Excerpt from my short story, published March 2009 in The Black Garden from Corpulent Insanity Press.

A long time ago, this island was inhabited not only by the fae and the men, but also by every creature ever imagined. And you know, maybe there were some that most mortals didn’t imagine, too.

Not everyone could see those creatures, of course. The fae could see everything, and the half-fae could see most things. Only the very gifted of the men could see past their livestock. If they’d been able to see the wings on the cows and the horse-like tails on the chickens, how would they have reacted?

But … they could not see. That’s how we get to the story of The Legless Ones – three beings that once had legs. Before they raised the ire of the Good Father, that is. Their mother, D’ana, really should have kept a better rein on them. The Good Father kept her so busy, though, she had to leave the newborns in the care of their siblings.

The boys were born on a cold evening in the midst of the lambing season. A fog had rolled in from the hills, and the meadows were peaceful but for the occasional bleating livestock. D’ana and her consort, Allathair, had been busy visiting all the farms of men, blessing the ewes and lambs as they dropped. It was in the midst of this that D’ana felt a tug at her womb, and one, two, three, there they were. Allathair patted each on the head, told them to behave and, as all divine beings seem to do, moved on with his work. D’ana took the boys to the mounds under the mountains, where she and Allathair had made their home.

The other children glared at the newcomers. A sound like water rose in the room as the twin sisters, Boann and Sinann, cried out in protest. They were the oldest and would be stuck caring for the three ugly boys their mother had brought home. A brilliant light dazzled the eyes as Lugh and Luna added their complaints.

D’ana raised her hand and the room darkened as it fell quiet. She told the older children they must care for the new siblings, but that the three boys would have to go out and make their own way in the coming months, just as their older brother and sisters had done. She showed her children how the boys had grown, even in the few minutes since they’d entered the mound.

Grudgingly, the siblings agreed to watch over the triplets, even though they were rather ugly. Boann and Sinann secretly blamed the rolling fog for the triplets’ conception, claiming some man had cloaked himself in it and managed to bed their mother whilst Allathair slept. Lugh laughed, sending showers of golden light from his head as he did so. He pointed out that the boys had four legs and tails, though – that they couldn’t be of the men, who had only two legs and no tails.

Luna smiled at her new brothers, thinking to herself that they resembled the dragons who danced the fields in fall, after the harvests. Of course, the others would never have seen them. Sinann and Boann didn’t like walking the fields, and Lugh never went out at night. Still, she didn’t want to get stuck making sure the three stayed out of trouble. As her mother turned to leave the mound, she hid herself in the voluminous robes and made her escape.

She managed to get to the horizon before her mother noticed her and scolded her. Showing only half her face, Luna remained rebellious and rode the skies for the rest of the night.

Meanwhile, the three older siblings faced the three youngest on either side of the dinner table. When the triplets opened their mouths, a horrible screeching echoed through the mounds, rather than the language all deities are born knowing. Sinann recoiled when she saw their tongues were thin and forked. She rolled her eyes as she left, and Boann quickly followed; but not before silencing the triplets with a douse of icy water.

After the sisters had gone, the triplets started up with their cacophony once more. Lugh covered his ears, and yelled at them to shut their mouths. In the end, though, Lugh guessed it was only fair. His sisters had taken care of him when he first arrived, and now it was his turn. He didn’t have anything else to do anyway – at least for several hours. He watched as the three identical boys began eating items off the floor.

What could he do to keep them occupied while he slept?

An idea came to him then.

“You three, come here. Tell you what… you’re hungry and I’m no good at gathering food. There are farms around here with lots of interesting things to eat, so why don’t you go out and find those? Don’t forget how to get back here, and don’t come back until you’ve each eaten three chickens, three piglets, and three lambs.”

Lugh covered his ears again as the boys discussed their options. They really couldn’t eat Lugh (and were glad he couldn’t understand what they were saying, as he was still bigger than they were) and they were hungry.

Two turned to the door, while the third turned to Lugh, and nodded, then followed his brothers outside. Off they went, the sound of Lugh’s laughter following them.

The three roved the countryside, pillaging whenever they came across a yard with livestock. Not long before the dawn crept over the edges of the mountains, the triplets returned to the mound to find Lugh snoring.

Lugh awoke, startled not only by the noise of his brothers’ return, but also by their condition as they stood over him. Each one was covered in soupy animal blood, and one had the partially gnawed remains of a chicken stuck in his hair. Lugh’s eyes passed over the boys in turn, and he realized they were now just as tall and broad as he.

“Clean yourselves before Mother and Father see you,” he said, and left them to it. He had business of his own to attend.

In a flash, Lugh was gone, only to be replaced by his sister, Luna. Looking the boys over, she groaned, but helped them get cleaned up. Sinann and Boann entered the mound only moments before their parents, and none were the wiser – the triplets were as clean and strange looking as when they were born, only much bigger.

They were now full grown.

D’ana took them in her arms for a hug, and then settled them in for a nap before she took them out to meet their neighbors. These, of course, were the lesser gods; the boys would have to learn to accept their homage.

Thus passed the first day of their lives.

To read the rest of the story, why not pick up a copy of The Black Garden?