By the weekend, you’ll be free of compulsory schooling forever.”
Taylor rolled his eyes. “As if that makes a difference. It’ll be even worse next year. The sixth form is no picnic, you know.”
“Oh, right. I’m not that old I don’t remember. The work is harder, but you have more free lessons, a brand new lounge to spend them in, and you lord it over the school like you’re something special, with all the little’uns looking up to you.”
“I’ve had enough of that here. Can’t stand the responsibility. Besides, I already lord it over the school. You know I’m the most popular guy there.”
“Right. The most modest, too.” His mum, Lily, sighed. “I’m sorry, Tay, I know it’s a bad time, and I know we promised to focus on the family over the summer, but I just couldn’t say no.”
Taylor sat down at the kitchen table and pulled one of the scattered papers towards him. “Okay, so what’s the story?” He glanced quickly at the photo attached to the paper he was holding. “What makes her so special you can’t resist her?”
“Him,” his mother corrected and Taylor, shocked, examined the photo more closely.
His initial cursory glance had shown him a slender, pale creature with an oval face and hair that reached his waist, which was why he’d assumed it was a girl. On closer inspection, he could see quite clearly that it wasn’t.
Yes, he was slender and pale, with white hair that cascaded over his shoulders and fell to his waist, but there was a strength in the delicate features that was definitely masculine, as were the defined abs visible through the plain t-shirt that was a few sizes too small. Taylor found himself fascinated by the boy, who seemed to be around the same age as he was. Although his features were delicate, he wasn’t pretty. There was too much strength and—arrogance maybe—there for that. In fact, he wasn’t conventionally good looking at all, but he was definitely striking.
“He doesn’t look very friendly. What’s he done?”
“He hasn’t done anything. Haven’t you been listening to a word I’ve said?”
Taylor’s face flushed and he ducked his head as he always did when caught out doing something that he felt guilty about. “Sorry. I think I’m in shock.”
His mother smiled. “He is very…um…interesting, isn’t he?”
“Interesting? That’s an understatement. Is there something wrong with the photograph or is he really that colour?”
“What colour?” Lily plucked the paper out of his hand and re-examined the photograph.
“Well…no colour at all.”
“It mentions it in the notes. He is very pale, isn’t he?”
“Pale? That’s one way to put it. He’s white. Everything’s white. His hair, his skin. I’ve never seen anyone like that before.”
“Not everything’s white. His eyes are blue.”
“Did you hear that?” Tay asked.
“I did,” Cale said.
“I heard nothing,” Willow said.
“That must be what they did to us, blasted the ability to understand their language into our heads. Can you do it to Willow, too?” Tay asked the little fairy.
“He is not our Lord. He is not kind to us like you are.”
“Well, Cale isn’t your Lord either, and he’s not been particularly nice. Not that he’s been nasty either,” he added hastily at Cale’s indignant glare.
“He is Lord’s friend, and he is hurting bad. We want to help him, help Lord.”
“That makes sense, I guess, but Willow is my friend, too. He’s my protector.”
“Is he worthy? Does he have a gentle heart?”
“I don’t know that his heart is very gentle. He’s a deadly killer. Can killers have gentle hearts? But he is lonely. People are afraid of him, so he doesn’t have many friends. It would be nice for him to be friends with you.”
“Oh no. Spare me. Please.” Willow rolled his eyes, but a tiny smile tugged the corners of his mouth, and he stood still as the buzzers swarmed. They patted his face and pulled his hair and then, when he didn’t slap at them, they zapped him. Willow didn’t fall as Tay and Cale had, but he did reel against the parapet and shook his head to clear it, looking as dazed as they had been at first. The buzzers flew up in a cloud, giggling.
“He is sworn to protect you?”
“Until we return to…um…” Tay struggled to remember the name Willow had used, “the queen.”
“Heart’s Home,” Willow supplied.
“Yes, that’s it. He’ll protect us until we’re safely…um…home.” He had a lot of difficulty saying that word. As if anywhere he’d never even been could be home. Still, he’d probably better start getting used to it. It’s not as if he had much choice and it wasn’t going to do anyone any good if he pissed off his…the queen and princesses. He guessed they could make his life a misery.
“You are going on another journey. You seek help for your friend.”
“Yes. His name is Cale.”
“Are we permitted to use it?”
“Of course you are,” Cale said. “In fact, it will be a relief that someone does. Most people seem to want to call me demon kin, as if that’s all I am.”
“We don’t fear demons. They cannot hurt us.”
“That’s true,” Willow said, in a thoughtful voice. “I’ve never heard of a buzzer being possessed.”
“Do you know how to protect yourself from demon possession? Do you know how I can protect myself?”
“Yes, Lord.”
Waves of relief washed over Tay. At least that would be one huge thing to cross off his list of worries.
“Can you teach me?”
“No, Lord,” the buzzer said, looking sad.
“But you said…”
“We know how, but we cannot teach you how.”
“I don’t understand. Why can’t you teach me?”
“It is not something that can be taught. It is something that has to be found.”
“Okay, where do I find it then?”
“Inside you.”
Tay ground his teeth. He forced himself not to show his irritation. “How do I find it?”
“We cannot tell you. You must find it for yourself. You must find where your power is bound and release it.”
Tay deflated. “I can’t do that yet, can I?” he asked Willow who shook his head.
“Not until you’re eighteen.”
“You told me that already, didn’t you? That I’ll be immune from possession when I’m eighteen and can use my powers.”
“Yes.”
“Well, thank you anyway. Oh, I don’t know your name.”
“It is Aria. I am leader of the ethen of the forest.”
“Ethen? Is that what you call yourselves? Not buzzers?”
“No, Lord, not buzzers. We are ethen.”
Tay nodded his head. “I’ll remember, and I’ll try to have people call you that now, and not be so mean to you. Of course, it will help if you don’t tease people and fly in their faces.”
Aria put her hand in front of her mouth, and her shoulders shook. Her long-lashed eyes peeked up at him, and he had to laugh. “Just try to be a little more…um…well…less mischievous. People will take you more seriously if you aren’t constantly annoying them.”
“We will try,” Aria said, trying to control her giggles, “but we like to play.”
“Find other ways to play.”
“Will you teach us new games, Lord?”
“Huh? I…well, I…I suppose I could, although I don’t think I’ll have much time.”
“We will accompany you, Lord. You can teach us games, and we will protect you if the demons come. We are good at fighting demons.”
Excerpt 3
“Hello, sweet thing.” Tay jumped and turned toward the sound of the voice. A strange creature was peeping at them from the undergrowth of the forest that surrounded them. It was about three feet high and roughly human in appearance, other than that it was stick thin, knobbly and distinctly tree–like. It inched forward, a smile on its woody face. Behind it, Tay could just make out other shapes lurking in the shadows. Occasionally, sunlight glinted on an eye, making it seem to glow.
Tay was entirely spooked and crouched protectively over Cale, searching the forest floor for something he could use as a weapon. As he turned his head, movement caught his eye, and he glanced over his shoulder to see more of the stick creatures creeping toward them.
“Stay back,” he growled, trying to keep his voice steady. “Get away from us.”
“Don’t be afraid, pretty thing,” the creature said. Its voice was like the creak and whisper of a tree in the wind. “We won’t hurt you. We just want to look…to touch your softness.”
“Pretty things. Pretty things.” The whisper came from the other creatures that now surrounded them.
“Stay away,” Tay shouted.
By now, Cale had dragged himself to his knees, and they huddled together, trying to keep all the creatures in their sights.
Tay jumped when something touched his hair, and spun to find one of the creatures at his shoulder with its woody fingers combing through his hair. “Pretty,” it crooned. “Fire.”
“Fire,” the others echoed. “Touch the fire.” They all moved forward, emboldened that their fellow creature had not been consumed by the fire, presumably meaning Tay’s bright, fiery-red hair.
“Get off.” Tay lifted the stick man, tugging the fingers from his hair, and literally threw him away from them. The creature hissed, and the sound was repeated around the closing circle. To Tay’s horror, the expression on the woody faces turned from curiosity to animosity, and a dozen little mouths opened to show rows of razor-sharp fangs.
“Oh shit,” Cale said softly, then stood up, pulling Tay up with him. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, “I’ll protect you.” Tay almost laughed until Cale whirled, catching the nearest stick creature with his booted foot, sending it flying back to knock over three more. He then whirled again, sweeping two others off their feet. The creatures snarled and hissed, trying to bite his foot, but his boots were too thick for their teeth, as sharp as they were, to make any impression at all.
One enterprising imp leapt at Cale, whose sweeping arm caught it before he could reach the throat for which it aimed, and although it sank its teeth in, the thick layers of wool coat and jacket protected him. He was then able to use the swinging stick as a weapon against the others, which he did, protecting both himself and Tay until the creatures, including the one he’d been swinging in his hand, fell back licking their wounds.
“Nice work,” Tay said breathlessly.
“Hmm. I’m not going to be able to fight them all if they come at us together, though. There are more than there were when it started.”
As he spoke, Tay realised he was right. The number of stick-men had more than doubled, and there were more skulking out of the trees to join the little crowd, who whispered and rustled and watched Tay and Cale with glowing eyes and bared teeth. During the fight, the two friends had moved to the centre of the clearing and now stood back to back in the middle of a ring of stick-men. They weren’t moving forward, but they seemed to be waiting for something.
“Well, at least we’re together, mate. Last man standing, huh?”
Tay grinned at the reference to the games they used to play. Whether they were cowboys or ninjas, wizards or warriors, they were always the last men standing, facing the last battle with their guns, wands, or swords in their hands. In their games, they always triumphed. Today, it seemed they were about to fight their last battle.
“It was good knowing you.”
“Yeah. At least I’m not going to turn into a demon now.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Not saying it won’t make it go away.”
Tay gave an ironic huff. “No, but―” He broke off, his eyes flying wide. “Shit, now we know what they’re waiting for.”
Dozens of the little creatures had materialised out of the trees, surrounding Cale and Tay with a ring four deep. The ring now split to let something else into the circle. It was a creature similar to the stick-men, only three times as big and much bulkier. The teeth, though, were just the same, if bigger and probably sharper.
Why do I write fantasy? The truth is, that I don’t, well not generally. Historically, I have written almost exclusively contemporary and haven’t thought seriously about fantasy, other than a few stories here and there. It was a conscious effort to try to bring my love of reading fantasy forward into writing it. Even then, it starts in a contemporary setting and I build up to it. Once I get there, however, I throw myself into it one-hundred-percent.
Curious sticks, flying panthers, a city built on a dragon, a prince, a soldier and a world where gay is another word for joy. However, through the glitter, the talking trees and friendly fairies are threads of a far more serious nature. Fairy tales are not all mushroom rings and dancing fey. For every beam of light is a demon lurking in the shadows.
Tay is an ordinary boy who discovers he’s a fairy prince in the worst possible way. Unlike many in literature whose only problem has been adjusting to a world that works on different rules, Tay has deeper problems to wrestle with, starting with the shocking realization that the people he had always seen as his parents are not his family at all.
In the space of a day, he discovers that he’s adopted, his foster brother is a fairy, his best friend is possessed, he has a whole new family who is waiting for him in a place he didn’t know existed, and he has to leave the only life he has ever known, with no chance of going back, and walking blind into another one where people want to kill him and his only link to anything “normal” is a friend who is slowly turning evil. In book one, his sole focus is saving his friend. He has something to work toward, to make him strong. In future books he will first come to terms with his new family, and then with his role within the kingdom, all the while fighting assassins, falling in love with an air elemental, and learning how to fight the demons and save the world. Through it all, he remains a “normal” teen with all the tears and tantrums that go with it.
Take a boy from the valleys and put him in the middle of a field full of living sticks and a demonic best friend and see where it runs…which turns out to be into the mouth of a dragon via a grove of unicorns.
Cheryl
was born into a poor mining family in the South Wales Valleys. Until
she was 16, the toilet was at the bottom of the garden and the bath
hung on the wall. Her refrigerator was a stone slab in the pantry and
there was a black lead fireplace in the kitchen. They look lovely in
a museum but aren’t so much fun to clean.
Cheryl
has always been a storyteller. As a child, she’d make up stories
for her nieces, nephews and cousin and they’d explore the imaginary
worlds she created, in play.
Later
in life, Cheryl became the storyteller for a re enactment group who
travelled widely, giving a taste of life in the Iron Age. As well as
having an opportunity to run around hitting people with a sword, she
had an opportunity to tell stories of all kinds, sometimes of her own
making, to all kinds of people. The criticism was sometimes harsh,
especially from the children, but the reward enormous.
It
was here she began to appreciate the power of stories and the primal
need to hear them. In ancient times, the wandering bard was the only
source of news, and the storyteller the heart of the village, keeping
the lore and the magic alive. Although much of the magic has been
lost, the stories still provide a link to the part of us that still
wants to believe that it’s still there, somewhere.
In
present times, Cheryl lives in a terraced house in the valleys with
her son, dog, bearded dragon and three cats. Her daughter has
deserted her for the big city, but they’re still close. She’s
never been happier since she was made redundant and is able to devote
herself entirely to her twin loves of writing and art, with a healthy
smattering of magic and mayhem
$15
Amazon gift card,
Choice of book from author
– 1 winner each
Join us for the Release Tour with Guest Post & #Giveaway
#willowsway #ya #fantasy #lgbtq #cherylheadford
Comments
Post a Comment