Candela: can-dee-la. Plural is Candela.

Coblynau: cob-lee-now. Plural is Coblynau.

Cornish Pixie: Corn-ish pix-ee. Plural is Cornish Pixies.

Daoine Sidhe: doon-ya shee. Plural is Daoine Sidhe, diminutive is Daoine.

Djinn: jin. Plural is Djinn.

Ellyllon: el-lee-lawn. Plural is Ellyllons.

Gean-Cannah: gee-ann can-na. Plural is Gean-Cannah.

Glastig: glass-tig. Plural is Glastigs.

Gwragen: guh-war-a-gen. Plural is Gwragen.

Hippocampus: hip-po-cam-pus. Plural is Hippocampi.

Kelpie: kel-pee. Plural is Kelpies.

Kitsune: kit-soo-nay. Plural is Kitsune.

Lamia: lay-me-a. Plural is Lamia.

The Luidaeg: the lou-sha-k. No plural exists.

Manticore: man-tee-core. Plural is Manticores.

Nixie: nix-ee. Plural is Nixen.

Peri: pear-ee. Plural is Peri.

Piskie: piss-key. Plural is Piskies.

Pixie: pix-ee. Plural is Pixies.

Puca: puh-ca. Plural is Pucas.

Roane: ro-an. Plural is Roane.

Selkie: sell-key. Plural is Selkies.

Silene: sigh-lean. Plural is Silene.

Tuatha de Dannan: tootha day danan, Plural is Tuatha de Dannan, short form is Tuatha.

Tylwyth Teg: till-with teeg. Plural is Tylwyth Teg, short form is Tylwyth.

Undine: un-deen. Plural is Undine.

Will o’ Wisps: will-oh wisps. Plural is Will o’ Wisps.

ONE

June 13th, 2010

And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.

—William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

THE LAST TRAIN OUT of San Francisco leaves at midnight; miss it and you’re stuck until morning. That’s why I was herding Stacy and Kerry down Market Street at fifteen to the witching hour, trying unsuccessfully to avoid wobbling out of my kitten-heeled shoes. After the number of drinks I’d had, my footwear had become my new arch nemesis. None of us were in any condition to drive, and only Kerry was still walking straight. I blamed her stability on her fae heritage—pureblood Hob mother, Hob changeling father—giving her the alcohol tolerance of a man three times her size. No one keeps a house cleaner than a Hob, and there’s never any dust on the liquor cabinet.

Stacy stumbled against me. Being little more than a quarter-Barrow Wight, she didn’t have Kerry’s alcohol tolerance to help her cope with the number of drinks she’d had. I grinned down at her. “Did you tell Mitch you’d be coming home smashed?”

“He’ll have worked it out,” she said. “I told him we were going out for girl-time.” She burst out laughing, taking Kerry with her. Even I couldn’t help giggling, and I was trying to stay focused long enough to get them to the train.

The lights of the station entrance beckoned, promising freedom from my drunken charges. “Come on,” I urged, trying to nudge Stacy into taking longer steps. “We’re almost there.”

“Almost where?” asked Kerry, setting Stacy giggling again.

“The train.”

Stacy blinked. “Where are we going?”

“Home,” I said, as firmly as I could with my heel caught in yet another crack in the sidewalk. I would have taken them off, but my fingers didn’t seem to be working well enough to undo the straps. “Hurry, or you’ll miss the train.”