by Caleb James
Marilyn nodded. She pictured Cedric. She will come for him. The enormity of what she intended hit hard. I am the mother of kings. I may never see my children again. She crouched down by Adam and smoothed back his hair.
“Mommy?”
“Shh.” Please words. Please come. “The worlds are collapsing. Safer here. Understand?”
He nodded.
“You are the first, and you are my last. Though I was seventh of seven.”
“Born with a caul,” Sabina added.
“They say so.”
Like a schoolchild, Peony sang: “Through the seventh daughter of the seventh daughter, the haffling child comes. They dance and play around the Mist. They travel where they may. ‘Play with me. Play with me,’ they sing into the night. But play with them, play with them, and you break as they take flight.”
Sabina nodded. “This is where your children are… now. I’ll go up with you, but I cannot stay. Your son Alex does not want our type near his sister… your Alice.” She looked away. “I do not blame him. I was not always a dusthead.”
“There’s places for that,” Marilyn said, almost lucid. “Places for help.”
“Not here, and not for us,” she replied. “And I cannot go back. It’s certain death, breakage aside.”
“True, but worlds collapse, and I am the mother of kings and of the girl who went down the hole.”
“Thank you,” Sabina said, able to discern what lay beneath Marilyn’s words. “You too give hope.”
“It’s springy,” Marilyn replied as they entered the building.
The doorman looked up. He smiled. “Marilyn, I’m losing it. I could swear you just went up.” He peered at Adam and then at Sabina.
“Not up at all—through, under, around.”
Sabina tugged her hand before the man’s polite questions could start. “Come, Marilyn.” And they got away from the doorman before his bemused smile and curiosity changed to other things.
Marilyn watched as Sabina pressed the number twelve. The button lit, and they headed up. “Why are you nervous?” she asked, pleased at how her words sounded. But then babbled, “Nervous, pervous, no need for service. We deserve this.”
Adam wiggled his fingers from her firm grip. “It’s moving. This is a magic box. It’s moving us.”
Sabina smiled. “It’s an elevator, Adam.” Then to Marilyn, “I would go back if I could. In all senses. But I am well and truly dusted, and I do not have the constitution for living life more broken than I am.”
“Trust me, bust me, but do not dust me. I certainly, pertinently understand.” She wanted to bang her head against the mirrored walls. “Broken, token, I was bespoken.” A scream welled in the back of her throat as they came to a stop and the doors opened.
“Not your fault,” Sabina whispered as they came out into a hall with faded cabbage-rose carpet and doors in either direction. “Come. Here. It’s number 1211.” She knocked on the door and waited for footsteps. “Good, someone’s home.” She backed away.
“Don’t. Please stay,” Marilyn said as the handle turned.
Sabina shook her head but did not move.
The door cracked open, and an old woman looked out. On the floor a furry paw batted manically into the space.
The woman gasped. “Marilyn?”
Marilyn looked from Sabina to the woman she’d never met.
“I am the mother of kings and of the girl who went down the hole.”
“Of course you are. I’m Flora Fitzgerald. And that must be Adam. Come in.” Flora saw Sabina and Peony lurking in the hall. She shook her head.
“They helped me,” Marilyn said. “Help they need.”
“I am aware.” To Sabina, “You should leave before they see you.” She paused and made a cooing sound as she caught sight of Peony. “A pixie. And such a beauty. Come back in the morning, if help you truly want. I believe there is a way. I’ve had some success.”
Sabina, with Peony peeking out from behind her right ear, backed away. “Thank you.”
Flora sighed, and with a practiced move, bent on arthritic knees and swept up two tabbies by the scruff of their necks. “Come in quick, and close the door behind you or we’ll be chasing the terrible twos all over the building.”
“Two’s company,” Marilyn said as she let loose Adam, who was fascinated with the cats.
She shouted back, “Goodbye, Sabina. Goodbye, Peony. I will not forget.”
“You are welcome, mother of kings.” And without another word, they left through the elevator.
“What is five?” Flora asked as she pulled Marilyn into her book-crammed hallway and shut the door.
“A party.”
“Then welcome to the party house. Come. I’ll make tea and fetch those you came to see.”
Marilyn panicked. “Wait! What? Here, they brought me here.”
“Right place,” Flora said, having no difficulty following Marilyn’s train of thought. “Wrong apartment. Sit. I’ll tell you a story while we wait for them.”
“You are the wise old woman. Can you help Sabina and Peony?”
“Two out of three. And possibly.”
“I pick wise and woman,” Marilyn replied. “And they are broken and broken again with dust.” Sick of crying, she could not stop. “She used to fly, that one. And now….”
Flora gazed at Adam, who was on the floor playing with the tabbies, Aldo and Andre. Three older cats, including a demonic Siamese, watched from the darkened living room. “And you are the mother of kings and of the girl who went down the hole. I’ll make us tea.”
Twenty-Six
FLUSHED WITH passion’s afterglow, Redmond drank in the man… beast… hound in his bed. “You are beautiful.”
Finn smiled and placed Redmond’s hand to his furry chest. “Back at you.” He pulled him into a kiss.
Sparks exploded. I have never felt this. Something screamed, though it was neither fey nor any known animal. He pulled back. No. Recognition dawned. Someone has escaped.
Finn immediately put a name to it. “Like sirens. Didn’t know you had them here.” He turned to the source of the noise. His heightened senses tried to tease apart the wails.
A harsh rap came at the chamber door.
“Not good.” Redmond rose from the tousled bed, picked a robe from off a chair, and belted it on.
As the siren peaked and dipped, they heard other sounds. Cries of the patients from their locked cells.
Naked, Finn followed at Redmond’s side.
The size of him and the heat that emanated from his body were a comfort to Redmond. “Whatever is on the other side of that door….”
“Yeah, got it. Not good news.”
The rapping grew louder. A gruff voice boomed out, “Dr. Fall. Dr. Fall.”
Redmond drew a sigil in the air with his forefinger and thumb, and the lock twisted and turned. “Enter.”
An ogre in blue, his chest and shoulders bedazzled with epaulets and badges, appeared.
He was winded and seemed unfazed by the naked man.
“Gark, tell me,” Redmond said, though in his gut, he already knew.
“Dr. Fall, the queen has escaped, and she’s eaten two of my guards. We’re understaffed as it is. I’ll need replacements. Third shift is always the hardest.”
Gark’s words washed over him. A problem with ogres was that they weighed all issues the same. May’s escape was catastrophic. “Tell me what happened.”
Gark did, or as much as he knew. He pointed outside the window to the direction of the siren and the howl of the inmates. “That woke me. I investigated. I found blood. I’ll need replacements.”
“The queen,” Redmond interjected. “Tell me of her. Tell me where she went.”
“Gone,” Gark stated. “Had she still been there, I imagine you’d be down a third. Two is bad enough. As we discussed, ogres do not grow on trees. She sure can eat.” The last was said with admiration. “She could be anywhere.”
Finn sniffed the air around Gark. “S
he clings to you. There could be clues in her cell.”
Redmond nodded and vanished into his closet. He returned with a soft robe. “You are lovely to look upon, but I do not want to share.”
Finn shrugged and covered himself. He breathed in. “And there’s the rub a dub dub. You know what she wants.”
“Yes, so while she’s escaped, she will return.” His eyes met Finn’s. “There is much I still do not understand. You were hers.”
“True, or true enough, though what I heard during your last session makes me question how true my former self had been.”
“You heard that. I can’t imagine how. That door is impenetrable to the senses.”
“Not mine. I have a new set, and they shift as I do. At my most houndish, my nose and ears are outrageous. So not words, not exactly, but impressions, emotions… I’m still figuring it out. Before she tried to eat you, she talked of things that had gutted her, and over her pain, I caught images of a former hound.” His focus shifted from the queen’s scent to Redmond. “We know that she is shattered. By her own hand and by….” He grabbed Redmond’s hand and placed it over his chest. “And by this. She would rip my heart from my chest. She believes it belongs to her. She is wrong. Or at least in part.”
Redmond held his breath as his fingers played in Finn’s soft chest hair and felt the pulse of his heart. “Yes, she is wrong, and that will not stop her. She will return.”
“But here’s the deal, Redmond. Maybe a thousand years ago, whoever was the Hound gave her his heart, and then again, maybe he tricked her. I think that’s what happened. You know all’s fair…. But he’s not me. Whatever she thinks I’ve got, it’s not for her… it’s for you.”
Redmond’s heart skipped. It’s too fast. This can’t be love. His mouth was dry, and more than any drug, he needed to look upon Finn’s face. He gazed up. This is love. How is that possible? “She needs the stone. Because maybe you didn’t give her your heart… you most certainly took hers. That’s what the stone is. How I did not see that….”
“She can try.”
“She will kill us all.” And there lies the twisty snarky fey way. Yes, I get love… for three heartbeats, and then we die.
“And eat us,” Gark added.
But three heartbeats of love are better than none.
“She can try,” Finn repeated. He grabbed Redmond around the waist and kissed him.
Gark snarled. “It’s all hearts and flowers, but I still have shifts to fill and disgruntled employees who are talking unions.”
Redmond pulled back. Three heartbeats are good, and I have responsibilities. “Do what needs doing,” he told Gark. “I’ll approve bonuses for all based on loyalty and hazardous duty.”
“Thank you, Doctor. You just can’t imagine the stress of having to staff the wards 24-7. Someone’s always calling out sick or eating someone sick… or getting eaten.” And without stopping in his litany of woes, Gark left.
Twenty-Seven
MARILYN’S TEARS would not stop, though her thoughts clanged without reason. She gazed around Flora’s tidy kitchen. All three at once. Alex, Alice, Adam. It was an all-you-can-eat buffet of joy and anguish.
Unable to stay seated, she went first to Alex, her dark-haired champion. “So old, a man.”
“Not that old,” he said.
Marilyn observed how he gazed on Jerod with love and then on blonde-haired Alice with something more… concern.
“What is wrong?” she asked. She turned. He’s too quiet. Bad memories haunted her. I was not a good mother to them. “I made you lie and cheat.”
“We did what we had to,” he replied.
Something’s wrong with Alice… and he doesn’t want me to see it. Tricky Alex, some things never change. “You will not lock me up.”
“I hadn’t intended to, and now there’s no need for that.”
“They have me.” Marilyn’s changeling double, dressed in a spring floral with her hair tied up and back, smiled at Marilyn.
Marilyn felt a dull ache in her side, where years earlier Queen May tore flesh to make the changeling. The pain was different now…. She sits in my place. She rears my children…. She looked over the pass-through into the darkened living room where Adam played with the tabbies. She grabbed the sides of her face.
Changeling Marilyn spoke. “You are doing the right thing, Marilyn. If you had a choice, of course you’d keep your children with you. Though Alex is truly grown and wants to spend little time with me.” She smiled. “I embarrass him.”
“Tell me,” Marilyn said as she turned in place, making note of what was right and what was not. “Your fairy. Where is your fairy? Where is Nimby?”
Alex nodded. “Gone. We have much to tell you.”
“She cannot go. That was part of the deal.”
Alex looked from her to Jerod. “What are you talking about? What deal?”
“Balance, Alex.” Marilyn’s words choked in her throat. “Tip the balance and something tumbles back.” A strangled cry came from her throat. “Up and down the scales go. You can’t have one without the other.”
“Shh,” Changeling Marilyn cooed. “I think I understand. Let me try. I am after all flesh of your flesh, though not exactly your child.”
Marilyn nodded as Flora pressed a mug of hot tea into her trembling hands.
“Your Nimby,” she said to Alex. “You were gifted with at birth.” She looked to Marilyn, who nodded. “Good, and I suspect the gift was from your father.”
“Yes, Cedric. You met your father,” Marilyn gushed. “He’s a fairy.”
“And he sent me Nimby?”
“Yes, to protect. To guide. To dance on your shoulder and on the head of a pin. For I am the mother…. Crap!”
“I’ve got this,” Changeling Marilyn said. “Just as I was created to maintain balance between the worlds, your Nevus fairy was like a weight in the balance. Cedric tricked your mother in love; a scale is tipped. He then gets her heavy with a child at May’s bidding. It tips further, but then he falls in love, and something swings a different way. At your birth, Alex, you did not enter the world alone. You came with a gift from your father.”
“Nimby.”
“Yes, not birthed by your mother but by your father.”
Marilyn nodded. “True, and boy was I surprised.” Her eyes were wide. “She flew out of his mouth.”
Changeling Marilyn continued. “And all around you and your brother, sister, your mother and father, the warriors you gather on the way, like Liam and Charlie, and now Finn, wheels turn, and weights shift.”
“For I am the mother of kings and of the girl who went down the hole.” Marilyn stared at Alice. Why is she silent? She walked over to the teen, who would not meet her gaze. “Alice.”
Alice pressed back against the cabinets, her face hidden in the curtain of her straight blonde hair.
“Daughter,” Marilyn pressed. Something is wrong. “Look up. Look at me.” Alice shook her head but did as asked.
“No.” Marilyn gently pulled back her daughter’s hair. She was shocked at the dark circles under Alice’s eyes. “So thin. You must eat.” She remembered how young girls in the See developed horrible problems with food. Is that this? Marilyn felt her daughter’s shoulders. “Anorexia.”
“No.” Alice shook her head and pulled back from her mother’s touch.
“No,” Alex affirmed. He glanced at Jerod.
“Tell her,” Jerod said. “Maybe she’ll know what to do.”
“Tell me,” Marilyn said as she looked from Alice to Alex. “Tell me.”
“It’s dust, Mommy,” Alice said. “I didn’t know, and now….”
“I am the mother of kings and of the girl who went down the hole. This is May’s doing. I could kill her. Perhaps I will…. How much dust?”
From her veil of bangs, Alice met her mother’s gaze. “None now. And I suffer.”
“It was worse before, wasn’t it?” Alex asked.
“Brother, I love you and Jerod both. But you
do not know. You in your happy shell of love and premed—‘Gee, I got another A’—cannot know. I won’t bore you, but I suffer, every day, every second.”
“As much as before?” Jerod asked.
“Different.” She slumped cross-legged onto the floor and wrapped her bony arms around her knees. “Then it was physical, now it’s worse. I was happy when I was dusted. I was free of everything bad that’s ever happened to us… to me.”
“I’m so sorry,” Marilyn managed, uncertain how to help.
“Not your fault… but then again, it was all your fault. It doesn’t matter. Shit happened, Mom. Really bad shit… because of you and the crazy. Kids shouldn’t know how much evil there is in the world, and we learned young… because of you and the crazy. So yeah, babble about being the mother of kings and of your holy daughter. I ain’t buying it.”
“It’s not her fault,” Alex said.
“It sort of is,” Alice replied. “None of this would ever have happened.”
“There’s truth in what she says,” Flora added. “But done is done. You can’t unmake an egg.”
“Yes,” Marilyn said. “And for my sins, for falling in love with your father, I got scrambled.”
Alice snorted. “That’s us. A whole lot of scrambled eggs. So I was dusted, Mom. And now I’m just sad all the time. Not a little sad. Not fourteen-year-old emo sad, and maybe sad is not a good enough word. I live in gray and black. There are no colors.” She looked to her brother. “You don’t get it. And why should you? I don’t want you to know, and I can’t believe I’m rambling like this. It’s mine. I’ll own it. But the dust… I know it wasn’t real, but for whole hours, even days, I was happy. And now… is this all there is? Am I ever going to feel normal? Am I ever going to stop thinking about the shit that happened to me in that house?”
Marilyn stared at Alice, too thin and curled on the floor. “What have I done?”
Alice stuffed a fist into her mouth.
Alex sat next to her and went to put an arm around her.
“Don’t.” Alice shrugged it off. “You can’t fix this. And I’m sorry for being such a shit. I’m happy for you and Jerod. But I’m fucking jealous. You get the happy ever after, and I’m the girl who got raped by a pervert.”
