“I thought as much,” said the Faerie Queen. “And so I will ask something of you instead. It seems that my Spriggans have passed on, and the gate to my Hill finds itself in need of a new guardian. I was wondering if you might oblige? It would require speaking to everyone who passes beneath you, judging them, and notifying me if they are found wanting.” The queen folded her hands together. “It is a permanent post, so I’m afraid it would also require you to live far longer than you had previously expected.”
Falada snorted. “I’ve already lived far longer than previously expected. What’s a few centuries more? Thank you, my queen.”
“Thank you, my guardian.” The Faerie Queen leaned in and kissed Falada on the forehead. “Now for you, Trix Woodcutter.”
Trix swallowed. He’d been on the verge of jumping out of his skin with anticipation of what his gift might be. Now that it was his turn, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Staring into the queen’s depthless indigo eyes made him want to break down and cry. He could not quash the feeling that he had disappointed her somehow, betraying them all by falling into Sorrow’s trap and enabling more chaos. There was a time when Trix took pride in his chaos. Losing that was such a shame.
Losing Lizinia was harder.
Perhaps he would be given a choice of gifts? If so, he would ask how to find Lizinia. And what was the fastest way there. And how to defeat the leprechaun. He could weave all that into one wish, he felt sure. Trix brightened at the prospect.
Unexpectedly, Aunt Joy stepped up to stand beside the queen. “My dear Trix. My nephew. My godson, though you never received a nameday gift and never once bemoaned the lack of it. You thrived, despite my shortcomings, and I am so proud of you.”
“Shortcomings?” It was odd to think that one of the most powerful women he knew could still fail at something.
“The gift you deserved was not within my power to give.” Aunt Joy smiled at the expression of incredulity he could not hide. “Even I have limits, my boy. But I have discussed it with Corinna, and she has agreed to join her magic with mine so that you might finally have it.”
Trix wasn’t sure what to say. It wasn’t what he would have asked for, but he certainly wasn’t going to turn it down, whatever it was. He might have been a rascal, but he was a clever boy for all that.
As it turned out, he didn’t need to say anything anyway. Joy and the Faerie Queen clasped hands. The Faerie Queen closed her eyes. There was a deep blue glow between their fingers. The crystals in the walls dimmed and the air smelled like lightning. His aunt reached her free hand up to brush the hair out of his face and, just as the queen had done with Falada, Joy kissed Trix on the forehead.
Trix felt a prickling in the skin all over his body, but that might have been from sweat. The anticipated lightning did not crack into thunder. There was no crash, no boom, no sparkle…nothing. The room brightened as the women separated, but that was all.
Aunt Joy took a step back. “There.”
There what? Trix felt nothing. He looked at his hands. They hadn’t changed, nor was there anything in them. A thought occurred to him, and he turned to the rest of the champions.
“Do I have a star on my forehead?” Lizinia possessed such a magical star, and Wolf had acquired one by magical means. But the champions squinted at him and shook their heads. Even Falada.
Trix scowled. Aunt Joy chuckled and cupped his cheek with her cool fingers. “Don’t worry, my Wild Child. It will manifest when you need it.”
Her statement didn’t do much to improve his mood. There was a list of things he could think of that he needed to manifest themselves now, and “ethereal nameday gift” wasn’t among them. But Mama had taught him to be gracious in times like this, no matter what the circumstance, so he bowed to his aunt and the queen. “Thank you.”
“For my part, I relieve you of the title of my Emissary,” said the Faerie Queen, “as it was falsely given. Though I hope you would retain the title of Champion.”
It was difficult for Trix not to feel some pride at this. “I will, your majesty.”
The buzzing, singing, humming, whistling cheers that followed were beautifully deafening. It was followed by more singing, and dancing, and greetings. The Queen’s Champions took the opportunity to embrace each other and bid a few farewells.
“Where will you go?” Trix asked Saturday.
“Back to Arilland,” said his warrior sister. “It’s past time I went home and made peace with Papa and Peter, and I want Rumbold to consider me for the King’s Guard.”
“She’s still punishing herself for creating that ocean,” said Peregrine.
“For Saturday, joining the King’s Guard isn’t exactly punishment,” said Trix.
Saturday punched him in the shoulder, like old times. “Arilland may need an army before all this Sorrow business is said and done. But mostly, I want to take Peregrine and Betwixt to the towerhouse. I want to show them our home.”
“I am envious,” said Trix. But as much as his sick heart longed for Arilland, he would not be at ease until he knew Lizinia was safe.
“We will be sure to pass along news of your good health,” Peregrine said as he hugged Trix.
“And your continued existence,” said Saturday. “So what do you think it is that Joy gave you?”
Trix shrugged. “I honestly have no idea.”
“Well, whatever it ends up being, I just wish I could see your face when you figure it out.” Saturday embraced him with vigor. Betwixt hopped beside him. Trix, careful of the majestic antlers, patted the chimera on the head.
The fete continued for some time. There was another impromptu ceremony as Falada’s head was fixed to the archway of the entrance to the Faerie Hill. Trix lingered at the edge of the crowd while the Faerie Queen gave another speech, glancing over his shoulder at the Wood from time to time with a painful longing. He wanted to leave in the worst way, but he had not yet concocted a plan for escape. Even if he had, he still had no idea where to go from there.
“Once upon a time and time
A weary traveler sought a rhyme.”
Trix recognized the light airy voice emanating from the trees beyond, and he broke away from the crowd to find Wednesday. Wednesday had a tendency to get lost in the Wood. Now that her mind was magic-drenched once again, Trix figured it wasn’t safe to let her wander far.
But Wednesday hadn’t wandered far. She was waiting for him in the berry bushes with his traveling sack, the two magic bows, and the two quivers of arrows: everything he needed to escape. Well, almost everything.
Trix pulled his distracted sister into his arms and tried not to crush her in his embrace. “I don’t know if you can hear me in there, Wednesday, but I will never forget what you did. I have always thought you were wonderful and amazing, and no one will ever convince me otherwise. I hope that someday you are able to find peace again.” He kissed her on the cheek. “I would offer to look for it, but I’m afraid I’m not good at that. I don’t even know where to find Lizinia.”
Wednesday took Trix’s hands in hers and squeezed them tightly.
“My Papa’s many stories told
Of leprechauns and pots of gold
And wings that lift and sand that shifts
And brave young fools who use their gifts.”
For a moment Trix wished he was going home again with Saturday, to sit at Papa’s knee by the fire and hear his tales of fantastical beasts and magical places and things that might have happened or not, in a time before time.
Wednesday squeezed his hands again, almost painfully this time. Had she been trying to tell him something? He tried to remember her pretty words. She had mentioned wings—might he catch a glimpse of the dragon Saturday woke?—but she’d mentioned Papa first. Papa had indeed told them many stories about leprechauns. It was a leprechaun who had originally given Papa the three fairy stones—Wednesday had turned the pink stone into a dress for Lizinia. But they hadn’t been stones to begin with, they had been gold coins. Fool’s gold, not tha
t Papa had known at the time. Leprechauns loved playing tricks almost as much as they loved their gold.
Gold. Like Lizinia.
Gold.
And where could one always expect to find gold?
At the end of a rainbow.
Wednesday released Trix’s hands and clapped delightedly, as if she could see the thought taking shape inside his head. With hope in his heart once more, Trix pulled Lizinia’s bow off his shoulder and extracted one of her star arrows from the quiver. He quickly nocked the arrow, and then shot it high into the sky.
Wednesday yanked Trix’s golden dagger from its sheath and held it above her head. Within moments, one end of a brilliant rainbow slammed down around her. The other end stretched off into the distance…incredibly far off. But at the other end of that rainbow, Trix knew, was Lizinia.
Finally, he had a direction.
Wednesday, smiling, held the golden dagger out to him. In a small, excited voice she said, “Adventure awaits.”
* * *
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Acknowledgments
The bulk of Trix and the Faerie Queen was written in November of 2015, for National Novel Writing Month. The goal of NaNoWriMo is to write 50,000 words in one month. I try to hit that goal every year, and every year I fail. This year was no different (I hit about 38,000, which is still pretty darn good!). So I must first thank everyone who participated in NaNoWriMo 2015, especially Monica Valentinelli and my dear friends the Waterworld Mermaids, who kept me sprinting to keep up my word count! (You guys are all going to join me in 2016, right?)
Beyond that, I want to thank fellow author and star-twin Lisa Mantchev, who stuck by my side through the month of January, helping me through the madness of my infamous Danny Ocean Moment and encouraging me to get down those last two chapters…that ended up becoming four.
Huge thanks to Nessa Kreyling for helping me do the business of being an author, so I could concentrate on the actual writing. (Looking forward to much more of this!)
Huge hugs and another cup of Townhouse coffee to Bianca Roman-Stumpff and Justine Birmingham, for forcing me out of my shell from time to time and reminding me that a life without art is a sad life indeed.
Thanks to Allie, Lexie, Kate, Tempest, Byron, and Matt, my partners in crime at Disney World. Getting a season pass is on my to-do list, because a princess should not have a backyard like that if she doesn’t intend to make mischief once in a while!
I must also thank my crack publishing team, who banded together to create this amazing bit of magic. My editor-star Casey Cothran, my copyeditor-star Kat Tipton, my cover-star Rachel Marks (isn’t it gorgeous?), my layout-star Jason Anderson (who humors me with my drop-caps because they are so pretty), my narrator-star Alastair Cameron, and a special shout-out to princess-star Thea Muldrew, who did not have to mainline the entire Books of Arilland series just to give her thoughts about a book summary, but did so anyway (I wish I could write as fast as she reads!).
Forever and always, thank you to my infamous Brute Squad, who kept my spirits up through thick and thin, and won me an award to boot. What other author’s street team has done that, I ask you? We are getting that picture at Dragon Con this year. Don’t let me forget!
And last but not least, Mom and Dad—Marcy and George Kontis—the original Mama and Papa Woodcutter. Trix would not be the optimistic adventurer he is without you. Nor would I.
—Sneak Peek—
THE TRUTH ABOUT CATS & WOLVES
Chapter 1
“Are you sure this was the best choice?”
“Does it matter? At least I was given a choice. The only wrong decision would have been not making one.” Kai Xanthopoulos stopped what she was doing and froze. Took a deep breath. She had to knead the dough gently for it to come out right, not pummel it into oblivion.
Thanks to Owen’s insistence on discussing this topic again, she really, really wanted to pummel it into oblivion.
Kai dusted her palms with flour and patiently rolled the dough out into a long, snakey tube. “When the children in my family turn sixteen, they are allowed to get a job that has nothing to do with the restaurant business. I chose Delaney’s Delectables. End of story.”
“And when they’re thirteen, children in your family also usually know what their powers are.”
Another topic Kai loathed: her complete failure when it came to magic…beyond being able to have this conversation with Owen, that is. For a while, she suspected that Owen might be her familiar and that her powers would turn out to be witch-like in nature. But said powers—whatever their nature—still remained dormant.
“So what?” said Kai.
“So…I’m just saying, you might need a bit of guidance,” said the cat. “I’m a fabulous guidance counselor.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Kai said dubiously. The only guidance Owen ever gave included suggestions that inevitably made his life better. “I’m a late bloomer. It’s happened before. What, you think if I turn out to be a naiad or a marsh witch I’ll ruin the candy? Or I’ll lose it completely and start making a house out of gingerbread?”
“I’m being serious, Kai. If you had stayed at the diner, you could have been a manager. Here you’re just a…”
“Cook? Servant? Dogsbody?” Kai punctuated the last word with a grin. If Owen was going to push all her buttons today, she was going to push right back.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Owen make a face. “Essentially. Your yiayia’s a baker, Kai. Not you. You don’t even like sweets.”
Her melted butter had separated, so she used the paintbrush to stir it up a bit. “Doesn’t mean I’m not awesome at making them. And I do like sweets. I like chocolate.”
Owen sighed. “Everybody likes chocolate. Normal chocolate. You only like that dark, bitter stuff. With acorns in it.”
One laugh burst out of Kai but she held the rest back. Owen always made her laugh when they were arguing; undoubtedly why she indulged him with these ridiculous discussions. “They’re called hazelnuts, moron. Food of the gods.”
Owen made a noise like a game show buzzer and hopped up on the counter to watch her work. “Wrong. Anchovies. Those are the food of the gods.”
“Riiiiight. If I was a naiad, maybe. Or a cat.” Kai painted the butter onto the dough-snake with one hand. She used the other hand to liberally sprinkle it with a mix of cinnamon and sugar. The actions helped her mind focus beyond the verbal sparring, on the message Owen was actually trying to convey to her.
“Oh. Mygosh.” Kai lifted the buttery brush and pointed it at Owen. “J’accuse.”
Owen’s pale green eyes shifted away from her level gaze. He was suddenly very interested in everything in the sweet shop that wasn’t her. Kai suspected that if the cat had been able to whistle innocently, this was the moment he would have done it. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“This has nothing to do with me! If I’m not at the diner looking out for you, then the quality of your dumpster diving is severely diminished.”
“I’m a carnivore, Kai. The best you can offer me here is a fallen cake.”
Exasperated, Kai tossed the brush back into the butter and began twisting the cinnamon dough-snake in, out, and around itself. “No one’s forcing you to be here, Owen.”
“But, Kai, my darling…” His tone of voice had completely shifted. Now he was going to try and warm up to her? No way.
“Enough. I have work to do. Out.” Owen didn’t budge. Kai snapped her fingers. “You shouldn’t even be in here. And you definitely shouldn’t be on the counter. Are you trying to get me fired?” She snapped her fingers again and pointed at the door. “Out!”
In his own time, Owen yawned and lazily leapt off the counter, as if leaving were something he’d meant to do all along. He sauntered toward the front door, just in time for a woman to open it for him. The bells tinkled like a fairy’s laugh. “We’re no
t finished, Kalliope,” he said as he walked away.
“We’re finished for today!” Kai yelled after him, and then realized how ridiculous she sounded. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath to calm herself. When she opened them up again, she was face to face with Verity Mercer.
“I have lots of friends who talk to their cats, but…girl, you take the cake.” She waved her hand to indicate the refrigerated case full of beautifully decorated cakes beside them. “So to speak.”
“Oh, wow.” Kai felt her face flush. She’d always been a terrible blusher, but the embarrassment of being caught in mid-debate with a cat—by a human, no less—set her cheeks burning. “I am so sorry, Ms. Mercer. It will never happen again, I promise.”
Verity Mercer was one of Roxy St. James’s writers-in-residence. Roxy, a bestselling novelist herself, had fixed up her guest house for the express purpose of inviting her friends to Nocturne Falls for writing retreats. Roxy also happened to be the shop owner’s best friend, Mrs. Delaney Ellingham Herself.
Ms. Mercer must have recognized Kai’s obvious distress, because she moved to the pitcher on the counter and poured Kai a cup of water. “Now, sweetie. Don’t fret. Delaney will never know your cat was in here…well, not from me, anyway. And please, call me Verity.”
“Yes, Miss Verity. Thank you.” She gulped the water down, hoping it would go straight to her flaming cheeks. With her face like this and her unruly brown curls constantly trying to escape from her bun, she must look like a harpy. Not exactly the “delectable” appearance Delaney Ellingham would have wanted of her hired help. Kai had such a short fuse lately…it seemed like everything was setting her off. Especially Owen. “He’s not my cat anyway. He doesn’t belong to anyone, least of all me. He’s just a stray that hangs around the diner.”
“Really?” Verity raised an eyebrow. “Could have fooled me.”
“My parents aren’t into pets,” said Kai.
“Well, I must say, for a stray, that is one well-groomed pixie cat.”
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