by Augusta Li
The gentleman continued down the hill, his back to the rest of them. He turned onto a narrow path to the left and into a thicket of old, gray trees. As he walked briskly, kicking up powder, he said, “This is the country of Magyary, far to the east of our island home. It is a wild place, populated by spirits unknown to your people. You’ll want to take care after dark, Reginald.” He stopped in front of a cottage built of logs: quaint but spacious. The house had two stories, rows of windows, and a slate roof. “This home was the refuge of a wizard banned from your country. He crossed the sea and then most of the continent, to avoid persecution from your authorities. He was a great friend to my kind. Of course, this was decades ago. I can only assume he died or moved on. Still, this house has paths leading directly to my lands, and he protected it with powerful spells. No one will trouble your friends, Mr. Knotte. Provided they don’t leave the shelter of its walls after sunset. If they are so foolish, I dare say the human’s soft flesh and sweet blood will summon all manner of demons. During the day, the creatures’ fear of my wrath will keep them off, but after dark their hunger will compel them.” He opened the door to let Reg, Querry, and Frolic inside. The house smelled of dust and disuse. “Will this suffice?” the faerie asked without attempting to mask his impatience.
“Yes,” Querry said quickly. “Thank you.”
“I don’t doubt your companion will enjoy the local cuisine. Some of the best food in the world: fresh pork and chicken, smothered in rich cream and paprika. Flaky pastries stuffed with apricot and poppy seed. The local wine is excellent as well. But enough. Querrilous, can we be off?”
Querry turned to Reg’s face. His skin looked pale and his eyes tired. “I’ll bring Frolic inside,” he said. He didn’t have to force his smile; he looked forward to his adventure with his faerie more than he’d ever want Reg to know. “Get some rest. This shouldn’t take long.”
“I just hope to God you know what you’ve done,” Reg said. He kissed Querry’s cheek, and they went together to a padded bench beside the kitchen window. Morning sun lit Frolic’s smooth face. Querry set him down, touched his full bottom lip and nodded with conviction.
“Do as my gentleman says,” Querry said, reaching up to smooth Reg’s hair. “Please be careful. I’ll be back as soon as I can.
“I will,” Reg said with a strained smile, “so long as you never call him that again.”
“Sorry,” Querry mumbled, looking down at his boots. “I’m going to make this all right, I swear.”
“Querrilous!” the gentleman called from the small excuse for a yard beyond the cottage.
“I have to go,” Querry said, kissing Reg softly. He hated the finality he felt even as he anticipated his journey. Why did it feel like he was leaving them forever?
“Come back soon, my love.”
“I will. To both of you.”
QUERRY hurried to follow the gentleman as he walked briskly down the trail, clearly eager to distance himself from Reg. To confirm, he said, “Truly, Mr. Knotte, I don’t know how you can tolerate the presence of that dull, little man. I suppose you’re just being charitable. Certainly you must be delighted at the company of someone more worthy of you.”
“I am looking forward to it,” Querry admitted. “Where must we go?”
“Back to my mansion. I’m having a party this evening. We both must wash and dress.”
Querry stopped on the path as a horrible realization descended on him like night falling. “Do you mean to help me, as you said, sir? Or do you just want me away from Reg?” He feared he’d forget about Reg and Frolic as soon as the faerie music began to play and his body twirled in the arms of the gentleman. How would he resist it?
The faerie spun to face him, a dangerous look on his beautiful face. “I swore to help you and I will help you, so long as you continue to please me. You have no idea how much I indulge you, Querrilous. You truly have no idea.”
Though he understood for the first time the danger he’d placed himself in, Querry hurried to keep up with the faerie. When they reached the edge of a cliff, the gentleman offered Querry his arm. Fractured light of every color swirled around him, and the next thing he knew he was on his hands and knees in the foyer of the gentleman’s great house. As Querry gripped the carpet and tried not to retch, he saw the gentleman hand his coat to his trollish butler. “Draw a bath,” he told the small creature, who hurried off to obey. “Ugh, I feel filthy.”
Querry struggled to his feet, holding his head, and looked around. Everything in the house had been carved from light colored stone: the floor, walls, shelves, mantles, and stairs curving up. The décor seemed sparse and plain in comparison to Querry’s jeweled and gilded memories of the place. The rugs and tapestries were ancient and threadbare. In several corners tangles of vines had worked their way in from the outer walls. Some of them stretched across the ceiling, dropping leaves in piles to the floor. As he followed his host up the steps, Querry noticed some of the large rooms held collections of odd junk like magpie nests: all manner of elaborate chairs filled one, and a pile of blue glass bottles reached the ceiling in another. On his way toward the bath chamber, Querry saw a room stacked with balls of yarn and spools of ribbon, with more bright strips hanging from the ceiling like banners. He saw an armory filled with weapons both familiar and bizarre. A rounded alcove collected baby shoes, from poor and tattered to ridiculously ornate, on a stone shelf. But only the left shoes, Querry noted with a shudder.
They finally reached the bath, a natural spring complete with curly rushes and water lilies on the top floor. Somehow, even three or four stories high, water trickled down a rocky ledge and into a round crater. It reminded Querry of the waterfall in Dink’s menagerie, and the recollection triggered all his memories of the night he’d spent beside it. It had been the best night of his life, and he resolved to stay true to his mission, even as he watched the gentleman disrobe and ease his stunning body into the water. Querry joined him, delighted at the liquid’s unexpected warmth. The water itself had a floral fragrance, so that they needed no soap. At the faerie’s request, Querry helped him dress and comb his hair. He presented Querry with a night-blue suit with long tails and silver buttons, a waistcoat embroidered with stars, and a matching silk top hat adorned with a blue rose.
When they’d prepared, Querry took the gentleman’s arm and walked back down the stairs, through the foyer and into the ballroom. They sat side by side at the head of a long, wooden table. Trays of fruit and berries swollen with juice tempted the thief, but he disciplined himself against their allure, even refusing a goblet of water. The feast stretched on for hours and hours. Though slightly fuzzy, Querry fought hard and retained enough of his lucidity to begin to grow bored. Many seated at the meal eyed him with unhidden envy. His host retired to a carved wooden chair, and Querry stood with his hand on the arm. A line of fey waited to offer gifts to the gentleman: string, polished spoons, bird skulls, mirrors, and lead pencils that the gentleman brought to his nose to smell. A few presented fair-haired, human children, which the bat-eared butler and his staff quickly herded down dark hallways. After each gift, the faerie turned to Querry and described in gory detail the way he’d razed the giver’s lands to the ground or caused the earth to swallow up his entire clan.
“And for so grievous an insult as comparing her musicians to mine,” he said of a pink-haired woman in a gown of rose petals, “I caused all the stones of the mountainside to fling themselves at her and her household, until she alone remained alive and crawled bloody to me, begging for mercy.” He looked expectantly at Querry.
“Er, well done.” The parade of supplicants thinned to a trickle of stragglers, and between them Querry said, “Sir, your power is so great and overwhelming that I have to wonder why you’d need to hire me to retrieve a pair of boots.”
In lieu of an answer, he replied, “Those were such good times.” The gentleman’s hand draped over Querry’s on the arm of the chair.
“I wonder,” Querry pressed, “why, with all o
f the enemies you’ve defeated that you’d let someone like Lord Thimbleroy rail against your kind. Why in the world not just kill him?”
“Kill him?” the gentleman said. “Whatever for? He’s done me the greatest service!”
“What do you mean? He’d see your kind destroyed!”
“Would he?” the gentleman mused. “Even after he opened the way for us to come into your world?”
“He—What?” Querry gasped. “Are you certain?”
“Oh, quite! I remember watching him trying to tear through. Very entertaining, if a little pitiful. He brought one wizard after another to attempt it. Most of them were laughably inept, though. Your people have forgotten nearly everything they learned from mine.” He shook his head with feigned regret.
Querry couldn’t understand. He didn’t know which of the many questions flitting through his brain needed asking first. “He hates faeries,” he muttered, shaking his head.
“He spared no expense to open the gateway to our realm.”
“But, if you wanted to come here, why not just come? Why would you need Thimbleroy to clear the way for you?”
The gentleman’s lips curled into a sour expression. “An ancient contract forbids us from coming to this realm unless summoned.” He spat out the last word like tainted wine. “We could not breach the barrier, until he found a magician able to blow it open.”
“When was this?” Querry asked.
“Just now. Two or three decades past.”
“I can’t imagine,” Querry said, rubbing his temples. “Why would he bring you here, open the door to your lands, only to demand that you be driven off?”
“How should I know?” the gentleman said, thrusting his palms toward the ceiling theatrically. Some golden cider splashed out of his stone cup. “I can’t see a reason to trouble myself over his motives. I have nothing to fear from the likes of him or anyone in his employ.”
“Sir, I must ask why you originally sent me to the house on Tinkerton and Grace!”
“Ah,” the faerie said, smiling languidly. “I sensed a very strong magic concealed within that place. I was curious. I felt, I’m not sure how to express this, but I knew that the house was integral to our story. Important.”
“Do you have any idea what you set in motion? Did you mean to do it?”
“Well, I meant to do something! I wasn’t sure at the time what it was. I knew only that the secret within those walls would be pivotal to our adventures together. And here is Lady Anteres, leader of the wanderers of the Forlorn Waste.”
“Magnificent Lord,” said a woman draped head to toe in gauzy, red cloth. Querry could see the shape of her head and body beneath the fabric, and her spectral black wings and glowing coal eyes. The sheath-like garment trailed in tattered layers behind her. “Will you let my people rest from their drifting? Will you lift your curse on us, and free us from the Red Sands? I offer these, for your pleasure.” She knelt, bowed her head, and presented him a bouquet of poppy-like blooms that smelled of cinnamon and sulfur. In the silent seconds that followed, Querry heard them crackling.
“Be off,” the gentleman said with a wave of his hand. The red-clad woman backed away and went scurrying. The fey stood and turned to Querry, a wide grin lighting his face. With one hand he held the proffered blooms, and with the other he squeezed Querry’s waist and drew their bellies close. His brilliant, green eyes locked with Querry’s confused, blue ones, and he offered the arrangement. “For you, Mr. Knotte. Fire-flowers.”
Chapter Seventeen
QUERRY woke, though he didn’t remember falling asleep, in a pile of leaves that felt as though cut from velvet. He rolled to his side and swiped his hand over his face, brushing the top hat away. He pawed at his waist and felt relieved to find his night-sky clothing intact. Gradually he sat up and looked blearily around the stone hall. As soon as he stood, a light breeze whisked away his verdant bed, and it disappeared. In its place a little round stand materialized, and on top sat a silver platter of berries, cakes, tarts, cheeses and a pot of tea. Even though he knew better, Querry’s stomach, empty for two days now, compelled him to eat. Afterward he wandered through the house, looking for his host. He found his original clothing and gear on the top floor where they’d bathed and changed into it. The faerie and his serving staff remained elusive. Querry wandered about the abode. Did it connect with the modern mansion and the underground cavern? Were they one in the same somehow? He couldn’t find any way to reach beyond the foyer, bath, ballroom, and the cells where the gentleman stored his bizarre treasure. Feeling woozy and light, as if he’d breakfasted on several bottles of Reg’s good merlot instead of fruit and bread, he browsed the strange items. Some of them he couldn’t even identify. One room held dozens of mirrors. Some of them returned Querry’s reflection; he looked better than he had in ages, with smooth, glowing skin, rosy cheeks, and clear sapphire eyes. It didn’t surprise him, seeing himself thus, that the faerie gentleman lavished him with attention.
Some of the mirrors showed Querry distant paths leading up mountains or along rocky beaches. One, he felt sure, showed the road that led to the little house where Reg and Frolic waited. Querry touched the surface, and it jiggled like gelatin. He managed, with some effort, to press his fingers through the skin on the surface and feel the cold wind of the eastern climate. Doing so sapped his strength, so he quickly withdrew his hand and went to inspect the other glasses. Within one blackened frame Querry found a vast universe of fire: flame as far as his eye could see in every direction. He stared into it, mesmerized by the flickering lights and shadows. His breath caught when he noticed a tiny sliver of gold that he’d mistaken for just another tongue of flame. Squinting, he recognized the faerie gentleman far in the distance, struggling unarmed with a huge lizard made of orange light. The two of them wrestled and fought, one gaining the advantage and then the other. At one point the creature pinned the fey beneath it, and opened its mouth to strike at his head. Just in time, the gentleman spread his fingers in front of his face and shielded himself with golden light. When the lizard made contact, it fell to the side, stunned. Wasting no time, the faerie wrapped his elbow around its throat, trapping it in a headlock. Its clawed feet flailed, and its elongated body twisted for a few minutes before it fell still.
The gentleman got to his feet, swooned, and fell to his knees, head hanging. Acting on instinct, Querry pushed through the barrier to aid him. The hot air, incomparable to even the factory, scorched his skin and dried his eyes and mouth. He smelled his hair burning and felt the soles of his feet blistering, though there was nothing solid beneath them. His frantic journey to help his gentleman felt more like wading through molten wax than running. He finally reached the other man and crouched beside him.
“Querrilous,” the fey panted. “What are you doing here? Get out!”
“You’re hurt,” Querry said. Tears fell from his eyes and instantly evaporated from his cheeks. “Let me help you!”
“I am fine. Just, tired. Must finish. You, ugh—You must go back.”
“Not without you. I need you.”
“Very well. Help me up.”
Querry put his arm around the gentleman’s waist, and they staggered to their feet. The gentleman took a small bottle from somewhere within the hide loincloth he wore, uncorked it and held the open end out to the unconscious lizard. His body convulsed in Querry’s arms, and he stumbled back with a grunt. “Can’t trap it. Too weak.”
“Can I help?” Querry asked.
“Concentrate on drawing it in,” the faerie said.
Querry tried as hard as he could. Soon his whole body shook, and he couldn’t keep his footing, let alone support the faerie. Both of them crumpled, but the faerie’s arm remained extended. He cried out, and his bottle sucked the creature inside. He replaced the cork and promptly went limp in Querry’s arms. Querry tried to lift the gentleman but found himself too depleted. Instead he draped his body over his back like a shawl and held his forearms in front of his chest. Slowly he made hi
s way toward the silver rectangle so far in the distance. When he reached it, though, he hadn’t the strength to push through.
“Sir!” Querry hissed. “We need to get through. I can’t do it. Please wake up.”
The gentleman didn’t respond. Sparkles danced at the edges of Querry’s vision; he knew he wouldn’t survive much longer.
“Sir!” He reached over his shoulder and swatted the side of the faerie’s head. Finally he jolted awake, grumbling. “Get us out of here,” Querry urged.
He waved his hand and said a word like soft rain against the surface of a lake, and the two of them somersaulted through the portal. They landed on their backs in the stone room, and Querry didn’t even have the energy to lift his head. His skin still felt on fire. Even his innards burned. His charred throat choked on a sob of pain. His eyes closed on their own, and he didn’t know if they’d open again. With his last scrap of strength, he turned toward the gentleman and said, “If I don’t make it, please promise me you’ll fix Frolic anyway.”
“Don’t, make it?” the fey croaked with a dry chuckle. “Ridiculous.” He said another word in his tongue. To Querry it resembled gentle thunder. He could smell the storm, and soon felt refreshing rain on his face. When he could open his eyes again, he saw dark clouds covering the ceiling. Healing water fell over his singed body and pooled inches thick on the floor. Querry opened his mouth and let it trickle down his throat. For a long time he just lay in the cool dampness. Soon he felt as good as new. He looked at his exposed fingertips, expecting blisters, and found none.
The gentleman sat up beside him, his wet hair dripping down his svelte torso. He looked at Querry with unmasked awe and admiration. “I wasn’t wrong about you,” he said, touching Querry’s cheekbone. “You were brilliant. I never would have imagined one of your kind could accomplish something like that. We two shall do great things. We’ll be legends.”
