“How picky are you?” the fish asked. “It’s not enough that I can talk?”

“Well, maybe I’ve seen talking fish before,” the fisherman said. “Can you dance?”

“No,” the fish said. “But I can sing. I sing the most beautiful songs, the songs of fish.”

“What do they sound like?”

“Have you ever heard whalesong?”

“No,” the fisherman said.

“Oh, well, the songs of fish are kind of like that, but better,” the fish said.

“Can you sing ‘Don’t Worry, Be Happy’?” the fisherman asked.

“What?”

“The Bobby McFerrin Song,” the fisherman said. “I have a largemouth bass at home that sings it. Can you do that?”

“Why do you need me to sing that if you’ve got a fish that sings it already?”

“Well, it’s kind of a robot and if you could do it for real… honestly, I’m not sure I even need one singing fish, let alone two,” the fisherman said. “It was a birthday present, because I like to fish and so my wife thought… well, who knows what she was thinking.”

“Listen, if you let me go then I’ll sing you a song that will stay with you until the end of your days,” the fish said.

“I don’t really like music,” the fisherman said.

“What do you like, then?”

“Fish, mostly,” the fisherman said. “That’s why I keep coming out here. For fish. I don’t know why you guys keep making this so complicated.”

“You’re the one who brought up wishes.”

After a night of fitful sleep, he set out, mounting his charger at dawn and riding down out of the hills at a good, solid clip. He reached the castle before noon. As he approached, he spotted a figure gowned in green, walking along the outer wall. Any last vestiges of a doubt he might have harbored in his heart fled when he heard the song, the beautiful clear voice wafting down from the ramparts.

He drew his horse to a halt a short distance from the base of the high wall. The singing, too, stopped.

“My lady!” he called. “Please, my lady… I beg a moment of your time!”

“Yes?” the same beautiful voice replied, a little uncertainly.

“My lady, my name is Sir Roderick of Dunhall,” the knight said. “For thrice three years, I have been haunted by a dream, a most singular dream about a most singular lady. For all that time, her face, her voice… her beauty… has danced in my sleep and afflicted my waking hours with what was at first a most pleasant distraction. As the years went on, though, I found myself increasingly preoccupied with thoughts of my dream-damsel. I sought out a soothsayer who told me that I would find her, living in a castle of white stone on the shore of a great sea. I set off at once, sharing my tale to any who would listen. I described the castle and the face of my inamorata to any who traveled far and wide, hoping that someone would know them… and at long last, after many wrong turns and false trails, I believe I have found her. If you will only show yourself to me, so that I can confirm that you are the lady of my dreams, then we can be wed this very day and I shall be the happiest man upon this earth.”

There was no reply at first. Sir Roderick held his breath. Then, he saw movement…a glimpse of golden curls as the lady peeked down at him from the high parapet. It was just a glimpse, but it left him dizzy. Her hair was the exact shade of his dream lady’s.

“My lady?” he said.

“I think you have the wrong castle,” she said.

“I am certain that I do not!” he said. “Please, lady, allow me to look on you, so that I may know that you are the one I am destined to wed.”

“I’d rather not,” she said.

“But… if you are the one who has come to me in my dreams…”

“I do not control my own dreams, Sir Roderick,” she said, “and I am certainly not responsible for any of yours.”

“My lady, I have come so far.”

“I didn’t make you do that,” the lady said.

“But I have ridden for…”

“Is your steed magic?” she asked. “Does the mere act of riding him often change people’s minds? Or shall I marry you as an act of sympathy for his saddle sores?”

“Please, if you’ll only just show me your face…”

“What will that accomplish?” she asked.

“It will prove that what I am saying is true,” he said.

“That you’ve been dreaming of me? I believe you,” she said.

“Then… will you accept my love?”

“Don’t be ridiculous… I do not know you, nor do I long to.”

“But I have dreamed of you… this is my destiny.”

“But what?” she asked. “Am I not allowed any say in this? Do your dreams and your destiny mean that I am not allowed to have my own dreams, my own destiny? If I did appear to you in your dreams, did you ever ask me what I felt? Or why I was there? Did you ask the soothsayer if I had my own beloved, or how I would feel about being asked to marry a man I’ve never met?”

“Do you have a beloved?” Sir Roderick asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I am not interested in you.”

“My lady, if you mean to test my devotion, know that I am prepared… though I have been sorely tested already.”

“Silly knight, your devotion doesn’t interest me,” she said. “How can I make that any plainer?”

“I’m ready to fight for your honor. I will duel any man, slay any dragon, bring you any tribute… only tell me what you wish for, and I shall make it so.”

“I wish to be left alone,” the lady said. “I wish to be free of men who regard me as a trophy to be won, who think that I should be overjoyed to be a mere figurant in their dreams. I wish to have my own wishes respected, when I make them clear and particularly when they touch most strongly on myself and my own disposition.”

“I see,” Sir Roderick said. “And, so… if I were respect your wishes for now, do you think that in time you may grow to return my love?”

“In what respect will you respect me, if you only do so in exchange for what you want?”

“My lady, I do not like to mention this because I do not like to brag, but I am the heir to the throne of High Dunhall,” Sir Roderick said. “I will one day be its king, and if you marry me, you will be my queen. Does that not make a difference to you?”

“Does anything I say make a difference to you?”

“My lady, I think that perhaps you are not thinking things through.”

“I am going to count to five and then I am going to call for archers,” the lady said. “One…”

“Indeed, my lady, that’s quite enough!” Sir Roderick said, wheeling his horse around. “You’ve made yourself clear! I shall away with me, and bother you no more. There is no need to lower yourself to such base threats.”

“Apparently there was,” she called. “You would not shift yourself for any words I could conjure alone.”

“Have you nothing else to say, knowing that I have dreamt of you every night for nigh unto a decade, knowing how far I have come and knowing that I am heir to a great kingdom?”

“Yes,” she said. “Two…”

“I’m going, I’m going!”

“I’m not that kind of magic fish,” the fish said, wriggling in the net. “But I can dance… I can dance right across the surface of the water. If you let me go, I’ll give you a performance that you’ll never see the like of again.”

“I’m not sure I believe you,” the man said.

“Why not?” the fish asked. “I’m talking, aren’t I? That’s pretty clearly magical.”

“I don’t see the connection between being a ‘magical talking animal’ and a ‘magical dancing’ one,” the man said. “Plus, if I dump you out of the net then you’re already free whether you dance or not. You know? I think I’ll take you home and let you show me what you can do there.”

“And then you’ll let me go?” the fish asked.

“No, I’m pretty sure I’ll still be hungry then,” the man said, and he dumped the net out into his bucket.

“Got you!” the boy cried, leaping from his hiding place in the bushes. The little man yelped and jumped, but the boy’s hands closed around him. “I caught you!”

“Alright, alright!” the little man cried. “You did. You got me.”

“Now you have to tell me where your gold is,” the boy said.

“Oh, no, that’s leprechauns,” the little man said. “I’m a gnome. I don’t have gold and I don’t grant wishes. But you can ask me one question and I have to answer it truthfully.”

“How can I get rich?” the boy asked.

“That’s not the question,” the gnome said.

“What?”

“I told you, you can ask one question and I have to answer it truthfully,” the gnome said. “That is not the one question you can ask.”

“Oh,” the boy said. “Um, what is the name of my one true love?”

“That’s not it, either.”

“How will I die?”

“Neither is that,” the gnome said.

“Meaning of life?”

“Nope.”

“Secret of life?”

“Sorry.”

“Grand unified field theory?”

“Never heard of it,” the gnome said.

“Well… what is the question, then?” the boy asked.

“That one,” the gnome said smugly, and vanished.

“Just like that?” I asked.

“I speak and it is so,” it said. “Just like that.”

“Oh,” I said, a little overwhelmed at the thought of it. “Wow.” The words both seemed so insufficient, but I didn’t know what words would be sufficient. This was actually happening. It was really true. I was really…

“But,” the genie said, “I must warn you… there is one condition I may have, ah, neglected to mention.”

It chuckled darkly. I felt a chill run down my spine. Of course it had been too good to be true. Of course there would be a condition.

“What?” I asked. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” the genie said. “I’m just fucking with you.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously,” it said. “Boom, wish granted. That’s all there is to it. No secret cost, no horrifying twist… well, that is, unless you count… no, maybe I should let you find that out on your own. Nobody ever believes the warnings, anyway. Not until it’s far too late.”

“What warnings?” I asked. What had I done? “Too late for what?”

The genie doubled over in laughter, flames licking around the edges of its mouth.

“Oh, man, you should see yourself,” he said. “I’m still just fucking with you. You got your wish. Go home and enjoy it.”

“Okay, seriously,” I said. “Is there some horrifying twist or not?”

“By Shaitan’s fiery beard, you spent like three hours drafting your wish to make sure there were no ‘loopholes’ or double meanings or anything like that,” the genie said. “The thing had a freaking preamble on it. I seriously thought you were going to call your lawyer or something. When you’re that obviously uptight about it, of course I’m going to fuck with you. But relax. You freed me from my imprisonment, I gave you what it’s within my power to give. That’s all there is to it. Don’t make this into more than it has to be.”

“Well, it doesn’t help me relax when you keep making ominous pronouncements or whatever,” I said.

“I’m sorry,” the genie said. “I’m done now. I’ve got it out of my system. Okay?”

“Okay,” I said. “Thanks.”

“No, thank you,” the genie said.

I smiled.

“I guess now I finally get what I’ve always wanted,” I said.

“Yeah,” the genie said. “Now… now you get to find out if you can live with that.”

“Christ, will you knock that off?”

There is a statue in the park of a woman… some people call her an angel, although the statue has no wings. Her hands are cupped in front of her in a gesture that’s vaguely prayer-like. She’s made of bronze, tarnished black.There is a plaque set in a concrete plinth in front of her with the sculpture’s original name, but the rusty plate is impossible to read.

People who know call her “Our Lady of Desire”.

Pilgrims go to the park to tell the Lady what they want. They whisper their desires in her ear. Some write them on a piece of paper and leave it in her hands, or under the slightly raised heel of her left foot. Some people leave gifts when they do this: bits of food, a libation poured on the ground, a personal momento.

A lock of hair.

A bit of blood.

They tell her their desires, and ask for her help.

Not everyone who speaks to the Lady receives an answer. She does not deal with simple wants or passing fancies, only all-consuming desires. Those who bear such an affliction and who approach her earnestly will always receive relief. In most cases, a desire that was previously unflagging will begin to wane, and even disappear.

Addicts have been cured by Our Lady of Desire. Hearts have been mended. Shattered lives reclaimed from the brink of despair.

In most cases, that’s what happens. But the Lady is capricious and fickle. In some cases, she is not so kind. In some cases, she does not look with mercy upon a supplicant. To these unfortunate few, the Lady does the worst thing she can think of: she gives them what they desire. Addictions are fed. Hearts are broken. Orderly lives disrupted beyond the point of repair.

Is there something that you want? Something that you need? Something that you can’t get but can’t live without?

Our Lady of Desire might help you… if you’re willing to risk the price.