Long Live the Queen

by Gerry Swallow

“Run!” said Winkie as the giant carcass tumbled down the hill. He, Farrah, and Bo-Peep sped off in all directions across the ground made to tremble by the enormous animal that rolled and plummeted nearly as quickly as it had run.

  As it fell, its massive spiked tail swept around, brushing the tops the weeds until it met with the small of Bo-Peep’s back and sent her sprawling and tumbling.

  When finally the Great Spiny Gleekin stopped and lay as still and as dead as the stranglerat, Elspeth ran to Jack, who had collapsed to the ground where he lay in agony. Dumpty ran to Bo-Peep, who lay motionless in a patch of weeds, and Winkie ran to Farrah. Or at least he tried to, but he soon discovered she was nowhere to be found.

  “Farrah!” he called, searching the area first slowly and carefully then desperately. “Where is she?”

  Dumpty helped Bo-Peep to stand. She was shaken and bruised but otherwise uninjured, and soon she and Dumpty, along with Cory, Rory, Maury, and Elspeth, had joined in the frantic hunt for Farrah, which became suddenly more urgent when it was discovered that the queen was not the only one missing.

  “Wait a minute,” said Elspeth. “The witch. Where’s Mary Mary?”

  “No!” wailed Winkie. “She’s taken Farrah.” He dropped to his knees and buried his face in his hands. “Oh, this is absolutely horrible!”

  But if Winkie thought that Mary Mary absconding with Farrah was the worst possible explanation for her disappearance, he was about to find that there was another scenario that was far more dreadful.

  Elspeth was the first to see her—only her face, beautiful and serene as ever. The rest of the queen, every bit of her tiny body, was hidden beneath the massive corpse of the Great Spiny Gleekin.

  “Over here!” Elspeth shouted. “I’ve found her.”

  Elspeth knelt near Farrah, and the others hurried over to find the queen with eyes agape. A faint gurgling sound escaped from her slightly parted lips.

  “Hurry!” shouted Winkie. “Get this thing off her!”

  The three brothers put their shoulders to the beast, and pushed with their powerful legs, moving the animal just enough so Elspeth could drag Farrah out from beneath it.

  “Farrah, my darling. Speak to me,” Winkie pleaded. He knelt down beside her and moved his ear close to her lips but heard only the gurgling in reply. “Please, Farrah. You said you would never leave me. You promised me.” Then he turned his attention to the others, to anyone who would listen. “Do something. Help her!”

  But there was nothing to be done. Her internal injuries were too many and too severe. A small bit of blood appeared at the corner of her mouth and ran down her cheek. And then, the gurgling stopped.

  This queen of ours,

  She warmed our hearts,

  Just like a summer’s day.

  The beast with warts,

  It broke our hearts,

  And took our queen away.

  Chapter

  21

  There is a strange hierarchy to grief. Those perceived to have the greatest claim to it are granted the right to express it fully, while others, farther removed from it, are expected to remain strong in order to offer support.

  Winkie cradled Farrah’s lifeless body in his arms and cried openly. And while Elspeth’s heart was no less broken, she fought the urge to fall into a puddle upon the ground. Instead she sat next to Winkie and gently rubbed his back, which heaved with each painful sob.

  Likewise, Bo-Peep, Dumpty, and the others could only stand and stare and swallow the pain in their own hearts while Winkie freely gave in to his. That they had all risked so much to save Farrah from the witch and that they had so recently celebrated her rescue with shouts of “Long live the queen” made her sudden passing all the more difficult to comprehend.

  And though it may have seemed highly insensitive at such a time, there was another issue that had to be addressed. “Your Highness,” said Dumpty, gently as he knelt next to the king. “Forgive me, but it’s just a matter of time before another of these creatures picks up our scent. The longer we remain here, the greater the danger.”

  At that moment, Winkie had no concern for his own personal safety and might have welcomed a quick death and an instant relief from the sorrow that reached to his very core. But, grieving or not, a king must be a leader and there were others to consider.

  “Yes,” he said. His voice was weak and his eyes dull. “I understand.”

  For the time being, he remained as he was while Cory, Rory, and Maury went to work, gathering and cutting vines.

  Elspeth left the mourning king and returned to where Jack still lay on his back in the dirt. “They’re making a stretcher for you,” she said. “So don’t worry. We’ll get you home safely.”

  “I don’t deserve such consideration,” said Jack.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t you see? It’s because of me that the queen is dead.”

  “That’s nonsense.”

  “If I hadn’t gone looking for you, I wouldn’t have been in need of rescue and she’d still be alive.”

  “Listen,” said Elspeth. “The witch alone is responsible for the death of the queen. If there hadn’t been a kidnapping, none of this would have happened.” Jack began to protest, but Elspeth stopped him short. “You’ve been blaming yourself for years for what happened to me as a child. You’re no more at fault for that than you are for what’s happened to the queen.”

  “She was your best friend,” said Jack. Tears streamed down each side of his face and trickled into his ears. There was something about the sensation that he found pleasant, in a cleansing sort of way.

  “I only wish I’d been able to spend more time with her,” said Elspeth. “I made as many visits as I could. And of course she could never come visit me in the Deadlands because—”

  Elspeth’s heart and mind began to race at equally frantic speeds. “Wait a minute,” she whispered.

  “What is it, Elspeth?” said Jack. “What’s wrong?”

  “She could never come visit me in the Deadlands because she might turn back into a doll.” Elspeth stood quickly and left Jack lying alone and confused as she sprinted back to where Winkie sat, still holding his departed queen while gently stroking that long blond hair that Elspeth had once scissored away.

  “King William,” she practically shouted.

  “What is it?” he said placidly, completely unaffected by Elspeth’s urgent tone.

  “I have an idea. I don’t know, maybe I’m crazy. Perhaps it won’t work. But it’s worth a try if it might bring Queen Farrah back to life.”

  For the first time since the queen had been pulled from beneath the Great Spiny Gleekin, Winkie removed his eyes from Farrah’s face and looked at Elspeth. “What did you say?”

  “I said there’s a chance—a small chance—that we can revive her.”

  Dumpty stepped in between Elspeth and Winkie and spoke sternly to the girl. “What are you doing?” Then he whispered, “What do you mean giving false hope to a man who has just lost his wife?”

  “It may be false hope,” said Elspeth. “But it may not be. And we’ll never know until we try.”

  “Try what?”

  “An operation. A simple operation, but one that can only be performed in the Deadlands.”

  “You want to take the queen’s body to the Deadlands?” said Winkie.

  “Only temporarily,” said Elspeth. “And with your permission, of course.”

  “I signed a deal with the devil,” said Winkie. “And I faced ultimate evil while risking my life and those of my closest friends to get her back. And now you ask whether you may take her down the well to the Deadlands on the fleeting chance that you can bring her back to me alive once more? I think you know my answer.”

  Elspeth nodded. “I’d like to leave right away,” she said. “The brothers can take Jack to Banbury Cross. Meanwhile, you should go with Dumpty and Bo-Peep to the forest. Down the path from Manuel. Gene knows the spot.” She handed the stick to Dumpty. “Wait for
me there.”

  “You mean to travel unescorted?” asked Bo-Peep.

  “Fergus will go with me, keeping watch from above.”

  Bo-Peep looked to Fergus, and he nodded as if it had all been arranged.

  Winkie gently lifted Farrah’s body from the ground and offered it to Elspeth. “I know it may sound absurd,” he said, his throat tightening. “But please take extra special care of her.”

  “She’s in good hands,” said Elspeth, and she took the queen in her arms as one would a newborn child, cradling her head in the crook of her arm. “Of course I can’t promise anything, you know. But I’ll do my best.”

  “I’ve no doubt of that,” said Winkie.

  Elspeth tried to smile in that same reassuring way that Jill would if she were there. “Tell my father I’ll see him soon.”

  She gave one last glance at Jack, and as she turned to leave, Dumpty stepped in front of her. “Elspeth?” he said.

  “Yes?”

  Though it appeared he had a great deal more to say, all that came out was, “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, Fergus. Lead the way.”

  Another strange thing about grief is that it has the power to partially or completely eliminate fear. When you already hurt as much as you think you possibly can, what is there to be afraid of? And so as Elspeth made her way through the Thick, where any number of vicious beasts roamed freely, she went, not with a sense of dread, but with purpose. Her mission was as narrowly defined as one can be: get Farrah back to the Deadlands and stop at nothing.

  Strange sounds and eerie shadows did little to slow her down or to divert her focus, and before she knew it Fergus had led her out of the Thick and back to the friendlier terrain of the forest. But when her guide turned onto the path that would take them past Manuel, Elspeth said, “No, Fergus. Not that way. There’s no reason for him to know about any of this. It would break his heart.”

  “Right,” Fergus agreed. “It’s okay. There’s another path. Follow me.”

  To the edge of the forest they traveled and out across Torcano Alley. Not even the possibility of being burned alive or falling into a magma-filled crevasse gave Elspeth even the slightest pause. She marched forward as if she were invincible.

  By the time they reached the other side and had begun the slow walk up the crumbling switchback trail, Elspeth’s back was numb and her arms ached from being held in one position for several hours. Still, she refused to make movements or adjustments that would jostle the queen in any way.

  At the top of the cliff they headed off, not in the direction of Banbury Cross, but instead turned left toward a large, open pasture about a mile across the flatlands. In the middle of the dry pasture sat the well, which amounted to nothing more than a hole in the ground surrounded by a pile of loose stones stacked without mortar and crumbling badly as a result.

  Fergus was already perched upon the edge of the well as Elspeth approached. Looking down into the seemingly bottomless pit, he couldn’t imagine how someone could take it on faith that to leap into it would not result in injury or certain death. Yet Elspeth had done it on numerous occasions.

  “Okay, here we are,” she said, not to Fergus but to Farrah. “Now there’s nothing to be scared of. It’s a bit of a drop and the water’s a little cold, but it’ll be over before you know it.”

  Elspeth’s greatest concern was neither the long fall nor the temperature of the water but the possibility that Farrah might slip from her hands and become lost in the pitch black at the bottom of the well.

  She sighed and rolled her neck, which had become tight again. She sat down on the rocks next to Fergus then swung her feet around until they hung over the edge and down into the dark shaft.

  “I’m not sure what you have in mind,” said Fergus. “But I hope it works.”

  “That makes all of us. Now, once I jump in, fly back to the forest and tell the others I made it to the well and that I’ll see them soon.”

  “Will do,” said Fergus. “Safe journey.”

  “You too.” Elspeth took a breath, let it out, then inhaled again, as deeply as she was able. This time she held the air in her lungs, then leaned forward and dropped into the darkness.

  When she hit the water, her fears were nearly realized when the impact almost jarred Farrah from her grip. She managed to hold on and, with her free arm, she pushed the water aside, propelling herself downward, in the direction of the dim light that grew brighter and brighter as she swam toward it, until its intensity was almost blinding.

  She reached out and pulled herself through the portal. When at last she took her next breath, it smelled of mildew and cabbage. Though she had made this very trip several times, at the end of it she was always a bit surprised to find herself lying in a puddle on her bedroom floor. She lay in place for a moment, looking around the room at the vintage posters on the wall, afraid to glance down at her precious cargo. She knew that she was holding either a plastic doll or a tiny corpse, and she took several deep breaths before she could summon the courage to settle it for certain.

  “You’re dead,” she said to Farrah when she finally looked. “A dead, lifeless doll. It worked!”

  Elspeth sat up quickly and inspected the doll further, moving the plastic arms and legs along the visible joints. The first part of her plan had worked brilliantly. But there was much more to it than that.

  She jumped to her feet and hurried to her dresser, where her new and unnamed fashion doll sat, staring off at whatever might occupy the space in front of its unblinking eyes. She placed Farrah next to the new doll, then picked up the doll and, in no way gently, pulled its head off.

  She placed the beheaded doll on the dresser then picked up Farrah. “Forgive me,” she said and then, much more carefully this time, twisted and pried her head from her body. Queen Farrah had died of internal injuries, and the only thing that might save her, Elspeth theorized, was a full body transplant.

  Elspeth took the decapitated doll in one hand and Farrah’s head in the other. The name Frankenstein popped briefly into her own head as she moved the two pieces together and twisted the head onto the neck until it snapped into place.

  “There,” she whispered. “Good as new. I hope.”

  She ran quickly to her door, put her ear against it, and listened. She could hear her mother puttering about somewhere in the apartment. She lay down on the floor next to the puddle she’d just made and held tightly to Farrah, outfitted with her fresh, unbroken body, wrapped in a bright yellow dress. “Please,” Elspeth said to no one at all. “Let this work.”

  She closed her eyes, held her breath, and waited. And just as her mind began to drift away, there came a knock upon her bedroom door. Her eyes sprang open, and she inhaled hungrily.

  “What is it?” she said.

  “Before you take your nap, I’d like to get your opinion on something,” said her mother. “I’m going to pick your father up at the airport, and I can’t decide which earrings to wear.”

  Seriously? thought Elspeth. She climbed to her feet and walked to the door. “I’m sure they’re both equally lovely,” she said.

  “If you wouldn’t mind taking a quick look.”

  Elspeth unlocked the door and opened it as little as she felt she could get away with. She peered through the crack at her mother with a different ornament hanging from each earlobe. Delores turned her head side to side several times.

  “Well?”

  “Definitely the one on the left.”

  “My left or your left?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your hair is wet.”

  “I was looking out the window,” said Elspeth. “At the rain.”

  “You shouldn’t do that. You might fall.”

  “May I please go now? I’m very tired.”

  “Of course. I’ll see you when I get back.”

  Elspeth closed the door and locked it tightly then quickly returned to her spot on the floor.

  By now, Winkie had been wai
ting for hours, wringing his hands and pacing the forest floor. “Are you sure? Are you absolutely certain this is the right place?”

  “Gene?” said Dumpty.

  “I think so,” said Gene. “No offense to the trees around here, but they all kind of look the same.”

  “And you definitely saw her go into the well?” he asked Fergus for what must have been the tenth time.

  “Once again, yes I did,” said the owl.

  “Then why hasn’t she returned?”

  “As I understand it, time works very differently in the Deadlands,” said Dumpty.

  “It’s going to be dark soon,” said Winkie.

  That Bo-Peep with her keen eyesight would be the first to spot Elspeth was not surprising. “There!” she said, pointing with Kevin, whom she’d decided might make a good replacement for her disintegrated fighting stick. “Look!”

  Some twenty feet away where once there had been nothing, a girl now lay on the ground, flat on her back, with what appeared to be a blond fashion doll clutched in her hands. For a man with such tiny legs, Winkie proved he could move quickly if impelled by desire.

  As Winkie and the others sprinted toward her, Elspeth opened her eyes and heard the approaching footsteps. Soon they would all know whether what she held in her arms was made of flesh and bone or of plastic and paint. Reluctant to look, Elspeth decided on another test and gave Farrah a gentle squeeze that turned out to be not gentle enough.

  “Please!” Farrah shouted. “Get this thing off me. It’s crushing me.”

  Elspeth gazed up at the trees and the patches of dusky sky, and, for reasons she didn’t understand, she burst out laughing. “She’s alive!” she shouted. She sat up and looked at Farrah through the tears in her eyes. “You’re alive.”

  “Of course I’m alive,” said Farrah. “But . . . how did I get here? The last thing I remember, I was lying beneath the Great Spiny Gleekin and then—”

  “Farrah!” called Winkie, his heart on the verge of exploding with joy and gratitude.

  Elspeth gently placed Farrah on the ground just as Winkie rushed up and took her in his arms. “You’re back. And you’re okay!”