“So, that be what got up the Blue Queen’s craw when she brought ye in! We dinna quite know wot she was talkin’ ‘bout before.” cried Lilbe. “Just think, ye could haf saved yerself but instead ye saved all those kids.”
“I didn’t really think about it.”
“Yer a hero, Jackbe!” gushed Dilbe.
“There’re two more rooms of kids I didn’t know about. I screwed up! And if I’d thought about it more, maybe I’d have used it to find Finn and Jenny. They might be in those other rooms!”
“Who’r they?” asked Lilbe.
“Jenny’s my little sister. She fell in one of the Queen’s traps a week ago. She might be in one of those other rooms. Or maybe red monsters didn’t catch her. I just don’t know. I’m not even sure how to find her. And, Finn’s my... my best friend. He was with me in the tunnels when I got caught. He could be in one of those other rooms too. I have to find out if they’re there. They all need to be rescued.”
“And the b’Trixers,” sighed Bilbe.
“Who’re they?” Jack asked.
“Did ya see the workers in the kitchen?”
“There was a chipmunk and a few others.”
“The Blue Queen uses ‘em as slaves in her kitchen, and the rodent said they’re now also carin’ fer those kids ‘cuz the beetle-folk are gone.”
“Who is this rodent?” asked Jack
“Ah, we met him when we was lookin’ fer you. He’s a b‘Trixer,” replied Bilbe. “He makes Doritte’s lunch e’ry day ‘for her noonie nap.”
“Who are these b’Trixers?” asked Jack.
“They been ‘migratin’ from some other ‘maginary place that was dyin’. Folk here don’t like ‘em much. But, we like ‘em fine,” said Bilbe.
“We got neighbors that’r b’Trixers. We play wi’ thar kids,” offered Lilbe.
“Our mum don’t like ‘em much,” added Dilbe.
“She ain’t used to ‘em. She’ll come ‘round,” grumbled Bilbe.
“She likes Tootles. The mouse family what watches the garden.” offered Lilbe.
“B’Trixers need ta get out o’ here too. The Blue Queen eats a couple of ‘em a day.” said Dilbe.
“What! She eats talking animals?” gasped Jack. “Animals that can think and... be like people?”
Lilbe was surprised. “But, Jack. All animals in Frey talk. Even plants oft’n talk. We be part plant ourselves!”
“So... ” Jack thought a moment. “Wait... then, what do you eat?”
“We be eatin’ mostly fruit, but meat-eaters usu’lly eat critters they dinna like.”
Jack looked at them with his mouth open.
“‘Ye wouldn’t want to eat someone ye liked, would ya?” observed Lilbe.
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t.” Jack was still not understanding this. “So, no one cares that the Queen eats her slaves?”
“Not much. They be ‘migrants. Furry-ners. ‘Trixers. They’re from someplace else.” reflected Lilbe.
Bilbe raised his hands. “But, we care. We need to rescue ‘em all ‘fore we go.”
Dilbe poked Jack in the shoulder. “She’s havin’ a feast tonight fer all her court’ers and guards and what-all. Doritte’s gonna start cookin’ a whole bunch up later today.”
“Why don’t they run away?” asked Jack.
“She has big horny-blit guards, and well, thar’s nowhere ta go. The townsfolk below the castle would jest turn ‘em in if they caught ‘em. Or maybe even eat ‘em. These are hard times fer most folk.”
“So, that’s what a horny-blit is...” mumbled Jack.
“The b’Trixers be kinda beaten down, an’ hopeless.” reflected Bilbe.
Jack thought a moment. “Does the Queen normally eat horny-blits?”
“Whatcha talkin’ ‘bout, Jack?” asked Lilbe.
“Last night, the Queen said she was in the mood for a baby horny-blit soufflé.”
“Don’t think the horny-blits would like that, the Blue Queen got thar families in the dungeon. She talks when she fiddles wi’ makeup. She keeps hold o’ the families o’ all her servants. Keeps ‘em in line –”
Jack felt hopeless. “So, we’ve got two rooms of kids – where Jenny and Finn might be, and a whole bunch of animals that need rescuing.”
“Yup!” the three kids chorused.
“What can we do?” murmured Jack.
“Ye could help ‘em wi’ yer magic!”
Jack squirmed. “What? I don’t think I have enough magic for something like that.”
Bilbe squinted into the water. “Yeah, it does look kinda small.”
“It’s bigger than yers!” noted Lilbe.
Jack’s face was back to a bright red.
“Hey- yer face be turnin’ color! Is it magic too?!”
“STOP!” yelled Jack, who immediately swam to the other side of the pool to get some space.
The three wet puffball kids sat on the other side of the pool and stared at Jack. He reflected. What choice was there? Could he do something about it? The idea of being cooked and eaten was awful. And he couldn’t leave without being sure about Finn and Jenny. And, of course all those kids...”
“We need a plan.” Jack said quietly. “A plan that doesn’t require magic.”
The three kids stared silently back at him with expectant smiles. He clearly wasn’t going to get a plan from them.
“Okay. We got two walls of human kids, and maybe Finn and Jenny hanging in the blood milking rooms. We’ve got your animal friends scattered throughout the castle if they are slaves – but, the ones getting cooked are probably in a holding pen near the kitchen? And hopefully still alive? We’ve also got that prisoner that was in the cell with me. I still can’t believe that the Queen chopped his finger off right in front of me!”
The three kids cringed.
“We need a plan.” Jack repeated.
The three kids nodded, waiting for his brilliant plan.
“I don’t know! I’m only FIFteen! I’m naked! I don’t understand any of this!” Jack pulled himself out of the hot water and sat red-skinned and cross-legged on the side, completely forgetting his nakedness.
“Sorry, Jackbe.” Lilbe murmured.
“Why do you call me Jackbe sometimes?” He looked up. “And sometimes you call each other Dil, Lil, and Bil, but at other times you–”
Lil’s voice responded simply, “We adds the be on the end ta be friendly.” Her siblings smiled at him.
Jack smiled back. “Oh, it’s a term of affection.”
“I think it’s supposed ta remind friends ta... be. In the moment like. E’en when it’s crazy.” reflected Dilbe.
The kids nodded quietly.
Minutes passed. The sound of the flowing river filled the cavern. The sound was peaceful. Jack noticed the Reishi mushrooms again. They made folks sleepy...
Jack looked over towards the bend in the river. “Where does that river go?”
Dilbe raised her hand and waved it urgently.
“Uh, yes, Dilbe?” Jack asked.
Dilbe stood up. “That goes outside to a waterfall. We be on a mountain – far ‘bove Nor’city. There be a path here that goes ‘longside the river ’til you get to the fall.”
“And then?” asked Jack. “Does the path go any further?”
“Yeah, but ah’m not sure where it be headin’. Once outside, the trail be goin’ back inta another cave.” explained Dilbe.
Jack thought another moment. “Can we get up to the kitchen from here? Do the Queen’s folk ever come down here?”
Bilbe proudly raised his hand.
“Yes, Bilbe?”
“Jackbe, the way down here be too small fer the Queen and her big folk. She might ha’ servants that can fit. Someone’s gotta work on the plumbin’.”
“Jack, they’re a g
oin’ ta get eat’n!” said Lilbe.
“I get it. Can you get a message and some mushrooms to the rodent? And another message to the guard about his kids? I think I have a plan.” Jack took a deep breath.
The three puffballs cheered.
“But, do you know where I can get some clothes?”
Chapter 40
Randy’s Dilemma
Fuzzy-wiggles have an old saying: Dark deeds come from dark tastes. He’d gotten himself into this! Randy curled up tightly in the shadowy folds of the Blue Queen’s pocket. His trim peachy figure was now bloated beyond recognition. He’d always been rather proud of his figure. It had somehow made up for his lack of fuzz. He might not have been fuzzy but he could wiggle with the best of them.
Now Randy wasn’t sure that he could even wiggle. He could jiggle. That wasn’t the same thing at all. Now, he was thoroughly different from the rest. Perhaps, he’d never really been one of them to begin with.
But, he didn’t have to prove anything to anyone! Especially them. They had never been nice to him.
The human girl – Jenny – she was the first being who’d ever been kind to him. She’d said he was beautiful. Weird no-hair Randy – beautiful. Of course that was when he was thin. She might not think he was beautiful now.
But, the Queen also said that he was beautiful. But the Queen just wanted his magic. She would eat him as soon as he transformed. He didn’t want to be part of a creature like her.
But Randy wouldn’t have a choice now! He’d tasted human blood! He’d always been curious. Blood was supposed to be addictive and delectable. The whole loss of free will thing was disturbing. And, wishing should involve teamwork. Not be a bossy-pants thing by the host. But, now that he’d drunk human blood, was he changed forever?
Most of the weight gain had come from eating all those dark wishes – they were delicious. But, that wasn’t the same thing as drinking human blood. At least, he didn’t think so and that’s what he’d overheard from his pocket. The bloody finger had been disgusting. He couldn’t imagine that ever being delectable.
There hadn’t been many humans in Frey or the surrounding countries. Randy’s knowledge of humans and their blood consisted of rumors and piddly-squat.
* * * *
The life cycle of fuzzy-wiggles, is a simple one, though not well understood by non-fuzzy-wiggles. Fuzzy-wiggles hatch from eggs. The eggs are typically found among phosphorescent fungi clusters – as these supply glowing nutrients for the baby worms. The fuzzy-wiggles grow over time and eventually burst into a wish. This is where it gets a little... fuzzy.
Some wishes are eaten by growing fuzzy-wiggles. This accelerates the consuming fuzzy-wiggle’s growth and results in that fuzzy-wiggle becoming a much larger wish than those raised purely on fungi. Often, wishes seek to be caught, perhaps in the same way that parasites seek to be consumed by a host. A wish desires connection with a wisher, much in the same way that a human desires physical connection. When connection is achieved and a wish is fulfilled there is a powerful and invisible blast of joy. The wisher fertilizes the wish with imagination and the resulting explosion of possibilities produces eggs for more wishes. The bigger the wish, the bigger the blast. These wish eggs appear near fungi where they start the cycle again.
Like dandelions, wishes work hard to make more wishes.
All fuzzy-wiggles dream of big blasts.
* * * *
Of course, dark wishes – exacting wishes that hurt others – create a different sort of egg. A different sort of creature that Randy didn’t like to think about. No one was sure where the dark eggs appeared.
He had to admit that getting bigger was a rush! He was longer than the queen’s hand at this point. He’d always prided himself on his trim no-nonsense figure, but maybe his extra girth was not bad – maybe it meant more possibilities. But, possibilities for what? He had no allegiance to those other fuzzy-wiggles who’d always teased him.
What did Randy want?
Randy wanted to be a big blast of a wish. Maybe the Blue Queen’s wish would be Randy’s way of making the biggest blast ever... Maybe the Queen’s wish wouldn’t be as dark as all that...
He could see through the sheer fabric of her pocket to some degree. On the way to the prison cells, the Queen had passed through two large chambers with children chained to walls. Afterwards, she passed through the kitchen and gave directions to the cook, Doritte.
Randy noticed a room with a large number of small weeping creatures. They were annoyingly loud. He couldn’t think very well with all that racket. Fortunately the Queen didn’t stay long there.
“Just cook all of them! But, is that all you have? They aren’t very big. I’m inviting everyone in the palace to the feast. I’ve a special announcement!”
Doritte bowed most humbly. “Ah’ll send out fer more. Ah kin promise yah a grand feast!”
Randy didn’t pay much attention to what the Queen said. It was much nicer when they finally left the dungeon. He couldn’t think with all that wailing.
After traversing many corridors and staircases filled with creatures who stopped to bow as the Queen passed, the Queen entered a private blue chamber.
She screamed.
“Damn that precious runt of a boy! He’s gone!” The Blue Queen snatched Randy out of her pocket. There was an empty cage hanging from the ceiling. “I was going to drain him for you my sweet, so you could get even bigger and fatter.” She sighed. “But, he won’t get far,” she stepped into the corridor. “Floogle!”
Randy could see the small furry fae quivering at attention below. “Yes, yer maj’sty?” The creature was shaking.
“There was a child in my room. He escaped. Have you seen him?”
“No, yer maj’sty. He’s not been in this corridor. I’d have seen ‘im.” Floogle expected to be turned into goo at any moment.
“I’m sure you would have.” She smiled sweetly. “Find him. He’ll be here somewhere.”
“Yes, yer maj’sty?” He ran off like his life depended on it.
She gazed after Floogle... musing. “He’s too frightened to have helped the boy, but maybe I’ll make an object lesson of him anyway for the other servants. Incompetence is never acceptable.”
Asphixia stepped back into her bedroom and held Randy up to her lips and kissed him. “Now, where were we?”
Randy was happy that the Blue Queen seemed to like him.
“Now what shall we do with you my little worm while we wait for you to transform. Maybe I should start draining all those children in the Blood Halls to give you another snack.”
Randy foggily reflected that he didn’t quite like the taste of blood. “I’m not all that hungry, yer Highness,” he slurred still feeling a bit woozy from his earlier banquet.
She raised a pointed eyebrow in displeasure as she looked down at him.
“Maybe later?” He mumbled.
The Queen stared at the engorged pink worm in her hand and smiled a disturbing smile. “Then, I’ll just have to think of what I’ll do with you in the meantime...”
Chapter 41
Changeling Minds
Over the summer, Millie and the real Finn had signed up for Saturday morning art classes in downtown Mount Vernon. This was in addition to their art electives at school. Not-Finn found this art filled schedule extremely intimidating. He didn’t know how to draw!
Not-Finn struggled with the whole concept of creativity. The real Finn was crazy talented and Not-Finn wasn’t remotely artistic. He feared that his lack of ability would out him as an impostor.
And he didn’t understand why Millie did not seem more upset about her missing friends, as she obviously cared about them.
Every night before bed, Not-Finn explored the Internet to better understand the nature of creativity. But the creative process completely baffled him. He had absolutely no opinion
as to whether something should be yellow or purple. And the idea of drawing something was pointless if you could just take a photo with your phone. Maybe he wasn’t wired to be creative? Not-Finn was good at logic. He was good at math and any subject where the answer was clear cut and obvious.
When they arrived at their first Saturday morning class, Millie forced Not-Finn to sit at a table up front.
The art class drew kids from local schools around Mount Vernon, as well as attracting home-school kids who’d signed up in hopes of meeting kids who didn’t go to church. (Not that they were looking to do anything wrong... they were just curious to meet a heathen – as everybody in their world was church-going.)
* * * *
Ruby was a painter and she ran the craft studio. She hosted the classes to supplement her living as an artist. It was challenging to sell enough paintings to afford rent, food, and new tattoos.
Today, Ruby stood in front of the class wearing a fitted red skirt, a tight black t-shirt, red framed, bottle-thick lensed, cat-eyed glasses (to match her red lipstick), and carefully coiffed crayon red hair. And very black eyebrows.
“Attention class! Attention! Today I want all of you to make believe that you’re homeless! Yes! Even you Cynthia!” She directed that comment to a pink haired home schooler who had taken a previous class. Cynthia had been giggling with her friends and looking at Not-Finn.
“What would your grocery cart look like? How would you decorate it? What would you put inside it? Sketches first, then next week I’ll have real carts that you can decorate! Bring what you think you will need to put it all together. We’ll show them off that Saturday evening at the Hopin’ With The Homeless gallery show to benefit the shelter down the street. Each of your carts will have your own box for visitors to put donations in. We’ll see whose box gets the most donations for the shelter!”
“My cart is going to have a stereo for sure!” shouted a boy at the back.
“Can I paint my cart pink? I love pink! I want to do mine all in pink!” implored Cynthia. She smirked her challenge at Millie from the other side of the room.
This was going to be a long morning. Ruby looked at Cynthia. “You can’t paint the carts. I have to return them to Piggleton’s Market, who is very kindly loaning them to us.” She considered Millie’s raised hand with a sense of dread. “Yes, Millie?”
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