Americana Fairy Tale

by Lex Chase

  Taylor mutely obeyed and sipped.

  Corentin looked out over the flat plains, smirking again at the silly cars. But the cars and nostalgia denied him comfort. “He’ll be Snow White,” Corentin said with no love for the name. “He’ll become the Witch Butcher. He’ll hunt down all witches. He’ll kill Darlene. He’ll kill me and others like me.”

  Taylor stayed quiet for a long moment. He picked at the same fleck of paint. The cicadas chittered in the distance. “So,” Taylor said so quietly Corentin first thought he imagined it. “We kill Charles, contain Idi, and… kill Atticus too.”

  “What the ever-loving fuck?” Corentin asked as he watched Taylor’s completely stoic expression.

  “It’s all we have,” Taylor said, seeming to maintain his calmness. “Atticus should likely be the bigger target. Because if Idi can’t have him, he doesn’t have a purpose. Right?” Taylor’s lip trembled. “So. Yeah.” He sniffed and quickly wiped his face. “But… he’s my brother.” The sob came then, and Corentin’s heart dropped. “I have to kill my brother.”

  “Taylor…,” Corentin said softly. “Stay with me here.” He reached out for Taylor’s hand again, and Taylor flinched away.

  “But, here we are… on this road…,” Taylor said in a wet gurgle from his tears. “And we have no way of getting to them. And I don’t have any sort of magic that will protect us. But… yeah.” He tossed up his hands. “Yeah. I have to kill my brother.” Taylor pulled his knees to his chest and barked cries openly into his hands.

  “I’ll help you.” A woman’s voice carried from the front of the truck and out of view.

  Corentin stiffened and held up his good hand to Taylor, indicating he should be still. Slow, confident footsteps came around the side of the truck.

  “I’m not here to fight. I’m not here to hunt. I’m here to help,” she said again and came into view.

  Phillipa Montclair offered a carefully measured smile, and Corentin didn’t know what to make of it. But he wasn’t quick to give over his trust. With his injured shoulder and Taylor’s limited ability in self-defense, Phillipa was capable of anything at the moment.

  “I’m calling a truce,” Phillipa said and held up her empty hands. “I don’t mean to cause either of you harm.”

  Corentin narrowed his eyes. “We took your keys. How did you find us?”

  Phillipa remained at the side of the truck nearest Corentin and didn’t join them, which was a welcome reprieve. “I never needed my keys or bike to get to you. Charles gave me a talisman.”

  “Of course, there was a trick to it,” Taylor said and grunted. “No way he’d trap you out here with us.”

  Phillipa bent at the waist and smiled directly at Taylor. “I’m sorry for trying to kill you.”

  Taylor snorted. “Apology so not fucking accepted.”

  Phillipa’s gentle expression vanished into one of regret. “I’m really here to help. I swear.”

  Corentin noted her closeness to his side of the truck. He flicked his fingers in a shooing gesture. “Can you… back up about five feet? Maybe ten? Keep your hands in plain sight?”

  Oddly, Phillipa did so without protest. She kept her hands at shoulder level. Corentin wasn’t ready to give his trust so easily.

  “Get on your knees,” Corentin said firmly. “Hands behind your head.”

  “I may be a disgraced prince,” Phillipa said as she crouched down, settling her knees in the dirt and grass. She laced her fingers behind her head. “But I’m still a prince, and I still have honor.”

  Corentin snorted. “But you were so quick to throw it away to be on the winning side of an incoming war. Just business, right?”

  Phillipa’s eyes widened, and Corentin knew he had her. He refused to back down with his dominating glare, and she turned her gaze to the grass. “That was before what Charles did with that elephant and those mundanes,” Phillipa said with remorse in her tone. “I didn’t expect him to involve mundanes.” Her chest rose and fell with a long sigh. The cicadas filled the silence around them. “You should see them,” she said after a moment. “Margate City is a war zone from the mundanes losing their grip on reality all at once.”

  “You didn’t expect that?” Taylor finally spoke up. He voice held an undeniable anger. “You didn’t expect that? You fucking sided with him, had every intention of killing me the first chance you got, tried to kill me at that rest stop, and you didn’t expect that?” Taylor practically yelled the word. “Are you for fucking real? Well. Guess what. I didn’t expect having to kill my brother. That’s pretty cool, y’know?”

  “And I think you’re right,” Phillipa said, and Taylor sat straighter. “If we take out Atticus first, it’ll be easier to conquer Charles.”

  “Take. Out?” Taylor asked, his voice dripping venom. “You are aware we’re talking about killing my brother?”

  Corentin sighed. “It was your idea, by the way,” he said and hissed with another bolt of pain. “Now that you have people on board with it, you’re backing out.” He tossed his head back and groaned a long note. “Where the fuck is Ringo?”

  Phillipa lowered her hands from her head and slowly stood. Corentin was too blind from the pain to stop her and too far gone to think of what she could do to them in their vulnerable position. “What happened to you?” she asked as she crept toward the truck.

  “Get back,” Taylor yelled, and Phillipa froze.

  Corentin appreciated Taylor’s attempt at protecting him. “Broke my shoulder while trying not to die.” He took a big breath and slapped the bed in a heavy slam. “I need Ringo. I need Ringo now.”

  Taylor sat up on his knees and scanned the fields. “But he’s still getting stuff to heal y—”

  “I’m here,” Ringo said from inside the truck. “I never went anywhere.” He fluttered out the back window and then sat at Corentin’s feet. He appeared on the verge of tears. “Sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?” Taylor asked in a nervous squeak.

  “I can’t,” Ringo whispered.

  “You can’t heal him?” Taylor snapped. “We’re out in the middle of nowhere, and you can’t heal him?” He slapped the flat bed alongside Corentin. “Are you kidding me?”

  “I didn’t say I really can’t,” Ringo said and beat his wings in order to pop into a standing position. “I’m just not good at it. I have a learning disability, y’see. Healing Arts classes just didn’t stick.” Ringo poked his fingertips together. “I can try… but it’s going to really suck.”

  Corentin shook his head slightly. “Healing Arts classes? You go to school for magic?”

  “Community college,” Ringo said and scratched the back of his head. “All I have is an associate’s. Honeysuckle’s the one with the PhD. Such a smart battle-ax.” He smiled sadly. “I hope she’s okay….”

  “I can get her,” Phillipa said, and all three turned to her. She nodded. “If you think she can help stop Charles and Atticus, I can get her. She’s at the Hatfield Plantation. She’s trapped there.” Phillipa’s smile broadened.

  Corentin glanced to Taylor, and Taylor issued the order. “If you really want to help, bring us Honeysuckle,” he said and clenched his fist. “I barely have a scrap of trust for you, which I’d say is pretty generous in the present situation.” He pointed at Corentin. “Especially with this guy as my present company. He’s tapping the last inklings of my trust reserves.”

  Corentin rolled his eyes. “Really?”

  Phillipa reached behind her back and pulled out a long, curving Bowie knife. Taylor stiffened. She held out the knife in surrender. “Take it. As collateral. You’ll need some way of defending yourselves until I can get back.”

  Taylor slipped over to Corentin’s side of the truck and took the knife from her hand. Corentin watched Phillipa with curiosity. “You really want to help?”

  “I wasn’t lying,” Phillipa said and turned up her nose.

  “It’s killing you, dealing with me, isn’t it?” Corentin asked with a grin.

  “Do
n’t get used to it,” Phillipa said as she scowled. “I’m gone. Keep driving. I’ll find you.”

  Corentin blinked once, and she had vanished into the whisper of the breeze. He looked at Taylor, and Taylor swallowed.

  Ringo clapped his hands. “Ready for this?” he asked as he took flight. He wiggled his fingers in preparation.

  “As long as you don’t stick my arm to my head, we’ll be okay.”

  Ringo shook his head. “Oh, no problem with that,” he said with a smile. “I just… didn’t learn how to numb the pain while working through the wound.” He turned to Taylor and pointed at Corentin’s legs. “Hold him down.”

  Taylor didn’t hesitate and sat on Corentin’s shins.

  Ringo summoned a ball of crackling gold energy into his palms. “You know that part where your dark magic makes you sick?” Ringo pulled his hands wider, and the ball pulsed and grew between his palms.

  “Yeah?” Corentin asked, uncertain of what Ringo was getting at.

  “This is going to be worse,” Ringo said flatly. “Here we go.”

  That was the only warning Corentin got before a bright flash of cheerful pink light.

  Then came his screaming.

  Then nothing.

  CHAPTER 25:

  HE’S ONLY SLIGHTLY DEAD

  Somewhere on the Open Road….

  June 11

  CORENTIN STARTLED awake when the sensation of the day changing shocked his system. He panted and tried to get his bearings. As his mind snapped into focus, he found had been laid out in the passenger seat, and Taylor was once again driving. Ringo sat on the dash, nibbling a piece of sandwich from their Starbucks loot. Taylor reached into the cup holder and pulled out his own quarter of the same sandwich. He crunched down while keeping his eyes on the road.

  Corentin watched him quietly and remained lying on the seat. Taylor hummed to himself and tapped a beat on the steering wheel with his fingertips. Corentin knew they had to keep themselves going somehow without the radio, considering their susceptibility to highway hypnosis.

  “Hey…,” Corentin said, then coughed wetly.

  “Whoa,” Ringo yelped and nearly jumped out of his skin. He fluttered over Corentin. “You’re alive!”

  Corentin pointed a finger as he sat up. “Coming from the pixie who healed me, that statement doesn’t sound right.” He pulled the lever at the side of the seat, and the back snapped into place with a ratcheting click. Corentin grimaced as he rolled his shoulder, working out the stiffness.

  “It… uh… well… was a bit of a concern,” Taylor said and kept his attention on the road.

  Ringo nodded and sat in Corentin’s lap. “You passed out right when we started. We waited a while to see if you’d wake up but then just kept going.”

  “So, how long were you going to keep driving until you were sure I was dead?” Corentin asked and watched Taylor, trying to gauge his expression.

  Taylor smirked and shrugged. “Until you started to smell, I suppose. Which would be hard because, y’know, this truck has a certain eau de parfum.”

  “You guys need to really lay off the truck,” Corentin grumbled and rubbed his temples. He massaged his shoulder, trying to work out the ache. “You did a number, little man.”

  “At least your shoulder isn’t broken anymore,” Taylor said unsympathetically.

  Corentin snorted. “Don’t fall all over yourself in relief at once, okay?”

  Taylor hooked a thumb to the backseat. “Ringo, get him the rest of the sandwich and a water from the Starbucks stash.”

  “Gotcha covered,” Ringo said and dived into the big black garbage bag of loot in the backseat.

  Corentin turned to watch Ringo work, moving like a large rodent under the plastic. He emerged with the goods and handed the plastic sandwich box to Corentin and the water to Taylor. Corentin didn’t waste a moment pulling out the sandwich. He sniffed it, savoring the scent of turkey, tomato, and cheese, and then chomped down in one large bite. “Fuck….” He grinned like a cat cut loose in a seafood shop overnight. “Storyteller, that’s good.”

  Taylor chugged half the water and then handed the bottle to Corentin. “Drink. You need to get your strength back.”

  Corentin took the bottle and helped himself to the remainder of the water. He considered the bottle. “Maybe we should save these,” he said. “In case we come across freshwater streams.”

  Ringo returned to his seat on the dash and smiled. “Check out the lavender lining the road. Being stuck in the middle of nowhere has its perks.”

  Corentin relaxed into his seat and watched the passing fields of lavender. He rolled down the window and took a whiff of the pleasant sweetness. “It’s the little things.” He closed his eyes. “You know…,” he said, turning his attention on Taylor. “You’re the only other person to drive my truck.”

  Taylor squinted at Corentin, dubious of his statement. “You’re just saying that because you only remember the last four years.”

  Corentin snorted a laugh. “No, I’d kno—”

  “Deer!” Ringo screeched and pointed toward the whitetail buck trotting across the road.

  Corentin’s adrenaline surged as Taylor jerked the wheel hard to the left. The truck fishtailed around the deer, missing it, but then spun in a donut to the right.

  “Hold on,” Taylor yelled as he fought the wheel. He turned with the motion, and the truck continued to spin. Taylor snapped the wheel into a sharp right, and the truck spun into a copse of trees.

  Corentin braced himself on the passenger side, and the trees failed to break the truck’s fall. Taylor released the wheel as the truck careened down a deep, verdant ravine. Bushes were reduced to shreds, and branches snapped in their passing. Corentin waited for them to hit bottom, anything to make them stop moving. But the truck only gained speed.

  They burst through one last line of trees into the empty air as the truck jolted off the edge of a cliff. Both Corentin and Taylor sucked in sharp breaths as the truck’s hood tipped forward and the expanse of a massive lake shimmered below them. The lake rushed to meet them for a head-on collision.

  Ringo slapped his hand to the dash of the truck and called out, “Alley-oop!”

  Corentin dug his fingers into the passenger seat as the truck swooped upward, gaining altitude. The truck tilted right and drifted down over a pine-tree-lined shore. Dainty Victorian homes and colorful shops with carved wooden signs whisked by underneath them. A pristine golf course slithered below them, and the truck snapped upward to soar over an extravagant resort. It dived again, and the treetops slipped against the truck’s chassis. The fluffy boughs batted at the truck as it sank into their embrace. The truck swooshed in a serpentine path, dodging tree trunks. Corentin gritted his teeth. He refused to scream, and Taylor likewise remained silent.

  Taylor pivoted toward Corentin and grasped onto him. Corentin pulled Taylor tightly to him, trying to offer comfort in their final moments. The truck crunched to a stop on a collection of downed logs. Corentin sat silent and held the trembling Taylor, who kept his face buried in the nook of Corentin’s neck and shoulder. Corentin sighed against the rising heat that Taylor afflicted him with. He savored the moment for three seconds longer and stroked his fingers through Taylor’s riot of dark hair.

  “Let’s go have a look-see, shall we?” Ringo asked, ignoring the tender moment Taylor and Corentin were sharing.

  Corentin stiffened, and before they could stop him, Ringo fluttered lazily out the window. Corentin puffed an exasperated sigh and then grunted when the heat from Taylor’s closeness surged with a shock. He shoved Taylor away to his side of the truck. “We should go,” Corentin said and failed at not sounding flustered. He unsnapped his seat belt and stumbled out of the truck.

  Corentin waited, taking long, even breaths. He wiped the sweat from his brow. The pain was getting worse. He had thought it was nearly unbearable before, but now, just moments under Taylor’s touch and he thought he would combust.

  Taylor hopped out of the
truck and inched over the old logs. Corentin frowned. Taylor had lost his flip-flops. He stepped over the logs toward Taylor and watched Taylor try to find places to put his feet.

  Corentin offered his hand. “C’mon…,” he said and flicked his fingers. “I’ll carry you.”

  Taylor harshly slapped his hand away. “I got it,” he growled in a low tone as he hobbled over the ground.

  After all they had been through, faced together, growing feelings Corentin knew Taylor had for him, and the feelings Corentin denied himself for Taylor, Corentin finally reached the end of his impossibly long fuse.

  “What the hell is your problem this time?” Corentin asked, and the moment it left his mouth, Taylor’s eyes blazed with anger.

  “My problem?” Taylor snapped. “My problem?”

  Corentin wouldn’t be deterred. “You have a running list of them. One minute it’s your brother, next minute it’s how you feel sorry for yourself, then the next is you’re mad at me about something that happened to you when you were five. So, which is it? What’s the problem right this minute?”

  He knew he’d hit something when Taylor spent less than a minute looking genuinely hurt before it flashed into anger. “You know what?” Taylor said and took sure steps down the footpath in bare feet. “I’m with you, that’s what.”

  Corentin straightened as if he had been slapped.

  Taylor continued to storm away, not flinching in the slightest as his feet hit twigs and pebbles.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Corentin yelled back and followed him.

  “You know damned well what it means,” Taylor called back. “All of these promises you’ve been making? All this crap about protecting me?”

  “It’s not crap,” Corentin said and hurried after Taylor. Together, they cleared the trees and came to the flat rocks on the shoreline of a green-blue lake. The water churned with angry spiny waves.

  “Not crap?” Taylor said, spinning on his heel to face Corentin. Corentin halted a foot from him. Taylor jabbed an angry finger into Corentin’s chest. “Darlene said as a huntsman you were incapable of making promises,” Taylor said, and Corentin blinked in surprise. “You’ve promised me a lot of things. And you’ve protected me?” Taylor tossed up his hands. “You’re protecting yourself. You keep dressing everything up in these lies so I don’t catch on to what you’re thinking. I’m onto you.” Taylor pointed a finger at Corentin’s chin and scowled. “I so get it now. I see you for what you are.”