by Gary J Darby
Vay stared at her sisters for a moment before shaking her head. “You knew this would happen. I warned you not to get too close to the dragons.”
“But they’re so wonderful, so loving,” Osa replied. “They’ve become dear friends. How could we not feel this way?”
“Yes, Vay,” Eskar retorted. “How could we not feel this way?”
“I feel awful just thinking about it,” Nadia responded. “Why, I haven’t felt this bad in at least an epoch. Ever since we mispronounced that enchantment and turned that little boy blue.”
“Oh, yes,” Osa replied, “that one really got away from us—cats playing fiddles, dogs laughing, dishes running around grabbing forks and spoons, not to mention—”
“Cows jumping over the moon,” Eskar added. “The Presiders were so mad at us.”
“Yes,” Osa nodded, “it took us almost half an epoch to get back in their good graces.”
“Such a sad time,” Nadia tsked-tsked, “sitting around, doing nothing.”
“So,” Vay asked slowly, “we take the dragons to Eternal Gardens tomorrow. What happens afterward?”
“What do you mean afterward?” Osa sniffed. “They’re gone, we’ll never see them again.”
“Never again,” Eskar repeated and sniffed.
“Ever,” Nadia added with a loud and long sniff before blowing her nose into her hanky.
Vay studied her sisters for a moment before she said, “You know, I didn’t realize we’d never see them again. That’s terrible. I suddenly feel very sick over the thought of losing our beloved dragons. Would you mind if I skip the ceremony? I don’t want to embarrass you, and besides you three are so much stronger than I.”
“Oh, of course, dear,” Osa replied.
“We understand,” Eskar nodded sympathetically, “you are so close to the dragons.”
“Yes,” Nadia added, “so close. No need for you to grow more ill.”
“Thank you,” Vay replied, “you are so understanding.”
She left her blubbering sisters and immediately flew to a place near the Eternal Gardens where she could secretly watch the comings and goings of the gods.
A streak of red announced the arrival of Merc and she quickly winged out to meet him. “Hail, Merc!” she called and bowed her head to him. “May I have a moment, m’lord?”
Merc stopped in place, the wings on his feet and shoulder blades keeping him hovering in one place. His crimson eyes narrowed as he stared at Vay, trying to place her. “I’m sorry, I see so many—who are you and what do you want? I’m swamped you know, keeping things straight in the cosmos for the Most Highs.”
“I am Vay, m’lord,” Vay answered, “one of the Fae.”
“Oh, yes, a fairy,” he sighed. “Now what is it and make it quick.”
“Yes, m’lord,” Vay replied and straightened. “M’lord, I am here to right a grave injustice.”
“Injustice? What injustice and what has that got to do with me? Injustice, miscarriages of justice, unjustness, villainy, crying shames, dirty deals, and so forth should go to the High Council and certainly not to me.”
“Of course, m’lord, only, this injustice was done to you. Everyone, and I do mean everyone, knows that you should be a Most High.”
Merc immediately stiffened, and his already red face turned a brilliant scarlet. “Fairy,” he growled, “you are on most dangerous ground here.”
“Yes, m’lord,” Vay replied, keeping her face and eyes averted in deference, “but if I didn’t truly believe that a grave injustice was done, and that I could help right the wrong, I wouldn’t be here to anger you, nor risk my celestial life.”
Merc studied Vay for a moment before he glanced in all directions, ensuring that no one was within listening distance. “Go on, fairy, but this had better not be a waste of my time, or—”
“No, m’lord, I assure you this is no waste of your time or mine.”
Vay lifted her eyes to meet Merc’s and spoke very softly. “I have a way for you to achieve your heart’s greatest desire. It must be done in secret and I require a certain something from you, but I assure you that once it is done, you will sit on a golden throne in the Parthenon.”
She paused to wing a little closer and whispered, “Perhaps even on the Heavenly Throne.”
Merc’s eyes grew round, and his little wings flapped so fast that he began to lift before he could slow them down. “You talk of—”
“M’lord, I am well aware of what I speak. But I, as you, have ambitions and desires beyond my current state. We can both help each other achieve our aspirations. You, on your throne, and I, well, all I want is my own little world where I would rule over all.”
“You would give up your magic?”
“Oh, no,” she hastened to answer. “No, that I keep. But I have no desire flitting here and there performing banal magic amongst the cosmos. I mean, once you’ve turned one prince into a frog, how exciting is the second?
“I want real power. I want to control the elements, the air, the sky, wind and wave. I want to lift up mountains and carve out valleys. I want to sweep the skies with storms of my making, churn the seas with towering waves, and whisk away fall leaves with just a puff of my breath.”
Her breath came hard and fast. “Most of all, I want control over people’s lives. I want to play the games you gods do and all I’m asking is that I get to do it on my own, puny, small, teensy-weensy, little world.”
Merc ran a hand over his sharp chin, his red eyes studying her face. “I really should report you to Zule and have you cast down to the nether regions, or perhaps even to the Lost Forest.”
Vay smiled thinly and nodded. “Yes, you really should, but if you do, with me goes the one chance in all the eternities that you’ll ever sit on a golden throne.”
Merc’s eyes narrowed and once again he glanced around to see if anyone was nearby, watching or listening to their conversation. Seeing no one, he said, “All right, just how are you going to raise me to a High Throne?”
Vay came a bit closer and whispered, “Have you ever heard of dragons?”
From atop the Eternal Gardens, Zule looked down upon the cosmos. Ever in motion, filled with chaos and tumult, it took constant attention by the gods but right now, Zule focused his attention on one small spot. A slight frown played about Zule’s face. “A shrewd guess on your part that of everyone, she would approach Merc.”
“Thank you, Sire,” Lys returned, “but there was little conjecture on my part. His disappointment and vanity are like an approaching thundercloud. Both are dark and easy to see.”
“Yes,” Zule replied, nodding his head, “and her ambition grows whereas his is where it’s always been. There is little guessing as to what she offers—”
“And little speculation as to what she needs to carry out her plan,” Lys replied.
“No doubt,” Zule rumbled bringing a hand up to run his fingers through his full beard, “and once she has what she needs, it will only be a matter of time before we know who is with me and who is against.”
“Indeed, Sire.”
“You will stand guard at the Fountain of Life?”
“Yes, Sire. I will ensure that they have no trouble in acquiring the elixir.”
Zule sighed deep and long, his breath ruffling the whiskers around his mouth. “Troubled, Sire?”
“How I dislike playing these conspiratorial games. They are unseemly, beneath my dignity.”
“But unfortunately, necessary at times, Sire.”
“Yes,” Zule growls. “So it would seem.”
He turned away, saying over his shoulder. “Report back when they acquire the elixir.”
“Of course, Sire,” Lys replied, and murmured under his breath. “And I suspect that will be soon enough with those two.”
That very night, while the gods slumbered, Merc and Vay stole through the Eternal Gardens, swiftly moving from shadow to shadow. Just in case some celestial being was out for a late-night stroll, Merc kept them away from the usu
al pathways such as the Beaten Path and a Road Less Traveled, that led to the Fountain of Life.
As they approached the ring of tall Weeping Willows that surrounded the fountain, Merc brought them to a halt. Slowly, they pushed aside the long sweeping branches and peered past the limbs. Sitting inside a broad, rounded, ornate bowl set in the ground, the Fountain of Life gushed its life-giving elixir upward in a tall, bubbling column.
The golden liquid glowed with a soft, mellow radiance that filled the air. However, surrounding the gurgling pillar, sparkles flashed into life. More numerous than the stars it seemed, the flickers announced the birth of some creature in the cosmos. Then, they dimmed, floated down, and added their glow to the fountain’s.
Placing a hand on Vay’s shoulder to hold her in place, Merc cautiously poked his head through the willow’s branches, looking for the Sentinel of Life who was always on guard and would turn back any who approached the fountain for only The Presiders could touch the fountain or its elixir.
Merc’s eyes widened just a bit when he sighted the tall, lightly armored guard who stood with his back to him. Merc pulled Vay close to him and pointed. Vay nodded, pushed herself a bit more forward, held out her scepter, and whispered,
Thine eyes grow heavy, thine limbs so weak,
Thine hands for a pillow under thy cheek,
A time to wake, a time to sleep,
Now close thine eyes and dream so deep!
The sentinel yawned, stretched his arms upward, placed his lance on the ground, curled up next to it, and with his hands under one cheek was soon snoring.
Merc and Vay rushed through the last willow branches to the shimmering fountain. From beneath her hooded cloak, Vay pulled out a large vase. Merc’s eyes rose at the size of the urn.
“You never said you were going to take that much!” he hissed.
“That’s right,” Vay smoothly answered as she lowered her vase toward the radiant liquid. “I only said I needed elixir, not how much.”
Merc’s hand shot out, stopping Vay from dipping her vase into the swirling water. “The Presiders will know how much is missing!”
Vay shrugged. “Perhaps. But they will never know who took it, will they?”
“But if they find out!” Merc gurgled, his face turning a ruddy red.
Vay shrugged off his hand. “You should have thought about that earlier,” she snapped and dipped her urn into the elixir.
Merc practically danced from one foot to the other as Vay held her vase under the water, holding it by one handle. “Hurry!” he gasped, wildly looking around, his face holding a terrified expression as if he expected the sentinel to awaken at any moment and shout the alarm.
“You should know,” Vay replied, clearly exasperated with her companion, “that the Elixir of Life only flows so fast and no faster.”
Merc kept hopping back and forth, continually peering through the willow branches to see if anyone was coming or checking on the guard to ensure he was still asleep. “How long will he slumber?” Merc asked.
“For as long as I say,” Vay replied.
At last, the vase was full and Vay pulled it from the liquid. She glanced up at Merc with arched eyebrows. “Your part?”
Merc reached into his ruby-red vest but hesitated. Vay sighed and said, “I take it you don’t want your throne?”
She shrugged and started to tilt the vase toward the swirling waters. “Guess I’ll have to pour this back. Sad, we’re so close to achieving our greatest dreams.”
“Wait!” Merc hissed and slowly drew out a small, black vial.
He held it out. “Here.”
“Dipped from the center of the River Styx? Entirely pure and not touched by mortal death yet?” Vay demanded.
“Yes,” he hissed, “though I had to make a bunch of promises to Hades before he would give it to me.”
“Just as long as you keep your promise to me,” Vay growled, “I don’t care what other promises you make.”
She quickly capped her urn, took the vial from Merc and slipped both inside her cloak. Their task finished, she and Merc rushed through the sinewy limbs. Vay stopped just long enough to turn back toward the sleeping sentinel, snap her fingers, and command, “Awaken!”
With that, the two sped away. At the fountain, the guard pushed himself up on one elbow, his eyes on the willow limbs that swayed back and forth from Vay and Merc’s hurried departure. He smiled grimly, rose, picked up the lance and muttered, “As I said, Sire, it will indeed be soon enough that I make my report.”
Vay and Merc rushed through the Eternal Gardens as swiftly as they could and hoped that they didn’t stumble across some god or goddess wandering about because they couldn’t sleep. After all, gods have so much worry on their mind.
Overhead, the stars shone brightly in Night’s Curtain casting shadowy light across the god’s home but to Vay’s and Merc’s good fortune, they encountered no one and both sped down the Glory Stairs before leaping into a bank of billowing, dark clouds.
Vay’s breath came sharp and quick. “I don’t think we were seen.”
“No,” Merc agreed, slowing his breath and his little wings. “What next?”
Vay bit down on her lip as a smile spread across her face. “Now, you go about your business and I shall be about mine. I’ll let you know when I’m ready, then it will be up to you to gather those you can count on.”
Merc swallowed hard. “This means war, you know.”
“War?” Vay shook her head. “Hardly. Once Zule and the others see the army you command, they’ll be happy to give us what we want instead of a battle that could well destroy their beloved cosmos.”
Merc lowered his gaze to his feet. “I don’t know fairy, I’m beginning to think that—”
“You don’t want to be a Most High God?”
“Well, yes,” Merc swallowed again, “I mean no, I do want to be a Most High, it’s just that—”
“The thought of having to fight for what you want scares you?”
Merc ran his tongue over dry lips, stammered, “I’m thinking that spending an epoch chained in the netherworlds like the Titans is giving me second, even third thoughts, yes.”
“Then I suggest you forget that thought and instead dwell on the idea of what it’s going to be like being a Most High.”
Merc still hesitated so Vay pressed. “I can do this without you, you know. But I assure you that if I win through, you will not share in the spoils.”
Merc’s face grew ruddy red in anger. “I can still report you to Zule—”
Vay’s harsh laugh stopped him midsentence. “Oh, really? And just how are you going to explain how I made my way through the Eternal Gardens to the fountain? The path is only known to a god, not to a lowly fairy such as myself.”
The god’s messenger stiffened for a moment, his fists clenched in anger before his shoulders slumped. Vay had spun her web and he felt her snare tighten around him choking off any hope of escape.
Vay’s lips turned up in a sneer. “That’s right, Merc. Since you can’t kill me, you have one of two choices. You either stand with me or go slink to some hole somewhere and pull it in after you for your days as a god will be over. However, if you stand with me . . .”
She let your voice trail off, letting the weight of the moment hang heavy on her worried companion.
He nodded to her, saying in a small voice, “I’ll wait for word from you.”
“Excellent,” she hissed. “Just remember, go about your business as usual, but since you go to all corners of the cosmos, start to identify those who you think would be willing to join our side when the time comes.”
“Of course,” Merc sighed.
“And remember,” Vay warned, “business as usual. All is well in the cosmos, right?”
“Right,” Merc agreed, “all is well in the cosmos.”
With that, Vay sped away, leaving a hole in the roiling clouds that was quickly filled in as if it had never been. Merc stared for a long time at where Vay disappeared be
fore muttering to himself, “This is really Zule’s and the other Presider’s fault, not mine. I wouldn’t be in this awful situation if they had just done the right thing the first time.”
He brought a clenched fist up. “But since they didn’t, this will correct the wrong and everyone will agree that I had the right to do this.”
With a smug smile, he flitted away to go about his duties as usual, only, delivering the god’s messages would be second to his real business: gathering comrades for a cosmic revolt.
Vay swooped down to the Lost Forest, gathered her hidden items, and then flew to the farthest corner of the cosmos, a place so far away from the Center of Everything that its light barely touched the bleak orb that wandered between two dim, tiny stars.
But that was the way she wanted it—to be so distant from The Center and Fairyland that not only would no one know where she was or what she was up to, but it would take an eon, or more, just to find her.
By then, she hoped it would be too late.
It didn’t take her long to erect her dark castle, a replica of sorts of the fairies celestial castle in Fairyland. Only, where that castle had gleaming silver bricks to make up its four sides, merry pennants waving from the rounded turrets, fluttering birds and unicorns flying through the windows, lovely musical chimes and glockenspiels that soft breezes played upon, Vay’s castle had none of those.
It was forbidding and drab, with only one small window in each of the four sides, no pennants, no birds, and decidedly no musical chimes. Its one high, dark turret was where Vay practiced her evil art until she felt her power sufficiently grown to do alone what it had taken the combined power of four fairies before—to bring forth dragons.
Not just any dragons. No, Vay intended to bring forth an army of dragons and to lead this vast legion of dragons with Vay as its sky rider would be a mighty, mystical golden dragon, imbued with power and magic.
The time came, and all was ready. Vay slowly stirred her concoction. Once again, she precisely measured and added all the same ingredients as before, with two exceptions.
The first was Merc’s black vial. She carefully added one tiny drop of the River Styx to the mixture causing the concoction to fizz and boil before it went back to simmering.
