by Nina Smith
“Are you hungry?” Clockwork asked.
She shuddered. “I don’t know.”
“Here.” He handed her a basket filled with berries and small, rock-shaped cakes.
Hippy’s very empty stomach growled. She tore into a cake. “Where did you get these?”
“The forest people gave them to me.”
Hippy almost choked. She swallowed what she was eating while Clockwork clapped her on the back, and got her breath back. “Forest people? You talked to them? They didn’t kill you?”
“Of course not. Fitz gave me a few things to tell them if I was ever caught. Really, they were very friendly. They mostly wanted to know what the pretender was doing with a fairy on his cart.”
“What did you tell them?” Hippy bit into a second cake. She was starving and the cakes were really good.
Clockwork grinned. “I said you were my sweetheart and I was here to rescue you from the muse king, who was holding you against your will. It seemed more likely than the truth.”
She ate a handful of berries. “Did they believe you?”
“They gave me food and showed me this place to stay,” Clockwork said. “And an axe.” He pointed to a stout, long-handled, double-headed axe with wickedly curved blades resting by the fire. “And they said we could go safely through the forest when I rescued you.”
Hippy investigated the weapon. “Nice.” She gave a disconsolate sigh and ate another cake.
“Is he starving you?” Clockwork demanded.
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Hippy blinked back errant tears. Even pregnant fairies didn’t cry. “He tried to give me blood soup. The smell made me throw up and he laughed.”
“Come on. We’ll kill him right now, take the Apple and go.” Clockwork reached for the axe.
“No!” Hippy put her hand on his arm. “We can’t. What if we killed him and it was the end of all Shadow?”
“You heard Fitz. That’s a lie.”
“What if Fitz was wrong?”
Clockwork poked at the fire. A shower of sparks went up into the darkness. “Fitz is the smartest person I know.”
“But are you prepared to take that risk?”
He sighed. “I don’t know. I guess you’re not.”
Hippy shook her head. “Not really. But listen, as soon as I have a chance I’m going to find the Apple of Chaos. Then we have to get out of here. Really, really fast.”
Clockwork chuckled. “He’s going to be a little bit upset, is he?”
“He’s going to be so mad he’ll eat his own face.”
The two fairies giggled. The fire crackled. Silence settled. Clockwork and Hippy laced their fingers together.
“Are you going to be okay?” Clockwork said.
“Of course I am. What can he possibly do, apart from play his mean little tricks and act like a complete ass?”
“I don’t know. The forest people said he took one of them to live in the Arch once.”
“Really? What happened?”
“They don’t know. He never came back.”
Hippy thought about the skeleton she’d seen. She felt ill again. But she didn’t want to worry Clockwork, so she quickly changed the subject. “You know what’s really weird? Nikifor. I think Pierus is doing something to him. He gave him this drink the night we left Shadow, to take away his fear. Now Nikifor’s really sick and he babbles and says weird stuff about consequences.”
The stick Clockwork had been playing with stilled. “What did the drink look like?”
“It was green. He didn’t want it, but Pierus made him.”
“Sounds like vibe.”
“Vibe?”
“It’s a Freakin Fairy drink.” Clockwork raked his dreadlocks out of his face. “Completely harmless to fairies, of course. It just used to give us a little bit of a laugh and make our voices go funny. But it’s a terrible thing for muses. It takes away all their fears, all their boundaries and rules. It’s like they suddenly have a direct link to all that inspiration out there. It floods them and they can’t handle it. But once they start drinking it they can’t stop either, or they go crazy and die.” He drew a line across his throat with his index finger. “Pierus stole the recipe from my grandfather when my dad was young. He was supposed to be trying to negotiate for more silver, but once he had that, he scarpered.”
Hippy stared at Clockwork, her eyes wide. “Nikifor’s going to go crazy and die?”
“If he’s been drinking vibe, then yes, one way or another. He could survive for decades if he has a little now and then, but if he doesn’t, he’ll have another day or two, tops.”
“There must be a way to help him!” Hippy buried her face in Clockwork’s shoulder. He smelled like wood smoke and leaves. She didn’t want to go back.
“If he went to my people, maybe.” Clockwork sounded doubtful. “But I’m more worried about you, Hippy. Let me go find the Apple of Chaos.”
She shook her head. “No. If you get caught there’s no telling what he’ll do. I’m going to find it tonight and come back.”
Clockwork turned her face and looked into her eyes. He looked very serious. “And if you don’t come back tonight? If something goes wrong?”
“Then I’ll come back tomorrow and tell you what happened. Don’t worry. I can leave anytime I want. He can’t stop me.” Hippy leaned forward and gently kissed his lips.
Clockwork closed his eyes and returned the kiss. Hippy let herself imagine, just for a minute, that this was her life and she could stay in the cave all night. It was a nice thought, but she felt worse when she ended the kiss. “You’d better think up a way to get us back to Dream. I’ll see you soon.” She hurried out of the cave before she could change her mind and stay.
She found the crevice and squeezed through it. It was a good thing she’d decided to end all this tonight. In another few weeks she’d start getting fat from the baby and wouldn’t fit down here.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Iron weights dragged from her feet. The night wrapped icy fingers around her ribs and squeezed. It was so very dark she couldn’t even see the ground, but she knew she was going the right way by the unerring dread that gripped her shoulders with each step.
The moon peeped over the turrets. Hippy shivered. She usually liked the moon, but here even that looked cold and unfriendly, outlining harsh angles on the castle she hadn’t seen during the day. When it rose higher, it flooded the plain with silver light.
That was when she spotted Pierus.
Hippy slowed her pace. Far across the plain he moved up and down in a regular pattern, dragging something over the ground, then returning down the same path, scattering things. She would have sworn he was gardening if his movements weren’t so like a weird dance, the way he would turn, the way the skirt of his long coat flared out.
She picked up her pace. The distance to the castle lessened. She passed under the Arch, where it was now so bitterly cold her teeth chattered until she’d left it behind completely. She looked over her shoulder at Pierus.
He looked up at the same moment. Their eyes met. There was no change in his expression, but he did not break the eye contact. Hippy experienced a horrible sensation of being pinned to the spot for three eternal minutes. She gritted her teeth, broke away and turned her back on him, but the prickling in her spine told her he watched her all the way.
She bolted toward the castle, but skidded to a halt again at the fountain. “Nikifor?”
Nikifor stood on top of the wall that divided the fountain, hair tumbled around his face, naked sword high in the air, transfixed by the moon. His eyes snapped to her when she spoke. He stared right through her. “I fear nothing,” he said. “Nothing. Not your dreams or illusions or lies. Not the blood spilled from the sky every time I open my hand.” He paced across the wall and dropped to the ground in front of her.
Hippy backed up fast. “Would you put that sword away? You’re going to hurt yourself. Or I’m going to hurt you. Either way you really should calm down.”
He stalked her movements. “Do you think I’m fooled?” His voice rose to a shout. “I know mist when I see it! I haven’t spent my life dragging your every vision kicking and screaming from the ether just to come to this! I know I was born to kill, to drive back the darkness, and that makes me just another foul creation of your twisted intellect!” He doubled over and uttered a hoarse, guttural roar.
Hippy fled inside. Gas lamps and candles burned in every room. She raced into the dining room, but it was clean. She checked the kitchen, but there was nothing there either. She didn’t even know what she was looking for until she stumbled into a small room that contained only a round table in the centre and two chairs. She slowed her pace. On the table she found a silver pitcher and two empty glasses; in the bottom of the glasses there were drops of green liquid. She picked up the pitcher and sniffed it. It smelled of something intoxicating, more intoxicating than coffee or Poppy’s brandy or anything she’d ever encountered. It confirmed her worst suspicion. At least Nikifor wouldn’t die in the next two days.
She backed out of the room and glanced towards the doors of the castle. Pierus was busy. So was Nikifor. Maybe there was no better time to find the Apple of Chaos and go, while they were both whacked off their faces on Freakin Fairy juice. She’d left Fangs scratching in the garden, she’d find her on the way out.
Hippy headed for the stairs, but she stopped only halfway up the first flight when footsteps thumped through the front door. She turned around, one hand on the railing.
Pierus’s hair, normally so neat and tidy, hung knotted over his face, the new white streak tangled into the black. There were shadows under his eyes and beads of sweat on his forehead. He removed his coat, but never took his eyes off her. “And just where have you been all this time, my love?” He walked toward the stairs.
Hippy backed away. “Out.”
“You are not permitted to go out. I thought I made myself clear on that point.” He mounted the steps one by one, like a cat stalking a little bird.
Hippy steeled herself. She was more than a match for the muse king. She wasn’t going to be afraid. She freed Fluffy Ducky from his pouch and let him run into the palm of her hand. “You leave me alone,” she said. “You’re not thinking right. I saw those glasses. You and Nikifor both drank the vibe, didn’t you? I don’t want any part of your madness.”
“You are my madness.” He stalked closer still. “Where did you go, Hippy Ishtar? Do you have a friend? Did you lie to me when you swore you were loyal?” He reached out and grasped the back of her head. His breath held the same intoxicating scent she’d found in the pitcher in the other room, but now slightly rancid.
She wrinkled her nose and pulled away. “Take your hands off me or I’ll smack you in the teeth.”
He brought his face close to hers and breathed in. “You smell like wood smoke,” he said. “Interesting little thing, my love. Bloody Fairies don’t know about the vibe, because they don’t talk to the Freakin Fairies. So how do you know?”
Hippy’s cheeks grew painfully hot. “Leave me alone.” She shoved him in the ribs with her free hand and ran past him down the stairs, only to find Nikifor blocking the doorway.
Pierus went after her, wrapped a hand in her hair and snapped her head back. “I asked you a question, Fairy.”
Hippy flung Fluffy Ducky at his face. Fluffy Ducky, who had apparently been waiting for this chance, curled his legs around, ready to latch on.
Pierus ducked his head, raised a hand and caught Fluffy Ducky in his fist. Then he smiled.
Hippy didn’t like that smile at all. She screamed so loud the gas lamps flickered. “You let go of my Fluffy Ducky!”
Pierus stalked over to a table and opened a wooden box. He put the struggling spider into it, closed the lid and locked it.
Hippy shoved Pierus away from the box and tried to tear it open. “Fluffy Ducky! Don’t worry I’m going to get you out!”
“Nikifor,” Pierus said.
Something in his voice made Hippy stop what she was doing. She looked from one muse to the other. “Oh, no you don’t.”
There was nothing of the Nikifor she knew in the muse who stalked her now. Hippy clutched the box to her ribs and backed away from them both. “Stop it, both of you. You’re not thinking straight. And trust me, I will hurt you.”
“But my dear girl, I always think straight. I plan everything.” Pierus closed in from her right, Nikifor from her left.
“Did you plan this?” She put her foot on the first step. Fine, she’d go all the way up and jump off the roof. There was always an escape.
“No. This is a diverting distraction. Put down the box.”
“No.” Hippy backed up three more steps. “I won’t let you hurt Fluffy Ducky.”
“Look.” Pierus put his hand into his pocket, then opened it. A wisp of something sparkly rose into the air.
Hippy’s eyes widened. “Oh, that’s shiny.”
Nikifor darted forward and knocked the box out of her hand.
“Fluffy Ducky!” Hippy leaped after the box, but both muses caught her by the arms. She kicked at the air, scratched any skin she could reach, even tried to bite the both of them, but it was like fighting air. The two muses carried her up the stairs and down the second floor hall.
Pierus kicked open the bedroom door. “Go play somewhere else, Nikifor,” he said.
Nikifor let go and backed away.
Hippy wrenched free of Pierus’s hold. He shoved her in the ribs so hard she stumbled into the bedroom and collided with a wall. For one terrifying moment she thought he was going to follow her in. If he did, she’d kill him, the future of Shadow be damned.
But he stayed in the doorway and just looked her up and down. “This is what happens when you forget you are my fairy,” he said. “If you find a way to leave this room I’ll feed you your spider for breakfast.”
He closed the door. A lock turned on the other side. Then a bolt slammed home.
Hippy threw herself at the door and hammered on it with her fists. “I want my Fluffy Ducky!” she screamed.
It must have been the early hours of the morning when Hippy woke up. Her eyes were still sore. There was nobody there to see her, so she’d cried herself to sleep in the big bed after exhausting her voice and her fists hammering on the door.
Moonlight bathed the bed hangings in silver and the floor with white. The door was still closed, but Pierus was curled up on the floor muttering to himself.
She sat up and searched for a weapon. She could put an end to Pierus right now.
His back arched. His hair fell over his face and he whimpered.
Hippy slid off the bed and watched him, uncertain. “Pierus?”
He raised haunted eyes, but she didn’t think he saw her. “Pandora,” he said. “You’re here. I knew you’d be here.” He took a deep, ragged breath and reached out to her, but remained on his knees. “Pandora forgive me. Forgive me my love, free me from these chains of ice.”
“I’m not Pandora.” Hippy circled him, keeping out of reach.
“Don’t you think I know you?” His voice cracked. “Don’t you think I’ve seen you pursuing me across the centuries, wreaking your vengeance at my heels, my every step? But this, this last is the cruellest of all, my love, take this fairy curse off me!”
Hippy paused with her hand on the door. “What fairy curse?”
He stayed where he was, his back to her. His shoulders shook. “It was so neatly done, it could only have been you. To show me my death in the Apple, the one thing you and I shared.”
“What death?”
“Cruel ghost,” he breathed. “Must I relive it every time I close my eyes? Every time I see you? Is this how you punish me for my crimes?”
“Yes, absolutely. Tell me about your death.” Hippy took a cautious step closer.
“She looked like you.” His voice turned to a rasp. “But she had green hair and she was with Nikifor. They’re going to kill me, Pandora. The darkness will finally take me. I
will know the horrors, all of them. Forgive me. Save me.” He dived forward, clutched her ankles and pressed his lips against her feet.
“Ew.” Hippy tried to move away, but his hands were like manacles. “Stop it Pierus!”
“Forgive me Pandora,” he said. “I beg you, forgive me.”
Hippy considered kicking him in the head, but then he started to cry. She grimaced. She’d never seen a muse cry. The creature at her feet was not the powerful, cruel muse king at all, it was a wretched shadow of him. The black core of her rage escaped her grasp, to be replaced with only pity and contempt. She sighed, sank to the floor and patted him awkwardly on the head.
He released her ankles and laid his head in her lap. Sobs shook his whole body.
Hippy absently stroked his hair and looked out of the window at the moon. A woman with green hair who looked like Pandora. Who looked like her. Her daughter, the child even now growing in her belly, was going to kill Pierus. Her daughter and Nikifor. Did he know? He must suspect it.
“Pierus,” she whispered. “If Nikifor is going to kill you, why do you keep him here?”
“I must keep my enemies closest of all,” he said in a voice so low she could barely hear it. “Keep them close. Keep them weak.”
Her hand stilled on his hair. Poor Nikifor. Poor, stupid Nikifor. She’d have to get him away from here when she was done punching him in the face.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Hippy woke alone. Morning sunshine slanted across the bed, warming her legs. The door was ajar.
She jumped out of bed, ran down the stairs two at a time and made a beeline for where the wooden box lay on the floor. The lid was open. The box was empty. Fluffy Ducky had got away. Her heart pounded in relief and she started a search of the whole bottom floor, calling for him.
Hesitant footsteps approached when she neared the front doors. Nikifor stopped in the doorway of the dining room. He looked fresh and rested, but for the shadows under his eyes. “Good morning.”