by Carrie Jones
They had packed up the car and were just waiting for Eva and Johann to finish up their third breakfast. A unicorn ambled over to them, and Annie petted her muzzle. Bloom’s hand went to the unicorn’s mane. The creature nuzzled him, getting drool mixed with grass all over his cheek. He laughed as Annie wiped it off with a napkin she’d stashed in her pocket in case her nose got runny again on the airplane.
“I’ve always known I am an elf,” he said, “but I guess I still felt like an imposter somehow. Like I was untested or maybe unworthy.”
“Why?”
“Because I survived when all the others were”—he broke off, dodging another unicorn kiss—“when I thought they were dead. I thought maybe I was such a bad elf that the Raiff didn’t want me, didn’t think of me as a threat, or … I told you it was silly.”
“It is silly,” Annie agreed. “But not because you felt it. Just because it’s so wrong. What happened last night proves it. You were so brave. The ghost elves guarding the Golden Arrow recognized you as one of their own. Your people would be proud of you. I know I am. You’re a great elf, Bloom.”
He blushed and couldn’t meet her eyes, focusing instead on the unicorn. “I hope to be.”
The rest of the day passed too quickly for Annie. She hugged her grandparents good-bye, and Johann drove them in the pig car all the way to the Dublin airport, through fields of grazing cows and sheep and horses that lifted their heads as the pig car passed.
“They are saluting us,” Eva claimed. “They know in their hearts that greatness is before them and that we go on a quest to save the elves.”
Annie wasn’t so sure this was true, but she was fine with the dwarf thinking it. Her own heart was so full of mixed emotions. She wanted to get on with it, to get to the Badlands, to try to save Miss Cornelia and the elves. But she also just wanted to hunker down and hide, to stay here with her grandparents, to be hugged every day, to not have to save anyone at all, to not be taunted by the Raiff and all his evil.
So quickly, they were saying good-bye to Johann and on the plane again, customs forms filled out, passports checked, seat belts buckled. And then hours later they were home in Maine, and ready to begin.
The taxi dropped them off outside the town line, the same place where they’d struck down the crow monster. Annie paused, inhaling deeply. Aurora lay just ahead, around the bend of a snow-covered road.
“We can do this, Annie. We will do it together.” Jamie gestured toward Bloom, who pulled out the Golden Bow and Arrow from his luggage.
“It’s still there.” He stashed it away again. “We’re good.”
They started walking down the road, and Annie said, “Once we get to the Badlands and the elves and Miss Cornelia, and if we actually can rescue them—”
“No freaking ‘actuallys’ about it. We will rescue them. Dwarfs do not fail,” Eva interrupted.
“Okay,” Annie began again, stepping on the snow, watching it engulf her boot, “when we rescue them and I make the portal to get back here, how do we close it up again?”
There was an awkward silence, which SalGoud broke. “You won’t be able to. The Raiff will come through. He will bring his army.”
“But she has to make a portal to bring us back,” Jamie said.
“And the elves,” Bloom added.
Annie swallowed hard and they got their first glance at Aurora, nestled between the ocean cliffs and the blueberry barrens, the mountains of Acadia, and the sea. “So our town …”
Jamie took her hand, dread filling his heart, and finished her sentence for her, “Will have to prepare for war.”
They didn’t talk about Jamie’s declaration of war as they hiked into town, but the possibility resonated in their heads, dampening their spirits. As they entered town proper, Eva paused.
“We’re going to Megan’s. We’re going to talk to Lichen and then we’re going to get moving. Action!” Eva held her arm up like she was holding a sword in the air while sitting astride a horse in front of millions of heavily armored troops.
SalGoud startled and dropped his suitcases and Jamie checked behind him to make sure there were no actual troops there. There weren’t.
“Um … have you talked to Annie or Bloom about this?” Jamie asked. The others were all trying to help SalGoud load the suitcases he had dropped back into his arms.
“Why would I talk to them?” Eva roared.
Some mice that had been listening nearby skittered into a mouse hole in the trunk of an old oak tree. Jamie could see why. Eva could be—well, she could be loud.
And grumpy.
And loud.
And bossy.
But she was good inside.
“It’s just that … Well, Annie and Bloom seem to be …” He didn’t want to finish his sentence. Eva was pretty competitive with Bloom.
She stomped up to him. “Seem to be what?”
Jamie shrugged and wouldn’t meet her gaze.
“Leaders? Are you trying to say they seem to be leaders?” Eva demanded. “I’ll have you know that no dwarf has ever been led by an elf. Not in the history of ever. A Time Stopper—well, maybe. But an elf? Never! You take that back.”
She lifted her nose to Jamie’s chest. Her breath smelled of the cheese they’d had in the airplane.
“I didn’t say it, Eva. You did.” Jamie stepped backward.
Eva crossed her arms over her chest and harrumphed. “Where’s the arrow?”
“Bloom has it.”
“Bloom has it? All by himself? Like one puny elf can protect the important tool that we need to save an entire species! What is wrong with us? We shouldn’t even be walking except in a protective diamond formation. We have important assets to protect!” She rolled her eyes. “We went all the way to Ireland to get that thing! We fought creatures. Someday the magical beings of this world will sing our glory because of our exploits, and the only one protecting the arrow is Bloom?” She flopped on the ground, obviously too distraught to stand.
“You trust Annie more than Bloom?”
“It’s not about trust! It’s about protection! Annie is wimpy and weak, but she’s getting tougher and she is an actual Time Stopper. Protection is in their bones, in their DNA, or whatever that science word is. It’s what they do. Now the elves … They are hardly better than fairies.”
“Eva. You are far too mean to the fairies.” Bloom stood there with a backpack slugged over his shoulders and his hands on his hips.
Eva hopped back into standing position, landing solidly on her two feet. “Oh, please … Fairies aren’t good for anything except flitting around and taking care of flowers.”
“Flowers are important,” Bloom said, almost smiling.
Jamie couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not.
“Harrumph.” Eva stomped over to Bloom and poked him in the stomach with her finger. “Where’s the arrow?”
“In my quiver. Stop asking!” Bloom tapped the portable container that held all his arrows. Cylindrical, it was suspended from his back with straps. The nocked ends peeked out above his left shoulder. He then tapped a cloth bag attached to his belt. “I have others in my arrow bag.”
Something hard and solid seemed to form in Jamie’s throat as he stared at Bloom nonchalantly showing off his weapons. Violence. Fighting. Death. There was no getting around it. It was inevitable. It just mattered who was going to die. The good guys or the bad guys. But he didn’t want anyone to die. Death dominated everything, even the world of magic. Violence cultivated it. It reminded him of the Alexanders.
He stared out at the dark sky. Why did it have to be like this? When he lived with the Alexanders, he thought he’d never feel calm and peaceful. When he saw his grandmother turn into a troll, he had lost all hope of a good life, a calm life, a life where he didn’t have to be afraid all the time. And then Eva and Annie came on a hovering snowmobile and brought him here to this magical town and for a moment he felt—well, he felt like he belonged. Sort of. Sure, everyone was a little afraid that he’
d turn troll, too, but Annie and Miss Cornelia and Helena—who had the most amazing bakery—and Mr. Nate and everyone … They’d … they’d accepted him. They didn’t think he’d turn troll, and Annie said she didn’t even care if he did. He’d always be Jamie and they’d always be friends.
That’s what mattered.
That’s always what mattered.
But he didn’t want to have any of them hurt, and he didn’t want to have to hurt anyone, not even the Raiff.
But people were already getting hurt, weren’t they? The demon had Miss Cornelia now. Who knew what he was doing to her.
A hand touched his shoulder and he jerked back. Annie.
“Are you ready, Jamie?” she asked. “I think it’s time. We have to go to Megan’s.”
He swallowed hard. “Now?”
Annie frowned next to Jamie. She was not a big fan of the hag who didn’t think she was good enough, who prophesied that Annie would “fall with evil.”
“Hags are fine,” Bloom said, ushering them forward, obviously responding to Annie’s frown and knowing it was about Megan. “You just have to remember they always expect the worst. Once Megan envisioned that all the vampires and werewolves fought over this boring human girl—no offense to the girl—and it turned out that she was just watching a movie. Same thing with her apocalypse dream. The one where all the humans killed each other in some weird game. You will be fine.”
“You’re braver about dealing with the Raiff than with a hag.” Eva shook her head. “Sometimes you make zero sense.”
“Sometimes,” Annie said, echoing some of Eva’s words as they walked into town, “it’s easier to deal with true evil than the kind of evil that pretends to be your friend.”
“Only way to deal with either is a swift kick to the neck,” Eva enthused.
They crept through the dark night on guard. Finally, they came to Megan’s strange little house with its ramshackle roof that slanted in too many directions and the walls of white stone. It smelled like lasagna. Eva sniffed at it. Her stomach growled.
They climbed through Megan’s window into her bright pink room.
The young hag glared at Annie and smiled beautifully at Bloom, who didn’t seem to notice. “You’re back! Finally! Did you get it?”
Bloom nodded. “Lichen?”
“In the closet, hidden. I’ve kept good care of him. He still—he is still sick. His life energy is low, but his wounds are healing.”
Bloom swallowed hard. The words seemed to stick in his mouth. “So he is … still alive?”
Bloom’s eyes filled with hope as Megan opened the closet door and whispered for them to keep their voices low even though the hags were watching their favorite show, The Real Hags of Hapsburg. Lichen lay at the edge of the closet, covered with a puffy pink quilt and several stuffed unicorns. His color was still not right—sort of dusky rather than bright—and his eyes were dull, lacking Bloom’s spark, or any spark really.
Annie knelt in front of the boy.
Megan snatched a baby Big Foot stuffed animal that Annie’s knee almost landed on and blurted in a whisper, “Yes. He is alive. I wouldn’t be much of a hag if he died.”
Bloom’s breath exhaled. He moved into the closet next to Annie and squished a stuffed turtle beneath his shin. Megan didn’t seem to care about that.
“Lichen?” Annie whispered. “Bloom has something to show you.”
The others gathered just outside the closet door, staring at the three of them as Bloom quietly pulled the Golden Arrow from his back quiver. Lichen’s eyes slowly followed Bloom’s movement and then widened in surprise. The edge of his mouth tilted up in a feeble smile as the entirety of the Golden Arrow was revealed.
“You got it,” Lichen whispered.
“Annie did,” Bloom replied.
“We all did,” Annie corrected him as he laid the arrow across Lichen’s lap. Behind them Megan made a scoffing noise.
Lichen’s hand came out from beneath the quilt, and he touched the arrow with reverence, carefully tracing the shaft of it with his index finger. “It’s so beautiful.”
Bloom agreed. “It is.”
“So there is hope?” Lichen met Bloom’s eyes and finally—finally there was a spark. “There is hope you will save them.”
Eva roared, “OF COURSE WE WILL SAVE THEM!”
Megan squeaked. “Eva! Shh! The hags!”
The television in the other room suddenly went silent. Megan’s eyes grew round and huge with fear.
“Hide … hide …,” she urged them, shoving them all inside the closet and closing the door behind them. Eva fell onto Annie’s back, flattening her. Jamie tried not to, but he was pretty sure he stepped on Bloom’s leg. “Get under the stuffies!”
There was a frenzy of activity as they frantically worked to bury themselves under Megan’s pink, glittery clothes and stuffed animals. What if the hags found them? How would they explain Lichen? The moment an adult knew about him, then the Raiff would know he had escaped. That couldn’t happen. Someone stepped on Annie’s hair and she yanked some clothes down, hoping that the extras would cover them enough to hide them if the hags checked in the closet. They wouldn’t, would they?
“What was that?” came a crooked, broken voice from beyond the closet door. It was one of Megan’s hag relatives. Annie wasn’t exactly sure how they were related or even if they were. She’d have to ask someday.
“What?” Megan asked. Her voice sounded … nervous.
“Sounded like a dwarf yelling,” the hag said. “Are you hiding a dwarf in here?”
“Ha! Like I would hide a dwarf.” Megan fake-laughed. It wasn’t very convincing.
The hags obviously didn’t think it was convincing either, and one of them threw open the closet door. Light poured in. Annie crossed her fingers and stared at the pink gauze of the tutu that covered her face. Beside her, Lichen seemed so still that she worried he was dead. She could feel Bloom on the other side, holding his breath. She wasn’t sure about Jamie’s location, but Eva definitely seemed like she was still sprawled across Annie’s lower legs at the end of the closet closest to the door.
“What’s this?” a hag shrieked.
Annie’s breath hitched. Someone grabbed her hand and squeezed. There was no hope. They were caught.
23
Helping Hags
The hag peered into the closet.
“Someone’s in this room with you!” she accused as Megan gasped, her fingers with perfectly manicured nails curled into fists.
The other hag had flattened herself on the floor, lifted up the bed ruffle, eyes peering beneath it, and announced, “Under the bed is clear.”
“All right … all right …,” Megan announced. “I’m hiding a dwarf.”
The hags gasped.
“She needed help with her homework and I—well, I know the rules about no late-night visitors and—” Megan’s lie was losing steam.
Everyone in the closet collectively held their breaths for one second, two, three.
There was a great flurry of commotion and a scattering of stuffed animals and Eva bounded out of the closet, standing in front of the hags and Megan, yanking a loose unicorn saddle out of her right pigtail.
“It’s true,” she said, dejected. “I came for help. NOT THAT DWARFS NEED HELP!”
Inside the closet, Jamie tucked Annie’s foot back under a purple sweater and then hid his hand back under a stuffed bunny. One of the hags pulled out her eye. It hovered in the air and then zigzagged around the room as if hunting for other intruders.
Eva back-kicked the closet closed just as the eye approached. It ricocheted off the closed door and launched toward the ceiling fan, barely missing it, and causing much commotion in the panicking hag who did not want to permanently lose an eye to the swirling fan blades.
Eva took advantage of the confusion and added to it, yelling, “CAN WE NOT TELL ANYONE ABOUT THIS! Dwarfs, as you know, do not ask for help. It could be the end of my reputation. My dad will never let me he
ar the end of it. Please … You cannot say anything! Promise! If you don’t, I swear you’ll see the end of my ax!”
A hag hissed. “Don’t be threatening me, dwarf.”
In the next instant, Eva was wrapped up in bedsheets, arms fastened to her side. The hag popped her eye back in her head, while the other made a series of intricate hand movements that seemed to cause the bedsheets to tighten around Eva. Eva lifted off the ground, levitating through the door and down the hall. The front door opened and Eva was forcibly floated right out of it, before she landed with a thud on the front lawn. The bedsheets unwound and slithered back inside the house. The hags had followed her to the door and now stood triumphantly, smiling. A lot of teeth were missing, which may have been a good thing, since the remaining teeth were black with rot.
“Never threaten a hag,” they said simultaneously. The door banged closed, and Eva was left in the middle of the lawn, unceremoniously dumped.
Inside her bedroom, Megan reopened the closet door and whisked the clothes, stuffed animals, and jewelry off the others.
“Really,” she said. “Dwarfs. So much drama.”
In the next moment, her voice softened and she turned all her attention to Lichen, who was still clutching the Golden Arrow, protecting it in all the ruckus. “Are you all right?”
His words came out slowly. “Yes. Thank you.”
They all stood up, except for Lichen who was too weak and Annie who was too hopelessly entangled in multiple pastel feather boas that she assumed were for dress up. But knowing Megan, maybe they were just regular clothes.
Annie put her hand on Bloom’s shirtsleeve, stopping him as he made his sad good-byes to Lichen.
“Bloom,” she said, finally disentangled from all the boas, “you don’t have to go.”
Bloom touched her hand on his sleeve. “It’ll be hard, Annie. I don’t know if we’ll make it back, but I’m the last elf here. I have to go.”
Megan gesticulated wildly. “That means you shouldn’t go! We can’t lose the last elf … other than Lichen, obviously.”
Her tone made it obvious that she didn’t think Lichen was much longer for this world.
