by James Fahy
“Pinky!” came a happy squeal. Woad, who had been sitting back to back with the girl, both leaning against one another, rolled into sight and scampered up to the bars. His face was a beaming grin from ear to ear. “And Henryboy! Look, boss! Henryboy is here too! He didn’t fall down a hole in the forest or get eaten by a bear at all. You were wrong about that!”
“I only said it would be just like him too,” Karya sniffed, getting to her feet. “Not that he had.”
“You’re both alright?” Robin grinned at them, gripping the bars. He was so relieved to see them. “They didn’t hurt you?”
“Other than that two-faced dryad traitor strapping us to the ground with vines and delivering us like two tightly wrapped gifts to Miss Peryl, Queen of the Hive, no. We’re otherwise fine,” Karya smiled. She was doing her serious and businesslike frown, but was not entirely successful in her attempts to hide how clearly happy she was to see them both.
“We thought between the dragon and Strigoi, you might have been a bit delayed, but we never doubted you’d come for us.” She looked past Robin to Henry, who was grinning sheepishly at her. “Good to see you in one piece too,” she nodded. Her golden eyes took in the dark haired boy's appearance. “You look like the forest ate you up and spat you out as much as it did Robin, but at least you’re alive.”
“Don’t go getting too mushy,” Henry said. “You’ll only make me blush.”
“How are you here?” Woad asked. “How are you both here?”
“Henry rescued me,” Robin said. “I was left at Rowandeepling, I don’t know why Peryl didn’t just bring me along with the rest of you.”
“It wasn’t just me doing the rescuing,” Henry said honestly. “I had some help.”
“What help?” Karya looked from one boy to the other. Her eyes were suspicious.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Robin said. “Trust me on that. Time for that later.”
“I could not agree more,” came a voice from the furthest corner of the cell. What Robin had taken to be a pile of rags unfurled itself. It was Hawthorn, who had clearly been sleeping. The old Fae nodded in greeting to Robin, dipping his horns. He looked oddly proud.
“Never leave a fellow Fae behind, eh?” he said. “Unless he wants you to.”
“Hawthorn! You’re here too.” Relief rushed through Robin. “I’m glad you’re alive. Back on the hill, we didn’t mean to leave you, we-"
Hawthorn raised a hand, silencing him. “Yes yes, no need to explain. Your friend the girl here has told me everything. You were right to be whisked away from under my feet. I am indeed grateful that you were. Otherwise, you would have been left with the impressive sight of me taking out seven or eight centaur, before finally being subdued. It was a sight to behold my young friend, you would have been quite intimidated.”
Woad gave the old Fae a glance. “It was two or three centaurs the first time you told us that story. They’re multiplying every time you tell it.”
Robin began to introduce Henry to Hawthorn, realising this was the first time the two had met. Hawthorn eyed the boy curiously with his long eyes, admitting he had never met a human child before, and what curious creatures they seemed.
Karya interrupted them all.
“This is all well and good,” she said. “But can we all catch up and shake hands later on please? Preferably far away from here?” She looked to Robin through the bars.
“Peryl is here, Scion. She’s the overseer in this misery factory. And she has both the Earth Shard and the Princess Ashe in her custody. I believe she means to make a gift of both to Eris, and very soon.” She pointed behind his shoulder, out across the void, where the large suspended platform stood with its windowless building.
“She’s in there, lady of the manor. And more importantly, so is all of our stuff. Mana stones, weapons.” She shook her head, irritated. “There’s nothing any of us can do about getting out of here if we don’t have magic.”
Robin nodded. “Understood,” he said. “I’ll get it back.” He wasn’t sure how yet, he was pretty much making it up as he went along, but his voice sounded assured and confident, even to his own ears, and this seemed good enough for his imprisoned friends.
“Henry, I need you to stay here, with the others,” he said. Henry looked shocked.
“Are you mad?” he asked. “No way, you need my help.”
“Exactly!” Robin said. He asked Karya if she still had her hex-message parchment, and after some fumbling in the pockets of her coat, she produced it. Robin gave it to Henry. “You have a clear view of the entire Hive from out here on the ledge,” he told him. “I need you to be my lookout. Tell me if anyone moves who shouldn’t. If anyone comes up here, or if you see anyone headed towards that place where I’m headed.” He tapped his own pocket. “I have mine here. Message me if you do. I’m visible now, so I’m going to have to go flat across the bridges to that platform, I’ll have no line of sight at all.”
Henry took the paper and nodded. “I still don’t like the idea of you going in there alone,” he said.
Robin glanced at them all. “It’s only one Grimm,” he said, as lightly as possible. “How hard can it be?”
SCRYGLASS
Leaving his friends and setting off alone, Robin scrambled from the gallery and set off cautiously across the highest bridge, crouched so low as he crept along the narrow yellow ledge that he was almost on his hands and knees. He felt terribly alone and horribly exposed. The scrap of enchanted parchment was clutched in his fist. He could hear the purr of insect wings below him, as countless members of the swarm flitted to and fro beneath his precipitously slender walkway.
Part of him wished he still thought of the Puck as a separate entity. The one good thing about having another person living inside you, Robin thought, was that you never truly felt completely alone. But after the business with the dragon, after willing the force of the Arcania to life down in the hollow in order to fight the beast, accepting and owning his own mana willingly, he no longer felt that was the case. He was the Puck, and the Puck was him. Whether that made him feel bolder or more vulnerable, he had yet to decide.
He made it all the way across across the walkway without being spotted. The parchment in his hand had not vibrated, no urgent warning had come from Henry, his lookout. The odd suspended building stood before him, a squat yellowish dome, strung here in the cat's-cradle of spokes above the yawning abyss. There a single opening leading inside, through which Robin slipped, as stealthy as possible.
Inside, the chamber was the first furnished space he had seen within the Hive. The floor, as elsewhere, was an interlacing pattern of hexagonal tiles, and the walls the same softly glowing amber, glassy and smooth, reaching up to a domed and organic-looking ceiling, but some attempts had been made to make the place more fitting for non-insect life.
Expensive-looking and heavily patterned rugs were strewn across the floor. There were long tables here and there, many piled with tottering old books. There were maps of the Netherworlde rolled out flat on workspaces, full of pins and flags, rolled scrolls by their sides. Several large and ornate bookcases stood against the walls, all packed to the brim, and there were even stuffed wingback chairs, ornate and claw-footed. Robin half expected to see a roaring open fireplace and a drinks table shaped like an antique globe. It seemed as though someone had raided the contents of an old gentleman’s study and vomited them into the hive.
The humanity of it looked all the more surreal against the alien walls.
Standing at the far end of the room, back turned as she leaned over a table, studying something there, was a Miss Peryl, slender and spiky, dressed in a crisp tailored suit which was as black as midnight. Long purple hair fell down in waves across the dark fabric.
Silently, Robin glanced around the room. On a table to the left, there was a pile of junk, dropped haphazardly amidst old leatherbound books. A few closed candle-lamps, something resembling a large circular bronze shield, and also, rather incongruousl
y, a dish filled to the brim with a selection of chocolate M&M’s. To his relief, he also saw a pile of mana stones, gathered reverently in a rough circle on the tabletop. Karya’s bracelet, Woad's stone, Hawthorn’s bow and his own seraphinite teardrop, slung in its leather thong. He hadn’t realised how much he had missed it until he saw it, sitting there innocently on the table like nothing more than cast off jewellery atop a dresser. He had never been more happy to see a lump of rock before in his life.
“If you’re thinking of tiptoeing around like some cartoon character, I shouldn’t bother,” Miss Peryl said lightly, without looking up or turning around. “I already know you’re there, I practically heard your heroic theme music as you came in.”
Robin froze. Behind him, the oval door slammed shut, sealing him in the large and windowless room.
The Grimm turned lazily, tucking a lock of purple hair behind her ear. Unlike when he had seen her in his dreams recently, where she had appeared almost human, here, in her dark midnight suit, with skin as white as glowing chalk, she looked quite otherworldly. Every inch a Grimm. She smiled at Robin, dark lips on a powdered face, and leaned back against the table in a relaxed and familiar manner, as though they were old friends.
Miss Peryl’s eyes were as black as tar from edge to edge.
“Scion of the Arcania,” she said, with relish. “Do you know, I had a dream you were coming? Honestly, I’m not even kidding. I haven’t dreamed in years, how weird is that, right?”
Robin's eyes flicked to his mana stone on the table and back to her. This did not go unnoticed.
“Oh geez! Where are my manners?” she said, flapping a hand at the table near the boy. “Go right ahead and get your stone, yes of course. I won’t stop you. It wasn’t my idea to take them off you all anyway. It was his. He’s so particular about disarming enemies, everything's always by the book with old dogface.” She sighed. “But where’s the fun in that? That’s what I say. I like a good scuffle, keeps the blood moving. And besides …” She reached behind her and produced something, the object she had been studying when he had entered.
“I have a bigger rock!” she said in a playful sing-song voice.
In her hand, she held a canister. It looked like an old closed gas lantern case, hexagonal brass with glass panels all around. Suspended within this protective case, glowing and turning softly over and over, was the Earth Shard of the Arcania. Its flickering green light reflected up onto her smirking face.
“Isn’t it just peachy?” she said proudly. “Green is such a difficult colour to carry off, don’t you think?” She gazed in at the stone through the glass. “And so pretty too.”
“Sure it is,” Robin replied, moving slowly towards the table with the mana stones, keeping both eyes firmly on the smiling Grimm. “It really brings out the murderous psychopath in your eyes.”
“Now that’s just flirting,” Peryl replied. “Shame on you.” She was still glancing down at the Shard. “Don’t you listen to the mean old Fae, Shardy,” she said in cooing baby voice. “You’re beautiful. He’s just jealous because we got you before he did.”
Robin scooped up his mana stone, quickly slipping it around his neck. Peryl made no move to stop him, though her eyes did flick up at him, narrowing approvingly.
“There … that’s better,” she said. “See, now we're all properly dressed for dinner.” She placed the Shard-lantern back on the table next to her, as though suddenly bored with it. “And you don’t seem very pleased to see me,” she scolded. “A little gratitude wouldn’t go amiss, you know. You owe me big time.”
“I … owe … you?” Robin replied, spluttering in disbelief. “You kidnapped my friends. You’ve enslaved an entire colony of people. You’ve … you’ve … shamelessly manipulated a dangerously unstable dryad into giving you the Shard, and then killed him. You’re a walking trail of destruction And you think I … owe you?”
Peryl rolled her dark eyes. “Oh blah blah, all that’s just business,” she said dismissively. “You can’t really blame me for Splinterstem, be fair. He was pretty unhinged to begin with. All I did was give him a little nudge. One that he wanted already. I’m a Grimm, remember? I was doing my job. Which I happen to be very very good at, by the way.”
“Yeah, I heard from someone that you got a promotion,” Robin said dryly, trying to buy for time while he figured out a way to get past the girl to the Shard on the table behind her.
“Queen of the Grimms!” she grinned, as though she had been pronounced high school valedictorian. “And it’s a role with benefits, let me tell you. I like the view from the top, blondie. It’s fun up here.” Her grin widened, her dark eyes flashing. “Lady Eris has given me a whole bunch of evil wasp-fairies to play with, all of my very own! I have minions, actual honest to heck minions! How neat is that? Plus, I get to boss around all my horrible brothers and sisters too. After so long at the bottom of the food chain, let me tell you something, that … is just not getting old.” She laughed.
“Why do I owe you?” Robin asked again. He was cautiously, slowly, moving forward into the room. Peryl was like an asp. She seemed calm and relaxed, but he had no doubt she could strike at any moment, without warning. He was trying to think of a way to catch her off guard, what cantrip might be best, now that she had bizarrely allowed him to arm himself. What would be the best way to knock her off balance, giving him a chance to get to the Shard?
“Because I left you hanging in a cage, dumbnuts,” she replied. “Everyone else was brought here, when I sacked Rowandeepling. Now, that was satisfying. Those tree folk are annoying. I’ve been lurking around this forest like a bog hag for months controlling that idiot Splinterstem. Not fun. I think I have allergies.”
She waved a hand airily.
“I brought your little ragtag entourage here. They’re going to be a present for the Empress, a little amuse-bouche before the main course of the Shard itself. But you? I thought I’d give you a break for once. At least give you fighting chance.” She shrugged aimlessly. “I figured it was fifty fifty. You’d either escape the cage eventually and go running back to Grandma Silverbun at Crinkle Manor with your tail between your legs, or you’d come over all heroic and square-jawed and try to get to me, to stop my schemes most dastardly.” She regarded him thoughtfully, her glittering eyes lost in a sea of dark kohl. “I suppose I wanted to see which.”
“Why?”
“I guess I just wanted to see what kind of person you were, when it comes to it. Take away a person’s magic, leave them in a cage with nothing but broken bones. That’s when you see what they’re really made of.”
“And what are you made of Peryl?” he challenged. “You say you dreamt I was coming here. I’ve been dreaming about you too.”
Peryl looked thoughtful at this. “Really? Oh wow. That’s kind of neat. A bit…icky, but still, neat.” Her brows knitted. “I hope we weren’t riding a romantic ferris-wheel or running along a beach or anything like that. So, I’m in your little fluffy head, am I?”
“Uninvited, but yes,” Robin admitted. “But you’re not like this.” He indicated her with a gesture.
“Not stylish?” she asked, glancing down with concern at her crisp, tailored suit. A look of mock horror came over her face. “Oh gods. I’m not … I’m not blonde, am I?” She gave him a genuinely worried look. “In your dreams I mean, because you can pull of the whole choirboy angel look, but on me? With this skin tone? Just … wan.”
“When I’ve dreamt about you … you’re a person,” he said flatly. “Not a …”
“Grimm?” she finished for him, her dark eyes very direct. “Wishful thinking on the part of your Arcania-addled adolescent mind, I’m afraid, Scion. Slice me down the middle and you won’t find happy fluffy feelings. All you will find is power and-stop moving! Do you think I’m utterly stupid? I can see you trying to inch towards me!”
She shouted this last sentence so loudly, Robin was startled.
“You’re all talk. There’s more than just cold Grimm in you,�
�� Robin said. “I know there is, because I put it there. I didn’t mean to, but I did anyway. Back in the tomb under the lake. You know full well what happened between us. Don’t even try to deny it.”
Peryl stared at him, still looking her unique combination of faintly amused and bored. She flicked her hair.
“You make it sound so lovely,” she said. “I think I remember it quite differently, as we tore the Arcania Shard apart between us. The way I recall, you gave me nothing but pain. I don’t know that I’ll ever find it in my black little heart to forgive you.”
“You’re lying,” Robin said. “There's some of you in me, Peryl, in my head. I know there is. I’ve been angry, I’ve had darkness rising in my mana, colouring my magic with shadow like … like some kind of bad flu I can’t shake off. You didn’t mean to, but you put some Grimm in my soul, or my mana, or whatever, and I know the same thing happened to you.”
“Nonsense,” she countered, dismissively. “I don’t share my grimness. What a stupid notion.”
“Some of my humanity went into you,” Robin pressed, ignoring her protestations. “Even just a peppercorn's worth. You can deny it all you want, but that’s why you saved Jackalope, that’s why you delivered him to Erlking. Because you felt guilt, you felt … something.”
“So what if I did, for a second?” she shrugged, folding her arms. “A fleeting sneeze, that’s all it was. I’m all better now. Nothing says ‘look-how-grimm-I-am’ like backstabbing a dryad in a dark labyrinth.”
Robin knew she was lying. This ghoulish, dangerous creature, as black-hearted as Strife perhaps, and with a very skewed sense of what was acceptable fun. But whatever she was, she was lying. Either to him or herself.
“I was told that the seed of darkness in me would only grow, if I resisted it,” he said. “If I didn’t accept everything I was fighting, everything I was angry about. The Puck, being the Scion, never being normal like other people. It would grow and consume me. And it almost did.” He held his hands up. “I’ve accepted who I am. Dark parts and all. You? You haven’t. If you keep denying what the Arcania did to you … It will consume you.” He shook his head, pleased to see that she seemed to bristle a little. He had her on the back foot. “You’re going to lose your grimness, bit by bit, Peryl. There’s nothing you can do to stop it. And when it comes crashing down, all you’re going to be left with is the guilt of all the things you are doing now. Every crime you are committing, every dryad you’re dooming here. There’ll be no getting away from what you’ve done.”
