by JL Bryan
Chapter Five
Aoide was unhappy to hear the knock on her front door. It was an unhappy knock, a gruff open-up-now sort of knock. She opened the porthole and looked out through the smoked glass. Two stout, rough-looking dwarves with thick beards stood outside. They looked like identical twins.
Aoide raised the smoked-glass window.
“Can I help you, gentledwarves?” Aoide asked.
“Rifgrid Brothers,” one said. “Collections and Repossessions.”
“We collect so you don’t have to,” the other said.
“Well, thank you for that,” Aoide said. “Unfortunately, I don’t need any collections or repossessions today. I’ll be sure to magic-mirror you if I do. Thanks for stopping by!”
“You’re welcome,” the first dwarf said.
Aoide closed the window. She only retreated a few steps from her door when the pounding knock sounded again. She returned and raised the glass.
“We’re not here to collect for you,” the second dwarf said. “We have to collect from you.”
“Collect from me? But I didn’t request any collections,” Aoide said.
“It’s not up to you,” the first dwarf said. “Because of your many unpaid bills, we have to liquido...liquify...take your stuff and sell it off.”
“Well, that’s no good,” Aoide said. “What are my other options?”
“You could pay us twenty silver pieces,” the second dwarf said. “That’ll stave off the bill collectors for a month.”
“I don’t have twenty silver pieces!” Aoide said. “You see, I’m a musician, and my lute was stolen. Our whole band was robbed of our instruments. The Queensguard is helping us find them. So if you can just wait a little while—”
“I’m afraid not, miss,” the first dwarf said. “We have to take your money or your stuff today.”
“Unfortunately, I’m not home today.” Aoide lowered the glass and locked it into place. She ran through her apartment to her sleeping-room, thinking she would hop off the rear balcony and fly away somewhere until the dwarves left.
The pink balcony shutters flew open as she approached them, and Aoide gasped in surprise.
Icarus and two other Queensguard fairies fluttered into her apartment. They kept beating their wings until they landed on her live hardwood floor, which was quite rude of them, as it made Aoide’s lighter, fluffier possessions whirl around the room.
“I’m so lucky to see you!” Aoide said to them. “Icarus, did that old elf find our instruments?”
“He did find them,” Icarus said.
“What fortunate news!” Aoide looked at their empty hands. “And where are the instruments now?”
“I said he found them,” Icarus said. “Unfortunately, he did not recover them.”
“What? How did that come to pass?” Aoide asked. The dwarves pounded on her front door again.
“The instruments were stolen by a troupe of four man-whelp musicians,” Icarus said. “They must have learned to use them. They defeated Hoke’s unicorn, even after it molted into full dragon form.”
“They slew a dragon!” Aoide gasped. “And they’re using our music as weapons. Typical humans. And they still have them?”
“The Queensguard will take a different approach to this investigation,” Icarus said.
“What kind of approach?”
“I am not permitted to say,” Icarus told her.
“And what of our savings?” Aoide asked. “You took them to pay the elf, but as he failed...We should get our coins and gems back today. True?”
“False,” Icarus said.
“Why false?” Aoide asked. “You have all of our savings. We need it back. The dwarves are literally at the door.” She pointed toward her front door, where the dwarves pounded and shouted for her to open up. “If you’re not going to pay the elf’s fee, you should return our savings.”
“We will use them to fund the Queensguard’s investigation into this matter,” Icarus said. “When we recover your instruments, I will refund whatever remains of your savings.”
“But that’s not fair!” Aoide said. “Just give it back. I’ll go to man-world myself and recover the instruments, if that is what’s needed.”
“You will not!” Icarus glared at her with bright sapphire eyes. He would be handsome, she thought, if he were not the Queen’s toadie. “All of you are forbidden to step toe into man-world. This violates the Supreme Law!”
“Of course, sir, I didn’t know what I was thinking,” Aoide said. “But how did four man-children enter our world?”
“That is part of our investigation,” Icarus said. “When we catch the party who let them in, the Queen will apply the full penalty. We are focusing on Goblin Row, near the music park where the theft occurred. It may be a goblin who stole your instruments and sold them to humans.”
“A terrible crime!” Aoide said.
“Which does not forgive your negligence in letting them be stolen,” Icarus said.
“Of course not.” Aoide looked at her bare feet. Inside, she was fuming. She and her bandmates were the victims—their instruments had been stolen. So far, all the Queensguard had done was take their savings, too, leaving them with nothing. On top of that, the Queen had suggested that Aoide and her band had broken the Supreme Law by letting objects of high magic slip into man-world. “But how am I to pay rent?”
“I have fortunate news,” Icarus said. “The Queen is hiring new cleaning staff for her palace. If you were a maid there, I could see you often.” He smiled.
“A maid? I’ve taken centuries of conservatory training,” Aoide said. “I am not a maid!”
“Pride will not take you far in the world,” Icarus said.
“Neither will polishing the Queen’s faucets,” Aoide said. “In fact, I have taken a job, as a barista at the Amberflower Cafe. It begins next week. So I will not need your help.”
“That’s too bad,” Icarus said. “I think you would look quite floral in a maid’s uniform.”
“Have you any other news, or do you only stay here to harass me?” Aoide asked.
“I have one further question,” Icarus said. “Tonight, there is quite an exciting rabbit race at the Circus. I would like you to accompany me.”
“I do not care for rabbit races,” Aoide said.
“And perhaps I will buy you a honey-flower as well,” he said. “You must be hungry, having no money left.”
Aoide was, in fact, quite hungry, but had no intention of letting this blond thug know it.
“A word of advice, Icarus,” Aoide said. “If you intend to ask a lady on a date, do not begin by robbing her and accusing her of crimes. You may go now.” Aoide pointed to her open balcony shutters.
“You should not be so unfriendly to a Queensguard captain,” Icarus said. He was smiling at her, but his eyes were like frost. “Some could take such a rejection as an insult.”
“And perhaps some are deserving of insult,” Aoide replied.
Icarus glared at her.
“Let’s go,” he said to the other black-armored fairies. “Not that way,” he added, when the two of them turned toward the balcony. “This way.”
Icarus tossed aside the paper dressing screen and led them out of her sleeping-room, past her snacking-room and out to her receiving room, right toward the front door. The dwarves hadn’t stopped their knocking and shouting.
“Oh, please, good Folk!” Aoide said. “Don’t open that door. Please simply leave out the back, as you came.”
“Raise your chin, Aoide,” Icarus said. “Be sweet, if there is sweetness in you, and perhaps one of these dwarves will take you out for a fried ostrich leg.”
Icarus threw open the door, and the hefty dwarves barged inside. They hesitated when they saw the three Queensguard fairies.
“Pardon us, sirs,” one dwarf said. “We didn’t mean to interfere with the Queen’s business.”
“You have interfered not at all,” Icarus said. �
�The Queen’s business is only to assure law and order. Proceed with your work, dwarves.”
Icarus and the other Queensguard fairies continued outside to the front landing porch, where they jumped into the air and flew away.
“You take the daybed,” one dwarf said. “I’ll start with the indoor trellis over there.”
“Oh, please, kind dwarves,” Aoide said. “I’ll get paid from my waitressing job next week. Can’t we wait until then?”
“Sorry, lady,” the other dwarf said, picking up her guest daybed. “Today’s the day.”
Aoide frowned. She stomped back into her sleeping-room and slammed the paper dressing-screen closed.