AND VERY LITTLE STONE

by MARGARET FISHER SQUIRES

They built the palace to ether. They used dreams and lass and very little stone. She did not notice the lack, distracted as she was by the motes o lamour that sparked the air around her prince. Perhaps she is not to be blamed. Perhaps he is not to be blamed either. The Fair Folk cannot help what they are.

The El Lord quite enjoyed the play ul labor. The woman’s fli hts o ancy matched his own as ew other mortals’ had. Her dreams served or timberin and floors, fine- rained and richly hued like maho any or teak.

The pair were dazzled by their reflections in the ballroom’s mirrors.

“We’ll ive a ball!” he declared. She answered him, “Yes!” and he conjured ra ile chairs o ilded wood, rich brocade draperies, candles o ra rant beeswax.

The dainty cakes were real, with currants in them. He stole them by ma ic rom the bakery in the nearest town. It did not seem to matter that the palace had no kitchen.

Candle flames lit the ballroom and burned a ain in ilded mirrors, in uests’ jewels, and in his mortal lover’s eyes.

Dancin with her was a joy

The time came when her every kiss, her every hand-brush elt like the peck o a small, hun ry bird. Her eyes, bri ht with hope drained him.

Besides, the party seemed to last almost a whole ni ht or almost a whole year. (Despite lon interludes with mortals, he still tended to con use the two.)

He knew, or believed in his fine ivory bones, that i he stayed a whole ni ht or a whole year in one place, time would enspell him, stiffen his flesh until he was trapped in panicked immobility, an El Lord shaped entirely o somethin like maho any or teak.

Her chatter carved a numb hollow in his chest, He elt approachin dawn. He le t her while the dance swirled all around them, slippin away throu h one o the tall lass doors into the darkness. He le t her dancin with his reflection.

Outside, he paused, and lanced back throu h the lass at the bri ht-eyed comely woman circlin alone in her race ul dance.

He heard a distant fiddle swin in into melody over the hill. He elt the music fill his chest with fire.

His heels barely touched the earth as he crossed the hill but he remembered the woman or almost as many years or hours as it took or the palace’s timbers to collapse into dust.