Faery Tales: Six Novellas of Magic and Adventure (Faery Worlds Book 3)

by Phaedra Weldon

“Smile,” she said to Korrigan.

  The changeling obliged, grinning wide enough to show his pointed teeth. His eyes slitted nearly shut, and the proportions of his face were very clearly inhuman.

  “Nice.” Roy thumbed the power off and tucked his messager away.

  Marny wasn’t too worried that Roy would try to do anything stupid with the images, like post them out on the ‘net. Stuff like that could be faked all too easily, and everyone knew it, even with someone swearing eyewitness testimony.

  “No more water features in the kitchen, ok?” Tam gave the changeling a stern look.

  Korrigan grimaced back, but made no promises.

  Marny hid her smile. Tam should know better by now not to try to bargain with the fey folk. Even she, who had only a fraction of the experience dealing with them, knew how tricksy they could be.

  “You guys go have fun,” she said to Tam. “I’ll make him clean up. I have the rewards, you know.”

  “Protein bars.” Tam sounded disgusted. He was probably just jealous he hadn’t figured out how fond of them the changeling actually was.

  “Go,” she said. “And be careful.”

  Despite her earlier words, Tam wasn’t going to sim for fun. Tam, Jennet, and Roy were headed back into Feyland. And no matter the growing fondness Marny felt for Korrigan, she really hoped they’d be able to get Tam’s brother home. Soon.

  “You be careful, too,” Tam said. “Keep the door fully locked.”

  Oh, she would. The Exe might not be full of faerie peril, but there was plenty of human danger. Everything from the fact that Tam’s mom could come home at any moment, which was more complication than threat, to the packs of gangs who roamed the crumbling streets, to the yellow-eyed smoke drifters who squatted in the abandoned building down the street.

  As soon as Tam and Roy left, she did up all the locks, smacking the deadbolts home and sliding the chains and bars across. Then she turned to Korrigan.

  “Race?” he asked, his bulbous eyes bright.

  “How about you clean up, first.”

  He groaned, sounding like a human teenager, but the vines curled into the ceiling and disappeared, and the waterfall slowly gurgled away down the kitchen sink drain.

  “Better.” Marny tossed him the second remote, then settled on the couch.

  “I shall beat you this time, mortal,” Korrigan said.

  He tried, too. For nearly two hours they raced and zoomed, and the changeling managed to push Marny to her limit. She was hanging on to her wins, but just barely.

  At last, back on the mushroom swamp course, Korrigan edged past her on a turn, and cackled.

  “Prepare to lose,” he said, his voice high with glee.

  Marny bit her lip and pushed her speed to the max, but it was too late. With a screech of triumph, the changeling crossed the finish line a moment before her.

  “Heehee!” he cried. “Victory is mine.”

  “Good job.”

  He’d worked hard for that win, and it was worth it to see the goofy grin on his ugly face. Who would have thought a faerie would enjoy playing screenie games so much?

  Then his expression sobered and he lifted his head, all trace of gleefulness gone. He looked dangerous now, like the fey creature from the Dark Court he truly was.

  “Someone approaches,” he said, his gaze moving to the wire-webbed window.

  Marny hit the pause button, cutting off the happy music tinkling from the speakers. The back of her neck prickled with unease.

  “Is it Tam?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

  “No.” The changeling screwed up his face. “Many men, with evil intent.”

  Crap, and double crap. Either a gang or the drifters. She’d bet credits someone had spotted Roy’s fancy red grav-car parked outside earlier, and drawn the wrong conclusions about what riches might lie inside Tam’s house.

  Reaching past Korr, she clicked off the lamp—a clunky brass fixture with old-fashioned wiring instead of a sensor plate. The netscreen sent a pale glow over them, the word PAUSED blinking like a silenced alarm. From the street below, Marny heard voices.

  Then the clomp of footsteps on the stairs.

  Crash!

  She jumped at the sound of splintering wood. Somebody yelled, then cursed loudly, and she guessed they’d gone right through the rotted seventh step.

  Her hand went to the knife strapped on her leg, under her jeans—but that was for closer fighting, one-on-one. It was not the right weapon to deal with a group assault.

  Her heart thumping out a heavy beat in her chest, Marny slowly rose. The locks on the door would keep the intruders out. She hoped.

  Korr gave her a quizzical look, and she held up her hand, signaling him to stay there.

  “Hey!” The voice was accompanied by someone pounding at the door. “We know you’re in there. Listen, just give us all your money, and we won’t come in and hurt you.”

  As if Marny would crack the door open and simply hand over any nonexistent cash. Must be smoke-drifters; gang members would be more clever in their approach.

  Which was good, and bad. Drifters were dumb, having numbed their brains with too much smoke. But it could also make them stupidly persistent when any normal person would go away after a while.

  “I am ready to fight,” Korrigan said, keeping his voice low. He flexed his clawed hands, a wild light coming into his eyes.

  “I bet.” He could be an asset, for sure.

  But it sounded like at least a half dozen guys were outside. One group on the landing, another down in the street. The two of them against six or seven drifters wasn’t good odds. Even with a scrappy fey changeling on her side.

  “Come on.” The banging on the door intensified. “We know you got cash.”

  “Begone, foul mortals,” Korrigan screeched. “There is nothing here for you.”

  Marny sent him a sour look. Great. Although it hadn’t been likely the drifters would simply leave, the chances of that happening had just evaporated to nothing.

  “Some kid,” one of the drifters muttered.

  “Bring it up,” another one said. “We’ll beat the door down.”

  A few seconds later, the door shook with the clang of metal on metal. The drifters had found something large to bash against the door; one of those big metal burn barrels, maybe. If she and Korrigan were lucky, their attackers would only dent the door some, then go away.

  But it didn’t feel like a lucky night.

  Clenching her hands, Marny quickly evaluated their options. She and Korrigan could retreat to the bedroom, maybe get out the window there and climb down the back of the building…

  But even if she could squeeze through, the changeling wasn’t able to leave the house unless Tam were with him. Dammit. They couldn’t escape—so they’d have to fight.

  With the constant clashing thud of the drifters at the door as a background, Marny pulled out her old messager and keyed in a quick call for help.

  Not to the police—they’d take too long, if they even came out at all. Tam said the authorities ignored the Exe as much as possible. And she didn’t want to risk revealing Korrigan.

  :Under attack at Tam’s. Help. Bring firepower.:

  Uncle Zeg would get her message and be on the way, hopefully with the big flamethrower he’d recently finished rebuilding. Her uncle was worth at least three or four of the drifters, and she knew she could take a couple. Korrigan would pitch in, and they’d repel the attack. They just had to sit tight until Zeg showed up.

  She almost messaged Tam, too, but he’d be in-game, and doubtless fighting his own battles. No, she could handle this.

  Probably.

  “Korr,” she said, keeping her voice low, “if they break in, do you have any offensive magic to throw at them? Not the jungle though—it could get in our way.”

  The changeling gave her one of his horrific grins.

  “I can summon any number of nasty crawlies to bite and sting our enemies, should they breach the walls,” he sa
id.

  “Good. Because I have a feeling things are about to get real.”

  Not that she thought the drifters would smash through the door, but she’d been keeping an eye on the shadows moving across the wire-webbed living room window. One guy had what looked like a big wooden club, maybe a baseball bat, and it was only a matter of time before he started swinging it at the glass.

  She bent and unplugged the cord of the old-fashioned brass lamp on the table by the couch, then stripped the shade off. In this fight, she’d rather swing something heavy at an attacker’s head than try to hit a vital spot with a small, pointy object.

  The yelling outside intensified, and two of the shadowy figures turned to the window. One of them lifted his club and swung.

  The first crack of wood against glass made Marny wince. No telling how long the window would hold.

  “Get ready,” she said to Korrigan.

  He flexed his spindly, oddly jointed fingers, and nodded.

  Another whack, and a spider web of cracks spread across the reinforced glass. It wouldn’t be long. She took a deep breath and widened her stance.

  The third blow shattered the window, square-edged pieces of safety glass flying into Tam’s living room.

  “Ha! Told you we could bust it out.” The drifter with the wooden club poked at the empty wire, then shoved it aside.

  He began to clamber through the wrecked window, but Marny was ready. She brought the lamp down hard on the top of his head, and he crumpled.

  “Dude. Why’d you stop?” His companion toed him in the ribs.

  A second later, a swarm of weird looking insects poured from around Korrigan and out the widow. Some of them paused to bite and sting the unconscious man, but the rest kept going.

  “Hey! Ow! Get off!” the man right outside the window yelled.

  Marny glanced at Korrigan. He was mumbling, his fingers moving in strange patterns, his concentration on the insects.

  Two more drifters tried to rush the window, which was stupid, because they couldn’t both fit through. Marny whacked at them with the base of the lamp. Various cries of pain issued from outside, and one guy ran screaming down the stairs. Still, most of the drifters were not as easily gotten rid of. They’d stopped trying to bang the door down, and turned to the shattered window.

  In the distance, Marny heard the loud cough and rattle of a gas car engine, and she smiled through the grimness of battle. Uncle Zeg was on his way. She and Korrigan only needed to hold their attackers off a few moments more.

  The gas guzzler pulled up with a screech of brakes loud enough to make the drifters turn. Marny struck the current window-broacher on the shoulder, and Korrigan sent a particularly nasty winged scorpion at his face. The man ducked away, grimacing.

  Outside the broken window, a gout of fire lit up the night, reflecting off smoke drifters’ yellow-tinged eyes and casting eerie shadows over the dilapidated buildings.

  “Want a taste of this?” Zeg’s voice called from the street. “I’ll give you three seconds to clear out of here, and then things are going to heat up.”

  Relief surged through Marny, and she tightened her grip on the lamp base. Her uncle was here, and the attackers were toast. Literally.

  Two more drifters pelted down the stairs, reached the street, and kept running. The remaining men looked at each other.

  “What now, Skeever?” one of them asked, glancing at the man who seemed to be the leader.

  “We’ll come back later,” Skeever. “After this guy leaves.”

  Marny narrowed her eyes. It was actually a halfway decent plan. Uncle Zeg couldn’t protect them for the entire night, after all.

  Another blast of fire from the street.

  “I’m running out of patience,” her uncle called.

  “Go.” The lead drifter roughly pushed one of his men, and the rest followed.

  They ran down the stairs, several of them still swatting at Korrigan’s persistent pests. Welts and stings marred their faces and hands, and Marny hoped the bugs had gotten under their clothes, too.

  Now that their enemies were fleeing, the adrenaline that had powered her faded, leaving a shaky sadness in its wake.

  Tam’s house wasn’t safe anymore, and her heart wrenched at all the losses he’d been facing. His mom taking off again. His brother stolen by the faeries. And now this.

  Uncle Zeg waited until the last drifter ran away into the dark, then, still carrying his flamethrower, slowly backed up the stairs. Marny didn’t warn him about the missing seventh stair—she didn’t need to. For a big man, her uncle was amazingly light on his feet, and constantly aware of his surroundings. He was pretty much her hero.

  Without even looking behind him, he took a giant step backward over the gaping hole.

  “You okay up there?” he called softly to them.

  “Yeah,” Marny said. “Nice timing.”

  He smiled, teeth white in the dark bush of his beard. “I try.”

  “Korr, make sure your creatures don’t attack my uncle,” Marny said.

  “They have already returned home,” the changeling said.

  She didn’t ask where home was. Probably some poisonous forest in the heart of the Realm.

  “Letting me in?” Uncle Zeg asked from the dented-in door.

  Marny set the lamp down, her hand stiff from clutching the brass base. She snapped on the kitchen light, then went and undid the locks. The metal door opened fine. Too bad the window was wrecked.

  Her uncle stood a minute, just looking at her, then set his flamethrower down and enveloped her in a big bear hug. Not many people could do that. She buried her face in his shoulder, smelling smoke and gas fumes.

  “Glad you’re all right,” he said, his voice vibrating through her.

  Two wobbly breaths, and she was better.

  “Yeah,” she said, stepping away. “We’re good. Uncle Zeg, meet Korrigan.”

  She gestured to where the changeling crouched, his bulbous eyes gleaming.

  “Charmed,” Uncle Zeg said with a nod. He actually meant it, too.

  Korrigan blinked, then smiled. “Likewise, mortal man.”

  As soon as her uncle stepped inside, Marny did up all the locks again.

  “I’m letting Tam know what happened,” Uncle Zeg said, pulling out his messager.

  “Good idea.”

  She was happy to let her uncle send the message. Her fingers still felt numb from the fight. Plus, she felt too sorry for Tam at the moment for her words to come out right. He didn’t need, or want, her sympathy. Life happened, and sometimes you ended on the bottom of the pile. Pity from friends only made it worse.

  “He and Roy are on their way,” Uncle Zeg said.

  “Good.” Marny set her hands on her hips and studied the smashed-out window. “He’ll have to move out—at least for a while.”

  “Yep. Drifters’ll be back, and more vicious than ever.”

  “Good thing your flame thrower works,” Marny said.

  “Well…” Her uncle’s smile was a little sheepish. “The flame part works great. The thrower mechanism leaves a little bit to be desired.”

  “What? You mean you couldn’t have shot fire at the drifters?” She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  Korrigan nodded in approval. “A show of force is often more impressive than the actuality.”

  “Then why the crawlies?” Marny asked the changeling. “Why not a big ogre or something?”

  “I have no dominion over those kind,” Korrigan said. “And I have no desire to be trampled flat beneath enormous feet.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Your insects seemed quite effective,” Uncle Zeg said. “From what little I could see.”

  It was true. Korrigan had come through for them in the fight, in his own peculiar way.

  The changeling lifted his head and sniffed the air.

  “Tam Linn arrives,” he said.

  Marny blew out a breath, letting the ache of pity go along with it. Tam would deal, a
s he always dealt.

  She heard his light steps on the creaky stairs, his pause when he saw the broken-out tread, then his quick rush up to the door.

  “Guys?” He tapped on the metal. “It’s me, Tam.”

  Zeg undid the locks and opened the door. Tam stepped in, his expression grim, and Marny decided a big, enveloping hug was the best tactic. After all, it had worked for her.

  “Tam,” she said, letting go when she felt he was ready.

  “Good to see you’re ok,” he said. “What happened?”

  “A couple hours after you and Roy left, we heard someone coming up the stairs. The smoke drifters. They said if we gave them money, they’d go away.” She grimaced at the door. “Then they tried to batter down the door.”

  “We fought them,” Korrigan added eagerly. “Mistress Marny laid about with her club, while I sent poisonous crawlies to bite and torment.”

  “Club?” Tam glanced about, looking for her weapon.

  “Yeah,” Marny said, pointing her thumb at the lamp. “One guy started coming through the window, so I bashed him. Between that and Korr’s bugs, we drove them off. With a little help from Uncle Zeg.”

  She could see the guilt in Tam’s eyes. But it wasn’t his fault.

  “They haven’t come back?” he asked.

  “Yet.” Uncle Zeg picked up his flame thrower. “But they will. Grab anything important, Tam, anything you want to keep for good. We’re clearing you out of here.”

  For an instant Tam looked lost. “This is my home. I can’t just leave.”

  Marny squeezed his shoulder.

  “Where’s Roy?” Uncle Zeg asked.

  “Waiting with the car,” Tam said.

  “Now that you are here and can accompany me, we may depart,” Korrigan said, oblivious to the undercurrents. He scrambled into the kitchen, hopped onto the counter, and began taking protein bars from the cupboard. “We must take all these. And the screenie system.”

  Marny felt a wry smile twist her lips. The changeling had his priorities clear, for sure.

  “Tam,” she said. “It’s not secure here anymore.” She hated the look in his eyes, but he had to come to grips with the fact his home wasn’t a sanctuary any longer.

  “But, what if my mom…” He swallowed hard, then continued. “What will Mom think, when she comes home?”