Fairy Metal Thunder (Songs of Magic, Book 1)

by JL Bryan

Chapter Nineteen

  The dining room of the dullahan's house in Chippewa Falls had heavy brick walls decorated with dusty portraits, and a high pressed-tin ceiling smudged dark by a century of incense and candle smoke. A great fire burned in a massive stone fireplace, filling the house with the tangy bitter aroma of dried uglywort. Candles burned in the antique chandelier overhead.

  The dullahan Zinerva sat at the head of the table, under a giant portrait of a much more beautiful version of herself. She looked over the three darkfae she'd invited up from Faerie.

  The first darkfae she'd summoned was her old friend Rachnia, who had the head and torso of a woman, but the body of a black widow spider. Rachnia had long, dark locks of hair and a pair of venomous fangs.

  The second looked like a squat, stout man with the head of a warthog. His original name was long forgotten, partly because he forbade anyone to speak it, as if ashamed of the monster he’d become. For centuries, everyone had called him Hogshead.

  The third had swollen black insect eyes and the wings of a fly, and he was called Muscar.

  Like the dullahan, all three of them had once been beautiful fairies, in an age long forgotten, but using dark magic had twisted their forms along with their minds.

  Zinerva's servant Mortimer circled the table, serving toadstools topped with sprigs of deliciously poisonous belladonna.

  “Why are we here?” Hogshead snarled. “I am very busy.”

  “I have word of an opportunity,” Zinerva said. “Four fairy instruments have been stolen away into man-world. The Queen has quietly offered the gatekeepers a high bounty for them.”

  “Szzzurely you have not brought uzzz here to purzzzzue a bounty,” Muscar buzzed.

  “This presents a greater opportunity than mere silver,” Zinerva told him. “The instruments represent the four magical elements—earth, air, fire and water. Taken together, and used with the proper skill, they can accomplish powerful feats. Fortunately, these man-whelps can’t imagine anything beyond a little wealth and fame for themselves.”

  “But you can imagine more,” Rachnia said, smiling around her fangs.

  “Naturally,” the dullahan said. “The combined power of the four elements can be used to break the Queen’s seal on one of the old gates to Faerie. We could open and control our own gate.”

  “Our own gate to Faerie,” Hogshead mused. “Outside the Queen’s control.”

  “This izzz interezzzting,” Muscar said.

  “The Queen has imprisoned so many of our old allies in her labyrinth,” the dullahan said. “Petunius the Flower-Monster. Three-Horned Sal and his salamander minions. The Teddy Bears of Zarmof. And so many others. The Queen arrests anyone who could possibly challenge her power.”

  Mortimer brought out the second course: fried grasshoppers and braised slugs.

  “Don’t be stingy with the slugs, pal,” Hogshead growled. “And fetch me another cup of fungus cider.”

  “With the power of the four elements, we can find an old, closed gate here in man-world,” Zinerva continued. “We can connect it deep inside the Queen’s labyrinth, where she keeps our allies.”

  “Then we will free our friendzzz,” Muscar said.

  “And we will unleash hordes of destruction upon man-world!” Hogshead slammed his fist into the table.

  “No hordes of destruction!” the dullahan snapped. “Not yet. We will carefully assemble all of our old friends in secret. And then, when we are ready to take control of man-world—”

  “Then we unleash hordes of destruction!” Hogshead pounded the table again.

  “Yes, then the hordes of destruction, and so on,” Zinerva said.

  Her three guests were silent for a minute as they considered this.

  “Can you really do this?” Hogshead asked. “Change a gate's destination?”

  “I have found a spellbook that describes just how to do it,” the dullahan said. “And I have my agents watching the four man-whelps who stole the instruments from Faerie. When the opportunity arises, we will move in and take the instruments from them.

  Mortimer served the main course, a roasted crow on a golden platter. Muscar greedily ripped off a thick, stringy drumstick for himself.

  “I will not come with you,” the dullahan added. “These man-whelps will recognize my face, as I am posted here, in the town where they live. And the Queen cannot discover my role in this. She must think I am a loyal servant.”

  “And if things go wrong, you can deny being involved,” Hogshead said. “How convenient for you.”

  “I will be involved,” Zinerva said. “I simply must not be seen.”

  “Why don’t we zzzimply alter the gate in your back yard?” Muscar asked, wiggling his antennae inquisitively.

  “The Queen’s magicians will know if I alter the gate I am supposed to watch,” Zinerva said. “It must be an old, closed, forgotten gate.”

  “Do you have a particular old gate in mind?” Rachnia asked.

  “There are old gates all over the world, from the age when Folk and humans mingled freely,” the dullahan said. “Any one will do. The more forgotten, the better. We are in agreement on this task, then? And we swear ourselves to secrecy?”

  After some grumbling, they all agreed. The dullahan smiled as Mortimer brought out dessert: dung beetles in pickle sauce.

  Everyone ate greedily.