Spies Among Us

by L. L. Bower

  All the while, I try hard not to quiver from heightened nerves.

  I wait an uncomfortable length of time for the king to acknowledge me, and then I hear a soft snore. I look up to see his eyes are still closed. His beard flutters with each snort, and a drop of drool escapes one corner of his mouth to stick in his beard. I resist the urge to chuckle. Realizing this powerful monarch is as normal as I am settles my pounding heart. I use this opportunity to study him.

  His golden crown, which sits at an angle on his head, is studded with jewels and has a fleur-de-lis at its pinnacle. His hair is white, as is his ample beard.

  The king’s long robe is deep purple with a brilliant white fur muff around all of its edges, and squares of gold embedded in it. Behind him, his rainbow-colored wings emerge from the robe, and his wings and his skin are liberally sprinkled with gold glitter.

  Becoming uncomfortable, I switch knees, my robe getting tangled up in the move. Okay, what do I do now, without disrespecting the king?

  I clear my throat, but it has no effect. So I try again, this time louder and more insistent.

  The king snuffles, and I lower my eyes again. After a few moments, he says, “Oh dear. Calen, how long have you been waiting?”

  “I just arrived, Your Majesty.”

  He straightens his crown. “You’ll have to forgive an old man. I doze off at a moment’s notice lately.”

  Keeping my eyes on the ground, I remark, “No problem, Your Highness. Do you feel refreshed?”

  “Yes, now please rise, and let’s get down to business.”

  “Of course.” I get up slowly from one knee, using Noblesse as a supportive cane, since my entwined robe makes the movement clumsy. Then I stow my sword and raise my eyes.

  The king points across the room. “Bring that chair over here by me, so we can speak man to man, or numinal to human.” He chuckles. “I had that chair custom-made for you.”

  I look around and see a human-size chair nearby. I pull it over close to the throne, careful not to put myself on equal ground with the king, whose throne sits on a pedestal above me. Despite the difference in our elevations, our difference in height puts us at eye level.

  The king leans forward and looks me in the eye. His light-blue eyes glimmer like his wings. “Tell me about the hazards of your trip here. I hear you encountered quite a few dark ones in the Caliginous Woods.”

  I nod. “Yes, there and elsewhere.”

  He smiles. “I get out of this mountain so rarely that I must live vicariously through your adventures.”

  I tell him about my attack by the gryphon and our battle with the gremlins. I’m careful not to describe Rampart’s wolfish attacks, however. He gasps when I lift the hem of my robe and show him my gremlin bite, which is now just a jagged line on my leg. I go on to describe my encounters with the siren, the Sandman and the trolls.

  The king is attentive, and his eyes enlarge at the appropriate points of tension. When I finish, he remarks, “All that in one day?”

  I shake my head. “I’m afraid so.”

  “Your life is anything but dull as champion, isn’t it?”

  “I often wish I had more routine in my days.” I grin.

  “Then the gifts I’m about to bestow upon you are mere tokens compared to the dangers you have to face daily as our country’s hero.”

  I wince at the word “hero,” feeling I still don’t deserve the title.

  The king continues, “To show my appreciation, I’m giving you two pouches of highly magical substances that will aid you in whatever you endeavor, whether you accept my challenge or not.”

  Ah, so a mission is expected of me, and it sounds like the king is behind it.

  From the folds of his royal robes, the king produces a dark-blue pouch. “Inside, you will find pixie dust.” He raises an eyebrow. “Now, this dust has two uses. First, it’ll bring you good fortune if you find yourself in a sticky situation. Just sprinkle it in front of you, and your problem will be solved, often in a unique way. Second, if you sprinkle it on your body, you can fly.” He holds out the pouch.

  I take it and tie it to my belt. In proper fairy style, I respond, “Thank you. I am blessed by your gift, Your Highness, and feel unworthy.”

  “Nonsense, there’s no one worthier.” Then the king pulls out another, smaller pouch, this one purple. Handing it over, he says, “This is royal fairy dust. Use it wisely.”

  I remember General Warrin telling me that fairies have no dust. “Your Majesty, I understood from one of your generals that fairy dust was a myth—”

  “Yes, that’s what we tell everyone,” interrupts the king, “especially non-royal fairies. We royals keep its existence secret because there’s so little of it and it’s so powerful. Members of the royal family are the only ones who can make it from a special bush whose location is known only to us. That’s where Enlil and Starla are. They’ve snuck off by themselves, without a royal guard, to procure some more of the dust.”

  I roll the pouch over in my hand. “What does it do?”

  “Just about anything you can think of.” He smiles. “Your thoughts control its magic. If you want to shapeshift, just sprinkle it on yourself and think of the creature you want to become. If you want an enemy to vanish, sprinkle it on him. If you want to conjure an army, sprinkle it on the ground, and a magical army will appear. Its uses are endless, as vast as your imagination.”

  “Wow. I’m undeserving of such a trust, Your Highness,” and then I add, so I don’t sound impolite, “but I am blessed by your generous gift.”

  “Don’t be too quick to commend my generosity. You haven’t yet heard the reason why you need these pouches.” He sighs. “I wish I didn’t have to ask this of you, but the Creator says this war will not end well, and he doesn’t want to see any more of his children harmed or enslaved. Even though I heard that Crisa has neutralized Galdo, other dark forces are at work, more dangerous than he was.”

  I scowl. I guess we didn’t bring peace to Fairyland. “Like what or whom?”

  “Well, Natas for one, but we’ve heard of another magician who is gaining even more power than Galdo had.” The king frowns.

  I lean forward. “Who is this magician?”

  The king shakes his head. “I don’t know. He’s staying in the shadows and building an army.”

  “You’ve heard what Galdo has been doing lately, right?”

  He sighs. “Yes, the hummingbirds told me how he’s ordered attacks on innocent children by goblins.”

  I’m surprised at how well informed the king is, but I shouldn’t be. Crisa told me he was a good king, and a good king should have his finger on everything that’s happening in his kingdom. “Did they tell you why?”

  He shrugs. “I’m not sure anyone knows.”

  “I have a theory, but I hope I’m wrong.” I pause. “I think Galdo is making bogles out of those goblins.”

  The king gasps. “No, no, no. He’s never been that fiendishly clever.”

  “If you think about it, these are not random acts of violence, but carefully targeted assaults on infants and children in their own homes. How else could a dark sorcerer build an indestructible army so quickly?”

  The king strokes his bearded chin. “That explains why whoever is behind this is using goblins. They’re the most power-hungry of all the Fairyland races. They’d do anything to gain status and prestige, even if that status and prestige stems from evil sources.” Then he asks, “Do you know what else the hummingbirds told me?”

  I shake my head.

  “Galdo has learned to control minds so that he can force even light ones to do his bidding. He’s getting magical aid from somewhere because he’s discovered a spell that allows him to take over someone’s thoughts.”

  I think about the theft of Crisa’s spell books and how Galdo had a good period of time to study them and copy down some of the spells.

  “I think he learned that spell from Crisa’s library, which he stole when he destroyed her cottage. When we tr
ied to steal the books back, we caught him trying to bring his father Delbo back from the dead, using a spell contained in her library.”

  “Her magic is able to do all that?”

  “Yes, but now that Galdo has no magic, we don’t need to worry about him casting those kinds of spells. And mind control and bringing someone back to life are dark spells that Crisa refuses to use. She would never turn anyone into her slave, and she believes the Creator should have sole power over life and death.”

  He rubs his beard. “I must agree with her there. And you’ve helped me understand why the Creator is so concerned about how this war will end. The power behind Galdo’s words and actions has always stemmed from Natas and his legions, who’ll use whatever means to bring death and destruction to our lands as never seen before.”

  “How do we stop them?” I ask.

  He looks down. “There’s but one way we can be assured of safety and lasting peace.”

  “What’s that, Your Majesty?”

  The king looks up and reaches over to place his small hand on my arm. “First you need to understand our history. From the beginning of time, the dark ones have tried to annihilate the beings of light, although at first, we were greater in number and size and able to suppress their evil. The light ruled for a time.

  “But, as time went on and wickedness grew stronger, a few evil dictators enslaved and tortured us, although no one brought us to the point of extinction. The Creator says that’s about to change. The dark side, with Natas’s help, plans to rout all goodness from this world.”

  I gasp.

  The king continues, “But never fear. The first fairy king of old foresaw this possibility. Many centuries ago he, along with the royal magician, designed a way for the light to never be wiped from the face of the earth. Our ancestor hid some mightily powerful objects, imbued with a special kind of magic, in an inaccessible but secure place, even more inaccessible than our village. In the event of the threat of annihilation, these objects will guarantee the safety of the Creator’s people and rescue us from extermination.”

  I sit on the edge of my chair. “What are these objects, and where are they located?”

  The king raises a finger. “Patience, my boy. We’ll get to that. Just know that the dark side has no idea what or where these objects are. If you decide to accept this quest and they learn of your acceptance, you’ll have the worst of their kind to contend with. They’ll follow you to the ends of the earth in their determination to kill you.”

  “What else is new?” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I realize sarcasm is inappropriate.

  The king ignores my careless remark. “After the first king designed this protection system for us, the dark ones later learned of our plans through Natas, who has many spies roaming our world. They then captured and tortured one of our successor kings to the point of death to find out where these life-saving objects were hidden.

  “Only the first fairy king knew their exact location, so all the dark side learned was that no one but a human champion could access these special items. So, throughout history, the dark side kept a close eye on each champion and plotted to kill him. Have you ever wondered why they hate you so much, why danger seems to follow you like a shadow?”

  “I thought that just came with the job.” I sigh.

  “To a certain extent, yes, but the dark ones know that if you or any champion finds these objects, their days of domination are over.”

  “So what do I need to do?” I ask, wondering what impossible task the king will ask of me, a man who’s afraid of heights, spiders, dark places and evil spirits.

  The king leans toward me. “I’d like you to draw both of your swords.”

  “As you wish, Your Highness.” I honor his request, even though I don’t see where this is going. I pull my swords from their scabbards with the words “ready to fight” and place them parallel on my lap over my white robe.

  He points to the swords. “Look at their hilts, just below the handle. What do you see?”

  I stare down at their hilts and don’t see anything unusual. Since it’s daytime, the sculptured fairies on Noblesse are awake and moving. The engraved flowers have opened their petals to catch the sun, and Nobliege’s metallic leaves sway in an unseen breeze.

  While Noblesse’s sun shines on one side, as I turn the sword over, the moon on the other side is dark until tonight when it will light up and the sun will darken. Then the fairies and flower will go to sleep. Nobliege is plainer, with only a few flourishes and leaves on his hilt. Right now he, like Noblesse, glows with mystic energy.

  “Well, they are magic,” I say. “Noblesse keeps time with the cycles of our world. But she does that every day. Nobliege hums with energy when I draw him, and he works in tandem with Noblesse.”

  He tilts his head. “Does anything seem to be missing from them?”

  I look closer to see an almond-shaped depression that I hadn’t noticed before on Noblesse’s hilt, in a space between designs. Nobliege has the same round depression in the same spot. I turn over each hilt and see equal craters on their reverse sides as well. I run my finger over the dips on both swords to find they’re smooth and warm, instead of cold as metal should be.

  “That’s strange.” I frown. “I’ve never noticed those depressions before.”

  The king smiles. “Those are cradles for the balance stones. Every champion’s swords, since the very first champion, have contained those cradles, in case they were needed.”

  “Balance stones?”

  The king looks up and away in the distance. “The Creator envisioned our world as existing in a state of harmony and peace among nature, numinals and humans. Then evil magic entered the world and upset the balance. Those stones are the keys to bringing back the Creator’s initial vision to Fairyland and the human world.”

  “What do these stones look like?”

  “There are four stones.” He holds up two fingers on one hand. “Two white ones made of quartz.” He holds up two fingers on his other hand. “And two black ones made of onyx. They represent the dark and light sides of our world. When these stones are placed into the four sockets of the human champion’s swords, the darkness or evil magic in our world will be suppressed, and the lightness or good magic in our world will rule. Peace is supposed to ensue, as long as those stones remain in their original state on your swords.”

  “Why didn’t the first king have the first champion’s swords made with the stones already in them?” I ask. Wouldn’t that have brought balance to Fairyland initially and stopped the age-old war before it even started?

  “A good question. When the stones were originally designed, Fairyland was at peace, and the light side was dominant. While I don’t know for sure, I believe my ancestor thought the stones were a kind of insurance against evil ever reigning supreme. He hid them from the dark side because he was certain darkness would eventually try to destroy them. The spell that was cast over those stones only activates when evil tries to overwhelm the kingdom. Otherwise, they’re just ordinary stones.”

  “Where are the stones?”

  “Ah, that’s the rub.” The king points his index finger up. “While I don’t know exactly where they are, knowledge of their general location has been passed down from royal generation to royal generation. My information can take you in the right direction, but your swords will have to guide you the rest of the way.

  “The first fairy king hid them where they could be found and used only by the chosen one—you—if our world ever got so out of balance that our very existence was threatened. Not even another king can extract them from their hiding place. You and only you can complete this quest.”

  My pulse begins to race. “Are you saying I’m supposed to find some magical items that no one, other than the very first fairy king, knows the location of, and that I can’t take Crisa or Charles with me?”

  The king sighs. “I’m afraid so. You’ll need the Creator’s guidance to avoid the deadly traps along the path to th
e stones, and you’ll be risking your friends’ lives if they accompany you.”

  Wait a minute, Crisa is immortal and could go with me. “What about Crisa? She’s supposed to be immortal, you know.”

  The king shakes his head. “The Creator says she’s needed elsewhere.”

  I sigh. “Okay, but haven’t other human champions with other swords attempted to find the stones?”

  “No, you’re the first. It’s the first time we’ve needed such strong magic.”

  Oh, brother. He’s expecting me to do something that nobody else in the history of the world has done. Does he think I’m crazy? Do I have to remind him and the Creator that I’m just an ordinary clock repairman?

  Like he’s reading my mind, the king says, “The Creator and I both think you can find the stones, complete your swords and bring peace to Fairyland.”

  No fair bringing the Creator in on this. How do I argue with him?

  The king sits back. “Time is running short. While Galdo’s magic has been neutralized, the dark side, and particularly Natas, won’t give up. If the dark side is building a bogle army, I believe they’ll attempt an assault on this mountain very soon.”

  “I thought the castle’s location was a well-guarded secret.”

  “I thought so too, until a raven snuck into Craghollow. We don’t know when he got here, but we do know that he flew out through our front doors when you and your friends opened them today. General Warrin saw him.”

  “So did I. Was he a spy?”

  “Yes, ravens are Natas’s signature birds. He controls them. Perhaps the bird came in the back entrance, although it would have been a tight squeeze. We’re fairly certain he was sent here by Natas to observe our security and report back. How Natas found us is a mystery.

  “The raven flew over the castle, and our archers shot at him but missed. Now that the raven knows how to access our front doors, it’s only a matter of time before the dark ones invade our sanctuary. So you see how vital and timely your quest is to our safety and security here.”

  Just when I think I’ll say no to this crazy idea, the king says something almost makes up my mind.