Wings

by E. D. Baker

  The woman swung her head around and glanced down at Tamisin. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m sorry! I …”

  Three bright lights no bigger than Tamisin’s little finger darted past. She cringed when the snake woman opened her mouth and hissed. Long white fangs curved from her upper jaw, and Tamisin could have sworn she saw drops of venom on their tips. In a flash, the snake woman lunged at the lights, dumping Tamisin out of her coils onto the ground. The little lights bumped into one another, then fled over the undulating grass.

  “Thtupid fairieth,” said the woman, turning back to Tamisin. “They’re thuch a nuithance. They probably think I’m going to eat you.”

  “You wouldn’t, would you?” Tamisin said with a mouth so dry that the words came out in a whisper.

  “Of courthe not!” said the snake woman, her eyes flaring with indignation. “I don’t do that kind of thing anymore. I admit that I uthed to enjoy frightening people and I relithed the occathional thpirited thnack, but a girl geth lonely after a couple of centurieth. Now I jutht want to have thomeone to talk to, thomeone who won’t run off when he theeth me. I’ve been lonely for motht of my life and I’m tired of it.” The snake woman glided toward Tamisin, lowering her head until they were the same height. “You aren’t afraid of me, are you?”

  “You are a little scary,” Tamisin admitted as she struggled to her feet.

  The woman’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t mean to be,” she said. “I can’t help being different. I wath born thith way.”

  Tamisin couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. While tears trickled down the snake woman’s cheeks, Tamisin reached into her purse for a tissue, but all she could find was a pink bandanna. “Here,” she said, offering it to the woman. “You can dry your eyes with this.”

  “You’re giving thith to me?” she asked, appearing incredulous.

  Tamisin nodded since she didn’t really want it back.

  The woman sniffed and patted her eyes. “No one’th ever given me a gift of her own free will before! Thank you.”

  Tamisin stepped back when the woman looked as if she wanted to give her a hug. “You know, you wouldn’t be so scary if you didn’t hiss at people or show your fangs.”

  “Oh,” the woman said, looking surprised. “I hadn’t thought of that.” Pulling her lips over her teeth, she leaned toward Tamisin and said, “Ith thith better?”

  The tips of her fangs still showed. Tamisin shook her head. “Not really,” she said, and she began to back away.

  The woman followed, her head only a few feet above Tamisin’s. “Pleathe help me,” she said as a big tear trickled down the side of her nose. “I really want to know what to do.”

  “You’re still hissing,” Tamisin replied. “Maybe a good speech therapist could help.” The rattle vibrated again, making her jump. “And don’t shake your rattle. That’s really scary.”

  “Oh, right,” said the woman, but her rattle continued to shake. Muttering to herself, she grabbed the end of her tail with both hands. “It’th a nervouth habit.”

  “Habits are made to be broken,” said Tamisin. “I’m sure you can if you try.”

  Peering into the grass around her, Tamisin tried to decide what to do. In a world where everything was strange and often threatening, she was beginning to think that Jak wasn’t so bad. He was familiar and had never hurt her, even if he had been sent to kidnap her. She knew that she didn’t want to go anywhere with the goblin that Tobi had called Nihlo, nor could she stay in the sea with the snake woman. And Jak had promised to take Tamisin to the fairy queen, even though it meant going against his uncle’s wishes.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to go now,” she told the snake woman. “I need to find my friend.”

  “I can go with you, if you’d like.” The snake woman sounded as eager as a small child who’s offered a special treat. “No goblinth will bother you if I’m around.”

  “I’m not sure which way to go from here,” Tamisin said.

  “No problem,” said the woman, rising up on her tail. “I can thee your trail. And look, that mutht be your friend at the edge of the grath. He’th lying down. Maybe he’th taking a nap.”

  The woman slithered beside Tamisin as they forced their way through the grass. Butterflies fluttered past and a swallow skimmed the rustling sea, but suddenly Tamisin was too worried about Jak to notice them. Jak wouldn’t be taking a nap; if he was lying down, something must be terribly wrong.

  Chapter 20

  Jak lay with his feet in the grass, his head pillowed on the root of an old maple. The fight had been brief. He and Nihlo had been parrying with their knives, and his cousin had nicked Jak’s arm just above the elbow. A moment later, Jak was sprawled on the ground, as weak as a newborn kitten. The fast-acting poison on Nihlo’s blade had left Jak fully conscious, yet feeling as detached as if his emotions belonged to someone else. It also left him unable to do more than blink while Nihlo wondered aloud how long he’d have to wait for the boar goblin to bring Tamisin back. And then the goblin was back, tearing through the grass, whimpering that he’d seen a lamia. A moment later they had fled into the forest, leaving Jak to the mercy of the denizens of the sea.

  Then the cats returned, licking his face and brushing against him. He couldn’t move when one rubbed his mouth, leaving him with loose fur on his lips and in his nose. And then the cats ran off, too.

  The grass swooshed in the sea just past his feet. Someone was coming. Jak immediately recognized the sound for what it was, having spent many sleepless nights as a child imagining what the lamia’s approach would be like. When he heard Tamisin talking as well, he decided that the poison was making him hallucinate. He was sure that if his mind had been clearer, he would have felt guilty for not having told Tamisin about any number of things—the lamias, his mission to get her, and how he had never meant her any harm. He would have felt sad, too, for she was most likely dead by now.

  “Jak!” cried his hallucination, sounding exactly like Tamisin.

  A few seconds passed while he went cross-eyed, staring at the praying mantis that had come to investigate his nose. Then a strong hand gripped his shoulder and flipped him onto his back. “He’th thtill alive,” said a beautiful woman with long dark hair, who, strangely enough, had her lips pulled over her teeth so at first he thought she didn’t have any.

  “Oh, Jak, I was so frightened. I thought you were dead!” exclaimed Tamisin’s voice, and he felt two warm hands cradle his cheeks and turn his head to the side, where, to Jak’s great joy, he could actually see her face. He thought she was the loveliest sight he had ever seen, and he would have told her so if only he could get his mouth to work. Somehow, even blinking was getting difficult. In a halfhearted way, Jak wondered how long it would take his eyeballs to dry out if he could no longer blink.

  Some not-too-gentle fingers poked Jak’s arm. “He’th been poithoned,” said the dark- haired woman. “Thee that blue thtuff? He’ll be dead in a few minuteth if we don’t do thomething.”

  Jak watched as Tamisin turned to look at the woman. She is so beautiful, he thought and wondered why she was starting to cry.

  “Do you have any ideas?” Tamisin asked the woman.

  “Don’t look at me,” the woman replied. “I know how to put poithon in, not take it out.”

  “You’re being so brave, Jak,” Tamisin said, turning back to gaze into his eyes and brush the ants from his face. “I was furious when I thought you’d tricked me, but I see now that you would give your life for me. You never meant to hurt me, I’m sure of it. I have to do something to help you. Maybe I can draw the poison out with my lips.”

  “That’th a terrible idea!” said the woman. “Then you’ll both be dead and I won’t have any new friendth.”

  Tamisin’s face lit up as she looked at the woman, making Jak happy in a distant sort of way that she no longer looked so sad. “New friends? That’s it! I know what we should do! I don’t mean to be rude, but would you mind waitin
g in the sea? I’m going to call someone and I don’t want to scare him off.”

  “Thure,” said the woman. “But I’ll be right here if you need me.”

  Tamisin frowned as she waited for the woman to leave. “What was his name?” she murmured. “Oh, yes.” Raising her head, she turned to face the forest and called out in a loud, clear voice, “Herbert! I need you!”

  “It’s about time,” said a voice from somewhere behind Jak.

  A twig snapped in the forest and Jak thought that Tamisin looked surprised. “You’re already here?” she said. “How did you know that I needed you?”

  Jak couldn’t see the newcomer, but he heard him snort and say, “I’ve been waiting here for you ever since you left the forest. I knew you’d come back sooner or later. The attraction between us is too strong for you to stay away.”

  It occurred to Jak that he knew who it was; only a unicorn would talk like that, and they had met one that very day. If he could have moved, Jak would have stood up and put the overdressed horse in its place.

  “There’s no attraction,” Tamisin said. “I need you to—”

  “You couldn’t get along without me, could you? I must admit, I am a fine specimen of unicorn flesh. My mother always told me, ‘Lester’—that’s my brother’s name, but she never could tell us apart—‘Lester,’ she’d say, ‘you’re a fine—’ “

  “Would you please just listen to me?” said Tamisin. “I need you to help my friend, please. He has poison in him and we have to get it out.”

  Jak could hear the unicorn coming toward him and suddenly he was there, breathing into his face. “Say, isn’t this the goblin boy who was so rude to me?” said Herbert. “I don’t want to touch him. Look at his eyes. I think he wants to hurt me.”

  Tamisin frowned at the unicorn. “Don’t be ridiculous. He can’t even move. He’s not going to do anything to you. Please, just bend down and touch him with your horn or whatever it is you do. And hurry. He doesn’t have much time.”

  There was a swooshing sound in the sea. “Ith he better yet?” called the woman.

  The unicorn gasped and his eyes seemed to glaze over. “Who is that enchanting creature?” he whispered out of the corner of his mouth. “Is she a friend of yours?”

  “I guess you could say that,” Tamisin said. “I’ll introduce you if you’ll tap Jak with your horn.”

  “Yeah, yeah, a light tap,” said the unicorn. Sparing Jak only the briefest of glances, he bopped him on the head with his horn before turning back to the woman.

  There was a tingling sensation in Jak’s arms and legs. His hands and feet felt as if they were on fire. He wondered if this was another part of the hallucination or if he was about to die.

  The unicorn was making soulful eyes at the woman when Tamisin asked him, “Are you afraid of snakes?”

  “No,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

  Tamisin grinned. “It doesn’t matter. Herbert, I’d like you to meet my friend … I’m sorry, I never did get your name.”

  “Lamia Lou,” said the woman, and Jak could hear her slithering out of the grass. Herbert’s only reaction was to wuffle his lips and take a step closer.

  “Hello, Herbert,” Lamia Lou said.

  “Hello, gorgeous!” said the unicorn, his brown eyes flashing.

  Just before he passed out, Jak decided that he had been hallucinating after all.

  Jak had come to while Tamisin was telling the lamia that they were trying to reach the fairies’ forest by circling the sea. The snake woman had insisted that she would take them across it herself. They’d waited while she bid Herbert, the unicorn, a heartfelt farewell. Jak could barely stand when the lamia offered to let them ride on her snaky tail and Tamisin had to help him climb on, but he felt a lot better when Tamisin climbed on behind him and wrapped her arms around him. She’d told him that she was still mad at him, but he was too fuzzy-headed to worry about it. Nor did he worry about Tobi, who had disappeared during Jak’s fight with Nihlo. No matter what happened, Tobi always seemed to reappear, unhurt.

  If Jak had felt stronger, he would have found the beginning of their trip across the sea exciting as the grass flashed past and birds shot into the sky at their approach. By the time his strength returned enough that he was able to sit up on his own, he realized that he couldn’t see above the grass, and so had no way to judge time or distance. He grew bored even though the snake woman was very good- natured, telling them about the birds flying above them, the creatures that lived in the grass, and, eventually, what she could see of the forest ahead. She didn’t stop to let them off until she was within easy walking distance of the Old Forest, but she left as soon as Jak and Tamisin slid off her back.

  Now that they’d reached the forest where the fairies lived, Tamisin began to look nervous. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” she said. “What am I supposed to do—walk in and say, ‘Hi, I’m part fairy. I need the queen’s protection because I have goblins chasing me’?”

  “Something like that,” said Jak. “We don’t have much choice.”

  Tamisin shrugged. “I suppose. It’s getting late though. It’ll be dark in a few hours. Why don’t we come back and see her tomorrow?”

  “We’ve come all this way to see her and we’re not turning away now. Besides,” Jak said, glancing back the way they’d come, “our ride just left.”

  Although the forest fronted the rippling grass for as far as they could see, there weren’t very many places where someone could enter the fairies’ domain. The trees grew so close together that they resembled a solid wall of bark and leaves. From where Jak and Tamisin stood, it looked as if there was only one opening.

  They waded through the shorter grass that lapped at the shoreline. As they drew closer, they could see that a path led into the forest. They had scarcely set foot on the path when a hideous bearlike monster jumped out from behind a tree and roared at them. It was big and burly and half covered with a dense coat of fur. Its face was so contorted that its eyes were nearly shut. Tamisin screamed and jumped back when the monster gnashed its fangs and flailed at her with its horrible claws, but Jak wasn’t as easily intimidated.

  “Bruno, is that you?” he asked, peering at the monster.

  The monster unscrunched its terrifying face and opened one eye wider, revealing a warm brown color. “Jak?” it said, opening the other eye. Suddenly it looked a lot friendlier. “Hey there! Good to see you’re back.”

  “What are you doing here?” asked Jak.

  Bruno rubbed one of his bearlike ears and grunted. “I’m a guard now. They offered me the job right after I left the island. Who’s your friend?”

  “What are you doing?” grated a gnome with a white beard and red cheeks as he stepped out from behind a tree. The pair of spectacles dangling from a string tied around his neck bounced against his chest as he walked. Crossing his arms over his potbelly, he planted his feet and glared at Bruno. “You’re supposed to scare away intruders, not start a conversation!”

  “Sorry, Mr. Leadless,” grumbled Bruno. “I’ll do better next time.”

  The little man’s face flamed red and a vein bulged in his forehead. “There will be no next time if you don’t do better this time! Now try again.”

  “But Jak here is an old friend of mine and …”

  “I don’t care if he’s your great-aunt Peachbottom. Do your job and scare him off!”

  “Actually,” said Jak, “we’re here to see the queen.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so?” the gnome said. “That makes you just like everybody else! Bruno?”

  “Sorry, guys. Gotta do my job.” The bear goblin drew himself up to his full height so that he towered over them. Taking a deep breath, he waved his paws in the air, scrunched his face to make it look hideous again, and roared so loudly that Jak’s ears hurt.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” A shirtless man wearing shaggy white pants popped out from behind a tree. Tamisin found herself staring when she realized that he wasn’t rea
lly a man, but a satyr, just like she’d seen in books. Small horns protruded through his curly hair, and his legs resembled a goat’s, angled backward and ending in the same kind of split hooves. A set of pan pipes dangled from a strip of leather tied around his neck.

  “It’s the goblin’s fault,” grumbled Leadless. “He wasn’t doing his job.”

  “That may be so, but it’s your responsibility to keep out …” The satyr’s voice trailed off when a swarm of twinkling lights darted out of the forest to flutter around him. They must have said something, because he stopped to listen, then glanced at Tamisin. “Well, I’ll be …,” he said. Reaching for his pan pipes, he played a short melody. A moment later another tune answered his from somewhere in the forest. “You may pass,” the satyr told Tamisin. “But the goblin has to stay here.”

  “You mean me?” Bruno asked, scratching his head.

  “No,” said Jak. “He means me.”

  “Why are you letting her go?” said the gnome. “You know the rules. No unexpected guests without official business may pass unless—”

  “The girl is expected,” said the satyr. “If you’d wear your spectacles, you’d understand why.”

  “What do my spectacles have to do with anything?” the gnome asked even as he set them on his nose. “The girl is just … Oh, my!” he said, and his ruddy cheeks turned even redder.

  “But I don’t want to go without Jak,” protested Tamisin.

  “Go ahead,” Jak said. “I’ll wait right here.”

  The satyr gestured to Tamisin. “The fairies will take you where you need to go.”

  “Where is that?” Tamisin asked as the twinkling lights surrounded her.

  “To talk to Titania, of course,” said the satyr. “Isn’t that who you came to see? Now go! Go! We’ll watch your goblin!”