Fair Folk Foul

by Sarah Peters

  There was no response from the wand, which was likely all for the best, because the last thing I needed was a talking stick.

  I stuffed it back between my jeans and undies and bolted for the edge of the party.

  “That was no big deal,” I said to no one in particular (maybe to the wand, idk). “Operation Save Becca’s halfway there.”

  I came to a stop at the edges of the prairie.

  Now for the hard part—finding Becca.

  Bee-Bop-A-Doo-Ba-Alakazam?

  I stood near the tables full of food, ignored my growling stomach, and eyed the party. I checked my wrist, before recalling that I didn’t wear, much less own, a watch.

  Regardless, it had to be close to 9am, if not past that. How was that party still going?!

  Not to mention, where the heck were my friends?!

  I paced for a few minutes, keeping one eye on the spa for the Corn King, and another on the party for a glimpse of a sheep head. I didn’t want to go back inside and get lost trying to find Tobias, and I definitely didn’t want to join the mass of writhing dancers and get caught up in that mess again.

  Eventually, I went with the most ridiculous option. I climbed onto the nearest chair, put my hands around my mouth and hooted like an owl.

  “I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” Tobias said, strolling up alongside my chair, his hands in his pockets, looking, as usual, like walking sin.

  I climbed off the chair and gave him a cheery smile. “Please tell me you heard me hooting and teleported here immediately.”

  His pale eyes narrowed, and if I didn’t know better I’d say he was suppressing a smile. Instead of answering me, he said in his most dampening way, “you smell like a swamp.”

  “No need to be so effusive in your praise,” I retorted with a flippant wave of my hand. “Do you see Becca anywhere? I need to find her."

  “Isn’t that what you ran off to do an hour ago?”

  I ignored the question. “Do you think she got stuck in the dance again?” I really hoped not. Becca hated being forced to do anything and being forced to dance with a bunch of strangers would probably be torture.

  “I’m fine, Cat,” Becca said, walking up from behind me. Her sheep eyes bulged and her teeth showed. She didn’t look fine. She looked as ragged as Cinderella at 12:01. Well, if Cinderella had a sheep’s head.

  Had she heard my owl hoot too?!!

  Next to her stood Finn—proper Finn!—and he grinned at me, his eyes on my algae covered self and bare feet. Then, his eyes shifted to Tobias standing next to me and his grin broadened into a full out smirk.

  I wrapped myself around Becca’s arms regardless of her protest that I stank and glared at Finn.

  “I’m surprised to see you still here, Tobias,” Finn drawled, his wicked amusement aimed all at me, despite the direction of his words. “I thought our party would’ve bored you by now.”

  “I am about to win a bet against Cat,” Tobias said, mild as milk.

  I scoffed. “Yeah right, you’re about to be a sad, sorry loser.” I stepped away from Becca and pulled out the stick. I flourished it with a dramatic wave. “Here, O’ Maiden Fair, is your salvation!”

  Becca squinted at me. “Cat, what the hell is that.”

  “Cat!” Finn yelped at the same time. “Cat, where did you get that?!”

  “This,” I informed Becca, “is probably a magic wand.” I gave Finn an arch look over a shoulder, “And I stole this from a baby, where else would I have gotten it?”

  Finn slapped his palm against his face and groaned, “Cat, no, please tell me you didn’t!”

  Tobias studied the wand as I held it aloft for a few triumphant seconds. His eyes widened a fraction and he glanced curiously at Finn. “Is that the--?”

  Finn reached for the wand and I skipped out of his way, circling behind Becca. I didn’t care what this magic stick actually was, not as long as it could help my friend.

  I didn’t hesitate. I smacked the wand down on top of Becca’s fluffy head. “Bibbidi-bop-a-dee-bop-a-dormal,” I declared. I tapped it on her head three times. “Return my friend’s head back to normal!”

  Nothing happened.

  “Tch, you kidding me?” I stared at the stick with its stupid brush of grass and was about to throw it on the ground when Becca shrieked.

  Instead I stuffed the wand down my shirt and grabbed her hands. Her head looked wrong—wronger than a sheep—as if it had blurred and smeared. Something fizzled, something popped, and with a bang, her sheepness melted off her head. It streaked down her neck and shoulders and back as if someone had dumped a bucket of curdled Pepto Bismol over her.

  Her usual head remained, covered in melted sheep muck, her dark hair matted with pink gloppy bits. With a shudder she pulled her hands out of mine to wipe at her face.

  It’d worked. The stupid magic wand had actually worked.

  I screeched and threw my arms around her shoulders, not minding the melty gloop or the smell coming off both of us, or her protests.

  “IT WORKED IT WORKED IT WORKED!” I pranced around her, still not letting go, and absolutely unable to stop my laughter. I wiped a spot (relatively) clear on her cheek and despite what I’d told Max about kissing girls, smacked the biggest, happiest kiss against her cheek. “You taste worse than Max’s hand,” I declared, hugging her tighter, “and you definitely need a shower.”

  “Who’s Max and why were you tasting his hand?” Becca wondered, trying and failing to both hug me back and clean her face.

  I recalled my promise to her about pretending I didn’t like her. “Some weirdo. I licked her for normal reasons.” I let go of her only to slap my hands on either side of her face.

  Becca sensed what I was about and ducked out of the way before I could kiss her again.

  “We need to get out of here,” she said, always the voice of reason. She grabbed Finn’s sleeve. “You too. I finally got rid of Bo, but we came here to save you too.”

  “That’s right,” I agreed, plucking his other sleeve in my hand. “Now that I’ve single-handedly saved Becca, I need to single-handedly save you too.”

  But Finn started shaking his head, and he wiggled out of our grip. “Sorry,” he sighed, “but I really can’t. The Corn King will know, and I can’t risk him being mad at the two of you for trying to get me out.”

  “But we need you,” I said, quite baffled. I pointed from myself to Becca to him. “You’re the popcorn to our salt and butter.”

  Any further arguments from Finn were waylaid when a shout rose up behind us. It sounded an awful lot to be along the lines of “THOSE DRATTED HUMANS ARE STILL HERE AND WE ARE MAD ABOUT IT.”

  “Ope,” I hissed. “I forgot to mention, I got a leaf saying the Corn King was kicking us out.”

  “When, exactly, did you get this leaf?” Tobias inquired, lifting an eyebrow.

  I shrugged and looked away from his expression. He had to know how much I wanted to kiss him whenever he gave me that superior look. “I’m at a fairy party, how am I supposed to keep track of time?” This was true enough. I had neither watch nor phone.

  Finn muttered something under his breath, but he didn’t sound mad, just hassled. “Here,” he said, digging in a pocket and producing his car keys. He pressed them into Becca’s hand (smart, because I can’t drive) and said, “get out of here while you can. I’ll distract them.”

  “And follow us out, right?” I asked, although I knew he’d dodge the question.

  And sure enough he winked and turned away without answering.

  “Finntrick J. Brooks, I swear,” I growled, but Becca grabbed my hand and pulled me away. I realized why a second later, when I spotted two burly fairies with shaggy brown fur and humped backs that strongly reminded me of bison-- charging towards us.

  To my surprise and delight, Tobias grabbed my other hand, tugging me along with Becca.

  “How do we get out of here??” Becca skirted the edges of the dancers. “Is the car still parked near that farmhouse?”
>
  “Behind the stage,” Tobias said, his eyes moving along the edges of the party, as if he could see something I couldn’t. “They shifted the doorway, likely in the hopes you’d have to exit out via the spa. And walk home.”

  “Rude,” I muttered.

  He didn’t look offended. “Meant as a joke, presumably.”

  “Are you bummed you didn’t win our wager?” I asked it mostly to distract myself from the music, which was tugging at my attention like Mars Mission whining to be played with.

  Tobias didn’t seem like the sort of fellow who said ‘bummed,’ which he confirmed when he gave me the side-eye and said, “you shouldn’t have stolen that wand.”

  “I made a fair trade for this wand!” I protested. Since I said it to him, it had to be true, right?? “Acorns for a stick.”

  “And of course you have no idea what that wand actually does,” he scoffed.

  “I think you’re avoiding the issue, which is that I won our bet and can now ask you three wishes.”

  Something pulled at my right hand, and I realized it was Becca, moving towards the crowd, her eyes unfocused and her body swaying. “Aww heck no,” I groaned, tugging her back. “Becca! Becc! Snap out of it!”

  Something zipped in front of me and literally face planted on Becca. I realized it was Tiny Finn, looking more like a moth than a man. I heard his squeaky little voice shouting at her, and she shook her head, her eyes momentarily un-glazing.

  “They’re almost on us!” Tiny Finn hollered, bouncing between us, but not before Becca’s head turned back to the music, distracted again. “Hurry and get out of here!!”

  I got an idea.

  Not my finest idea, but probably not my worst one either, all things in my life considered.

  I dropped Becca’s hand. “Finn! Make sure she gets to the car! We’ll be right behind you!”

  I didn’t wait for his response before I tightened my grip on Tobias’ hand and made a mad dash for the stage.

  Tobias, beautiful, splendid Tobias, didn’t resist as I elbowed a twiggy fairy out of the way and climbed up onto the steps to the stage. The music was nearly deafening up here, but I turned to him and took his other hand. Shouting over the music, I asked, “You can play guitar, right?”

  “As established,” he shouted back, his dark eyebrows narrowed, but his eyes glinting in amusement. Apparently he sensed what I had planned. “Can you sing?”

  “Like an angel!”

  I ignored his skeptical expression and glanced over his shoulder to see the two buffalo fairies advancing. They’d focused in on us, instead of Becca and Finn, and were stomping towards the stage.

  “Let’s crash this party like the wild youth we are,” I yelled, pulling him fully onto the stage. Without ceremony I marched up to the mic and grabbed it out of the hands of a fairy with endlessly rippling waterfall hair mid-chorus.

  She stared at me in bafflement, but I turned my back to her and glanced at Tobias. He’d used his own nefarious means to take the nearest guitar out of the hands of the badger-girl playing it. Tobias titled his chin and with a wicked grin that made me catch my breath, he leaned into his own mic and announced, in his smoothest, most delicious voice, “for one day only, I present…Cat and the Fey!”

  I had not actually thought of what song I could possibly sing to a crowd of entranced fairies.

  The first one that bubbled up was the last song I’d sung (“Old Town Road” loudly in the shower whenever that last shower had been), but I swallowed it back. I could do better. I had to do better.

  A few fairies in front of me had stopped dancing as only the drummer continued a hesitant beat, unsure about our shenanigans.

  My eyes caught the moist, angry eye of one of the bison-fairies.

  Crap crap crap.

  I seized the mic stand and took a step towards the crowd. With a colossal inhale I belted out the first lyrics that my dumb brain remembered.

  “HERE WE GO AGAIN—I KINDA WANNA BE MORE THAN FRIENDS, SO TAKE IT EAST ON ME, I’M AFRAID YOU’RE NEVER SATISFIIIIIEDD—”

  Tobias’ guitar trilled, and he swung into the song with a quiet laugh and a small shake of his head.

  “—HERE WE GO AGAIN WE’RE SICK LIKE ANIMALS, WE PLAY PRETEND, YOU’RE JUST A CANNIBAL AND I’M AFRAID I WON’T GET OUT ALIIIIVE—"

  The drummer picked up the beat, and even the flutist, with an uncertain toot, joined in.

  Tobias, marvelous and magnificent behind an instrument, played as if he’d practiced this song every night in front of the mirror, his long fingers gliding along the neck of the guitar, his dark hair thrown back to expose his neck, his grin savage. Music illuminated and consumed him, his commitment to it as exquisite as a synchronized swim team at the Olympics.

  We moved around each other like magnets, him periodically leaning into my mic to join me at the chorus, our eyes meeting for brief, thrilling seconds, and before us, the crowd of fairies surged and danced.

  As I sang “SAY GOODBYE TO MY HEART TONIGHT,” for the final verse, I noticed the buffalo fairies on the far side of the stage, unamused and unaffected by our song.

  I gurgled out a laugh and steadied the mic stand. Tobias glanced at me, and I nodded towards the advancing fairies.

  Smooth as a criminal, he slid the strap of the guitar over his neck and passed it back to the fairy he’d stolen it from.

  We grabbed each other’s hands and ran for the opposite side.

  I hesitated at the edge—it was just far enough down that I was pretty sure I’d break my leg if I tried jumping-- but Tobias let go of my hand, wrapped his arm around my waist and launched us off the stage.

  His wings snapped open and instead of plummeting we glided, soaring for two seconds over the ground, which was just enough time for me to start slipping out of his grasp. I stumbled to the ground with him half a second behind, and we laughed, taking each other’s hands again and bolting towards the exit he pointed at, an innocuous space between two tiki torches.

  We burst between the torches and with a snap, our feet landed on old wooden boards instead of tough dirt. I skidded to a stop seconds before I collided with the wall of the moldy old farmhouse.

  Headlights flickered from beyond the rotting planks, and I let out an exaggerated sigh, “do you think it’s the police or my buds?”

  “If your friends are half as stubborn as you, it’s them,” Tobias said, pulling the door open.

  He was right, which I could’ve kissed him for.

  Finn’s car waited feet from the door to the farmhouse, but when we slid into the back, only Becca sat in the front seat.

  “Where’s Finn?!” I demanded, trying to shove open the door back open to go find him.

  Tobias grabbed me before I could— just as the front door of the farmhouse slammed open and two enormous men (no longer looking like buffalo but still recognizably them) hustled out.

  Becca screamed, I screamed, and she swung the car around, smashing the acceleration and nearly zooming into the cornfield.

  But Becca’s a sublime driver, perfected from two years of driving her family’s ancient minivan, so she adjusted our mad hurtle and made it onto the road, blasting through the cornfields, getting us farther and farther away from that insane fairy party.

  ...And also Finn.