Foxglove Page 8

  “You’ll be able to visit after you learn to fly,” Kidhe said.

  Maddie said, “Learn to fly?”

  “Sure. Why else would they send you to me? You’d still be on our side of the Veil, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy it.”

  “But wouldn’t I not be able to see anything?” said Maddie.

  Kidhe clapped his hands together in front of her and said, “Think of it like a one-way mirror. You can see and hear them, but they can’t see or hear us. It takes a little getting used to, but you could still catch a movie or go to a baseball game or get a hot dog. You know, regular stuff.”

  “Get a hot dog?” said Maddie.

  “Well, steal a hot dog. Not exactly the moral thing to do, but if you really wanted one…”

  The staff began to point at the horizon, where a flock of birds emerged from the light.

  “Here they come,” Kidhe said.

  Maddie squinted into the brightness as the birds approached. On the deck, a dozen faeries grabbed lengths of rope, blankets, and poles with loops of string on the ends. Kidhe took up a long cord and slung it around his shoulder.

  “Look sharp,” he said, addressing the group. “This is Theresa’s patrol, and they’ve been out for 18 days. The pilots will be tired, so don’t expect much help handling the birds. This one’s on us.”

  Maddie kept her eyes on the birds. “Is that a long time? 18 days?”

  “Very long,” Kidhe said. Then he leaned down and whispered to her. “Theresa’s convinced the attack on you was a prelude. With the centennial around the corner, she thought it would be a good idea to take extra precautions. The last thing we need is for another innocent civilian to get ambushed in the woods.” He leaned back up. “It’s a shame, really. I was going to go camping next weekend.”

  The birds started to circle the top deck. Kidhe grabbed a blanket and called out to the others. “Get ready!”

  The faeries tensed, knuckles cracking around their tools. Maddie braced herself as the flock swooped in.

  “You’ll be fine,” Kidhe said, taking her by the wrist. “Just stay close and do as I do.”

  The first birds alighted on the deck, and the faeries scrambled. Maddie and Kidhe sprinted after them. The faeries caught the harnesses as the pilots dismounted, taking the reins before throwing blankets over the animals’ heads to keep them calm while they were escorted inside. Maddie jogged to a halt behind Kidhe, bewildered by the flurry of activity.

  “It’s alright,” he said, reaching out to take her hand. He led her to a bird. “Do you want to hold him or throw the blanket?”

  “I guess I’ll hold him,” she replied nervously. She didn’t want to throw the blanket and miss.

  The pilot unstrapped herself and vaulted out of the saddle, landing on the deck in front of Maddie. She thrust the reins into her hands and staggered away with a tired nod. Maddie’s eyes followed the reins up to the knotted harness and the enormous bird to which it was attached.

  She held on tight.

  The animal chirped and tossed its head, yanking Maddie six feet into the air. She shut her eyes, screamed, and held on for dear, sweet, precious life. A moment later she felt a pair of arms clamp around her legs as Kidhe ran around from the bird’s front and jumped, pulling her down.

  “Stay calm,” he said.

  Maddie opened her eyes. “Calm?”

  “And pull down. Gentle but firm.”

  Maddie leaned down, putting her weight into her grip as she hung onto the rope. The bird hunkered down onto the deck and she took a deep breath.

  Kidhe moved around beside its head. “You’re doing fine. Just keep him steady.”

  “How?”

  “Talk to him.”

  He unslung the rope from his arm and swept it around the bird’s neck. The animal flicked its head away.

  Maddie inched in alongside the bird and stroked its feathers, murmuring. “Pretty bird. Pretty bird.”

  “Pretty bird!” it answered.

  Maddie jumped back. The bird chirped and fluttered its wings.

  “Hold him!” Kidhe said.

  “But it’s talking!”

  He reached up and grabbed the bird’s harness, grunting as he struggled to hold it. “Yeah, the starlings do that. Help me, please.”

  Maddie pulled down on the rope again, and Kidhe threw the blanket over its head. The bird calmed down and Kidhe handed the rope off to a pair of attendants who took the animal inside.

  “See?” he said, dusting himself off. “Easy.”

  “You think that was easy?!” Maddie shouted.

  “Well, easy for a start. You should see the big birds.”

  Maddie hit him in the shoulder. “Jerk.”

  It took almost an hour to get all the birds tucked away in their stalls. Other faeries took over the process of brushing and feeding them. When it was over, the sun was already down and Maddie felt like she’d just finished a tug-of-war match with an Olympic wrestling team. She went to the edge of the roof and flopped down on the deck to cool off.

  The last pilot walked over with Kidhe, and Maddie stared up at her, framed against the sky. The moonlight fell across her like a monument in a courtyard. Her shoulders were square, wrapped in the folded steel of a heavy breastplate etched with a pattern of long, thin flowers. Carved muscles held up a round metal shield in her right hand and an eight-foot spear in her left. A long, thick braid of silken black hair, woven through with bright red ribbon, hung down to her ankles.

  She bent over at the waist until her face was right over Maddie’s.

  “First day?” she asked.

  Maddie tried to sit up, but her body was limp with fatigue. The woman set her gear aside. Taking her by the shoulders, she hefted Maddie up like a bag of groceries.

  “I’m Theresa,” she said, shaking her hand as she steadied Maddie’s exhausted body. “You must be Madeline. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

  Maddie wobbled on her feet. “I’m honored.”

  “You look a little worse for the wear.”

  “Kill me,” Maddie said, groaning.

  “I don’t think I can do that. You’re under the queen’s protection.”

  Maddie waved a hand at Kidhe. “Then kill him instead.”

  “That would be ironic,” Theresa said, supporting Maddie by the shoulder as she steered her back to the lift.

  “Why?” Maddie asked.

  “Well, think about it,” the princess said. “Saving someone’s life only to have them order your execution? It’s pretty funny.”

  Maddie tripped, and Theresa caught her.

  “Kidhe…” she blurted out. “Saved me?”

  The princess looked back at Kidhe and then to Maddie. “You mean he didn’t tell you?”

  Civilized People

  “Look out!”

  Morrow jumped back, pressing himself against the tree as an enormous produce cart rolled past, drawn by a team of brown rats. The driver waved apologetically but made no effort to slow down as she cracked her whip and carried on up the ramp.

  Morrow grumbled as he straightened his new long hair and resumed his climb up the spiraling slope. With all their prosperity and resources, he would have thought the faeries of Amaranth would have put in an elevator.

  He looked up the ramp. After walking for more than an hour, he was finally nearing the top. The sounds of the market clattered in his ears, and shouts of local merchants filled the air with promises of fine produce and over-the-top savings. Morrow wanted to wretch. These people didn’t know how good they had it. Even the poorest among them could count on at least one reasonable meal a day, some kind of work, and the shelter of the branches over their heads. There were those in the Erlkin catacombs that barely managed a blanket and a few morsels of rotten bread.

  A pair of city watchmen in polished breastplates waved him through as he neared the top of the ramp. Morrow smiled as he passed, a gesture that drew a coy blush from one of them. It seemed his mistress’s potion was effe
ctive. This was probably the closest anyone of his kind had been to the faerie city in two decades, and he was being welcomed with open arms.

  The ramp emerged into a broad market, three times the length of a human football field. The roar of the crowd was matched only by the complaints of the animals and the banging of tools. Morrow gritted his teeth, tightened his grip on the strap of his pack, and marched into the throng.

  The people pushed and shoved. Morrow immediately longed for the cities of his childhood, where the nights were long, the music was soft, and the voice of every person was but a whisper to the waiting ear. It sickened him that, more and more, his people were beginning to resemble these crass faeries, scrambling to accumulate wealth as they shouted at each other for attention. The indignity of it soured his stomach as he made his way to the edge of the market in hopes of finding a little room to breathe.

  A woman in a leather apron shoved a bundle of arrows into his face.

  “Fine oak!” she shouted. “Guaranteed to fly true! Only five branches!”

  “No, thank you,” Morrow replied.

  “Fresh fruit!”

  Morrow felt a shove as a passer-by knocked him into the next stand. The man behind it held out an apple.

  “Just picked this morning,” he said, taking a deep breath in through his nose. “You can practically taste it. Half a dozen for three leaves. What do you say?”

  Morrow waved him off. “I’m fine, thank you.”

  He pushed forward, shouldering his way through a pack of faeries shouting orders at a baker across a wooden table.

  “Sugar rolls! Fruit tarts! Fresh-baked bread!”

  “Two of the walnut loaves, please!”

  “I need a dozen donuts!”

  Morrow clamped his hands over his ears and stumbled ahead. A hand emerged from the crowd and closed around his shirt, pulling him out of the crowd and into the middle of the street. He found himself standing in front of a brown-haired man in worn denim jeans.

  “Are you alright?” the man asked.

  Morrow took a moment to gather himself before speaking. “Yes, thank you.”

  “Not used to the crowds?”

  Morrow looked the man over. His sunny expression and soft features put him in his early twenties, and the satchel over his shoulder, not to mention the state of his hair and clothing, marked him as a messenger, or possibly a vagrant.

  “Something like that,” Morrow said.

  The man tightened a rope around his waist. “Well, you’ll want to keep to the middle of the market. The crowds are thicker the closer you get to the shops, okay?”

  Morrow glanced around. He was right. The market was full to bursting, and there was no sense of order to the traffic, but in the middle of the broad street, the vehicles and people were at least moving, jostling against each other like fish in a crowded stream. The man began to walk away.

  “Wait!” Morrow shouted, digging in his pockets as he ran to catch up with him. “Do you know this place?”

  He fetched out the slip of paper Gwynedd had given him.

  The man looked at it and smiled as they walked. “The Triple-C, eh? Looking for some human food?”

  “Looking for a job, actually,” Morrow said, folding the paper and putting it away. “I used to live in downtown. With the festival coming up, I was hoping there might be an opening.”

  “You don’t look like a city faerie.”

  Morrow examined his clothes. “You mean my outfit? This is just for the road. I thought I would travel light.”

  “You mean you’re broke,” the man said.

  Morrow adjusted his pack and conceded with a shrug. “Almost. My parents didn’t leave me much when they passed. Now that they’re gone…” He allowed the words to hang for a moment before he finished. “I just thought it was time for a change.”

  “And you think the owner’s just going to hire you off the street? No experience? They work in Chicago, you know. That’s Erlkin territory. What if you get kidnapped? Or killed?”

  Morrow glared. This man was becoming annoying. “Hey! I can handle the Erlkin. I told you, I’ve lived in Chicago my whole life.”

  “Is that so?”

  “It is! Now, can you tell me where the Triple-C is or can’t you?”

  The man turned and crossed his arms, pointing a thumb back over his shoulder. A tall red and white sign with lettering in the style of a human fast food chain marked the front of the Cook County Caravan.

  “You’re here,” he said. “I’m Leoh, the owner.”

  Morrow’s shoulders dropped. “Well, shit.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “I guess that was my interview.”

  “Only one question left.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “You put ketchup on a hot dog?”

  Morrow had never eaten a hot dog in his life. He took a guess. “No?”

  Leoh extended a hand. “You’re hired. What’s your name?”

  Morrow took it and answered, “Moira.”

  Warrior Princess

  “You’re too modest, captain,” Theresa said, leading them through the palace. “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything!”

  Maddie glanced back at Kidhe. “Me either.”

  “The princess did most of the work,” he said, starting to blush. He looked away and covered his face with his hand.

  Theresa cackled with glee. “Don’t be fooled. The crazy bastard dove right in when he saw you, and by the time the rest of us got there, it was almost over. Bless his faint little heart. I would have told you right away. Hell of an ice breaker.”

  Maddie turned around and walked backwards, facing Kidhe. “Is that true?”

  His face turned greener than a granny smith apple.

  “They mostly ran away…” he said.

  Theresa opened a door, revealing a steep staircase, and began to climb. “Well, you can tell her all about it at dinner. Mom’s hosting a quiet get together for the ambassadors. The early arrivals, anyway. They’re all friends, and she would want you to meet them.”

  “But, but…” Maddie stammered. “Aren’t there rules for that sort of thing?”

  “What sort of thing?”

  “You know, state dinners and stuff. I mean, look at us. We’re a mess!”

  Theresa glanced back over her shoulder. “It’s not a state dinner. More like a family meeting, and we’ve got plenty of time to clean up and get dressed. Relax. You’ll be my guests.”

  The narrow stairs spiraled upwards until they came to a modest, wooden door.

  Theresa opened it and led them inside. “Here we are.”

  Maddie’s mouth fell open. They were standing on a landing halfway up a wall, suspended in a hollow column of smooth, carved wood. Stairs swept and spiraled throughout the space, riding the walls and stretching across the air like the fibers of a spider’s web.

  Deep alcoves dug into the wood to form rooms. Maddie could see a dining area, a kitchen, and a study from where she stood, but there were dozens of other chambers, as well as passages leading out. Below, the stairs landed in a cramped sitting area. Couches, piled high with thick cushions, circled a cluster of low tables beside a stone fireplace. A hanging log set with fist-size clusters of glowing orange fungus filled the room with light. And of course, there wasn’t a railing in sight.

  “This way,” Theresa said, leaping from the platform to land on one of the flying staircases a dozen feet below.

  Maddie looked over the edge. “We jump?”

  “Or you can walk around,” Theresa said.

  Maddie chickened out and followed a roundabout route to catch up with her.

  “The men’s washroom is that way,” Theresa said, pointing to a nearby passage. It was dark and turned sharply after a few feet. “Kidhe, there should be a spare robe in the closet. If you lay out your clothes, we’ll have them laundered while we bathe. Maddie, you can follow me.”

  Kidhe bowed low and disappeared down the corridor, casting a nervous glance back at Ma
ddie. She shrugged at him as he vanished around the corner.

  The princess led Maddie down another flight of stairs and into a hall that ended in her bedroom. Maddie looked around as Theresa shut the door behind them. It was smaller than she expected, not much larger than her own quarters. Roughly hewn depictions of wild animals and flowers covered the walls, and in the spaces between, iron hooks held up the glinting steel of swords, daggers, and a dozen other weapons on display. Furs covered the bed, and there was a desk beside it, stacked with papers.

  The princess ditched her saddlebags and let them fall to the floor. “You’ll have to forgive the mess,” she said, hanging up her spear. “The centennial review is coming up.”

  Maddie drifted to the wall and ran a finger along the hilt of a long sword. The leather was worn and soft with oil.

  “Kidhe told me about it,” she said. “He said there might be a war.”

  The princess waved the comment away and tossed her shield on the bed. “That’s not going to happen. Amaranth is doing fine, and we’re pulling out all the stops to make sure our visitors have a good time.” She went to the desk and started leafing through the papers. “Of course, that hasn’t stopped every lord and diplomat from here to Moscow from going absolutely crazy. Everyone thinks my mother is going to retire. Do you know how many marriage proposals I get a month now? It’s maddening. Consider yourself lucky your culture left all that business behind.” She set the letters down and pointed to a door partly hidden by a green curtain. “The bathroom is this way.”

  Maddie was expecting another misty spa with smooth stones and aromatherapy candles, but those things didn’t really fit the princess’s personality. The tub took up the whole room, barely leaving space for a trunk beside it, filled with bottles of shampoo, washcloths, and hefty blocks of soap. Used towels covered the floor. Theresa picked them up quickly and threw them into a hamper in the corner. Her breastplate clattered to the floor as she began to undress. Scars cut across her skin from head to toe.