by Brandon Mull
What if the roof caved in? What if it got so narrow she became fully stuck, unable to proceed or retreat? The little tunnel went deeper, the angle of descent steepening. Inching forward became easier, but she wondered if backing up the incline would even be possible.
The tunnel finally ended at another hole. The only way in was headfirst. Even with her fairykind sight, she could not perceive the ground in the dimness, maybe because it was dark soil like in the tunnel. She reached into the hole but could not feel the ground. How far was the drop? Five feet? Ten? A hundred?
Dropping into the hole seemed like a horrible idea. Trying to squirm out backwards felt much more sensible, even though it would be difficult. Where was she supposed to draw the line with bad ideas? If the worst way to proceed was jumping off a cliff onto jagged rocks, would she do it? Wasn’t that going beyond choosing the worst direction to travel? Wasn’t that just being absurdly reckless?
Scooting into the hole in a tunnel with an uncertain drop seemed suicidal. It struck her as a likely way to break her neck.
But in order to find Risenmay, she was supposed to always disobey her instincts.
Perhaps if she disobeyed too well it would kill her. Was she taking the idea too far? Disobeying all common sense?
Kendra scooted into the hole, trying to brace herself against the sides to keep from falling fast. And suddenly there were no sides. And she was falling.
Kendra shrieked and slowly spun in the air, deliberately trying to land on her feet. During a period of rapid acceleration she was able to think about the fall and fear for her life. It was a long drop.
The impact of the water shocked her. She hit feetfirst, sinking deep but not touching the bottom. She stroked upward, reached the surface, and gulped air. The water was still, the room dim. She could not see walls in any direction.
Treading water, her clothes billowing as she moved, she thought about which direction felt worse. Seeing only more water in all directions, she had almost no sensory input to go by, but one way gave her an uncomfortable feeling. The feeling persisted and even grew as she stroked in that direction.
She tried to stay calm. Kendra had never been entirely comfortable with swimming, and being weighed down by her clothes was an odd sensation. She wondered if she should try to take off her shoes, but thought the effort might make her sink, and for now she was staying afloat.
In time, the shore came dimly into view. Heading to the lakeshore felt inexplicably like a bad idea, so she went there. Kendra emerged dripping wet, shivering in the cool air of the cavern. She spent a moment wringing her clothes out as best she could.
Now she could see the wall of the cavern, including the opening to what might be a tunnel or a cave. She also had room to proceed along the lakeshore in either direction. Something about the tunnel gave her an uncomfortable feeling. It seemed like it must be the lair of some animal or monster.
The more she thought about going into the tunnel, the worse the idea sounded, so she went. It ran for a long distance, and every step seemed to bring her closer to doom. At length she reached a junction of five passages, and Kendra paused.
None of the ways stood out as bad. None felt terribly good, either. After some searching, she found a smaller tunnel slanting upward. It seemed too narrow, and she suspected it would lead to trouble.
So in she went. The passage constricted and widened again and again. She scooted through the snug places, hoping not to get stuck. Eventually daylight came into view, and she crawled out of a crack near the base of a large boulder.
Kendra resumed traveling aboveground. She felt bad about a wooded area, went there, and became completely turned around. Time and again, Kendra ignored the routes that looked promising in deference to her most uncertain and disquieted instincts. She pushed through dense vegetation, climbed unwelcoming slopes, avoided pleasant meadows, abandoned inviting streams, and generally made the way difficult for herself.
Eventually her clothes dried.
She kept an eye on the sun as it got lower. Once it vanished, Midsummer Eve would start. Kendra did not want to get caught out in the open when that happened. She picked up her pace, hurrying wherever she felt she should not go, stopping to reassess when she seemed to be heading in a good direction.
As she emerged from a thick stand of young trees, a pond came into view. A series of stepping-stones led to an island in the center of the pond. Soothing music came from the island, though Kendra couldn’t be sure whether instruments or voices generated the sound. There was also a glow from an unseen source on the island, bright enough to register despite the daylight.
Could this be it? Had she finally made it?
Kendra paused and looked around. On the far side of the pond rose a low bluff. She noticed a dark cleft in the rock.
Kendra tore her eyes away.
No!
She did not want to go back underground. That had been scary. She was lucky she hadn’t died. The cleft in the rock seemed like a terrible idea, especially now that she had found the probable location of the fairy.
Kendra closed her eyes and thought hard, searching her feelings. The cleft seemed like a huge mistake.
She opened her eyes, walked around the pond to the cleft, and went inside. She did not have to duck, but the way forward was twisty. After several turns, she saw light up ahead. She realized it probably meant danger. A tribe of goblins could inhabit this cave. Or worse.
Kendra took a few more turns and emerged into a bright, sparkling cavern. Glossy white walls of calcite bristled with glittering quartz crystals. A tall, beautiful brunette wearing a shimmering white gown framed by a pair of elaborate wings stood awaiting her.
“Congratulations, mortal!” the fairy said with a smile that conveyed pure, welcoming joy. “You have found me.”
“Risenmay?” Kendra asked.
The fairy’s smile became less an expression of joy and more a shape her mouth was making. “You know my name,” she said. “Someone helped you find me?”
“A stingbulb of Patton Burgess,” Kendra said. “I knew to work against my instincts.”
The smile warmed a bit. “Patton was a charming man. Still no small feat that you arrived.”
“He warned me to follow the way that felt worst to me,” Kendra said.
“Had you entered the Bewilderness unawares, following your best instincts would have led you to a clue. It would have suggested the same advice Patton offered, though a touch more poetically, I suppose. There are many such warnings around the perimeter of this realm, each with an attractor spell. After the warning, you would then have to follow the least welcoming route to survive. You skipped my personal warning due to the tip Patton gave you.” Her smile faltered. “Amazing how many people fail to reach me. More than nine out of ten die instead.”
“So many!” Kendra exclaimed.
“I can’t offer something for nothing,” Risenmay said. “It is interesting to watch how many individuals cannot obey simple instructions.”
“Is it worth killing them?” Kendra asked.
“I don’t kill them,” Risenmay said. “Their choices do that.”
“But you let them walk through a dangerous place, knowing they might die,” Kendra said.
“Dying is what mortals do best,” Risenmay said. “It’s your inheritance. You are visitors in this world. From the moment you are born, the end looms. The question is not if, rather when and how.”
“We get to live before we die,” Kendra said. “That matters to us. We want it to last.”
“I don’t mind any life lasting a little longer,” Risenmay said. “I’m not against you living. I don’t cheer for death. I’m just aware that none of you endure for very long, no matter how desperately you cling to life.”
“It matters to my friends and family how long I live,” Kendra said. “And to me.”
“Did you come all this
way to lecture me, dear one?” Risenmay asked. “To teach me lessons from your finite experience that I have not learned in thousands of years?”
“I might know things about being a mortal that you don’t,” Kendra said.
“Does that somehow obligate me to think like a mortal?” Risenmay asked. “Are you required to learn to think like a dog? Or a mosquito? Can you not appreciate a dog but think like a human?”
“I didn’t come here to lecture you,” Kendra said, not wanting to argue.
Risenmay gave a relieved smile. “That moves us in a better direction. Why have you come to me?”
“I need your help,” Kendra said.
“I see,” Risenmay replied. “Something you cannot do for yourself.”
“Yes,” Kendra said. “My friends need help too. All of Wyrmroost needs help. The whole world, really. I’m the caretaker here.”
“Now, child, I am a fairy, and not a mortal, but if I needed help, I might not approach my benefactor with a lecture on empathy for lesser beings, but rather pleading, begging, on my knees, perhaps.”
Kendra got down on her knees. “Please.”
Risenmay shook her head, lovely tresses bouncing. “Nay, child, rise. Begging loses all effect once the petitioner has been invited to grovel.”
Kendra stayed on her knees. “I mean it. I’m sorry if I was rude. It was hard getting here and I’m worried about my friends. Please help me.”
“I see you are trying,” Risenmay said. “Arise, dear one, I insist, I detect your sincerity. You are fairykind. A gift from the Fairy Queen?”
“Yes,” Kendra said, getting to her feet.
“Are you aware the current Fairy Queen is not a fairy?” Risenmay asked.
“She’s a unicorn,” Kendra said.
“Do you know who was Fairy Queen before her?” Risenmay asked.
“I didn’t know there was another,” Kendra said.
“Queen is a position, not an individual,” Risenmay said. “Just as Horus was Dragon King before Celebrant.”
“I don’t know who preceded this Fairy Queen,” Kendra said.
“She was actually a fairy,” Risenmay said. “They were all fairies, in fact, before our current queen. True fairies, like me.”
“You seem different from other fairies,” Kendra said.
Risenmay laughed richly. “You mean the tiny ones who flit about plagued with insecurity. Yes, child, I am a great fairy. We have various designations. Some mortals have taken to calling us fairy godmothers.”
“You’re a fairy godmother?” Kendra asked.
“A quaint title, but yes, it helps make the proper distinction,” Risenmay said. “We watch over the little ones. And one of us has always been queen. Until now.”
“Does that upset you?” Kendra asked tentatively.
“No more than it would upset you if a lovely, intelligent swan were queen of all humans,” Risenmay said.
Kendra scrunched her brow. “That would be weird.”
“But not completely undesirable,” Risenmay said. “Lovely in some ways. And peculiar that the ruler of humans would not be a human.”
“The Fairy Queen can look like a fairy,” Kendra said.
“Then imagine instead a swan with a human avatar,” Risenmay said. “But first and foremost, a swan.”
“I have seen other large fairies,” Kendra said. “Were they great fairies?”
“More likely small fairies made large,” Risenmay said. “The great fairies were never small. Our powers and comprehension exceed theirs. We can do far more, and can be generous benefactors when the mood strikes us. How may I help you?”
“We need transportation,” Kendra said.
“Patton suggested you come to me for transportation?” Risenmay asked.
“We all brought mounts,” Kendra said. “We have to get to Stormguard Castle an hour after the festival night begins.”
Risenmay narrowed her gaze. “Did this stingbulb tell you what I can do?”
“He couldn’t,” Kendra said.
“That at least is a relief,” Risenmay said. “I thought perhaps his temporary reincarnation might have bypassed his pledge to silence. He hinted, and then made sure you came prepared.”
“Can you help us?” Kendra asked.
“I can,” Risenmay said. “But will I?”
Kendra got down on her knees. “Please, Risenmay, most beautiful of fairies. My friends need help getting here before the festival night begins. And we must reach the castle at the right time, or Wyrmroost might fall to the dragons. All dragon sanctuaries might fall.”
Risenmay stifled a little yawn. “You don’t know why greater fairies take an interest in mortals, do you?”
“I’m not sure,” Kendra said.
“You are fairykind,” Risenmay said. “I can’t read your mind. The wishes of your heart are hidden from me. Hints to what might motivate me survive in some of your stories.”
“Cinderella had a fairy godmother,” Kendra said.
“Did she?” Risenmay asked innocently.
Kendra thought. What might pique her interest? “The boy I like is in danger.”
Risenmay brightened. “You like a boy?”
“I do,” Kendra said. “He’s older than me, so he’s resistant. But he doesn’t seem old.”
“That sounds thrilling. Do you love him?”
“So much.”
Risenmay clapped. “Your love is the important part! I see that you mean it. Sometimes love is better when not fully returned. Juicier. More interesting.”
“I’m so worried about him,” Kendra said.
“Is he handsome?” Risenmay asked.
“Insanely handsome,” Kendra said. “It’s not just me who thinks so—naiads, fairies, everyone!”
Risenmay seemed delighted. “He is mortal?”
“He’s a unicorn.”
“Wait, really? Does he have a name?”
“Bracken.”
Risenmay covered her giggle. “Of course you love Bracken! Who doesn’t love Bracken? Sadly, this weakens your case a little. Makes your love a bit more generic. He is so aloof, and admired by all. I’m sorry, my dear.”
“He likes me back,” Kendra said.
Risenmay looked at her skeptically. “Can you be sure? The youth has a kind and jovial nature often mistaken for affection.”
“He gave me his first horn,” Kendra said, touching it.
Risenmay’s eyes widened. “Did he indeed? Goodness, child. Why didn’t you say so? Getting to Stormguard Castle will help your relationship?”
“He’s been captured,” Kendra said. “Getting to the castle could save him.”
Risenmay laughed with delight. “Children!” she called in a singsong tone. “To me, my children! Mummy has an errand for you!”
Winging It
“The sun is getting lower,” Calvin said.
“That’s how it works,” Babak said. “After midday. As time passes.”
“Right, but when the sun sets, the festival night starts,” Calvin said. “And we all die.”
“Makes the position of the sun an important topic,” Patton said. “We have maybe half an hour left.”
“Can we make it back to the Zowali place in half an hour?” Knox asked.
“Maybe,” Captain replied, “if we leave now. And we run. And the trees don’t mind.”
“Are those fairies?” Seth asked, pointing into the Bewilderness.
Patton looked where Seth was pointing and then let out a whoop. “Kendra did it, friends! Risenmay sent escorts! Mount up!”
As Seth climbed onto Noble, eleven fairies arrived. None looked like the rugged Wyrmroost fairies Seth had seen. These were colorful and delicate.
“Mistress Risenmay requests your presence,” one of the fairies announced in her h
igh voice. “We were sent to guide you.”
“Lead on,” Patton said. “We were hoping you would come.”
“Stay with us,” the fairy said. “The way ahead is fraught with peril.”
Patton took the lead, and Seth rode up beside him. The others fell in line behind. “Kendra made it?” Seth asked. “She’s safe? For sure?”
“No doubt,” Patton said. “It’s the only reason these fairies would come for us. Follow them closely.”
The game of follow-the-fairies seemed a little absurd, the route unnecessarily circuitous over uncomfortable terrain. No roads. No paths. Lots of winding.
The talking mounts did not complain and maintained a brisk pace. Seth kept glancing as the sun slipped toward the horizon. Every time they made ridiculous turns that assured an indirect route, Seth clenched his teeth, reminding himself that they were steering around unseen death traps. But the setting sun was a death trap too! Being exposed on Midsummer Eve at Wyrmroost would kill them as surely as anything else.
A little space remained between the sun and the mountaintops when a promising pond came into view. An island at the center emitted a suspicious glow, and ethereal music chimed in the air. The fairies led them past the pond to an opening in the bluff beyond.
Patton dismounted, and the others followed his lead. The fairies led them into the cavity in the bluff. Despite the close confines, the horses and the camel followed. The way wound back and forth around sharp bends.
Seth emerged into a crystal cavern, where a radiant, human-sized fairy stood in a dazzling white gown. Kendra waved to him. He waved back, relieved to see that his sister was actually all right.
“This is Risenmay,” Kendra said.
The fairy was gorgeous. Seth was not sure if he had ever seen a more beautiful woman, even among the Fair Folk.
“Welcome,” Risenmay said. “Come inside—there is room for all, horses too. Oh, and a camel and a rabbit! Quite a menagerie! I met you back when you actually existed, Patton Burgess.”