They were all groaning and holding various body parts. I grabbed Orland by the hand, pulling him after me while I ran. Once we were out of the alley and on our own street I stopped to take a better look at him.
“Are you hurt?” I asked, breathing hard not at the physical exertion but at the worry that Orland was injured.
“I’m fine,” he said.
We began to walk home, our house in sight, when Orland said, “Carmina, you’re great.”
I smiled and said, “Orland you’re crazy, just like your dad.”
When we walked in the house we saw him, Orland’s dad, standing in the living room carefully making his way through a book. Unlike a normal person, Artie stood or paced while he read, a man almost always in motion. He flipped a page before lowering the book to greet us.
Without knowing what came over me I ran to Artie and placed a kiss on his cheek. I’d never ever done this before. He looked surprised, his mouth suddenly becoming a perfect circle, and he asked, “What, pray tell, was that for?”
“For teaching me stuff, useful stuff I guess,” I said over my shoulder as I headed into my room to exchange my backpack for my overnight bag.
Why? Because a gallant knight fights the good fight, loves with all her heart, and then gets on with her life.
CHAPTER 13
Maddie was starting to get seriously annoyed. “Stories and stories! What’s the point? Where are you going with this?”
Fox shrugged. “I don’t know, Miss. I only know that it was time for that story to be told.”
Maddie was genuinely disturbed, but she didn’t know why.
“Maddie, are you listening?”
“What?”
Bennett’s jaw worked back and forth as he paced. Apparently the boys had managed to tear their attention away before her. “You need to pay attention and help us figure out what we’re going to do here!”
Maddie frowned. “None of you have been listening to me anyway. So what am I supposed to do?”
Lance wasn’t impressed. “Being angry isn’t exactly a change of pace for you. I’m not going to lose sleep over it. We have a job to do, Maddie Calvin, and so far you haven’t been helpful. Now are you going to help us figure out how to sneak into and out of a heavily guarded town without being seen, or not?”
Maddie didn’t say anything at first. She thought back to just a few minutes ago, listening to Fox’s plays, completely engrossed in the stories. Not paying attention.
Distracted.
“...Actually, I think I might have an idea.”
She suggested the plan and Lance dismissed it immediately. Gavin’s brow furrowed a little in thought. It was Bennett who perfected it, as he tended to do. By the time they’d worked out the details, even Lance went from thinking it was ridiculous to, begrudgingly, admitting that it was probably the best plan they had.
They decided to call Brand over as soon as they had figured out the details, and as per usual Fox came with him. Bennett explained their plan for a half hour, only interrupted by the occasional question from Brand or Fox. When he finished, Brand silently paced for several seconds while the four travelers waited.
Finally, he spoke. “Your plan is, in a word... ingenious. To the point I’m finding it hard to pick out any flaws, at least compared to other options we’ve considered. Fox?”
Fox shook his head. “It is brilliant. And I can assure you that my men will be up to the task. We too have a score to settle with these invaders.”
Maddie let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. None of them were sure that Fox or his group would be willing to take the—admittedly huge—risks required to make the plan work. With him on their side there was at least a chance for their plan to succeed.
Brand clapped his hands. “Excellent. It’s settled then. We will start preparing immediately.”
Lance nodded. “Mr...”
“Lord.”
“Right. Mr. Brand, we are on a timetable. The sooner we move, the better.” He looked at Fox. “That wagon of yours... you know a route out of this forest, yes? And it won’t take long to prepare?”
Fox nodded. “Yes, there is a road; a trail that must have been made many years ago. It is somewhat difficult to navigate, but was already cleared the first time we entered Lord Brand’s forest village. Even in the mud we should be able to make it through fairly easily. As for the wagon, do not worry on that score. Attaching the wheels is a simple matter, and can be done in about an hour if several men commit to the task.”
Bennett nodded. “This is good. If everything goes well, we can leave tomorrow morning.”
Lance looked around at everyone impatiently. “Well? Let’s move!”
Everybody started to go about their tasks. Before Fox got too far, Maddie had caught up to him. “Wait. Those stories. They’re from the past, right? Before the wars and the drought?”
Fox looked thoughtful. “I think so. You need to understand, I can’t control my visions, and I don’t always understand them. I’m not even sure they’re all true, or if they’re just... possibilities. Or perhaps they’re just from my imagination. It’s hard to tell sometimes.”
Though Maddie tried not to make it too obvious, she was fascinated by Fox. “Those stories your troupe performed earlier—none of them were about great events or anything, right? Everything seemed so... personal. Not like the sort of things King Arthur’s bard would remember.”
Fox raised his eyebrows. “Not all great events are made alike, Maddie Calvin. Sometimes we only understand how important something is when we have to.”
This didn’t sound very convincing to Maddie, but she bit her tongue. “Do you have any ideas for what you might do tomorrow?”
Fox nodded. “As it so happens, I do, though I want to rehearse some things before we go.”
While they were talking the wheels had already been reattached to the wagon. Fox’s troupe was busy sewing outfits in preparation for the next day’s plan. Fox walked over and gave a long whistle. Everybody in the troupe but the costume makers gathered around him, and Maddie was struck again by how much younger he was than almost all of them.
“Okay, men,” said Fox. There were women in the group as well, but they didn’t react any differently. “Let’s work on some performances. Perhaps something a little closer to our era, but before the wars. Let’s start with ‘Fae’...”
CHAPTER 14
Fae, by Katharina Daue
Arthur blinked several times. The clouds obstructed his vision. They were dark, soupy clouds; the kind you saw billow out of the chimneys of factories in the lower ground cities. Or maybe they were from the numerous factories that dotted the City’s lower levels. The coal clouds were puffing busily into the hazy air.
A thick-rimmed glass slammed down before him. The man with the eye patch that had watched him from the end of the bar now looked at him closely. “From the old geezer at table 30. Said it might help you catch the girl.”
Arthur looked over his shoulder and saw a man hooded in a thick brown robe made of wool, the kind that the outcasts of the Avalon Outlands wore. Arthur smiled quickly and turned back to his glass. The bartender, a pretty young woman with silver-blond hair down to her back, came back opening a bottle of old-fashioned sage. Her dark eyes widened when she saw the glass in front of him. Then her mouth stretched into a smile.
“Oh, you already have a drink!”
“I’m quick,” Arthur said with a side-smile. “Also, my grandfather helped me out.”
The woman laughed. “You’re not afraid to tell it like it is!” she gushed. “My name is Guinevra.”
“I’m Arthur,” he said. “This is a nice club. Top-floor, no ceiling.” His eyes checked out her smile and a smile came on his face, too. “You can see the nice weather for free here.”
“Lots of things are free here,” she muttered, and giggled. Arthur sipped from his glass and pulled out a few credits. She took them, and winked at him.
“You know when I work,” she said.<
br />
“I do,” he replied drily. Too easy, he thought. He paid and then left the bar. Somewhere someone started playing the gittern, and he was not the best at dancing, so he thought it was probably good to scoot. As he stepped down the narrow stone stairs, he could sense that he was followed by someone. It was a heavy, authoritative atmosphere.
“The Merlin,” Arthur said. “Don’t worry, grandfather. I’m okay.”
“We’re going to the Outlands, son,” the Merlin said. “I wanted to make sure you’re not drunk past return of dignity.” His sallow, square face smiled so that he pushed his chin to his neck. His eyes were hazel, but looked much brighter; they were fair like the eyes of the fae people that they currently battled in the Outlands. “Do you have your sword?”
Arthur touched the hilt of his fighting dagger. “It’s in there,” he said.
“Good. Let’s go.”
The Merlin towered in height, and his long robes shuffled on the smooth floor. His airship was parked by the club’s vehicle drop-off platform. Cogs turned and creaked on the platform that held the airship aloft, and the Merlin discharged the safety button. The ship started floating, and the platform whirred away.
“I’m not sure why you think the fae might attack us today,” Arthur said. He pushed his cross necklace below his chainmail tunic. “May the Lord save us, anyway.”
The Merlin bit his lip, but his smile came back. Then he groaned, looking at a plate hung by his airship’s door. “Ten credits? I only parked in the entryway! People nowadays!” He spat at the plate and pushed ten credits against it, so it stuck. “There. Come on, son.”
The airship was an old make, from the 240SX days, but it could still get to minimum speed limit, which was fifty kilometers per hour. The Merlin steered it through the expressway and then onto I-2, the highway that led to the Avalon Outlands.
“Thank the Lord that the Crusaders built a freeway to access Avalon,” Arthur said, and leaned back. “It would be a pain in my behind to walk the entire way.”
“You have no idea what I had to do in my youth,” the Merlin replied. Soon the airship was cruising on I-2. Arthur watched the city landscape turn into a desolate moor. Here, the hills of the Tor were endlessly rolling, and forests dotted the horizon. Arthur spotted an encampment of huts by the road, the crooked, handmade kind. The fae had to have been here. Arthur pulled out his cross and held it against the window to ward off the evil spirits.
“Are you sure we still have long to go?” Arthur asked, gazing out the window.
“Patience, my boy,” the Merlin replied. “One day, if you learn the virtue of patience, you too could become a Merlin.”
The Merlin steered towards Exit 3A and drove the airship towards a grove. “I knew it was here somewhere,” the Merlin muttered to himself. Arthur saw men crouching around campfires. This was the army. They had to be about two-hundred strong, he thought, enough to take down a fae encampment.
Here, the veil between the human world and the world of the fae was thin. The air was shimmery and thick, and you needed awhile before you felt as if you had filled your lungs with enough air. Arthur hated fighting on the front, because he never had his breathing mask with him.
He saw signs everywhere saying “Annihilate the devil!” He saw a poster of a fae man, his face bearded, and the rest of his body from his torso down the body of a faun. Some soldiers practicing their hand-to-hand combat tussled in front of the poster and eventually tore it. Then the captain of the battalion came out and shushed everyone.
“Do you want to give us away?” he scolded them quietly. “Quiet!”
“Hey man,” he saw a man with a joint in his mouth call out. He wore a bandana about his unruly dark hair and his vest was torn. “You good?”
“Yes,” Arthur said. He held up his hand when the man offered him his joint. He hesitated, wanting to take it. Then he smiled a bit. “Not my bag, sorry.”
He found a tree to sit down and opened his satchel. There was chamomile and lavender to cure his massive headache and his choleric humors. It also included some blueberry paste to keep his weight down.
The Merlin was speaking to the captain of the battalion. Apparently, the fae had been attacking all week and suddenly had disappeared. The veil between the two worlds was hanging on by a thread, and that stress was causing an electrical charge in the air. All the airships had to be towed to the nearest parking spot, Cove 2.
Arthur was keeping to himself and thinking of Guinevra. She was lovely, he thought, with her long, blond hair and her genuine laugh. Perhaps he had been too quick to think she was easy. She was friendly. She was like a light when he returned from the darkness of this war. He would marry her, he thought. Somehow, someday, when the war was over. After all, they had one thing in common: they loved to drink at a bar and have a good time.
“Wake up, sonny!” a man said next to him. Suddenly a bolt of lightning threw the man sideways. Arthur felt his own hand grappling his small sword, unsheathing it and holding it up. Fae. All around him the Avalon countryside exploded into a shimmer of light and gossamer veils. The veil was thinning from oncoming fae. Suddenly, the air turned pitch-black, as if someone had turned off the light.
“They’re coming!” a man screamed.
The Merlin, who had just reparked his airship, was seeking out Arthur, but the boy had disappeared into the crowd.
Arthur did not know what had come over him. The enemy was here, close by, and he could not see. He held his sword before him, his arm muscles flexing.
Suddenly, something dark and quick appeared before him. He could barely see it, but it was the shadow of something large, and fast. He decided to keep his sword to himself until he felt that the creature would attack him. He felt a hush beside him and he swung his sword around. There was a high-pitched, awful shriek, like that of a dying bird, and the creature sunk to the ground. Arthur wondered if it was an animal or just the shriek of a dying man.
Another hooded large entity approached him in the dark. He swung his sword again and the creature sank into the grass. Arthur suddenly felt an odd, hollow air lifting him high, and he was tossed a few yards away into the grass. He landed on his back, and he could feel a sharp stinging pain shooting through his thigh. He looked down and saw that he had cut his leg with his own sword. He opened his hand and waited for that warm rush through his hand that would produce a healing mist. But his hand was cold.
“Oh God,” he whispered. He held up his cross and into the air. He could sense the thick, unbearable air thinning, and he could breathe better. He tore off the hem of his tunic and started wrapping it about his leg. “Of course I attack myself,” he murmured to himself.
An image appeared before him, misty, like a dream. The hazy image was a female Merlin, looking at him with sharp, kind green eyes. “Protect yourself,” she whispered. “You only have one satchel of peppermint dust left... and they were discounted...”
Arthur felt his head spin. He could barely see out of his left eye. It was an illusion, he thought. The only Merlin on the battlefield here was his own grandfather.
When he came to again, he was lying in some kind of cavern. He heard the dripping sound of water being wrung out from a rag. He opened his eyes. He saw the finely molded face of a young girl, not much younger than himself though, wringing out a strange purple towel. She was wearing goggles on her head, and her hair was a silky rich brown that went past her hips. Arthur watched her finish wringing the towel, and then she came over. He thought she was lovely. Then he noticed it. She was barely five foot, and her eyes were rain-colored and pale, not dark like those of the human blood.
“Fae,” he said. “You’re a fae, aren’t you?”
“I’m trying to save your leg,” the girl replied. “Would you lay down?”
“I am lying down,” he replied. “And you?”
“Nothing you should be worried about,” she replied, smiling deviously. He thought she was the loveliest creature.
“What is your name?” he asked.
“I won’t tell,” she said. “Nothing personal. Fae just don’t tell you what they’re called.”
Arthur wondered if a Merlin was nearby to save him from the fae, but he thought, lying here and being nursed, that he did not want to be saved. When she had dressed his wound, he walked outside, and looked at the green countryside. A bright yellow sun shone sharply in the sky. It was much brighter than the one in the human world, and sent gliding rays and shadows across the meadows. That was strange, he thought. He had not seen the sun in the human world for a very long time, not since the new factories were introduced. There were many fae out here, working on wide fields full of strange crops he had never seen before. No one seemed to see him, and if they did, they did not make a move to hurt him.
“What is that?” he asked the nameless fae.
“That is wheat,” the fae replied. “When the veils get thick over by the Glastonbury Tor, the plants grow faster. The humidity allows for a quick harvest.” She pointed at a cloister on the hill, surrounded by haze much like in Arthur’s world. “The sisters offer us food and shelter if we get too tired. We work for a marcher lord.”
Arthur looked down onto his feet, bound by metal boots, and then looked at the little thing standing close next to him. Her hair was a bit lighter now that they stood outside in the field, and shone like a sandy crown. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me your name?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Suit yourself.” Arthur turned back to the field of workers. The air here was fresh, and free. He said, “I have to go back home.”
“I know,” she said. She pulled the goggles down on her eyes. “I can’t see in your world. It’s too dark, and the air is too thick. But I know a small tear in the veil where I can help you through. I can kick you through, too.” She looked at the response on his face carefully and then added, “Just kidding! But I can show you, really.”
Here the air became thick again, and Arthur heaved for air. The little girl peered at him through her goggles and then led him through a forested way. Her voice sounded lower now, as if she had become older. “The world to the mechas is hard to reach for us younger fae,” she said. “Our kind is dying out, too, in our world…the old folk.”
Tales of the Once and Future King Page 13