by Luca Tarenzi
Below was the word Pixie.
A few lines of text explained that, in ancient times, people would sometimes get lost and be unable to find the road home, even in places they knew well, after having unwittingly kicked a "fairy clod" that was able to cloud their thoughts and confuse their memory.
Waspider read these few words over and over, zooming into the image as much as possible without making it too grainy, and studied every detail. Slowly, he realized that his heart, back down in his earthly body, was beating faster and faster.
He kept up there for as long as possible, but tiredness overwhelmed him and he allowed his mind to float back down to earth, where he relaxed his Glamour cloud and opened his eyes.
Vanadium was seated beside the turned-off mobile phone, gazing into the distance, his posture suggesting he was relaxed, but attentive - somebody on guard duty who was trying not to show it. Behind him, Cerberus had scuffled through the trash to find an old yogurt tub that he was now smelling lazily, aware that he mustn't move away from his burrow without his master's permission.
"It's a plant," whispered Waspider.
Vanadium turned to the king.
"It's from the vegetable world. That's why the poison has no effect. It doesn't feel pain. It has no nerves. Now, I understand.... Now, everything is clear." The king looked as his lieutenant. "They aren't like us. They aren't Moryans. They are original fairies." He stood up, his head spinning a touch, but he only staggered briefly before finding his feet again. "The inhabited caves I saw in his mind, all those other creatures like him...they're here, with us. Are you following? In the Landfill. I should say, under it." He realized his fingers were tingling with excitement. "They must have been here before us. Before everything." He stretched out his arms, indicating all that was around them. "What was here before all this? What was here before the Landfill?"
Vanadium furrowed his brow. He looked around, initially without much purpose, but then with more attention, eventually focusing on a green weed growing out of an aspirin box. He pointed to it.
Waspider smiled. "Precisely, my friend. A field." He pushed one hand into the other to keep them still. "Before all this garbage, there must have been a field."
Vanadium continued watching him carefully.
"Now I can do it," continued Waspider. "Now I know they are plants, I can figure out how their Glamour works. How we can defend ourselves against them, learn to resist them. How we can use them to...."
An explosion of high-pitched whistles made him jump.
Vanadium got swiftly to his feet while Cerberus looked up from the trash and down towards the encampment.
The alarm. An intrusion.
Vanadium looked at the king, who nodded. "Go. Quickly."
The Boggart started charging off, with his giant strides, but Waspider suddenly stopped him. "Wait."
He turned to the rat, which was now sitting up on its hind legs watching things through his pale eyes, seemingly awaiting orders.
"Take Cerberus." The king smiled slightly. "He also needs some exercise."
Albedo sat on the edge of his bed, looking at the entrance to his tent, but not really seeing anything.
He hadn't slept enough. The edges of his vision had a blackish haze and he couldn't think clearly.
This was the worst thing that could happen now.
He lay back down and closed his eyes, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep any more. All he could do that morning was wait for news. He had to wait for Livid. He had to wait for any news.
Powerless. This had always been the problem.
Today, he felt more powerless than ever before.
He was powerless in the face of impending war, despite every effort he'd made to avoid it. He was powerless in the face of the loss of valuable resources. Valuable people.
He was powerless to change Needleye and her decisions. He was unable to make her understand and powerless to stop her when he'd had the chance.
If only his Glamour had been stronger and able to control more than one person at a time, then things would've panned out differently the other night. Indeed, many times.
Memories, unwanted memories, flashed before his eyes.
The poisoned knife, covered in blood.
The hand clinging to the side of the bed.
Go Needleye! You mustn't be here. Don't look!
Albedo opened his eyes and jumped to his feet.
That had been the start of everything between them. He could try as he liked to push what he'd done into the corner of his mind and to remind himself a thousand times why he'd taken that path. He could ignore what he'd done until he forgot it, but even if Needleye kept silent, she never forgot it.
She had never let it go.
She had never forgiven him.
Albedo paced up and down in his tent.
He mustn't lose control now. He couldn't lose control now. It was not allowed.
His strength was the key to turning things around. He knew this well, often having debated the issue alone. Strength he didn't have. The strength to order dozens, hundreds, thousands of people and have them obey. To order anyone. Even the enemy.
However, his Glamour wasn't powerful enough for this. Even if he could extend the power of his voice to the masses, he would need far more energy than he alone could produce. He would need an enormous amount of Glamour.
This would come at a huge price.
Albedo sat down again and pressed his palms hard against his eyes.
It has to be done. You know it has to be done.
He went out of his tent and hailed the nearest guard.
"Call Two-horns."
14
Needleye plodded through the oily muck that covered the bottom of the valley. This putrid smelling mud had been formed by the recent rains running down the surrounding garbage mounds, but even this almost unbearable stench failed to cover fully the sickly-sweet odor of the Sluagh Glamour that stung her eyes.
Verdigris had given her and Thaw two teardrops each, allowing them to clearly make out the Boggart guards located slightly above the valley floor.
The Boggarts seemed too comfortable with the Gramarye that kept them hidden and had taken few other of the precautions that Moryans would normally take to keep themselves hidden. The two sets of two Boggarts with sooty faces and reflecting eyes were standing there, under the open sun looking lazily over the area they had to guard. The first set was in an old sneaker, turned pink by the elements. The other two were behind a broken dinner plate, about three feet beyond the first two. Verdigris had seen them from yards away.
Needleye stumbled andt fell, but managed not only to avoid missing the foetid mud, but also to make it look intentional. She got up and moved forward looking like someone who could barely stand. The closest guards would soon see her, although she was so muddy it was unlikely they'd realize who she was.
She glanced up and saw one of them was already charging down towards her, sword in hand. She looked back down, but not before she saw the other Boggart signaling the next set of guards.
Perfect. Yes, everyone look at me.
She took another two steps forward, then fell to the ground, rolled onto her back and hid her hand behind her thigh.
Each second seemed like an eternity. The black-faced Boggart appeared above her and pointed his sword at her chest.
Needleye thrust out her hidden hand, throwing the dagger straight into the unprotected neck of her enemy. The Boggart let out a half-cry and fell to his knees, grabbing his neck. This was the signal.
Thaw dashed out from his hidden position about a yard beyond the farthest guards, moving forward at a speed only he was capable of. Needleye turned over and propped herself up on her elbows just in time to see Thaw jump on the other guards who were watching her and their companion. They didn't even have time to turn around. The modified cogs flashed in his hands as black blood gushed from their two slashed throats, contrasting starkly against the white ceramic plate.
The Boggart near N
eedleye managed to get the dagger out of his throat and gasped for breath. Needleye knocked him to the ground with a kick to the face and grabbed his sword, plunging it so deep into his abdomen it reached into the trash below. She turned again, this time to look at the final guard, the one Verdigris had to take out.
She too had rushed at the Boggart bearing her spear, but instead of drawing his weapons, he pulled out a long whistle made from a rolled up piece of a can and put it to his lips.
Needleye's heart missed a beat. This wasn't the first time she'd seen such a device and knew the whole valley would hear the alarm.
Verdigris suddenly planted a knee on the ground and hurdled the spear.
Needleye closed her eyes for an instant. It was a throw of at least ten inches and her weapon was badly balanced. When she opened her eyes, the spear was just ending its flight, plunging into the Boggart's back, forcing him to fall forward.
Needleye let out a sigh of relief, grabbed her dagger and ran up to the sneaker. Verdigris was dragging the guard out by the arm.
"Great throw," said Needleye.
"He's still alive," replied Verdigris, grim-faced.
Needleye bared her teeth. "Good."
They dragged him together to their hideout - an oversized doll's head into which they'd cut an opening. The smell of stale plastic was powerful inside, but at least it was safe. Thaw came in a minute later, holding the swords from the guards he'd just killed.
Needleye turned the Boggart onto his back, causing him to groan. Without saying a word, Thaw moved behind his head.
"Where's the battery?" demanded Needleye. "Where do you keep it?"
The Boggart scrunched up his eyes and spat out bloody saliva, but didn't say a word.
Needleye drew her dagger and stabbed him in the groin.
The Boggart screamed in agony, but Thaw shoved an arm over his mouth to muffle the cry, rendering the sound almost inaudible.
"The battery," repeated Needleye.
Thaw removed his arm, but the Boggart just coughed. Needleye raised her knife again.
"The camp!" gasped the Boggart.
"That much we already know. Where exactly? How is it hidden?"
The Boggart took two gargled breaths and his cloud filled with a burning tremor of suffering.
"You are already dead. You realize that, don't you." Needleye filled her voice with every ounce of coldness she could find, coldness she didn't feel. "Your only choice is how long you are going to suffer."
The Boggart remained silent.
"As you wish."
She thrust the dagger towards him again.
"No!" screeched the Boggart.
Needleye stopped.
"In the camp...near the edge. The border....the eastern border....under some boxes..."
"What boxes?" The Boggart gurgled so Needleye grabbed his chin. "What boxes?"
"Ce...cereal! Yellow..."
"Guarded?"
"…Yes."
"How many guards?"
"I...I don't know..."
Needleye frowned. If the battery was hidden just outside the encampment, a mere two guards would suffice. All they would have to do would be to sound the alarm.
"Tell me about the war. Are you ready? How many soldiers have you got?"
The Boggart wheezed and coughed out blood. Thaw looked up and shook his head.
Needleye stood and gripped her dagger.
In cold blood...
"Stop," said Thaw. Before she could say a word, he picked up one of the swords and cut his throat in a single, swift strike.
The noise stopped.
Silently, without catching anyone's eye, Needleye bent down to pick up the other sword and pushed it into her belt. The one from the Boggart at her feet she gave to Verdigris, who was pale and also determinedly avoiding eye contact. Her Glamour gave off an acidic whiff of nausea.
It was necessary. Needleye pursed her lips tightly. There is no time...
She wasn't sure exactly who she was trying to convince.
She shook her head and went to peep through the opening in the plastic. The encampment was on the summit, on the other side from them. She couldn't see it from there, but she'd seen it when they'd come into the valley. The Boggarts had now made their camp on top of the mountain, right under the beaks of the seagulls. Waspider was clearly immensely confident in his cursed magic.
"They left it outside the camp." Thaw came closer to her and looked out as well. "It doesn't seem like the best of ideas."
"They probably want to avoid too much movement around the tents. The danger is huge, with all those Pale Deaths above them."
Thaw shrugged his shoulders. "It might be easier than we thought."
Needleye shook her head. "Making a hole in the battery, perhaps. Getting close enough is another matter entirely. The guards here are simply border guards. We place them around haphazardly, too. It is the ones up there that we have to worry about. They have perfect visibility. We'll never to be able to climb up the side of the mountain without being seen."
"So?"
Needleye breathed in deeply. "So we go to plan B."
Thaw smiled, his small sharp teeth gleaming.
From halfway up the other side of the valley, Livid watched them from the old tomato can he was sheltering in, seeing them leave the doll's head and move stealthily towards the other side of the mound. He'd been following them from a distance for the entire morning, looking for an opportunity to attack, but the three of them had kept low, near the ground. He was waiting for when they started to move up a slope.
He'd watched them attack the Boggart guards - in truth, he'd only been able to see them when the Goblins had attacked - and admired the methodical efficiency of the whole operation. The king's little sister had clearly grown up and improved as a commander. He'd have to be a little more careful.
He put his quiver back over his shoulder, slipped out of the can and followed them, keeping his distance. He'd nearly lost them among the trash a couple of times, but he didn't want to take the chance of getting too close. Plus, as Thaw's leg was no longer bleeding, there was no scent to follow. It was essential he didn't lose sight of them.
It was long and tedious to make his way around the mountain, but when the tops of the Boggart tents finally came into sight above him and the three started to climb the side of the mound, Livid felt a renewed sense of hope. He considered for a moment heading down the mound, crossing the muddy stream and climbing onto the same side as his adversaries, but he threw out the idea because his current position gave him much better protection and a superb view.
Still, he was well aware that firing from there, at nearly ten feet away, was right at the end of even his range. In balancing it, he thought this was the better risk to take.
He took his bow from his shoulder and began to ready it. He'd made it from a piece of sturdy, flexible plastic and a silk thread he'd taken from a power cable. The real touch of mastery had been the arrows. They were handmade, created one-by-one. The shafts were bone taken from the leg of a crow and the tips were shards of china. Stable, light and accurate, they could easily puncture armor and, once they'd pierced the skin, they often broke, leaving the tip in the wound.
He took one from his quiver, dipped it into a jar he was carrying and then placed it in the bow, the tip glittering in the sun with sticky poison. He'd also created the poison, a mix of his saliva and blood infused with Glamour and a combination of toxins he'd extracted from half-a-dozen different spiders. The tiny drop on the tip of the arrow would be plenty to paralyze even the biggest Moryan in the Landfill for hours.
Livid knelt and watched his prey moving on the other side, practically at the same height as him.
His plan was to hit the one at the back as he or she moved across a particularly uneven stretch. If his timing was just right, his victim would roll down into the valley, setting in motion a small avalanche, and a volley of arrows straight afterwards would force the other two to take shelter. If he was lucky, he'd hit on
e of the others, or even both. Whatever happened, there'd be time to get the first victim before the others realized what was happening.
The three were climbing between two bags of trash, with Verdigris at the back. Adversary number one.
Livid slowly steadied his bow and pulled the string, waiting for a clear line of sight. The bags seemed pretty full, making Livid think that with a couple of well-placed arrows he might be able to provoke the avalanche he needed to hide Verdigris' fall.
The group moved into the open and Livid raised his bow.
At the same time, the three of them raised their hands and froze.
Livid blinked.
A second later, five Boggarts came out of nowhere, only becoming visible when they touched the Goblins.
Livid scrunched up his eyes.
No. No. No. Not now.
Those three idiots had moved too openly. Had they not seen the waiting guards? Livid couldn't see them, but with Verdigris' Glamour, they must have been able to see them.
The Boggarts surrounded the Goblins, forced them to kneel and took their weapons, then made them stand and pushed them towards the top of the mountain, spears prodding into their backs.
Livid opened his eyes and raised his bow again. If the Boggarts took them away now, he'd never see them again.
Nobody took his prey from him.
Needleye moved forward with her head down and her hands clearly visible, never losing sight of the Boggart that had taken their weapons.
Next to her Thaw looked at her and she shook her head imperceptibly to everyone but him. The timing wasn't right.
That was the most dangerous part of a plan that was already a long shot.
It would be impossible to reach the edge of the encampment unseen, so there was little point in even trying. If captured, the guards would take them there. Then, it would merely be a case of getting free at the right moment, not too far and not too close to the battery.
A walk in the park.
Needleye raised her head and looked around. The Boggart tents were closer now and she could see the flaps of the tallest ones moving in the breeze. The occasional fragment of indiscernible conversation also reached her ears. Then she saw it, the mound of yellow boxes piled one on top of the other on the slope to the right of the camp. The battery wasn't visible, but that just meant it was well-camouflaged.
