Fairy Lies

by E. D. Baker

  “I’m fine, thank you,” Tamisin told her. “Dasras has been taking care of me.”

  “What do you think of our blue boy?”

  “He’s very nice,” Tamisin replied, not sure how much she should say. She’d had conflicting feelings about Dasras all day, although she wasn’t sure why. Then Tamisin thought of a question she’d been dying to ask someone. “I thought Dasras was a fairy, but he said he isn’t. What is he then? I mean, he’s blue, so he can’t be a regular human.”

  “I’ve heard that he’s the son of a demigod. Oberon adopted Dasras when the boy was little.”

  “So I heard. If he’s the son of a demigod, does Dasras have any special abilities?”

  “None that I know of. He thinks he has a way with girls, but he really doesn’t. Listen, before I go back to work, there’s something I wanted to tell you. Doing the kind of work I do, I hear a lot. Fairies tend to take the nymphs and me for granted and sometimes forget we’re there. Anyway, be careful. Most fairies can’t be trusted at the best of times, and you’ve had enemies since the moment word got out that you existed. The fairies at Oberon’s court are very competitive. Because you’re his daughter, he’s bound to give you the attention they’ve been fighting over for years, and you won’t have to do anything to get it but be yourself.”

  “Why are you telling me this? You really don’t know me.”

  Irinia shrugged. “You remind me of my nieces. My twin sister married a human. They live in a place called New Jersey. I’ve been to visit them a few times, and I’m crazy about the kids.”

  “You mean your sister is able to pass as a regular human?”

  Irinia snorted. “Are you kidding me? It’s so easy! Look . . .” Turning around so her back was toward Tamisin, the woman squeezed her eyes shut, ran her fingers through her hair, and pulled it over the face on the back of her head. “A lot of my people go to the human world. We’re big fans of ice cream and television, and most of my family loves the Yankees. You know how people say someone has eyes in the back of their head? You’d be surprised how often it’s true! Anyway, I’ve got to go, but remember what I told you. Be careful!”

  Irinia stood and was about to leave when Tamisin spoke up. “There is one thing: I was wondering when I’d be able to see my father again. Dasras said Oberon would send for me when he wants to see me. Should I wait for a messenger, or should I just go see him on my own?”

  “If I were you, and it was my father,” said Irinia, “I’d go see him regardless of what anyone told me. But fairies are different, so . . .”

  “Thanks,” Tamisin said, getting to her feet. “I think I’ll do just that. Do you know where I would find him at this time of day?”

  “Probably in the glade where you first saw him. He’d be listening to petitioners right about now.”

  Tamisin enjoyed her walk through the woods, even if she was by herself. She hadn’t wanted to come to the fairies’ world, but now that she was back, she was excited to see what each new day brought. Oberon was her father, which meant that she was a full-blooded fairy, and it was here, in the land of the fey, that she should feel most at home. Smiling, she hugged herself from sheer happiness, delighted that she finally knew where she belonged.

  She was in such a good mood that she started to skip, but hadn’t gone far when she spied a cluster of daisies growing by the side of the path. Tamisin bent down to touch a velvety petal and was startled when a fairy dressed in the same yellow as the daisy darted out of the flowers like an angry bee.

  “Just what do you think you’re doing?” the fairy demanded, her pink cheeks turning red with anger. “You were going to pick one of my flowers, weren’t you? I bet you’re one of those people who picks every flower she likes. The nerve!”

  “I wasn’t going to—”

  “And picking it while I was inside, dusting it with pollen!”

  “I didn’t know you were there,” Tamisin replied. “And I wasn’t going to pick it.”

  “Yeah, like I believe that!”

  Tamisin sighed and started on her way again, no longer quite so excited. “At least at home no one jumps out of flowers at you,” she murmured to herself, and wondered how long she would think of the human world as home.

  A lilting melody drifted through the trees. Curious, Tamisin followed the song to the glade where a satyr was playing pan pipes while a pair of nymphs clacking finger cymbals skipped around the fairies waiting their turn to speak to the fairy king. A small group of fairies was standing in front of the fairy king, listening to him with rapt attention. They all looked serious, as if they were discussing something very important. Oberon’s expression made him seem formidable.

  Tamisin wasn’t sure what to do. Should she join the waiting fairies or approach Oberon directly? After all, he was her father and had brought her here so they could get to know each other, but if he was busy, maybe this wasn’t such a good time. She finally decided to stay where she was until most of the fairies had gone and he might actually have time to spend with her. While she was waiting, she could look for similarities between the two of them.

  She noticed right away that Oberon gestured when he spoke. She did that, too. So did a lot of people, but not as much as Oberon and not with so much emphasis. He also angled his head toward the person who was talking, something she didn’t do, nor did she lift one side of her mouth more than the other when she smiled. Oberon’s movements were distinctive and solely his. Tamisin didn’t recognize any of herself in what he did.

  She had been there only a few minutes when Oberon’s eyes drifted in her direction. With a gesture and a softly spoken word to the fairies, he ended their conversation and dismissed them. Leaning forward on his throne, Oberon beckoned to Tamisin. “What brings you here, dear child?” he asked once she had joined him. “Was there a boon that you wanted me to grant you? A gift, perhaps?”

  Tamisin shook her head. “I don’t want anything from you. I just want to get to know you.”

  “Really? How interesting,” said the fairy king. “You were watching me quite intently. Were you looking for something in particular?”

  “I was looking for ways that I might be like you, but I haven’t seen any yet. Do you suppose we might like the same kinds of things? I like dancing and gardening and visiting museums. My favorite food is caramel popcorn, and I like any music with a beat I can dance to. What about you? What do you like?”

  Oberon quirked an eyebrow in surprise. “You want to know what I like. No one has ever asked me that before, at least not the way you mean it. Well, I like pan pipe music and the sound of fairies laughing. I like the color green, but then so do most fairies. I like the tangy taste of frillet berries touched with dew and the way the forest smells after a gentle rain. And I like that you asked me this question,” he said, giving her the warmest smile she’d seen him give anyone.

  A fairy in the crowd coughed, and Oberon looked up, his smile fading. He sighed and turned back to Tamisin. “I would like to continue our talk, but I seem to have more petitioners than usual. Why don’t you stay while I complete my business for the day? You may watch me as long as you wish. Perhaps you’ll learn something more about me.”

  Tamisin stepped to the side, passing the fairies waiting to speak to Oberon. They glared at her as if she had jumped the line at an amusement park. “There aren’t too many here,” she muttered, thinking it wouldn’t take too long, but she’d been standing there only a few minutes when another group of fairies entered the glade.

  “You don’t need to stay if you don’t want to,” said a voice. It was Dasras; she was relieved to see a friendly face. “Oberon has probably already forgotten that you’re here. Come walk with me and I’ll show you around some more.”

  Tamisin was reluctant to go, but because it looked as if Oberon would be busy for quite some time, she decided that she might as well leave. She walked to the path with Dasras, thinking about all the things she would like to do with her father and wondering if he would ever have the time to
do them. When her adoptive father had brought work home from the office, he had always set it aside when Tamisin or her brothers wanted to talk or play catch or go for a walk. Of course, he hadn’t been a fairy with all the responsibilities of a king.

  Dasras paused to pick a daisy growing beside the path. “A blossom for your thoughts,” he said, handing Tamisin the flower.

  “I was thinking about my father. Do you suppose he’ll ever have time to do things with me? I mean, I thought he wanted to get to know me, but he’s so busy and . . .”

  Dasras no longer looked interested so much as annoyed. “He is the king,” he said, sounding impatient.

  “Yes, I know, but he brought me here, and I thought he’d try to spend some time with me. I don’t know, the whole thing has me so confused. I was sure he wasn’t my father, but now I’m sure he is, yet I don’t look like him at all, and when I try to talk to him . . . Am I boring you?” she asked. While she’d been talking, Dasras’s eyes had glazed over, and she knew he had stopped listening to her. She’d never had anyone ignore her quite so blatantly before. It irritated her at first, then started to make her angry.

  Dasras glanced at her and finally noticed her expression. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “You weren’t listening to me, were you?”

  “Sure I was,” he told her. “Your father . . . Confused . . . I heard you. I have something that will take your mind off all that. Come here.” Turning to face her, Dasras pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips against hers.

  Something in Tamisin told her that this was good, that this was the way it should be because he was her true love, but the rest of her was angry. If he loved her, he wouldn’t want to cut her off like this; he’d actually care about what was bothering her.

  “Don’t,” she said, putting her hands on his chest and pushing him away.

  “But why?” he asked as he tried to pull her close again. “I know you love me. You want this kiss as much as I do.”

  Hearing this, Tamisin wondered why she had ever thought she might love him, and the little voice that said she did grew fainter. “How could I love you? I barely even know you! What have I ever said that would make you think I love you?”

  Dasras let go of her arms and stepped back. “But you have to love me! It always works for . . . Never mind. I guess I was wrong.”

  “You bet you were wrong,” Tamisin said, rubbing her arms where he’d dug his fingers into her flesh. “Why did you say that I have to love you? I don’t have to do anything! And what did you mean, it always works? What are you talking about, your smooth approach? If that’s the way fairies do things around here, I don’t like it!”

  “I’m sorry,” Dasras said, looking embarrassed. “I guess it was a misunderstanding.”

  “I’d say!” said Tamisin. “I think I’ll skip that tour now.”

  “I said I was sorry! Listen, there’s a dance tonight. Actually there’s a dance almost every night. I was going to ask if you wanted to go with me this evening.”

  Although Tamisin usually welcomed any reason to dance, she wasn’t in the mood for it tonight. All she wanted to do was be alone to think. Besides, what if she danced and her mother’s fairies were drawn to her? She had no desire to see her mother just then, not after learning that Titania had lied to her about her father. But she didn’t feel she could share that with Dasras. He was acting strangely, and she had no desire to explain herself to him.

  “Not tonight,” replied Tamisin. “I’m awfully tired.”

  “Tomorrow night, perhaps?” he said, looking hopeful.

  “Maybe,” she told him. But she didn’t think she would.

  Chapter 8

  Morning mist still lingered in the dips and hollows when Jak and his friends started out. Tobi sneezed as he scampered ahead while the others followed more slowly. When he came back, the fur on his head and arms was damp.

  The sun was just beginning to burn away the mist when Jak adjusted his backpack. “I’ve been thinking,” he said to Tobi. “Oberon taking Tamisin like this is the worst possible thing that could happen right now. The goblins are restless and Titania needs Oberon’s support more than ever, but kidnapping Tamisin was bound to drive a wedge between them. It wasn’t like it was a friendly invitation.”

  “That’s true,” piped up Tobi. “Rumors say that Titania’s furious, which is why I’m not going anywhere near her.”

  “The fairy queen will never thtop until the hath Tamithin,” Lamia Lou said. “I can’t blame her, though. I would do the thame thing if it were my daughter.”

  Herbert snorted. “Even after she gets Tamisin, she won’t ever forgive Oberon. This is so much worse than that time they fought over that blue boy.”

  “Everyone who doesn’t like fairy rule would be happy,” said Tobi. “There’d be chaos again, just like there was before Titania and Oberon took control.”

  “There won’t be any fighting if I can get Tamisin back to her mother fast enough,” said Jak. “I just have to get there before Titania’s army starts the first battle.”

  They were well into the hills of the Griffin Hunting Grounds when Tobi began to whine. “Can I ride on your back?” he asked Herbert. “I’m tired and my feet hurt.”

  “No!” said the unicorn. “What do you think I am, a horse?”

  Tobi ran around Herbert to walk beside Lamia Lou. “Then how about you?” he said. “I know you give people rides.”

  “Only thertain people,” she replied. “And you’re not one of them.”

  Tobi pouted, but a moment later he was skipping along next to Jak, looking up at him with big pleading eyes. “Jak, could you—”

  “No,” said Jak. “I’m not carrying you.”

  “But I had to walk all the way to the Sograssy Sea just to talk to you, and now you’re making me walk all the way to—”

  “No one is making you go,” Jak told him. “You could always turn around and go home.”

  “Huh,” Tobi grunted.

  It wasn’t long before the little goblin disappeared over a hillock, returning only a few minutes later carrying small blue eggs. “Look what I got, Jak! Do you want one?”

  “Sure,” Jak told him, holding out his hand.

  Looking disappointed, Tobi shuffled away a few steps. “They probably aren’t fresh. I wouldn’t want to cause you tummy trouble, Jak. You probably shouldn’t eat any.”

  “Then why did you offer them to me?” Jak asked, trying not to laugh.

  “Because I’m an extra-considerate person!” said Tobi. “Everyone always says—”

  “Shh!” said Herbert. “Listen!”

  Jak glanced at the unicorn, whose ears were pricked toward the next hill. He turned toward the hill, but couldn’t see anything at first. Then he heard it—a very faint, very shrill whistle like the kind he’d heard people use in the human world to call their dogs. The sound grew louder as they stood waiting for the source of the sound to appear.

  Tobi shrieked and threw up his hands as a dark shadow swept over them. The eggs he’d been holding flew through the air, splattering on the ground when they hit. Pressing his hands to his ears, the little goblin ran behind Jak and tried to make himself look as small as possible.

  Jak had never seen a griffin before and couldn’t help but admire the way it soared over them, its eagle wings spread wide to catch the updraft from the hills. The griffin was enormous, with the lower body of a full-sized male lion and the upper body, head, and wings of a golden eagle. It eyed them as it flew past, the sound becoming a scream as it turned and banked in their direction.

  “That whithtling thound cometh from the air ruthing over their lion clawth,” said Lamia Lou. “Thee how he can’t tuck hith back legth clothe to hith body?”

  “Are you sure griffins are afraid of lamias?” Tobi asked, peeking out from behind Jak. “Because he doesn’t look afraid to me.”

  Lamia Lou shaded her eyes with her hand and watched as the griffin drew closer. “Maybe he hathn’t theen me yet.” Ri
sing up on her tail, the lamia waved her arms in the air and shouted, “Thoo! Go away!”

  The griffin opened his beak and screamed. Whimpering, Tobi tried to dig a hole in the ground.

  “Uh, Lamia Lou, I think Tobi’s right,” said Jak. “That griffin doesn’t look like he’s afraid of anything. Don’t worry. I can handle him.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a comb. Transmogrification was one of the skills Jak had learned in goblin school. Unlike full-blooded goblins who could turn one natural object into another, he could turn one manufactured object into another. He’d found that he could make even intricate machinery, provided he’d studied an example and knew how it worked. However, right now he didn’t need anything so complex. A simple sword would work just fine. Jak held up the comb and concentrated.

  Bobbing his head up and down, Herbert snorted, and pawed at the ground. “If he comes any closer, I’ll get him with my horn!”

  The lamia sighed. “He mutht be a young one if he doethn’t know enough to be afraid of me. He needth to be taught a lethon. I’m the one who thaid we thould go thith way, tho it’th up to me to deal with that griffin. I wath jutht hoping I wouldn’t have to do thith. Thtand back, everyone. I can handle thith guy.”

  Lamia Lou coiled her tail beneath her, waiting for the griffin’s return. The beast swooped low, the eagle claws on the front of its body reaching. “Duck!” shouted Lamia Lou.

  Jak threw himself to the ground when Lamia Lou shouted, and Tobi was already halfway into a hole he’d dug for himself, so the griffin veered toward the still-standing unicorn. Lamia Lou shrieked as the griffin descended on Herbert, but the unicorn was lunging and thrashing, and she couldn’t get near him. Then Herbert swung his head around, smashing his horn into the griffin’s foot and breaking off one of the beast’s talons. Screaming, the griffin grappled with Herbert until he was able to wrap his remaining talons around the horn. He was straining to lift Herbert off the ground when Lamia Lou launched herself into the air like a suddenly released coiled spring. Latching on to the griffin’s leg with her hands, she swung her tail up and over its back, getting an unbreakable hold on its massive body.