The Dwarven Wars

by Leah Cutter

  She pressed her lips together firmly and didn’t look up. She shouldn’t say things like that to Dale, to either of her kids. She should be more focused on getting away.

  Dale stepped into the room. He carried a dark blue roller-bag in one hand. “Look. At least we’re leaving before the attack. And we have a good story about me getting stuck in the basement, and needing to leave for a few days so the place can be fumigated.”

  Denise nodded. Leaving before the dwarves came didn’t make it better, actually. She just had to believe Dale when he told her that there were magical traps set all around the house.

  Though she had met the fairies. And Kostya.

  A part of her still wished magic wasn’t real.

  “I’ll be fine,” Denise assured Dale as she opened started pulling things out of her bureau and tossing them into her suitcase. Socks. Underwear. Bras.

  “We’ll get through this. I should have applied for colleges out of state,” Dale said.

  Denise turned on him sharply. “Do not blame yourself. Besides, at least we know the dangers. What would have happened if we’d moved? The traps still would have been here. The new owners would have been helpless.”

  “True,” Dale said grudgingly. “I’ll take this out to the car,” he added, hefting his suitcase.

  Denise nodded. They’d decided to take one car, hers, and leave his here. Dale didn’t know if the dwarves could tell if someone was home or not without knocking on the door. By leaving a car here, he’d hoped to at least throw the dwarves off some, make them think someone was home.

  Keep them watching the place. Divide their forces.

  Denise didn’t ask what Dale thought would happen in a week. Would the dwarves be finished with their attacks? Would the fairies be gone? Or would something have happened to Brett?

  She just hoped he was right, and that in a week’s time their lives could be back to normal.

  Well, back to what stood for normal for her family.

  Nothing, nothing about this mission had gone according to plan.

  Ivan stomped through the long tunnel. The scouts claimed to have evidence of yet another creature to be wary of.

  Had any portion of Kostya’s report been true? He’d written lyrically of a land of easy magic and decadent creatures, kingdoms ripe for the taking.

  Instead of an easy route, they’d found traps set by their own kind. Magic did exist in the New World, yes, but not as plentiful as promised.

  And now this.

  “I’m here. What do you have?” Ivan growled as he exited the tunnel and came out to the dreary day, with more rain dripping from the leaden skies. Though it wasn’t as cold as home, it did seem to constantly rain.

  The two scouts looked at each other, then one shoved a mechanical device forward.

  Ivan cautiously reached for the thing. It looked like old-fashioned clockwork. Varlaam had a couple of heirloom pieces tucked away with his treasures: a windup horse tall enough and strong enough to take a dwarven child across the room, along with a crystal egg that, when wound, played music and cast a show of lights.

  They’d all been built by human Tinkers for dwarven children.

  Ivan turned the piece the scouts had found on its side. It was about a foot long and cylindrical. It had the same feel as Varlaam’s heirloom pieces, slightly clunky, not fine enough for dwarven work.

  Ivory panels covered the conical ends. Three large brass rings made up the center. They all turned easily. Horses, lions, elephants, sharks, monkeys, and other creatures were engraved on the rings.

  Ivan realized excitedly that it was a puzzle toy. Different combinations of creatures would unlock either the ivory panels at either end, or possibly some hidden compartment in the center. Delighted, Ivan examined the toy from all sides.

  Had Kostya had children? None of the reports had ever even hinted at that.

  Then again, how accurate had the reports been?

  Before Ivan could try to line up the dials, to see if he could feel his way to the first combination, the healer Erasyl appeared beside him.

  “Don’t!” the young man cried.

  Ivan froze.

  Erasyl reached over Ivan’s shoulder and carefully lifted the toy from his hands. Then he turned it, showing Ivan the hidden needle between two of the rings that would have pricked him before too long. The needle was as thin as a bee stinger, short and squat.

  Ivan found he had to clear his throat before any words could come out. “What is that?”

  Erasyl sniffed at the needle. “I’m not sure,” he said slowly. He carefully rubbed his finger along the edge of it, then tasted it with the tip of his tongue. He immediately bent over and spat. “Poison,” he croaked.

  “Poison?” Ivan said, incredulous. “Who would create such a thing?” Then he remembered that more than one of Kostya’s mentioned a human Tinker nearby. Kostya had been teaching the Tinker’s sister, a Maker, how to do magic. But the Tinker had always been jealous of his sister’s power.

  “The Tinker,” Ivan growled. “He lives near here. Do we know where?”

  One of the scouts pointed. “Kostya had a trail that led directly to a human neighborhood,” he said, indicating a clear path just a short distance away. “Possibly the human lives nearby.”

  “We’ll deal with him next,” Ivan promised. “After the first raid on the fairies.” He was sure the warriors would like some easy prey after the first battle.

  Nothing had gone according to plan. Therefore, he was hedging his bets, certain their first raid on the fairies would be a disaster, too.

  He’d appoint the bard who’d crafted the songs about their great journey (and Ivan’s weak stomach) to lead the attack.

  “Where are we going?” Denise asked Dale as he pulled onto a side road. “Why are we stopping?”

  Dale didn’t answer but merely parked the car. “I have to warn them,” he said after a moment.

  “Who?” Denise said. Then she realized where they were. The path to the abandoned house led off on Dale’s side, just in front of where he’d stopped. “The fairies?”

  Dale nodded. “It’s only fair.”

  “They’ll find out soon enough,” Denise said.

  “Right. When the dwarves actually attack them. Pouring through the fairy tunnels with their axes,” Dale said.

  “Can’t we warn them later?” Denise asked as Dale opened his door.

  “I don’t know how,” Dale said as he got out of the car. “You stay here. I’ll just be a moment.”

  Denise nodded. She really didn’t want to go back to the abandoned house that marked one of the entrances to the fairy kingdom.

  Besides, that way the fairies would see that Dale was safe.

  She shook her head. No. The reason she didn’t want to go was because that place disturbed her at a gut level. She wasn’t sure why—probably the magic.

  Damn it! She wasn’t going to be afraid of some stupid fairies. Even though they were ugly and had magical powers.

  Denise shoved her door open and stormed up the trail. Dale shouldn’t have to face those creatures alone.

  Just as she cleared the tall, dried grass, she saw the fairies. Good. They’d probably come the moment Dale had addressed them.

  Stupid fairies.

  It was only as she drew nearer that she realized that two fairies carried a long burden between them.

  Dale. Unconscious.

  And they were about to take him through the door of the abandoned house, carrying him to the fairy kingdom below.

  Edeline flitted from tree to tree, calling out, “It’s here! It’s here!” This was going to be their new kingdom. She was certain of it.

  An old white-stone hill rose up just past the trees. It was hollow. Just under the ground lay a series of tunnels. It wouldn’t take much work to open up the hill, to turn it into a gateway to what lay below.

  The trees themselves were mostly pines, evergreens that could be enchanted to act as guardians.

  But the best part of a
ll was the clearing. It was perfectly round and covered in soft, bright-green grass, even this late in the season. Brilliant mushrooms popped up along the edges—red with white bumps over the tops.

  The clearing looked as though it had been purposely built for fairies to dance in. Edeline could easily imagine the moon shining brightly through the trees onto the fairies below, gleefully dancing. They might even do a bonfire in the center of it.

  Percy flew over and rested beside her on a branch. “We agree,” he said solemnly. “This place is adequate.”

  Edeline couldn’t contain her sniff of disdain. “Adequate?” she asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

  “The workers will need to make it habitable,” Percy said waving a hand toward the towering white rocks. “Too many humans come through here now, as well.”

  Edeline pressed her lips together, but stopped herself from nodding. Percy was right about the humans. The lower level of the rocks bore ugly human graffiti. And the inside of the cave reeked with human urine. Someone had been using this place as a latrine.

  The human hikers in these woods would just have to go elsewhere. Edeline trusted in the magical abilities of Sebastian and the others to keep the humans away from this area.

  It was too perfect for the fairies not to take.

  “Everyone will be so excited when we tell them about their new home!” Edeline finally said.

  “Ah, about that…” Percy said slowly.

  “What about it?” Edeline asked. Did Percy think they should continue their search? But it was the perfect place!

  Edeline had already started planning her crowning ceremony. The trees surrounding the clearing would have trails of moonlit gauze hanging from their boughs. Sparkling dew would cover the grass, aided by magic. The brilliant toadstools at the edges would be enlarged, enhanced so that fairies could sit on them.

  “We don’t think that we should go back with you,” Percy said, “to the old kingdom.”

  “And why not?” Edeline asked frostily. Was Percy just too weak to fly back? Hadn’t he enjoyed spreading his wings, getting stronger? He wasn’t meeting her eye, but rather, looking out over the fairy circle.

  Percy made a face, as if he’d just smelled a rotten fish. “Really, it should be the responsibility of the warriors to return. They’re the ones used to flying long distances. We royals shouldn’t have to demean ourselves.”

  Edeline considered for a moment. Percy had a point. Fairies of the royal caste didn’t usually fly so far.

  But that didn’t mean that they couldn’t fly such distances. Or that they shouldn’t.

  How had their parents and grandparents reached the Oregon Fairy Kingdom, if not by flying? The ships they’d originally landed in had dropped them off on the far west coast.

  “Besides, we have far too much preparation to do first,” Percy added.

  “Like what?” Edeline asked. She didn’t think he was talking about her crowning ceremony. She hadn’t made the announcement yet that she was to ascend to the throne. It wasn’t time. Not until after she’d brought her people here, victorious.

  “Well, I probably shouldn’t tell you, but I am going to be crowned king,” Percy said. “Floyd agreed that I was probably the best suited, of the pair of us.”

  “Did he now,” Edeline said flatly.

  How dare he? How dared Percy usurp her rightful place?

  “We know that you can’t be queen,” Percy said, shaking his head. “You’re too short. If it wasn’t for your impeccable background, no one would have even admitted you to the ranks of the royals.”

  “Really,” Edeline said. Her hot anger receded, leaving her with ice-cold rage. “There’s more to being a royal than just looking good in flowing gowns and decorated wings.”

  “What on earth are you talking about?” Percy asked. He blinked, finally looking at her.

  Edeline assumed that her eyes were rimmed with red, showing just how furious she actually was. “It’s called leading, something you’ve never done a day in your life.”

  “Really?” Percy said, smirking. “I led our people here, didn’t I? And isn’t that how the oral histories will record it, once I am king?”

  “Only if you survive,” Edeline said. She couldn’t help the grin she gave him.

  “I beg your pardon?” Percy said.

  Good. At least he looked a little alarmed.

  Edeline didn’t bother explaining what she meant. She just attacked.

  Nora stomped away from Rainy’s office, fuming.

  Of course, no one could do anything for Nora’s family. They lived too far away. Dale and her mom would just have to survive the attack from the dwarves on their own.

  Damn it! Nora pushed through the glass door of the house converted into offices, and stepped onto the busy Portland street. At least the rain had let up—it was just gray, overcast, and as miserable as Nora felt.

  She continued her angry stomp down the sidewalk. People approaching her swerved to one side or the other in order to get out of her way. A blond hipster guy smoking a vape cigarette muttered loud enough for her to hear, “Dude. Lighten up.”

  Nora wished she could turn and blast him with a fireball. She wouldn’t, however. That would go against all her training. Magic wasn’t known in the mundane world. They had to hide.

  It wasn’t until she was half a block away that she thought of the perfect comeback line: she sure hoped someone would tell him to just “lighten up” when his mother was dying.

  Though technically her mother wasn’t dying. She was still afraid for her life.

  It made her as angry as the men who told her to smile. How dare they?

  Nora nearly stormed into someone coming out of the next shop. “Sorry! Sorry!” she said as she stepped aside and avoided spilling the person’s groceries all over the street.

  She needed to get hold of herself.

  Nora took a deep breath, then started walking again. Still determined, still with an edge to her stride, but no longer a danger to herself and to others.

  Well, not until she her plans of revenge came to fruition, at any rate.

  As soon as Nora got back to her dorm room, she tore apart the stack of books on her desk, looking for the one she’d surreptitiously “borrowed” from Rainy’s library.

  There it was. The full title was “Tricks and Traps To Make a Garden Grow.” It had been written in the 1930s, supposedly for keeping bugs and snails out of an herb garden. What Nora had learned, however, was that there were frequently texts contained within texts, obvious only to magicians who knew how to read between the lines and tease out the hidden spells.

  The title of this book had caught her eye when she’d been in Rainy’s office at the start of the school year. Rainy had already told Nora that she could borrow any of the books in the office.

  Normally, Nora would have asked first. She knew she should have. Rainy probably would have said yes. For all that Nora knew, Rainy was already aware that her student had the book.

  However, Rainy might have objected. Which was why Nora had just taken the book.

  The magic hidden among the tricks for getting rid of slugs (beer) and for dealing with spiders (planting lemon verbena and spraying with tobacco-infused water) seemed darker than the other books Nora had touched.

  She was still learning how to tease apart the magical spells intertwined with the human tips. This book felt sticky, though. The spells remained with her, the tricks and traps sneaking into her other work.

  She’d found the book very useful, and had recreated a couple of the spells, using them to protect her dorm and making sure that Brett couldn’t get in.

  Now, she was going to use it to trap him.

  Beer wouldn’t work as bait. She already knew that, though she did find that the image of beer troughs scattered along the edges of her room made her smile for the first time that morning.

  No, the only thing that would attract Brett would be weakness. A hole that he thought he could worm his way th
rough.

  Nora would have to make the hole very, very carefully. It couldn’t be any larger than a pinhole. And she’d have to make the edges of it sticky, so that Brett couldn’t just slide through. She’d have to weave it such that it would take him time to work through it.

  He’d figure out—too late—that the hole itself was a trap. He wouldn’t be able to leave easily. He’d be stuck there, helpless.

  At Nora’s mercy.

  Or lack thereof.

  She picked up the soft alpaca that she’d been intending to make a scarf out of for Dale. The black yarn slid through her fingers. It was soft, yes. But the hairs stuck everywhere.

  For a moment, Nora imagined knitting a spider out of the yarn. It would be fierce, grotesquely bloated, patiently waiting in the center of its web for its prey.

  Nora shook herself, trying to get the image out of her head.

  She wasn’t a poisonous spider waiting for an innocent victim. She was a shining knight, hunting a monster.

  Flori was wrong, warning Nora about her revenge.

  Only Brett’s death, at her own hands, would satisfy her.

  Sebastian left the palace, discouraged as always. Stupid royals. While Cornelius at least seemed to have caught a clue that his “kingdom” was in danger of extinction, he stubbornly insisted on waiting until the youngsters returned before doing anything. It had only been a week since Edeline and the others had left, but Sebastian still thought the fairies in the kingdom needed to go. Now.

  The rest of the court was just as idiotic. Imogene, in particular, had been more annoying than usual, insisting that they could fight the Old One.

  Though it wouldn’t be the royals fighting, but the warriors and workers that they’d send out to die.

  The path Sebastian walked along—leading from the ornate stone palace and going past the plain wooden barracks of the warriors—was ill-maintained. The center of the path should have been delightfully soft earth, with charming white rocks outlining it. Instead, the ground had been pounded harsh by too many feet, and the rocks looked dull and weren’t aligned properly. All the trails around the palace should have been lovely, a constant reminder of beauty and joy.