Trickster Noir (Pixie for Hire Book 2)

by Cedar Sanderson

  Beaker nodded. Then he licked Bella’s face and lay his head back down, eyes closed again.

  “Is he sleeping?” She asked, bubbling us.

  I leaned into the spell, adding direction and power to her, knowing this was a long run. “I don’t know. I’d guess yes, and likely a lot of his time is spent sleeping. If he were a more active creature, he’d have been seen in the last century or so.”

  She yawned. “I didn’t sleep well, sorry.”

  I took her hand. “Neither of us will until they’re safe.”

  We traveled the rest of the way in silence. My friend’s orchard was on the edges of the East and West, where in the land above, wars had raged back and forth for centuries. Underhill, it had once been a thriving land, perhaps the most heavily populated centre in all of our hidden world. As humanity throve, the numbers fell, and now, only a few hung on to the old ways and places. There were other reasons, but David was one of the few I’d trust, here and now.

  He was strange beyond understanding, and I wasn’t sure how Bella would take him. That would depend on what form he chose, too. He was very much not-human. Only his name, chosen for its meaning, made him understandable. Beloved... His real name was an unknown. I wasn’t even sure he remembered it, any longer.

  David was old, older than Alger, I had decided. I’d broached it to him, once. He’d blinked, first one set of eyelids, and then the outer ones.

  “I suppose...” He had looked off into the distance, balancing on his toe-tips and rocking back and forth. “Yes, I could be old.”

  We arrived in the orchard mid-morning, having raced the sun across a quarter of the globe. Bella gasped as the bubble dropped away and revealed the trees around us. I stood still and let her look. Underhill, as I have mentioned before, is pliable. David had twisted time, and kept his trees in a rotation of the four seasons at once. I used a variant on his spells to keep my own home with a window opening onto summer at all times.

  Right now, my bride was holding up her hands to catch snowy white petals as the apple blossoms above her shook in the breeze, a look of rapture on her face. She turned to look at me, jeans, worn t-shirt, and bridal veil of white caught in her hair. I shook myself. David, the poet, tended to influence me when I was here.

  “It’s so beautiful, Lom.”

  I bit my tongue. “Yeah.” I was not going to start in on his blather, and it made me sound curt as I responded. “Why don’t you check on the kids?” I left her looking at me with a slightly puzzled look and walked toward the center of the orchard. I couldn’t have explained that I was getting all flowery and hated the memories this place brought on, without more time than we had. I was about to try and wake David up.

  He was a night-dweller, which was why the message said sun-down. I needed to tell him how urgent it was, and that meant waking him. And risking him deciding to dismiss us out of hand. I only had one chance.

  I stopped at the foot of the silver tree and looked upward. It was towering, which shouldn’t have been a surprise, I hadn’t visited him in decades. But that a tree which looked as though it were made of metal grew at all seemed odd, even for Underhill. David’s orchard, I was convinced, had a lot to do with the twelve dancing princess tales. Luring young women Underhill definitely seemed like David. I threw one of the apples I had picked up. The leaves chimed like bells as it arced through them.

  The glimmer of gold shifted, then stilled again. I threw another apple. Not at him, that would be rude. No, just ringing the bells. He opened an eye and squinted in the light. Then he looked down at me.

  “Fare thee well.” I greeted him politely. He stared silently at me, then ruffled his feathers.

  “My errand is passing urgent. It concerns a witch, who has stolen that which is precious to me.” I went on, following rules that had been laid out in song and story before I was born. Ask nicely, take care of the old woman, don’t kick the starving wolf, and they will return a favor.

  David yawned. He lifted a taloned toe to scratch at his crest. I chuckled. He was awake enough to recognize me, and abandon his regal aloofness.

  “The witch?” he finally asked, slowly.

  We’d tried coffee, one morning, when he was in human form. He’d shuddered, walked out past the edge of the orchard with me wandering behind him in amusement, and dumped the cup out with great formality. Tea, and only tea, would pass his lips.

  “Baba Yaga, using her construct, the hut with chicken legs, has caught two young people who were in my care,” Chong wasn’t really, but his uncle had given me the burden of returning him safe. “For what purpose, I know not.”

  The great bird head was ill suited to showing emotion, but I thought he was upset. “I have slept... long.”

  That stopped me. “Longer than a night, my friend?”

  “Yes.” He stretched out his wings, stiffly hopping to another branch. The tree rang joyously.

  “Perhaps... an age. My demesnes are much reduced. Our world is tilting toward oblivion, Learoyd.”

  I winced. He refused to use my nickname, ever. And I wasn’t sure what he was talking about.

  “David, you know I wouldn’t come to you unless it was passing the bounds of my capacity.”

  Now he did look sad. “I know. You blame me.”

  I sighed. “No, I don’t blame you. That was all my own doing, and I ought to have come back for at least a visit.”

  He came down to me, then, wings outstretched like a parasail to slow his descent. “How can I help you?”

  “I need to find her lair, and intercept the hut before the kidnapped children come to harm.”

  “Children,” he got that distant look again. His feathers rustled as he walked beside me, his head on a level with mine, his tail, grown longer than I had ever seen it before, trailing behind us in a river of golden-red feathers. There are reasons the Firebirds were sought by kings and dreamers. David was beautiful, and in an age past, one of his feathers would have bought a knight’s ransom.

  He stopped, abruptly. Raising his head high, the crest of feathers on his crown erect, he took a deep breath, then another, his mouth half-opened.

  “There is a dragon in my orchard!” He shrieked, leaping into the air with a flapping of wings. “Learoyd, your sword and steed! Ride, we must slay it!”

  Dragon Slayer

  He was above the treetops, and I felt armor settle onto my body, a magical spell wrapping me in leather and steel between one breath and the next. I put a hand to my side and felt the sword hilt, then saw the great black horse gallop into sight, his tail high, nostrils flared.

  “Oh, damn...” I really didn’t want to try and get on that stallion and ride out to kill the confused, simple Beaker. David wasn’t giving me a choice, as I felt the armor vault me into the saddle. At least it was one of the sort with a high cantle and even higher back. I might not fall off. The warhorse bunched under me, and I kicked him, warning him not to think about bucking me off. He snorted, and I gathered the reins in my left hand. As soon as he felt that, he was off, racing between trees. David, golden plumage flashing in the sun, the crimson feathers of his under-wing looking like fire, circled overhead.

  He stooped, like a falling star, and with a sinking heart I knew what I would see when the horse carried me to the place David was going. That was where I had left Bella, and Beaker, the great lunk, had no doubt found her there.

  When we charged into the clearing, my noble steed ignoring my commands and going into a full-up pesade, I was pissed. I tried really hard not to fall off, grabbing anything in front of me as he reared up. Who the hell came up with that move? It seemed like a perfect way to get your horse stuck in the belly with some peasant’s spear. He sank back down and I got a look at what was going on.

  David was standing on the ground, staring at Bella, who had evidently jumped up from her scrying, as I could see the little silvery pan still full of liquid in front of her. His wings were half-outstretched, and his tail fanned out on the grass behind him. He looked magnificent.
Bella just looked pissed. Beaker was nowhere in sight. My noble steed stamped restlessly and jerked on the bit.

  I reined him around and let him sidle closer to the two on the ground. If I tried to dismount with the weight of the armor on me, it would be a mess. Now I could hear what they were saying, as they ignored me completely.

  “I am not, obviously, a dragon!” Bella snapped at David. “I was conducting a very delicate spell, and now...” She saw me, finally, and her eyes widened. “What the hell?”

  I realized my helm was closed, she had no way of knowing who it was. I raised it, revealing my face. Her eyes widened. “Lom?”

  “You know him?” David looked back and forth between us.

  “She’s my wife.” I gritted out at him. “And what the hell, indeed, David? A dragon?”

  “She’s a dragon!” he insisted, thrusting his beak in her direction. Fortunately he wasn’t close enough to touch her, or I would have had to use the sword on that long slender neck of his.

  “She’s a fairy.” Bella inserted dryly.

  “I can smell you, and you are a dragon.” He bristled, his feathers out so far he was twice his usual size.

  “My grandfather is a dragon. I am half human, and half fairy,” she explained patiently. “And until a few months ago, I didn’t know about either the fairy or the dragon part. I do not change into anything with scales. The closest I have ever come is a red sequined dress. Now... why is my husband on that big horse, and where did that ridiculous get-up come from?”

  Now I heard the temper coming through. I couldn’t help it, I started to laugh. They turned to stare at me, as I hung onto the cantle and tried not to slip off the horse while I was helpless with laughter.

  “Da-David...” I gasped for air. My eyes were streaming. “Get me down from this beast before she shoots you. Seriously, you know the whole female is deadlier than the male thing?”

  He sighed and his feathers smoothed out. I found myself standing on the grass, horse and armor gone.

  “You are entirely too dramatic.” I told him, feeling grouchy now that the crisis had passed.

  Bella walked over and hugged me, and I could feel a little tremble. He’d scared her, but she hadn’t shown it. “I’m not a dragon, am I?”

  I squeezed her tight. “You’re you. And David won’t hurt you, he’s going to help us get the young ones back safe.” I looked over her shoulder at him, my eyes narrowed. “Right?”

  He bridled. “If there are children in danger, you know I will help. As long as she stays in human form.”

  Bella giggled. “I think I can safely promise that.” I felt her relax, and she stepped away.

  I rolled my shoulders, feeling the tight muscles from the fight impulses and the weight of the armor. “Where,” I asked David without preamble, “is Baba Yaga’s lair?” I was done playing at the courtly poetic manners he usually insisted on.

  He drew himself up, and changed into human form. Part of the reason I thought he was so old was the way he preferred to dress. David favored a chiton, although rarely in the original white you see on statues. This one was sapphire blue silk, and set off his red hair nicely. His feet were sandaled, and I had come to believe over the times I’d known him, protected with spells, as I’d tear myself up working and fighting in those, and he never had as much as a splinter.

  Bella picked up her pan, carefully. “The hut, before I was so rudely interrupted, has made it as far as the Ural mountains. It hasn’t slowed down as much as I had hoped.”

  “Why would it slow down?” David asked me. He seemed to have decided to ignore Bella.

  “Because she damaged at least one leg deeply sometime last night.” I told him. “I told you. Bella is dangerous.”

  He looked at her, then back at me before answering. “Baba Yaga is in a bad place. A harm from above has infected Underhill with foul growths.”

  “And she fancies herself queen?” I guessed, musing that it would be the reason that she was coming after Eastern Court.

  “She has been gathering power to her, and those who wish more power. I wanted nothing to do with it, and walled myself off from her. She is north of Kiev, perhaps a few hours flight.”

  It dawned on me what could possibly affect both worlds, through a door, or even just a thin place in the veil between them. “She’s using Chernobyl.”

  He shrugged. “I do not know the name, it is long since I went above.”

  “Going above there, would be bad for your health.” I told him. “There was a nasty accident about thirty years ago, above time.”

  He nodded. “It was then, I spent most of my time sleeping.”

  “Can we catch the hut? It tried to catch us, last night, when it stopped and we caught up to it.”

  He looked thoughtful. “The Urals, and it started where?”

  “Japan, yesterday. Stopped in the night, presumably to rest, although it might have been just to capture us.” I wasn’t sure about that, either.

  “It does need to rest, or at least recharge. It is a construct, not strictly alive.” David looked thoughtful. “I do not think it will reach her this day. We might, if we can find it, be able to reach it tonight. You cannot fly to it with your pretty soap-bubble spells.”

  I grinned wryly. “We figured that out. We have to walk.”

  “No, no...” He shook his head. “You will ride in style.”

  I winced. “David, no offense, but that horse...”

  “Prince?” He smiled. “Beautiful, is he not?”

  “Very showy,” I agreed.

  “But no, not riding on a horse. I have a little something I picked up from my brother on my last visit home.”

  “I can find the hut.” Bella broke in. “When it stops tonight, we can be ready for it. Predicting where it stops would be useful.”

  David nodded, acknowledging her. “It is in the Urals now? And damaged?” He looked thoughtful, then snapped his fingers. “Where are my manners?”

  A long table appeared, standing on a priceless Persian rug, three chairs arranged around it, and then a tablecloth, followed by various dishes, some covered, others displaying sumptuous food.

  “Please, eat, drink.” He gave us a low bow with a flourish. “I think...” He snapped his fingers and a roll of parchment appeared in his hand. The table abruptly extended a couple of feet to allow him to roll it out. “Here.” He stabbed a finger on the map. “This is a likely place. It is empty, now.” I saw a wistful expression cross his face. Whatever age David was, his appearance was still that of a youth, and I believed he might have been the model for Michelangelo’s David. He was remembering some distant past and long-gone person. He’d admitted once, in a rare unguarded moment, that he only allowed himself few friends, as their loss pained him and, as he put it, a little of his heart died with every death of love.

  He was pointing, now, at a bend in the Volga River. “It is called Samara, above. The Fae that lingered there are few, and will not hinder her.”

  He looked at us. “We will go there, but first, eat, please.”

  We sat, and did so. Bella looked a little overwhelmed. David adhered to the old, old ways, and some of the dishes on the table had not been seen above since the decadence of the Byzantines. Or so I have been told, I’m not that old. I’m fairly sure we were not being served hummingbird tongues, at least, although I wouldn’t have put it past him. He didn’t consider himself an animal, and ate meat.

  I sipped at the dry, golden wine he had provided for drink. Customs might change, but David didn’t much. He’d no sooner serve us water than gruel. Bella, too, was sipping. I remembered an offhand remark she had made, soon after becoming consort-elect, about drinking more Underhill than she ever had in her life.

  “Baba Yaga is very strong.” He told us now, as we ate. “She has been defeated, but I do not think she can be killed.”

  “How to we defeat the hut?” Bella asked, “And do you think she will be there, tending it?”

  “She will be there, tending her vic
tims.” David pressed his fingertips to his lips, a gesture of discomfort, for him.

  “Then what can we use against her? Will mortal weapons do any good, or should we only arm ourselves with spells?” Now I was asking questions.

  “Your mortal weapons, if they throw enough power, may work.”

  I’d shown him pistols and modern rifles a long time ago. Now, I contemplated what he was saying.

  “For spells,” he went on, “Her power derives from the wind, so fire and air will not harm her, but...” He looked at me. “Earth may smother it.”

  Bella brightened. “The excavation spell?” She asked me.

  I nodded, smiling. “You’ll get to use it on dirt, for a change.”

  David looked at both of us. “If you are satisfied...”

  I nodded at him. We had eaten our fill. He got up, and Bella and I imitated him. He dismissed the table with another snap, but the rug remained. With an impish grin, he seated himself on it, cross legged. He patted the rug.

  “Come on, it’s fun!”

  “David, you know this thing makes me seasick.” I protested. I’d been afraid this was what he’d meant.

  “A flying carpet?” Bella asked, sinking down next to David. “I had no idea they were possible.”

  He shrugged, pleased at her attention and encouragement. “A long-lost process, to weave spells in with the wool. Very handy, though, when one is tired of using their own wings.”

  She nodded. We’d had enough experience with that the last couple of days to last us both a very long time. I sat, reluctantly, and near enough to the edge to lean over if need be. The rug slowly elevated, David being nice, and not doing any fancy moves with it. Once we were well above the trees, the rug sped up. We didn’t feel the effects of the passing wind, and we weren’t high enough to feel a lack of air. I tried to ignore my stomach.

  “I am grateful for your help.” Bella told David.

  He looked at me, and the corners of his lips quirked a little. “There is very little Learoyd could ask of me and I would not do.”

  She looked back and forth between us, and raised an eyebrow slightly. I kept as straight a face as I knew how. David had never made his feeling a secret, and seemed unfazed by my non-reciprocation. I didn’t use those feelings, either. He would have come along on this trip for the fun of it, and for the children.