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In Sleep You Know

A Story of the Eleriannan

by Christiane Knight

In Sleep You Know - Christiane Knight - The Eleriannan
Part of the Stories of the Eleriannan series:
Editions:Paperback - Paperback: $ 13.99
ISBN: 978-1736850312
Size: 6.00 x 9.00 in
Pages: 276
Kindle - Kindle: $ 4.99
ePub - ePub: $ 4.99
ISBN: 9781736850305

Even the grittiest blue collar city has a spark of magic under the surface; but in Baltimore, graffiti holds secret messages and artists are the spellcasters. Abandoned buildings hide ancient beings, and at the local club, you might find yourself rubbing shoulders with menacing and otherworldly creatures.
If you know how to look, of course.

Merrick Moore is just a regular guy with dreams of making it big with his garage band, but not much else – until he crashes a party thrown by reclusive eccentrics. He gets more than he bargained for: new powers, a girlfriend who can visit him in his dreams, and a seven year bond with the local Fae court.

When the mortal enemies of his new friends show up to his band’s first gig, Merrick finds himself trying to prevent the start of a war that will have consequences for everyone, Fae and human alike.

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He saw Aisling first; he knew she’d planned it that way. Out of all of those in the room, she looked the most normal, for what that was worth. Her features were wilder and more fey, she had more curve
to her – a softer, pale voluptuousness that made her even more inviting looking – but overall, she looked as he had seen her all night.

She smiled at him and said, “I am myself. I think you saw me from the first with your heart, and so no glamour was ever evident. But what of the rest? What do you think?”


He looked past her to Cullen, who also looked much the same, except with much pointier ears and eyes that reminded Merrick of a fox. His canines were very pointy when he smiled, and he looked every bit the rascal.
Fallon, on the other hand, was dramatically different in appearance. She was older, but no less regal. She seemed to have gained a majesty that was only accented by the extreme slant of her eyes and fullness of her features. She brought to mind at first glance a woodcut he’d seen long ago, an image of the Lady of the Moon, only painted in golden and reddish tones. Her ears were pointed and curled up at the tips, and she seemed to have tiny horns that rose from her eyebrows and arched back into her hair. They looked like they belonged on her, somehow.

When she smiled at him, it was if the whole room lit up. She radiated power and benevolence to him, and deep in his heart he was glad she was in charge of these strange creatures.

He turned then to Sheridan and found him to be much wilder looking than he’d expected. He was ragged and wild-haired – even more so than he’d appeared before – and most notably, every inch that Merrick could see of him was covered with thin and spidery blue swirled tattoos. He had rings that went down the outside edges of both his ears, and he wore brown leather bracers on his forearms that had rings along the edges of those, as well. Merrick could well imagine him living at the base of a tree somewhere in a great forest.

Sheridan grinned widely and handed him a small circlet made of branches and ivy, about the size of a bracelet. “Put this on, friend. Oak and ivy will do you well.” Merrick slid it on his left arm, to the approving nod of his friend, and he gasped as it melted from the air and burned into his skin. It left behind a gorgeous tattoo, completely lifelike, of the leaves and branches entwined around his wrist. Merrick studied it incredulously. Fallon urged him then, “We await your decision, Merrick. Can you stay with us for the appointed time and be one with us?” He looked around the room, at all the different folk there: a small pixylike boy with feathers for hair. The green-and-black harpies that were The Ladies. A group of tall tree-people, who bent and swayed with grace. A round, spiky woman that was surely related to a hedgehog, he would wager. Their magic and their exotic looks were overwhelming, enticing – how could he say no?

“I will join, Lady. How could I walk away from all of you?”

Fallon nodded, as if she had expected him to acquiesce. “Cullen. Bring the vial.”

Aisling told him, “Lie back, love. You’ll want to be comfortable for this, trust me."

He gave her a funny look but did as he was told. At this juncture, and as muddled as he felt, it seemed prudent to follow her directions – especially as he’d more or less put himself into their hands.

Cullen had returned with a gleaming decanter that was finely made of hand-blown scarlet glass. It glittered in his elegant hands, and he seemed to treat it reverently. He took the small glass that served as a lid from the top and filled it with a sparkling, clear liquid, then handed it to Merrick carefully.

“Drink it quickly, like a shot of fine liquor. It will burn going down, and act quickly,” Cullen advised.

Merrick took a deep breath and said, “Cheers,” then downed the glass in one fell swoop.

Fire blossomed inside, and the world spun around him. He felt the glass taken from his hand, and someone’s cool hands – Aisling’s? – on his brow for a moment.

From very far away, through a burst of starlight and fog, he heard Fallon’s crystalline voice say, “It is done. Merrick, you are ours for one cycle, and we are yours. Ad vivum!”

There was a cheer, and he realized that they were all crowded above him, in a circle. Each one dropped something on him – a flower, a berry, a glass bead, a tiny key. He lost track. He noted in a tiny corner of his mind that Edana dropped a thorn, and gave him a maliciously, pointy-toothed smile. She looked as if she wanted to devour him.

After leaving their offerings, the folk filed out, leaving Fallon for last. She kneeled next to Merrick on the couch, and gently mopped his brow before speaking. “You are a brave little blackbird and your courage does you credit. Do not fear what happens now – we have given you gifts that will evidence themselves ‘ere long, and I think they will make your heart glad that you chose this path.” She laid a rainbow-sheened black feather upon Merrick’s chest, and told him, “When you are ready, you will fly.” She kissed him on the forehead and then left, with only a lingering scent of amber to note her passing.


About the Author

Christiane Knight is an artist, poet, writer, and author of the novel series Stories of the Eleriannan.
A former club and FM radio DJ, Christiane’s love of dark subculture and music infuses her stories and characters. Her novels are set in the Fae infused version of her already quirky hometown, Baltimore MD. She is a lifelong enthusiast of faerie, folktales, forests and fauna, especially combined in copious amounts with all-black clothing and some Joy Division or Bauhaus playing in the headphones.