by K. G. Wilkie
“Please let me explain,” she begged, the words teary and strained. One flick of his finger and the changes froze, far from her original proportions but no smaller. “She was just flirting with some womanizer, and they were about to kiss, so I warned her against him, and she was in shock, and you walked into her when she was still upset, so she took it out on you, but I don`t think it means she really hates you,” she gave the breathlessly explained. “?I didn’t say a thing about you, but I was trying to pull off a guy going after your most dear person so that she would continue to be free to grow to care for you the same way she once did, so please forgive me,” she ended desperately.
He frowned, and relaxed his hand. Slowly she started to regain some of her size, and she sighed in happiness. “She was flirting with another guy?” The kneeling girl nodded emphatically. “You allowed him to get close to her, which is a great transgression,” he boomed.
“No, no, I was just trying to let her move among the crowd and make friends as you requested, I didn`t know he would be dumb enough to poach on what you had already clearly marked as your territory,” she quickly responded.
“I will send someone to deal with this boy,” he spoke calmly. Good humor restored, he continued, “One more slipup would have led to…terrible things, but I`m glad to hear you`re doing your work properly now,” he smiled.
A woman decked out in gold trim and blue velvet knocked on the door, and after being ignored during the prince’s conversation gave a polite cough to signal her entrance. A man came in behind her, bearing the same fiery red hair. They both scanned their eyes around the room, zeroing in on Jackie`s presence. She saw them as well, and promptly turned her nose up at them. Aeron sighed, head in his beefy hands, and finally snapped his fingers. All in the room instantly turned their attention on him, effectively ending the little contretemps, and both the prince and Jackie instantly snapped back into the size and appearance they’d had before they came. “Your message?” rather than icy, his voice was genuinely warm, and Jackie standing next to him jumped in surprise. Bearing her no notice, he continued, “You won`t be able to get back to your little bonfires if you can`t give me the papers.”
The woman walked up, handing the papers to him with a smile. “Oh, you know it`s not just little bonfires. You like to play burn the village as well, don`t you?” She grinned at him. He chuckled back, speedily shuffling through and scanning the papers.
Noticing Jackie staring after Aeron in shock, the male twin laughed. “You never knew? We creatures of fire like to stick together, and Aeron makes the most beautiful flames with our toy village.” Both twins giggled at this, now twining round and around Jackie. Glancing over, she noticed he was completely absorbed in his reading, though she doubted he would have helped her anyways. Both twins grabbed a hand each of hers, flames twisting like cobras around her wrists. The skin there burned, and the smell of a woodfire filled the room. “Ah, so we did find a nymph!,” the daemons crowed. “What fun,” the boy added.
“Hawthorne. Rowena. I assume you`ve looked through the letter?” Aeron asked, voice brooking no argument.
“Well,” answered Hawthorne. “Perhaps part of it,” Rowena chipped in.
“Good. That means you understand what is going on. Put together the basic search team,” he said, “and make sure you get the good ones.” He thought for a moment, tapping his chin, then hastily added, “If there are any burned contractors or nymphs, it will have to be the usual punishment.” Both twins doused their fire and Jackie clutched at her smoking hand.
Hawthorne blanched. “Toys for the harpies,” he gasped. Rowena seemed less shaken. “What if the daemons involved are female? I haven`t heard of any male harpies, or lesbian ones for that matter.”
“If you are aiming for some type of punishment, then perhaps I`m not stern enough with you,” Aeron had now lost his smile. “I think the best solution, in your case, would be to pair you up with a centaur. I hear they are always eager to add some bipeds to the herds, and there is a popular underground of slave auctions of other species. Adds some strong new genetics to balance out the birthrate. ”
All in the hall were silent, shocked by the severity of the threat.
“I won’t resort to such an extreme punishment, of course, if my people retrain themselves from killing any of the defenseless ones,” he continued. “I suppose I won`t get angry if you do your job and happen to burn a few nonessentials, but none of those directly under the command of my parents of myself should be harmed” he continued. The twins grinned, high fiving each other. They skipped out of the room to gather the search party, casting one regretful look at Jackie before they left. She stuck their tongue out at their backs, pouting once the steps became faint and distant.
Standing up, Aeron picked up a letter from his desk and threw it at Jackie, though it flew to her and landed with a solid thump in her hand that was more a sign of his feelings than any great weight to the stationary. “Read it, now. She unfolded the thick parchment, a blue crow seal decorating the page. She gulped. The blue crow stood for the espionage unit that represented those most fervently loyal to Aeron, determined to crush all those who opposed the prince they supported as the rightful future heir. Trembling, she read the missive.
Priscilla the Nyad, common name Nymph. Disturbance in the area noted at 16:00. Presumed kidnapping at 20:00. Considered missing from the Nymph village for two weeks, cannot be traced in nearby villages. Nearby streams do not report any sightings. Tracing spells have determined victim can be found in a magic neutralizing zone. The victim appears to have not received the notice [concerning her sister`s replacement roles.] Supposed that kidnapping is due to fear over the role she has been removed from. Some chance that disappearance is involuntary, caused by perpetrators of the civic disturbance. If your royal highness wishes, a search party will be sent immediately to retrieve the subject.
Signed,
Alabastor Fyojhan
General of Blue Crows
“Oh,” Jackie said in a small voice. “She always was a wanderer. I guess she just wandered into dangerous territory. Her voice was wobbling, and she clung unto a gilt chair standing at her elbow. “At least I know she might be alive if she was running through the Eventide Woods region. Since you instituted the slave trade punishment system, somehow you`ve gotten at least the werewolves and vampires to restraint themselves, even if the minor shifter factions still do whatever the hell they like.” She sniffed. “Cilly will probably be fine,” she wailed.
He agreed, looking at her pale face. Her surveyed her appearance, correctly judging her pasty face to be shock induced. He stood abruptly, a tiny ball of red fire springing from his hand. It lengthened rapidly until it reached the ceiling, a flaming bellpull. Servants came into the room quickly, and were sent out with directions to take her to the infirmary.
She came to herself, noticing the white linens and steel frame beds surrounding her. A cluster of concerned gowned men and women cocooned her in extra blankets and forced hot chocolate upon her. “She`s not doing anything,” a young man with a yellow trainee badge on his white uniform murmured. “Maybe she`s mentally infirm?”
“You dummy,” exclaimed a woman with gauzy fairy wings. “That`s called shock.” Another man with the gold trim of a senior nurse thumped the trainee on the head. Jackie ignored all of the commotion, sipping her cocoa and thinking her thoughts.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Allies and Enemies
One of the women silently started tugging at the patient`s hand, her nose and lofty rabbit ears twitching in nervousness. “He wants to see her, he wants to see her,” she announced to the group in a quavering voice. Jackie protested, complaining that she had already seen enough of Aeron`s face to last her a lifetime. In his own domain his demands came first, however, so she was dragged into an elegant room and the door was silently closed behind her.
A lilting voice wafted out from the corner. “Jacqueline, my dear friend,” he said. He was five foot four, with lean compact muscl
e and intelligent almond eyes shaded by ruffled raven hair.
She jumped in surprise. “What are you doing here? You should remember that I don’t work for you, Richard.”
He ignored her and asked, “What do you think of my latest experiment,” he asked, raising his arms and twirling in a circle.
She gave him the once over, scrunching up her nose. “You always look very put together,” she said, “But aren`t rings and earrings a little bit of overkill?” She pointed at them, one and two rings on every finger and large skull button gauges in his ears. He only laughed at her distaste.
“All the kids were doing it the last time I visited Tokyo though,” he laughed. “Even the guys were wearing skulls with their bleached hair. You think my hairdo would be better lighter as well,” he teased.
“You look ridiculous. You must have gone to one of the weird underground clubs to think this was the style. I’ll have you know most of my countrymen are very respectable looking, even the young ones. You just look one of those sad Westerners trying to hard to look cool,” Jackie giggled.
“Aw, don`t give me that,” he spoke in a simple farm boy accent. She giggled some more. “You should research your own style too, you know,” he continued in a facsimile of a Venice Beach accent.
“Nope,” she flipped her hair. “Someone has to have their heads screwed on straight around here,” she said, “and that someone can only be me. I`m imminently normal, you know,” she continued, flippantly grinning up at him. “I dabble in some sports, dabble with some guys,and dabble with some fashion. I’m an expert at dabbling, and that makes me the epitome of normal. It’s so old fashioned and dreary to get so serious about something so unimportant, your age is showing.”
“Like the one time, when someone questioned if you were a tree hugger or not, you went up to another contractor`s tree and hugged him despite being contracted to a lake?” He asked, mentioning the lifetime contract to protect and empower each other that all nymphs enter into at their coming of age ceremony. Those who contract with a tree or plant are considered nyads, and those who contract with a body of water are called dryads. The nymph`s power is based on the power and type of contractee they pair up with, and the contract relationship last for life. In return for these powers, of course, the nymphs in question promise to protect their contractee from any harm.
“It doesn’t count as a betrayal to be friendly to my sister’s contractee,” she protested with a smile.
“Or that other time you were so excited at a party, you kept talking and accidentally spit your gum out at the person you were talking to!” Jackie blushed, but she was giggling too. “But my favorite,” he continued, “was the time where you trying to grow some brambles on this guy who was bothering Priscilla, and you ended up growing a watermelon vine instead!”
They both looked at each other with blank faces for a moment. Then they both broke out into hysterical gales of laughter. A minute, then two. Jackie was gasping on the floor with hysterics while her friend looked on in alarm. “Well, I guess I haven`t really let loose like this in awhile either,” he said, alarmed, “but aren`t you taking this a little too far?”
She instantly ran to him, crying, clinging onto him while the tears fell down. “You have no idea how awful today has been,” she sobbed. “I’m being freaking blackmailed, and I`m lying to a friend,” she said. “I feel like crap, complete and total crap. I’m not good at lying to people, and I hate feeling like I’m someone else’s go-fer.” She hiccupped. “And Priscilla`s been attacked, maybe even kidnapped!,” she wailed. “Help me,” she cried, a heart rending plea with starry eyes.
He stroked her back in small soothing circles. Slowly her sobs quieted, and at last there was only some sniffs and gulps. Then silence. He dug around in his blazer pocket, finally bring out a handkerchief. “Blow,” he ordered. She obeyed meekly. He set her back and raised her chin. “Now, you stop fussing. The Jackie I know is a strong girl, and you need to buck up.” He wagged his finger at her, ignoring her watery state. “And don’t worry, I`d go and look for her, even if you didn`t ask,” he said in a soothing coo. “Just say the magic word,” he teased.
She looked at him for a second, eyes wide and speechless. “But,” she said, “I don`t know any magic words! I can make plants grow and charm fruit, but you know dryads can`t do any arcane magic! You bully,” she ended on a dangerously high note, threatening to resume the hysterics.
Sensing danger, he grabbed her close for a short bear hug this time. “Hush, hush,” he soothed. “It was a joke.” Looking rather sheepish he added, “You know, the magic word ‘please.” I thought it might cheer you up,” he admitted.
“You two are so similar, it`s clear you`re brothers,” she muttered resentfully. “He sends off those nasty daemons to look for her, and you make threats to try and cheer me up,” she accused.
“Well, I`m not sure that was really a threat,” he hedged. “Besides, you don`t have to pin your hopes on those flame heads.” She looked up with hope in her eyes. “You can set out to look for her yourself, and if you might manage to find her more quickly than the official search crew. I`m sure they`ll be wildly disorganized, and if they`ve got that tracker of theirs coming along there will be a lot of fighting as well.”?
“Oh, do the other daemons dislike werewolves?” Jackie queried.
“Eh,” he asked, a little surprised by the idea. “Not at all. Everyone just hates Blutnase. He`ll kill people at the drop of a pin, and he`s incredibly obnoxious to spend any amount of time with. He`s always bragging about his prowess, its awful.” Jackie`s hand suddenly constricted tightly around Richard`s. Surprised, he looked down. Seeing her expression of terror, he quickly backtracked, added that the man loved small animals and kept a rabbit sanctuary on his property, (a story Richard assumed was a lie, but he was too smart to mention that small detail. “Sometimes,” he reasoned mentally, “It was far more important to have comfort than to worry about accuracy.”)
“But for your rescue mission,” he hastily sidetracked the conversation, “I`d be happy to provide you with some supplies, and even helpers if you`d like them.” She hung on his arm now, desperately clinging to his plan. “But,” he added, “You`ll need to do a favor for me later.” Her heart plummeted, and he added, “I just want you to return to Earth for a bit.”?
“Cilly would never go there,” she protested. “She`s terrified of humans, and most other magical beings for that matter. Heck, she`s even scared of the nymph guard!” The nymph guard, the units of mostly male nymph warriors that protected the nymph forest, and therefore the nymph`s contractees, from any possibly injuries or the evils of woodcutters. “She must have started off in the encampment. If I go there, I`m sure I`d find her perfectly fine, and, and…,” she continued confusedly. He slowly shook his head in denial. “But I`m sure,” she began again, stopping as he rested his hand gently on her shoulder.
“If I did things that way,” he said mournfully, “How would it benefit me?”? She looked at him aghast.
“I thought you wanted to help me because you care,” she said, voice cracking on the final word. “I thought you were our friend,” she emphasized. Her voice wavered with hurt feelings and the beginnings of broken dreams.
“Ah, buck up,” he cheered, slapping a hand on her back in a friendly gesture, his palm oddly warm and weighty. “I just want you to mess with Aeron the tinsiest bit,” he grinned. “You don`t like him either, especially with those difficult circumstances, correct?” She looked at him, her disappointment painfully obvious.
“Just make sure you disclose all the pertinent information to your friend Alyss, kay?” He asked with devastating debonair good charm.
She pulled some stray strands of hair behind her ear, its true mixture of chestnut and green colors showing through her now abandoned glamour. Her brow wrinkled in worry. “Why do you,” she asked hesitatingly, “Hate him?” She looked at him carefully, encouraged when she saw his bland expression. “I mean, I don`t think you two should go all twin
sie on me and get super buddy buddy, but I would think you`d at least like each other.” She stopped, tapping her chin in thought. “I mean, you even used to follow him around like a lost puppy, if my memory’s correct, so I thought you must have looked up to him at some point. He is your brother, after all.” She stubbornly ignored the granite cast of his features during her speech.
“Let`s just say he has something of mine,” he icily bit out. She looked up again, and shivered at the now decidedly un-neutral expression he now had. “My inheritance, my territory, my allies.” He paused. “Everything of mine, really,” he laughed bitterly. “This is a war, make no mistake, and there isn’t room for fluffy feelings and brotherly concern when my life and future are on the line. Any more questions?” She shook her head slowly, transfixed by his deadly tone. He sighed and fluttered his fingers, that all too familiar black and white fire enveloping her. Just as quickly, she was gone, with only the scent of cinnamon and pine and brackish water remained of her presence. He breathed in deeply with a dreamy look on his face, and then quickly waved his hand to dissipate the scent.
Turning his back, he strode down the hall. His face was cold, calculating. The staff quickly scurried away to avoid notice. It was said in the palace that irritating the crown prince would earn you a glare, while irritating his brother would earn you death. Few had ever put the theory to test, and it seemed as if no one was willing to risk proving it as he stormed through.
