Bloody Fairies (Shadow)

by Nina Smith

  “He’s the muse king!” Hippy couldn’t hold down her outrage, even though Clockwork’s dad was every bit as terrifying as Clockwork had said. “He was there helping us fight the vamps all along. Why shouldn’t I trust him?”

  Mr Silver looked at Fitz.

  Fitz shrugged. “We tried to tell her. She wouldn’t listen. She thinks she’s in love.”

  Hippy’s cheeks burned. “I do not!”

  Mr Silver tapped her on the forehead. “Quiet.”

  “Okay.” She edged back behind Fitz.

  “Clockwork,” Mr Silver said. “Come here.”

  Clockwork trotted forward, keeping his head slightly bent. “Yes Dad?”

  “Take the Bloody Fairy out of here. I wish to talk to Fitz and Ana alone.”

  Hippy peered out from behind Fitz. “Can we go see Ralph the peacock?”

  Mr Silver’s mouth twitched. “Of course,” he said. “But don’t leave Clockwork’s sight. There are some things in my gardens you wouldn’t like to encounter.” The corners of his eyes crinkled.

  At the sight of that crinkle Hippy was only too glad to leave.

  Clockwork scowled. “It’s all your fault. If you’d stopped yammering we could have stayed and listened to what he was talking about with Fitz and Ana.”

  Hippy teetered on the edge of a marble step, trying to decide which part of the garden looked the most interesting. “Where’s Ralph?” she said. “What’s in the garden I wouldn’t like? Is it a vamp? It can’t be, they can’t come out during the day. Who’s that lady?” She pointed at the statue.

  Clockwork straightened his back and puffed out his chest. “That’s Aphrodite,” he said. “She was one of the Goddesses in Ancient Greece. As for what’s in the garden-” A wicked grin curved his mouth. “Wanna see?”

  “Alright.” Hippy bounded down the steps after him. “But can we see Ralph first?”

  Clockwork glanced over his shoulder, then slowed to wait for her. “You’d better stick close,” he said. “You don’t want to fall into the snake pit.”

  “A snake pit?” Hippy did a little delighted jump in the air. “What kind of snakes?”

  Clockwork set a quick pace down a path made of flat stones embedded into lush green grass. “Big snakes,” he said. “With two heads and fangs the size of a bearfly’s bottom. They’ll crush you as soon as look at you and then chew you up and eat you whole.”

  “Will not!” Hippy skipped over the stones behind him. “How can they eat you whole if they already chewed you up?”

  Clockwork stopped and spoke in an ominous voice. “You don’t want to find out.”

  Hippy stared at him. Then she giggled.

  Clockwork’s serious face only lasted for two seconds. Then he grinned. “Fine, no two-headed snakes. Just stick to the paths, okay?” He headed off.

  She followed for a few minutes and almost bumped into him when he stopped.

  Clockwork crouched down and put a finger to his lips. “Ralph’s over there.”

  Hippy sat next to him and watched the blue bird peck at a bug in the grass.

  “Wait for it,” Clockwork whispered.

  Ralph threw back his head and uttered a harsh, deafening screech. Then he fanned out his tail in an explosion of layered, gleaming eyes. Hippy’s jaw dropped. She’d never seen anything so perfect. “Wow,” she whispered.

  Clockwork looked satisfied that she was suitably impressed. He leaned forward and made a clicking noise with his tongue. “Ralph,” he called.

  The peacock turned his head their way. He took a few steps forward.

  “Ralph!” Clockwork clicked his tongue again. “Come here!”

  Hippy leaned forward and stuck out her hand too. “Ralph,” she called.

  The peacock turned his head to the side and eyed her. Then he ran toward them, head down.

  “Uh oh.” Clockwork jumped to his feet.

  Ralph made straight for Clockwork, screeched and pecked his trousers. Hippy shrieked and jumped away. Clockwork grabbed her hand. “Run!”

  The pair bolted, the peacock in hot pursuit. They ran from stone to stone, leaped a low, bushy hedge and then clambered onto the high marble rim of a tall fountain.

  Ralph stayed on the grass and screeched at them for a full minute before walking away, never taking his eyes off them until he was out of sight.

  “Yeah you’d better leave!” Clockwork yelled after him. Then he chuckled. “Actually he always does that.”

  Hippy balanced on the fountain wall and walked around it. Crystal-clear water welled just under her feet from a huge shell in the centre. A statue of a woman with no arms rose from the water. Clockwork watched her intently.

  “I want to see the snake pit,” she said.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “It’s not really a snake pit.” Clockwork switched paths and headed off down a line of red flagstones. “Actually she doesn’t live in a pit at all.”

  Hippy followed. The fountain was soon obscured behind them by a garden of hibiscus trees so tall a muse could have hidden in them.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the thought, but of course there was nothing there. She honestly didn’t see how Pierus was supposed to find her out here at all.

  Clockwork ducked under an arch made out of roses and skirted a garden choked with thick, woody lavender and straggling thyme. He beckoned madly. “Over here!”

  Hippy ran up behind him. “Wow,” she said. “She’s pretty.”

  They leaned on a steel fence that ran a complete circle around lush grass and a murky pool. Beside the pool, the most enormous reptile Hippy had ever seen lay in the sun. She was yellow and white. Her body, at least as thick as a good-sized tree, lay coiled all around the pool in intricate tangles. She eyed them sleepily.

  “Her name’s Doris,” Clockwork said. “She’s not poisonous, but she eats stuff whole. She’s pretty sleepy at the moment because two vamps got in here the other night. Dad fed them both to her.”

  Hippy’s eyes widened. “No way.”

  “Actually it’s true.” Clockwork leaned so far over the fence his feet almost left the ground. “My dad doesn’t tolerate vamps. At all.”

  “I wish I had a vamp-eating snake,” Hippy said. “I wonder if my dad would let me have one when I get home.”

  Clockwork turned his back to the fence and gave her an odd look. “You’re going to go home?”

  “Not yet.” Hippy couldn’t take her eyes off Doris. She was the most beautiful creature she’d ever seen, except for Fluffy Ducky. “I like it here in Dream.”

  “What about your family? What about the war?”

  “That’s why I’m here. To stop the vamps. You know that. You Freakin Fairies might not be at war with them yet, but if they overrun us you’ll be next.”

  “I thought you were here because you thought the muse king was in love with you.”

  Hippy scowled. “That’s none of your business.”

  Clockwork hugged himself and pursed his lips. “Oh Pierus,” he said. “My one true love. You’re so–so–so old!” He made a loud kissing noise.

  “Shut up!” Hippy tackled him, knocked him to the ground and brandished a fist in his face. “You take it back!”

  Clockwork laughed. “Or what?”

  “Or I’ll slap that grin onto the other side of your face!”

  “You couldn’t slap a bearfly into a waterfall.”

  Hippy cracked her palm across his face. Clockwork yanked her hair so hard it brought tears to her eyes, then pushed her. Hippy kept hold of his ear with one hand and hit him with the other while they rolled down the grassy slope, right into a row of grape vines trained along low wire runners.

  Clockwork landed on top and put a knee in her stomach. “Is that all the fight you’ve got?” he crowed. “I could get a better fight out of the peacock!”

  Hippy narrowed her eyes. “Weren’t you the one who ran away from the peacock?” She clenched her fist and punched him in the leg.

  “Ow!” Clockwork lost his
balance and rolled into a grape vine. Three grapes dropped on his head.

  Hippy sprang, but she’d barely had a chance to punch him in the ribs when a low growl sounded on the other side of the garden.

  Both fairies froze.

  “What’s that?” Hippy whispered.

  “That’s the reason we were supposed to stay on the path.”

  Hippy looked up, and up, and up. Over the tops of the vines she could see what looked like a brown, furry hump. The next minute, a big head attached to a snake-like neck thrust through the leaves and sniffed at them. It drew its lips back over teeth the size of daggers and snarled.

  “We should go now.” Clockwork grabbed Hippy’s hand and bolted. They ran through garden beds and trees and bushes, skirted the snake pit and finally picked up the footpath.

  The thing churned up the grass behind them in an ungainly pursuit, snarling and making horrible noises the whole way. Hippy ran as hard as she could. The spit from its mouth hit the path behind her like rain.

  “This way!” Clockwork dived over a bush, rolled on the grass and ducked under a stone sculpture of a man with a broken head rising from an ocean wave.

  Hippy pressed in there with him. “What is it?” she whispered.

  “That’s Crunchy the Camel,” Clockwork whispered back. “The singular most terrifying animal in all Dream. My dad keeps him because–well, I’m not sure why.”

  Crunchy snorted and snarled behind the sculpture. His hooves dug at the grass and he let out several irritated brays, then walked away.

  Clockwork let out a long breath. “Don’t tell my dad we went off the path.”

  “Okay.” Hippy punched him in the shoulder.

  They both burst into muffled giggles, which were interrupted by the loud clang of a bell.

  Clockwork rolled his eyes. “That means we have to go inside.”

  They came out from their hiding place, checked for any signs of the camel, then ran back to the house, up the white steps and straight through the double doors.

  Clockwork skidded to a halt on the polished floor. Hippy ran straight into him, then jumped back at the sight of Mr Silver.

  Mr Silver looked them both up and down. He walked in a circle all around them, inspecting them more closely. “Have you two been fighting?”

  Clockwork nodded emphatically.

  “Good. I’m glad you’re getting along. Go and get cleaned up for dinner, both of you. Hippy, I want to see you in my study in fifteen minutes. I imagine it’ll take that long for you to scrub off all that dirt.”

  Clockwork grabbed her arm and they left the room at a more dignified pace. “You’re in trouble now,” he hissed as soon as they were out of earshot.

  Fifteen minutes later, Hippy was scrubbed and cleaner than she’d been since the war started. She’d just experienced her very first hot shower, something she’d enjoyed despite the fact it was so wet.

  Now, however, little winged bugs did a crazy dance in her stomach. She felt sick. She’d thought her own father was scary before she met Mr Silver, but now she knew better. Not that she’d ever admit it to Clockwork.

  She stood to attention in front of Mr Silver’s desk and tried to keep her eyes down like Ana had warned her when she brought her back here, but it was really difficult. She wanted to look at the fire, because it was the only shiny thing in the room. And Mr Silver had just sat there staring at her for a whole minute now, was she supposed to say something?

  “Sit down, Hippy.”

  Hippy dropped into the nearest chair. Mr Silver looked very, very serious. But then he probably always did.

  “Do you know who we are?”

  “You’re the Invisible Army,” she replied. “Fitz told me.”

  “Do you know why we do what we do?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t believe any of that stuff about Pierus. He’s really very nice when you get to know him.” She hesitated, because the words felt untrue, even to her. “...And even if he did do bad things, he’s sorry now. He’s trying to help us get rid of the vamps.”

  “And you really believe this?”

  She nodded.

  “It never occurred to you that you were being manipulated?”

  Hippy twisted her fingers together and shrugged. “Why would he do that?”

  “Why, indeed?” Mr Silver studied her. “Why did he choose you to help him?”

  “Because I look like Pandora.” The words were out before she could stop them. She scowled. She should have said something better, like because I had a vamp-killing spider.

  “Pandora?” Mr Silver’s cheeks dimpled. He got out of his chair, came around the desk and sat facing her. “What do you know about Pandora?”

  “She was his wife,” Hippy said. “The Apple of Chaos sent her mad and they got banished to Shadow.”

  “That’s not entirely untrue, I suppose. What about after that? How much did he tell you?”

  “He said she ran off with someone else and started the fairy tribes.”

  “Also not a lie. And then?”

  Hippy shrugged.

  “You know Pandora was our ancestress,” Mr Silver said. “In fact the Freakin Fairies are her direct descendants. The other clans, including your own, are offshoots of ours.”

  Hippy scowled, but didn’t think it was a good time to argue.

  “Only we know the real story of what happened to Pandora.” Mr Silver rested his chin on his hands.

  Hippy finally returned his gaze, her interest piqued. “What happened to her?”

  “As you say, she ran off with another man. She freed herself from him the moment she set foot in Shadow.” He paused. “It is said before they went to Shadow, she and Pierus were almost always at war with each other. He insisted on controlling every aspect of her life. The women of our tribe would tell you she was hoping to have more freedom in her new world than she’d been allowed in Greece, but I wouldn’t know about that.” He gave an expansive shrug. “So she ran off with a wild man she met in the forest. He didn’t care what she did so long as she stuck around. They went deep into Shadow and lived together for about twenty years. She bore him twenty children.”

  Hippy nodded. Twenty was a lot, but fairies tended to have big families. She was one of ten herself.

  “But.” Mr Silver lifted a finger. “Pierus, it was said, was furious when she left.”

  Hippy nodded again. He’d said that.

  “He searched for her. In fact he never stopped searching for Pandora. Twenty years later he found her, older and wiser and mother of a tribe. He of course had not aged at all, for he and his companions had become the muses. The story says he couldn’t understand at first why she’d aged and lost her beauty, but he nevertheless begged her to return. She refused.”

  Mr Silver looked at the back of his own hand for so long Hippy began to squirm, wondering if that was the end of the story.

  “Then what happened?” she finally asked.

  “Her family had welcomed him into their midst, for they were hospitable,” Mr Silver said. “He ate and drank with them. On the day he left, he wished them all long lives and the best of health. He himself served Pandora a cup of wine, which she drank. She told him she hoped he would find happiness. Only when she’d drained that cup did he walk away.”

  Hippy’s heart beat an uncomfortable tattoo. She had a very unpleasant feeling about this.

  “His seat was barely cold when the cup fell from her hand and she choked and went grey. Then she fell to the ground, utterly dead, in front of her husband and all of her children. The cup she had been holding began to smoke. A hole was burned into the very wood where the liquid remained.”

  Hippy pressed a hand to her mouth to muffle the strangled sob that tried to escape.

  Mr Silver continued mercilessly. “They went after him, of course, but he was gone. Muses can make themselves scarce when they wish it. If you’ve ever wondered why fairies do not trust muses, that is why. That is where it all started. As for you, if you wish to ally yourself w
ith such a man, I cannot stop you. I have little doubt he is on his way here at this very moment. But you should walk into this thing with your eyes wide open, little girl. Pandora was the only woman the muse king ever loved. He has never looked twice at a woman since her. That is until now, if what my people tell me is true. I hope you’re prepared for what such an attachment with the muse king will bring you.”

  Hippy buried her face in her hands and took several deep breaths. She tried to compose herself. “How do I know what you’re saying is true?” she asked from behind her hands.

  Mr Silver got up from his desk and went to a bookshelf in the far corner. He returned with a small box, which he placed on her lap before returning to his seat on the desk.

  Hippy uncovered her eyes. The box resting on her lap was very, very old. Pieces were chipped away and broken, but it looked as though it had once been incredibly beautiful. Faint shapes were all that remained of carvings of women dancing and men with spears. Old, rotted leather straps and rusted brass buckles held it together. She took a sharp breath in. She knew exactly what this was without being told.

  “Open it,” Mr Silver said.

  Hippy very, very gently eased off the buckles and opened the box. Inside she found an equally ancient wooden goblet. The wood was so old it had turned dark, dark brown. On one side of it there was a hole surrounded by thin, burned edges.

  “This is all we have left of Pandora,” Mr Silver said. “The box that cursed her and the cup that killed her. They’ve been treated with fairy dust to halt any further decay.”

  Hippy gently closed the box and handed it back to him. When he took it, she went and crouched in front of the fire. She held her hands out to the warmth and tried to stop them from shaking.

  Mr Silver put the box away before he returned and crouched beside her. He said nothing.

  Hippy stared into the flames. Her thoughts chased each other around and around. Pierus lurked in the back of her mind, boring a hole in her thoughts with the intensity of his gaze. All the times she’d been frightened by a mere look or a word and ignored it. Ishtar was right, she was no kind of a fairy, to be so close to someone with fairy blood on his hands and not know it.