Faerietale

by Stephanie Rabig

  Then the Queen comes to him, and unties the thick ropes around his wrists, and asks him what happened.

  He can't quite say. He can't quite remember. He just knows he traveled here, looking for his baby boy who drifted away, and he doesn't know how to help him anymore. "Too late," he whispers. "I'm too late. I'm late. I'm late!" he says, grinning quickly. "I'm late, I'm the white rabbit."

  "Did you come here alone?" the Queen asks.

  He nods, and the curiosity in her expression gives way to sympathy. "I see."

  "So do I," he says, looking around. The ceiling is tall and blocking out the sky and suddenly he misses the sunshine. "Can we go outside?"

  She blinks, and then smiles. "Of course."

  They walk in the gardens for a while, and he talks about things he remembers and things he doesn't, and she listens. And when he says that he would like to wait to be put to death until tomorrow, if that's all right, because he is quite hungry and this place must have good food, she gives him a startled look and says that he'll be safe. That she'll make sure of it.

  And then the sound of hoofbeats has him turning, and there's a little boy riding toward him, grinning, and a little girl chasing after them. She skids to a stop in front of the Queen, out of breath.

  "Letting your brother play with your birthday present?" the Queen says, smiling down at the little girl. "That's very nice of you."

  "She gave it to me!" the boy says.

  "You did?"

  "Yes," the little girl says, looking away. "I'm sorry, mother. I know you wanted me to like it. But I find horses to be quite boring, really, and he seemed to like it and he's happy. Plus, when he first got on it bucked and threw him into the rosebush and that made me laugh quite a lot so I do like your present. I just like it better when he's on it."

  The Queen stares at the Princess for a long moment, bemused. "You're an odd child, Snow."

  "And I'm on a horse!" the Prince says proudly, beaming at all of them.

  "So what would be not boring?" the Queen asks.

  "A battle camel! I read about them last week and they're quite brilliant!"

  She smiles. "We'll see about that for next year, then. Children, this is . . . this is the White Rabbit. He'll be our guest for a while as he heals. He's a mortal, and went through a Door alone."

  The little girl winces, and reaches up to take his hand. "Are you all right?"

  "Perhaps, perhaps not. Feel perfectly well at the moment. What was I going to . . . oh! Horses don't have to be boring!" he points out. "It all quite depends on your point of view. Or, if you're on a journey, where you decide to go. There was a man . . . he went on quite a fantastic adventure on a horse. He traveled with his best friend, Sancho Panza. And they fought dreadful monsters, and dreamed of wonderful things, and they met an exceptional Princess. Would you like to hear about them?"

  "Yes!" Snow says.

  "Me too!" the Prince says, and then he peers at the grass. "I'm not sure how to get down."

  By the time Wendy realized that something was dreadfully wrong, a young woman was screaming.

  Not just any young woman. One of the Prince's harem.

  "Of all the blasted Doors in all the blasted realms. . ." she muttered.

  "How did you get in here?" one woman asked.

  "I'll get the guards!" said another, running toward the door.

  "Wait," said a third, stopping her. "Shouldn't we see if they're a danger first before we get them in trouble?"

  "Perfect," a fourth said, turning to them. "If you're dangerous, please shoot Cybele."

  "Okay, okay, no need to be mean," the third one-- apparently Cybele-- said, as the woman who was so insistent about getting the guards hurried out of the room-- and bumped straight into the Prince.

  "Hells and damnation," Wendy whispered.

  "What?" Alice asked. "Can't we just go back through the Door?" Wendy started to step back toward it, stumbling a little, and Alice remembered. She needed medical attention, and certainly couldn't get it safely in her world.

  "You have to leave!" the woman who'd bumped into the Prince said. "We could all be in danger!"

  "In here?" he asked, laughing. "From what?"

  The red-haired woman pointed at them, and the Prince grinned. "Oh, hello!"

  "My Prince," Wendy said, bowing as best as her injured leg would allow. "We apologize for the scene. I thought for certain this Door led to the front gates of the palace, not your courtyard."

  "The laws don't say anything about your intentions," the red-haired woman said. "If you enter this segment of the palace without permission, you are to be put to death."

  "Whoa, what?" Alice exclaimed.

  The Prince frowned. "That is the law, isn't it? Pity. Roxy, I suppose you should fetch the guards after all."

  "There is no need for all this," one of the other women said, and even despite the situation Alice had to tell her hormones to settle down. "Don't you remember the exception to that law? If someone's interested in joining the harem, she can look around the grounds."

  "Exactly!" Alice said. "Important exception!"

  He looked them both over, then shrugged. "Fair enough. You're in."

  She glanced over at Wendy and grinned. "Hey, we're not going to die!" Then she paused. In? "Ohh man."

  "If you're here to join us," the red-haired woman said, sidling closer, "then why is there a knife in your belt?"

  "It is not for use here," Wendy said, slowly taking the weapon out and dropping it to the ground at her feet. "I merely had to carry it because some of the Doors lead to dangerous places."

  "They certainly do," she said, giving them a smile that held no warmth as she held out her hand. "I'm Roxana."

  "Wendy," she said. "This is my companion, Alice. And I had no idea there were so many capable women here," she said. "I'm sure now that they must keep you very busy, so we'll just--"

  "No, no, I insist. Stay. Besides, it's not every day women come to the harem with a baby in tow."

  Sayvi squeaked, and another woman approached. Her expression was also far from trusting, but it softened somewhat as she looked at the infant. "May I?"

  Alice nodded. "His name's Sayvi. His parents abandoned him," she said. Close enough to the truth, anyway.

  "There are nursemaids enough to take him," the woman said, carefully taking Sayvi. "They're all bored to death right now, I'm sure. Since procreating doesn't seem to be high on either of the Royal children's priority list."

  The Prince laughed. "One of these days that sense of humor's going to get you into trouble, Beckah."

  Alice stared at him, disbelieving. There hadn't been any hint of teasing in the woman's expression or voice when she'd said that. Venom, if anything. Before she could ask him if he was truly that dense, he turned away.

  "Ladies, get them changed; make them feel at home. I'll be back in an hour."

  "Prince," Roxana said. "I must insist that we send out a messenger to your mother. She must be notified of this most unusual--"

  "And I insist that you do as I told you."

  "My apologies," she said. "Of course." But as soon as she was gone, the servile posture was gone and she stalked out into the courtyard.

  "My name is Estelle," their unexpected savior said quietly. "Can you go through any Door? I wasn't even aware there was one in the courtyard."

  "Not right now," Wendy whispered.

  "Precisely!" Cybele said. "We can discuss things like that later. Oh, I can't wait until Arachne sees you! She'll make you the most beautiful things to wear."

  "I think this one has other things on her mind," a young dark-skinned woman said, moving to Wendy's side. "Come. I have a potion that should help you with the pain."

  "Thank you."

  "I'm so glad Fiametta noticed," Cybele said, as the two of them slowly walked to the enormous circular couch at the far end of the room. "I'm terrible with realizing things once in a while, I swear. Anyway, Arachne has some new aquamarine fabric and it'll look perfect on you," she said, t
aking Alice's hands. "You're so lucky. I've always wanted to be a redhead but the last time I used a dye charm it came out purple instead. Not what I expected at all. I've just got to put you in something green. I've got a beautiful dress somewhere in here--"

  "I'm not a doll!" Alice snapped, pulling away.

  "Of course you're not," Cybele said. "What's the matter?"

  "The matter is, this is a sexist, archaic, disgusting institution and I am not--"

  "-- not feeling very well today," Wendy said loudly. "So sorry. Doors can have an adverse effect on those who aren't used to them."

  "Perfectly all right," Cybele said. "I've never been through a Door myself. Here, pick out whatever you like," she said, throwing open the doors to her wardrobe. "Would that be preferable?"

  What would be preferable would be getting the hell out of here, Alice thought. "Wendy. . ."

  "It'll be all right," Wendy said quietly. "I promise."

  Alice looked around, trying hard to believe her. She had to admit, the area wasn't entirely what she might expect.

  The luxurious surroundings, the comfortable couches and chairs, yeah. That she'd taken as a given. And when she went into the bathroom to change, the realization that it was bigger than her entire apartment didn't come as a surprise. But there was also a reading room, and a room with several mechanical-looking things that she'd probably break just by looking at them, and an enormous writing desk.

  “Of course we have such things,” Estelle told her, when she expressed surprise. “The Prince isn't with all of us every moment of the day, and it would get boring with nothing to do.”

  “Well, you've got clothes to try on, and. . .” The woman gave her one of those 'I'm beginning to doubt your sanity' looks that she was getting so used to around here, and then laughed. “Okay, I'm explaining this all wrong,” Alice continued. “Where I'm from, and from what I remember of the stories, anyway, harem women just lounge around all day and eat good food and try on clothes and stuff. The King wouldn't let them do anything else. They were just there for decoration and . . .” She almost found herself blushing. “Well, you know.”

  Another laugh. “I think I can guess.”

  “So maybe I'm wrong,” she said. “You guys can leave if you want to?”

  Cybele raised her eyebrows. “Why would we want to?”

  “Just go with me here,” she said. “If for some reason you did, you'd be allowed to go?”

  “It's never been done,” Cybele said. “Once we're selected, we stay until the Prince dismisses us. If he does.”

  “Selected?” Alice asked. “Oh man, please don't tell me he has women stand in a line while he looks them over or something.”

  Roxana laughed. “How else is he supposed to find us? Visit every house in Faerietale?”

  “You get paraded around in front of him like show animals so he can pick a few of you out and you're actually okay with that?”

  Now Roxana was glaring at her, and Cybele was glancing away uncomfortably as she finished combing her hair. Fiametta continued to stir the concoction she'd come up with, seemingly oblivious to the conversation, but the way her hand had tightened around the handle of the spoon tipped Alice off. “Look, I'm--”

  “Never mind,” Estelle said. “Come on. I'll give you a tour of our grounds.”

  “I'm sorry,” Alice said, once they were outside.

  “It's all right. I'm sure there are things we would be just as indignant about were we to visit your world.” She stopped walking, and her serene face became serious for a moment. “However, if you wish to bring such matters up again, please do so without insinuating that we're stupid.”

  “I didn't mean--” She sighed. Meaning or not, she had. “Sorry.”

  “Apology accepted,” she said. “I'll explain to the others later.”

  “Okay.” Then she looked away from the other woman and truly looked around the grounds, and her breath hitched. It was like something out of-- well, she wasn't entirely sure what it was out of but she knew she could sit out here for hours just staring.

  The trees had long, draping leaves, and thousands of tiny multicolored flowers bloomed all over them. She'd been reluctant to go around barefoot, but the grass was soft under her feet and she almost felt eight years old again, darting around her grandfather's backyard catching fireflies, her shoes long since discarded on the porch.

  Estelle stepped onto a smooth stone path leading to an intricately detailed gate, and she followed after her, enjoying the warmth of the sun-heated stones.

  Stop that, she thought. You're not allowed to let yourself get tricked. This place is only pretty as a distraction.

  She glanced back at the courtyard again, startled and then annoyed to see a big guard following after them. “What does he think I'm going to do-- beat you to death with one of these sleeves?” she asked. The shirt Cybele had selected for her had billowing, utterly impractical sleeves.

  But they did look nice, she thought, reminding herself again immediately afterwards that that didn't matter. It was just a change of pace to have pretty things instead of her fast food uniform or a worn-out pair of jeans.

  “It's Edom's job to look after us. Technically, you're still a stranger.”

  “You don't seem worried.”

  “I'm not. I'm an excellent judge of character.”

  This was stated so matter-of-factly that Alice couldn't really think of it as bragging. “And what do you think?”

  She paused, turned to look at her. “I think you're lonely, don't have any strong attachments back home. That part of you wants to like it here, and another part's angry about that.” She tilted her head. “And I might be wrong, but I think you're a Same.”

  “Okay, you officially scare me.”

  Estelle shrugged and continued down the path. “It's just observation. You haven't said anything about getting a message back to anyone in your world. You look around and your face is awed one moment and irritated the next.”

  “And what's a 'same'?”

  “It means you like women instead of men. If I'm right, anyway. You have a different term for it?”

  “Umm . . . yeah. Yeah, we do. How'd you know?”

  “I saw the way you were looking at me.”

  “Oh." Was she really that obvious? "You're not going to say anything, right?”

  “Not if you don't want me to. Why?”

  “Well, it . . . I mean, that's not weird? For me to be in here with all of you when I'm--”

  “Edom and the other guards are not Sames. As long as behavior is respectful, what does it matter?”

  Maybe I could start to like it here, Alice thought, and then the thought vanished in a jolt of fear as she caught sight of a weird, lumbering animal. “The heck is that?”

  “It's a selka. Most of them are work animals, but some are kept here for riding. Do you want to try?”

  “That's okay; I like living,” Alice murmured, eyeing the beast warily. It had a stubby neck and long brown fur with white spots. It was interesting-looking, but there was no way she was going to get close enough to ride it. Anything that large had to have good-sized teeth.

  Estelle smiled. “Okay. Then we can watch one of the barn workers,” she said, pointing toward the other end of the field.

  Alice looked over there, and her eyes widened. The tan-and-brown animal that the young man was riding moved with a grace she wouldn't have predicted from something so stocky. “Wow.”

  “You want to see the cubs?”

  Ohh, now I'm in for it, Alice thought. She didn't only have an affinity for human kids; if she said yes she'd probably be out here all afternoon cooing at some little puffball. So of course, she found herself nodding.

  “They're this way.”

  The adult selka's heads were at her shoulder level; the babies' heads barely reached her knee. They were obviously well cared for, their coats sleek and their bodies pudgy with baby fat that they seemed determined to run off as quickly as possible. She didn't think she'd seen any
thing so energetic since her best friend in grade school had won a 'who can eat the most Pixi Stixs' contest.

  “I hate to say this,” Estelle said eventually, “but we'd better go back inside. The Prince will be back soon and you need to change.”

  She looked down and paled. “Oh man. Cybele's gonna kill me.”

  Estelle barely glanced at the grass stains and muddy paw prints. “Clothes can be cleaned.”

  By who? she wondered, and then decided that getting into the details of palace hierarchy wasn't a good idea right now. She'd already stuck her foot in her mouth enough for one day.

  They passed through the arched doorway back into the main room, and Alice's intended apology faded when she saw Wendy still on the circular couch. But instead of sleeping, she was talking loudly, many of the other women staring at her, expressions focused.

  “-- but instead of giving her the welcome she'd expected, Lord Asriel says, 'I didn't send for you!' and. . .”

  Alice shook her head, placing a familiar sarcastic smile on her face. She recognized the story; it was the one her mother had taken her middle name from. She remembered her mother trying to read the first book to her, also remembered the momentarily sad look on her face when she'd declared it boring and asked to hear something else. “Wendy.” She had to say her name again before the other woman caught on.

  “Hm? Oh, hello Alice! I'm sorry. What?”

  “Shouldn't you be resting?”

  “Please let her finish!” Cybele said. “I want to know what happens!”

  Wendy smiled. “It's a trilogy, Cybele, I can't finish the entire thing today.”

  “Awwww.”

  “But I'll keep going tomorrow, promise. Or maybe you can convince Alice to tell you.”

  Not likely, Alice thought, grabbing something at random from Cybele's wardrobe and going to change for the second time. When she came out, the Prince was waiting. Then, looking right at her, he snapped his fingers.

  "Excuse me, did you just snap at me like I'm a dog? You--"

  "You would prefer it if I told you to come with me? Very well. Come along," he said, and then he turned and walked out of the room.

  "Now what?" Alice hissed. "Come on, let's just go! Your leg's already looking a bit better."