Bloody Fairies (Shadow)

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Bloody Fairies (Shadow) Page 14

by Nina Smith


  Ana gave them both a dirty look. “Shh.”

  Clockwork rolled his eyes, put a finger to his lips and pretended to choke himself.

  Hippy couldn’t hold it in any longer. The laugh exploded from her chest in a strangled snort. Once it started, she couldn’t stop. Then Clockwork started too, which was doubly funny.

  “For Shadow’s sake!” Ana slammed her book down. “What are the two of you laughing at? Aren’t you meant to be mortal enemies?”

  Both fairies laughed harder.

  “Fitz!” Ana yelled. “I’m going to strangle the fairies!”

  The van pulled over to the side of the road and crunched to a halt on a gravel shoulder. Fitz climbed into the back of the van. “You drive Ana,” he said. “I could use a break anyway.”

  “Good luck getting a break with these two.” Ana climbed into the driver’s seat. The van skidded over the gravel, fishtailed down the road and then straightened at a considerably faster speed than Fitz had been driving at.

  “Hippy. Clockwork.” Fitz sat on the floor between them. “Now that you’ve decided to get along, how about we have a little talk?

  The effect of his voice was instant. Hippy and Clockwork both stopped giggling and paid attention. Hippy had no idea why, except that he seemed very calm. Maybe calm was contagious.

  “That’s better.” The barest smile dimpled Fitz’s cheeks.

  “We’re not getting along.” Clockwork’s mouth settled in a sulky pout.

  “Are you really a forest person?” Hippy couldn’t help asking. She could see the grey, ragged hooves peeping out beneath Fitz’s pant legs.

  “Yes I am.” Fitz smiled at her. “I am Fitz Falls of the Fish-Tailed Green Dragon Dancer Tribe.”

  Hippy blinked. “Long name.”

  “It’s not my real one,” Fitz said. “Just in case you get any ideas.”

  “Did you shoot an arrow at my head when I was outside the fortifications?”

  “No.” Fitz gave her a level, measuring look. “I shot it at the tree. The idea was to scare you off what you were doing. Obviously it didn’t work.”

  “But how would you know what I was doing?” Hippy frowned and made an effort to put it all together. “You were the one I saw in the forest, standing under the tree-”

  “Yes.” Fitz’s reply was patient.

  “Then someone hit me over the head. But it wasn’t you.” Hippy blinked. “Ana hit me over the head?”

  “To my deep regret,” Fitz said. “Considering she pitched you at the feet of the pretender king and set you on your current course.”

  “The who?”

  “The pretender.” Clockwork plucked at threads on his shirt. “The so-called muse king.”

  Hippy folded her arms. “What’s he pretending, then?”

  Fitz and Clockwork glanced at each other. They both shrugged.

  “Well?” Hippy demanded.

  “It’s a long story,” Fitz said.

  “Is it a story with shiny things in it?”

  “Not really.”

  Hippy shrugged. “Boring.” She studied her fingernails. There was dried blood encrusted under them. Ew. “Where are we going?”

  Another silence. Then Fitz spoke, his voice low. “We’re taking you home.”

  The van screeched to a halt beside the road. Ana leaned around the seat. “Home?” she yelled. “What do you mean? We can’t take her home! That’s not part of the plan!”

  “Ana,” Fitz said. “Keep driving.”

  Ana muttered under her breath. The van pulled back onto the road.

  “I don’t want to go home,” Hippy said. “I like it here in Dream.”

  Fitz glanced at Clockwork and raised an eyebrow.

  Clockwork shook his head vigorously. “No way,” he said. “My dad would never allow it. Even I’m only here on trial.”

  Hippy pretended to ignore them while she cleaned the blood from her fingernails.

  Fitz sighed. “Look Hippy, I’m sorry, but I don’t see any other choice. You shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t have brought you. You’ll be much safer with your family than with Pierus.”

  “My family are under siege from an army of vamps so vast they stretch as far as the eye can see.” Hippy tried to make her voice calm, like Fitz’s, in the hopes of making him see sense.

  “You will suffer less at the hands of that army then you will with the muse king.”

  “You don’t understand. Pierus and I are on a mission. The only way to drive back the vamps is with the Apple of Chaos and he needs me to do it.”

  Clockwork made an impatient noise. “Do you know we thought the Apple was safe because no fairy would ever agree to help him?”

  Hippy set her jaw. “It’s your home too that’s under threat. Where do you think they’ll go when they’ve drained every Bloody Fairy dry? Quicksilver Forest, that’s where! Why won’t you help us?”

  “Because the price is too high.” Fitz’s voice was hard.

  Hippy grimaced. “No need to get all twitchy.”

  Fitz wiped sweat from his forehead and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just find it frustrating that you won’t understand.”

  “Of course she won’t,” Clockwork said. “He did that thing you warned us about.” He wiggled his fingers at Hippy. “He voodooed you.”

  “He did what?”

  Fitz put his face in his hands for a minute, thinking. Finally, he sat up straight. “I need you to listen to me carefully.”

  “Okay.” Hippy wondered what Fluffy Ducky was doing, and if he’d found any shiny webs to play in.

  “We are members of the Invisible Army.”

  Hippy shrugged. “Pierus told me all about that.” She thought for a minute. “How many of you are there?”

  “We are legion,” Fitz said.

  Clockwork snorted. “A legion of four.”

  Fitz gave him a look. “Fine, there are four of us. We watch the muse king, Hippy. We’ve been watching him for generations, ever since our forefathers noticed something was off about him.”

  “You have four fathers?”

  “Pay attention.” Fitz knitted his fingers together. “Tell me, has he told you the great lie yet?”

  “What great lie?”

  “That if he dies, so does Shadow.”

  “Yes, he told me that.”

  Fitz leaned forward. “In the beginning, when Shadow was new and the muses had just discovered their immortality, he told the same story. My ancestor heard it. He talked to the other muses. They said it was rubbish, to be blunt. But then, one by one, those muses met with fatal accidents. Every original muse, except Pierus. The children were raised to eat up his lies. The parents were murdered.”

  Hippy frowned, troubled by this. “Murdered by vamps?”

  Fitz sighed. “No, I don’t believe so. All I know is from that time my ancestors watched Pierus to see what he would do. For many centuries he did what he claimed was his task. He kept the citizens of Shadow safe. He carved out areas for the many tribes to live. But then he got bored. He found ways to return to Dream and interfere in human affairs. He stirred up wars and inspired darker and darker things into our world. Then he inspired a bomb. A bomb so big it killed millions of humans.” Fitz splayed his fingers and mimed an explosion.

  Hippy folded her arms and leaned back into the wall. She tried to ignore the growing discomfort Fitz’s words caused. “My dad told that story way better than you.”

  Fitz fixed her with an unwavering stare. “Did he tell you what the Apple of Chaos would do in the wrong hands?”

  “He didn’t know about the Apple.”

  “You must understand, Hippy, the Apple of Chaos is ancient magic the likes of which you and I cannot comprehend, but we know this much: it cannot be destroyed. Even in pieces, it generates power. It allows those who wish it to pass through the barrier between Dream and Shadow, if used correctly. But if it is used to hold a doorway open for too long, then the two worlds will collapse into each other and
the darkness will overwhelm both. Shadow will disappear and Dream will be devastated by ancient nightmares.”

  Hippy shrugged. “He doesn’t need it for a doorway. Anyway, he wouldn’t do that.”

  “But what would he do, given free rein?”

  “Drive back the vamps.”

  “And then?”

  Hippy looked into Fitz’s eyes and saw herself reflected there. It called to me, Pierus had said. The most potent power known to man.

  “I can see by the look in your eyes you have an inkling,” Fitz said. “You are not completely lost.”

  Hippy snapped back to herself. “I’m not lost at all. He said you’d do this. He said you’d try and turn me against him.” She returned her attention to her fingernails, only to find her hands were shaking.

  “That’s not why you’re here,” Fitz said.

  “Then why? I was just starting to have fun when you turned up, you know.”

  “I made it my business to study the ancient magic Pierus learned,” Fitz said. “We were watching. I saw what he did to the new vampires. I hoped he would be so exhausted we could take him back to Shadow unconscious and trap him there. But then you went to him.”

  Hippy shuddered. The thought of that still made her fingers and toes go cold. But then he’d said he loved her. Didn’t that make it better?

  “He stole your energy,” Fitz said, “Just like a vampire would steal your blood.”

  Hippy tried to ignore the words, but he was merciless.

  “When he stole your energy, he linked you to him,” Fitz said. “He does that. How do you think he commands such loyalty from the other muses? He possesses something of them, and now of you. He can sense you. He can follow you. He will use it to manipulate you. You would have been lost forever had we not intervened.”

  Hippy felt queasy. “But-but he wouldn’t,” she said in a small voice. “He loves me.” Her face burned as soon as she’d said the words, because of the look Fitz and Clockwork exchanged.

  “It’s too late,” Clockwork said. “You weren’t in time. Maybe we should just pitch her out of the van and return to plan A.”

  “No.” Fitz continued to scrutinise Hippy. “No, there’s still a chance. Your father may be able to talk some sense into her before they come.”

  Clockwork chortled. “Good luck there.” He grinned at Hippy. “My dad eats Bloody Fairies for breakfast.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Enormous wrought iron gates swung inwards at the approach of the van. Hippy pressed up against the window and wondered how they moved all by themselves. The gates were so pretty. The iron bent, twisted and curled in graceful patterns, framing three big stars, each with nine sharp silver points.

  Ana drove the van down a long, winding driveway, through tall trees, neatly trimmed hedges and gardens planted with masses of bright yellow and orange flowers. Hippy glimpsed a shiny blue bird wandering the gardens. It was half as high as her and had a long sweeping tail that looked like it was made up of hundreds of tiny eyes. “What’s that?” she asked, startled.

  Clockwork peered out of the window. “Oh, that’s Ralph.”

  “That’s a Ralph?”

  “No, it’s Ralph the peacock. My dad likes to collect his tail feathers when they fall out. He says it makes people feel like they’re being watched, so they behave in his house. He’s smart like that.” Clockwork grabbed onto the back of the seat to keep from sliding when the van screeched to a halt. “We’re here!”

  “I noticed.” Hippy, who had lost her grip and landed on the floor, scowled.

  Fitz opened the back doors and hopped out. “It’s alright Hippy,” he said. “You have nothing to fear here.”

  “Except my dad,” Clockwork hissed in her ear.

  Hippy gulped and climbed out into the sunlight. She might have had nothing to fear, but she didn’t miss the fact her three new companions formed a tight group around her. Not one of them actually laid a hand on her, but she had a good idea if she ran that would change pretty quickly.

  They went straight up the driveway to the towering house that sprawled before them, as wide as a whole street would have been back in Athens. Balconies with white wrought iron railings fanned gracefully from all of the upper floor windows. Mirrored tiles embedded in the dark brown bricks between every window and balcony made the whole house sparkle. Looming from the corner of the sweeping stairs at the front was a six foot tall statue of a woman wearing nothing but her hair, standing in a big shell and looking into a mirror.

  You just look for the biggest, most ostentatious, ugliest place you can find, Pierus said in her head.

  Hippy sighed. Those had been her words, not his, but she could hear him clear as day. Actually she kind of liked the house. It was shiny. She looked askance at the naked lady when they climbed the gleaming white marble steps, then studied the imposing double doors. On them was a big brass knocker shaped like a dragon’s head with huge teeth. The eyes were made of gleaming stones that watched every step she took. The knocker itself was an iron ring that extended just below the teeth.

  She put her hands behind her back. She wouldn’t have touched that in a million years. Just in case.

  Fitz lifted the knocker and gave two sharp strikes with it. The thumps echoed inside. When he pushed, the door opened silently and they all went in.

  Hippy stared at the polished floors, the huge crystal chandelier, the winding stairs. The walls were lined with paintings in ornate brass frames depicting all kinds of things, from tiny little girls with wings to grim-faced humans in stiff dresses and lacy collars.

  “See that?” Clockwork pointed at one of the winged girls. “That’s what humans think of when they talk about fairies.”

  Hippy studied them. “They’re kind of pretty.”

  “Come on.” Fitz went through a door over which was set two crossed golden swords attached to a silver shield. They walked down a long hall where every inch of space was covered with shimmering tapestries and shiny cloth stitched with the most intricate water-like patterns. Ana prodded Hippy in the back every time she slowed down to stare at something new.

  Fitz finally stopped in front of a closed door with a big brass handle. He paused and frowned at Hippy.

  She narrowed her eyes. “What?”

  “I think the word he’s looking for is behave,” Ana said. “Nicely.”

  “Or else,” Clockwork said in her ear. He drew a hand across his neck.

  “My dad would drop your dad off the fortifications,” Hippy hissed.

  “Wanna bet? My dad would break his nose before they were halfway up.”

  Fitz turned a pained expression on them both. “Would you two shut up for five minutes? Hippy, you have nothing to fear. Just answer any questions Mr Silver puts to you and try not to say anything else.”

  Hippy made a face at Clockwork. “Mr Silver?” she hissed.

  Ana tapped her on the back of the head. “Weren’t you just told to shut up?”

  Fitz rapped on the door, then pushed it open. He took a firm grip of Hippy’s shoulder and guided her inside. The other two followed.

  Inside, a huge fire crackled in one corner, adding a bright orange glow to electric lights that were muted by coloured glass lightshades. Here, too, every inch of the wall was covered, but not with shiny things or artwork. Instead there were pieces of paper with writing scribbled over them, some in pictograms, some in the letters she’d seen in Athens, some in other letters altogether. There were maps of Dream and maps of Athens and maps of somewhere called Greece. There were sketches, too. When she looked closer, she realised one of them was of Nikifor. Her eyes widened. She found another one that looked like Flower. There was a detailed sketch of Pierus, with notes made in letters all around it. There was a very new-looking sketch of Poppy and under that one of herself marked with red words under the picture. She pointed. “What does that say?”

  Fitz scowled at her and shook his head.

  Silence descended. A chair scraped the floor at the other end
of the room, where a big heavy desk was strewn with papers and lit only by a single electric lamp.

  Once her eyes adjusted to the shadows, Hippy made out a man standing there watching them. She gulped and wished Clockwork hadn’t spent so much time trying to freak her out.

  Mr Silver went around the desk and walked towards them. He was tall for a fairy. He could have measured over five foot. Long black hair decorated with only one plait and a bead framed a face with wide cheekbones and a square jaw. A streak of grey went from one temple to his shoulder. Apart from the hair, he wasn’t like any fairy she’d ever seen. He looked more serious than a muse about to walk into a pit of fairy dust. He looked hard, too, as though he’d been fighting for a very long time and had no idea how to stop.

  When he looked down on Hippy, his heavy eyebrows drew together. “What’s this?”

  “A Bloody Fairy, Mr Silver,” Fitz said.

  “I know it’s a Bloody Fairy. Why is it in my house?”

  Hippy scowled. She didn’t much like being referred to as `it.’

  “She was in danger,” Fitz said. “I couldn’t leave her in his hands.”

  “I wasn’t in danger,” Hippy burst out. “I was perfectly alright. You kid-” she trailed off when Mr Silver’s gaze fell on her. “Hello,” she finished, in a small voice. “I’m Hippy Ishtar.”

  Mr Silver studied her closely. “Who are your parents?”

  “Willow and Leaf Ishtar.”

  “The only two Bloody Fairies I know of who come close to being remotely sensible. What were they thinking letting you come here?”

  “They didn’t exactly know,” Hippy said.

  Mr Silver raised an eyebrow. The effect was enough to make Hippy’s cheeks burn scarlet. “What were you thinking?”

  Hippy straightened her back. “The vamps were about to overwhelm us. There was an opportunity to find something that would drive them back. I took it.”

  “You mean you ran off with the muse king to help him find the Apple of Chaos.”

  “Well, sort of.”

  The eyebrow went up again.

  Hippy looked at her feet. “Yes,” she mumbled.

  “And what made you think anything he told you was the truth?”

 

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