by Susan Ee
Cinder startled. She hadn’t seen the old man hiding in the shadows. “I, um, I’d like a fairy, please.”
“You would, of course you would. But that will cost you more than you have.”
“How do you know what I have?”
“You’re here, aren’t you? If you had enough to buy a proper fairy, you wouldn’t be at this end of Slavers Row.”
“That would mean that your fairies are cheap.” Or at least cheaper, she hoped.
“Fairies are never cheap. One may think that they may be a bargain, but they are never cheap.”
Cinder cleared her throat. “I need to bring home a fairy for my stepsisters and my stepmother. Is there one that I can rent even for a few hours?”
The slaver rubbed his beard. “Well, there is one that I wouldn’t normally sell.” He turned to look at one of the cages. “But if you pay full price in advance, then I might let you take her for a few days.”
“It needs to be a fairy with some magic. You’ll not swindle me out of my stepmother’s coins to palm off a supposed fairy with no magic at all.”
“Oh, this one has magic, you have my word on it.”
“Enough to make beautiful ball gowns and cast a youth glamour on my stepmother?”
“Certainly. She can do all that and more.”
“And she’s not so sickly that she’ll faint on us or pass diseases into our household?”
“Certainly not.”
“How much is she?” Cinder held her breath. If the price was beyond what her stepmother could pay, then Cinder could end up in one of these cages.
“How much do you have?”
“I’m not so foolish as to tell you everything I have, for you’ll simply demand that of me.”
“Is it enough to buy a full-priced fairy?” asked the slaver.
Cinder fidgeted. “Well, no, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”
“Exactly. The price is every coin you have. That’s a bargain. Everyone will tell you that.”
Cinder stared at the merchant. He was right, and they both knew it. Everyone knew that fairies were expensive. They were caught by the Dark King’s best hunters. Until now, only the nobles could buy or rent one.
A part of her trembled in excitement at the possibility of coming home with a fairy. Another part of her, though, questioned why this slaver was willing to let go of a fairy for whatever it was that Cinder had in her pocket.
“Let me see this fairy.”
The slaver hesitated for just a moment. Then he turned and gestured to a cage that was not large enough to let a fairy stand.
In the shadows of the small cage, a fairy crouched. She wore a tattered, colorless rag. Her skin was sallow and she was skeletal. But her eyes were full of fire.
“She looks half-dead.” There was something about her that tickled Cinder’s memory.
“It’s power that you want, isn’t it? Why, she has so much power that we had to half starve the thing so she wouldn’t overpower us. She’s just right as she is. Don’t let her command your mercy. Don’t let her command anything. Feed her as little as you can—just barely enough to keep her alive—and she’ll do whatever you want. Food is a great bribe for a fairy that’s half-starved.”
Cinder didn’t want any part of this slaver or his abused fairies. Everyone knew that fairies could be dangerous, but she had no idea they were so abused. The poor thing was skin and bones crammed into a too-small cage.
“All right,” said Cinder. “But you must agree to deliver her. I can’t carry a cage, and she doesn’t look like she can walk.”
The slaver grinned. It looked rather evil to Cinder.
“Deal.”
Cinder nodded.
He put out his hand for her coin purse. It occurred to her that he’d never determined just how much she had. But like most people who weren’t wealthy, she only carried one bag with all her coins.
She brought out her coin bag and dumped the contents onto his outstretched palm. His hand closed around the coins immediately, as if it was a reflexive movement.
“Bring her back the day after the ball. If you don’t return her for any reason—any reason at all—then you’ll owe me the full price of a living fairy. The Dark King’s soldiers will get involved if a fairy goes missing. And neither you nor I are equipped to deal with the Dark King’s wrath.”
Cinder nodded. The king’s soldiers got involved whenever anything happened these days. It was a daily occurrence to have someone dragged to the town square to be humiliated and punished for some slight or another.
Cinder told him where to bring the fairy, and he agreed he’d deliver it within the hour. He tried to hide it, but he looked suspiciously relieved.
She took one last look at her new fairy.
The thing grinned at her.
The fairy was all eyes and teeth covered in a mop of limp and colorless hair. But there was something about her that nagged at Cinder again. A memory? A story?
She shook her head and walked briskly out of Slavers Row.
Chapter 22
It wasn’t until the fairy was delivered and left crouched in her cage in the kitchen that Cinder realized she’d seen her before. Beneath all that hair hanging over her face, beneath the gaunt face and the thin body, was the woman she’d met in the forest years ago.
That was when she had no idea how to fight. She had thought she did in those days because she had had two whole months of training from Silver.
But now that she was going on two years of training, she knew just how dangerous it had been for her to believe that she could fend for herself in the forest. She had gotten lucky—very lucky—when she made it out alive the first two times.
Those hunts were legendary now. They had been the beginning of the real hunts.
Now, every nobleman in all the lands came from miles around to participate. On the full moon, every inn and guesthouse was full of travelers. Not just those who wanted to experience the excitement for themselves, but singers and storytellers who wanted fresh stories to spread, the merchants who sold luxury and necessary goods to the travelers, potion makers, dressmakers and every kind of person imaginable.
The full-moon hunts were a catalyst for the growth of the town and the kingdom itself. There were rumors that even enemies of the kingdom secretly came as guests of the Dark King to hunt human prey. Lots of hunters wore masks to hide their true identity.
It used to be nothing but a group of terrified local villagers being hunted in the night, but now, they ran side by side with strangers imported from elsewhere.
It had become a spectacle. There were the monthly hunts and the annual royal hunt. For the royal hunt, the Dark King declared a prize for the hunter with the most captives.
“Captured” was the word that the king’s officials used, but everyone knew it really meant captured or killed. So long as the winner could prove their numbers, it didn’t matter whether their captures were dead or nearly dead.
There were only two rules to the hunts. The first was that no one could start until the full moon rose. And the second was that the hunt ended when the sun rose. Between these two times, everything was fair game.
This year, there were disturbing rumors that the Dark King would hold the ball near the big hunt. No one believed it, though. The nobles would have to quickly bounce from the princes’ ball to the royal hunt, or the other way around.
Worse, since the ball was open to all females regardless of birth or social standing, the hunt was likely to have few prey running through the woods, since it was far more lucrative to have one’s daughter marry a prince than to be hunted. Having the ball on the full moon would mean that the hunt would be robbed of the usual excitement.
So no one truly believed it, but the rumors wouldn’t go away. The castle servants kept talking about how all the food and decorations, all the pageantry and beautiful clothes for the ball, needed to be ready by the full moon.
There was always the possibility that the Dark King had finally gone mad. Ev
eryone suspected he was anyway, but this would just prove it. The big annual hunt was his best legacy other than his sons.
“Is that creature our fairy?” Tammy stepped into the kitchen with a flourish of her skirts.
“It’s awful. Look at it.” Darlene put her perfumed handkerchief to her nose.
“What does a wretched creature like that know of noble balls and dresses?” asked Tammy.
“More than you ever will,” said the fairy. Her voice hissed with lack of use. “Fairies live with royal balls and dresses every day of their lives.”
“Not today,” said Tammy.
“Not yesterday or last week, either, by the look of you,” said Darlene.
“You doubt me?” asked the fairy.
“Absolutely,” said Tammy. “Cinder, you’ve wasted our money, as usual. You just want to make sure we’re never picked by the princes. Your jealousy will be the death of you one day.”
As Tammy was speaking, her plain, at-home dress grew laces all along her neckline and wrists. Her petticoats turned into the finest rose silk, and her neck and wrists sparkled with jewels.
Darlene screeched when she saw what was happening. She turned to the fairy.
“Do that for me. Why do you do that for Tammy and not for me?”
The fairy gave her a weary look.
Darlene’s dress began to turn gray with all the color leaching out of it. Her hair fell out of her coif and lay limply along her shoulder. Then it began to frizz. The laces on her dress fell off, dangling halfway, and then her seams began to tear.
Darlene screeched again while Tammy laughed.
“Wonderful, fairy!” Tammy clapped her hands. “I knew you’d be perfect as soon as I laid eyes on you.”
Darlene picked up a berry pie off the kitchen table and threw it at the cage.
It splashed all over the bars and oozed down to the floor. Before it fell all the way down, the fairy scooped it up and ate it out of her hands.
“You ghastly beast,” said Darlene. “I’ll have you strung up for this. You just wait until Mama hears of this.”
“I think she’s lovely,” said Tammy as she admired her new bracelet.
The fairy grinned with red berries smeared along her lips and teeth. She then licked the remaining pie off the cage bars.
The girls flounced out, bickering all the way. As their voices faded, Cinder scooped up a cup of water and put it down on the floor where the fairy could reach it.
“You’re that lady I met in the forest a couple of years ago.”
“Am I? I’ve spent many years in the forest, met many creatures, including people.”
“You showed me how to get out of the forest.”
“And in return, what did you do for me?”
Cinder hesitated. “I pointed you in the direction of the hunters.”
“The hunters.” The fairy grinned. Her teeth were sharp and pointed. “I remember you now, human. That was the juiciest bit of fun I’d had in a hundred years.”
Cinder picked up a crust of bread left over from breakfast and split it in two.
“You’ve changed,” said the fairy. “Taller. More of a woman now.”
Cinder reached out to give half the bread to the fairy. The fairy began to reach for it, then hesitated.
“You share bread with a fairy. What do you want from me in return?”
“Nothing. My stepmother and stepsisters have eaten their breakfast, which means it’s time for ours.” Cinder took a bite of her piece.
“I must know the price before I accept favors.”
“It’s not a favor. It’s breakfast.”
The fairy continued to stare at her without taking the bread.
“Fine.” Cinder sighed. “Tell me your name, and I will give you the bread.”
The fairy’s face cleared. “Ah. I have many names. But a piece of leftover bread is worth only one, I think. You may call me Snklkolehnalyn.”
“I can’t pronounce that.”
“What will you give me in exchange for a name you can pronounce?”
Cinder sighed. “Water? How about a pitcher—no, a cup—of water?”
“Two cups.”
“Deal.”
“You may call me Lalyn.”
“That’s a lovely name. You can call me Cinder.”
“Sinder. As in sin?”
“No. As in cinder from the fireplace.”
“Ah. A dark and bitter name. It suits me better than you. Shall we switch? My name in exchange for yours?”
“I would, but my stepfamily who gave me that name would call me Cinder no matter that I gave it to you.”
“We could fix that. You could be me and I, you.”
Cinder looked at the wretched creature hunched in the cage. It was a reminder that things could always get worse.
“No, thank you.” She took another bite of her bread. “If I let you out of that cage, will you promise not to harm anyone or to cause havoc?”
The fairy thought for a moment. “How long will I be out?”
“Well, if you stick with your promise, you’ll be out for as long as you are with us. Unless my stepfamily makes you go back in. But I don’t think that will be likely, since they’ll think you dirty and will probably want me to deal with you myself.”
“Deal. No harm, no havoc.”
Cinder had a prickling of unease as she unlocked the cage.
The slaver had assured her that fairies were forced to bind themselves to their owners when they were caught. During the lease, Lalyn would be bound to Cinder and couldn’t harm her.
But Cinder wasn’t entirely confident that the binding would work. Perhaps the slaver didn’t know that he had the fairy who’d slaughtered a dozen hunters in that famous hunt that started the current fashion.
Chapter 23
When the cage was unlocked, Cinder stepped back.
Lalyn paused as if unable to believe that the door was open. She slowly reached forward and crawled out.
The tall fairy unfolded out of the cage, looking long and lean. Her shape had shrunk to the shape of a skeleton, her once-beautiful dress tattered and colorless, her once-vibrant hair limp and lanky.
But her eyes were the same. Full of cunning and fire.
Cinder took another step back when she saw the eyes. They were not the eyes of a broken creature. Would the fairy want to exact revenge on Cinder for all the wrong that had been done to her by others?
“I should like a taste of meat.” Lalyn licked her dry lips. “And drink wine. Do you have any here, child?”
Cinder nodded.
“What would you have me do in exchange for them?”
Cinder cut a piece of pidgin pie from last night’s supper and put it on a plate.
“I would like you to accept gifts of food and drink from me for this one meal. If you agree to my bargain, you can have this pie and a glass of wine from my stepmother’s stores.”
The fairy hesitated. She did not look comfortable.
“That is a hard bargain you drive, child. Taking advantage of my starved state?” She nodded. “I approve. And agree. You’ll never catch me agreeing to such a humbling bargain again. You can be sure I will return the insult at some time in the future.”
But her voice was soft and her eyes were more for the food than for Cinder. So Cinder felt reassured enough to give Lalyn a generous amount of pie and a glass of wine.
The fairy seemed to forget about Cinder as she ate. She ate the cold pie as if it was a feast made by a famous chef. She did not gobble it up the way a normal starved person might. Instead, she savored every bite and tasted every sip of the wine.
The fairy did not thank Cinder when she was done. Instead, she picked a spot in the corner of the kitchen, curled up on the floor and fell asleep.
The floor was hard and cold, as Cinder knew all too well. So while Lalyn slept, Cinder gathered some blankets and draped it over the fairy.
Then she went upstairs to fetch the only other dress she owned. It was worn and
patched, but it was clean and far better than what the fairy was wearing. The fairy’s dress would need to be thrown out.
Cinder let Lalyn sleep for hours while she did her chores. While she swept and cooked, her stepsisters were trying out different dresses to get an idea of what they would like to wear. Their plan was to get a basic outfit ready for the fairy to enhance. They wanted the most outrageous dresses and jewelry of the entire ball so that they could stand out.
Helene helped her girls, but during the lulls, she was trying on her own dresses and looking closely at her face. Everyone knew that fairies could use magic to make someone look younger.
It wouldn’t be permanent, but Helene kept saying that she only needed it for one night. Cinder was sure, though, that if Lalyn could make Helene young again, she would insist on keeping the fairy no matter the cost.
When the fairy woke, she looked at the blanket that draped her and the folded dress beside her. She looked at the dress for a long time.
“I did not ask for a blanket.”
“I know. It’s a gift.”
“Gifts are dangerous. One gift always begets another.”
“No return gift necessary.”
“Gifts can enslave without asking. Gifts can warp and subvert a perfectly good relationship between two creatures. What will it cost me to accept your gifts?”
Cinder took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to allow Lalyn her dignity.
“You can make my dress look new again.” Cinder hadn’t had a new dress since her papa died.
Lalyn nodded. She put her palms up and swept them over Cinder’s dress.
From the bottom up, the dress turned into the most beautiful gown Cinder had ever seen. It shimmered with blue and flowed like butterfly wings when she moved.
Then Lalyn did the same for her own tattered gown. It turned into a graceful confection of silk and gauze so thin that it was almost not there.
A delighted gasp came from the kitchen doorway.
“That one’s mine,” said Tammy, pointing to Cinder’s dress.
“And that one is perfect for me,” said Helene, pointing to Lalyn’s dress.
“What about me?” asked Darlene. “Why am I always the one who gets left out? It’s just not fair!”
