To The Fairest

by Adrianne Brooks

  “I have been avoiding you, but it’s not because I hate you.”

  “Then—?”

  She held up a hand, “Let me finish.” I complied quickly enough and she leaned back against the arm of the couch as she spoke. “Chris and I? We thought we could handle this by ourselves. You and Sam have enough on your plate without having to worry about Mal the Magnificent.”

  “I don’t mind helping.”

  “That’s the problem.” She said. “It’s really hard to find the things that make you happy. To find that one person who can change your life. I wanted you to have something good that you could hold in your heart and look back on when the world turned to shit.”

  I chuckled. “I had no idea you were so pessimistic.”

  She waved a dismissive hand at my choice of words. “I’m realistic. There’s a difference. Let’s face it, when is life ever normal for you? When do you ever get the chance to just be still and enjoy the dubious honor of being a rich white girl?”

  When she put it like that, I could see her point. If past experience had taught me anything, it was that I should enjoy small windows of peace as they came to me. Up until the pregnancy and the whole moth girl thing, Sam and I had been taking things pretty easy. It had been a nice change of pace from the hectic nature of our first few weeks together. That thought led me to another and I winced.

  “And Danielle?”

  “Babe. You’re momma’s cray cray and you don’t lie like an American. She would have gotten the truth out of you eventually and Chris and I figured you didn’t need the stress. Especially since you two are getting along these days.”

  The idea of my mother and I on good terms was funny, but realizing the truth is what brought a smile to my face.

  “So you don’t think I’ve been corrupted by evil because I’ve been spending so much time with her? You don’t think I’m a traitor or a sleeper agent who’s tough on the outside but sweet as homemade apple pie on the inside?”

  Looking like a disapproving old woman, Rachel shook her head from side to side and tsked, her eyes narrowing on me.

  “You been hitting the comic books again?”

  “I have a weakness for 2D testosterone and men in tights.”

  “You’re sick.”

  “Thank you.”

  The rumbling sound of a car pulling up into the driveway pulled our attention to the front door. I heard a car door slam and Rachel got to her feet and tucked her hair behind her ears.

  “All right.” She said. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  * * * *

  The last time I’d spoken to Seraphim had been in the privacy of my own mind.

  She’d helped me make a choice. One that had changed the rest of my life. What I had appreciated most about the encounter was the fact that she had never tried to push me towards one path over the other. Even when she doubted my decision, she’d supported it. Last I heard Maleficent had returned Seraphim’s decapitated head and body back where it belonged. Next to my father’s grave. Once a Godmother was assigned a family, she stayed with that family through the generations. But Seraphim had died long before she could see to her other charges and for the past few millennia or so it had been up to Maleficent to take care of us in her stead. I’d liked Seraphim. When she wasn’t being a creepy zombie fairy and being stored in my freezer.

  Still, it would be good to see her again. If anyone could shed some light about what was going on it was her. At least I hoped it was. If Seraphim couldn’t tell us anything then it would be back to Madam Clara. I didn’t think she’d appreciate seeing me twice in as many days when she had the magical equivalent of a restraining order against me. Jeez, I’d missed one appointment. I’d hate to see how she would react if I actually tried to offend her.

  “Ready?”

  Pulled from my thought, I looked across the coffee table to Rachel. After a moment I managed to nod. The three of us were sitting in the middle of the living room, the coffee table between us and our legs all crammed beneath it. It was sort of cozy. Sure it smelled a little like feet since we were all barefoot, but even that had its own sort of charm. The only thing that would have made the moment complete is if there had been shots taking up space on the table instead of an Ouija board. Ever since I’d watched Paranormal Activity, I’d been leery of the things. But this was the only way I could think of to talk to someone who was no longer living. I’m sure Danielle would have had a spell or something for something like this, but I wasn’t prepared to deal with the emotional trauma that usually accompanied asking my mother for a favor and or advice.

  The instructions on the back didn’t specifically tell us to turn off all the lights and light candles but we did it anyway because it seemed like the right thing to do. Chris, having missed more than a decade of killer ghost themed cinema, was actually excited.

  “I’ve always wanted one of these.” He confided, practically swelling with pride. “Jimmy Roark would be so jealous.”

  Rachel smiled. “Who’s Jimmy Roark?”

  “Only my best friend.” Chris said blinking. Then he frowned. “At least he was in elementary school. I wonder how he’s doing now.”

  “Come on people. Focus.” I said. Placing my hands on the planchette, I looked at Chris and said. “As soon as we’re done I’ll teach you about Facebook.”

  “Please don’t.” Rachel said. “I’m still working on Twitter. He thinks a bundle of tweets is called a Twat. It’s a nightmare.”

  Chris’s jaw tightened, “Grammatically speaking, it makes sense.”

  “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t.”

  “Hey.” I said, voice rising in a bid to interrupt their bickering. “Can we get this over with or what?”

  Rachel huffed and Chris scowled. I didn’t want to release the planchette so I just wiggled my elbows until the joined me, placing their fingertips lightly upon the heart shaped piece of wood. In many ways, a Ouija board was just another form of automatic writing. We were hoping to call Seraphim forth and let her speak through us with help of the board. At my signal we all closed our eyes and fell silent.

  I could feel our individual powers building around the table and I allowed my perception to shift, opening up my second sight so that I could see what would have otherwise been invisible to the naked eye. Even with my eyes closed, I could see Chris flickering on his side of the table. A bright blue flame that smelled of oceans and the air just before a thunderstorm. Rachel was beside him, a gentle white light. Quiet but steady. The Toadstone glowed in my second sight. So much so that everything else seemed dulled next to its brilliance.

  As I stared at it, I could have sworn that it actually turned and looked at me. Which didn’t make sense. It wasn’t as if the Toadstone was sentient.

  Was it?

  Whether or not the stone possessed some sort of consciousness wasn’t important just then and I pulled my gaze from it with an almost physical effort. I don’t know what I looked like in second sight, and it didn’t really matter. What mattered was that with a tiny nudge of my awareness, I began pushing my magic towards the Planchette. Rachel and Chris followed suit, the Toadstone thankfully remaining still. As our magic poured over the Ouija board it was like watching quicksilver form words in midair. Before the planchette and the board itself had been invisible to my other sight. But as soon as the magic touched it, the letters and numbers and symbols that made up the surface of the board came to life. The letters and caricatures peeled themselves up from the board to float in the air before us in 3D. They were like birds, flitting about in chaos within the circle we’d formed, waiting for direction.

  “Seraphim.” I called, and the letters paused midflight. “Seraphim, Godmother and protector of the Greyson line, I summon you. Come to us.”

  The letters stayed immobile and Chris spoke next.

  “Seraphim.” He echoed. “Godmother and protector. I summon you. Come to us.”

  Since we were the only two Greyson’s left, I was hoping our call would be enough to
pull her to us. Sure enough, I watched as the letters floating in the air began to dance. They flowed like water, so smoothly that it was as if someone were writing them with an invisible quill.

  ‘I am here, young Greyson’s’ the message said, letters frog hopping over one another to complete the words they wanted to spell out. At the same time, the planchette moved across the board beneath our fingertips with painful speed so that those lacking the second sight could read the dead fae’s message as well.

  ‘Why have you summoned me?’

  “We need your help.”

  ‘Ah, I see. What of the witch?’

  I imagined that I could detect a bit of an attitude when Seraphim mentioned Maleficent and I rolled my eyes.

  “Mal-I mean, the witch, is unwell.” Rachel answered. “It’s sort of why we wanted to talk to you.”

  “Do you know what’s going on here? Do you know about the curses?”

  The letters went crazy.

  ‘Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.’

  “Seraphim.” Chris snapped, the bite in his voices making Rachel and I jump. “You will be calm.” He told the fae, and the letters went still. After a moment of thought, they started up again. This time more calmly.

  ‘The Widows are gathering on the other side of the veil. They lost their own power after the war and must turn to the demons. Your witch is trying to help you, young Greyson’s, but she has too many others to save. Too many curses to fight. The demon with no name is consuming her power bit by bit. Soon she will be no more and the curses you all worked so hard to cure will return with a vengeance.’

  Swallowing felt difficult and my mouth went dry.

  “So you’re saying—?”

  The planchette moved and the letters danced before Rachel could even finish her horrified question.

  ‘The Dupree will sleep, the Greyson will shrink, and the Widow will burn.’

  “Do you mean that like, a literal burning or is it a metaphor?”

  Rachel kicked me under the table and I winced. She was right. Literal or not, it was still bad news.

  “What do we need to do?”

  ‘Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill.’

  “Who?” Rachel asked hoarsely.

  ‘The demon with no name.’

  “How?” Chris barked.

  ‘Travel to the world beyond the veil. The Dragons will take you down, down, down, to the world where the demons sleep. You must—’

  Abruptly the words in the air shattered and fell away like so much dust. Our magic was ripped from the board, sent back to us in a backlash that knocked me on my back. I heard Rachel scream, through blurry eyes, I saw Chris try and hang on to the planchette, his arms shaking with strain and his face reddening. But all too soon, whatever power had thrown us aside sent him flying back with enough force to strike a wall.

  Rachel made an inarticulate sound and scrambled after him and I was about to follow her when I saw movement from the corner of my eye. It was the planchette and it was moving by itself, circling the board to point out the same letters over and over again. I crawled to the edge of the coffee table and stared down at it. For a moment, I was confused by what I was reading. It wasn’t in English and I actually made the mistake of thinking that it was Seraphim trying to speak. But the fae wouldn’t have tried to rip us a new one. No, something or someone had interfered with our connection with one another and severed it. Now, they were using the Ouija board to send a message of their own.

  I had to watch as the planchette moved wildly from one side of the board to the other for nearly a minute before what it was spelling out finally hit me. It was a summoning. One I remembered seeing in the book of spells Danielle had given me. The only reason I even remembered it was because Sam and I had just seen a movie on that very subject, making the spell itself stick out to me.

  Looking accusingly towards LaRue, I glared at her as she squawked in alarm. I shoved the Ouija board aside and looked up to meet Rachel’s gaze.

  “What do you know about giants?”

  She paled and scrambled to her feet, grabbing Chris’s arm and tugging even before she was fully upright.

  “I know you run from them.” She said grimly.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I felt the ground began to shake under me, and the house groaned, the candles flickering dangerously as something big began to make its way towards us. I tried to use the coffee table as leverage to pull myself upright but the next quake knocked me off my feet. I heard dishes crash as they were shaken from their shelves and the picture on the walls slid from their nails to hit the floor. Chris stumbled over, struggling to keep his balance as the house shook again, more violently this time. Rachel was already near the front door, waiting for us, her face a mask of fear.

  Chris grabbed me by the upper arms and jerked me to my feet, the next tremor had the ceiling groaning ominously, and Chris shoved me towards the front door as bits of it began to rain down.

  “Mal?” I screamed, clutching at his arm and looking towards the back hallway. It wasn’t like she could walk out of here and Chris was the only one strong enough to carry her. He cursed, running a hand through his hair and leaving plaster to smear in the sweat on the side of his face. From outside we heard car alarms go off, and a crackle as what sounded like a power line was taken out of commission. I could hear the neighbors going outside to see what was going on and their cries of horror as they gazed on what we already knew to be waiting for us.

  “I’ll get her.” Chris yelled over the cacophony, pushing me towards where Rachel waited, tense and shaking. “Go.”

  I froze, searching his eyes, hating to leave him but knowing that we couldn’t allow Maleficent to die. He nodded and threw me a smile.

  “I’m right behind you.”

  I don’t know why, but I believed him, and after a tight-lipped nod, I hurried for the front door. I grabbed Rachel’s hand as I passed her and dragged her after me into the front yard. Somehow I was completely unsurprised to see that LaRue had shuffled out of the house ahead of the rest of us, and now stood in the middle of the yard. I was surprised she wasn’t already halfway down the street, but I suspected that her lack of progress had to do with the fact that she was currently frozen in terror.

  Rachel and I reacted much the same way when we saw the giant towering above the nearby houses and trees. Living in Georgia was a lot like falling for an aging actress. She still possessed the grace and charm that had made people fall for her on the big screen, but she was finally stepping into the 21st century. For all intents and purposes Rachel and Chris lived within the limits of a thriving, growing city.

  But no matter how many businesses and shops opened up around them, there were still huge chunks of the area dedicated solely to forestry. Huge, towering trees that had probably seen the rise and fall of presidents as well as their fair share of settlers when this land’s only name was the one that the Native Americans had seen fit to give it.

  Those trees, trees that had had hundreds of years to grow, were ripped from the ground and tossed aside with such ease and disregard that it made my blood run cold. The giant himself was so tall I couldn’t make out his features. Everything from the shoulders up was obscured by the night sky. Looking up we could make out the shape of his head based on the blank spots in the sky where his massive frame was blocking out the stars. He growled something, his words so deep that they were unintelligible, the sound of his voice like rocks sliding against one another.

  He seemed to glance around and I felt the moment his eyes settled on us. He laughed and Rachel and I reached blindly for one another, our fingers entangling. I squinted into the distance, it looked like he was still a few miles away if I had my bearings right. But even so, it wouldn’t take him long to reach us. Maybe a dozen steps, if that.

  We heard shots in the distance and I winced when I realized that people were shooting at the giant. The bullets did nothing as far as
we could tell other than irritate him and Rachel and I weren’t the only ones watching who screamed when the giant bent down to grab up one of the shooters. It was too far to make out details or hear the sounds the man made when the giant shoved him in his mouth, but I could imagine it all too well. The giant spit something into his hand and tossed it aside. A few seconds of silence went by and then a bloody pair of shoes hit the street and rolled beneath a parked car.

  The giant bent down again to grab a handful of people and I turned away as I saw small figures struggling between the fingers of his massive fists. Those who broke free fell through the air to their deaths, which was gruesome, but not as terrible as being eaten. The sight of the giant feasting on people was too much for the spectators, and in unspoken agreement Rachel’s neighbors began to scatter.

  LaRue was shaking with such force that her feathers quivered with the motion. As soon as those shoes hit the ground she squawked and something heavy hit the ground beneath her. Rachel went to pick her up as cars zoomed away, horns going off as people got in each other’s way. I was too busy staring down at the golden egg LaRue had pooped out to pay attention to the surrounding chaos.

  “Huh.” I said, unable to think of a response worthy of the situation.

  “Don’t make fun.” Rachel admonished. “It’s not her fault.”

  “Actually it is.” I said mildly, putting two and two and golden goose egg together. “It’s part of LaRue’s curse. She’s the ‘Golden Goose’ and it looks like her Giant wants her back.”

  Rachel brightened momentarily. “Does that mean a handsome scamp named Jack is going to show up too?”

  I thought about that then shook my head. “Eh. Probably not before we get squished.”

  We both jumped as the front door slammed behind Chris as he hurried out of the house. Maleficent was wrapped in a blanket and clutched in his arms like a child. She looked so terribly small, so diminished, with her legs missing and I blinked back unexpected tears.

  “Let’s go.” Chris called, striding past us without slowing. With LaRue clutched tightly against her, Rachel followed Chris to the car and opened the back door so that he could slide Maleficent into its leather interior. I scooped up the golden egg and closed the door behind Rachel as she hopped in the backseat to sit beside my godmother. I claimed the passenger seat up front while Chris slid along the hood of the car to get to the driver’s side. He’d just gotten into the car and cranked it when the ground began to shake again. The giant must have finished his impromptu snack because a glance in the rearview mirror showed his shins as he began heading our way.