Faerietale

by Stephanie Rabig

  “You have no idea.”

  ***

  The Faery Queen laughed, a sound like bells tinkling. Small, potentially psychotic bells. “You are speaking seriously? You wish to take too much of a potion? On purpose?”

  “Yes,” Snow White said. “Will you help us?”

  Her wings kept buzzing behind her as she shrugged. “I suppose so; after all, it won't be my body to burn. On one condition,” she said. “Take Tinker Bell with you. That dreadful lout Peter Pan allowed her to be changed back to her original form. We do love having her here, of course, but I don't think she's quite happy. Perhaps she would cheer up if she was with those of her own size.”

  “Done,” Snow White said.

  “She's planning to take that potion herself, isn't she?” Alec whispered.

  “I think so,” Alice said. “I'll see what I can do to talk her out of it.”

  The Prince started to reply, and then a tiny blonde woman sidled up to him. “I need to speak with you,” she said.

  “What is it?”

  “Privately. Come with me.”

  “I can't--”

  “Afterwards I'll show you to the Lagoon. Not that it's easy to miss. And where we're going is close by.”

  “Alice,” he said, planting his feet as the small woman tugged on his hand. “Do you know who this is?”

  “Tinker Bell. Why?”

  "She insists on speaking with me, privately."

  "Ooh, sounds like it might be your lucky day, then," she said, but the quip was strained, and when a twig snapped off to the left she tensed before realizing it had only been a small animal. "She was tiny last I saw her. Peter Pan's an asshole, yeah, but the chances of her stabbing you and leaving you for dead are pretty slim. I think."

  “Of course I'm not going to stab you,” Tinker Bell said. “Now come on; if we hurry we can be back before my Queen even gets the potion ready.”

  "I'll be back shortly,” the Prince said. “If not here then I'll meet you at the Lagoon.”

  Alice nodded.

  They didn't go far from the rest of the group; when they stopped in front of a tiny cottage-- her home, he assumed-- he could still hear quiet voices and Alice occasionally cursing at problematic tree branches.

  Tinker Bell moved several steps away, and then took a deep breath. "All right. Now, don't panic."

  He froze, half-expecting Guards to erupt from the trees and drag him back to the castle. Instead, she just spoke, the words coming out in a rush.

  "You're not the Queen's child."

  "I know."

  "You know?" She laughed. "Oh, that makes this so much easier! I thought I would have to talk you through some sort of crisis."

  He was so relieved that this wasn't some sort of trap that it took him a moment to think of the obvious question. "How do you know?"

  "Well, because I was one of the ones who brought you here. Of course, I wasn't in this form-- I can't make magic at all in this form-- but Aida and I were the ones who were assigned to get you."

  "Why?"

  "Because the Queen wanted a child, of course! She hadn't been able to bear one, and she thought a son would help cement her claim to the throne."

  He held still for a long moment, and then unsteadily made his way over to the chair that rested next to the small garden. When the mirror had told him he wasn't the Queen's son, he'd come up with several theories-- perhaps he had been Gold-Tree's child and after her untimely death the Queen had chosen to raise him; he'd been the child of a palace worker who hadn't wanted him . . . but this? A changeling?

  "So . . . so you took me from Alice's world?"

  "Yes."

  He closed his eyes, remembering the multitude of odd things Alice had mentioned. Cars and computers and airplanes and cheeseburgers and not a hint of magic. His world.

  When he opened his eyes again, Tinker Bell had her hands on her hips, regarding him impatiently. "So. Would you like to see your father, then?"

  He just stared at her until she started to repeat the question, and then he held up his hands. "I . . . yes. Where is he?"

  "Right in there."

  She pointed to the small house, and then started to walk past him to the door. He quickly got to his feet, put a hand on her shoulder. "No. I . . . let me do this."

  "Suit yourself," she said, shrugging his hand away and wandering further back, close to the line of trees.

  He walked up to the door, started to knock, hesitated. After two more half-attempts, he finally got up the courage to knock.

  The door opened immediately, to a familiar face. ". . . you?"

  "My boy," the White Rabbit said, pulling him into a crushing hug. "Oh, I'm so sorry I didn't know you; I would've told you so many years ago, I'm sorry. . ."

  Alec held very still for a moment, remembering stories told and part of a childhood shared, though neither of them had known what was happening. Then he stepped back, truly looking for the first time. The angular face, same color of eyes, the height and the lankiness. . . "So," he asked, his throat tight. "Is my hair going to do all that when I'm older?"

  The White Rabbit laughed and pulled him close again, and this time Alec hugged him back. After a moment, the White Rabbit spoke quietly. “I . . . please forgive me. I hate to ask this of you. I've been trying to remember for so long now. What is your name?”

  He swallowed hard. “Alec. It . . . my name's Alec.”

  “Alec!” he exclaimed, beaming. “Of course, Alec! He was your mother's brother. Died quite young; Ruth wanted to name you after . . . Ruth. Her name was Ruth.”

  “Do you remember what happened to her? Did she stay on the other side of the Door?”

  “She . . . she died. The night you were taken. She never had a strong heart.”

  "Wait," Alec said. "She knew? You knew?" He remembered his mother telling him that the White Rabbit had come through to their world with no escort; at his young age the 'why' had never occurred to him. "I thought with changelings, no one can tell they aren't the original child."

  Tinker Bell let out an exasperated sigh. "I forgot one glamour! It was something any Fae could've done!"

  "Careless little girl with a careless little boy," the White Rabbit singsonged. "Wings off flies and hearts out of people."

  "It was a mistake!" she protested.

  "Enough," the Prince said.

  "But I'm trying to tell you, it was just--"

  "And I don't care."

  She gave him a quick glare and then turned away. He turned back to the White Rabbit. "I need to get back to my sister. Would you--?"

  "Snow is here as well?" He grinned. "Such a dear girl. Does she have her battle camel yet?"

  "Not yet. But soon, I imagine. First we have to get a friend out of the palace dungeons."

  "Oh, that should be quite uncomplicated! Simply ask your mother!"

  He looked away. "She . . . she's turned against us. She tried to have Snow killed."

  "No. No," he repeated, grabbing Alec's arm, tugging him around to face him again. "She was kind."

  "She was. I don't know what changed, but she ordered the Huntsman to bring her out to these forests and to . . . to bring back her heart."

  "There was word," he whispered. "Of the Huntsman narrowly avoiding butchering an innocent. That was little Snow? That was ordered by my Queen?"

  "Yes."

  He sucked in a breath, drew himself up taller. "Then I will remain loyal to her. To the Queen I knew, who never would've stood for such a thing. I will protect her daughter as if she were my own until such time as she comes to her senses."

  "Thank you." He wanted to ask him his name; knew he had to once be known as someone other than 'the White Rabbit'. But given that he hadn't been able to remember his name, remember the name of his wife, he doubted his own had been kept in his memory. The thought of yet another heartbreak on his face if he couldn't recall was enough to leave the question unasked right now. Besides, he knew, now, of at least one other name. "Father."

  ***<
br />
  They stood on the shore, staring at the forbidding waters, Alice holding the potion and no one quite willing to step forward and drink it.

  Well, that wasn't quite true. Snow White had volunteered. She'd settled a little when Captain Hook had reminded her that if her plan worked, Faerietale would need a ruler, but Alice knew if someone else didn't drink it soon, Snow would start insisting again.

  Alice would have asked if anyone wanted to play rock paper scissors for it if Smee hadn't been beside them, his body limp and face death-pale. Didn't seem the time for a joke.

  "Oh, for pity's sake, give it to me."

  They all turned toward the voice, and Alice held the vial a little bit tighter as she saw the black-haired mermaid. "No. You'll break it."

  "I will not. I may not have the same motives as the rest of you, but I also wish to speak to Her. A man I-- I care for deeply lies dying. If anyone can help him it is a Goddess. Give me the vial."

  Alice bit her lip, then looked uncertainly to Hook. If anyone knew the exact depths of the psychosis going on here, he might. "What do I--"

  "She's a mermaid, lass. You never really know."

  "Hook!" the mermaid snapped. "Come here."

  Hook arched an eyebrow, then murmured to Call, "If she drowns me, avenge my death?"

  "Aye, Cap'n."

  When he crouched down in front of her, she scooted forward until her nose almost touched his, and then whispered to him.

  "My name is Undine. Order me to bring Scheherazade back."

  "I--" A part of him instinctively balked. A named mermaid who was given an order she could not complete would melt into sea foam. They had found that out the hard way many years ago, when there had been more mermaids here and most of them had been more trusting. Then a pirate who had not been overly drunk so much as overly malicious had decided it would be a splendid game if he ordered the mermaids to bring down the moon for him. Two had melted, screaming, before the rest of the crew had reached him.

  If she found Scheherazade's Door only to not find the Goddess behind it, or if Scheherazade refused to follow. . .

  "We do not have time for your dithering. You know that."

  "Undine," he whispered. "I order you to bring Scheherazade back to us."

  "The vial," Undine said, and this time Hook nodded once. Alice gingerly approached, handing the vial over. Undine pulled out the stopper, closed her eyes for a brief instant, and then quickly drank the potion.

  Her scream was immediate and horrifying. Hook went to her, while several of the others covered their ears and Smee sat upright as best he could, loudly asking what was going on.

  When the mermaid opened her eyes again, they were jet black. She started to back away from them, started to say something, and then she clutched at her throat.

  "What's the matter?" Alice asked. "Are you-- it's not burning, is it? Do you feel okay? Do you remember who we are?"

  Undine shot her a look and then tapped at her throat again, her expression frantic.

  "You can't talk," Snow White said quietly.

  Undine shook her head.

  "That settles it," Hook said. "Someone has to go with her."

  Again, the brief silence, but this time Alice did break it, and not with a joke. "I'll go."

  Snow White grabbed her hand, and Alice gave it a brief squeeze. "Hey. You swordfight. Wendy finds Doors. The Wolf has rescued I don't know how many people. About time I started earning my keep, huh?"

  On a scale of one to absolutely petrifying, getting into the water with one of the mermaids went far past petrifying. She almost turned back, almost scrambled out of the Lagoon. The thought of the look on Snow's face was what kept her still.

  She wouldn't look disappointed; Alice could handle disappointed. No, Snow would understand. With somebody like that waiting for you, how could you not slay a few dragons every once in a while?

  Which, hopefully, she would not have to literally do.

  She got chest-deep into the water, holding onto the mermaid's hand, and then she took a deep breath and ducked under the water.

  Her companion took that as a cue, and swam. Alice nearly sucked in a reflexive breath at how fast they took off. They swam toward what looked like nothingness, yet another dark shadow in the murky Lagoon.

  But then something almost imperceptible changed-- the water got the slightest bit colder, there was a vague increase in the light. And suddenly they weren't in the water anymore.

  Alice kept a tight grip on the mermaid's hand as she dropped to the sandy floor. She started to glance down, to ask if she was okay, but then something else caught her attention and held it.

  Doors. These couldn't be anything else. They lined the walls and the ceiling and showed so many different people and animals and worlds, she was seeing different worlds, and when that fact slammed into her she couldn't even tear her gaze away in favor of looking at the dark-skinned woman who was approaching them.

  Finally, an irritated hissing sound from the mermaid beside her made her snap out of it. She looked down. Her companion was glaring at her, but seemed fine.

  Alice looked up at Scheherazade, still feeling out of breath. “Ma'am-- Your Highness? You need to come help us. There's--”

  The Goddess held up a hand. "If you request my assistance, then speak on my terms." She smiled. "Tell me a story."

  Alice closed her eyes, trying to remember her mother's tales. "Once upon a time," she whispered. "There was an evil Queen. She ruled capriciously, kind to some and-- and unbelievably cruel to others, including her own children. She tried to have her daughter killed, but she escaped and sought shelter in the woods, where she met a-- a traveler from another world. The traveler wanted to stay with the woman she loved, just be happy for as long as they could. But the Princess couldn't do that. She had to stop the Queen.

  "They found other dissatisfied subjects, good-- good men and women who are willing to fight. They're strong and they're brave and their cause is true," she said quietly. "One of them is already so close to giving his life. He needs your help. We need your help. We're not asking you to do it for us. We just need . . . need something. To know we're not fighting for a cause that's already lost."

  "I might be able to give you some assistance," Scheherazade said, after a silence during which Alice's heart rate had at least tripled. It was only the mermaid's tight grip on her hand that kept her from yelling at the Goddess to please hurry up because not all of them had eternity to debate this.

  "Wonderful. Fantastic. Thank you so much," Alice said. "We--"

  "What do you have to offer me in return?"

  "Are you serious right now?" The grip on her hand turned painfully tight, and Alice winced. "I'm sorry. Sorry. I'm not trying to be disrespectful or anything, honest I'm not, but can we work out the specifics after you heal Smee? I have no idea how long it takes a person to bleed out but he did not look good and--"

  "Do not fret about your friend," Scheherazade said, waving a brown, perfectly-manicured hand dismissively. "I've stopped everything there while you're with me."

  Alice blinked. "Everything? You mean-- time, the people? Everybody's all frozen?"

  "That would be the gist of it."

  She was talking about that as casually as Alice would've mentioned she'd done the dishes. Just a normal task, nothing special about it.

  You are not allowed to have a freakout, she told herself.

  Then an idea came to her. "Can-- can you do that again? To help? Maybe pause most things but not others, leave us unfrozen? That way we can get into the castle, get Wendy out of there, and after that we can work stuff out but I don't know about the whole storming-the-castle thing when it's just the ten or so of us against--"

  "That would be within my powers, yes. Again-- what do you have to offer?"

  Shit. Alice stared at her feet, trying desperately to think of something, anything. "I . . . well, I got some clothes and stuff from the harem. I don't have them with me right now of course but I know they'd look better on you
than on me." She glanced up, gauging the Goddess's reaction, and found her staring at her with one eyebrow quirked. There was also a half-smile on her face. Apparently she was amused rather than offended, luckily.

  Of course clothes wouldn't work, Alice thought. She can stop time, conjuring new outfits was probably a parlor trick to her.

  "You're not asking me for a firstborn or anything, right? Because I've got some bad news for you there. I mean, even if I was the get married and pop out a few dozen kids type, I'm not sure I could hand one over without knowing you're not secretly a cannibal or something. You've heard of Cronus, I'm sure. Creepiest--"

  The mermaid interrupted her by tugging her down enough to give her a much-needed slap to the back of the head. "Sorry," she muttered. "I just-- nervous. I'm not sure what I have to offer you." Alice tried to think back on her mother's stories. She didn't have a personal trinket or something with secret magical value; no necklace or ring or other talisman. The only thing that might possibly work was. . . "Except my loyalty. My belief."

  "Explain?"

  "Well, I-- I've heard more than once that Gods and Goddesses fade off once people don't believe in them anymore. So I'd believe. I've never really been the religious type but if you've got a church or shrine or something around I can. . ."

  Scheherazade smiled. "We do not require the fuel of prayer to keep going. We simply are."

  "Oh. Great."

  "Also, you seem mistaken on the meaning of cannibalism. It means to eat your own. I am not human, so to consume a mortal child-- while incredibly distasteful-- would not be cannibalism."

  "Well. Um. That's good to know, I guess."