Stinking Beauty

by Elizabeth A Reeves

  “It is stylish,” I agreed. “The dogs seem happy.”

  Gloriana nodded happily. “Yes, they do seem to enjoy all our outings. The carriage is spelled to weigh next to nothing, so it’s not like it’s a burden. They get to stretch their wings, and I appease my mother.”

  “Of course.” I smiled to myself, secretly marveling at the way so many fairies took their ease of practicing Magic for granted.

  I didn’t have that kind of luxury.

  The carriage itself had been designed to match Gloriana’s wings, no doubt by her ever-fashionable mother. It glittered with gold and silver. Even the plush of the seats was embroidered with golden and silver threads, with a swirling motif reminiscent of the pattern of her wings.

  “Your mother is very proud of you,” I commented. I tried to imagine my mother designing a custom carriage for me and found that that was too extreme for even my active imagination.

  Gloriana raised her eyebrows. There was speculation in her spectacular eyes.

  “Well,” I said awkwardly, “you know what a disaster I am. It’s not like I give many opportunities for my mother to be proud of me. She claims that I exist entirely to test her patience. And my father, well…”

  Gloriana wrinkled her nose in a friendly sort of way. “He has his studies,” she agreed. “I’m sure he’d proud of you in his own way.”

  “Mostly because I keep bringing home new pieces for him to study,” I said with a laugh. “It helps that I’m just as curious as he is. You should have seen his face when I brought him those glass shoes from that little Western Kingdom. Do you remember the place?”

  Gloriana nodded with a little shiver. “Odious politics, that place,” she said. “Beautiful music, though. The composers alone were worth the travel.”

  “The king seemed to like you,” I commented.

  Gloriana blushed and refused to respond.

  The king had been a lonely widower and blown away by Gloriana’s beauty and sweetness. If he had been a fairy, I was sure Gloriana would have pursued a more serious attachment, but humans lived such a short time… it was generally easier not to get involved too deeply.

  “Oh, look,” Gloriana said, leaning forward to peer ahead of us. “I can see Brunhild’s Keep. It always such a dynamic sort of place.”

  Brunhild had loved her drama, I admitted, as the great, black, stone structure came into sight. The towers pointed like skeletal fingers up towards the sky, some glittering like obsidian, others pewter and dull in comparison. The entire architecture of the place was unique, with large, arched windows, dark columns, and ancient trees looming in every direction. It looked as if it had broken out of the ground like some magnificent, ancient beetle god and the forest around it had reached out to embrace it.

  “I wonder what will happen to this place now?” Gloriana said sadly. “Without Brunhild to keep it up, I am afraid it will fall into disrepair.” Her face brightened so suddenly I was immediately suspicious.

  “You should move here,” she suggested, immediately confirming my worst fears. Gloriana was dangerous when she was scheming.

  “What?” I demanded.

  “You’ve been wanting to get out of the family complex,” Gloriana reminded me. “For years you have whined about having your own space to grow as a Fairy Godmother.”

  “I didn’t whine,” I protested. “I was just used to living on my own. Coming back to the family complex was just… anticlimactical.”

  And really, really depressing.

  Gloriana wasn’t completely wrong. I had wanted my own place from the moment I’d been forced to move home, but I didn’t even know how to make a start of claiming this place as my own. I asked Gloriana, sure that she would know.

  “If Brunhild hasn’t left it to someone specifically, you can apply with the council to claim the space. Or, you can buy it, if it is put on the market by the estate. The Keep is a little out of the way for most fairies, as you know, and it isn’t to everyone’s taste, so…”

  “You think I would have a good chance of being able to buy it?”

  “Or be rewarded it,” she said with a nod. “Of course, that would be more likely if you were able to figure out what happened to Princess Talia.”

  “And Brunhild. Right,” I agreed. “Right now, I don’t look too competent, do I?”

  Gloriana made a dismissive gesture. “Paintings don’t look like masterpieces when they are in the first stages. I have every confidence that you will set everything to rights.”

  Well, that made one of us.

  Chapter Five

  The doors of Brunhild’s Keep had been left open, which meant that Gloriana and I didn’t have to figure out where to find a key or if there was some sort of testing or passwords needed for admittance.

  I was aware of being watched, from the moment the greyhounds touched down outside of the castle. I glanced around and caught sight of a few watchers in the trees around us. At first, it was just a few ravens, hopping from tree to tree and croaking at our approach. Then the air seemed to just bleed full unkindnesses of ravens. Not that ravens were unkind, that was simply what a flock of ravens was called.

  They didn’t bother us at all, but I knew they were watching our every move.

  “We are here to solve Brunhild’s murder,” I called to them. “If you know anything about what happened to her, that would be most helpful.”

  The ravens seemed to hover for an instant, then congregate, muttering to each other and croaking until Gloriana and I had to cover our ears at the racket.

  Finally, a pair of particularly large ravens, nearly my height, though significantly shorter than Gloriana, landed in front of us on the stairs to the open doors.

  One of the ravens was shimmering with black iridescence glistening along his obsidian wings and fully aware of his charm. He cocked his head to one side and eyed me with cleverness in his glance.

  His companion was snow-white in color, though the feathers did not have the same sheen as his black friend. They were strangely muted, almost like they had been carved from deep snow. He had odd, blue eyes, nearly white they were so pale. I had the odd sensation that he was staring straight through me and was weighing my soul.

  I bowed in greeting, keeping my wand out of sight. That was partly so they wouldn’t feel threatened, but mostly so they wouldn’t take a liking to it and want to add it to their collections. Ravens were notoriously fond of shiny objects.

  “Brunhild,” croaked the black raven, in a voice that was surprisingly clear for coming out of a beak without moveable lips. I suspected he had to perform acrobatics with his mobile tongue to emulate the sounds of our language.

  I applauded the effort, particularly since I flubbed my own language so frequently. How did languages develop that tied up the tongues of those who tried to speak them?

  “Yes,” I said, bowing again. “Brunhild was murdered. They found her body yesterday, in the woods on the other side of Soluna. Do you know why she might have been there?”

  It was possibly a meaningless question, even in the ravens had an answer for us. Brunhild had been semi-retired, but she had still been active in her participation with the traditions and such all over the world. Her part in Princess Talia’s christening had been just one minor piece of all the work she did. Her death might have had nothing whatsoever to do with the dead girl in the tower.

  The white raven cocked his head. “Troubled,” he said. “Brunhild said something was wrong.”

  “Do you know what it was?” I asked.

  The ravens turned towards each other.

  “Talia,” they said at the same time.

  Well, that answered that.

  I swallowed, feeling my heart thrum uneasily in my chest. Had Brunhild died because she had known there was something wrong with Princess Talia? If so, why hadn’t she come directly to the council with her concerns?

  “Do you know what was bothering her about Princess Talia?” I asked.

  The ravens shook their heads.


  “Do you know who she intended to have take her place here at the Keep?” Gloriana interjected. “In case something happened to her?”

  I shot her a look. Finding me a new place to live was not an important part of our agenda.

  She ignored me entirely.

  “She liked a fairy,” the white raven said.

  The dark raven nodded in agreement. “The bumbler,” he said. “Papers in the castle. On her desk. New.”

  “She was worried,” the white raven added.

  That statement set my blood to racing again. Had Brunhild known that her time was nearly at an end? I hoped she had set her concerns to paper, even if she hadn’t chosen to take her worries to the council as she should have.

  Who was I to judge her for that? It wasn’t like I was taking any of the weird things I’d seen Magic do through the proper channels.

  Without her help, I didn’t feel like I had any chance of figuring out what was going on. Brunhild had all of the experience and knowledge that I lacked. It would help if she had, written on her desk in capital letters, the name of the killer complete with motive and means.

  The ravens bobbed their heads, and I bowed again as they opened their wings and flew back to their unkindness.

  “Bumbler?” Gloriana queried. “Do you suppose she meant you?”

  I rolled my eyes. “You do understand that we are not here to move me into a new house, right? Let alone a castle I could never possibly afford. We are investigating two murders.”

  “Bumbler?” Gloriana insisted, batting her beautiful eyes at me.

  “It’s possible,” I admitted. “We always liked each other, and she found my ineptitude hilarious. I don’t know any other fairy that would answer to that description, do you?”

  Gloriana pursed her lips. “Not off the top of my head. Take it as a back-handed compliment.”

  I sighed. “I’ll try. Now, how about we try to find Brunhild’s office and see about the welfare of the rest of her friends?”

  Gloriana shivered. “How about you go see about her friends, and I will search for her office? Not all of us are as comfortable with dragonkind as you are.”

  I shrugged. That sounded like a good bargain to me. Gloriana would have the chance to explore the Keep, while I would be able to check in with the few of Brunhild’s companions that might remember me.

  Despite Gloriana’s concerns about the dragonkind, it was the kelpies that needed the most careful handling. They had a tendency to drown people they didn’t like, or anyone they didn’t recognize.

  Or for fun, in the absence of other reasons.

  Three steps into the Keep and we realized that the door had been left open not by a friend, but by a foe.

  The entire Keep had been ransacked. Broken furniture and the heartbreak of broken-backed books bleeding pages across the floor assaulted our appalled eyes. A torch dropped on the floor of the Great Hall had attempted to burn up the space, but had given up after devouring a few irreplaceable tapestries that were hung on the walls and what looked like the remains of a table and several chairs. Miraculously, the fire appeared to have spread no further. Soot and smoke-stained the dark stones all around us. Everything was made all the more macabre by the broken light from the shattered stained-glass skylights above. It made it look as if the stones were stained with blood.

  Brunhild’s blood, I thought with a shudder.

  Gloriana stood stiffly as if she could not process such desecration. She bent down and picked up a page, torn and crushed, from the floor.

  “’… If we shadows have offended…’,” she murmured. She let the page drop from her fingers. It floated down like a broken feather. “This is terrible. It makes me want to weep.”

  I could already see the tears building in her eyes and threatening to spill across her shock-paled cheeks.

  “Who do you think would do such a thing?” I asked, wondering for a moment if the intruders were still within. My gut told me otherwise. The ravens would have warned us if there were strangers of any sort within the Keep. It may have been the intruders who had attracted such a large unkindness of ravens, to begin with.

  “I didn’t ask the right questions,” I murmured regretfully.

  I had wished on occasion that I could lie. I was a straight-forward sort of fairy. If I had been human, I would have just lied, but as a fairy… well, I wasn’t particularly good at talking in circles.

  At this moment, I wanted to lie to my cousin and tell her that everything would be fine, that nothing had been lost in this place that could not be recovered in time.

  But, in my heart, I knew that those were falsehoods, and so my tongue could not speak them.

  “At least stone does not burn,” Gloriana said with false brightness. “What era do you think spawned this furniture?”

  “I hope Brunhild’s friends were not harmed,” I spoke with alarm at the thought of those dragonkind damaged or harmed by the same malice that had struck their home.

  Kelpies, in particular, were not fond of fire, and I could sense none of the water-magic that I associated with their presence.

  The doors had been open, so hopefully, that meant they, at least, had been able to escape without harm.

  Gloriana made an uneasy whimper.

  “Why don’t you wait outside?” I suggested. “There’s no need for both of us to wander in these dark rooms. I know you do not care for Brunhild’s beasts.”

  If my cousin had a weakness, it was her fear of strange creatures that did not fit her views of fairylike beauty.

  “Thank you.” Gloriana left so quickly that her skirts whipped up a tiny cyclone of half-burned papers and ash.

  The damage could have been worse, I realize as I wandered deeper into Brunhild’s home. Most of the heavier pieces of furniture and art had been left untouched. It was only the lighter, movable pieces that had suffered the worst damage.

  I carefully stepped over the carcass of another broken book. The sight of it pained me. If I had time, I would have seen what I could do to repair it and its fallen comrades. Perhaps, I might be able to return at some point and see what I could do to bring order back to Brunhild’s possessions. It seemed the least I could do for a fallen friend.

  A soft scrabbling in the darkness caught my ears. I had wandered far from the main rooms and entered a space where I could scarcely see at all.

  “Hello?” I called softly. “I am Grace. I was a friend of sorts to Godmother Brunhild. I am here to see to the welfare of her companions.”

  The sound to my side was clearly the hiss of scales against stone. I smiled to myself. I recognized that sound. At least one of Brunhild’s special friends was here with me. With the disarray of the Keep, they had to be more frightened of me than I could be of them.

  “I am blooded to dragonkind,” I said, referring to the ceremony that permitted a fairy to trade favors with dragonkind. It was done by a free exchange of blood and allowed fairies to speak with dragons and vice versa. The blood I had traded had been from an ancient dragon, which allowed me to speak to most animals, as well as dragonkind. I had been honored by the exchange and puzzled that I had been selected by the Ancient One to make the trade.

  My family had seen it as a sign that I was coming into the familial fold of Magic. Sadly, that had not come to fruition. I remained awkward and ungifted in comparison to my antecedents.

  But that had been centuries ago.

  “I’m afraid the Brunhild was found dead this morning,” I continued, wincing at the bluntness of my words. I could not think of a way to cushion what had to be a devastating blow for her family. Scaled or not, that’s what they had been to her.

  We know, a voice made up of many voices whispered out of the shadows.

  “I grieve for her and for you,” I said simply, holding out my hands in a gesture of shared pain. “She was a brilliant woman, sharp and clever. I will miss her.”

  Brilliant eyes blinked out from the darkness surrounding me. They were of many different jewel tones—ruby re
d, emerald green, sapphire blue, amethyst purple… even shimmering opal-like mother-of-pearl winked out at me, studying me.

  “I am not a very good fairy,” I said, all-too-aware that I had little to offer. “If there is anything that I can do to assist you, I will do it. As long as it is within my power, I will.”

  You would swear to us so easily? A smoky voice whispered around me.

  “I would swear friendship,” I said quickly.

  The smoky voice laughed softly. And what sort of friendship can one like you offer us?

  I was very aware of the lack of wings on my back. That alone would warn them that I was inferior to the friend they had lost.

  “Bread when I have bread,” I said slowly, “shelter when I have shelter, water when I have water…”

  Treasure when you have gold? The voice grew sly.

  I laughed. “I have little treasure, I am afraid. But I have no need for treasure. You can see yourself that I’m not a creature of jewels and silks. I have no desire for those things. It is not in my nature.”

  The eyes around me winked out and I was afraid that I had offended Brunhild’s friends.

  The softest hissing echoed through the room. I knew that the dragonkind were speaking to each other, purposely leaving me out of the conversation. With the blood of an Ancient gifted to me, I could have forced an understanding of those whispers, but I felt everyone had the right to privacy. I would never force any creature to give me what it didn’t care to give. I would never compel any creature or person.

  The room brightened abruptly, so swiftly that I had to throw my arms up to protect my eyes from the sudden glare. I blinked back tears at the lights until my eyes were able to adjust to the change. I fought the urge to rub them, knowing that they would not help. The glare made it impossible to see for a long moment, but gradually the room cleared around me again.

  I had known that I was surrounded by dragons, but I had not begun to suspect the sheer numbers that watched me now. I could not put a number to them, there were so many at first glance.

  The room I had stepped into was much larger than I had expected. Fully four ballrooms would have fit with room to spare into this space. I could see chambers and corridors exiting the area, leading to more tunnels and open spaces.