A Risky Proposition

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A Risky Proposition Page 9

by Dawn Addonizio


  Sunny shrugged and gave me a pained glance that asked how she was supposed to have known that. I bit my lip in amused commiseration.

  “Where’s Sparrow?” I asked.

  “He got tied up with some big police raid. He sent a message that he wasn’t going to be able to meet you and asked me to bring you to the station.”

  “Oh.” My gut clenched in both anxiety and disappointment.

  It had taken me twice as long as usual to get ready since I knew I was going to see Sparrow again, and now he wasn’t even coming.

  “Can I go with you?” Sunny asked hopefully.

  “Sorry, Sunny. Agent Sparrow had to fill out a mountain of paperwork just to get Sydney in, and Seelie security is no joke. I don’t think I could sneak you in even with an anti-detection spell hand-cast by Lauringer herself.”

  “Who?” asked Sunny.

  Lorien rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Titania’s wand. Lauringer! Any school-child can tell you that she’s the most powerful mage alive!”

  Sunny glared at her in annoyance, “Human here! No clue about the inner workings of Seelie City, or wherever, much less who gets their own page in the faerie history books.”

  Lorien blinked at her. “Yeah, sorry,” she mumbled, clenching and unclenching her small fists. “I guess I’m just a little on edge about Sydney’s meeting with Balthus. Speaking of which, we have to go!”

  She flitted over to hover in front of me, faint purple shimmers of faerie dust falling from her wings as she motioned for me to rise.

  Sunny stood up to give me a hug. “I wi…I mean, I’d really like it if I were coming with you. Good luck, and whatever you do, don’t wish for anything!”

  I chuckled nervously and turned to follow Lorien.

  “Close your eyes, Sydney, and don’t open them ‘til I tell you. I don’t want you getting dizzy and passing out on me.”

  The last thing I saw before my eyelids fell shut was her pulling a tiny silver pouch from an inner pocket of her color-shifting dress. A strange tingling began at the top of my scalp and she commanded from above my head, “Lock your knees!”

  The tingling sensation quickly spread downward, sweeping over my body in a rush like a bucket full of ice-water. I gasped in shock as I felt a heart-stopping jerk, like I’d been perched at the top of a roller coaster and had coasted over the edge. My muscles tightened in panic against the sudden ruthless demand of gravity.

  I remembered with alarm that Lorien had told me to do something…lock my knees! I tried to persuade my legs to comply with my brain, and they shook in protest as I finally managed some semblance of a knee-lock.

  Suddenly the sickening momentum of falling ceased and I was floating downward as if the air itself had decided to cushion me. My muscles slowly relaxed and all thoughts of locking my knees were swept away just as my feet made contact with something solid. I collapsed heavily to the ground which, lucky for me, was soft and spongy.

  I opened my eyes in surprise, despite Lorien’s admonition to wait for her say-so, and found myself on a grassy slope between the arms of towering twin mountains. The air was cool and cleaner than anything I’d ever tasted. I blinked dizzily at my surroundings, taking deep breaths in an attempt to ward off unconsciousness.

  A slender waterfall spilled down a rocky outcrop in the mountainside nearest me. It flowed into a little spring, rushing to merge with the waters of a crystalline lake that sprawled at the feet of the mountains. The spot where I had landed was carpeted in soft, vibrant green.

  Dandelion tufts drifted on the breeze, and tiny yellow and purple flowers sprouted everywhere. Enormous jewel-toned dragonflies hovered and darted around me, while a sweet chirruping sound gave counterpoint to the faint buzz of their wings.

  As I strained to identify the sound, I noticed a small movement in the folds of greenery at my fingertips. I looked down to see a miniscule, golden-brown frog, its round eyes blinking up at me curiously, irises tinted with gold-dust.

  It was so cute that I scooped it into my palm to get a closer look. It didn’t seem afraid, it just looked back at me, its throat swelling as it let out a trilling chirrup. Joy bubbled up from deep within me and I realized that I was surrounded by frog song.

  I lay my hand flat on the ground and gently nudged the creature. “Go sing with your friends.” It blinked at me once more and then hopped away.

  “Thank Titania you didn’t pass out!” I looked up to find Lorien hovering above me with a worried expression.

  “Where have you been? And what is this place? It’s amazing!” I pushed to my feet and brushed the dirt from my jeans. I noticed with a grimace that the damp vegetation had left an embarrassing wet spot right over my butt.

  “Welcome to the faerie realm, Sydney,” she said as she flitted higher to avoid a stray piece of moss I flicked off my hand. “We’re just beyond the outskirts of Seelie City—and not too far from my home.”

  “It’s just…amazing,” I breathed a laugh, unable to find a better word to describe it. “But how come I got here before you did? I thought all you had to do was blink in and out.”

  She blushed. “Oh that. Well, I seem to have miscalculated a bit. I meant for you to land right by the mountain pass. But don’t worry—it’s only a short climb down to get there.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Short climb?”

  “Um, yeah. Not too bad. Come on, I’ll show you.” She darted away before I could voice my concern about climbing anything in jeans and sandals—not to mention my silk top.

  I followed her past the lake, stepping carefully to avoid the frogs, and around the perimeter of a craggy rock formation. Lichen and spiky pink flower-buds covered its pitted surface and its lip rose from the ground, creating a small cave.

  I stared inside it, but couldn’t see very far before the light disappeared into blackness. I got an odd impression of depth, as if it weren’t simply a depression beneath the rock, but delved deep beneath the mountain itself. I shook off the urge to crouch lower and peer into the gloom, and turned to catch up with Lorien.

  Soft echoing laughter floated up behind me. I spun around to see a chubby faerie child galloping out of the darkness, riding on the harnessed back of a tiny golden frog. He giggled and gripped the threadlike reins in his plump little fists, shaking them with each leap.

  A glowing bluish bubble drifted along after him. As it faded into the light of day I realized that it was a lantern, held by a beautiful faerie woman with long, dark hair and a striking resemblance to Lorien.

  I watched the scene unfold, frozen in awe. The faerie woman smiled up at me serenely as the child continued his cavorting frog ride. He didn’t seem to notice the giant human towering above him.

  “You must be Sydney,” the woman spoke, fluttering up to greet me at my level. She wore a color-shifting dress like Lorien’s, but in pastel shades of pink, blue and yellow. “I’m her sister, Eleanor. And that’s my son, Obie, and our frog, Buster.” She gestured down toward the frolicking pair with an indulgent roll of her eyes. “Obie, say hello to Miss Sydney,” she called.

  Obie pulled the reins and said, “Heel, Buthter.” When the frog settled to a stop, he raised his dark head to stare at me, violet eyes growing wide in his chubby pink face. He waved and lisped, “Hello, Mith Thydney. You’re big!”

  I giggled. “Hello, Obie. You and Buster look like you’re having fun.”

  He gave an exuberant nod. “Can I ride thumore?” He looked to his mother for permission. She nodded and he kicked his heels, laughing as the frog leapt back into a gallop.

  “I see you’ve met my sister and nephew.”

  I tore my gaze from Obie with a helpless smile and turned to look at Lorien.

  She made a tsking sound. “Ellie, I know I promised I’d introduce you to Sydney, but we have an important meeting now.”

  Eleanor gave a placid shrug. “You’re the one who brought her to our doorstep. I told you how precise the measurement had to be for the transport powder. I thought we’d practiced all thi
s.”

  “Give me a break, Ellie! You know it was my first time. It’s not like I sent her into the goblin territories!” Lorien was visibly flustered.

  “No. You’re right.” Eleanor’s nose twitched in amusement. “I suppose it could have been worse. But you’re going to have to call a peg up here to get her down—she’s not going to be able to make that climb.”

  “Aw, Ellie! You know how testy they get when you ask them to fly someone! The climb down isn’t that bad,” she insisted.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Lori,” Eleanor chided.

  “Alright,” Lorien agreed sourly. “Sydney, follow me to the edge and I’ll try to find a peg to fly you down.”

  She buzzed off in a huff, orange dust sprinkling a quickly fading trail behind her. “She’s just jealous because I won our bet,” I heard her grumble under her breath.

  “A peg?” I asked, wondering at the strange term as I turned back to Eleanor.

  “You’ll see,” she answered, amusement lighting her eyes.

  I gave her a dubious look. “Uh, I guess I should go, then. It was nice to meet you and Obie.”

  Laughter danced in her expression. “It was nice to meet you too. You’re Lorien’s first human charge, you know. I’m quite proud of her, despite my teasing. She takes her guardianship of you most seriously. Good luck with your meeting—I hope to see you again.” She glided down toward her son and I turned to follow Lorien.

  As I approached the rim of a small cliff, the discordant notes of arguing voices drifted up to greet me.

  “No! Of course I don’t think you’re some kind of pack mule! I simply made a mistake and I’m asking for your help. I’ll double your fee.”

  A response came in the form of a heavy snort, followed by an angry-sounding voice clearly enunciating the words, “I. Don’t. Fly. Humans.”

  I looked over the edge in time to see a beautiful horse with a gleaming chestnut coat and long, feather-tipped wings. It turned its back on Lorien and trotted away, tossing its head in annoyance.

  “Bloody faerie, why don’t you sprinkle her with dust and fly her down on your own back,” it muttered.

  “Peg. Pegasus,” I whispered to no one in particular, a hysterical laugh gurgling up into my throat.

  Lorien threw her hands up in aggravation. “Stupid donkey,” she mumbled, but not loud enough for the departing creature to hear.

  I studied the sheer rock face beneath me. It dropped about fifteen feet to the ground below, which was littered with fragments of broken boulders. I agreed with Eleanor—there was no way I was climbing down that. But I kept the thought to myself, not wanting to further antagonize Lorien.

  She flitted upward to meet me, heaving an irritated sigh. “I’m not sure what to do, Sydney. The pegs have this stupid notion that it’s demeaning to carry someone on their back when they fly. They’ll trot you up and down the road all day for the right fee, but ask them to fly someone a few measly feet and they act like you just called their mother a mule,” she grumbled.

  “Hmm. Can’t you sprinkle me with some more of that transport powder stuff and just transport me down?” I asked.

  She drooped in frustration. “That only works for transportation between realms. And I don’t have enough to send you to your realm and bring you back here again.”

  I stared down at the rock wall dubiously. “Well, maybe I could try to climb down. It’s just that if I fall, I’m not exactly going to have a soft landing.” I gestured unhappily at the jagged rocks below.

  “I have healing dust that would soothe any cuts or bruises,” she offered.

  “You got anything for broken bones?” I asked with a grimace.

  Lorien sagged. “Oh, you’re right Sydney. You can’t climb this.”

  “What seems to be the problem, ladies?” drawled a deep voice.

  I looked down to find another winged horse blinking up at us. His flanks were thick and heavily knotted with muscle and his coat was a handsome blend of golden tones, offset by the white feathered tips of his immense wings and his matching white mane and tail.

  “Good day to you, Master Peg,” Lorien said in a polite tone as she zoomed down to hover near the pegasus. “I’m Lorien, and this is my human charge, Sydney.” She gave him a pleading look. “And I’ve made a mistake and could really use your help.”

  The creature made a rumbling noise that invited her to continue.

  “You see,” she rushed on, “I meant to transport her to the peg station down the hill so we could buy a ride to the police station in Seelie City for an important meeting. But it was my first attempt at inter-realm transport, and I miscalculated and sent her to the wrong spot. So now we’re going to be late for our appointment because I can’t figure out how to get her down.”

  “I see,” the peg answered with a nod.

  “I would never ask if it weren’t an emergency,” she said imploringly, “but could you possibly fly her down and then get us to the police station? I’ll pay extra for your trouble.”

  He blinked up at us, a rolling thunder beginning deep in his chest, growing into a full-fledged laugh that vibrated the air around us. Lorien and I glanced at each other uncertainly.

  “Everyone makes mistakes, Mistress Lorien,” he rumbled finally. “I’m Titus. And I’d be glad to bring Miss Sydney down and take her wherever she needs to be.” He unfolded his wings, their colossal span robbing me of breath as he gracefully leapt up to land beside me with one powerful thrust.

  I wondered why he had agreed when the other peg had been insulted by the very idea, but I was too grateful for his aid to question it.

  “My thanks, Master Titus.” Lorien smiled, her wings buzzing happily as they filtered emerald dust.

  “Climb on, little human,” Titus boomed, giving me a horsey grin as he sank to the ground and lifted his wings so that my legs could rest beneath them. “Pull yourself up with my mane.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked uncertainly, striving to climb up without pulling too hard. I ended up hanging onto the coarse tresses for dear life to keep from sliding back down the barrel of his side as I tried to right myself atop him. But the tugging didn’t seem to bother him.

  It was painfully obvious that I was no equestrian. I was damp with sweat by the time I positioned myself to sit high astride his back, my hands resting on his neck. “Thank you so much, Mr. Titus,” I said finally, heaving a sigh of relief.

  “Hold on now!” he warned.

  I barely had time to tighten my fingers in his mane as he rose with dizzying speed and leapt over the edge to glide smoothly down to the ground below. I heard a high-pitched squeal and belatedly realized it had come from my own throat.

  “Piece of oatcake,” Titus said with satisfaction. “Now, Miss Sydney, if you would kindly lift your feet for a moment so I can refold my wings.”

  I slowly released my white-knuckled grip on his mane and exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding as I obliged his request.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he drawled as he cantered down the hill to the mountain pass, Lorien darting along behind us.

  A group of four pegs came into view. One of them was the chestnut from before, while two of them were warmer shades of cinnamon and the fourth boasted an eye-catching mix of black and white patching. They all looked sleek and trim, giving an impression of youth next to the mature bulk of Titus’ physique. They whispered amongst themselves as we reached the bottom of the hill, glancing at us and letting out snickering little neighs as we approached.

  The black and white bared his teeth in a sneer and flicked a disdainful glance at us. The others scoffed in agreement.

  Titus ignored them, until the chestnut said the words ‘pack mule’ a little too loudly. Then he stopped in his tracks. I instinctively rewrapped my fingers in the long white hairs of his mane.

  The chestnut’s three companions whickered in amusement. It was a mistake. Titus shot forward like a massive bullet. I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed I wouldn’t fall—even though
we weren’t in the air, it was still a long way to the ground. He stopped just short of the group and pawed in the dirt before them, his head tossing wildly. The four pegs backed up with their eyes rolling in fear.

  “Now you listen to me!” Titus roared. “There’s pride, an’ then there’s foolishness. And if you weanlings aren’t old enough to know the difference, then you’d better hoof it back to your mothers’ sides and learn it before coming back to work at this station.”

  He snorted. “If they’re not too ashamed to have you. Leaving a guest to our realm, and a lady, stranded in order to preen your own feathers,” he accused in disgust. “Just because we don’t take flying jobs, it doesn’t mean we refuse to help out when someone’s in a tight spot. If I ever hear that any of you have been so insufferably rude again, you’ll find yourselves on haulin’ detail in the goblin mines. Do you understand me?” he growled.

  I had never heard a horse growl; it was a surprisingly frightening sound.

  “Yes, Titus,” they gibbered in unison, their eyes still rolling, expressions humbled.

  Titus stared them down for another long minute, then snorted and turned away.

  Lorien and I kept our mouths shut.

  “Sorry about that,” Titus apologized after we had traveled a distance from the chastened pegs. “Sometimes the younguns need to be put in their places. I hope my outburst didn’t startle ya’, Miss Sydney.”

  “Uh, not too much,” I lied.

  “We’re just thankful that you came along,” Lorien chimed in.

  “My pleasure to serve, ladies,” he said, tipping his great head. “Next stop, Seelie City.” His laughter rumbled through me as he increased his pace to a rolling gallop.

  I held on tighter and prayed I wouldn’t bounce right off of him.

  Chapter 9 – Balthus Bound

  “Ugh,” Lorien groaned, “I’ll never get used to flying into bound space.”

  I shot her a questioning look.

  “We just crossed the border into Seelie City. I told you, you can’t blink in and out of here without special authorization. Remember?”

 

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