Bloody Fairies (Shadow)

by Nina Smith

  “One of many reasons.”

  “It puzzled me when he was so determined to take you with him rather than return you to your family. I understand now.”

  “Tell me what to do.” Hippy glanced nervously over her shoulder. “How do I tell him?”

  “Honey just tell him,” Flower said. “You’re not afraid, are you?”

  Hippy opened her mouth, but couldn’t find the words to explain to Flower exactly how terrified she was. Or what she had to do before it became obvious she was pregnant. If he knew anything about fairies at all he would guess by the end of the week, and she didn’t even know what he’d done with the Apple of Chaos.

  “Just tell him.” Flower’s voice was firm. “Everything will be fine. Pierus is a great king, I’m sure he’ll be a wonderful father.”

  Hippy bit her tongue. She’d got so used to people who thought Pierus was an ass, as Poppy had so succinctly put it. She’d forgotten the muses worshipped the ground he walked on. She couldn’t talk to Flower. She couldn’t talk to anyone. She was completely on her own.

  “Tell him,” Flower repeated, as though she’d argued.

  “Tell him what?” Pierus ducked his head to enter the tent at that moment.

  “I’ll leave you two to talk.” Flower backed out and left.

  Pierus looked down on Hippy as though she were an angry snake in a corner. “Are you quite finished hitting me?”

  Hippy nodded. He took up all the space in the tent. She wanted to back away, but now was not the time to set a precedent like that. There was a horrible icky feeling in the pit of her stomach. What if Flower was right and he was a good king? What if Mr Silver was right and he was just all bad?

  Pierus took her hand. His voice gentled. “They banished you?”

  “They said I had to repudiate you or leave forever.”

  He gave a short, sharp laugh. “My, that’s a big word for a pack of fairies.”

  Hippy moved away. “That’s all you have to say? Maybe I’ll go back and tell them I changed my mind!”

  “I’m sorry.” Pierus put a finger under her chin and lifted her face. “You did the right thing, my love. I will never forget that you chose me over your tribe. It means everything.”

  Hippy closed her eyes and rested her face in his hand. Surely Mr Silver was wrong. Surely a man who could look at her like that was good.

  “You have something to tell me,” he said.

  Without opening her eyes, Hippy took his hand and guided it to her belly, where she laid it flat.

  He was still and silent.

  She opened her eyes to find him regarding her with a mixture of curiosity and something cold. It was not a comforting look.

  “A child?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you quite sure? It’s awfully soon to know.”

  “Fairies always know. We have a dream.”

  “I see.”

  “You’ve never encountered a pregnant fairy, have you?”

  “My dear girl, I’ve made a habit of avoiding fairies for thousands of years, so no, I can’t say I have.”

  Hippy scowled. “If that’s all you’ve got to say, I’m going home.”

  “No, you’re not.” Pierus put an arm around her shoulder and guided her through the battered, torn camp toward his tent. “Don’t you worry about a thing, my love, I’m going to look after you better than anyone else could.”

  “Really?” Hippy looked at him doubtfully. “Have you ever had a baby before?”

  “I should think not. Always seemed like a dreadfully awkward process.” Pierus pushed aside a tattered curtain and they walked into his tent. Inside was a shambles. He sighed. “What in Shadow happened in here?”

  “I killed some vamps while you set up the door into Dream,” Hippy said. “Remember? I smashed one in the head with that statue there, which was kind of fun. Then Rustam Badora came in.” She paused. “What did you do with him?”

  “He’s in the Gulakh,” Pierus said. “He’ll never find his way out of there without my express permission.”

  Hippy shuddered. No fairy liked to hear about Shadow’s most infamous prison, the Gulakh. Sometimes some of her cousins from the Feathertip tribe disappeared into that dark, cold place after assassinating the wrong people. Nobody ever heard from them again.

  Pierus picked up the broken statue and set it on the nearest pedestal. “Tell me about this dream of yours.”

  Hippy kicked some rubble on the floor into a pile. “All fairies have the dream when they get pregnant,” she said. “The child visits you.”

  “How do you know it’s your child?”

  “She called me Mum. It was pretty obvious.”

  “She?”

  Something in Pierus’s voice made Hippy stop and look over at him. She scowled. “Yeah, she. What about it?”

  “What did she look like?”

  Hippy studied his profile. Definitely. Definitely Mr Silver was right. She should find the Apple of Chaos, steal it and run. A dart of panic went through her. Run where? Mr Silver hadn’t said what she should do after upsetting the most powerful muse in Shadow.

  “Hippy?” his voice took on an edge. “What did she look like?”

  “Who?”

  “The girl.”

  “Girl? You mean our daughter?” Hippy picked a curtain up off the floor, considered it and dropped it again. Cleaning up really wasn’t her thing. “She looked like any other fairy baby. Small. Fat.” There, the lie rolled off her tongue as easy as that. She stepped around the curtain and poked at a head broken off a statue with her toe.

  “What colour was her hair?”

  Hippy glanced at him sidelong. Green. Her hair had been green. That hadn’t struck her as all that strange in the dream, but now it did. Something about it bothered her. Something else she’d seen. “That’s an odd question,” she said. “Babies don’t generally have hair.”

  “Of course not.” Pierus picked up the spear she’d used to hold off Rustam Badora and propped it against one wall. He brushed debris from the table and neatly rolled up the map that still lay there. “My dear girl, perhaps you would be so good as to help me pack some of these things up, rather than picking them up and dropping them. We leave within two hours.”

  Hippy sighed. She’d known they’d be leaving. The muses wouldn’t stay now the vamps were gone. She’d be far, far from her family for a long time. “Where are we going?”

  “To my home.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Beyond the forest.”

  Hippy paused in the act of prodding at a gas lamp to see if it would pack itself into something. “The forest?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t like the forest.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s all dark and full of trees.”

  “I thought fairies liked trees?”

  “Yes, trees are fine, but forests are not.”

  Pierus took a deep, patient breath. “You will have nothing to fear in the forest. You will be with me.”

  “Well that’s comforting. The forest people like you even less than they like fairies.”

  Pierus left his organising and moved across the tent. He put his hands on Hippy’s shoulders, pushed her into a chair and stood over her. “I do believe the so-called Invisible Army filled your head with all sorts of fantastical stories while they had you under their sway.” His voice was soft and just the tiniest bit menacing. He looked right into her eyes. Hippy couldn’t tear herself away. She clenched her fists so tight her nails dug into her palms. Any moment she would be swept under by something she didn’t understand, his voice, his eyes, the way everything dropped away until there was nothing left but darkness waiting to suck her in.

  “You need to forget all that,” Pierus said. “You’re with me now, not them. You trust me, don’t you?”

  It was pretty hard to argue with that piercing glare. “I–I guess.”

  He dropped into a crouch and placed his hands on her wrists. “No. You don’t gu
ess. There is no room for uncertainty. If you are with me, then you trust me and you are guided by me. I am your protector. I am the one keeping you and the child safe. Do you understand?”

  Hippy nodded.

  “Tell me you trust me.”

  “I trust you.” She gripped the edges of the chair so hard her knuckles turned white.

  “Good girl.” Pierus leaned in and brushed her lips with his. “Now go, before you break something. Find Nikifor and tell him to prepare for a journey.” He moved back to the table and busied himself.

  Hippy scrambled out of the chair, left the tent and gulped fresh air outside, ignoring the curious stares of the other muses, themselves all making ready to leave. She hurried across the camp and hid herself between two tents where she could be alone, then jumped up and down and madly brushed down her skin and clothes trying to rid herself of the icky feeling Pierus had just left her with.

  It didn’t work. She stopped, crouched and buried her head in her hands. Bad. He was definitely bad. She knew it because she knew if she hadn’t fought what he just did with every fibre of her being, she’d have been swept under like a fish in a tidal wave. She had a horrible feeling it wasn’t even the first time he’d done it to her.

  She took a few deep breaths to calm herself and wondered if this was what Pandora had run away from.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Hippy sat on the back of a cart and watched the ruins of the fortifications dwindle into the distance. There went her family, her life, her home.

  Behind her, Nikifor was piled under the big domed roof along with boxes and boxes of Pierus’s things. His skin was the colour of the clouds overhead; if it hadn’t been full daylight, she’d have taken him for a vamp. Pierus rode at the front, holding the reins of the two sleepy-looking donkeys pulling them along. The cart swayed on every bend and corner as though it would topple over and take them all with it.

  She watched everything she knew disappear with dry eyes. Some little part of her had hoped the fairies would change their minds. Someone would come running after her and find a way to make her stay. But nobody had. Not one fairy even left the camp to wave goodbye. And why would they? She’d rejected them in favour of a muse.

  She sniffed loudly. She’d been doing that ever since Pierus told her Flower wasn’t coming with them, he needed her in Shadow City. The sound didn’t seem to bother him though, sitting all the way up the other end of the cart.

  She gave a disconsolate sigh. They slowly trundled around a bend, and the fortifications disappeared. There, home was gone. She may as well put it out of her mind.

  They slowed to a crawl at a sharp corner. The cart tilted, then landed on all four wheels and rocked. The rutted road wound through the forest like a lost snake. The donkeys plodded on, unconcerned. The wheels turned up clods of mud and flung them out onto the road behind. Ancient fig trees with twisty branches and thick, whispering clusters of leaves pressed in on both sides of the track. Anyone might have been in those branches, watching. She’d have been a lot happier if she’d thought Fitz and Ana were lurking there this time.

  A pebble hit the side of the cart and bounced up near her hand. She scowled and threw it onto the road. Stupid flying pebbles.

  They trundled on. It must have been a whole five minutes by now since they’d entered the forest. She was bored. Nikifor was asleep and talking to Pierus was about as much fun as poking herself in the eye.

  Hippy glanced over her shoulder, disinterested, at the sound of a knock from amongst the boxes. Nikifor had probably bumped something. Pierus certainly hadn’t noticed.

  Fluffy Ducky ran out of his pouch and up her arm. He settled on her head and rested there, quivering.

  Hippy tried to look up at him and almost toppled herself over in the process. “Fluffy Ducky? What’s the matter?”

  Another knock, followed by a rattle.

  Hippy crawled over to the covered section of the cart, shoved Nikifor’s arm out of the way and studied the haphazard stacks of boxes.

  Fluffy Ducky leaped from her head to the top box, scuttled down and came to rest on a small steel box tucked into a corner. It shook underneath him.

  “What is it Fluffy Ducky?” she whispered.

  The box shook again. Fluffy Ducky waved a foreleg at her.

  Hippy reached out very, very, carefully and eased the box free of the pile. She glanced sidelong at Nikifor to make sure he was still asleep. A thin film of sweat covered his upper lip. Wow, he really looked sick.

  Fluffy Ducky clung to the box. His hairs all stood on end.

  Hippy ran her fingers around the edges until she found the catch. She pouted. It was padlocked.

  The box shuddered so violently Fluffy Ducky was thrown off. The movement caused another package to slide off the top of the pile and hit Nikifor in the face.

  Nikifor turned over, buried his head in his hands and snored.

  Hippy suppressed a giggle. She took the tiniest bit of fairy dust from her belt and sprinkled it on the padlock. The metal sparkled, then turned to dust. The catch popped open.

  The box was still. Fluffy Ducky waited, poised, on the pile above it.

  Hippy opened it up. Her eyes widened. The box contained a severed hand, so white and veiny it could only have belonged to a vamp. The little finger twitched.

  Fluffy Ducky pounced. The hand jumped two feet in the air, fingers splayed, and attempted to grab the spider. Fluffy Ducky twisted in mid-air, wrapped all eight legs around the index finger and chomped.

  Hippy squealed with delight. “Go Fluffy Ducky!”

  Nikifor sat bolt upright and stared around in panic. “Vampires!”

  “It’s a vampire hand!” Hippy clapped madly.

  “What’s going on back there?” Pierus pulled sharply on the reins.

  “Fluffy Ducky’s fighting a vamp hand!” Hippy jumped up and down with excitement. The cart rocked.

  Nikifor put out his hands to steady himself. His gaze fixed on the wrestling spider and hand. “What fresh horror is this?” his voice cracked.

  Pierus uttered a whole string of bad words he’d obviously picked up from Poppy, scrambled off his seat and into the cart. “Don’t let it get into the sunlight!”

  Hippy squealed a second time. “Fluffy Ducky it’s allergic to light!”

  The hand convulsed violently and flew from one wall to the other in an attempt to throw off the spider, at the same time evading Pierus’s attempts to grab it. Nikifor pressed himself into a corner and watched the whole thing in horror-struck awe. Maybe this cart ride was going to be fun after all.

  Pierus didn’t sound happy. “Hippy Ishtar, if you don’t control that spider I’m going to squash it. I need that hand.”

  Hippy pouted. “Fluffy Ducky come back!”

  Fluffy Ducky stretched his legs out and wound them around a second finger, strapping the two fingers together. The hand went into a redoubled frenzy. It hit the walls, the roof, smashed into the pile of boxes and sent them tumbling all over the place.

  Hippy shrugged when Pierus glared at her. “He’s busy. He’ll come back when the hand’s dead.”

  A particularly nasty jolt shook the spider free. The hand took swift advantage by curling into a fist that knocked Fluffy Ducky flying.

  “Fluffy Ducky!” Hippy ran after the spider, caught him and teetered on the edge of the cart. When she regained her balance she saw that Pierus had leaped on the hand and was struggling to subdue it.

  “Nikifor the box!” the muse king snapped.

  Nikifor picked up the discarded box and held it at arm’s length. Pierus shoved the hand in there, closed the box, wound a hastily found chain around it and then put it inside a bigger box.

  There was silence in the cart. Outside, a bird cackled. Leaves rustled in the forest.

  “Why do you have a vamp hand?” Hippy asked.

  Pierus breathed heavily from the exertion. His eyebrows gathered like storm clouds. “I need it,” he said. “I need vampire genetics if I am to discover a
way to keep them from returning.”

  “Why is it alive?”

  “Because I preserved it with magic. Dead genetics are no good to me.”

  “What are genetics?”

  “Enough questions.” Pierus pushed his way past the boxes and Nikifor.

  Hippy backed up, but there wasn’t anywhere to go unless she jumped into the mud.

  Pierus grabbed her shoulders and pulled her close. He looked into her eyes in that intense way he had. “You would do well to keep your hands to yourself, Fairy. Do not touch my things. Some of them are very dangerous.”

  Hippy scowled. It was rude of him to call her Fairy like that. She stroked Fluffy Ducky’s back to calm him. “But I’m bored.”

  “Then I suggest you occupy yourself.” He reached into a coat pocket and took something out. “Here. Perhaps this will amuse you.” He opened his hand.

  Hippy’s eyes widened. There in his palm lay a shiny, shiny crystal in the shape of a teardrop.

  Pierus dropped it into her hand. “Do try to behave yourself.” Then he went back to his seat, picked up the reins and started the donkeys walking again.

  Hippy resumed her seat. She held the crystal up and watched the sunlight play in all the tiny little facets. It was a very pretty little thing. It would normally keep her amused for hours, but something bothered her. Maybe it was the way she’d been so neatly manoeuvred into being a nice, cooperative, well-behaved little fairy.

  She closed her hand over the crystal and twisted around. Pierus’s back was to her. Nikifor sat amongst the boxes, awake, staring off into his own little world. Hippy threw the crystal at him. It bounced off his arm and fell amongst the boxes. He flinched, but otherwise didn’t seem to notice.

  She sighed and went back to watching the mud. It would have been so much better if Flower had come too.

  A pebble hit the side of the cart and bounced off. A few seconds later another pebble hit her foot. That stung.

  Hippy scowled and scanned the trees. Nobody there. If she thought for a second someone was throwing rocks at her, she was going to jump off this cart and throw fairy dust at them.