The Last Adventure of Constance Verity

by A. Lee Martinez

  Tia picked herself up. “I wasn’t ready.”

  “You attacked me.”

  Tia, fists held up, approached more cautiously. Connie let her get within inches.

  “Are you going to throw a punch or just stare at me?”

  Tia kicked. She wasn’t certain what happened next, but she ended up on the floor again.

  “Nice try,” said Connie.

  Tia sat up. “What’s this prove? That you’re a better fighter than me? Of course you’re a better fighter. Why wouldn’t you be?”

  “It proves that you can’t handle this.”

  “I don’t get it. I’ve been on adventures with you before. Remember when my wedding reception was disrupted by those mob goons? Or that time I was kidnapped by swamp monsters? Or the dozens of other times I’ve been dragged into your craziness.”

  “Those times were different,” said Connie. “You were a victim of circumstances. You didn’t ask to get involved.”

  “So, I still have more experience than most people. I may not be a master of alien karate, but I’m not some average person. I’ve seen stuff. I’ve proven I can keep my head in an emergency.”

  “Yes, you have, but there’s still a difference. All those other times, I was saving you. This time, I’m letting you come along. If something bad happens to you, it’ll be my fault.”

  Tia snorted. “No offense, Connie, but get over yourself. It might feel like it sometimes, but the universe doesn’t revolve around you. I make my own decisions. Nobody was making me be your friend all these years. I made that choice, and it has been a bumpy ride now and then, but I’m not some responsibility you’re forced to carry with you. It’s a two-way thing. I could’ve walked away at any time, but I didn’t. Did you ever ask why?”

  “Because you’re an assassin waiting for the word to strike?” Connie grinned as she said it, but Tia noticed Connie adopting a combat stance.

  “Because you’re the one person in this world I could always count on, and I’m not talking about saving my life, which you do regularly. I’m talking about being there when I really need you. Remember when my marriage fell apart? Who was there with a beer and a shoulder to cry on? Or when my dad died? You were the one who made me leave my house.”

  “Funny,” said Connie. “I always think of myself as screwing up your life.”

  “You do that too, but that’s how friendship works. We try to be there for each other, and we’re not perfect, but this is important. And I’m going to be there for you. So, if this is what it takes, then I’ll prove I have the determination to make it.” She raised her fists.

  Connie crossed her arms. “No, that’s not it at all. If all it took was determination, then every stubborn idiot would be out there having adventures. It’s about ability. If you don’t have the skills, you shouldn’t be involved.”

  “Maybe I don’t have the combat skills, but I’ve got other talents.”

  “Next you’ll tell me you’re street-smart. That’s not a thing, by the way. Okay, so if you can’t hit me, what can you do?”

  “I’m great at math.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “It might come in handy,” said Tia. “Like that time your horticulture knowledge saved Cleveland.”

  “When Cleveland is under attack by algebra, I’ll be sure to keep you in mind.”

  “This isn’t fair. You’ve had a lifetime of experience.”

  “No, it isn’t. Yes, I have. Now stop bitching about it and impress me.”

  Tia lowered her fists.

  “Okay, I get it. You want me to realize that I’m not ever going to be able to stand up to you and find a better way.”

  Connie grunted. “Goddamn it, Tia. We aren’t sharing a Mr. Miyagi moment. I need you to be able to handle yourself. Yes, you can’t always fight your way out of every bad situation, and violence should be a last resort. But it is a resort, and if you can’t manage it, you’re just going to get in my way. Hit me or go home.”

  Tia launched a series of strikes that Connie dodged and deflected. She danced around Tia’s wild swings. Tia’s frustration led to rage, which led to sloppiness, and avoiding her attacks only became easier. It didn’t help that Connie kept tapping Tia here and there to illustrate the weakness of her defense.

  Tia wheezed and knelt with her hands on her knees.

  “I trust I’ve made my point?” asked Connie with a condescending smile.

  Screaming, Tia hurled herself forward. Connie stepped aside and, with a deft maneuver, flipped Tia onto the floor again.

  She lay there, looking up at the ceiling. “This is bullshit. Just give me a minute to catch my breath.”

  Connie shrugged. “If you think it’ll make a difference.”

  Tia stood. “Here’s the deal. If I land a hit on you—even one—you stop telling me not to come along.”

  Connie nodded. “And if you can’t, then you forget this. Deal?”

  Tia nodded.

  “To make it fair, I won’t even use my arms,” said Connie.

  Tia snarled. “No. You’re going to use your arms. I don’t need you to hold back.”

  “Actually—”

  Tia rushed forward. Connie punched Tia and threw her to the floor.

  “Son of a bitch.” Tia groaned. “I think you dislocated my shoulder.”

  “You’d know if I dislocated your shoulder. You’re fine. You said I shouldn’t hold back.”

  “Okay, so hold back a little.” Tia sat up.

  “No need. You can come along.”

  “But I didn’t hit you.”

  “And you never will. Keep that in mind. I’m good, but there are people out there who make me look like an amateur. If you can’t take me on, you can’t take them on.”

  “Point made,” said Tia.

  Connie helped Tia up. “I need you to listen to me and not do anything stupid. Other than the stupid thing of going with me.”

  “I can do that.”

  “It’s still a bad idea, but maybe you are sidekick material after all.” Connie helped Tia up. “And I still owe you for your ruined wedding reception.”

  “Ruined? Those mob goons were the only thing worth remembering about the whole day. I can’t believe you punched me.” Tia wiped her bloody nose. “I knew it was a test.”

  “Had to see if you could take it.”

  “How’d I do?”

  “Terrible, but you’re an adult. I don’t feel like wasting time talking you out of this. Just don’t complain to me if you get eaten by something.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it. How do we find this fairy godmother of yours? Do we need to journey to some ancient woods forgotten by man and dance three times around a circle of mushrooms under the light of the full moon?”

  “Nothing that complicated,” said Connie. “Help me move these boxes.”

  They cleared some space around an antique wardrobe wrapped in heavy chains with a lock the size of a pie plate engraved with a knight’s helm.

  “Fancy,” said Tia. “Is this the way, then? Through a magic wardrobe? Bit of a cliché, isn’t it?”

  “Welcome to my life,” replied Connie as she tapped the key twice on the lock. “Third time’s the charm.”

  “Wait.”

  “Have you changed your mind?”

  “No, but is transitioning into magical dimensions anything like flying? Because if it is, I’m probably going to need some Dramamine. Have some in one of my bags.”

  “You’ll be fine.” Connie tapped the lock one last time It fell away with a heavy thud, and the wardrobe’s doors were flung open. A terrifying beast—half-man, half-dragon, half-tree—stepped into the room. It was too many halves, but the fae were a race who enjoyed flouting convention.

  The monster roared and stacks of boxes fell. Tia lost sight of Connie, buried under an avalanche of cardboard.

  The dragon elm beast turned its gaze on Tia and snorted.

  It was probably too late to change her mind.

  The dragon m
an spread his wings, toppling over more boxes.

  “Constance Verity!” he bellowed. “You were warned not to trespass upon the Fae Realms upon penalty of death by torture!”

  He inhaled. Flames flickered at the corners of his mouth.

  Tia held up her hands. “Hold on! I’m not her!”

  The guardian swallowed his fire, choking and sputtering, exhaling clouds of smoke. He rubbed his watering eyes.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. My mistake.” He snorted and blew a stream of smoke out of his nostrils. “You wouldn’t happen to know where she is? This is her wardrobe. I assume she’s around here somewhere.”

  Tia eyed the piles of boxes on the floor for the slightest sign of movement. “I don’t know.”

  “You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you? I’d be terribly upset if you were.”

  Tia smiled with all the sincerity she could muster, looking into the guardian’s dark green eyes. She hoped she wasn’t overselling it.

  “No.”

  The dragon man scratched his great curving horns made of wood, and she wondered if it was difficult breathing fire when half your flesh was made of bark.

  “That’s annoying. Here I have been stationed in this wardrobe for the better part of a decade with the express purpose of slaying Constance Verity when she dared try use it, and she’s not even here.”

  “You’ve been sitting in there for ten years?”

  “That’s not the worst of it. I actually had to battle the greatest gladiators of the realm for the right. I slew my own brothers for this opportunity.”

  “You must really hate Connie.”

  “Oh, I’ve got nothing against her, myself. But it’d bring great honor upon my house to be the one who killed her.”

  With a heavy sigh, he sat on the pile of boxes Connie had been buried under. “I don’t understand it. The oracles specifically said she’d be using this portal to the realms. Though they didn’t say when. Never do give you any useful information, do they?”

  “I hear ya,” said Tia. “Oracles. Am I right?”

  The guardian groaned and climbed back into the wardrobe. “Maybe next time. If you should see Verity, please, do urge her to hurry along. I may be ageless, but I have things I’d rather be doing.”

  He shut the doors and the handle closed with a click.

  Tia waited a few moments before digging through the crushed boxes, looking for Connie. She wasn’t there, and a quick search of the rest of the apartment confirmed she was missing.

  The wardrobe rocked back and forth as something clattered and bumped in its interior. Tia watched, uncertain of what she should do. She debated on opening the door, but if the guardian was in there, fighting something so fierce and terrible, then it was probably better if they stayed put. Or maybe their battle would shake the wardrobe to pieces, taking their portal to the fairy world with it, and the better thing to do would be to let them out. Since Connie wasn’t here, Tia had to do something. Unless doing something was the wrong thing to do.

  This sidekicking business was more complicated than she had initially expected. When she’d been previously dragged into Connie’s adventures, it was more of a hostage situation, and that mostly involved sitting around, waiting to be rescued.

  There came a dreadful roar, and tongues of flame flashed around the edges of the wardrobe. Its doors swung open as the guardian was hurled into the apartment to come crashing onto the floor. More boxes were crushed. Others fell over. At this point, it wasn’t worth noticing.

  Connie stepped out from the wardrobe. She blew out the bit of fire smoldering on her sleeve.

  “How the hell did you get in there?” asked Tia.

  “Ninja training,” replied Connie.

  “Bullshit. I could see the wardrobe the whole time. You couldn’t have sneaked into it without me noticing.”

  “People aren’t nearly as observant as they think,” replied Connie. “And monsters tend to be terrific distractions. I probably couldn’t have pulled it off if you hadn’t been distracting the guardian.”

  “See? I told you I could be useful.”

  “I stand proven wrong,” said Connie.

  Tia eyed the guardian lying still before her. “Is he dead?”

  “Just stunned.” Connie pounded the knuckledusters in each hand together with a loud clink. “Cold iron. Never visit the Fae Realms without them.”

  “I thought you said you preferred winging it.”

  Connie slipped the knuckledusters in her pocket. “Some things are just common sense. He should be unconscious for a few hours.”

  “Poor guy,” said Tia.

  “He was planning on killing me.”

  “Well, sure, but I can’t help but have a little sympathy for him. He’d spent nearly a decade waiting for his shot, and he blew it. You think the oracles could’ve warned him.”

  “Oracles don’t do jack. And don’t even get me started on prophecies. I’m so sick of those damned things.”

  Connie adopted a spooky voice. “By the river Anauros, you shall meet a man wearing one sandal who shall be your undoing.” She chuckled. “Thanks for the newsflash. Couldn’t just give me a name and address. Hey, kill this guy. Easy peasy.”

  “I think that would take the mystery out of it.”

  “The future is already mysterious. If oracles really wanted mystery, they’d shut up about it.”

  They entered the wardrobe and shut the door. A musical chime sounded as a soft, cool breeze blew through the darkness. Connie tapped the True Key against the doors three times, and they opened. Her cluttered apartment had been replaced by a shadowy warehouse with row upon row of antique furniture, each of them a portal to the mortal world. Chains were wrapped around the more dangerous furniture, and the wardrobe they stepped out of had been thoroughly locked down, judging by the copious amount of chains lying around it.

  A chest of drawers growled and rattled at Connie as they walked by. Something inhuman leered at them from the depths of a giant mirror.

  A great white stag with antlers nearly as tall as his body stepped before them. He glowed with a soft light, and his deep blue eyes sparkled like the sun reflecting off the ocean. He wore a gray hat labeled SECURITY.

  “Hey, you shouldn’t be in here,” he said.

  “Just passing through,” said Connie.

  The security stag tilted his head to one side. “Say, aren’t you Constance Verity?”

  She slipped her hands in her pockets and her fingers around her knuckledusters. “I am.”

  “In that case, the exit is over that way.” He nodded down an aisle.

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  He bowed, tapped the floor with his hoof, and disappeared in a flash of bright azure flame.

  “Doesn’t matter what world you’re in.” Connie studied the circle of golden ash left behind by the stag’s teleportation. “You can’t expect much for minimum wage.”

  8

  The Fae Realms, despite the grandness of the title, was a landmass not much larger than the island of Hawaii. This simplified things considerably, because there was only one major city among the fae, and all portals to the realms led to it.

  The streets of Arcadia had a quasi-mystic style. The streets were cobblestone. The lamps were flickering flames. The buildings had an old-world, European style to them with leering gargoyles, ornate parapets, elaborate spires, and other bits of architecture Connie didn’t have words for.

  The night sky was a sea of stars, twinkling in a rainbow spectrum of colors. The bright, blue moon sat behind those stars.

  Strange creatures walked the streets at night. Goblins in leather jackets. Pixies riding shaggy, six-legged poodles. A gorgeous androgynous something with flawless blue skin and a shock of spiky blond hair made eye contact with Tia, and she fell in love with him/her/it instantly.

  “Looking for a good time?” he/she/it asked.

  “Maybe next time,” said Connie as she dragged Tia away.

  It was only after
they turned the corner and the beautiful fae disappeared from sight that Tia could shake the enchantment.

  “This is not what I expected,” said Tia.

  “What did you expect?”

  “I don’t know. I thought it’d be more . . . whimsical. Enchanted glens. Giant caterpillars on toadstools. Tea parties. Croquet.”

  “You’re describing Alice in Wonderland. That’s a story. Not a real place.”

  “It isn’t? But I thought you’d been there.”

  “No, I’ve been in a deadly amusement park designed after Wonderland. Believe me. It’s not that whimsical when you’re being chased by a giant mechanical dodo bird. Teacup ride was fun though.”

  They walked a little farther, and Tia was surprised that the fae didn’t give a second glance at the mortal women among them, until she noticed they weren’t the only ones. There were a handful of human people on the street. The Fae Realms had a sizeable population of humans, the leftovers from mortals who had fallen or been stolen into the realms in ages past and discovered that mortals were as ageless as the natives while here.

  The mortals still bred like creatures with an expiration date, and for a while, it appeared certain the realms’ natives would fall to this invasive species, until powerful contraceptive spells were cast, and the fae, in good conscience, couldn’t send the hapless mortals back to a place where magic was scarce and unstable and physics, that most inexplicable of forces, held sway. For anyone who had grown up where gravity was a suggestion, not a constant, the mortal world was downright terrifying.

  “Where are we going?” asked Tia.

  “In order to find my fairy godmother, we’ll need to access the godmother registry. It’s an enchanted scroll with all the names of all the godmothers that ever were. Each godmother must have a distinct name. They’re strict about that. They’re also strict about access. Fortunately, I know a guy who can get any information you want for the right price.”

  “Is he trustworthy?”

  Connie laughed. “Of course not, but he owes me a favor. And he’s not too far from here.”

  They hailed a carriage pulled along by a team of giant mice, and Connie gave the driver instructions on where to go.

  Tia took in a world that wasn’t much different from her own. She’d been to a few exotic locales and alternate realities. She’d visited Atlantis, kidnapped by merfolk for reasons she couldn’t recall at the moment, but she’d spent most of that time tied up with a bag over her head. It limited sightseeing options. She’d spent hours on various spaceships, but most of them were either nothing but a lot of blinking control panels or featureless walls. About the most interesting place she’d been to that she had time to see was the hidden city beneath Chicago where vampire Al Capone reigned.