by E. D. Baker
And then the music began and Tamisin no longer had time to think. Titania took a dozen steps, her movements so graceful that she seemed to float above the grass. Then the handmaidens followed her, copying her movements like shadows in a brightly lit room. When they turned to Tamisin, she knew that they expected her to do the same. She tried her best. Following Titania’s lead, they danced across the ring, the others as light as butterflies while Tamisin was always one step behind. It wasn’t until they reached a patch of moonlight that her dancing began to change. It was a full moon that night, and it affected her just as it had back in the human world. A few more steps and she’d lost herself to the dance, imagining herself in a world that was neither fey nor human, a world that reflected both, as well as much that was uniquely hers. She was so caught up in the dance that she never noticed the handmaidens leaving the ring, nor when Titania left a moment later.
Tamisin danced as she had for so many nights, only this time something different happened. She twirled, and as she twirled, her wings opened behind her like buds unfurling into beautiful flowers. No longer wet or limp when they emerged, her wings were glorious from the moment the air touched them. And here in the land of the fey where magic was as common as moonlight, Tamisin’s wings truly blossomed. Where her wings had seemed large in her human home, here they were twice as big. Their color was more brilliant as well, the blues more vivid and the violets richer. Unlike normal fairy wings that never changed hue from the day the fairy was born, Tamisin’s wings shimmered as she moved, the colors rippling across them in silver-edged sparkles. As graceful and as fluid as the dance itself, her wings moved with her, enhancing her dance and enthralling her audience.
Tamisin would have danced all night if a cloud hadn’t passed in front of the moon. As the light in the ring dimmed, she paused and for the first time realized that she had been dancing by herself. She glanced up, suddenly self-conscious, only to see the wonder in the fairies’ eyes. The faces blurred together as she looked from one to the next, hoping to see Jak. He wasn’t there, but at least now she felt as if the fairies might actually like her, even if it was just for a moment.
“Well done!” said Titania, and at that all the fairies cheered, a rousing sound that made Tamisin smile.
As the music struck up a lighter chord, the fairies outside the ring began to enter, some to congratulate her, others to dance the next dance. She saw Tobi looking sad as he kept his distance, but still no Jak. Although she hadn’t felt tired while she was dancing, Tamisin was exhausted now and wanted nothing more than to find a seat and something cool to drink. Even so, she couldn’t help but look through the crowd as she left the ring, wondering why Jak hadn’t come to the dance. It wasn’t like him to break a promise. Tobi couldn’t be right, but if he wasn’t, where was Jak? She couldn’t imagine what might have happened to him. She was about to ask one of the guards to help her look for him when a goblin woman approached her.
“Your Highness,” said the woman. “Might I have a word with you? It’s of a personal nature.” Glancing from Tamisin to the shadowy forest beyond the ring, the woman hinted at the need for privacy.
Tamisin hesitated, but only for a moment. The woman had a sweet face with the green eyes of a cat and the soft white hair of a grandmother. Dressed in the pastels of Titania’s handmaidens, she looked like the kind of person Tamisin could trust. Although she didn’t recall having seen the woman before, so much had been going on over the short time that she and Jak had been there that she was sure she had seen only a fraction of her mother’s attendants. With a wave of her hand, Tamisin told the guard that she was all right and followed the woman into the woods.
“It’s about Jak,” the woman said once they were alone. “He’s gone back to see his uncle.”
“Why would he go without telling me?” asked Tamisin.
“He didn’t want to, but he was called away. His uncle is furious with him because the boy defied him by coming here.”
“But it wasn’t his fault,” Tamisin said. “He came only because I asked him to.” She felt awful now. Not only had she been angry with Jak for something he didn’t do, but he was in trouble for something she’d asked him to do.
“I’m sure you’re right, Princess, but Jak’s uncle, Targin, is awfully stubborn. The goblin is known for his temper, so there’s no saying what he might do to Jak unless …”
“Unless what?”
“Unless someone intercedes with his uncle. It would have to be someone who cares about Jak enough to travel to his uncle’s den and talk some sense into the goblin. I would do it myself, only I doubt Targin would listen to me.”
“I could go,” said Tamisin, “but Titania thinks that the goblins want to use me against her. Wouldn’t I be putting myself in their hands so they could do just that?”
“Your mother has been misinformed,” the woman said. “Someone would have to be terribly foolish to do something that would incur her wrath. Targin may be many things, but no one has ever called him foolish. They say that humans are capable of great loyalty and compassion. However, if you’d rather stay here where you feel safe …”
“No,” said Tamisin. “I’m not going to let Jak bear the consequences for something I made him do. Can you tell me how to get there?”
“I’ll do better than that. I’ll take you myself. I know a shortcut that will get you there safely in no time at all. We can leave right now if you’d like.”
“Why do you care so much about Jak?” Tamisin asked, still not sure if she should trust the woman.
“Because I’m his great-aunt, Lurinda. His grandmother is my sister. Surely the dear boy has mentioned me to you?”
“He didn’t tell me much,” Tamisin said, trying to remember if he’d mentioned his aunt’s name at all. She glanced down at her delicate gown and slippers. “Shouldn’t I change my clothes before we go?”
“There isn’t time,” said the woman. “If we don’t get there soon, it may be too late.”
“But my mother…”
“If we take the shortcut we can be there and back before anyone knows you’re gone. Trust me, this is the best way.”
At first the light of the moon was enough to let them pick a route through the forest, but when they reached an older, less-cared-for section where the trees met overhead, preventing the light from reaching the ground, the woman took a handful of dust from her bag and blew on it. Light flared, allowing Tamisin to see the roots that would have tripped her and the branches that would have blocked her way.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“We’re almost there,” the woman said.
Tamisin was beginning to have doubts when they stepped between two trees and a pale light shimmered around her. A chill caused goose bumps to prickle her arms, then suddenly they were in full daylight with the summer sun warming her skin. Tamisin squeezed her eyes shut as the bright light made her eyes tear. “What just happened?” she asked. Peeking through her lashes, she turned to look behind her. The fairy forest was gone, replaced by a meadow awash with wildflowers. Tamisin glanced up at the sound of a jet flying high overhead. Somewhere a radio was playing music with a lively beat. It was obvious that they were no longer in the land of the fey. It took her a moment before she recognized the field where she had picked flowers the day she went on a picnic with Jak.
“It’s the shortcut,” the woman said. “Follow me.”
They passed the waterfall where Tamisin and Jak had had their picnic, then hiked through the woods, forsaking the path that ran alongside the stream. Cutting through a backyard, they reached a street lined with sycamore trees. A woman glanced up from weeding her garden while a little girl playing hopscotch on the sidewalk pointed at Tamisin and said, “Look! It’s Cinderella!”
“How can it be summer here?” Tamisin asked Lurinda as they crossed another street. “Jak and I have been gone only a few days and it was autumn when we left.”
“Didn’t Jak tell you that time passes differently here than it d
oes in the land of the fey? It never passes at the same rate from one day to the next, which is why we have to hurry. Who knows how long we’ll have been gone while Targin decides Jak’s fate?”
“Where are we going now?” asked Tamisin.
The street was vaguely familiar with its meticulously maintained older homes. A truck belonging to a lawn service was parked in front of one of the houses, and the men unloading the mowers stopped to stare as Tamisin and Lurinda passed by. “Must be a party,” said one of the older men.
“This way,” said the woman, leading Tamisin behind the only run-down house on the street.
Tamisin had the feeling that they were being watched as they walked through the yard. It wasn’t until she glanced at the porch that she recognized the house. “This is where Jak lives!” she said. “I came here for a party.”
A face appeared at one of the windows, but was gone before Tamisin was able to get a good look. “I wonder if that’s his grandmother,” she said. “Maybe I should stop in and tell her about Jak.”
Lurinda frowned and hustled Tamisin past the house. “There’s no time for that now. Whoever is in that house wouldn’t be able to do Jak a bit of good. Here we go, right between these two trees.”
“This is the Gate Jak and I fell through the night of his party. We didn’t end up anywhere near where he thought we would.”
“That was a fluke,” said her companion. “The Gate wasn’t working right because of a storm. It corrected itself the very next day. I came through it just a few hours ago in fey time.”
Herding Tamisin in front of her, the woman took her to the hazy patch of air that marked the Gate.
“I don’t understand,” Tamisin said. “Did my mother send you here?”
“Don’t worry, my dear,” said Lurinda as they stepped from one world to the next. “It will all become clear very soon.”
Chapter 22
Lurinda swore under her breath when they stepped through the Gate between the worlds and found that it was night in the land of the fey. “Be as quiet as you can,” she whispered into Tamisin’s ear. “The lamia have been more active of late, and loud noises attract them.”
“Really?” said Tamisin. “Lou never mentioned that.”
Lurinda gave her an odd look, but didn’t say anything more as she escorted Tamisin through a meadow, past a copse of trees, and down a steep slope to a stout door set in the hillside. After pressing a square of metal set in the door, she stepped back to wait, her eyes scanning the darkness around them. Leaves rustled in a nearby shrub, making her jump and turn around; she seemed relieved when the door finally opened. Taking Tamisin’s arm, she hurried her through the doorway.
A man closed the door the moment they stepped through, then locked it with an odd-looking key. When he turned to face them, Tamisin saw that he wasn’t a man at all, but a goblin with eyes like a cat’s and black hair so thick it might have been called fur. A scar ran the width of his cheek, nearly reaching the base of one of his catlike ears, making him look quite ferocious. He eyed Tamisin as if she were something he might have found stuck to the bottom of his shoe, then glanced at Lurinda and nodded before walking away.
“Who was that?” Tamisin whispered to Lurinda.
“That was Targin, Jak’s uncle.”
“But isn’t he the one I need to talk to?” asked Tamisin.
“He’ll talk to you when he wants to, and not before.”
“I thought we hurried to get here so I could talk to him.”
“That’s true,” said Lurinda, then she, too, turned to walk away.
“Wait!” Tamisin put her hand on the woman’s arm, inadvertently pulling up her long sleeve. “I need to…” Tamisin’s voice trailed off when she glanced down at Lurinda’s hand. The goblin woman’s long, thin fingers had a dusting of white fur on the back and bore a single ring. Although the ring was unfamiliar, Tamisin had seen those hands before. “I know you!” Tamisin said, looking up into Lurinda’s eyes. “You were there when that goblin woman bit me. I was just a baby, but I’ve had the dream so many times … It was you, wasn’t it? You tucked my blanket around me. It was a kind act after those women were so cruel.”
“I’m surprised you remember,” Lurinda said, shaking off Tamisin’s hand. “I was certain the old crone’s magic didn’t work when I heard that you had come back. Yes, it was me. I was your mother’s favorite handmaiden. She came to me when she knew that she was pregnant and I helped her hide it from the court. I was there at your birth and I saw how difficult you were going to make your mother’s life. I loved her then; she was my queen and I wanted only what was best for her.”
“What about the goblin woman who bit me?” Tamisin asked.
“When I knew that you were going to be taken away, I paid her to use her magic on you. I thought she could keep you from coming back. Unfortunately for you, her magic wasn’t strong enough.”
“What about Jak? Where does he fit in all this?”
“Nowhere now. The boy was a useful tool, but he isn’t smart enough to get out of the way when his betters want to take over. The boy doesn’t know his place. The stories Nihlo has told me about Jak are disgraceful. Targin should never have let his sister leave her halfling here. I wouldn’t have been so charitable.”
The goblin woman’s words made Tamisin feel sick to her stomach. When Lurinda turned on her heel and strode off down the hall, Tamisin had to swallow hard before calling after her, “Can I see Jak?”
“If you can find him!” Lurinda replied without looking back.
Tamisin wasn’t sure what to do. It was obvious that neither Lurinda nor Targin had any intention of helping her and could probably be very nasty if they chose to be. Tamisin could only assume that Jak really was there somewhere, but she had no clue where she should start looking. A long corridor stretched before her with doors leading off on either side. She was debating whether or not she should start opening doors in the hope that she would find the right one when she realized that many of them were open just enough that the goblins inside could peek out. As a door clicked shut behind Lurinda, the goblins began to emerge from the rooms until a crowd had gathered around Tamisin. Some looked as if they might be members of the cat-goblin clan, but the rest looked like humans who had been given features from other animals. Tamisin saw long doglike faces, the tusks of wild boars, short, sharp beaks, and long bushy tails.
While she stared at the goblins, they were just as interested in her, acting as if they had never seen anything quite like her before. She put up with their poking and prodding, but when one with a snout pinched her arm, Tamisin slapped the goblin, making it squeal and back away. The rest of the goblins were grumbling when a tiny woman with long gray and white hair, catlike eyes and a kindly, wrinkled face pushed through the crowd, knocking goblins with her cane when they didn’t move.
Reaching Tamisin’s side, she smiled up at her, saying, “Don’t you remember me? I’m Jak’s grandmother Gammi. We met at the Halloween party.”
Tamisin nodded slowly. She had seen Jak’s grandmother only briefly, but this could be that woman.
“Don’t pay them any mind,” Gammi said, jerking her thumb at the goblins. “They don’t mean anything by it. Come with me. I’ve got a nice cozy room where we can sit and visit. I can’t believe she brought you here, then left you to your own devices.”
“Do you know where Jak is?” asked Tamisin.
“Of course not,” Gammi said in an overly loud voice. “But come with me anyway.”
Puzzled, Tamisin followed the old goblin woman down the hall to a room that was indeed cozy. Although it was only one room, it had been set up as two with shelves down the middle separating a bed on one side and a small table on the other. So many colorful pillows were piled on the bed that Tamisin didn’t see any space to lie down, but the chairs next to the table were big and cushy, just right for curling up in for a nap. Even the floor was padded with a thick rug that sank beneath her feet when she walked.
Once Tamis
in looked at the walls, she didn’t notice anything else. Every inch from the ceiling to the floor was covered with pictures. Some were paintings, some were sketches, some were little photographs like the ones shot in photo booths. Most of them were goblins, although there were also fairies, gnomes, humans, and at least two trolls. Tamisin saw a photograph of a little boy who might have been Jak alongside a beautiful woman of the cat clan. She had the same dark hair as Jak, but her eyes were more slanted and her cheekbones more prominent.
“That’s his mother,” said Gammi. “My youngest daughter and the most headstrong. Takes after her aunt Lurinda that way. Jak was just a kitten when I took that picture with his father’s camera. I was visiting them in the human world at the time. I liked his father, but don’t tell Targin I said that. Jak’s father was a good human, and my daughter loved him to distraction. Then he disappeared and she went crazy looking for him. He was gone for a year before she got any clue as to where he might be, so she brought Jak here and left him with Targin. She thought it was better if her brother believed that she was out wasting her life on frivolous things, but she went looking for her husband. She still is as far as I know. I haven’t heard from her in years.”
“Does Jak know all this?” asked Tamisin.
“He has no idea,” said Gammi. “I didn’t want him to think he should go looking for them. It’s bad enough that I lost his mother that way; I didn’t want to lose him, too. That sounds selfish of me, I know, but that boy means a lot to me. And that’s why I’m going to tell you where you can find him.”
“So you do know!”
“Of course I know! There’s very little that goes on around here that I don’t know. Jak is down with his hipporines. Targin locked him down there, thinking that he’d be as scared of those monsters as the rest of them are. But I know better. My Jak is the bravest one here, though there’s many that are too foolish to see it. Now, what we’re going to do is sit here and have a nice cup of catmint tea while you tell me all that you and Jak have done since the night of his Halloween party. Then, after everyone has quieted down for the night, I’ll show you where he is.”