Yet Another Dreadful Fairy Book

by Jon Etter

  The room erupted in excited chatter, as well it would. Given your vast knowledge of fairy lore, good Reader, I’m sure I don’t need to explain that taking part in a Fairy Rade, a grand parade where nobles wearing their finest clothes march or ride on ponyback through town and country while they smile and wave at the common fairyfolk, was the greatest joy of the fairy nobility. And being asked to take part in one—and, moreover, to be named a special guest of the royal family—was an honor any proper fairy would give their right arm, leg, or wing for.

  Shade, upon hearing the news, frowned, and her shoulders slumped. “Do I have to?” she quietly groaned.

  “Yep,” Julius said as he took a handful of crackers out of his nightgown pocket and began to munch on one.

  “Yes, I am pleased to announce that a Fairy Rade unlike any that Elfame has ever seen will begin tomorrow,” Viola declared as she gracefully rose from her throne. “It will not, however, begin here in Dinas Ffaraon, as has always been the tradition. It will begin … in Ande-Dubnos, royal seat of the Sluagh Horde.”

  All smiles in the room immediately vanished, replaced by looks of shock and dismay.

  “I know, it’s unheard of. The Sluagh have been our enemies for generations. But now the Seelie and the Sluagh are at peace—” Viola paused as Julius cleared his throat and looked at her expectantly. “Thanks to the truce signed by my uncle, our beloved king. And to affirm the commitment of both sides to the established peace, Prince Beow of the Sluagh Horde and I will ride together from his home to ours with a small group of specially selected nobles of both courts—”

  “Jamison, you collected our special selection fees, right?” Julius asked, wiping cracker crumbs off his chest.

  “Yes, Your Excellency.”

  “—but we would be delighted if all of you would join us in the Fairy Rade when we come through your lands so that we may all ride into Dinas Ffaraon as one united Elfame!”

  The opportunity to bask in the warm glow of public admiration melted the crowd’s apprehension, and so Viola’s invitation was greeted with cheers and thunderous applause. When it finally began to die down, Julius rose to his feet. “Seelie Court, you’re welcome! See, Jamison, I told you it was a fantastic idea.”

  “It wasn’t your idea,” Jamison muttered under her breath.

  “What was that? I couldn’t hear over my subjects’ adoration of me.”

  “I said that I’m sorry I ever doubted it, Your Excellency,” she replied.

  “I’ll let it go this time, Jamison, but watch your step. Especially when you go check on that bathroom in the east wing. Now clear out, all of you!” Julius waved his hands at the audience to shoo them out. “I’ve got a box of crackers and a comfy bed to eat them in, so we’re done here.”

  Julius stalked across the stage and out through a door in the wall. As people filed out of the room, Shade walked over to Viola. “What’s all this about a dingle-dangle Fairy Rade?”

  “It was Jamison’s idea, and an excellent one,” Viola explained.

  Jamison gave a slight bow. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I live to serve and—”

  “Jamison!” a voice roared behind the door in the wall.

  “You’ll excuse me, Princess Viola,” Jamison said apologetically before scurrying away. “Coming, Your Excellency! Coming!”

  “Okay, the rade?” Shade pressed, putting her hands on her hips.

  “We should talk about this in private. Come with me.” Viola took them to a small chapel not far from the throne room. Panels of stained glass depicting fields of green filled with white roses glowed around a statue of St. Figgymigg smiling at tiny pixies dancing on the palms of her hands, her head encircled by a halo of fluttering sprites. When they entered, a figure seated in the pews stood and turned to face them.

  “’Ey, it’s-a the Prince Beebo!” Ginch declared.

  “That’s Beow, mudbrain,” Shade corrected.

  Beow chuckled. “That’s okay. I’ve been called a lot worse.”

  The Professor held up a finger and pulled a stack of stickers from his pocket that read “Hello, my name is:” and a marker. He scribbled everybody’s names on them and slapped them onto their chests, except for Shade, who swatted it away. “Okay, what’s the deal with this stupid rade and why do I have to be part of it,” Shade demanded as the Professor stealthily wrote “Crabbypants” on a sticker and stuck it to her back.

  The smile vanished from Beow’s dark face. “The deal is that the truce is in trouble. Turns out it’s kind of hard to make a bunch of privileged dandies play nice with fairies they’ve been oppressing for as long as they’ve been in power—”

  “Especially when those ‘oppressed’ fairies have allied themselves with bloodthirsty monsters and have attacked and undermined them for just as long,” Viola cut in, glaring at Beow.

  “Now you know very well that those alliances, while regrettable, have allowed us to—” Beow cut himself off and laughed. “And we’re friends who want to keep the peace! The voices in the Sluagh Horde calling for an end to the truce and a new war to take full control of Elfame have gotten louder and louder. If my mother weren’t so firmly committed to the truce that she brokered, we’d probably have gone to war by now.”

  “As for my uncle, I love him, but he has no idea what he’s doing. To be honest, he doesn’t even want to be king, but I was a baby when my parents were killed in the last war and he’s only other fairy from the royal bloodline. Fortunately, he dotes on me and trusts Jamison, who does all the real work around here. While most of the leading nobles are pushing for war, the two of us have managed to keep him committed to the Treaty of Stormfield, but it’s getting harder and harder.”

  “Speaking of nobles pushing for war,” Shade said, “we found this secret passageway—”

  Viola shook her head. “Oh, this castle’s full of them. That’s why we’re meeting here—this is one of the only places where we can’t be spied on. It’s creepy.”

  Beow nodded sympathetically. “Ande-Dubnos is the same way. So creepy.”

  Shade told them about the conversation she had overheard, but Viola seemed unconcerned. “I’m not surprised. They’re probably trying to scam more money out of Armalite.”

  “But aren’t you worried they might actually get the king to go to war?” Shade asked.

  Viola shook her head. “Not as long as Jamison and I are around.”

  “And not if our plan for this rade works,” Beow said.

  Viola nodded enthusiastically. “Jamison and I were talking, and she thought that if people saw Beow and me together having a good time, that would help convince everyone that we can all get along.”

  “We’re very popular. And for good reason.” Beow grinned.

  “And allowing any noble who wants to join the procession would sell them on the benefits of the peace as well as give them the chance to meet members of the other court and see that they’re not so bad.” Viola crossed her arms, looking very pleased with herself.

  Shade frowned. “Or the chance to annoy the dangle out of each other and get into a fight right then and there.”

  Both elves shook their heads. “Nobles of both courts take these rades way too seriously,” Beow explained. “Anything other than quiet dignity or outgoing pleasantry on the part of any fairy taking part is considered deeply shameful and grounds for the stripping of the noble’s title and lands.”

  “No noble in either court would dare to do anything to disrupt an official rade like this one,” Viola concurred.

  “So why am I coming on this thing?” Shade demanded.

  The prince and princess looked at each other and smiled. “To help us disrupt the rade.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, it’ll be fantastic!” Beow declared.

  “Says someone who doesn’t have to worry about getting thrown into a dingle-dangle dungeon!” Shade cried. “Why the donkle would you want me to disrupt the rade? How?”

  Viola put her hands on Shade’s shoulders to try to calm
her. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to do anything except be riding there with us, which my uncle and his mother think is a way to honor you for saving our lives this past spring.”

  “If I’d known I’d have to be paraded about, I might have just let you burn,” Shade grumbled.

  “Well, you had your chance.” Beow slapped her on the back. “And now you’re a hero in both courts and, more importantly, to B.A.R.F., which is why we need you there.”

  “What does B.A.R.F. have to do with all this?”

  “The prince and I agree with B.A.R.F. and have been trying to figure out how to help them get representative government established in Elfame. This rade is the opportunity we’ve all been looking for. When we parade through the kingdom, B.A.R.F. is going to organize protestors everywhere we go to shout and hold up signs demanding democratic reforms. When the nobles see the sheer number of their subjects up in arms, they’ll know they have to do something to keep them happy or risk outright rebellion.”

  “And because they’re bound by the code of conduct of the Fairy Rade, all they’ll be able to do is sit there looking grim or smile and wave like doofuses instead of trying to lop anyone’s head off for daring to question their authority,” Beow explained. “It’s perfect. And to assure the common people out there protesting that everthing’s safe, we’ll have a great champion of the common people riding right there with us at the head of the procession.”

  “And who’s that?” Shade asked, dreading the inevitable answer.

  “Why, you, of course!” Viola declared happily.

  “I’m a librarian, not a hero.”

  “You’re both,” Beow replied.

  “No, I’m not. All I want to do is stay in my library and read my books and sometimes talk to some people about them and that’s it.” Shade stomped her foot and crossed her arms. “The rest of the world can just stay out and leave me alone.”

  “It’d be nice if it worked that way,” Viola said with a sigh. “But it doesn’t. When the world’s at war, libraries burn and readers die. We need you with us to make sure that doesn’t happen again. Besides, you wouldn’t want to disappoint your two favorite patrons, would you?”

  “Founding members of the Grand Library’s Young Readers Book Club,” Beow added.

  “Major financial and political backers.”

  “As well as the crown prince and princess of Elfame’s two ruling factions, either of whom could have you executed for treason if you refused.” Beow laughed at the look of dismay on Shade’s face. “Just kidding about that last one. Or am I?”

  “He is,” Viola said reassuringly. The two stood looking expectantly at the scowling Shade.

  “Fine!” She grumbled at last. “But I’m really not comfortable with this!”

  “Don’t worry,” Beow reassured her. “We’ll get you back to the library for a quiet afternoon and a good night’s sleep, and you’ll feel much better about everything tomorrow.”

  In which a child is not fooled and an old enemy reappears …

  “I’m really not comfortable with this,” Shade grumbled the next morning as she, Ginch, and the Professor descended stairs carved into the cliffs leading down to the entrance to Ande-Dubnos, the underground fortress of the Sluagh Horde.

  “Yeah, this armor, it do kinda chafe,” Ginch replied, knocking on the bronze breastplate he wore on top of his usual clothes. The Professor nodded in agreement, causing the visor of the helmet he wore to come clattering down over his face.

  “I’m not talking about the armor, although I’m not that keen about this outfit.” Shade looked down with some displeasure at her green leather armor and the bronze plates strapped to her chest, arms, and legs. “I’m talking about this rade.”

  “We know, you just wanna stay in the library with the books and—”

  “Well, yeah, who wouldn’t? But it’s more than that. I mean, it just seems like there are a lot of ways this plan could go wrong. What if the nobles do attack the protestors? What if somebody in the party unintentionally—or intentionally—insults someone else? What if—?”

  “What if this! What if that!” Ginch scoffed as he hopped off the final step to the rocky, gray beach in front of the dark, cavernous entrance to the Sluagh fortress. “Always you worry about the ‘what if’! You gotta stop alla the worries about the ‘what if’s alla the time. Look at us!” The Professor held his arms out as if to say “Ta-da!” and his visor again clattered down. “We never worry about the what if, and always we end up fine.”

  “And how often do you end up running for your lives?”

  “But always we … ” Ginch trailed off as they stepped into the darkness of the cave, where an obsidian snakehead filling the space from top to bottom stared down at them with glowing, ruby eyes. “ … get away.”

  There was a stirring in the deep shadows beneath the serpent’s stone head. From the darkness emerged two tall figures clad head to toe in black armor, their movements as graceful and silent as jungle cats stalking their prey. As they drew near, Shade took out her royal summons. She glanced nervously and saw the Professor take out another fake invitation. “You’re not seriously going to try that again, are you?” Shade hissed. “I keep telling you that those wouldn’t fool a child, and this really doesn’t see like the sort of place you want to get caught trying to sneak into!”

  “And I keep telling you we no need to fool the child. And these invitations—they work alla the time,” Ginch whispered back.

  The two figures stopped in front of Shade and drew long iron swords. Humans! Shade realized, her fear deepening.

  “State your business here,” an echoey voice demanded from behind one of their helmets.

  Shade gulped. “Um … well, I was summoned by the queen.” She held out her invitation.

  “And we gotta the invite too,” Ginch declared confidently as the Professor handed over their forgery with a flourish that once again made his visor fall down over his face.

  Each guard took a letter and glanced at it. They exchanged them and did the same again. Turning his head slightly, one of them called out, “Pippi!”

  A small figure, not quite as tall as Shade, clanked out of the shadows and took off her helmet to reveal an elven girl, barely twenty seasons old, with red pigtails. She squinted at Shade’s letter then did the same to the Professor’s. “Hers is good,” she declared handing it back. The Professor’s she crumbled up and tossed at Ginch. “And this is one of the most pathetic fakes I’ve ever seen.”

  Ginch and the Professor gave the elf child and human guards a weak smile. “Looks like you gotta the child checking the invites. Heh! And looks like we gots to skeedeedle!”

  Ginch and the Professor sprinted out of the cave, hands holding their hats in place, as fifteen black-clad figures ranging in size from hobgoblin to spriggan dashed out of the shadows in pursuit. “Those two aren’t with you, are they?” Pippi asked suspiciously.

  “Not anymore apparently,” Shade answered. “The guards won’t hurt them, will they?”

  “No, they’ll just lock them in the dungeon until the queen tells them what to do.”

  “You know, that might not be that bad for them,” Shade said.

  A loud gong sounded, then stone scraped on stone as the snake’s mouth opened wider and wider. Once the maw gaped fully open, Prince Beow walked out, smiling and holding out his arms. “Creepy, huh?”

  “‘ Terrifying’ would be a little more accurate.” Shade shivered as she walked under long stalactite fangs to join the Sluagh prince.

  “Yeah. That’s part of the point. When the Seelie and the Sluagh split, my ancestors built this place to be as secure and imposing as possible. There are a few secret escape passages, but for the most part the Snake Gate is the only way in or out. Follow me.” Prince Beow led Shade through a mazy series of hallways and corridors carved in the black stone lit by torches, braziers, shining wall sconces, and in some places phosphorescent lichen that grew on the ceilings.

  “You know, I think th
is place is just as big and as fancy as Dinas Ffaraon,” Shade noted after a time.

  Beow nodded. “Well, you know royalty—it’s got to be the best possible, no matter what the cost, especially since it’s really the common folk paying for it. Anyway, thanks for coming.”

  “I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?” Shade grumbled. “So, what’s the deal with this meeting with your mother? I already know about the rade. She’s not going to give me another medal, is she?”

  Beow shook his head. “No, we Sluagh don’t usually go in for that sort of thing. She just told me she wanted to talk with you before the rade but wouldn’t tell me anything other than that. Here, come up this way. Mom’s having a meeting with some of the nobles. We can watch from the council chamber balcony.”

  Shade followed Beow to a railing above a circular room with vaulted ceilings. The black walls, covered in bas-reliefs of great battles, were bare, save for a large painting depicting a tall elf, white of hair and skin, in fine black robes and sable cape, a cruel, imperious look on his face. His hand rested on the shoulder of a beautiful dark-skinned, raven-haired elf in a crimson gown (not unlike the one Shade had worn the previous day), looking solemn and regal sitting upon a silver throne. The two wore matching onyx crowns.

  In front of the painting was the very throne from the picture, and seated in it was the woman, only now she wore silver and black armor. Arranged in a circle around the room were seats only slightly smaller than the throne, some empty—including a matching silver throne on the opposite side of the room—but most occupied by all manner of armor-wearing fairies. In the center of the floor was a red tile mosaic of a rose, and in the middle of the rose stood a lone figure.

  Shade gasped, for she immediately recognized the haughty voice, the pale skin, the silver hair, and, most of all, the scar running from the corner of her lips all the way up to her left ear, twisting her mouth into a perpetual sneer—the scar that Shade’s own mother had given the elf in the last great war. It was Lady Perchta, the Duchess of Sighs, who had twice attacked Shade on her journey to find the Grand Library and who, after her second defeat, had vowed revenge. And Shade could see she was in no better of a mood at that moment.