Mom had been a wild one, even for a Carney. She had me when she was only sixteen…no judgment, just fact. I always figured Dad was a forty-miler, some guy with a nice ass, who rode the carousel with my Mom, then wandered off when the Carney life didn’t suit him. Mom had her fun, got me in the deal, and considered herself lucky. Witches, like Carnies, can’t afford to be overly romantic due to the exigencies of our unique lifestyles.
I’d heard Mom used to hang out with fairies. Apparently, she was really close to at least one fairy. King of the Air—for Pete’s sake, Mom had named me Ariel. Could she have been any more obvious? I hung my head in my hands and groaned weakly.
The fairy—my brother—looked puzzled.
Tom stood open-mouthed, trying to take in the change in our guide. I’m not sure our conversation sunk in. “What just happened?”
“I think we just gained an ally…and a lot of new problems,” I said, looking at my newfound non-human sibling. I needed to set that revelation aside until I had enough time to consider all the ramifications. “The fairies that snatched Amanda sent twenty demons after the Child of the Air. They were after me and didn’t know it. They sent the screamers to sniff out anyone who had Air Fae blood, which is why the monsters went through the back lot of the carnival by my trailer then came to me in the barn. Among humans, I stand out. Will my bit of fairy blood stay masked among the crowd of Fae?”
“It has so far. I did not hear any discussion of about your smell, sister.”
“If they find out who I really am, Tom and me are toast.”
At the fairy’s frown I said, “Tom and I are in danger.”
“Oh, yes. It would be very bad.”
“He’s your brother,” Tom said with skeptically raised eyebrows. “I don’t see the resemblance.”
Tom obviously had missed the whole “additional danger” aspect of the conversation. He was probably on overload and trying to find a comfortable topic.
“I don’t think he’s lying. He’s my half-brother,” I said, and turned to the brother in question. “What can we call you?”
“I answer to Sham.”
“So you’re a spy for your father.”
“Our father,” he corrected. “My glamor has allowed me to be privy to Mechtán’s plans to destroy our father.”
“Why did this Mechtin King snatch Amanda? She doesn’t know anything about magic or fairies.” Tom interjected.
“Mechtán is gathering his forces. Each person of his blood who swears fealty, adds to his power. She is his blood.”
“What started the war?” I asked. “I could see a war between Water and Land, since their territories encroach upon each other, but Water and Air have no obvious overlapping interests.”
“There was an insult which hasn’t been resolved,” my lovely sibling provided.
“Who made the insult?”
“The King of Water has taken the small Wild Fae of the Air to light his hall. This is a grave insult which cannot be countenanced.”
I remembered the glittering pixies on their tiny chains, the poor things. I had seen pixies in my world occasionally. They were kind of cute. I never had any problem with them. They lived their little lives and did not bother anyone who didn’t bother them first. Although, if they were provoked, they were little terrors. They were kind of like the Carnies of the fairy world.
Tom was thinking fast. “Then, if the little glowy guys were set free, there wouldn’t have to be a war? Amanda could go home?”
“I think it would be more complicated than that.” I wasn’t too up on fairy politics, but I couldn’t imagine it would be so simple.
Sham thought for a moment. “This could solve the issue. Mechtán will have no hostages. King of the Air will have no lost subjects.”
“If it’s so simple, why don’t you free the little Wild Fae?” I asked.
“I hate to see the little sylphs enslaved, but their chains are iron, placed by spell. I can’t touch them.” Sham covered his eyes and hung his head.
There was a flutter of movement at the window. Zach, in all his new iridescent glory, flew in. He circled the room and landed on my shoulder. His head cocked to look at Sham. “Hell’o,” he said.
Sham looked up, wiping tears from his eyes. “Ah, a familiar of great power. He is a child of Badbh. You are truly a strong Mage, sister mine.”
Not strong enough to get out of this mess, I thought. I needed to get back on topic. “Sham, do you think Mechtán will allow Amanda to come back to our world with us.”
“It is hard to say. The King is capricious, but he admired your bravery and insouciance concerning your situation. He needs to keep his daughter under a constant glamor, or she cries as though her heart is broken. He may choose to send her away. He may not.” Even Sham’s shrug was graceful. “There is not much more I can tell you. I must go. I will be missed.” He closed his eyes, and his hideous countenance reappeared. “My secret could mean my life.” He looked at me closely for a moment before he turned to leave. The smell of rot and ooze trailed after him as he left.
Zach fanned his wings, and the smell dissipated…somewhat. “Don’t get cocky, buddy,” I told him. “Familiar, my ass.” Zach made his Awwww sound. I scratched the back of his neck absently as I watched the door close on my newfound family.
“Do you think he’s really your brother?” Tom asked.
To my nod of affirmation, I added, “I haven’t seen a DNA test, but he feels right.”
“Can you trust him? You said these fairies were tricky.”
“You’re right, but I’ve got a feeling about this guy. I’m pretty sure he was telling the truth and that the Air King is my Dad, but you’re right. I don’t trust him completely.”
I walked over and looked out the window. “He might have his own agenda, but if he wanted to give us trouble, he’d have done it already.” There was a pile of white branches along the wall opposite the window.
Zach hopped off my shoulder and onto the table full of food and began shredding what looked like a ham. At least I hope it was a ham. After a minute, I realized the white branches against the wall were bones. I could make out the domed shapes of skulls intermingled with the long bones.
Grammy, are you down there?
I kept running the past hour over in my head. It had been a real big mistake to promise the King I’d look after Amanda. I should have been more circumspect with Sham. What could I have done differently? I am one of those people who has the confidence to make a quick decision but lack the self-assurance to accept that I’d made the right conclusion. I worried and second-guessed myself for the next ten days.
Tom brought me from my reverie. “Who’d have thought Sylvie was screwing the King of the Fairies. Hell, we were worried she was mixed up with a townie when she came home knocked up with you.”
“Mom did get around,” I said. “I just wish she had filled me in on the old family tree before she went off into the blue yonder.”
“Yeah, life is full of surprises. So, what’s the plan?”
“We wait.” I plopped down on one of the couches. My chain mail clinked. I fished around in my coat pockets for a bottle of water and some beef jerky. “Remember, don’t eat anything from here.” I tossed a chunk of jerky to Tom. “We need to keep up our strength.”
“Zach sure doesn’t seem to be suffering from the food,” Tom said through a mouthful of dried meat.
I shrugged. “I don’t think he is eating. He’s just ripping things up.” I offered Zach a piece of beef jerky, and he gulped it down. I poured water in a golden cup crusted with jewels, and he drank, dipping his bill and tossing back his head several times. I chewed a piece of jerky, wondering how the fool bird knew not to eat here.
Zach continued making a mess of the food on the table. Let the fairies think we ate it and were immune to the effects of the fare. It couldn’t hurt to have more bullshit building up my reputation as a powerful conjurer.
It seemed odd that Sham thought Zach was my familiar. Some
witches use an animal to channel their powers. I never used Zach to conjure. Although, I have to admit in my wild phase, after Mom died, I did use him once. I went for a ride along while he was flying. What I did was astral project into his brain. He did the flying, but I felt all the sensations and chose where to go. It was a lot of fun, but Zach was sick for a week afterward. I felt guilty, so I never risked it again.
Sham said something about Badbh. As I remember, she was the Fairy Queen of the Battle Crows, carrion eaters that followed armies.
“Zach, you know anybody named Badbh?”
He ignored me. I watched Zach bend a metal skewer with his beak, and I shuddered, thinking of the crows among the dead. A group of crows is a murder. A murder of crows on the battlefield, how appropriate…war is nigh.
I didn’t even like fairies, and now, I was in the middle of a fairy war. Boy, I really wanted to go back to reading Tarot cards and making hangover potions.
Tom was pacing around with his jaw locked and his fists clenched. “What’s going on with this fairy war, anyway?” he asked.
“From what I’ve read, there are two main Fairy kingdoms—summer and winter. They’re ruled by Queens. Then there are four minor kingdoms Air, Water, Land, and Fire, which have Kings. The minor kingdoms’ control falls under summer or winter, depending on the seasons. It is summer now.”
“Could we go over the King’s head and get the Summer Queen to make him let Amanda go?”
“I wouldn’t even know how to find her, Tom. The Queen would probably whack us, or worse, just for bothering her.”
“Isn’t the King like a husband? Maybe your dad can talk to the Queen.”
I thought for a minute and took another drink of water from my bottle. “I don’t think it works that way. Remember there are four Kings and only one Queen at a time. The way I understand it—it is something like seasonal fairy polyandery, with the Queen as the ultimate boss. Meanwhile, everybody is plotting, and planning, and messing with each other’s heads.
With this war starting, if I went to my dad, he’d probably grab me for my power, just like Mechtán grabbed Amanda.” It suddenly occurred to me that Sham thinking I was a powerful witch wasn’t a great idea. He might get dear old dad interested in me, which could seriously put a cramp in my lifestyle. Then again, being a Fairy Princess might suit me. Nah, I looked terrible in pink.
“Where do you think they took Amanda? Why didn’t she drown? How the hell did they come out through the water?”
“It’s magic, Tom. It’s hard to explain,” I said.
“I knew you had some mojo from your Grandma, but the stuff you did with the light, opening the doors in reality, and all the other stuff is pretty amazing. Maybe we should just grab Amanda next time we see her and split through one of those doors you make.”
“I hate to say it, Tom, but my little bit of magic isn’t anything. I’m a one-trick pony compared to these people. If we tried to grab Amanda, they would just grab her back. Then, they would probably serve us up as lunch for those trolls.”
* * * *
Tom paced while we waited. I understood the impulse, but he was making me crazy. I had already opened a way and checked where we would come out if we had to leave from this room. It would be in the middle of the street, near what looked like a warehouse. I saw a sign that pointed to the Ohio turnpike, so at least we would be in the same state as the carnival. It was night there, even though only about four hours had passed in this world. The sun here was high in the sky. I only hoped it was the same day as when we left the carnival back in our world. Time passed so differently here.
I sat on one of the comfortable lounge chairs, trying not to think about all the ways we could become suddenly and violently dead.
Tom stopped and whirled to face me. “This is making me crazy. We need to do something.”
“We would if we could. I just can’t think of anything to do that won’t hurt our cause.” I pulled out Amanda’s comb and it drew down and toward my left. “She is here somewhere, but I doubt we could find her. This place is a maze. You saw how bad it was when we came to this room. I’d have a hard time finding the main hall again.”
Zach flew up from the shambles of the buffet table and silently flapped out the window.
The door abruptly opened to reveal one of the cruel-eyed elf guards. He looked over at the devastation on the table and smiled, showing teeth like the blades of pinking shears.
“Come.” He sounded like Beaker on Sesame Street.
This guy was too dangerous for me to laugh at his high-pitched voice. Of course, it didn’t stop me from chortling nervously. Tom had stopped a little behind me. I did not get up from my lounge chair. I had to hope putting up a bold front would make me seem powerful. I also hoped my false confidence didn’t backfire. I had the spell to activate my defensive belt ready, in case the elf did something drastic. My staff was within easy reach.
The elf ground his triangular teeth, making a fingernails-on-the-chalkboard sound, which made the hairs on my neck stiffen. Tom winced.
“King Mechtán requires your presence.” The elf’s eyes said he really wanted to eat my entrails or maybe my beating heart.
I looked at him steadily, and I slowly stood and stretched. “We will come.” I smiled sweetly. He ground his teeth again, turned abruptly, and marched out.
“Big brass balls girl,” Tom muttered as we followed the evil elf.
I hoped the elf couldn’t smell the sweat that had broken out all over my body, although he probably could.
Chapter Twelve
The King was back on his throne with his cronies sitting on either side of him. Amanda was nowhere in sight. As we wound our way through the crowd, I saw Sham off to the side talking with a goat-legged satyr. The variety of smells coming from the crowd made me question their personal hygiene. At least the miasma would mask my tang of bastard Air Fae.
The music stopped, and the King spoke on the next beat. I wondered if they choreographed that. “Mage of the Land, Son of Bob, I have thought on your words. There is danger for my kin in your world. I would send minions to find my grandchildren to bring them here for safekeeping.”
“Like hell you will.” Tom started forward. I tripped him before the elf guards could gut him. Their swords had flashed out as soon as he opened his mouth. I applied a paralysis spell. I was confident with this spell. I used it often on handsy drunks. I doubt Tom was going to thank me for saving his life, though. He strained against the spell.
“Wise King…” My voice was so much calmer than my racing heart and dripping armpits indicated. “Excuse my friend. Your excellent wine has taken his wits.” I watched the King intently. He gave the briefest widening of his eyelids, so I continued. “Your grandchildren are far removed from the Fae. They only know the world of men. Oh King, you are wise in the ways of your world, but I know young humans. The sons of Amanda would pine and die unless they were kept under glamor night and day.” The last bit was a shot I threw in thanks to Sham’s information. I was pretty sure the King didn’t want to keep a whole gaggle of relatives under control. Sure, my fine behind! Who was I kidding? For all I knew, he might be able to keep the whole Mormon Tabernacle Choir under a glamor for years without any effort.
I could feel Tom struggling against my spell. My neck was getting stiff, and my head was starting to pound with the effort of holding him. The King watched me. I met his eyes with feigned relaxation. I bet a dollar he knew what I was doing to Tom. After a moment, he smiled, stood, and slowly walked back into the water column. He looked back at me before he disappeared. I wish I knew what he meant.
The music started in with a lively tune. The elves faded back into the crowd. I ended the spell on Tom, who rolled over and sat cross-legged, glaring at me.
“Tom, they would have cut you into troll kibble before you took two steps,” I said.
He closed his eyes. I could almost see him counting to calm himself. “Don’t ever do that again.”
I shrugged and held o
ut a hand. “If you don’t do anything that stupid, I won’t.” At his look, I added, “I promise.”
“What now?” he asked, hoisting himself to his feet.
I pulled him close. “Let’s mingle our way over to our stinky friend. We don’t want to move too fast. They all think we’re under the influence of the local food. It is supposed to addle our wits,” I whispered. “Smile, and let your eyes glaze a little.”
We sauntered into the crowd, weaving our way between elegant Fae, shaggy satyrs, and a couple of centaurs. I didn’t recognize either of the centaurs from our experience outside the castle. Merrows slopped and squished next to stunted Ogres. Among the crowd were several of the dangerous rat-faced Fir Darrig, and some creatures that looked like anthropomorphic goats.
Tom leaned close and asked me, “Are those the Billy Goats Gruff?”
I shrugged. “It looks like.”
As we worked our way through the crowd, we smiled and nodded, receiving some answering nods but more blank, speculative stares. As we moved steadily toward the hallway to our room, I sneezed a couple of times at a musty smell. I thought I was being facetious earlier when I said I had a troll allergy. Maybe I really am allergic. While we moved, Sham had been doing his own mingle dance toward us. We met at the entrance to the hallway.
“Allow me to escort you to your room, Daughter of Sylvan and Son of Bob,” he said with a slight bow of his head. His reek had increased, even though my nose was stuffy. He led us through the maze back to our circular room. The food table had been cleared and restocked. He changed to his real form as efficiently as he had the first time.
“What do you think the King will do?” I asked.
“I do not think he will free his daughter. He may keep the Son of Bob as a helot, because he was so impertinent.” Sham shook his head sadly.
“What’s a helot?” Tom asked.
“A slave,” I replied absently. “I think I can try something. It’s risky. Sham, do you really think freeing the pixies will stop the war?”
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