by Tam Erskine
Ivy kept a hand over the infant's mouth as she watched the Widow hobble off, pausing to gaze into the shadows every few steps.
Ivy stayed out of sight a moment longer, gazing down at the child. "Well, little one, I suppose the Widow'd know who to trust."
So, Ivy wound her way through the shadows to the Parson's doorstep. He'd seemed a good man when she'd seen him, though she knew he claimed the fey folk weren't real.
A light rain fell as she stood outside the door, debating. Finally, she set the babe on the Parson's doorstep and rapped on the door until she heard him approach.
Then she hid behind a tree and watched him lift the child in his arms.
"Come out," he called, holding the child gently, though awkwardly. "I'll listen, whatever it is." He waited, and then called again, "I'll leave the latch open, if you decide to come in."
Ivy smiled. He was a good man. Looking up, she saw the Widow, staring open-mouthed at her.
And she fled into the wood, hoping she'd not see the Hunt or anything else.
Jack said nothing at first. He wasn't sure what to think. His parents were probably dead; the Parson was chosen by sheer chance. It wasn't as if everything he'd thought or wondered was untrue, but it wasn't altogether true either.
He rested his forehead on Ivy's shoulder. "Later, when I'm able, can I ask more?"
"Yes," she whispered, turning her head so her cheek brushed his forehead. "I tried. Truly I did."
"I know." He didn't move, taking comfort in her friendship for a moment. "And when I'm able, I'll tell you--without saying 'thank you'--how much it means."
He felt her brief nod before she turned back to watching the path.
And they continued in silence.
Chapter 9: In which the Bollynoggins appear
Daisy had kept herself--and her sisters--well out of sight while Ivy and Jack talked. From the cover of trees, she waited patiently. Beside her, Clematis danced down the limb, stabbing the air with that infernal dagger.
Repressing a sigh, Daisy looked back at Ivy and Jack. It was good for them to reveal their truths and worries. Trust would vanish with secrets untold.
"Are we going?" Jonquil cuddled a tree-frog, stroking the poisonous skin with a comfort that few in the realm would dare. After so many exposures to toxins, she seemed immune to most everything.
Seeing as the conversation had stopped, Daisy nodded. "Let's."
Clematis stepped off the branch, wings stilled, falling through the air. Then, at the last possible moment she flapped her wings rapidly.
"Looks fun, don't you think?" Jonquil had her back turned as she settled the poisonous frog on the branch.
"No, I don't.” Daisy shook her head. “She's a terror."
Jonquil wiped her hands on several leaves, smearing poison evenly over the pale green surfaces; then, she folded those poison-covered leaves into tiny pouches and tucked them in her pockets. "She's not as foolhardy as she pretends."
With a grin, Jonquil stepped forward into thin air, looking entirely too much like their baby sister. But she wasn't even halfway down when a great white egret swooped beneath her.
With a loud war whoop, two stocky Bollynoggins standing on the bird's back grabbed Jonquil in their arms. Their strangely muscular bodies twisted as they settled her between them. "Daisy? Are you riding with us?"
"As you're here, I don't suppose there's a choice."
In perfect synchronicity, the Bollynoggins winked. A third Bollynoggin, Hagan, steered the egret right up under the limb. It slowed down, and Hagan grinningly offered, "I could lasso you."
Daisy stepped forward, using her wings to glide towards the bird. "I could sic my sister on you."
"Hey, Matty, she thinks you're a match for us." Then, with their usual enthusiasm, two Bollynoggins wrapped arms around her and tugged her on the bird's back. "Hold tight."
At a word from the driver, the bird sped up.
"No fair!" Clematis buzzed alongside the bird, straining to keep up and failing quickly.
The Bollynoggins laughed, lilting piping sounds like swamp-insects. One of them pointed to the ground. "Grams thought you'd like a more stylish model."
Below them, a vibrant green serpent waited. A tiny bridle went over the snake's head; attached to it were woven reins.
Clematis shrieked as she plummeted downward again. "I can ride her?"
Hagan snorted. "You can try."
Jack looked up as an egret swooped by. On its back were Daisy, Jonquil, and several tiny creatures that seemed to be howling.
He nudged Ivy and pointed. "Are they snatching the Ellyllon or giving them a ride?"
Ivy shook her head. "Despite how much Daisy will complain later, the Bollynoggins mean no harm." She called out, "Shall we follow?"
The Bollynoggins circled back on their egret, landing on a hedge along the path.
A small green man, who was clad in bark armor and a moss vest, bowed briefly. "Grandmother Nogs sends greetings, Princess, but she'd like to talk to the Ellyllon in private."
Though they hadn't spoken, all three Bollynoggins had glanced at him, so Jack bowed his head briefly. "Only if Daisy and Jonquil are fine with it."
Jonquil opened her mouth to answer, but a Bollynoggin quickly clamped a hand over her mouth. Another did the same with Daisy.
The Bollynoggins exchanged grins, looking fierce despite their size. "And what if they aren't?"
"Well, then, I suppose it'll go poorly for you." Jack offered them the most unpleasant smile he could. "No one will hurt the Ellyllon."
Daisy stepped on the Bollynoggin's foot, and he let go of her.
She sighed. "We're quite fine with this lot, Jack Merry. Despite their manners--"
“We have manners, Hagan!” One of the Bollynoggins interrupted. “Do you hear her? Manners."
Jonquil nudged a Bollynoggin in the ribs. "Sorry, Ivy. We'll catch up before you reach the moat."
"It’s all good, Jack." Clematis--standing on the back of a serpent, holding tiny reins in her hand--waved cheerily.
As Jack gaped, the serpent sped off with Clematis on its back.
The Bollynoggins on the egret let out a series of bird-like wails. "Come on, faster. Matty's going to beat us if this is all the faster we're going . . ."
And as Jack watched, the bird took flight again with the Ellyllon and Bollynoggins swaying on its back.
Ivy laughed at the truly befuddled expression on Jack's face. It was a fine improvement over the sorrowful look he'd been wearing earlier. "The Bollynoggins are good folk, Jack, and Grandmother Nogs loves the Ellyllon as if they were her own."
"She was riding a snake. And the Bollynoggins . . ." He shook his head. "Even those things that seem harmless don't seem very nice."
She thought on it for a moment; she could see where he'd think that. "It's not that the folk aren't 'nice,' just perhaps things aren't as clear here as they are above-ground."
"Daisy didn't look happy." He looked in the direction they'd gone, worry clear on his face.
"Daisy's happier with the Bollynoggins than she'll admit. They make her laugh; they make her do truly foolish things. It's good for her."
"What if there's a hound or what if your sister . . ."
Ivy turned to look at him. "They're safer with the Bollynoggins than with us. Ada doesn't consider them as a threat." She smiled, glad the Ellyllon would get a rest before they reached the Queen's presence. "And Grandmother Nogs won't let them come to any harm. We'll see them when we wake."
After a moment he nodded; then he frowned. "Where will we sleep?"
Ivy could hear the faint sounds of the town ahead of them. She was loath to admit it to Jack, but she was far from sure they'd be welcome. As she mused on it, she suspected Grandmother Nogs had come to the same realization. "Pwca Vale is just ahead. Ada will've passed this way, but she's not the only daughter of the court."
"Should we expect much trouble?"
"That, Jack Merry, is quite a good question." Returning her attention
to the path, she watched with growing fear as they came closer to Pwca Vale. "One never knows, not here."
As they entered Pwca Vale, Jack thought yet again of how truly unprepared he was for the sheer scope of Ivy's world. Without the Ellyllon and their ready answers, he was left all too aware that there was no way to tell friend from foe, normal behavior from threatening.
A lanky creature sauntered by on legs that seemed to spring and stretch like they had no bones in them. It grinned, or perhaps scowled. Not knowing what was best, Jack aimed to look somber.
Everywhere he looked vines hung down like invitations to climb, and from among the leaves tiny pink-eyed creatures flashed feral smiles. Overhead, birds that looked familiar mingled with winged things that he'd no words to even describe--like giant slugs with a clear shell over top so that their innards showed.
Through it all, Ivy kept her back straight and her fingers on the hilt of her sword.
"Stay close when we stop." Ivy's voice was a strained whisper, punctuated by her somber replies to the creatures' myriad calls of, "Be welcome, Princess."
"Right. Close." Jack watched as a small cluster of goat-legged women stamped their hooves as Ivy called out greetings to them. "Anything else?"
She glanced toward the hooved women and in a low voice said, "Hope the Glaistigs aren't quarrelsome and that my status is enough that Ada's spies don't act outright."
The goat-women hadn't looked away. They stared and spoke amongst themselves all the while. Various weapons decorated their costumes--curved blades and heavy cudgels. Even without the weapons, they were daunting--muscular and menacing--and strangely appealing. Several flashed smiles at him, acknowledging his perusal. Jack looked away and repressed a shiver at the idea of Ivy's fighting them. "Is anyone here friendly?"
Ivy didn't answer. She lifted a hand in greeting to a deer with the face of a man. He didn't respond. "If the Vale has become . . . untenable for us, the best we can hope is that we've enough allies to stall our enemies."
She continued to answer greetings, curtseys, and bows, but she kept her eyes as watchful as when they'd crossed the Twitches' tunnel.
Jack leant forward so his mouth was near her ear. "Is it wise to stop here?"
"We don't have much choice. We need to rest, and there's nowhere else near that'd be any safer." She stopped the water-horse in front of another immense tree. Lichens stuck out in a spiral pattern, like steps that'd grown by chance.
Looking back at him, Ivy offered a small smile and murmured, "Slide down first, Jack Merry."
Silently, he complied.
"If you would . . ." She handed him her sword, hilt-first so her fingers slid along the steel blade. Her skin reddened, and she held her hand out so as anyone could see the ugly burn.
And Jack was sure they did see it. A rather emaciated man grinned and nodded his head, another creature with scaled wings and glinting talons hissed--perhaps in empathy, perhaps in hunger.
"My pleasure." Jack held out his free hand to Ivy. He closed his eyes briefly and lifted his voice. "And with as little time as it took to draw a breath, the princess' hand was healed once more."
He opened his eyes and winked at her.
Her eyes widened in surprise, but only for a fraction of a moment. Then she took his hand and was on the ground beside him, holding her now-healed hand out for her sword.
From the looks they were receiving, Jack suspected the murmured conversations weren't all friendly ones. He slid the hilt into her waiting grasp. "I am at your command, my lady."
With one of those eerie laughs, Ivy moved in front of him. "Indeed, Jack Merry?"
“Indeed." He kept his false smile in place as he followed her through the crowd. "At your word and your side.”
As the egret neared Grandmother Nogs' Swamp, the Bollynoggins yelled, "Incoming!"
Two brothers each wrapped strong arms round Jonquil and Daisy and leapt from the egret's back.
As they hurtled towards the boggy water, Jonquil heard Daisy shriek and spout several creative threats. Not far above the water, but with still enough time to avoid getting wet, Hagan let go. "Flap away, girlie."
She angled up as he splashed into the water.
Daisy zipped over, scowling fiercely, hands on her hips. "The whole colony is filled with menaces! As if Clematis wasn't headache enough . . ."
Hagan surfaced with a loud whoop. Floating on his back, he stared up at her.
Biting her cheek to keep from laughing, Jonquil waited.
Predictable to a fault, Daisy announced, "Hmph! Infants have more sense than you, Hagan Nogs!"
Hagan merely grinned and kicked his feet in the water.
"Daisy . . ." Jonquil pointed to the shore where Clematis had just stopped her racing snake.
But Daisy took no notice. She zipped down to the surface. "Do you hear me? One of these times . . ."
"I missed you." Hagan reached up and wrapped his arms around Daisy's middle; laughing, he pulled her into the water. "Even your scowling face."
When Daisy resurfaced, she was still berating him, but her eyes were twinkling.
Jonquil couldn't help it: she laughed at the bedraggled pair. "I'll see to Clematis."
"I'll come." Daisy struggled to get free of Hagan's grasp, smacking his arm lightly. Strands of bog-grass tangled in Daisy's hair and brown water sluiced off her face. "We should see what Grandmother Nogs wants."
"Stay." Jonquil smiled gently at her. Hagan's foolishness never failed to cheer Daisy. "We'll all sit down and talk after eating."
Still, Daisy started to protest, "But . . ."
Grinning, Hagan shoved her under water again. "We'll be up soon."
As Jonquil touched down on the spongy shore, Grandmother Nogs stepped into view. Her patterned green skin and brown tufted hair made her hard to spot unless she chose to be seen. "Matty. Jonquil. Good of you to come see me."
Jonquil curtseyed. "Daisy is with us."
"I expected so." She smiled, a quick flash of softness as she looked over the swamp. "Hagan's been worse than a swarm of nettle-bees since I said you'd be by. Boy makes me tired." She looked up and nodded at one of her boys.
He rolled out a length of woven swamp-grass in front of her. After bowing to Grandmother Nogs and to Eamon, the captain of the guard, the young Bollynoggin left.
Grandmother Nogs settled her considerable girth on the horned toad that always followed her and crossed her ankles delicately. "We'll sit here where I can see Daisy too."
Jonquil sat down on the woven grass, listening to Eamon issue orders to the retinue of bodyguards. Six of the Bollynoggins--armed with bows and a good supply of cactus-spike arrows--crept into the marshy weeds.
"Arth tells me you want a longbow, Matty." Grandmother Nogs rarely wasted time on trivial talk. She made approving noises deep in her throat. "Longbow's a good choice for you. I watched your practice with the other tools. You're too slight for the mace."
"Yes, Grandmother Nogs." Clematis plopped down next to Jonquil on the swamp-grass.
Jonquil stretched, twisting her arms out behind her and rolling her shoulders, and waited.
Grandmother Nogs tapped a hand on the toad's bumpy head. "The dagger's nice, but you still need to be so close. What do you think?"
"I think keeping Clematis out of close combat would ease Daisy's nerves." Jonquil pretended not to hear Clematis' snort. Her sister might be irritated, but she'd not speak out of turn with Grandmother Nogs. "And I think she'd benefit from the need for focus in using the bow."
"You're as clever as always." Grandmother Nogs gazed out over her swamp. "It's a good skill to have. Yes, indeed." She sighed as she sat and stared. "Troubles come towards you."
"With sisters like mine, trouble's common enough." Jonquil wrinkled her nose at Clematis.
Grandmother Nogs sighed like music flowing through hollow logs. "I well remember, but it's not your sisters that started this trouble, is it? You forget how much I see."
Jonquil held Grandmother Nogs' gaze. "
I still say I am right in my path. Things need changing."
With wide eyes, Clematis looked back and forth between Jonquil and Grandmother Nogs.
With a barely perceptible rise in her voice, Grandmother Nogs asked the question she'd been asking since Jonquil had told Ivy the legends, "Are you still willing to risk so much?"
Standing up, Jonquil moved in front of Grandmother Nogs and held out her hands. "If I didn't try, what risk then?" She took those swamp-slick hands in her own. "I've not forgotten any of the legends. If we don't do this, what might we lose?"
Grandmother Nogs stood up. "I'll think on it. From the murmurs I hear, it's a decision that needs made soon. I'm not happy about it. Not at all." Then, Grandmother Nogs let go of Jonquil's hands and made a signal in the air.
Soundless as always, the guards surrounded them again.
"I'll send the boys to fetch you for the meal. You'll have my answer then." Grandmother Nogs turned to Clematis. "Come, Matty. We'll have Eamon take you to the shop. Jonquil is quite right on this at least: a longbow is a fine choice."
Ignoring Clematis' beseeching look, Jonquil curtseyed to the Bog Mother. "Until then."
Chapter 10: In which revolutions are hinted at
Ivy tried not to flinch as Jorge came nearer. Not because of his red teeth or even the ominous axe on his stump-table, no, it was his moods that made her tense: Jorge was unpredictable on his best days.
"Princess." He spat to the side, sniffled a little, and glared at Jack. "What business bring you here?"
"I'm going to see the Queen, my Mother." She nudged Jack further behind her. The nearest vine-gnarlers were too far to reach him; the Glaistigs were still keeping their distance. For now, behind her was safest. "I am set for the Queen's presence."
"The Queen's Own came through not long ago." He squinted, opened and closed his mouth a few times, and finally made a choking noise in his throat. His scaled feet made scuffling noises as he trod on the wooden platform in front of his lodging tree. "Queen's Own she is."
