by Lou Anders
“She did save me,” said Curious.
“More than once,” said Midnight.
“Oh,” said the fairy queen, giving Midnight a look. “Well, very well, I’ll take her home, then.”
“You will?” said Curious and Midnight together.
“Of course I will. Now off you go,” said the fairy queen.
“But…”
“Don’t you trust me to do what I say?” Titania frowned. “Away with you. I’ll see your shadowy little friend is taken care of.”
“If I could just come—” said Curious.
But then the rude swan head blew another raspberry and the middle swan head plucked him up in its beak and swung him over the side of the boat and deposited him somewhat-but-not-too-gently on the bank of the River Restless.
“Bye-bye,” said the fairy queen, waving down at Curious on the shore. “You’re a curious little unicorn. You must come visit me in my palace sometime.”
“Wait, wait!” called Curious, but the swan boat didn’t wait. In fact, it was busy swimming down the river. And Curious was soon alone.
“I guess that’s over with,” he said.
“Over with,” agreed Wartle.
But then Curious’s Scientific Mind noticed something.
The swan boat carrying the fairy queen, the court of not-children, and the night mare Midnight was going the wrong way. It wasn’t traveling toward the Whisperwood and the home of the Curse.
The swan boat was heading to the fairy queen’s castle!
Midnight was starting to get suspicious.
More than a little suspicious, if we’re being honest.
She could see that the swan boat was heading in the wrong direction. She knew it wasn’t heading toward her home.
Plus, she didn’t trust that little fairy queen further than she could kick her. When you came right down to it, Midnight didn’t trust any fairy. It didn’t matter if they were from the Court of Flowers or the Court of Thistles or the Court of Ice Cream Sundaes. She knew better than to trust fairies.
But fairies were very, very powerful. Fairy queens doubly so. And they could be quick to anger. Even the good ones. If there really are good ones. You might find yourself shrunken to the size of a mouse or turned into a bullfrog or magicked into a strawberry pie. Or maybe something really unpleasant might happen.
Midnight didn’t want to be any of those things. Not even the strawberry pie.
So while she was becoming more and more worried about where they were or weren’t going, she hadn’t spoken up. She was hoping the queen would tell her what was going on. But the queen had wandered off, leaving Midnight alone with the not-children. No one spoke to her. Not even the swans.
Midnight was feeling lonely now. She could hear faint music playing in the air, but she couldn’t tell where it was coming from. And if she tried listening to it, it faded away and only came back when she stopped paying attention. It was unsettling. It made her feel queasy and unwelcome.
She trotted hesitantly around the boat. She peered at the tables of sweets to see if there was something she could eat. But the food looked too rich, too sugary, and not suitable for horses.
The not-children tittered and giggled behind her back. She turned to confront them, but none of them would meet her eyes.
I wish Curious were still here, she thought. Then she realized how very wrong that thought was.
I wish I’d never met that stupid unicorn. Then I wouldn’t be in this mess.
That felt right.
But she was in the mess.
And, really, she did wish Curious were there.
She found the queen.
She was sitting on a giant marshmallow cushion conjuring butterflies out of thin air. The queen twirled her fingers and sent the butterflies fluttering frantically in a tiny storm. Midnight felt sorry for them.
When the queen didn’t look up, Midnight waited to see if Titania would notice her.
“Excuse me,” said Midnight. And then she said it again. “Excuse me.”
“Your Majesty,” replied the queen.
“ ‘Your Majesty’?” she repeated. “I’m not a queen.”
Now the fairy queen did look up.
“No, of course you’re not. You a queen? Don’t be ridiculous. I meant you’re supposed to say, ‘Excuse me, Your Majesty.’ Everything you say to me needs to have ‘Your Majesty’ at the end of it.”
Titania wrinkled her nose and narrowed her eyes as if noticing Midnight for the first time.
“You’re that ugly little pony that was with the curious unicorn, aren’t you?” she said. “What are you still doing on my swan boat?”
Midnight was taken aback.
“You were giving me a ride home,” she said.
“Your Majesty,” said the fairy queen.
“What?”
“You were giving me a ride home, Your Majesty. You’re supposed to end all your sentences with ‘Your Majesty.’ ”
When Midnight didn’t speak, the queen sighed.
“Was I really? A ride home?” she said. “I can’t imagine what you’d want to go there for. The Whisperwood is such a dreadful place, full of so many dark things even nastier than you are.”
It actually was. But Midnight was confused and offended by this. Of course she wanted to go home.
“But that’s where the Curse is,” she said.
“Well, I don’t see why they’d want to be there,” said the queen, as if the Curse had any choice. Then she swooshed her hand in the air, and all the butterflies were blown away.
“Anyway,” said the queen, rising from her marshmallow. “I have a better idea. Why don’t I show you my palace first?”
“Your palace?” said Midnight. She glanced around at the crystal rose petals rising around them. “I thought this was your palace.”
“Oh, this?” said the queen in a dismissive voice. “No, this is just the deck of my swan boat. The palace of the Court of Flowers is ever so much bigger and much more impressive. There’s nothing like it in the Whisperwood or anywhere. Not even the castle of the Court of Thistles. You really must see it.”
Midnight knew she was on dangerous ground. She remembered how reluctant Poor Mad Tom had been to return to the palace.
“Thank you,” she said. “But I really need to get home. My mother will be worried about me. And also…”
Her voice trailed off. She realized that she needed to find a way to fix the Silent Stones. Or else the Curse was going to have a very hard time sleeping through the night, what with all the Fairy Creatures trying to eat them.
“No, no, no,” said the queen, rising and striding toward the front of her swan boat. “I insist. You must come and be my guest at the palace. And you’ll be the first ugly little night mare ever invited, so that will make you special. Don’t you want to be special?”
“I’m sorry,” said Midnight. “But I have to say no.” She looked over the crystal railing of the deck, wondering if she could survive a jump to the water below. And if she could survive the water afterward. There were still kelpies in the River Restless. Kelpies who were very mad at Midnight.
“No?” said the fairy queen. “What a funny word that is when someone else says it. No, you will be my guest. For as long as I like. Which will be no sooner than until I hear your story and no later than forever.”
“I told you,” said Midnight. “There’s no story.”
“Oh, I think you are full of plenty of stories,” said the queen. “And full of something else too.”
The queen climbed the crystal deck railing so that she could look Midnight in the eye. Then her little hand darted into Midnight’s ear. Midnight jumped away, but the queen’s small fist now held an Absorbing Orb with a wispy wood wink glowing inside.
“Starting with the story of wh
ere you got this,” Titania said.
Midnight was amazed. She didn’t know when Wartle had put the Absorbing Orb back in her ear. But obviously he had.
She looked at the Absorbing Orb in the queen’s little hand.
“I don’t know what that is,” said Midnight.
“I don’t know what that is, Your Majesty,” replied the queen. “Everything needs to end with ‘Your Majesty.’ Even lies.”
“I have returned,” said Curious. He had found his herd in the Glen of the Golden Goose, just as Queen Titania had promised.
The glen was a big wide-open area deep in the Willowood where the Blessing of Unicorns mostly lived. It was called the Glen of the Golden Goose for a very good reason.
A big golden goose mostly lived there too.
The golden goose had hatched from a golden egg—what else would she hatch from? She was three times the size of a regular goose. She was very fond of ice cream. And she was made of solid gold.
Apart from that, however, she was just a goose like any other. She mostly spent her days walking around her glen honking until someone fed her a treat.
It was a little noisy, but she was shiny and pretty. And shiny and pretty went a long way with unicorns.
What didn’t go very far with unicorns was Curious. They were too busy frolicking to notice him.
“I’m back,” he said again.
“Oh,” said a unicorn named Harmonyhoof. “Were you gone?”
“Yes,” said Curious. “I’ve been gone all night.”
“That’s wonderful,” said a unicorn named Audacity. “There’s going to be a marshmallow-eating contest this afternoon. You’re just in time.”
“But…weren’t you worried about me?” asked Curious.
“Why would we worry?” asked Harmonyhoof.
“Because I was nearly drowned by kelpies, and then I was stranded on the other side of the River Restless.”
“You were on the other side?” said a unicorn named Dawnsparkle. “Was it terrible? Was it horrible?”
“Well, yes and no,” said Curious. “It was very exciting. But…didn’t Grace tell you about it?”
All the unicorns blinked at him. Blink, blink, blink.
Curious looked around for his friend Grace.
“She must have told you,” said Curious. “She ran off sometime after the kelpies attacked. I think after I swam to the other side. She went for help. At least, I thought she went for help.”
“Oh,” said Harmonyhoof. “Well, that explains it. Grace isn’t here.”
“Where is she?” asked Curious.
“Somewhere else,” she said.
“But where?” said Curious. “What if she’s in trouble?”
“Was she on the other side of the River Restless too?” asked Harmonyhoof.
“No,” said Curious.
“Then I don’t see how she could be in any trouble. All the trouble stays on that side. I really wouldn’t worry about her.”
“No,” said a newcomer. “Curious needn’t worry about Grace. He has enough to worry about for himself.”
It was Goldenmane, the head of the Blessing. The biggest, brightest, goldenest unicorn around. And while Goldenmane always looked very handsome, right then he didn’t look very happy.
“Did I hear correctly that you were on the other side of the River Restless?” asked Goldenmane.
“Well, yes…,” began Curious.
“The other side,” repeated Goldenmane. “Their side?”
“Yes,” said Curious. “You see, I was chasing a wispy wood wink, to learn about magic, and I fell in the river. But it’s okay, because Midnight saved me.”
“Midnight?”
“She’s a night mare.”
Around him, Harmonyhoof, Dawnsparkle, and Audacity all gasped. That was the proper reaction, so Goldenmane gave them an approving nod. Then he glared at Curious.
“A night mare?” said Goldenmane. “Saved you? Why would a night mare save you? That isn’t possible.”
“That’s what I thought too,” said Curious. “But guess what? It turns out that we’re wrong about them. At least about some of them.”
“Some of them? You’ve met more?”
“Well…all of them, I think,” said Curious. “The whole of the Curse.”
Gasp, went Harmonyhoof, Dawnsparkle, and Audacity.
“Curious,” said Goldenmane, “I think you had better tell me everything.”
So Curious did. All of it. He was very excited. After all, he had seen and learned a lot, and his Scientific Mind was eager to share.
Unfortunately, Goldenmane didn’t have a Scientific Mind. He didn’t view things the way Curious did. Not at all.
“Curious,” said Goldenmane. “You are lucky to be alive. I am just glad our wonderful fairy queen rescued you from the clutches of that Creature of Wickedness.”
“That’s not exactly how it happened,” said Curious. “And anyway, Midnight is not a ‘Creature of Wickedness.’ Not really.”
Curious felt bad. Because he realized a “Creature of Wickedness” is exactly what he’d called her. More than once.
“She is most certainly a Creature of Wickedness,” said Goldenmane. “Didn’t she lead you deeper into the Whisperwood when she told you she was leading you out? Didn’t she lead you into a trap at the Silent Stones? Weren’t you nearly killed time and again? No, it’s a miracle you survived. In fact, I think it’s only because so many different creatures were trying to kill you that none of them succeeded. Their efforts canceled each other out. Yes, that must be it.”
“But Midnight—”
“Is back where she belongs.”
“I’m not sure about that,” said Curious. “I think she might be in trouble.”
“In trouble?” said Goldenmane. “She is trouble. Night mares are evil, twisted creatures. Unicorns are good, pure creatures. That is the reason we live in the Willowood and they live in the Whisperwood. Their kind and our kind can never get along.”
“But we did get along. At least, we were starting to. I’m sure if we had more time—”
“Enough,” interrupted Goldenmane, stamping a hoof. “I am trying to be clear, but you are not getting it. Let me be as direct as possible. From now on, you are forbidden from ever crossing the River Restless again. You are forbidden from even going near the River Restless. And you are most certainly forbidden from ever, ever mentioning this ‘Midnight’ Creature of Wickedness again.”
And with that, Goldenmane trotted away.
Curious looked at Harmonyhoof, Dawnsparkle, and Audacity. But they wouldn’t meet his eye. Instead, they cantered off to different parts of the glen.
“Well, that didn’t go very well,” said Curious.
“You’re going to want to watch this,” said the fairy queen.
Midnight stood beside her at the bow of the boat. The swan began to turn toward the shore.
“Maybe I should get off?” asked Midnight. The queen didn’t answer.
The swan stretched out its two great wings to either side.
And with a flutter and a flap, it rose into the air.
“We’re flying!” cried the night mare.
“Obviously,” said the queen, but she was smiling quite broadly now.
“But,” said Midnight, “if you can fly, why did you need to sail in the river at all? Couldn’t you just fly over it?”
Queen Titania rolled her queenly eyes at this.
“What’s the point of a swan boat if it never goes in the water? It wouldn’t be much of a boat then, would it? A swan that wasn’t a boat would just be a swan, and what’s so special about that?”
Midnight was going to say something about the three heads, but she was captivated by the view. All the meadows and woods she’d never seen before. Because, o
f course, night mares weren’t normally allowed here. She was amazed. She was angry. Because everything was more beautiful even than she’d imagined. And then she saw Queen Titania’s palace.
What a palace!
I don’t know how many palaces you’ve ever seen but even if you’ve seen a dozen, still you’ve never seen a palace like this. Oh, no!
Maybe you’ve been to Uskiri and seen the Summer Court of Shambok the Spectacular, with its famous flowing fountains. Well, this was more impressive.
Maybe you’ve been to Araland, to the Emerald Fortress of Queen Ulla. Well, this was shinier and shimmerier.
I don’t care if you’ve been to the Pyramid Palace of the Phantasmagorical Pharaoh of Neteru. That doesn’t hold a candle to this. Oh, no.
The palace of Queen Titania looked like a castle made of frozen sunlight—all the towers and turrets and parapets and walkways and bulwarks and whatever else a castle has, each rendered in gleaming, translucent golden perfection.
Actually, when you think about it, it looked a lot like dried honey.
“What—what is it made of?” asked Midnight.
“It’s the Palace of Amber,” said the queen, looking very pleased. “So, um, naturally, it’s made of amber.”
As they approached the gleaming yellow-brown turrets and towers of the Palace of Amber, big yellow-brown doors midway up the walls suddenly opened.
The Swan Boat went into a dive. Then it tucked its wings in and, with a few awkward flops of its flippers, landed in a big interior space.
The crystal rose petals folded themselves into crystal steps. The fairy queen and the not-children all ran giggling and squealing into the palace, where tables piled with more sweets and treats awaited them.
The queen looked over her shoulder to spy Midnight still hesitating atop the steps. “Welcome to the Court of Flowers, I suppose,” she said.
Then the steps rippled and flowed under Midnight’s hooves. The night mare stumbled, but she couldn’t resist being swept right along, down the steps and onto the floor.
“Good luck, kid,” said a swan head. Then the whole bird turned around and took to the air. The great doors to the palace shut with a loud boom.
