The Prince of Neither Here Nor There mp-1

by Sean Cullen

  “A Faerie. A Faerie with a capital F-a-e-r-i-e! An old-school Faerie. One of the Fair Folk, an ancient race of magical beings.”

  Brendan stared at her in disbelief, then burst out laughing.

  57 The Toronto Maple Leafs are the Toronto professional hockey franchise. They are one of the most famous and most enduring hockey teams in the world. Their fans are fanatical despite the fact that, as of this publication, they hadn’t won a championship in over forty years. Their fans are both fanatical and masochistic.

  58 Lord Stanley, Governor General of Canada, donated the Silver Cup in 1892 to be presented to the best amateur hockey team in Canada. It later became the ultimate professional hockey prize, going to the winner of the National Hockey League playoffs. The cup has been accidentally left on buses, streetcars, trains; dropped in swimming pools; been lost, found, lost, and found again a number of times. Borje’s claim to have purloined the original cup is not so hard to credit, considering how many times it has gone missing in the past.

  59 Borje Salming was one of the first European hockey players to play professionally in North America. A stalwart defenceman, he was a fan favourite for many years. In retirement, he followed many important pursuits, including designing and selling his own line of underwear.

  60 Leif Eriksson, or Lucky Leif, is believed to have discovered North America in the tenth century. Accompanied by a group of adventurous Vikings from Greenland (of which Borje claims to have been one), Eriksson made landfall somewhere on the island of Newfoundland. They built some huts, collected some wood and wild grapes, then returned to the Greenland settlement. Borje appears to have been left behind in the New World and is therefore assumed to be the first permanent European settler in the New World.

  61 Trolls are a race of mythical beings that originated in the frigid mountains of Scandinavia. They are easily recognized by their characteristic skin: a thick, rough hide with a deep blue colour. Their natural habitat is mountainous terrain where they tend to live in remote caves, though some, like Borje, enjoy living underground. They are incredibly strong and resistant to most magic. And they tend to smell quite powerfully.

  NACHOS, MARSHMALLOWS, ANCHOVIES

  Kim watched him laugh, wipe his eyes, and wheeze as she calmly devoured more of the nachos. She made a face.

  “Do I taste… marshmallow?” she asked in disgust.

  “I like marshmallows,” Borje mumbled.

  “Hold it,” Brendan gasped after he managed to get control of himself. “Hold it just a second. You’re telling me I’m a fairy? Me? A fairy? Like Tinkerbell?”

  “No.” Kim rolled her eyes, picking a stray anchovy off her corn chip. “No. Not like Tinkerbell. Tinkerbell is a total misrepresentation of what Faeries are. We aren’t tiny little things that flit around and wave wands… Well, for the most part we aren’t. There are lots of different kinds but none of them are as silly as that.”

  Brendan had finally managed to stop laughing. He stared at Kim in disbelief. “You honestly believe what you’re saying, don’t you. You actually think you’re a fairy.”

  “I don’t think,” Kim stated. “I know. I am a Faerie. And so are you.”

  Brendan tried to take this in. “And him?” He pointed at Borje.

  “No,” Kim said calmly, as if talking to a child. “Obviously, Borje is a Troll.”

  “I already told him this,” Borje complained.

  “Is there a difference?” Brendan asked.

  “A big difference,” Kim answered. “There are a number of different races that inhabit the world beyond Human awareness: Faeries, Trolls, Dwarfs. Look, I don’t have time for a history lesson. We’re safe in here for a little while but the Wards on that door won’t hold in the face of a concerted effort by Orcadia and her helpers. Borje is a Troll and so he is basically neutral. His home is protected under the provisions of the Truce but Orcadia doesn’t appear to respect it any more. She wants you and she’ll stop at nothing, not even the Sacred Truce.”

  Brendan held up his hands. “Hold it! Hold it! None of this makes any sense! What Truce? Who is that crazy woman? Why does she want to kill me? I haven’t done anything to her.”

  “She doesn’t want to kill you, necessarily. She wants to turn you

  … never mind! It doesn’t matter. It’s what you represent. You could shift the balance. There are some Fair Folk who don’t like the status quo. They want to go to war with the Humans. We have to get you to the Swan. We have to get you initiated. Once you’re initiated, you will be in a better position to defend yourself.”

  “Initiated?” Brendan couldn’t absorb anything she was saying. “Initiated into what?”

  “I’ve already said too much.” Kim wiped her mouth with her sleeve. “Listen, I didn’t ask for this job. I was assigned to protect you. Now that fool Deirdre D’Anaan has ruined everything by breaking the glamour that allowed you to hide in the Human world. The only way to ensure you survive and don’t go over to the Darkness is to get you to the Swan and get you initiated. I intend to do that.”

  “Why should I trust you? I didn’t even know your real name until this afternoon. Ki-Mata? Is that even your real name?” Brendan said sullenly.

  “Yes, it’s my real name,” Kim said. “At least, it’s the one I share with others. I have another name, a secret name as well, but that is only shared with those I trust. Breandan is your true name. You’ll get your secret name when you are initiated.” She stood up. “I have to get you to the Swan so that can take place.” 62

  “So you never were my friend,” Brendan said. “You were lying to me all along.”

  Kim didn’t answer. She thoughtfully licked salsa off her fingers. “If it makes you happy to believe that, fine.”

  “I want to go home,” Brendan said.

  “Whether you believe it or not, that’s where I’m taking you,” Kim said softly, without looking at him. “You’ll go to the Swan and be among your own people again.”

  “I’m talking about my mum and dad… and even Delia. I want to go home to my house.”

  “Impossible.” Kim shook her head. “They’ll be tracking their way back there now. They’ll be watching for you. You won’t be safe. They won’t be safe.”

  He stomped to the door and slammed his fist into it. He immediately regretted it. His knuckles stung but he swallowed the pain. “Open this door right now. I demand that you let me go! This is kidnapping!”

  Kim glared at him. “Kidnapping?” She hopped down from the chair and casually pulled the field hockey stick out of her knapsack as she crossed the floor to stand in front of Brendan. He unconsciously pressed his back against the door, shrinking away from her. “I’m tempted to add assault and battery to my list of crimes. But I assure you of one thing, and this you must believe if you believe nothing else. If you do not come with me and do exactly as I say, you will die. Or worse.”

  “What could be worse than dying?”

  “Do you really want to find out?”

  Brendan didn’t know what to say. He looked into her eyes and he saw that she was absolutely serious. Kim put her stick back in her knapsack. “Rest’s over. We have to go.”

  “Wait.” Brendan’s voice stopped her. “How can I take you seriously? I mean, put yourself in my shoes. I’m just supposed to believe you and follow you anywhere you say? You have to give me some proof.”

  Kim cocked her head and looked at him, considering. “Fine. You had a spiral mark on your chest over your heart. I’ve never seen it but I know it was there.” Brendan’s hand went to the spot of its own accord. She continued, “It’s what we call a Ward, a magical safeguard. A Ward is a kind of magic seal, in your case, a mark on your flesh. A glamour was embedded within just after you were born.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Brendan interrupted. “What’s a glamour?”

  Kim crossed her arms, the very picture of exaggerated patience. “A glamour is a magical illusion, a manipulation of earth energy that warps perception. There are many kinds but basically
, it makes people see things differently from the way they actually are. In your case, the glamour allowed you to live hidden among Humans without their knowing you were Faerie. It also hid you from Faerie eyes. And now that magic is gone.”

  “Yeah, it’s gone,” Brendan whispered. “That woman’s little creature ate it in my dream last night.”

  Kim nodded. “All the more reason to hurry. The glamour is wearing off. Look.”

  She pointed to a mirror, more a slab of polished metal that leaned against the wall by the door. Brendan stepped in front of it and gasped.

  He was looking at his own reflection but it was slightly altered. His skin was paler even than normal but it shone with health. The giant pimple he’d been nursing all week was completely gone. All evidence of blemishes, zits, or blackheads (the bane of every teen’s existence) was gone. His hair, normally a bland sandy brown, was shot through with streaks of amber and gold. He held up his hands before his face. The fingers seemed longer, more perfectly formed. He sighed in wonder. He grinned and was shocked to see that his teeth, crooked the day before, were now straight and even, white as snow.

  “You’re taking on Faerie form. Soon the glamour will dissipate completely. Humans will see you for what you really are. That would be bad for us all.”

  “Why bad?”

  “Because we have a touchy relationship with Humans. They like to think we magical races, like Faeries, Trolls, and Dwarfs, don’t exist, and as long as we don’t do anything too outrageous or flamboyant, the Truce is maintained.”

  That was a little disturbing so he focused on Kim. He looked Kim up and down. She was still wearing her school uniform: green kilt, green blazer, and white shirt. She looked like a normal schoolgirl. “And you’re like me?”

  She gave a nod, smirked, and flicked her wrist. Kim shimmered as though she were going out of focus, then her image sharpened again. Her clothes had not changed but her face was different. Not that it had been altered in any major way. Her features were somehow more defined, more elegant.

  Her hair, normally a dull brown, was a lustrous and shining chestnut shot through with strands of silver. She held out her hands and from her palms sprouted tattoos in the shape of vines. As he watched, dumbstruck, the vines, glittering and golden, twined up her forearms and out of sight under her shirt sleeves. She smiled, revealing teeth that shimmered with a tinge of gold as well.

  The corner of her mouth quirked up and the smirk widened. “So? Believe me now?”

  Brendan gulped. “I don’t know what I believe any more.” He suddenly looked at Borje. “Is that what you really look like?”

  Borje rumbled with laughter and pulled at his cheek with his fingers, making his grotesque face slightly more ugly. “Yo! This is all Borje. Good and ugly.”

  “Okay,” Kim snapped. “Show and tell is over. We have to get going.”

  “Hold it!” Brendan said. “One more question.”

  Kim sighed. “Make it quick.”

  “You said the Ward was placed on me at birth, right?”

  “Yeah,” she said impatiently.

  “By who? Who wanted me hidden?”

  Kim frowned. “I should let Ariel tell you. He’s the Eldest among us.”

  “Come on,” Brendan pleaded. “I really want to know.”

  Kim sighed again. “It was your father. Your true father.”

  Brendan was silent then, trying to absorb this bit of news. Then he said, “Where is he? Will I meet him?”

  “That’s a bit complicated,” Kim said. “I’ll have to let Ariel explain.” She tapped the door with her stick. “Right now, we have to get to the Swan. Okay?”

  Brendan shrugged. “What choice do I have?”

  “Now that’s the first smart thing you’ve said today.” Kim grinned. Turning to the Troll, she said, “Borje? The door!”

  Borje raised his hands in protest. “Nay! Not the front door. They whill be expecting that.” He raised the tapestry that led to the kitchen and gestured one giant hand for them to enter.

  They followed Borje across the kitchen. He seemed to love shiny things. The stone coun- tertop was crammed full of the latest appliances: a blender, a shining toaster, a microwave, a food processor, and many other chrome-encrusted gadgets. Borje stopped in front of the fridge, a monolithic slab of stainless steel glimmering in the overhead light.

  Borje patted the polished metal surface lovingly, caressing its smooth surface as if the appliance were a favourite pet. “Amana has a secret, don’t you, girl?” The huge Troll chuckled to himself. He bent over and lifted the entire fridge in his massive hands. Grunting with the effort, he turned and put the fridge on the floor.

  Where the fridge had been was a gaping rectangular hole in the natural rock of the wall. A cool breeze drifted up from the hole. Brendan stepped closer and peered down. Steps, roughly carved from the stone, led down into darkness. The walls ran with water. Brendan felt his stomach sink.

  “This is handy, Borje,” Kim commented, inspecting the entrance.

  “Ya! When I moved down from the old hockey arena Maple Leaf Gardens a few years ago, I had to use subway tunnels. Risky! But when I got here, there whas so much construction, nobody noticed when I borrow few tools and do a little digging of my own.” The vast bulk of his chest jiggled with childish laughter. “I dig right under their noses. Now, I can go and whatch the baseball game if I whant or go to the train station or even down to the Harbourfront whithout going upside. Very convenient!”

  “It’ll do,” Kim decided, all business now. “C’mon, Brendan. Let’s move.”

  “No way,” Brendan said firmly. “I’m not going down there.”

  Kim glared at him. “There’s no other way.”

  “I’ve had enough of tunnels. It’s dark and I can’t go down there. And another thing…”

  “You’re scared?” Kim offered, eyebrow cocked in derision.

  Brendan flushed angrily. “Shouldn’t I be? You’ve said yourself that people want to kill me or capture me. Why, I have no idea! And now we’re going to blunder around in the dark? That’s your plan?”

  Their argument was interrupted by a bloodcurdling, shrieking howl. The cry echoed through the stone and into Brendan’s head like the scratch of fingernails on a chalkboard. His skin crawled as the wailing howl sounded again, closer this time. He felt panic climbing up his throat.

  “Kobolds!” 63 Kim’s head whipped around and her pale skin became paler still. “They’ve got the scent,” she cried. “They’re coming fast. We have to go.”

  “They whon’t dare come through here,” Borje growled. “They can’t break my Whards.”

  “Given time, Orcadia could do anything,” Kim said. She turned and glared at Brendan. “She’ll risk anything to get hold of Brendan. We have to go now.”

  Brendan decided he’d rather brave the tunnels than face whatever was making that howling. He looked up into Borje’s yellow eyes and tried to smile. The Troll smiled back, a slightly terrifying proposition, considering the state of his teeth. Brendan reached up and grasped one giant finger and shook it. “Thanks, Borje. I don’t really understand everything yet, but I think you’re a friend.”

  “That’s enough for me,” Borje rumbled. “It’s a pleasure and an honour to have helped, Your Highness.” The Troll dipped his head in an awkward bow.

  Kim glared at Borje, who snapped his mouth shut.

  “Highness? You called me prince back at the school. What is that all about?” Brendan demanded. A gut-wrenching howl cut off any reply. Kim grabbed Brendan by the arm and hauled him down the steps.

  “Go, Leafs, go!” Borje cried as they plunged into darkness, and with that incongruous exhortation ringing in his ears, Brendan entered Toronto’s Undertown.

  62 In the Faerie culture, one’s secret name is very important. Those who know it have power over an individual.

  63 Kobolds are another magical race of Germanic origin. They are shape-shifters and expert trackers. Kobolds are akin to Dwarfs but smaller i
n stature, preferring dark subterranean tunnels to the open air. They are incredibly mischievous and devious, with a loathing for most Humans.

  THE TUNNELS

  The steps were uneven. More than once Brendan had to thrust out a hand to brace himself against the stone wall. His hands were soon frigid and slimy with whatever microbes clustered in such miserable underground places.

  Brendan had lost count after sixty-seven steps. He was becoming disoriented as he stumbled after taking another step downward where there was no step to be had. He almost turned his ankle when his questing foot encountered the floor.

  “Which way?” Kim said in the darkness. Her voice was surprisingly loud, echoing off the stone walls.

  “I have no idea,” Brendan said. “I can’t see a thing.”

  “It’s funny,” Kim said, her voice now closer. “You are able to do some things naturally but others, like your Faerie Sight, they haven’t kicked in yet.”

  “Faerie Sight?” Brendan asked.

  “It’s impossible to describe. Let’s just say, to keep it simple, Faeries can see really well in the dark. Obviously, you haven’t got the knack yet, so…”

  A soft yellow glow flared to life in the darkness. Kim held her field hockey stick aloft. The curved head of the stick was wreathed in a golden nimbus of flame. When his eyes finished smarting at the sudden glare, Brendan marvelled to see that the wood of the stick was not burning. “How are you doing that?”

  Kim snorted with laughter. “You’re so new, it’s hilarious.” Looking at Brendan’s face, she sensed he didn’t see the humour. “Seriously, you’ve got a lot to learn. But we’ve got to get moving. We’ll talk as we go. First, we have to decide which way.”

  She raised the club and their surroundings came into focus.

  Brendan saw they were in a rough-hewn, circular chamber where three passages joined. Scrawled on the walls was the ubiquitous graffiti. “Dwarfs!” Kim shook her head in disgust. “There are three possible routes and they aren’t marked in any way. Ridiculous Troll! I’ll have to go back up and ask him.” Kim started back toward the stairs.