Trix & the Faerie Queen

by Alethea Kontis

  “Last chance to be brave and come with us instead,” said Trix.

  “It’s for a good cause,” Lizinia added.

  “I wouldn’t go back to the Hill if you paid me,” said the leprechaun. “Not even for that shiny, incredibly well-crafted dagger.”

  Trix had no intention of offering the cowardly little man anything, but he raised his eyebrows as if considering the bargain.

  “Help!” Saturday cried from the forest.

  “Lizinia, did you hear that?” asked Trix.

  “Help!” she cried again.

  “Saturday’s in trouble,” said Lizinia.

  “Oh you have got to be kidding me,” said the leprechaun.

  Trix ignored the small man. “This is not good. Saturday would never call for help unless she was desperate.”

  “You’re right,” said Lizinia. “We need a plan.”

  “Are you two hearing yourselves right now?” asked Vick.

  “You stay here with Vick and I’ll go check it out,” Trix said to Lizinia.

  “Stay here?” Lizinia shook her bow at him. “I’m the one who can actually hit something she’s aiming at. Besides, the call is coming from this direction.” She began to drift away from them both.

  The leprechaun, tired of being ignored, walked over to Trix and stomped on his foot.

  “Ow! Why did you do that?” yelled Trix.

  Vick pointed at Lizinia. “Because I suspect it would have hurt me more if I did it to the girl with metal shoes. Now. Are you paying attention?”

  Trix hopped, taking his weight off the bad foot. He’d been foggy-headed with exhaustion and hunger, but the pain and anger cleared that up a bit. “Lizinia and I need to get to the Faerie Queen. My sister and the rest of our party were supposed to meet us at the Hill. But there was a wolf—”

  “Oh no.” Lizinia gasped. “What if Wolf hurt her? Trix, we never should have left them.”

  “Help!” Saturday cried again.

  “Save us!” cried the Faerie Queen.

  “You must have heard that,” said Trix. “I told you the queen needed our help. Now will you let us…what do you think you’re doing?” The leprechaun had lifted his leg, ready to stop on the other foot. Trix pushed him away.

  “That’s not your sister,” said Vick, “or the Faerie Queen, or anyone else you know.”

  Trix growled at the little man. For all his posturing about leaving them on their own, Vick didn’t seem to be actually leaving. Trix was ready to see the backside of this pest. “I should think I know what my sister sounds like.” Goodness knows he’d had the Faerie Queen’s words bouncing around in his brain for so long that he’d recognize her voice anywhere.

  “You said it yourself that she wouldn’t be calling for help.”

  “Help!” cried another voice, this one deeper.

  “Peregrine!” said Lizinia. “Or Betwixt! Oh, Trix, we must go to them!”

  “You don’t even know who’s calling to you!” Vick yelled at them.

  “Help!” yelled Saturday. She sounded closer. Or farther away.

  Why were they wasting anymore time here? “Shouldn’t you be on your merry way already?” asked Trix. “Good day to you, sir. Or good evening. Whichever you prefer.”

  “IT’S A FETCH,” Vick growled, loud enough to cut through the panicked fog in Trix’s head. “Don’t you know what a fetch is?”

  Trix stomped deeper into the Wood. “All I know is that my sister needs help. And after I help her, then I need to save the world. I am not as selfish as you.”

  This time the leprechaun tripped him. When Trix fell to the ground, Vick hopped on his chest and put a hand on either side of Trix’s face, covering his ears.

  “Trix, right?” Vick yelled into his face. His breath smelled like stale crackers and brine. “Trust me. The thing calling to you is a creature called a fetch. Probably more than one—they tend to run in packs. They lure innocent travelers such as yourselves into the forest in the dark of night by mimicking the voice of a loved one. And then they eat your soul.”

  Trix tried to shake off the leprechaun. “At least I have a soul.”

  Vick snatched up the end of Trix’s bow and hooked his arm through it. “I can’t let you do this.”

  “So we die by the hand of the fetch or the Zoo of Death, as you call it. What do you care?”

  “Help!” cried Saturday.

  “Hurry!” cried Peregrine. Or Betwixt. Their voices sounded closer.

  “Get out of the way,” Lizinia grabbed Vick’s hood and lifted the little man off of Trix.

  “Save us,” cried the Faerie Queen.

  “Help us!” No, that was definitely Betwixt.

  “All right! All right! I’ll take you to the Hill! I’ll take you to the blasted Hill and prove to you that your sister is just fine.”

  It was a bold enough statement that Trix believed it, but Lizinia looked skeptical. “And Peregrine too?”

  “And Grubwort and Pigsbreath and everyone else your sister happens to be traveling with, yes. We will go to the hill and meet up with your party and you will see that there is no one in this Wood who needs help.” Vick smirked. “Present company excluded.”

  “Help!” cried Saturday.

  Lizinia stared off into the Wood.

  “Resist it,” said Vick. “You must.”

  “What are we supposed to do?” asked Trix.

  “Stop up your ears any way you can,” Vick said. “Do you have anything in your bag that can start a fire? That will help keep them away. That magical doodad around your neck certainly doesn’t seem to be helping.”

  As if offended, the tooth’s light went out completely. Trix slid the mostly-empty pack off his back and rummaged inside it, looking for the flint.

  “Help!” cried Peregrine. Trix steeled himself against the voices. He concentrated on his hunger. On the meager pile of sticks and leaves Vick shoved in front of him. On creating a spark large enough to coax a flame.

  “They sound even closer now,” whispered Lizinia.

  “You’ll want to hurry with that fire,” said Vick.

  The fire wasn’t catching on the fresh grass. Too bad they hadn’t stayed in the dead spot on the road where the spriggans had stepped.

  “Help!” cried Saturday. She sounded almost on top of them.

  “Save us,” cried the Faerie Queen. But that was all she said. She did not say his name. She did not say the rest of the words. Trix concentrated on that difference as he struck the flint again and again.

  Vick stopped tossing sticks on the pile and stood. He tilted his head from side to side, as if listening. Lizinia made a move to speak again, but the leprechaun raised a finger and she remained silent. Then he moved his lips, but no words came out. From deep in the Wood, they heard another cry.

  Trix dropped the flint and covered his ears. All the voices—inside his head, outside his head—and none of them real. He wondered if this was what it felt like to go mad.

  “Oh, Trix, we have to help them!” said Lizinia. Only…it wasn’t Lizinia. It was Lizinia’s voice, but Lizinia hadn’t said a word. She shrugged and pointed to Vick. Trix dropped his hands and listened closely, his eyes never leaving the leprechaun.

  Vick’s mouth moved again. From deep in the Wood, they heard Trix reply, “It’s coming from over here. Quick! This way!”

  There was a rustle in the leaves close behind them—too close—followed by a breathy, evil chuckle. A horde of tiny feet scampered into the Wood, following the voices.

  Trix sat, open-mouthed, over the tiny flame that flickered up out of the flint and the leaves. Vick joined him, the shadows turning his face gaunt.

  “Two can play at that game,” said the leprechaun. “You two get some rest. We’ll be off at first light.”

  8

  The Blood Court

  Having heard one too many tales of devious leprechauns, Trix woke every few minutes to keep an eye on Vick. He made sure that Trebald was safely hidden in Lizinia’s hair before using his
meager pack as a makeshift pillow. He hooked his arm through his bow, and placed his foot strategically beside Lizinia’s. The little man would back out of his offer to help them sneak into Faerie at the first opportunity; Trix didn’t expect to see him come sunrise. But he didn’t want to risk losing their weapons and what few supplies they had left to a light-finger in the process.

  And yet, dawn came and Vick remained. The leprechaun not only graced them with his presence, but he’d also collected two pockets full of nuts, persimmons and crab apples. Trix was so famished that he’d forgotten he’d sworn off apples forever and gushed over the bounty. He reached for a crab apple, only to have it snatched from his fingers by a deceptively stealthy Trebald. “I saw it first, you rat!” cried Trix.

  “That doesn’t look like any rat I’ve ever seen,” said Vick.

  Trebald stuck his nose in the air and gave a definitive sniff in Vick’s direction, whiskers twitching all the while. “Charlatan,” he said to Trix. “Yes, yes.”

  “Be nice,” warned Trix.

  Trebald sank his pointed teeth into the meat of the apple and scurried back up Lizinia’s arm to his hiding place.

  “My pet,” lied Lizinia. “You’ll have to excuse him. He’s shy.” The sound of contented munching began to emanate from the back of her neck.

  Vick, however, was more interested in Trix. “It spoke to you, didn’t it?”

  Trix didn’t see any way to dodge the answer. “He said he was pleased to meet you.”

  “Oh, I highly doubt that.” Vick waggled his finger at Trix. “You can talk to the animals. I’ve heard about you.”

  Trix shrugged. “It’s not as impressive as it sounds.” It would have been far more impressive had his ability been able to save them from the spriggans last night. Or the bumble bugs. Or the fetch. Trix considered their adventures of the evening before and weighed them against Vick’s observation. Had the leprechaun been testing him?

  Trix shook his head and reached for a persimmon. Exhaustion and hunger and the Faerie Queen’s incessant compulsion were driving him positively mad. As if to illustrate the point, Trix looked up to see Papa Gatto perched on a branch of the tree, swinging his tail lazily and grinning deviously down upon them.

  “What is he up to?” Trix said to Lizinia as she leaned in to retrieve a chestnut from the fire.

  “Mischief,” Lizinia said without looking up into the trees. She clearly did not feel it was wise to draw undue attention to her ethereal feline godfather.

  Vick froze and his eyes widened. He turned to search the Wood behind him, but not before Papa Gatto had allowed the rays of the morning sun to erase him. When he turned back, he eyed Trix and Lizinia warily. “Please don’t tell me there’s some other bugaboo after us. I am not awake enough to deal with more nonsense.”

  Trix thought that a strange thing to say. The leprechaun had been awake enough to stoke the fire and forage for food, the latter of which must have taken a great deal of time.

  “He means my brownie,” said Lizinia. “He can be a bit of a troublemaker at times.”

  From beneath Lizinia’s hair came a disgruntled snort, followed by more crabapple crunching. “Takes one to know one,” Trebald mumbled with his mouth full.

  Trix caught himself before the laugh escaped him, but Vick noticed. “He said something there too, didn’t he?”

  Trix stuffed his mouth with the rest of the persimmons.

  Vick raised an eyebrow. As both the leprechaun’s silver brows were as thick and bushy as his hair, it made an impressive gesture. “Don’t be so humble, boy. Where we’re about to go, only wild things reign. That little talent might actually save our hides.”

  Trix swallowed. “I’ll do my best.”

  “You won’t have a choice.” Vick sighed, and then kicked dirt over the embers of the fire. “Ready then? Let’s get this over with.”

  The deep of the Wood was only slightly less menacing in the daylight. After the strange encounters of the past evening, Trix concentrated on every creak of every branch and every rustle of every leaf, straining his already overtaxed mind. Even Lizinia jumped at shadows.

  Trix scrutinized each animal that crossed their path. The free-roaming, unenchanted beasts in this part of the world intrigued Trix. Every other creature that snuck past them was a new discovery. There had been a family of large-eyed opossums with long fingers, a flock of tiny birds so rich in color that they looked like jewels dropping down from the sky, and a horned beetle with an elaborate indigo carapace.

  “Steer clear there,” Vick said of the last one. “The pads of its feet leave a venom that will give you nightmares for days. Not to mention a terrible itch.” The leprechaun shuddered. “Learned that the hard way.”

  “Is it just me,” Lizinia said softly, “or does it seem like everything in this forest is out to harm us?”

  Vick moved a vine aside so that they could pass beneath it. “It’s just nature responding to nature,” he said. “Magic is thick in the air here, which means more ways to get captured and more traps to die in. The animals here have adapted in order to survive.”

  When they’d met him, Vick wanted nothing more than to be as far away from Faerie as his legs could carry him. Now he was leading them there, feeding them, and teaching them valuable lessons along the way? Trix bit his tongue and kept his suspicions to himself, but he remained wary of the spry little man.

  “Goodness,” said Lizinia. “Without fey magic to hinder them, those animals are possibly the most dangerous beasts in the Wood.”

  “That’s about the size of it,” said Vick. He came to a halt so quickly that Trix almost tripped over him. “The Hill is just beyond that grove. I need to get my bearings to find the entrance.” He pointed to a fallen log. “You two rest there. And stay sharp.”

  Dutifully, Lizinia sat. “I thought I would be more relieved to be here,” she said. “But now that we’re almost to the Hill, I sort of wish we weren’t.”

  “I know how you feel,” Trix said as he joined her.

  “Saturday said she would meet us here. Do you think we should stay and look for her a while before heading down into the Hill?”

  Trix had been asking himself the same question all morning. He did want to wait for his sister. But he didn’t want to waste any more time getting to the Faerie Queen. Nor did he want to give Vick time to change his mind. The leprechaun had decided to be helpful today, for whatever reason, and Trix fully intended to take advantage of that.

  “Even if she finds a way to subdue Wolf while he’s in animal form, we have no idea how long that will take,” said Trix.

  “And Wolf will stay an animal until we help the queen,” said Lizinia. “Dilemma.”

  Trebald stuck his nose out from Lizinia’s hair. “I can stay here and wait for her, yes?” asked the brownie. “I’m not in a hurry to rush down there. No, no.”

  “I’d have thought you’d be excited,” said Trix. “Brownies love caves.”

  “Brownies love dark and quiet caves,” said Trebald. “Not caves full of lions and tigers and bears and gods know what else. No, no.”

  “He’s worried he might be prey for the larger beasts, is that it?” guessed Lizinia.

  “Pretty much,” said Trix.

  Trebald nuzzled the clever girl’s cheek in appreciation. His pointed teeth flashed in the sunlight.

  Trix snapped his fingers. “We’ll leave a mark on a tree.” He pulled the golden dagger from his belt. “That way, Saturday will know we were here.”

  “Good idea,” said Lizinia.

  Trix carved a deep “T” into the trunk of the nearest silver birch. There had been a grove of silver birch near the towerhouse—when she was small, their youngest sister had declared the trees magic and refused to let Papa chop any of them down. Saturday might overlook a mark on other trees, but she would notice this one.

  Vick emerged from the brush just as Trix was finishing. “If you’re done carving your love notes, I’ve found the entrance. Follow me.”

&nb
sp; “He’s charming,” said Trebald. “Yes, yes. I’m so glad you picked him up.”

  “Someone’s snarky when they’re well rested,” Trix said to the brownie.

  The leprechaun assumed Trix was addressing him instead. “I do pride myself on my beauty sleep.” With that, he pressed a knot on the tree and disappeared into a hole in the thick trunk.

  Lizinia leaned into the tree and peered down into the black abyss. “It’s terribly dark,” she said.

  Trix remembered back to the spriggans and held up his necklace with the tooth. “Dear Tooth,” he said. “Does this entrance lead under the Hill?”

  Wisdom’s tooth sprang to light in affirmation.

  “All right then,” said Lizinia. “Lead the way, Wise Guy.”

  “I like her so much more than the nasty little man,” said Trebald. “Yes, yes.”

  “Me too,” Trix said to the brownie. He carved another quick “T” into this tree and led the way down.

  The tree was so hollow, Trix wondered how it managed to stay alive at all. Carved into its wood was a steep staircase leading underground. The oaken steps turned to dirt, and then stone, twisting and turning, always down and down. Trix’s ears popped. Thankfully, the light from Wisdom’s tooth never waned.

  Roots popped out of the walls at various intervals; Trix used them as rough handholds as they descended. The air was damp and cool and smelled like earth. Trix heard someone behind him take a deep breath. “Life and loam,” sighed Trebald. “Yes, yes. I do miss this.”

  Eventually, the walls turned to rock, shot through with veins of black and gold that sparkled in the magical light. Lizinia’s foot slipped on the step behind him and she caught Trix’s shoulder to keep her balance.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. “I can go slower, if you like.”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Just caught a bit of moss. How far down does he intend to take us?”

  “To the center of the earth,” Trix joked.

  “Feels like it.”

  “Hey, Vick,” Trix called out into the darkness. “Are we there yet?”

  He would not have been surprised if the leprechaun had taken this opportunity to ditch them in the darkness, but a voice called back, “We are.”