by Sarah Peters
Becca replied “yess 100x” so I pocketed the leaf and acorn and rolled myself off my bed (I did not land on my feet but Meg didn’t comment so I pretended my fall had never happened).
As I snuck downstairs, trying to get Mars Mission to stop following me, another acorn slammed into my head. I snatched the leaf out of my hair.
This one had the words “Kindly Find Your Escort, Bountiful Harvest, at 5515 Ravine Way, at 8:32pm”.
The address was familiar. I scratched my head where the acorn had dropped and pocketed the offending nut. Ravine Way… Finn’s house. But what or who the heck was my Escort, Bountiful Harvest?!
Anyway, it was almost 8:15, which didn’t give me a lot of time. I snuck into the kitchen and called Becca. I huddled near the oven and whispering, advised her to meet at Finn’s house pronto.
With the utmost stealth, I hung up the phone and slid past my parents as they watched tv in the living room. I cracked the front door open. Mars said “wroof!” and tried to insert herself into the crack, and I pushed her away, begging my parents not to hear.
Neither did.
I apologized silently to my poor sweet pupper, and shut the door on her inquiring, hopeful nose.
I’d forgone my usual sweatshirts for a proper jacket, but still shivered as I hurried past the park and ravine and towards Finn’s house. The two acorns knocked together in my pocket.
“Bountiful Harvest,” I muttered. “Escort?”
I bumped into Becca outside Finn’s house, just as she pulled up in her family’s old minivan.
“I can’t believe you didn’t get pulled over driving with a sheep’s head.” I was in awe
“I can’t believe I made it here without crashing,” she retorted. She prodded her fingers out from either side of her face. “My eyes point in different directions. I do NOT recommend trying to drive like that.”
“Safety is sexy,” I agreed. I showed her the two leaves. “I take it FakeFinn got us the invites.”
“Did you tell Tobias?”
I squinted at her. “What was I supposed to do? Catch a crow, tie a message to its leg and chuck it out the window? My phone’s dead, not to mention I don’t have his phone number.” I considered this. “Actually, what if I look into a mirror and say ‘Monday, Monday, Monday’ three times? Do you think that’d summon him or would it summon his moms?”
“Maybe if you tried it some ice cubes instead of a mirror,” Becca mused. She held up the leaf. “What do you think Bountiful Harvest is?”
“It’s me.”
Finn—well, FakeFinn—jogged up to us. He wore a pea coat (I had never in my life seen Finntina in a pea coat) and a beanie that covered his red hair. He gave me a disagreeable glower, before turning it towards Becca.
“A codename?” I asked hopefully.
“My name-name,” he snapped. “The Corn King traded me with his own son and gave me his name.”
My head swirled and I grabbed onto Becca for support. Too many TOTALLY FREAKING INSANE things had been compressed into that one sentence. “Wait, wait, wait! One, is the king of the Golden Court seriously called the CORN KING?! TWO, Finn’s his real son?!?! AND THREE, YOUR NAME IS BOUNTIFUL HARVEST!???!!?!?!?!”
“I go by Bo,” he said, quite primly.
“I’m calling you Bountiful Harvest,” I whispered, my hands clasped together in front of my mouth to keep myself from squealing like a six-year-old presented with a pony.
“Excuse me,” Becca interrupted. “Finn said he wasn’t wanted by the fairies, and that’s why he was switched.” Becca has a better memory than me. I had no recollection of this. “If he’s truly the King’s son… I mean… why?!”
Bo snorted. “You’ve seen him, right? Him without his glamor? He’s an embarrassment to the royal court. A moth of all things.”
“He looks really cool,” I retorted, offended on Finn’s behalf. “What’s so wrong with being a moth?!”
“Everything, when you’re the son of the Corn King.” Bo gave us another disdainful look. “Well? You ready to go? They’re not going to wait around forever for you.”
“What about Tobias?” I asked, our bet from earlier on my mind. And not like, Tobias’ general presence. So what if he was amazing and smelled good? Who cared about that? Not me.
“I’m here.”
Tobias stepped out of the shadows, his leathery wings extended, dark hair ruffling in a wind that didn’t reach us. He glanced at me momentarily before plopping his glamor back behind his ear with one clawed hand. Wings and claws and tail disappeared.
I pressed my lips against my curled hands, this time to hide my involuntarily grin.
Then I recalled that I was still low-key upset with him for selling me out to his friends. And for not letting me call him Toby.
That didn’t stop me from falling into step beside him as we walked to Finn’s car. “Why didn’t you tell me the king of the Court of the Golden Sun was called the Corn King?”
He gaze slid over to me. “I hadn’t realized it would be something important to you.”
“More than important,” I hissed. “Vital. To think I’ve been living in Butterfield my whole life unaware that there’s a freaking fairy called the CORN KING living nearby!” I tch’d. “A lifetime, wasted!”
Becca apparently didn’t despise Bo with the same deep loathing I did, and chatted with him as we climbed into Finn’s car. As such, this left me and Tobias with the backseat. I lifted my hand to give him a high-five, but he merely glanced at it before sliding into the car, leaving me hanging.
Bountiful Harvest was, if possible, a worse driver than Finn.
After three minutes I had to look away to stop myself from wincing every time he swerved too close to 1) other cars, 2) the curb, 3) stop signs, 4) pedestrians. I focused on Tobias instead.
“I’m going to win our bet,” I informed him. “You think you’re competitive, but you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
He lifted one eyebrow, no doubt because he knows its effect on me. “You’re just a weak human,” he replied, confident and dismissive. “You don’t stand a chance.”
“I’ve been in rough n’ tumble public school for the past twelve years, you private-school-petunia.” He did not look impressed, so I decided to change tactics. “Do you know what I’m going to make you do once I win?” I asked.
That almost-smile ghosted over his face before he calmed his expression. “Do tell.”
I leaned forward, my hand sliding closer to his on the seat. “It’s going to be a surprise.” I smirked. “But just know you’ll be left speechless and disturbed for days.”
It happened again. I surprised a laugh out of him. It sounded the way stepping outside on Christmas morning to a world covered in white snow felt.
Our eyes met for a weighted moment, and I realized my hand on the seat was close enough to his that I could feel that weird, electric energy vibrating off him. I hadn’t felt it since the first time we met, when he landed on me and I’d held his hand for too long.
My fingers twitched, yearning to bridge the gap and touch him.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Becca said, not sounding sorry in the least. “You still got the address, Cat?”
I snapped my attention away from Tobias’ moon colored eyes. “Doesn’t our escort, Bountiful Harvest, know where to go?”
He took his eyes off the road (it caused the car to swerve ever so menacingly into the other lane) to glare at me. “They change the guest entrance every night. Stop flirting with that monster and give me the address.”
“Are you a monster?” I asked Tobias politely as I passed Becca the address leaf.
He didn’t bother replying.
I let out a long sigh. “Are we there yet?”
“You must be terrible on long road trips,” Tobias observed.
“Oh, I’m the worst.” I shrugged. “It comes with being a middle child, I have to complain to make my voice heard. I have Suffered Greatly, let me tell you.”
But our moment from before se
emed lost, and I couldn’t grasp the threads of it no matter how I tried.
Becca helped direct Bo, which caused them both to raise their voices as it turned out they did not share a common understanding of the layout of Butterfield.
“He’ll likely ask you what you want in reward,” Tobias said, almost so quietly that I didn’t hear him. “The Corn King.”
I perked up.
Mindful of the conversation in the front seat I leaned towards him. “I’m going to ask for him to return Becca’s head to normal and then free Finn. In that order, so I win.”
Tobias shook his head in a quick, abortive motion. “No, those aren’t things he can give to just you, and will require more finesse. He’ll want to give you something material at first as a public show of gratitude, payment made for a service rendered. Treasures or riches, that sort of thing. Decline them.”
How did he know so much about this? I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. “So I shouldn’t be rewarded for my efforts in ruining your court’s magical burst and giving his court an advantage?”
He held up his hand and pointed at the base of his pinky finger. “He wears a ring here. Ask for it.”
I kept my eyes narrowed. “And why would I want a tiny ring?” I held up my own bare hands. “I’m not really into rings, if you couldn’t tell.”
Tobias’ eyes shifted to the front seat, but Becca and Bo were arguing about which way to turn off the road and weren’t paying attention. He leaned closer, so close that my skin tingled and a shiver slithered down my body. “If you give me that ring, I can personally guarantee that my queen will forget your offense. And my entire court.”
Ummmm, sure, none of this sounded suspicious as heck. “What’s so important about the ring?”
“An heirloom from the fey realm,” he replied, eyes returning to mine. “Important only to us.”
“What do I get in exchange?” I was beginning to understand how he and his queen operated. This-for-that. Bargains and trades. “If it’s so important that I have to give up treasure… I mean, I need something good in return.”
His cool gaze flickered over my face, considering. Finally, a smile twitched at the corners of his lips. “I’ll carry you. A proper ride. In the sky.”
“You’ll take me flying?!” I squeaked, my delight overwhelming all rational thought. I grinned like an idiot and grabbed his hand despite our weird tension. “Really?!”
He nodded once.
I, Catherine Eloise Wadell, can do many things, but learn my lesson is not one of them. I was a like a bird that needed to find worms to eat but kept getting distracted by sparkly pebbles that choked me when I tried to swallow them.
“Done!” I said gushingly. I clasped his hand between my own and bounced excitedly. Flying! Actually flying!
“Stop bouncing around, you’re distracting me!” Bo wailed from the front seat.
“Just ignore her,” Becca said, trying to soothe him. Her attempt failed as she gasped and threw up her hand, pointing. “Oh! This is our turn!”
The car skidded and spun to the left, knocking me into Tobias, and flattening Tobias against the door.
We swerved wildly onto the new road, and within seconds found ourselves driving between tall rows of corn along a small gravel road. It blocked all lights, narrowing our vision of the world to the twisty, tiny tunnel ahead of us.
The car rebounded with each hole we hit, and Becca shouted at Bo to slow down, but he slammed the acceleration instead, his knuckles tight and straining white around the wheel. "IT'S PART OF THE MAGIC!" he shouted, as if that would make us feel any better. On either side, the rows and rows of corn sped past faster and faster until it was just an endless, dizzying blur of stalk and leaves, seemingly growing closer and closer to the road with each turn we whipped around.
The wheels hit a deep hole, and we were all thrown into the air despite our seatbelts, hitting the ground heavily. We screamed at Bo to slow down, but he ignored us, zipping past the endless corn.
Or not endless. With a roar, we reached the end of the corn and rocketed across an open field. The headlights bounced, but we all saw the shabby old farmhouse at the same time.
“STOPPPP!” Becca screamed. “BRAKE! PLEASE, BRAKE!”
“WE’RE GOING TO DIE!!!” I screamed.
Bo finally seemed to snap out of it and he shouted in alarm as we careened towards the farmhouse. He slammed on the brakes, sending us jerking forward and then snapping back. The car spun and tilted and zipped and whirled and I think even Tobias was screaming at that point and I was convinced I’d die because of some idiot named Bountiful Harvest, but the car skidded and screeched and with a shudder, stopped a foot from the farmhouse.
We collapsed back, the silence deafening.
A single light turned on inside the farmhouse, illuminating a small second story window.
Bo released his hands from the steering wheel, clenching them like claws. Shakily, he laughed. “W-welcome to the Court of the Golden Sun.”
CORN KING
Tobias and I realized we still held hands—gripped, more like—and we each hastily let go. We climbed out of our respective doors pretending we hadn’t been clinging to each other during the wild drive. We had reputations to uphold as brave, resolute members of society, after all.
“This is where the Court of the Golden Sun hangs out?” I gave the dilapidated farmhouse a dubious look-over. Even in the moonlight, I made out the peeling paint and the whole structure tilted ever so slightly to the left. It was the sort of place Becca would go to get cool photography shots, and Finn would go to explore for ghosts.
It was not the sort of place I expected a summery court to hang.
Bo scoffed. “It’s an entrance. The physical court isn’t here, this is just a way in.”
I happened to look at Tobias and caught the backend of his puzzled frown. I recalled the Court of the Winter Falls hanging out in Lorraine Park, and wondered if they didn’t have the same kind of swanky magic available for their own hideout. I guess it’d been fourteen years since they last got a magical boost, and thanks to yours truly, they’d have to wait another fourteen years for another.
Since I didn’t regret saving Jake’s life, it was easy to push away the tickling guilt. Anyway, the Queen of the Winter Falls had forced me to hold Jake as a rotting piece of chicken and a giant spider. She’d made me fall over the falls. I had nothing to be guilty about.
Something smacked me in the top of my skull and rolled over my forehead.
I caught the acorn and leaf automatically.
It said, “The Invitation to the Court of the Golden Sun Extends to Catherine Wadell + One Guest.”
I glanced from Becca to Tobias. I defs had two guests. Eh, the fairies could suck it. If they tried to stop me, I’d tell them Tobias was here on his own. I didn’t need him to fix Becca’s head or rescue Finn. (Which wasn't to say I wasn't glad he was here, because as dubious as his motivation to be near me was, I appreciated his sturdy presence.)
I pocketed the acorn and realized everyone else was looking at me. “Let’s get crackin’,” I said, pretending I hadn’t just been hit in the head with a nut.
