Another Dreadful Fairy Book

by Jon Etter

  “I’m sorry, good mining fairy, but you keep talking of things like ‘attractions’ and ‘amusement centers’ but I know not of what you speak,” Sir Justinian said.

  “Yeah, you talk-a the nonsense,” Ginch agreed.

  “It’s not nonsense—it’s a great opportunity for the people who live around here and for investors like you. I’ve taken the money my family has made in mining and, like, hired some of the out-of-work miners to turn these hills into a place for people to have fun.”

  “So you build-a the tavern,” Ginch said. The Professor gave a thumbs up, pulled a mug of mead from his coat, saluted Elidyr, and gulped it down.

  “No. This isn’t going to be some minging old pub. This is going to be a place that fairies will come from all over Elfame to see.”

  “So it’s-a gonna be the big, fancy tavern,” Ginch replied. The Professor took out, toasted with, and drained another mug of mead, then burped.

  “It’s not a tavern! It’s going to be, like, a place where entire families can have a good time and don’t you dare say it’s a tavern again,” Elidyr said as Ginch opened his mouth and the Professor took out another drink. “It’ll have rides that show you the beauty of the underground world or, like, whip you through tunnels at an alarming rate but safely so it’ll be terrifying and fun at the same time, and we’ll take an old mining camp and rebuild it with lush mining-themed restaurants and gift shops, and I was thinking that maybe we’d create some cute and lovable characters, like maybe Gary the Gold Nugget or Bituminous Betty, and a cantankerous old miner with—”

  “Actually, before you go on too much more, I should tell you we’re not potential investors,” Shade admitted.

  Elidyr looked surprised. “Then who are you and why were you in my mines?”

  “Well, I’m a junior librarian, he’s a knight errant, and those two are crooks,” Shade explained.

  “We prefer ‘fairies of fortune,’” Ginch said. He and the Professor tipped their hats to Elidyr.

  “They’re crooks. And we came to the Hollow Hills for this.” Shade took the book they’d taken from Grigor Byrrower’s hands from her backpack.

  “Why would you come for a prop from my attraction?” Elidyr asked.

  “Well, I’ll have you know that what you have here is a lot more than just some prop,” Shade explained. “In fact, this . . . ” Shade trailed off as she flipped from blank page to blank page. “What the donkle is this?”

  Elidyr’s face lit up. “Oh, I get it! You’re, like, one of those Garglers, aren’t you?”

  “That’s-a ‘Gloogers,’” Ginch said.

  “No, it’s G.L.U.G.ers.” Shade frowned, irritated.

  “And you thought that was my great-uncle’s codebook. Sorry, but it seemed dumb to keep a good book hidden in some musty crypt, so when I took over the mines from my parents, I put the codebook in my cabin. That’s just, like, an empty journal I put there to keep the compression chamber from going off and, you know, to make it look good.”

  Shade punched Ginch hard in the arm. “Ow! ’Ey, whatta you do, fatcha-coota-matchca, sproot?”

  “I don’t know him well enough to punch him.”

  “All right, that’s-a fair,” Ginch said, rubbing his shoulder.

  “Here, since I was, like, going to take you to my cabin anyway, we’ll go there and get you that book,” Elidyr said agreeably.

  “Okay, but first we should go and get our mule and cart,” Shade said.

  “That’s unicorn,” said a gravelly voice from the trees surrounding the tunnel entrance. “And I wouldn’t go back for the cart if I were you. Unless you really wanna be captured, killed, and maybe eaten.”

  In which an offer is declined, and

  the seeds of doubt are sown . . .

  “What are you talking about?” Shade demanded.

  “You have a talking mule?” Elidyr asked. “That’s tidy, that is!”

  “I’m actually a unicorn. And this gang of red caps just showed up—a couple goblins, a spriggan, a wulver—talking about lying in wait to ambush you and take ‘the little bug girl’ back to their boss. Then that spriggan complained about being hungry and started looking at me and getting all drooly, so I bolted.”

  Shade frowned. “The goblins. Did they have hyena heads?”

  Trudgemore nodded. “Yeah. Couldn’t tell the difference between ’em. Sorry if that sounds fairiest of me but—.”

  “Wait here, everyone.” Shade flew up and around the side of the grassy hill. When she made it to the other side, she spied the waterfall and the pool outside the cave entrance and there, waiting with clubs and swords in hand, were the goblin twins, Laffer and Gaffer, Wolfgang the wulver, and the spriggan Struggs. The same gang that Shade and her friends had fought when she first made her way to the Grand Library. The same gang employed by the Sluagh noblewoman who had sworn vengeance on Shade: Lady Perchta, the Duchess of Sighs.

  So it is Perchta who’s been hunting the members of G.L.U.G., Shade thought as she fluttered back to the others. I knew it! She must want the books so that she and the Sluagh Horde can attack and defeat the Seelie Court. There must be something really, really powerful in those books.

  Shade and the others hurried off to Elidyr’s cabin. Perched atop the next hill over, it was a cozy, one-story affair made of golden-brown logs topped with a grass-covered roof on which three small goats were grazing. “Helps keep the house cool in summer and warm in winter,” Elidyr explained as he pulled up to a post and bar similar to the one on the hillside and swung himself down from the cart and into a wheeled chair. “Come on inside and we’ll get that book.”

  The first thing that Shade noticed about the cabin when they got inside was that the shelves holding books and blankets and other odds and ends were all mounted fairly low on the walls. The second thing she noticed was that there were so many books. Scanning the shelf nearest to her, she saw books of poetry: The Collected Works of Belle of Amherst, Whitman’s Blades of Barley, Letterrate and Charhill’s Lyrical Ballads, and many others.

  “That’s, like, the poetry section. I’ve got the books arranged by content. And right here, in the adventure section, is the book you’re looking for.” Elidyr pulled out An Expedition to the Underground World by Verne de Feydeau and handed it to Shade. “Great-Uncle Grigor’s copy of the secret message is tucked inside.”

  Shade hugged the book to her chest. “This is wonderful! We’ve got all the codebooks now. The others are waiting at the Grand Library. We can all go back there, decode the message, and get the books!”

  Elidyr looked embarrassed. “That sounds great, but to be honest, like . . . I’m not coming along.”

  “What?” Shade was shocked. Then, looking at Elidyr’s chair, she thought she understood. “Oh, no, don’t worry—the Grand Library doesn’t have any stairs. It’s one big ramp, so your chair would totally—”

  “It’s not that,” Elidyr explained. “I’ve been to the library a few times and it’s great. And even if it didn’t have the ramp, I’d, like, figure out a way to make it work.”

  “Then why—”

  “What it is is I’ve got too much to do here. My dream is to build something great, something new, something Elfame’s never seen before. And we’re getting close to being done. I can’t leave that right now.”

  “But what about your great-uncle’s dream of bringing those books back to the world?” Shade asked.

  Elidyr smiled. “It’s a good dream, and I’m really glad that you and other people are going to, like, make it come true and that I was able to help, but it’s not my dream, no matter how much Great-Uncle Grigor and my parents tried to make it be. They lived their lives. I have to live mine.”

  As Elidyr gave them all a ride back to the library tree, Shade pondered what Elidyr had said. All I’ve ever wanted to do was live around books, and this is taking me away from them and putting my life and the lives of my friends at risk. And for what? To find a few books? Is that real
ly worth it? And am I doing this because it’s what Dad would have wanted or because it’s what I want? Shouldn’t I know?

  When they arrived at the Grand Library, Shade had no answers as they went in to decipher a code that had gone unbroken for more than a hundred years.

  In which the location of the lost

  books is revealed . . .

  “The Grand Scrutinizer has yet to return,” Johannes informed Shade as most of the library staff, Poor Richard, the Bowser twins, Sir Justinian, Grouse, and even Trudgemore (whose ability to talk and read settled all objections to the presence of a pack mule/alleged unicorn in the Grand Library) gathered in one of the library’s private meeting rooms late that afternoon.

  “But I’m sure he will,” Émilie said grimly.

  “What about the books on the list I gave you?” Shade asked.

  “Interest dropped a bit later in the day, but still they vere looked at.”

  On a large table, Shade and the other members of G.L.U.G. spread out four identical code sheets and the five codebooks. “Okay,” Shade said. “Everybody, grab your books and decode your code sheets.”

  Ginnie and Ronnie Bowser both grabbed The Fairy Godfather and tugged it back and forth. “Shoove off, Gin,” Ronnie said, attempting to yank the book. “This is me book.”

  “Like fun it is,” Ginnie replied as she jerked the book free. “Gran would want me to have it!”

  Ronnie made a grab for the book. “Don’t yez bring Gran into this, Gin!”

  Shade rolled her eyes and slid Martinko’s book across the table to them. “Here, blueberry-brains. One of you can go through that.”

  Glaring at her sister, Ronnie picked up Martinko’s book and everyone started flipping through pages and jotting down words. When they were done, they all slid their papers to Shade who tried combination after combination of words. She eventually stopped. “On the north face of Mount Wyrd, high in the ruined Tower of Dead Souls,” she read aloud. “Sounds kind of creepy.”

  The others looked at her in disbelief. “Do you . . . understand what you just read?” Émilie asked delicately.

  “Yeah. We’re going to have to climb the biggest dingle-dangle mountain in Elfame, which is going to be a real pain, to get to some run-down tower—”

  “You no know about the Tower of the Dead Souls?” Ginch asked.

  Shade’s face grew hot with embarrassment. She hated having to admit when she didn’t know something. “No, but—”

  “Surely, Lady Shade, you have heard tales of the dreaded Robin Redcap,” Sir Justinian said.

  “Well . . . maybe one or two . . . ”

  “That’s-a the bluff! I know the bluff when I see it, and that’s-a the bluff,” Ginch declared. “How can you no know about the Robin Redcap?”

  “Maybe because I grew up in the middle of nowhere! So who the donkle is Robin Redcap?”

  “Robin Redcap is the most feared fairy of all time,” Johannes explained.

  “Zey say zat ’e is zousands of seasons old and feasts upon ze blood and ze souls of fairies,” François said.

  “Murders ’em with the sickle he always carries,” Ronnie said.

  “Don’t forget how he dyes his hat red with the blood of his victims, Ronnie,” Ginnie added.

  “I’m not forgetting that, Gin! I were joost pausin’ for dramatic effect, which yez joost ruined.”

  “That’s-a why the Sluagh goons wear the red caps,” Ginch explained. “They think it make them look tough and scary, like the Robin Redcap.”

  The Professor whistled and pointed at his foot.

  “I was-a gettin’ to the iron shoes! Robin Redcap wears the iron shoes.”

  “He’s the only fairy unharmed by cold iron,” Sir Justinian said, squinting and stroking his chin.

  Grouse’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, no . . . He’s going to say it’s—”

  “A worthy challenge!” Sir Justinian smiled broadly. Grouse groaned and buried his face in his hands. “My loyal squire, Grouse, and I will gladly join you.”

  Poor Richard sighed. “I’m afraid my frailty must keep me here. Perhaps it’s just as well—poor Martinko’s life still hangs in the balance.”

  “Well, I’m as strong as an ox,” Ronnie Bowser declared.

  “And twice as ugly,” Ginnie said.

  “Only ’cause I look like yez,” Ronnie shot back. “I’m coomin’.”

  “That goes double for me,” Ginnie said. “My sister and I are going to make Gran proud.”

  Everyone looked expectantly at Shade. They’re all counting on me, Shade fretted. She turned to her friends, who had been with her ever since she left Pleasant Hollow. If they said no, would she have the courage to go on without them? Would their refusal be enough justification for remaining behind herself? “Ginch? Professor? What about you?”

  The two uneasily tugged at their shirt collars. “Wait a minote. We gotta consider the pros and the cons and make the informed decision.” The two turned their backs to the others and huddled together. Both gestured animatedly while Ginch whispered. After a few moments they straightened up, and Ginch flipped a gold coin in the air, caught it, and slapped it down on the back of his hand. He slowly peeked at it and frowned. “Heads. Fatcha-coota-matchca, coin! Looks like we go with you.”

  That’s it, then, I suppose, Shade thought. “Okay. We leave tomorrow morning.”

  “But why wait? Adventure calls now!” Sir Justinian unsheathed his sword and pointed it up at the ceiling.

  “It’d be really nice if Adventure would shut its stupid face for once,” Grouse grumbled.

  “One: It’ll be night soon, and I don’t think we want to be scaling a mountain at night,” Shade explained. “Two: We’ll need to gather food and other supplies. Three: It would probably be good for at least one of us to read up on mountain climbing. Four: I think Lady Perchta is the one who’s been trying to kill all the G.L.U.G.ers and beat us to the lost books, so—”

  “Perchta?” Sir Justinian’s eyes narrowed. “You’re sure?”

  “Almost positive,” Shade said. “The fairies who were going to ambush us were some of the ones we fought when she attacked us on the Marble Cliffs six months ago.”

  “Then we no gotta worry about the Perchta, eh?” Ginch said, sounding a little relieved. “She must be back in the Hollow Hills.”

  “I don’t know. Think about it—over the past few days, we’ve been attacked in some way, shape, or form in Cottinghamtownshireborough, Bilgewater, and the Hollow Hills. There’s no way anyone can get to all of those places that fast.”

  The Professor cleared his throat and pointed at himself, Ginch, and Shade.

  “Okay, sure, we did, but only because the Grand Library is in all of those places—again, how I’m still not sure of.” The Professor pulled a slate and piece of chalk out and began to scribble mathematical equations. “Not now, Professor. Anyway, she must have troops or agents everywhere that she sends orders to, using—I don’t know—birds or magic mirrors or something. So she could be anywhere, and so could goons working for her.”

  “But this Perchta, she wouldn’t know about Mount Wyrd, would she?” Ginnie said. “After all, we just found out ourselves.”

  “For once, me sis’s right aboot soomethin’,” Ronnie agreed. “No need to worry.”

  They’ve got a point, Shade thought, but she had an uneasy feeling. “We still need to prepare.”

  “Oh, I shall prepare,” Sir Justinian said. “The chance to square off against both a nigh-invulnerable creature and my most hated foe? Fortune surely smiles.”

  “I just want to eat an entire cheesecake and die.” Grouse sighed. The Professor reached into his coat and pulled out a cheesecake. “That’s covered in lint,” Grouse said.

  The Professor shrugged, pulled out a fork, and began eating.

  •

  A knock on her door roused Shade in her small reading chair where she was surrounded by books. “Dozed off studying?” Poor
Richard asked from the doorway.

  “Yeah.” Shade yawned and stretched. “I was just trying to get ready for tomorrow.”

  “Often, studying too much can leave one just as unready as not enough,” the cowlug said, leaning on his cane. “And what have you managed to learn?”

  “Not a lot. What little there is on Robin Redcap and the Tower of Dead Souls seems pretty dodgy. Other than that, I think I’ve got the basics of mountain climbing down, all of which seems to amount to ‘don’t fall.’” Shade sighed. “I wish we could be better prepared than that, but I guess it’ll have to do.”

  “I get the sense that your reluctance to sally forth isn’t just about a lack of preparation, is it?”

  Shade wanted to object, but Richard’s kind, knowing eyes stopped her. “I . . . I don’t know why I’m doing all this. Or if I should be doing this. I mean, I should know, right? What we’re doing could get me killed. Could get my friends killed. For what? Because my dad wanted me to do it because his dad wanted him to do it and his dad and the rest of you before him? Maybe Elidyr had the right idea. Maybe I should just abandon this stupid quest and stay in the library where I belong. No offense—I know that you’ve lived your whole life for this and—”

  “Oh, pish tosh! I haven’t lived my life just to find those books. I’ve experimented and written and disputed and had the time of my life all these years. As for doing this for me or Alexandria or your great-grandfather—or for your father for that matter—well . . . Do you know what my father, Richard Freeholder the III, did for a living?”

  “No.”

  “He was one of the wealthiest landowners in our little corner of Elfame. Collected the rents and lorded it over the common folk. ‘Rich by name, rich by nature,’ they used to say of him, and he wanted me to be just like him when I grew up.”

  “And what did you do?” Shade asked.

  “I ran away and hid in a library,” Richard chuckled. “And when I inherited my father’s lands, I sold them off and happily squandered my wealth on science and learning and charity.”