Tam Lin: Until the Fire

Before the tribute

Janet had one night to steal a man from the fairies. Tam Lin was waiting beside the well.

The seventh year

The Fairy Queen had taken him years ago. Every seventh year, her court surrendered one life. Tonight, Tam Lin feared it would be his.

The question that matters

Janet asked where the riders would pass. Tam Lin gripped her hand. He had no one else to ask.

The white horse

He told her to pull him from the white horse. Whatever shape the Queen gave him, Janet must hold on.

One exception

The shapes would not wound her, he promised. Iron meant hold on. Burning coal meant water. Then cover him with the green mantle.

Wait for white

At midnight, black horses passed. Brown horses followed. Janet waited beside the well until a white head shone between the trees.

Break the procession

She caught his bare left hand and dragged him from the saddle. The Queen turned. The riders stopped.

The first shape

A snake writhed against her wrists. Janet held tighter. The Queen could change his body. She could not change the promise.

Teeth at her cheek

The snake became a lion. Its breath struck her cheek. Janet shut her eyes and held on.

Not yet the end

The lion became red-hot iron. It glowed, but did not burn her. Her fingers shook. Iron was not the last shape.

The hardest release

The iron crumbled into burning coal. Everything in her begged her to hold tighter. Instead, she opened her hands above the water.

A human breath

The water hissed. Tam Lin surfaced. Janet wrapped him in the green mantle and helped him over the stones.

The Queen's regret

The Queen watched him breathe. If she had known, she said, she would have taken his eyes before they ever saw Janet.

His own choice

At dawn, Janet let go. Tam Lin reached for her hand himself. Together, they walked away.