Blood & Flowers

by Penny Blubaugh

  “Like I said before, we’ll do the participation ourselves if we have to,” Floss had responded.

  Fred’s elbows had been on the table when he pointed one long index finger in agreement. “We can’t ask anyone else because Mother won’t let them in. Father will go along with her just because he usually does.” Fred stopped and took in an audible breath. “She’s a strong personality, is mother.”

  Floss had snorted. “To say the least.”

  “Exactly.” Fred had raised both shoulders, then dropped them. “Feron is anyone’s guess, but if he’s there I’m sure it’s safe to say that he won’t be on our side. My suggestion is to pretend that Bron and Rohan are part of all this and let them be the audience plants.”

  “So this is all more dangerous than I’m pretending it is?” I’d asked.

  “Are you pretending?” Fred had sounded interested.

  I’d looked around the dinner table, looked at all my friends, and said, “Of course I’m pretending. I’d never get anywhere otherwise.”

  Floss had nodded. “You’re absolutely right. Just don’t forget which part is true and which is the game.”

  “If games are supposed to be fun I’m not sure this qualifies,” Tonio had said.

  “It does if you pretend hard enough,” Lucia had replied. “And remember, that’s what we’re good at.”

  “So, no other audience,” I’d said, just to clarify.

  “Right,” various voices had assured me.

  So, while we’d generally discussed this, and made a decision, in the end it didn’t matter one bit. When Elbe and his rainbow-bedecked Emporium appeared in the field next to Dau Hermanos there were at least thirty assorted beings gathered on the porch. I saw two who looked like they were related to Reginald, a tall, tall thin woman dressed in sheer blue, a tiny brown person in a pink sprigged dress and Wellington boots, and an identical trio with purple hair, nose rings, and pointed ears. And that was just my first look.

  On my second look I saw, off to my left, what must have been some of Lucia’s eye-corner creatures. I couldn’t quite get a read on them, but an aura of danger dangled in that direction. Every time I tried to face them head-on, they disappeared.

  While I was trying to catch a glimpse of the eye-corner creatures Fred said, “Elbe brought an audience.”

  “Yeah,” I said. I was still trying to turn the flickers in my eyes into something substantial. “And maybe more than we can see right now.” I looked past my shoulder again and caught an outline, nothing more. “Are those things dangerous?” I asked.

  Fred said, “What things?”

  Floss, coming up behind me with her arms full of Edgar, stopped and stared hard at Elbe’s porch. “I thought we said no company,” she growled.

  “I certainly didn’t invite them,” Fred said.

  “And Elbe said he wasn’t political,” I said, “so it couldn’t have been him.” I’d given up on finding what I couldn’t see. There wasn’t enough time to chase illusions. Instead I tried to keep my lyric lists and posters from tumbling into a pile of talus on Elbe’s front lawn.

  El Jeffery stopped trundling his unicycle. He had a marching band snare hung around his neck. “Elbe not political?” He laughed. “Of course he’s political. He plays all sides against one another every day. He just pretends that he doesn’t.”

  I widened my eyes at the griffin. “You were there, earlier today. You heard him say he’s apolitical. You even asked how he’d get himself into trouble if he helped us.”

  El Jeffery shrugged. “Two different issues, I think.”

  “No, they’re not,” I muttered.

  “None of that matters now,” Tonio said. “They’re here. We’re here. Let’s move them so we can get to work.”

  A voice behind us said, “This should be fun, shouldn’t it? It’s so nice to have everyone together again, too. Like Homecoming. Plus.”

  The voice was weaker than it had been the last time I’d heard it, but the poking, prodding nastiness made it easy to recognize. Major.

  Tonio didn’t stop walking, didn’t stop balancing his boxes of candles. Floss didn’t turn, just kept going toward Elbe’s, holding Edgar. Lucia, Nicholas, Fred, and El Jeffery moved forward, although I noticed Nicholas’s armload of faerielight shiver and shift. But I stayed where I was, rooted in the moment. So I was the one who heard Max say, “I do so hope it was the rough crossing that put you in the shape you’re in. You look like hell.” He examined Major critically, then added, “But damn it, you look so much better than I’d hoped.”

  That, coming from Max, who was usually so gentle, shocked me. I turned a full 180 degrees. Max stood like he would have if he’d been in a boxing ring. He looked ready to start sparring, looked like he would have already smashed a fist into Major if he hadn’t been carrying my stage. The little red and gold curtains quivered on their wires. Somehow, with that puppet in his hand, he looked more dangerous than I’d ever seen him.

  Major looked close to dreadful. He was pale, his hair was long and uneven, and there was stubble on his cheeks. His clothes looked like the same ones he’d been wearing when we’d left the chocolate factory that last late night, and they looked like they’d seen a lot of wear since then. There were deep rings under his eyes, the kind that came with weariness and pain, and one arm was in a sling. When he moved he moved stiffly, using the kind of moves people make when everything hurts. His eyes traveled up and down Max and he said, “You look absolutely adorable with your little puppet stage.”

  The fingers on Max’s free hand clenched. I stepped in front of him and said, “Actually, it’s my little puppet stage. I just didn’t have a carrying hand. Max, could you make sure that Lucia knows it’s here? She was worried about it.”

  He breathed deep enough that I could see his chest rise, nodded, and left.

  Major said, “Ah. Defending him. How sweet.”

  “Actually, I thought I was defending you. You look like you could be blown away by a light breeze, and Max is ever so much more than that.” I shrugged. “But, if I think about it more, maybe you’re right. Max would probably just kill you, and that might look a tiny bit bad for him. Even here.”

  Reginald came up and stood close to Major. His own protection. In his irritating rumble he said, “I can take care of her for you.”

  Before all of the words were out of Reginald’s mouth, an older version of Fred materialized. “Materialized” because at the beginning of the sentence he wasn’t there and at the end of it he was. Simple as that. It was like watching a magician at work. The newcomer was as blond as Floss, and taller and heavier than Fred in a way that suggested brute strength. He had an air of entitlement to him too, as if he were the kind of person who was used to getting just what he wanted without having to work for it.

  “Now, Reginald,” he chided. “Remember, we’re only here as observers. You, me, and my good friend Major.” He raised his voice on the last three words, which had to make them carry to Elbe’s porch, had to make them float right over to Fred and Floss.

  I saw Floss stiffen, but she didn’t turn around. I saw Fred’s hands hesitate as he helped Nicholas with the faerielight platform, but he recovered and straightened a piling. And I knew, without a doubt, that I was meeting Feron for the first time.

  I looked at Reginald; I looked at Major. Then I looked at Feron. Similarities between them were plain, but it was obvious who was in charge here, and it wasn’t Major. Feron smiled at me, a dragon smile. “I’ll leave you to get reacquainted,” he said, and he walked away from us, headed to a grove of trees a small distance away from Elbe’s.

  I looked one more time at Major and, for a flash of a second, I wondered what we’d all been so scared of for so long. With Feron there, it was as if I’d seen Major for the first time as exactly what he was—someone with a modicum of power who had dreams of grandeur. But it was only for that second. As soon as Feron was seven long, graceful strides away, Major was in charge again. Maybe Major was all an illusion, but if
he was, he was a particularly well-imagined one. He still made me feel ripples on my skin, as if someone was scratching a blackboard.

  “I can take care of her,” Reginald growled again, and this time he sounded hopeful.

  But Major shook his head and never looked at the troll. “I’m fine. Go with Feron.”

  Reginald shrugged, a movement like a large stone being tumbled by a very fast-moving stream, turned on his heel, and left.

  “Why are you here?” I asked suddenly, and I really wanted to know. “You’ve been after us all this time. I know Tonio’s great, but really, give it up.”

  Major chuckled, but there wasn’t any humor there. He said absolutely nothing, just watched me for what felt like hours, then shrugged. “I can tell you because there’s not a thing you can do to stop it. Not now. Tonio’s the least of it.”

  “Yeah. Right,” I said.

  “No. You obviously don’t understand. It’s all about me. It always has been. Tonio was the add-on. The frosting on the cake, so to speak, but with what’s available to me now, he’s nothing. I followed you here, yes, but by the time I did that, you were all practically incidental. I must admit, after multiple trips with Feron, I thought it’d be easier to get through on my own. That was my biggest miscalculation because, as you can see, I met up with some damage. But I made it. And Feron and I are working together again, just like we did in our world, making sure there are drinks and dust enough for anyone who wants them.”

  “That was you? All the pink and purple drinks at home? That was you?”

  He laughed, and he got the humor just right. I thought for a brief second of how good an actor he could have been if he’d channeled his energy in a different direction. “Who else? It was for old times’ sake that I dropped the blame on Tonio. In fact, old times are why I convinced Feron to have you put on your little show, with its obvious outcome. All of us together, one more time. It’s really a shame I don’t have a paper to write for here, isn’t it?”

  “So no matter what you say, it really is us you’re after.”

  He waved his arm, the one that wasn’t in the sling, in the air, the universal gesture of a blow off. “At this point what happens to your little group doesn’t matter to me in the least. Although it will make Feron very happy to have his meddling sister and probably his brother, too, gone from here for good. Then the place can be ruled the way it should be, without the worry of interference. And I must admit that seeing all of you taken down will be pure pleasure for me.”

  I thought of all the lives he’d been wrecking, both here and at home, and I shook my head in frustration.

  He beamed at me. “When I got here I courted Feron’s damnable family. I courted that bastard troll. And it worked. I’m getting exactly what I want, exactly what I need, because they all love me now.”

  I thought of what I’d just seen of Feron. I doubted that he loved anyone but himself.

  Major was still talking. “After you lose this idiotic charade—and you will lose, believe me—then I’ll be free to get on with my life. I’ll have my own little corner of Faerie to do with just as I please. It’s been promised. I’ll have a staging spot, one where I can go back and forth between worlds, one where I can gather dust and drinks for transport.”

  “That to and fro didn’t work too well for you last time, did it? Your travel arrangements must have been botched,” I said. I sounded braver than I felt.

  “Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

  I winced at both his assumption and his choice of the words “pretty little head.”

  Major kept talking. “I’ve got it all straightened out now. It’s perfect. A hideout, a money source, and hell if I won’t be set for life! Then absolutely anything can happen.”

  With an almost audible click I understood exactly what he was talking about. I felt like I was scrying through a crystal. He thought he could pull off a Faerie coup. I laughed out loud. The Feron I’d seen and the Feron Major knew would have had to be dark and light twins for something like that to happen. “Don’t be ridiculous! Feron and his family would never let you do anything to touch their authority.” I didn’t know Floss’s family, but this was something I was sure of.

  “Think what you want. I tell you, Feron’s already promised. And if he’s promised, it’s as good as done. The royal family is getting old, you know.” He let that statement hang in delicate balance on the air before he added, “The troll and I will share at the start, on that little piece of land that he owns. It won’t be hard, though, to keep a troll busy.” He stopped and smiled. “He’d be fabulous let loose at home with a pocketful of dust, wouldn’t he?”

  The thought of Reginald, with his high menace and low intelligence, set loose in my town with pixie dust, was enough to make me queasy.

  Still smiling, Major added, “He’s so easy to manage. And he’s so damned primal he won’t know I’ve taken over until it’s too late to do anything about it. And you know how it goes. Once you’ve got a toe-hold…”

  He was so pleased with himself. “I could tell them what you’re planning,” I said.

  “Feel free. Tell anyone you’d like. They’d never believe you. Not a friend of Floss’s.”

  He half turned away from me, then stopped, flashed a tooth-baring grin, and said, “Have a great show.”

  There wasn’t one thing to say to that, so I just watched him go. And as I watched I saw what could only be the arrival of Fred and Floss’s family.

  The woman had hair that matched Floss’s dandelion fluff, but it was cotton white instead of yellow. The man was as tall as Fred and walked with his easy confidence. They were followed by a small entourage, including standard bearers who were making their banners flap in a stiff breeze that no one else seemed to feel. I saw Major walk over to Feron, saw them meet the royal family, saw them chatting like old friends. I fast-walked up to Elbe’s porch.

  Fred and Floss knew the rest of their family was there. I could tell by the set of their shoulders and what seemed to be an absolute aversion to turn and put Elbe’s front door behind them. But they didn’t say anything, just began to shoo beings off the porch and onto the grass.

  When the little woman with the Wellingtons passed me I could see that she held a placard on a pole. It was small because she was small, but I could still read it. Puppets 10, Rulers 0. Floss read it too. She had to have, because what else was there about this situation that could make her lips curve in a halfhearted grin?

  Tonio motioned all of us to come inside of Elbe’s. “We’re down to forty-three minutes, people.” He looked at each of us, really looked. “We need to work like hell, but we can do this.”

  As a pep talk it left something to be desired, but its message was clear. But before everyone could leave to follow Tonio’s instructions, I said, “I just talked to Major.”

  Movement ceased, and many pairs of eyes focused hard on me.

  “And?” Tonio finally asked.

  “And apparently we’re no longer what he’s after. We never really were. The whole thing at home was more stick-it-to-Tonio than anything else. Because once he met Feron, he convinced himself that we were nothing compared with getting his own little corner of Faerie to play with.”

  Floss shrugged dismissively and said, “No problem, then. They’d never agree to that.”

  “Even with Feron on his side?” I asked. “Because I know you heard your brother’s voice out there. He’s counting on ousting both you and Fred, by the way. Then I guess he’d be the only heir.”

  Floss huffed out a breath that sounded violent. She glared at all of us with fierce, bright eyes. “Damn him,” she said in a very gentle tone that scared me more than a screaming fit would have. But she seemed positive enough when she said, “But even with Feron on his side, it won’t happen. This is my parents’ life, Persia. They’re not going to give even a smidgen of it away. And if, by some unheard of chance they ever decided they didn’t want something, they’d certainly never give it to a mortal.”


  “Apparently they already have,” I said. “Major says it’s all set. As soon as we lose—and he’s willing to guarantee that, practically—he gets to share rule of Reginald’s land. Major’s convinced that pretty soon it’ll be all his, what with Reginald not being the brightest being inside of Faerie. Major’s talking about sending him to our world with a pocketful of pixie dust. In fact, Major, with Feron’s help, is the source for the drinks and dust that were bouncing all over the place just before we left.”

  “Huh,” Tonio said in a speculative voice. “Is that right?” He breathed in and out, then added, almost to himself, “I thought he was too lazy, so why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “Because he’s a nasty little bastard?” Nicholas asked.

  I glanced at him and raised my eyebrows, but Nicholas just shrugged one shoulder.

  Tonio said, “Probably just because of that.”

  I said, “Well, yeah, of course because of that. But think about it—why would Major lie, especially to me? I’m not important enough to lie to. And he’s so proud of himself he practically glows. After he gets rid of Reginald, Major says he can go anywhere.”

  Fred shook his head, a hard, positive motion. “It won’t work. First, he’d have to keep getting Feron to supply him with drinks and such. If he’s hoping to make a profit on that, he can kiss it good-bye. Feron isn’t the type to give anything away, least of all money. He’ll never deal. Second, even if Major manages to hold that little piece of land, he’ll never get more. Third, Floss is right. Our parents aren’t going to give out one single thing. Nothing,” he added in a flat voice, “to anyone, including Feron.”

  “Still if he’s working with Feron…,” Tonio muttered. “The two of them do seem to be adept at wreaking havoc.” Then he visibly shook himself. “But we have a show to put on, people. If we don’t do that, at least, they’ve already won and we won’t have even made an attempt to stop any of this. We won’t be here to try to do anything. So I repeat, work like hell.” He glanced at each of us in turn, nodded as if some unasked question had been answered, then said, “And make it fucking great.” And he was gone.