by Kathy Lyons
“I don’t care,” Laddin said emphatically. “I’ll be happy if I never see them again.”
“That’s mean!” Erin and Feta said together.
“I don’t mean you!” he rushed to say, though from the look on his face, he absolutely did. “Besides, you’ll be in Fairy Fairyland like you want, right?”
“Fairyland,” they both said together, in the same tone they’d use for Nirvana or heaven or triple fudge chocolate cake with sprinkles.
“So?” Bruce pressed the fairies. “Can you do it? Can you merge together to make a baby?”
Erin poked out her lips. “I can do it. You don’t need him.”
“I can do it,” Feta said. It was weird hearing Feta’s voice coming out of a kid. “You don’t need her.”
And right there, he saw the sticking point. Back when they’d first met, the cheese fairies had been fighting with Erin’s fairies. They each believed that the other was preventing them from getting to Fairyland. It wasn’t true, but they’d believed it. And so now they didn’t like each other enough to go together.
Bruce crossed his arms and put on his sternest paternal voice. “You do this together or not at all. Smoked Gouda said that I was the one who got you to Fairyland.”
“Us!” Feta cried. “Not them!”
“Together or not at all.”
The two pixies looked at each other—one big, one small, and both pouting.
She pointed at Bruce. “You have to think very hard.”
Feta pointed at Laddin. “You have to want it very much.”
That wasn’t a problem. Bruce crossed over and took Laddin’s hand. The energy flowed between them easily, from him into Laddin and back again. It was even stronger than it had been by the lake.
Meanwhile, Laddin grinned up at him. “You’re going to make a great dad,” he said. Then he added with a mock-stern look, “Together or not at all.”
Bruce grinned as he held up Laddin’s hand. “Together,” he echoed. “Or not at all.”
Then they turned to look at the fairies. It was all up to them as Bruce began to concentrate. He wanted an exact replica of Aaron—one so perfect in every way that Bitterroot wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.
Nothing happened.
At least, not at first. Both fairies were still pouting. But then—at the exact instant, as far as Bruce could see—they abruptly grinned. Erin spun around and cried, “Fireworks!”
Feta lifted up his chubby arms and cried, “Cheesy, cheesy!”
Suddenly there were sparkling lights everywhere, as well as the smell of every disgusting cheese in the world. Wulfric started to cough, Bruce struggled not to gag, and Laddin groaned.
“Keep picturing—”
“Aaron,” Laddin said.
Fortunately it didn’t last long. The cheeses all dove straight into Feta. The light fairies including Erin gathered into one large huddle, then turned en masse and rushed the fairy baby. It looked like they meant to topple him, but when they hit, they winked out of sight.
Suddenly there were no sparkling fairy lights anywhere. And no cheeses. Just Feta, sitting there grinning like an eight-month-old baby.
“To Fairyland!” he cried, the words echoing as if they had been spoken by a thousand tiny voices. And then he abruptly shrank down to infant size, becoming an exact copy of Aaron. At least, until the fairy baby farted. Smoke came out of his ass like what had come from Smoked Gouda, and the smell was rank.
“None of that!” Laddin snapped. “No cheese farts!”
The fairy baby pouted and crossed its arms.
“And no commentary,” Bruce added. “You have to stay like a real baby.”
“Then you have to think of us as a real baby!” the too-smart baby answered.
He could do that. Laddin’s nod said the same thing.
It took a while to finish everything up. They had to feed, burp, and diaper Aaron before getting him settled with Wulfric. They had to dress and diaper the fairy baby, which wasn’t as easy as it sounded. First, the child kept wanting to play. And for this baby, play meant peeing at inappropriate times and farting rancid smells before giggling like the pixies they were. If there hadn’t been so much at stake, Bruce would have laughed. A lot. But he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about what they were risking. As far as he could tell, Bitterroot was godlike in his abilities. Tricking him was like trying to trick Zeus. It was hard to do and the vengeance would be merciless and probably unending. He remembered the punishments meted out to Sisyphus and other uppity Greeks, and did not want to become a mythic cautionary tale.
But they were quickly running out of time and had no other options, so if he was going to have to roll a boulder up a hill for all of eternity like Sisyphus, then at least he’d know he’d given it his best shot.
“All in,” Laddin said, kissing Bruce hard on the mouth. “No matter what.”
Bruce nodded. Then he picked up the fairy baby and held it close. “This is our child. Don’t think about it any other way.”
Laddin nodded as he stroked fairy Aaron’s cheek. “Our child.” Then he wrinkled his nose. “You need to smell a lot better than that,” he grumbled at the child.
“Then think of Aaron’s smell,” Bruce said, doing the same. “Remember it clearly.”
Suddenly the room was filled with the scent of new baby. It was sweet, and it was definitely overpowering.
“A little less,” Bruce said to the child. And then together, he and Laddin headed out of their bedroom.
They were met in the hall by all the members of their team and the director, who looked as sad as a man could look while still being dressed in a rumpled suit. Stratos was there too, appearing absolutely miserable, but no more than Yordan and Bing. Nero was grim, Wiz had lost his arrogant sneer, but it was Josh who stepped forward.
“Okay,” he said with determination in his voice. “We’re all here for you. What’s the plan?”
Bruce blinked, unexpectedly overcome by the show of support, but it was Laddin who spoke. “There’s no plan. We’re ….” He looked down at the baby. “We’re giving him over.”
“Bullshit,” Josh said. Then he caught his brother’s eye. “Do we fight? We need to know. Or are you running?”
Bruce shook his head. “No fight. And we’re not running.” He pulled the baby close to his chest. “We’re giving him up.” In his arms, fairy Aaron squirmed in happiness, but Bruce tightened his grip.
“You’re handing him over?” Josh’s voice was incredulous. “Just like that?”
“Yes,” Bruce said. “Just like that.”
Silence filled the room. It was so quiet they could hear fairy Aaron sucking on his fist like a vacuum cleaner. Bruce even tried to pull the tiny fist away, but it was suctioned in so hard that he had to give up or lose the image in his mind. This was baby Aaron. This was his son.
Nero touched Josh’s arm, but his words were for Laddin and Bruce. “Maybe it’s for the best.”
“Don’t say that!” Laddin snapped, but Bruce gripped Laddin’s hand.
“Yes, it is,” he said firmly. “We talked about this.” And they had. They’d discussed how Laddin was going to be torn up and angry at giving up the child but that Bruce would be the mean one. He’d insist that the demon-turned-baby was too much for them to handle.
Laddin didn’t say anything but turned his head away as if overcome with emotion, and damn it, the guy deserved an Oscar for the performance. Even though he knew it wasn’t real, the sight cut at Bruce. He didn’t like being at odds with Laddin, even when he really wasn’t. And wow, wasn’t that a measure of how far he’d fallen for the guy?
But they had a job to do, so he lifted his chin and headed for the door.
“Cut your losses, right?” Josh challenged before they’d gone two steps. “Do what you’re told and damn the consequences because that’s your style.”
Was that what Josh thought of him? God, that was so wrong, it hurt to hear. It was even worse to see the rigid way Josh
held himself and the angry clench of his jaw. Bruce had done everything he could to reconnect with Josh. He’d done everything to protect his little brother. And he’d never, ever cut and run when they were kids. He’d stuck it out, endured his father’s “lessons” in how to fight, and he’d never complained about the bruises, cuts, or even the broken ribs that he blamed on football.
He’d never bailed in his entire life, but he had to make this look real. So even though it took every ounce of willpower he had, he forced himself to nod.
“Yes. That’s my style.”
Josh grunted. “Knew it.” Then he backed away from door. “Go on, then. Let’s go bail on your kid.”
Bruce bristled. He wasn’t bailing on his child. He was risking everything to save him. The only thing that stopped him from screaming that at his stupid brother was the fact that Laddin had taken his elbow and squeezed hard. “It’ll be okay,” he whispered.
The hell it would. He’d started this whole journey to reconnect with Josh. But now they were further apart than ever. Josh still thought he was an asshole. And a runaway father too!
“Come on,” Laddin said loudly. “Let’s get this over with.”
Chapter 27
TO FAIRYLAND WE GO!
THEY MADE it to the oak tree by dawn. The silent procession stood in the middle of a fallow field, waiting. It was weird to go there and not see the cheese fairies, but then again, Bruce reminded himself, the pixies were here. Wrapped in his arms and smelling like day-old cheese.
“Wait!” whispered Laddin as he abruptly gripped Bruce’s elbow. “What about the Earth? Aren’t they supposed to do stuff on Earth? Are we about to kill—?”
“Don’t worry,” the fairy baby said in Erin’s voice. “There are lots of us, and Earth will make more. She always does!”
“Shhh,” Bruce said as he jostled the baby as if he were trying to settle it down. He glanced at Laddin, who nodded and blew out a relieved sigh. Bruce did too, because he hadn’t even thought of the ramifications to Earth if all the pixies suddenly disappeared. He didn’t understand exactly what the fairies did, but he figured they had to have a purpose. He was glad that he wasn’t screwing things up again, even as he tried to fix them.
Bruce and Laddin waited under the tree while the others formed a semicircle behind them in a silent show of support. Bruce couldn’t feel more grateful, especially when the first rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon and Bitterroot appeared in a dramatic flash.
He didn’t look like a salad fairy this time either. No, he was man-size and wearing that pompous prince outfit covered in butterflies that clung to the velvet. Somehow that matched the arrogant cut to his jaw and his upraised nose as he sniffed.
“What is that smell?”
Shit. Shit. Shit. This was not going to work.
Laddin sniffed loudly. “I think the baby needs a diaper change.”
“What have you been feeding the child?” Bitterroot gasped.
“Baby formula,” Bruce said. “But, you know, it’s from Wisconsin, so it’s heavy on the dairy.”
The prince curled his lip. “It is good that I take the child, then. Even I know that you must be careful feeding dairy to a baby.” He held out his hand. “Give it to me.”
Laddin stiffened. “It’s not an it! His name is Aaron!”
“No, it’s not,” Bitterroot countered. “My lady will give him an appropriate name.”
“Aaron is—”
Bruce interrupted before Laddin could go too far in his “defending the baby” part. “Swear to me, Bitterroot. Swear that this child will be cherished, that he’ll be honored and protected. Swear it, Bitterroot, or—”
“There is no or,” Bitterroot interrupted. “I have sworn it already.”
Laddin shook his head. “Not good enough.”
Bitterroot sighed as he looked at them. “I swear it. This child will be honored and protected by myself and all my minions within Fairyland.”
Bitterroot had minions? Lucky him. Meanwhile, a dirt-colored moth slipped out from beneath Bitterroot’s hair and flew off into the morning air. The prince stared at it in confusion, clearly thinking something. Was it a tell? Were they about to be exposed?
Bruce rushed ahead, forcing his words out too loudly because he was trying to distract the prince. “How do I know you won’t come back for something more? How do I know this is done for good?”
“Because that was our bargain. Your power for the child.” Bitterroot held out his hands. “You are stalling. I told you this would be no easier in the morning.”
“Swear it,” Bruce said. “Swear this ends here.”
Laddin spoke up. “And that you’ll never do this to anyone else. This baby is the last child you grab.”
“It is not a grab!” Bitterroot said, clearly offended. “It was a bargain—”
“Either way,” Bruce countered.
Bitterroot blew out an annoyed breath. “Fine. The child will be cherished because he is more than enough to save my kingdom. I swear that I will barter for no other human child once I have this one and that our bargain will be complete. I also swear that I will bother you no more. You will not see me again unless you call my name. Now you will hand him over or I will have the legions of Fairy—”
“Stop with the threats!” Bruce snapped to cover his elation. They’d done it. They’d gotten the bastard to declare their deal done the moment the fairy Aaron was handed over. And as proof, a ruby-red butterfly detached from Bitterroot’s sleeve and hovered in the air between them. “We’ll do it. We’ll hand him over.”
Except now that the time had come, Bruce found it really hard to give the child up. Even though he knew it was the pixies, knew it wasn’t his baby, handing anything over to the arrogant bastard went against everything he believed in. Laddin must have felt it too, because he crowded close as he stroked the baby’s forehead.
“Will he be able to come back to Earth? You know, to visit?”
“Yes,” Bitterroot said with clear impatience. “I will bring him back myself when he is ready.”
Laddin’s head snapped up. “And when will that be?”
“When it is time!” Bitterroot stomped forward, his frustration clearly outweighing his need to make them present the child like a gift to a king. “You do not need to know the details of a prince’s education.”
But Bruce really did want to know. And he wanted to ask a thousand more questions too, because when it came right down to it, he couldn’t seem to make himself pass the child over. He couldn’t give anything precious to that arrogant bastard, even knowing that it was the answer to all their problems and, more than that, the pixies wanted it.
“It’s okay,” Laddin said as he supported Bruce’s arms. “We’ll get through this.”
Bruce didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. His throat was clogged shut and his feet wouldn’t move. Laddin had to do it for him. Laddin had to be the strong one—the sane one—and do what had to be done.
“I hope this works out how you want,” he whispered to the baby.
If there was an answer, Bruce didn’t see it. Laddin lifted the child out of his arms and gave him to Bitterroot.
The prince held the child gently, and there was such elation in his face that Bruce truly believed a human child could save Bitterroot’s kingdom. Except, of course, the baby wasn’t a human child and Bitterroot had just promised not to do anything like this again. That meant the arrogant bastard was well and truly screwed.
There was real satisfaction in that. Assuming, of course, that they pulled this off.
“So we’re done?” Bruce asked. “Well and truly done?”
“Yes,” Bitterroot responded, his eyes still on the baby.
“Yes,” whispered the director, who abruptly swept a net down over the red butterfly. While everyone watched, he muttered some words over the insect, making it freeze solid. Then, with steady fingers, he gently pulled out the butterfly and set it in a plastic container he’d brought with him.
> “Tupperware?” Bitterroot gasped in horror. “You keep my bargains in Tupperware?” Apparently those little butterflies represented the prince’s promises.
The director shrugged. “Actually, I think it’s Glad. It was all we had on hand.”
Bitterroot huffed out an annoyed breath. “I do not understand humans!”
Wasn’t that the truth? Meanwhile, Laddin was offering up a small bag of supplies. “Um, did you want this? It’s got formula and a diaper—”
“I will not put plastic on my child!” Bitterroot huffed, and damn if Bruce didn’t stiffen at the my child part. “Only spun silk will touch his skin.”
“In a diaper?” Laddin asked, his voice incredulous.
“Even so,” Bitterroot announced, and then, in a flash, he was gone, along with the pixie baby.
Everyone stood still for a moment—a very long moment—as they looked around at one another. The same question was on everyone’s face. Was it over? Was there anything more to do?
It was the director who answered as he tucked the frozen butterfly into his jacket pocket.
“All done,” he said gravely. “You got him to swear that it was over. And thanks to this…” He held up another frozen insect. It was the brown moth. Bruce had no idea when he’d caught it. “…he’s promised to cherish that child and not bargain for another one.” He looked at Laddin. “Good call there getting him to say that.”
Laddin nodded. Then he looked back toward the house. Bruce took his cue, and they started the long slog back to the house—though it was not so much a walk as a jog. They both wanted to make sure the real Aaron was safe and sound.
Josh trotted beside them, easily keeping pace. “So what was that that you gave the fairy asshole? A clone? Simulacrum? Doppelganger?”
Bruce frowned at his brother. “What makes you think it wasn’t Aaron?” Hell, he’d choked up enough over the fake Aaron that he’d almost caught himself believing the lie.
