by Jim Hines
He moaned and shook his head again, more violently this time.
“Mac wants to stay with Queen Tamora,” said Gulk.
This time, Mac nodded.
“You can’t stop what’s going to happen.” Ms. Anna looked directly at Tamora, as if the two of them were alone in the room. “No more than a pix could stop a speeding truck on the highway. You’ll be nothing but a smear on the windshield. You’ve done well to overpower me, but I’m one elf. Your friends are guarded by our warriors, under the eye of our queen. You’ll be slaughtered.”
“You know, even when you’re enchanted, you’re still a jerk,” said Tamora.
“The flute doesn’t change the nature of the one affected.”
“I dunno about that,” said Vernors. “I wager if we smack you about the head with it enough times, we could change your nature.”
Tamora shook her head. “No. Nothing that could damage the flute. And we still need her help.” To Ms. Anna, she said, “You must have a way of communicating with your queen.”
“Naturally.”
“I need you to summon her to the other side of the portal. With the humans.”
Ms. Anna laughed. “Summon the queen? Your overestimation of my influence is flattering, child.”
“Tell her the goblins and the pix are planning to launch an attack from this side of the portal,” pressed Tamora. “That they have human allies and human weapons.”
The laughter stopped. “That could work,” Ms. Anna admitted. “But what do you intend to do once they’ve gathered?”
Her stomach was knotted so tight she thought she might throw up, and her muscles were cramped with the effort to stop herself from shaking, but she did her best to match the elf’s breezy confidence. “I’ll fill you in once we’re done.”
Ms. Anna chuckled. “You don’t want to share your plans in front of the elf?”
“Nope.” She looked around. “I need two pix here to watch over my Dad, and two more inside to guard Karina. The rest of you, please follow me. Oh, someone needs to carry Ms. Anna.”
Mac got to his feet and joined Tamora, taking her hand in his. His palm was as sweaty as hers, but she didn’t care. The anxious twitches and jerks of his body traveled through his hand and up her arm.
The red willow was as they’d left it. A heavy comforter covered the two glass goblins at the base of the tree. Vernors and another pix dumped Ms. Anna in the dirt, hard enough to make Tamora wince.
“What do you need to send your message?” Tamora asked.
“Stab the knife into the tree, and let me grasp the handle.”
“Not bloody likely,” said Vernors.
“Either we trust Karina’s magic, or we don’t.” Tamora stepped onto roots as thick as her thighs and reached up to press the tip of the knife into a gouge in the bark. The willow’s branches rustled, though there was no wind. Not in this world, at least. She pushed harder. To the blue blade, the wood was soft as peanut butter. The cut breathed cool air over Tamora’s hand, sending goosebumps crawling along her skin as she sank the blade to the hilt. “Bring her.”
The pix carried Ms. Anna to the tree. Pukwuk used her knife to cut some of the duct tape. From the elf’s sudden cursing, she cut a little of Ms. Anna as well.
Bows and blades tracked Ms. Anna’s movements as she reached up to grasp the knife. She closed her eyes. Her lips moved softly, though her words were too quiet to hear. No more than a minute later, she turned away. “It’s done.”
“How long until they arrive?”
“My queen has remained close to the portal, ever since she realized her enemies were using it to escape. Half an hour, at most.”
“Are you ready for this, lass?” asked Vernors.
“Honestly? No.” She was about to walk into another world, to face people who would happily kill her. How could anyone be ready for that?
“Even if you save your friends, you’ll only make things worse,” said Ms. Anna. “The war will drag on. More will die on both sides.”
Tamora adjusted her helmet. Her roller derby gear felt laughably inadequate for what she was about to do. “What would it take to stop the war?”
“You can’t. My queen and her former consort will never stop.”
“She’s right, lass,” said Vernors. “Don’t let her mess with your head. You can’t win this war. The battle, maybe. You focus on saving your friends while you’re in our world, you hear?”
Another world… A world of goblins and pix and elves and dragons and magic and so much more. “What was it like?” she whispered. “The first time you left Bansa and entered our world.”
“Dark,” said Gulk.
Vernors snorted. “It changes you. Shows how much more there is, how small you truly are.”
“Pix all small,” Pukwuk pointed out.
Vernors closed her eyes. “Starflight, give me patience.”
“When do we go?” asked Mac.
Tamora looked at his iPad. Even if it worked in Bansa, there was a good chance the portal’s magic would have no effect on its software, meaning he wouldn’t be able to communicate with anyone else.
“No.” He jabbed his screen again, visibly struggling to write. “You’re not doing this alone.”
She swallowed hard. “All right.”
“I’m going too.” Karina Lord walked wearily through the trees, supported in part by a fluttering pix on her shoulder. “My brother’s on the other side of that portal.”
Tamora nodded, unable to speak. She wanted to tell them to stay here where it was safe, to insist she could do this alone, but they were right. She walked over and offered Karina her arm for support. Mac did the same on the other side.
“By all means,” said Ms. Anna. “Walk to your death, if that’s what you choose.”
“Me too!” Gulk swallowed and stepped close to Tamora. “Walk to death with Queen Tamora!”
“And Pukwuk!” Pukwuk cried.
“Daft as dirt,” muttered Vernors. “I’ll accompany you as well. A queen should have at least one escort smart enough not to spit into the wind.”
“You don’t have to,” said Tamora. “I’m not planning to fight.”
“Then you’re the only one,” said Vernors.
Tamora turned to the remaining pix and goblins. “If anyone but us comes back through the portal, close it and get away. Destroy the knife and the flute.”
“You heard her.” Vernors jabbed a finger at a fat pix in a Pepsi can. “You’re Second Bow now, so you’re in charge until I get back.”
Tamora stepped to the tree and grabbed the knife. Chips of bark fell away as she cut downward, but for the most part, the tree appeared unharmed. The knife wasn’t really cutting the wood so much as it was pushing it inward, drawing a groove down the center of the trunk. That groove continued to grow until, with a loud cracking sound, a portion of the tree split into a narrow passageway.
She brought the knife as low as she could. Roots twitched and dug into the earth like fingers, pulling the doorway wider. Light the color of campfires and sunsets spilled through from the other side.
“It’s ready,” said Ms. Anna.
“All right.” Tamora reached back to grab Karina’s hand, stepped carefully along the roots, and left her world behind.
Chapter 18: Honey Badger vs. Elves
For maybe five seconds, Tamora felt like she was falling in every direction, like an out-of-control carnival ride. She emerged from the willow tree, followed closely by Karina and Mac. Tamora took one step, and her foot slipped on a muddy root. She fell hard onto the dirt. As far as entrances went, this was about as humiliating and unimpressive as you could get.
That was when Gulk came through, tripped over Tamora, and tumbled to the ground beside her.
“Goblins,” muttered Vernors.
They were in a broad clearing beneath a deep red sky. The trees had leaves of orange and purple, save for a few squat-looking pine trees with silver needles. The air tasted cool and sweet. Only the willow tree w
as the same as in their own world. The land was flat, with no sign of any river.
“We’re really in another world,” she whispered. The sun was too large and too red, and the mud glittered like it had been mixed with glass dust, and the clouds twisted about in spirals, and it was all terrifying and amazing and disorienting. For a moment, the sheer wonder of it pushed all else aside. She grabbed her phone to snap a picture, then got up and leaned close to Mac and Karina. “Bansa selfie!”
Mac typed something on his iPad, but the words it spoke were gibberish. He grunted in frustration.
Karina put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?”
Mac nodded, keeping his eyes on his iPad. He turned his head a fraction of an inch to each side, taking in one sliver of their surroundings at a time.
Vernors flew up to perch in the willow branches. “We’ve got company.”
Before Tamora could answer, a slender spear slammed into the ground in front of her, thrown with such force it buried more than half its length in the dirt.
“Oh, dung!” Gulk tried to retreat through the willow tree, but Pukwuk caught him by the ear, making him squeal.
Tamora couldn’t see who’d thrown the spear, but Ms. Anna had said the elves would be guarding the tree. She raised her hands. “The Elf Queen is expecting us! She’s on her way here.”
“We were sent by Elannasithe,” added Karina.
Tamora glanced at her. “Elannasithe?”
“I…I think that’s Ms. Anna’s name. One of her names. I don’t know how I know. It just came to me.”
“We know why you’re here.” The speaker who emerged from the trees looked nothing like Ms. Anna. It was tall and slender, with rubbery yellow skin and huge eyes. It—he—pointed a large curved sword toward Tamora and her friends.
“Who put a bloody troll in charge?” muttered Vernors.
Other creatures joined him. Tamora spotted a group of goblins, along with a few pix moving through the branches. There were frog-like warriors with no visible weapons, who crouched with the attentiveness of predators about to pounce, and impossibly slender figures dressed in wisps of white clouds.
“We intercepted your message,” the troll said. “We know ya seek to form a secret alliance with the elves.”
“Those baggy-skinned beasts make goblins look clever,” said Vernors.
Gulk spun toward the pix. “That’s a lie!”
“The elves took my best friend,” Tamora said loudly, hoping to smother what promised to be a truly ridiculous argument. “They cursed my father.”
“They murdered Starflight,” added Vernors, eliciting moans from the pix in the trees.
“So you’re here to join the Dead King, then?” The troll grinned, baring pointed yellow teeth in dire need of braces. “Why didn’t ya say so?”
Mac straightened, deliberately looked the troll in the eye, and said, “We just want…to talk.”
“That’s right,” said Karina. “We’re here to talk. That’s all.”
“Is that so?” The silken words came from the other side of the small clearing.
A group of elves emerged, moving silently and in perfect formation. They were thin-limbed, with skin the color of ash. Most had darker hair, cut short on the men and women alike. Those in front carried short spears fitted to wooden spear-throwers. Behind them, the next line readied bows and arrows.
The troll raised his sword. The elves drew back their spears.
“Wait!” shouted Tamora.
To her shock, they did. Elves and monsters alike turned toward her. From the shadows behind the elf lines, that smooth, feminine voice said, “My delegate told me the humans presented a threat, one which required my personal attention. It seems she exaggerated.”
Tamora swallowed. “I’m—”
“No name,” Gulk whispered.
Right. Names were power. “I’m queen of the goblins of Earth, and friend to Andre Stewart. I mean, to King Nobody the 42nd.”
At some unspoken signal, the elves split into two groups, creating a path down the center. A stocky, muscular woman with a silver crown strode forward, followed by three familiar humans.
Karina gasped and started toward her brother. Weapons on both sides pointed toward her. Mac grabbed her arm, holding her back.
“Andre,” Tamora whispered. They were alive. She’d gotten here in time.
Andre wore armor made of golden scales, each one cut in the shape of a leaf. A dagger and slender sword hung from his thick leather belt. His face was thinner than she remembered, topped by a golden helmet. A pale scar cut from his right eyebrow to the bridge of his nose.
She wanted to laugh and cry and shout and run through the elves and hug him and then punch him for vanishing even though she knew it wasn’t his fault.
“Do you know this child?” asked the woman, the Elf Queen.
Andre tilted his head. “I…I’m not sure.”
It was like he’d thrust his sword through Tamora’s heart. The monsters shifted and muttered to one another, while the other elves stood like statues.
The Elf Queen pursed her lips. Unlike the others, she didn’t appear to be armed, save for a small wand of blue-tipped wood tucked through her belt. “Where is my delegate?”
“You mean Ms. Anna? She’s our prisoner, back on our world.”
“Taped by ducks!” Gulk shouted.
Tamora groaned.
The Elf Queen blinked in confusion. “I…I see. You and your forces have managed to capture one banished elf, and now you think yourselves mighty enough to come to my world and threaten my army? You have no power, no standing here.”
“The goblins of my world made me their queen,” Tamora said, wishing she sounded half as confident as the elf. “You made us a part of your war.”
“Poor, naïve child. You have no comprehension of our war.” She glanced at the troll and his soldiers. “I’ll allow you to decide your own fate, girl. A spear from my soldiers will bring a quick death. Or would you prefer I turn you over to these foul creatures who serve my opposite? For more than a year, they’ve yearned to tear a human limb from limb.”
Mac reached to squeeze Tamora’s hand. She squeezed back and said, “You don’t understand. We came so you could return the humans you kidnapped for your false prophecy.”
The skin around the Elf Queen’s eyes tightened, but before she could respond, another voice interrupted from the monsters’ ranks.
“False prophecy, is it?” The words were dry and hoarse, spoken with a wheeze that made Tamora think of a leaking bicycle tire. Four of the frog creatures carried a crude sedan chair to the front of the line. Within the chair sat what had to be the Dead King.
Like the other elves, he was tall and gray-skinned. Unlike them, he had a silver-handled dagger sprouting from the center of his chest. A shaggy mane of gray curls spilled from his head like a dirty waterfall. “Tell me more, human.”
The Elf Queen raised a hand. Her elves readied their bows.
“No,” said Tamora, praying the queen’s hand wouldn’t twitch, wouldn’t signal Tamora’s death. “Not like this. A private conference. As equals.”
“Equals?” The Dead King chuckled, which turned into a hacking cough. “You’re a human. A child, ruler of a motley band of cowards and refugees.”
“You’re one to talk,” shouted Karina.
Gulk whimpered. Several of the Dead King’s monsters snarled. The Elf Queen’s mouth twitched.
“Your delegate was right,” said Tamora. “Humans are a threat. We can either discuss that threat, or you can kill us and discover it for yourselves.”
King and Queen glanced at one another. The Elf Queen raised a hand in what Tamora assumed was a shrug. “It does no harm to hear them out and then kill them.”
“Agreed,” said the Dead King.
“Very well.” The Elf Queen waved her army back. The elves retreated out of earshot, fading to shadows among the distant trees. Only the three humans remained. The Dead King did the sa
me, sending all but his carriers back.
“Say what you’ve come to say,” wheezed the Dead King.
Tamora clasped her fingers together and squeezed, trying not to think about how easily either of these people could order her death. Hers and her friends’.
“You’ve got this,” whispered Karina.
Tamora stepped forward to stand between the two rulers. “We’ve come to offer you a chance to surrender.”
The Elf Queen burst into laughter, loud and sharp. Her humans reached for their weapons. “I’ve not laughed like that in many years. Thank you.”
The Dead King’s reaction was quieter, a smirk of disdain beneath his beard, and a narrowing of his gray eyes.
“The queen’s delegate told me of the numbers the elves face,” Tamora continued. “How big is your army, your majesty?”
“I have tens of thousands of goblins alone. In total, an army of a hundred thousand follows my commands.”
“A hundred thousand. All right.” She turned to the queen. “And your elves, your majesty?”
“More than enough to match his strength.”
“Cool.” Tamora nodded absently. “That’s what Ms. Anna said, too. Which made me start to think. Either your world is a lot smaller than ours, or else we’re not talking about your whole world. A goblin told me you both want to rule from one ocean to the other. That sounds more like a single continent.”
“My amusement grows thin,” the Dead King warned.
“Sorry.” Tamora gestured toward the red willow. “Your armies are impressive, I’m sure. But we have seven billion human beings in our world.”
The Dead King scoffed. “Your lies should be plausible if you expect them to be believed.”
“Ask them.” Tamora jerked her chin toward Andre and the others.
“They remember little of your world,” said the Elf Queen.
“Then ask these two goblins. Ask the pix. They’ve seen our world.” She turned. “Tell them what you’ve learned of Earth.”
Gulk stepped forward, visibly trembling. “Gulk found pup tarts!”
The Elf Queen stared at him like he was a worm she’d found in her breakfast. “I do not understand.”
