by E. D. Baker
Tamisin wanted to tell Oberon about the incident with the sea monster, but she saw his eyes and his attention shift to the colonel and the messenger fairy and decided it wasn’t the right time. “Nothing, really,” she said, and was disappointed when he didn’t press for her real answer. “Dasras has been showing me around.”
“Good,” said Oberon, still watching the colonel. “And the others? I trust my fairies are making you feel welcome.”
“Yes, they are.” If she’d thought she really had his attention, she would have been tempted to tell him about the cold glances and the comments she’d overheard, but she thought it would be petty and not make any difference anyway.
“Fine, fine,” he said, although he was looking at Mountain Ash, not her. She glanced toward the colonel and saw the nod he gave to Oberon. The fairy king finally turned to look at Tamisin, saying, “I’m sorry, my dear. I brought you here to get to know you better, but it appears that the report I’ve been expecting has arrived.”
“I understand,” she said, although she couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Tamisin backed away as she’d seen the other fairies do, embarrassed that she had simply walked away the last time she saw the king. She didn’t know anything about protocol in a fairy court, so she resolved to start paying attention. It wouldn’t do to embarrass her father just when their relationship was . . .
“I don’t care what your spies tell you. Titania isn’t about to send her army here,” Oberon told Mountain Ash, his voice loud and angry. “I know my wife. When she’s in the wrong, she always backs down. She deceived me! The last thing she’s going to want to do is make me angrier.”
Tamisin froze, watching Oberon’s face. She wanted to hear more, but the voices grew quieter after that and she couldn’t make out what anyone was saying. She’d been taught that eavesdropping was wrong, but who could blame her for listening when it was about her own mother! And what was that about her mother’s army?
A thick fog began to form around the glade, making it impossible to see Oberon or anyone with him. “I guess that means he really does want me to leave,” she murmured to herself, and hurried away, wishing she knew what was going on.
Tamisin’s stomach rumbled. She would have loved a hamburger and french fries, but she knew that the main item on the menu was bound to be fruit, so she headed for the rock where Irinia served the food, hoping that the woman would be there and could be talked into serving something else.
Irinia and her helpers were at the far end of the rock examining a basket of fruit that a dog-goblin man was holding when Tamisin arrived. One of the fairies noticed her approach and nudged the fairy beside her. They all turned to look as Tamisin reached them, although none of them said hello. There was a flurry of movement as they each reached for one last piece of food, then moved off. Tamisin tried to ignore them.
While waiting for Irinia to come over, Tamisin glanced down at the food spread out on the rock. There was the usual fruit, of course, but there was also a platter of wafers dotted with dollops of crushed berries. She reached for one, wondering what kind of fruit was on them. It was bright red, almost a fluorescent color that she hadn’t seen in fairy food before. Mashed into a seedy pulp, it smelled like raspberries, cranberries, and the extra-sweet smell of something she didn’t recognize.
She had just brought the wafer to her mouth and was about to bite down when one of Irinia’s faces glanced her way. The woman shrieked, lunged across the rock, and knocked the wafer from Tamisin’s hand. “Don’t eat that!” she cried.
“Why not?” asked Tamisin, startled.
“Because it’s not fresh!” Irinia said in a loud voice, glancing at the fairies who had stopped to watch. A couple of the fairies snickered and they all moved on. While one of her faces watched the fairies, the other whispered so only Tamisin could hear, “Those have frillet berries on them. Anyone who eats them who isn’t a full-blood fairy would have hallucinations, or worse. Just a few berries would be enough. I never put them out except at Oberon’s request, and he didn’t ask for these. Those fairies must have done this,” she said, glancing at the group that was walking away. “They’re probably testing you to see if you’re a full-blood. Are you all right? Did you eat any?”
“No more than a tiny taste,” said Tamisin.
“That shouldn’t hurt you,” said Irinia. “But you should probably lie down for a while. Here, rinse your mouth out with this, then drink the rest.” She handed Tamisin a hollowed-out gourd filled with spring water, and watched while Tamisin swished some in her mouth, then spit it out at the base of a tree.
“I was hoping to get something to eat,” said Tamisin after swallowing a sip. “Those wafers . . .”
“Here, take these,” Irinia said, giving her a handful of plain ones. “Now go lie down, and be careful what you eat the next time you’re hungry!”
Tamisin nodded and turned to go. It wasn’t until she was halfway to the tree where she slept at night that she thought of an important question. Why, if she was supposed to be the daughter of Titania and Oberon, and therefore a full-blooded fairy, did Irinia think that the frillet berries would hurt her? Did her friend think that Tamisin was part human, or was she just being extra careful?
Tamisin took Irinia’s advice and retreated to her bed to lie down. She’d never been in her hanging bed past daybreak, and it seemed odd to rest when everyone else was busy. After only a few minutes of lying on her back, staring up through the branches overhead, Tamisin thought about getting up again until she noticed that the leaves of the trees looked strange. The colors seemed to shift in a way that a change of light couldn’t explain. She saw other colors like a deeper red and an odd blue that she’d never seen on leaves before. A leaf with a strong blue tinge was hanging right over her bed; when she reached out to touch it, she found it felt dry and not as supple as the rest. She wondered if the colors might actually mean something about the leaves.
A black-and-brown-banded caterpillar inched past. Tamisin had never seen anything like the pale green haze around it, although she had read about auras. A bee with a yellow haze landed on her hand, then flew away, leaving pollen-dust footprints. Tamisin was amazed that she could see something as tiny as the footprints of a bee. When it occurred to her that the odd things she was seeing might be what fairies saw every day, she began to look around with greater interest.
Eventually her lids grew heavy as she drifted off to sleep and the most colorful dreams she’d ever had.
Chapter 10
Jak and his friends had crossed only half the length of the Griffin Hunting Grounds when the sun started to go down. “This is as good a place as any to spend the night,” said Herbert, snuffling a clump of dry-looking grass.
“We could keep walking,” said Jak. “The sky is clear and the moon is only a few nights away from being full.”
“I’m tired,” Tobi said, showing them an exaggerated yawn.
“Tho am I,” said Lamia Lou. “We could all do with a good nighth retht.”
Jak shrugged. He was eager to reach Tamisin, but even he knew that they would make better time the next day if they weren’t dragging their feet. “It means sleeping under the open sky,” he said.
“I’ve done it before,” said Tobi.
“Yeah, but not in the Griffin Hunting Grounds,” replied Jak.
“We’re a long way from any shelter,” said Herbert. “We’ll be fine if we take turns keeping watch.”
“I’ll take the first watch,” Jak volunteered. “I’m not tired yet.” He swung his backpack off his shoulder and was looking for a place to sit when he nearly tripped over Tobi. The little goblin was curled up on the ground, already sound asleep.
“I’m not so sure we should ask him to take a turn,” said Herbert.
Jak shook his head. “I think we’d all sleep better if we didn’t.”
Hours passed while Jak stared into the dark, but neither a griffin nor any other creature moved in the night sky. Herbert slept standing up while Lamia Lou lay
stretched out beside him, her head pillowed on her arms. When it was the unicorn’s turn, Jak lay on the hard ground, worrying about Tamisin. He didn’t think he would sleep, but suddenly it was morning, the sky was growing lighter, and Lamia Lou was poking him and telling him it was time to get up.
Herbert was already munching grass when Jak opened his pack and took out one of the granola bars he’d brought from home. Seeing the pleading look on Tobi’s face, he sighed and reached in for another. “Would you like one?” he asked Lamia Lou, but she shook her head.
“I’ve already eaten my breakfast,” she said.
Jak didn’t want to know what she’d eaten.
They spent most of that day crossing the seemingly endless rolling hills without seeing any more griffins. By late afternoon they had reached a pine forest and Jak was relieved that he could stop watching the sky.
“Are we almost there yet?” Tobi asked for the hundredth time that day.
“We’re thtill mileth from the Great Ditch,” said Lamia Lou. “We’ll thleep in the foretht tonight and reach the Ditch tomorrow. What ith it, Herbert?” she asked, glancing at the unicorn, who had stopped walking.
Herbert had his head up, his mouth open, and his lips curled back to smell the air. “I smell a unicorn!”
“Gee, what a surprise,” muttered Tobi. “I didn’t want to mention it, but I thought you were a little whiffy.”
Herbert snorted and glared at the raccoon goblin. “I don’t mean me! I smell another unicorn. And there’s something else . . .” He sniffed again, then started walking, stopping every now and then to check the scent. They had reached the edge of a clearing when Herbert swung his head around, blocking Jak’s way with his horn.
“What—” Jak began.
“Shh!” whispered Herbert. “Just look.”
Jak peered between the leaves, trying to see. There was a unicorn, black with a white mane and tail, slowly approaching a girl with long blond hair. The girl was seated on the ground, her skirts spread out around her. She had her back to Herbert and his friends, so they couldn’t see her face, but from the black unicorn’s adoring expression Jak was certain that she had to be beautiful.
“This is a very special moment,” Herbert whispered. “The unicorn is about to claim his maiden.”
While they watched, the unicorn knelt beside the maiden, then lay down, resting his head in her lap. He gazed up at her adoringly while she caressed his forelock. Finally, he closed his eyes in contentment.
Silently the maiden inched back her skirt and slid out a halter that had been hidden under it. The unicorn still had his eyes closed when she slipped the halter on him and shoved his head off her lap. Springing to her feet, she watched as a swarm of armed goblins emerged from the trees.
“Here,” the girl said, handing the biggest goblin the lead line attached to the halter. “He’s all yours.” Raising her hand, she snatched off the blond wig she was wearing and tossed it aside. “I hate that thing! It makes my head itch.” She dug her fingers into her own short, thick hair and scratched her head with both hands at once. When she turned around, Jak saw that, like all the goblins gathered near her, she had the wide forehead and blunt ears of a wolverine goblin. Just like them, she had long, pointed teeth that looked sharp enough to bite through tanned leather.
The unicorn must have been in a daze, because it took him some time to react. When he finally tried to get to his feet, goblins piled onto his back, weighing him down.
“Hold his head still,” said the goblin in charge. While some of the still-standing goblins jumped to do as he asked, the others scurried out of his way as their leader knelt beside the unicorn. Taking a hatchet off his belt, the goblin used the weapon to tap the base of the unicorn’s horn as if to gauge where to hit it. He was raising the hatchet high when Herbert screamed, leaped out of the concealing brush, and charged.
The goblins shrieked and scattered before the angry white unicorn. Herbert followed the leader, rearing and striking with his front hooves, driving the goblin back into the trees. The rest of the goblins stopped at the edge of the clearing, waiting to see what their leader would do. With a wave of his arm, he gestured for them to return to the clearing and they advanced, wielding hatchets and swearing.
The moment the goblins had scrambled off his back, the black unicorn had lunged to his feet. Now he thundered to the center of the clearing and turned to face the other goblins.
After one last lunge at the goblin leader, Herbert spun around on his rear hoof and joined the black unicorn in the middle of the clearing, back to back, facing the circling goblins. The goblins darted forward to hack at necks and legs. Herbert and the black unicorn struck at them, sending some reeling while others fell to the ground until their fellow goblins dragged them away.
Stunned, Lamia Lou, Jak, and Tobi had remained in the trees, but when a goblin barely missed whacking Herbert with his hatchet, the lamia screamed, “Enough!” She slithered into the clearing, fangs bared, hissing loudly. The goblins saw her; they froze for a moment, then fled the clearing, screaming.
Jak hurried to make sure that Herbert and the black unicorn were uninjured. As the last goblin disappeared from sight, Tobi dropped out of the tree he’d climbed and followed Jak.
“Don’t worry about me,” Herbert was telling Lamia Lou when Jak arrived. “They didn’t even get close.”
“You are tho wonderful!” Lamia Lou told him with shining eyes. “I’ve never met anyone braver!”
“I have to thank you,” said the black unicorn, who had trotted to the edge of the clearing to make sure that the goblins were really gone. “I would have been in a real fix if you hadn’t . . . Whoa! Who is this lovely lady?”
The unicorn was ogling Lamia Lou in a way that Herbert obviously didn’t like. He snorted and lowered his horn at the other unicorn, stepping closer so that his rival had to back away. “This lovely lady is mine!” Herbert said. “Take one step toward her and I’ll skewer you where you stand.”
“Easy, boy, easy!” said the black unicorn, although he didn’t take his eyes off Lamia Lou. “You can’t blame a fellow for being interested.”
“You might want to try being a little more careful about the maiden you choose,” said Jak.
“Don’t I know it!” the black unicorn exclaimed. “I thought there was something off when I sniffed that girl, but there’s a shortage of maidens around, so I can’t afford to be too choosy. As for this lovely—”
“I told you to back off!” said Herbert.
“Sorry! I’d heard that the goblins started poaching unicorn horns the minute Titania sent her army to fight Oberon, but I didn’t expect to come across them so soon. However, if I’d known that getting tackled by a gang of goblins meant that I’d get to meet this lovely lady, I’d have—”
“All right, it’s time for us to go,” Herbert announced. Nudging Lamia Lou with his nose, he stepped between her and the black unicorn. “It was nice meeting you, but I have to tell you—stay away from my lady or our next meeting won’t be so friendly.”
“I understand,” said the black unicorn. “But if you two ever break up—”
Lamia Lou didn’t look back as Herbert herded her from the clearing, but Jak did, and he noticed that Herbert did as well. The black unicorn must have seen them, because he put on a mournful expression that made Herbert snort and walk faster.
They hadn’t gone far before the sun started to set. When Lamia Lou assured them that they still had miles to go, they began to look for a good place to sleep. It was Tobi who finally found a likely tree, and after eating some of the provisions that the lamias had packed for them, Jak and the raccoon goblin climbed into the branches and settled down for the night. Herbert had offered to stand guard first, so Lamia Lou curled up around a branch above his head on the other side of the tree. Jak couldn’t see them, but he could just make out the glint of Tobi’s eyes only a few branches away.
“Jak,” Tobi whispered. “One of my informants told me something about you
and Tamisin. He said that you two aren’t getting along so well anymore.”
Jak sighed. Of course Tobi had heard about it. Titania’s fairies had seen it for themselves and were probably telling everyone. “It’s true,” said Jak. “Everything was great when we first went back to the human world, but then things started to fall apart.”
“Did you forget her name or complain that she’d poisoned you with her cooking? That makes a girl real mad, especially if you do it when her whole family is there for dinner.”
“It wasn’t anything like that,” said Jak. “Tamisin wanted to come back to the land of the fey and got mad at me when I didn’t tell her that the gate behind my house was open. I would have told her, but it never occurred to me that she could go through cat-goblin territory. It wasn’t somewhere I would have gone, so I didn’t think it was safe for her, either. She kept trying to go through the gate behind our school. You know the one—it opens into Titania’s forest. It was always closed, though, but because Titania had placed a compulsion on her . . .”
A snuffling snort from Tobi’s branch made Jak raise his head to look at his friend. The little goblin was asleep, lying on his back with his mouth open. Jak wondered how long he’d been talking to himself.
He turned over, trying to get comfortable on the branch. He could hear Lamia Lou and Herbert talking in lowered voices. When he closed his eyes, he pictured Tamisin’s face, and wondered if she ever thought about him. He didn’t fall asleep until all of his companions were quiet and he had himself half convinced that Tamisin probably missed him as much as he missed her.
Chapter 11
It was morning when Tamisin woke to the sound of Dasras’s voice. She was disappointed to see that everything looked normal once again. Sighing, she leaned over the edge and said, “I’ll be right there.”
