“She really does look like your Aunt Joy, doesn’t she?”
“Sorrow and Joy are twins,” said Trix. “That tends to happen.”
Lizinia turned her head to the other woman on the floor. “But she looks a lot like the Faerie Queen too. I’m not sure I would have been able to tell them apart.”
“May I?” With Lizinia’s permission, Trix used his golden dagger slice up more of her magicked gown. The material parted easily beneath his blade. “The stories say that those blessed with the most fey magic take on the features of the reigning Faerie Queen. Black hair, pale skin…and though you can’t tell now, both of their eyes are that haunting shade of indigo.”
“Like your sister,” said Lizinia. “Wednesday.”
Trix sheathed his dagger and used the long pink strips to bind and gag Sorrow. “One day Wednesday will be more powerful than all of them put together.” When he finished, Trix stood and looked down at the body of the woman who had caused his family so much pain. “I should kill her.”
“Trix, no,” said Lizinia.
“Why not?” asked Trix. “She’s only going to cause more trouble—if not here, then somewhere else. And my family will suffer for it every time.” His hand fell to the dagger at his belt. If he killed Sorrow, her spells would be broken. They could find the fey magic and free it without having to watch their backs. Mama and all of her sisters would wake…or they would die.
There was just one problem.
“You’re right. I can’t.” His hand slipped off the dagger and he clenched his fist. “If Saturday were here, she could do it. She killed that witch in the White Mountains to save the world. She could kill this one.”
Save us, Trix Woodcutter, the Faerie Queen chanted in his head. Save us all.
“You are not Saturday.” Lizinia took his hand so that he would stop hurting himself. “And that is okay.”
From behind them, a soft voice beckoned. “Do it.”
Bear growled, but if in surprise or warning Trix knew not. The Faerie Queen had managed only to lift her head from the floor to speak the terrible command. She blinked several times and her wan pallor took on a greenish tint.
Lizinia’s skirts of gold and tattered pink pooled as she knelt to aid her. “Slowly, your majesty.”
“Kill her before she can create any more chaos.” The Faerie Queen clung to Lizinia’s golden sleeve. The black spot there winked at Trix, reminding him of all the things he’d done wrong in his life up to this point. The Faerie Queen really should have chosen a more reliable champion. Either of his older brothers would have been far more suitable.
“I can’t.” Trix’s words dripped with pain and remorse.
“In the end, you will.” The queen’s eyes rolled back into her head and she went limp once more.
Trix balled his hands into fists as his sides. Uncle Bear moved in behind him, a good thing in case Trix’s legs refused to hold him up any more.
“Trix,” said Lizinia. “Today, right now, this is not the end.”
Vick took the opportunity to asses the situation. “The binding of the fey magic has incapacitated her. Just like your aunts.”
“Even worse than Aunt Joy,” said Lizinia. “Which makes sense, since the queen’s fey magic would be the strongest and the purest, right?”
Trix’s brow furrowed as he tried to work it all out. “Sorrow would have known that binding the fey magic would have overwhelmed the Faerie Queen, and then herself.”
Lizinia caught on. “So whatever vessel she used to contain the fey magic is in this room.”
“Too bad that vessel’s not as easy to find as this one.” The leprechaun picked up the Faerie Queen’s scepter. As he did, the light in Wisdom’s tooth flickered and went out.
“Your timing today is terrible.” Trix scowled at the tooth.
The Faerie Queen’s scepter glowed in the darkness. Undulating waves of blue and purple and deep, forest green washed over them. Trix and Lizinia stepped closer to the crystal. Uncle Bear kept his distance. The colors tinted his white fur and set his eyes flashing, shifting him from a giant beast into a strange monster of the dream realm. Trix took on a similar hue, but Lizinia’s skin turned from gold to black.
“It’s like the Dragon Lights,” said Trix.
“You mean the sky after the lightning,” agreed Lizinia, “when the ocean fled. But those colors shone bright and full of energy. This feels sick. Or poisoned.”
Mesmerized, Trix watched the thick, oily fog that was an evil king slide in and around itself beneath the crystal. “There was so much smoke when King Hargath died,” Trix marveled. “Amazing that Wednesday and Aunt Joy managed to squeeze it all into something so small.”
“Magic,” said Lizinia.
“So what do we do now?” asked Vick.
The Faerie Queen’s words weren’t bouncing around in his head anymore, but Trix’s body suddenly felt compelled beyond anything he could control. He wanted to touch the crystal. He needed to. He stretched his finger out to the scepter.
“Should you be doing that?” Lizinia stopped Trix’s hand with her own, but not before the smoke inside had shifted like a snake, or a cat, recoiling and hissing at a threat.
Lizinia leaned in and peered at the crystal. “There’s something in there.”
Vick leaned in too. “I wouldn’t touch it. You might foul up the spell.”
“Wednesday and Aunt Joy wouldn’t have gone to all that trouble to trap the king’s spirit with a spell that could be broken just by touching it,” said Trix.
Lizinia backed up a pace and pulled Trix with her. “But if anyone could break a spell by looking at it sideways, it would be a Woodcutter.”
“Go on then,” Vick goaded. “We’ll brace ourselves.”
Trix stretched his finger out to the crystal once more. The smoke writhed, black and purple, black and blue, black and green, faster and faster, as if it could somehow run from Trix’s advancing appendage. Trix touched the crystal—it felt cool, despite the dazzling light display. The smoke reared back, fleeing to the opposite side of the faceted ball.
There, in the middle of the crystal, was the true source of its light: a small, glittering star. Now free of the smoke that obscured it, it burned defiant and white, illuminating the catacombs like a tiny sun. As the light touched the Faerie Queen she woke again.
So did Sorrow. Her eyes snapped open and she gasped into her gag. She immediately thrashed against her bonds and moaned noisily.
“It’s no more than you deserve,” the Faerie Queen said to her attacker. The magic light had roused her, but her voice was still weak.
Bear began to growl. “DANGER,” Trix heard his uncle say again.
Sorrow screamed against the gag, long and hard, again and again.
“If she keeps that up, she might pass out,” said Lizinia.
“Let her,” said Vick.
Trix removed his finger from the crystal and the evil king’s smoke swallowed the star inside its oily fog. Sorrow immediately silenced and slumped back to the floor. Within moments, the Faerie Queen had done the same. Blue and purple and green danced across the walls once more.
“Sorrow trapped the fey magic here,” said Trix.
“With him,” added Lizinia.
“So his bilious soul could hide it from us,” said Vick. “But you were too clever, my boy.”
“Sorrow was clever first,” said Lizinia. “If we break the crystal and release the magic, then the evil king is released as well.”
Trix picked up the scepter. “Then we take it back to Wednesday. She helped make the spell. She’ll know what to do.”
Vick sighed and looked back down the hall. “Isn’t there some way to end this right here? I don’t relish the idea of wading through the Blood Court a third time.”
Lizinia pointed to the scepter. “Will that hold them back?”
“That magic is all they want,” said Vick. “What’s to stop them from smashing it to pieces the moment they catch wind of what’s inside?�
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“Her,” Trix gently lifted the body of the Faerie Queen. “She’s their queen. The court must obey her.”
“Or eat her,” Vick said out of the corner of his mouth. Trix resisted the urge to kick him.
“I just hope you’re right,” Lizinia said to Trix.
“I’m not always right.” Trix grinned proudly. “But it has been known to happen a time or two.”
Lizinia sliced up more of her skirt, and they used the material to secure the unconscious women onto Bear’s back. Trix’s uncle seemed dubious about the idea, but was willing to give it a try. A lucky thing too; they wouldn’t have much luck dragging the two of them up all those stairs, and no one liked the idea of leaving either of them alone in the catacombs.
When they reached the backside of the magic mirror, Trix blew out a breath— his elbow still throbbed where the black-haired man’s nails had left their mark. He stepped up to the glass and tested it. Just as it had the first time, the magic barrier allowed Trix’s finger to pass right through from this side with no silly rhyming. Hungry members of the Blood Court gathered beyond, aimlessly milling about the ballroom.
“Adventure awaits,” Trix whispered to himself before stepping through.
The Blood Court sensed them at once. Whether it was the presence of the Faerie Queen, Trix’s blood, or the scepter in his hands that drew them, it didn’t matter. Bear broke into a run as soon as they stepped through the mirror’s frame. Trix tried not to look at the sickly blue/green/purple light, undulating around them as they raced across the floor behind him.
As Vick suspected, the swirling colors seemed to renew the Blood Court’s vigor, and they attacked accordingly.
Bear snarled and bucked, sending men sprawling on either side of him. Lizinia flanked Bear, punching and kicking with all her might. Vick stood away from them, far enough that the four men and women surrounding him had a chance to overwhelm him. Trix, too, had his hands full. With his dagger in one hand and the Faerie Queen’s scepter in the other he faced three of them: two of the women that had attacked them the first time, and the black-haired courtier.
The man seemed entranced by the scepter, swaying to the right and left. Trix almost didn’t notice the other two lunge at him—it was easier to step towards the black-haired man to avoid their collision than it was to step away. The man took a swing and Trix ducked low. Too low. Before he could regain his footing the three of them had thrown their bodies on top of him.
The black-haired man batted at the scepter, wrenching it out of Trix’s grasp, but Trix was not about to let it go willingly. He thrashed against the bodies smothering his as best he could, fighting to keep his hold on the crystal-topped staff. His fingers sought purchase among the decorative vines down its length, but his palms began to sweat as he struggled. The black-haired man was finally able to wrest it from him, but Trix’s flailing body sent the scepter flying in a great arc over the floor.
“No!” Trix cried.
He might have heard Lizinia’s cry as well, but not Vick’s. Had the Blood Court overtaken the leprechaun? Trix tried to follow the scepter as it soared over the heads of the Blood Court, dragging his attackers with him. He could not afford to loose the spirit of the evil king yet. Wednesday needed to be there…was that her at the far end of the ballroom, surrounded by birds? Yes, it was Wednesday! If only she was close enough to catch the scepter…
…but she was not. The staff clattered to the floor at Wednesday’s feet.
The crystal had not broken.
Wednesday winked at Trix as she picked up the scepter and walked toward him. Trix exhaled. The black-haired man used the distraction to land a punch in Trix’s stomach. His teeth were suddenly dangerously close to Trix’s neck.
Lizinia pulled the man’s body off of Trix and tossed it in Wednesday’s direction. Wednesday spun the scepter around and used the pointed end to stab the man in the abdomen. His body collapsed to the floor this time and did not rise again.
“Trix, here!” Wednesday had brought their bows and arrows with her. Trebald and Aunt Joy and a host of other animals poured into the room. Together, the birds, rabbits, deer, and all the other people-turned-animals under the Hill overwhelmed the Blood Court and turned the tide.
Trix cut the makeshift straps that held Sorrow and the Faerie Queen onto Bear’s back and Lizinia helped distribute the pink material to everyone with opposable thumbs. “Tie them up,” he said, indicating the Blood Court, and his order was quickly followed.
Wednesday, with the scepter, stood over the bodies of Sorrow and the Faerie Queen, looking for all the world like a queen herself.
“The crystal didn’t break,” said Trix.
“It’s not meant to,” said Wednesday. “Ever.”
“Ever is a very long time,” said Lizinia.
Wednesday shrugged.
Trix looked around the room once more, scanning the occupants. The overlapping murmurs of animal-speak in his head was so overwhelming that he could make out very little of it. He still could not “hear” Uncle Bear fully…and someone else’s voice was noticeably absent from the crowd.
“Where’s Vick?” Trix asked Lizinia.
“The last I saw he’d taken on four of the Blood Court,” said Trix.
“Oh, no,” said Lizinia.
“We’ll find him,” said Wednesday. “Have heart.”
Trix hung his head. He had heart, but not much hope. Vick had saved them in the Wood. He’d snuck them under the Hill. He’d fed them their last meal. And now there was every possibility that Vick had given his life for their quest. The ultimate sacrifice. Trix had repaid the leprechaun with nothing but doubt and disdain, all because Papa’s stories said that leprechauns could not be trusted.
Trebald tugged on Trix’s pant leg with his pointed teeth. “I’ll find the scamp,” he said. “For you. Yes, yes.” With that, the brownie scurried off into the busy ballroom.
Trix forced his mind back on more pressing matters. “Sorrow trapped the Fey magic inside the scepter with Hargath. You have to find something else to trap his wicked spirit inside so we can set the Hill back to rights.”
For the first time in any history Trix could remember, Wednesday actually looked frightened. “Even if I found a way to break an unbreakable crystal, I can’t manage any of the rest without Aunt Joy.”
The aunt in question had curled up next to Bear and looked for all the world like she had fallen asleep. Trix had never seen Joy and Sorrow together in the same room before. Had Sorrow not been bound and gagged, Trix would never have been able to tell them apart. Joy, Sorrow, Wednesday, the Faerie Queen…as soon as they figured out how to release the fey magic, no room would be big enough to contain the combined power of the magic wielded by these four women.
“You can do it,” he said to Wednesday. “I believe in you. I always have.”
Wednesday swallowed and feigned an air of confidence, even if she did not feel it. “First, I need a vessel,” she said.
“Here.” Trix held out his dagger. “You said it needed to be something like this or…”
As one, they all turned to Lizinia.
“Or me.” She clasped the strap of the star-quiver with both hands. “You said that I was a vessel. Which means the evil king could come into my body and possess me, doesn’t it?”
“We would never do that to you,” Trix assured her.
“But it’s possible,” said Wednesday.
Lizinia bit her lips together. It was hard for Trix to get a sense of what she was feeling with all the animal voices in his head. He’d never been so mentally assaulted, even in the thick of the Wood. “What would happen to me then?” Lizinia asked. “The me that is me?”
“The soul that is you and the soul that is Hargath would fight for that body,” said Wednesday.
“She could fight him,” said Trix.
“She would lose,” said Wednesday. “I’m sorry, but it’s true. Hargath is too powerful.”
“No,” said Lizinia defiantly. “I
choose to stay and fight.” She turned to Trix. “Vick gave his life for this. How could I do any less?”
She lifted the rain-bow and extracted a star arrow from the quiver. “I will break the crystal with the gods’ arrow, and you”—she looked to Wednesday—“will trap that evil king’s soul in Trix’s dagger.”
“We need something to prop up the scepter,” said Trix. He removed his vest and shirt, making a pile of them some distance away from Bear and the rest of the crowd in the ballroom. Beside the pile he placed his golden dagger. Then he returned to retrieve the scepter from Wednesday.
As he passed by the Faerie Queen, her eyelids fluttered open and she mumbled something at him. He leaned in to hear her, but she slumped unconscious again. Trix looked to the bound Blood Court, decided it was safe enough, and touched the crystal with his finger. The black smoke fled to the opposite side of the crystal, and the star of fey magic alit upon the pale face of the Faerie Queen. She smiled into the light before opening her indigo eyes once more.
“You will smash that crystal, Trix Woodcutter. You will save the fey magic this day. I am proud to have chosen you as my Emissary.”
“You made me your Emissary to talk to the animals, your majesty, but I feel that I have failed you. I was only able to communicate with a few under this Hill. I couldn’t even talk to my uncle.”
The Faerie Queen’s wan smile grew wider. “That’s not why I brought you here.”
“Then why?”
“You, Trix Woodcutter, were my pawn. You set the pieces in motion and you brought us all here, to the end of my game.”
Trix didn’t mind being an Emissary, but he didn’t like the idea of being anyone’s pawn. “I’m not playing a game.”
“Of course you’re not,” said the Faerie Queen. “It is my game. In this game, I am the only one who wins.”
“Trix!” Lizinia called. “What is taking you so long? Is the queen all right?”
The queen, Trix surmised, was addle-brained from lack of magic. “Excuse me,” said Trix.
The Faerie Queen caught him by the trouser leg with a surprisingly strong hand. “You will break the crystal in that staff,” she said in a melodious voice. Trix’s eyes widened in horror. He knew that voice. It was the voice Mama Woodcutter used when she gave an order she knew would be obeyed.
Trix & the Faerie Queen Page 13
