Of Introductions and Abductions

by Robert Dahlen

  “Beth McGill.”

  The voice chilled Beth to the bone. She turned around.

  There was a woman in the shadows. They drifted and wove around her, they blended into her hair and trailed from her black clothing. All Beth could see clearly of her were her dark eyes. “Who are you?” Beth asked. “How did you get in here?”

  “Faerie porths go through shadows,” the woman said, “as do I.”

  “Okay. How did you know my name?”

  “So many questions.” The woman smiled. “And I have some for you.”

  “Huh?”

  “The Monkey Queen. Do you trust her?”

  “That's none of your—”

  “What if I were to tell you that she was wrong?”

  “About what?” Beth said. “She's been right about everything so far.”

  “But she won't always be. What will you do when that time comes?” the woman said, a hint of menace in her voice. “When the future stretches before you, what side will you be on? What will you choose?”

  Beth said nothing. She stared into the shadows and blinked.

  “Clever girl!” the woman said. “Perhaps we should continue this discussion elsewhere.” She raised a shadow-wrapped arm.

  Beth backed away. “No, thanks,” she said. “I prefer a little less vagueness in my conversations.”

  The woman nodded. “Very well then. Just don't expect such kindness from me the next time we meet.”

  “The next—” Beth started to say, but the woman took a step back, into the shadows. They wrapped around her, they swallowed her, and they vanished.

  Beth blinked and shook her head. “Was she threatening me?” she said to herself. In a bit of a daze, she turned and stepped out of the alcove. As she did, a quartet of young, swaggering faeries wearing Wrexham's colors walked by. One of them stuck out his foot, tripping Beth.

  Her knees hit the floor first, then her hands as she used them to break her fall. She grimaced, but managed not to shout as pain flooded her body. She caught her breath, grateful that nothing had broken and her glasses had stayed on. Then, she could hear the faeries laughing at her. “Clumsy!” the one who tripped her said with a mocking smile. “Just what you'd expect from a human.” They walked away, their laughter growing.

  Beth slowly got to her knees. They were sore, as were the heels of her hands, and her face was burning with embarrassment. Maybe I am in over my head, she thought. Maybe Puck was—

  “Are you all right?”

  Beth looked and saw a faerie bending down, extending a hand to her. She was wearing a green tunic over matching leggings and a mail coat, sword at her side. On the front of the tunic was an emblem displaying a crossed sword and leaf. She had long curly blond hair, and her eyes were dark and deep enough to remind Beth of Puck. “I'll be okay, thanks,” Beth said as the faerie helped her up.

  “I am sorry,” the faerie said. “We're not all like that. I hope you'll remember that.”

  “I will.”

  The faerie nodded. “Excuse me,” she said, and she was gone, lost in the crowd before Beth could say another word.

  Figures, Beth thought. First friendly person here who talks to me, and she's with security or something. Shaking her head again, she set off for the buffet tables.

  Michiko was near the stage, watching the orchestra, as Duke Wrexham approached her again. “Monkey Queen!” he said with a phony laugh.

  “Nice band you have here,” she said. “Do they take requests?”

  Wrexham blinked. “Pardon?”

  “You know, like Mozart? The Beatles? 'Gangnam Style'?”

  “Oh. Earth music. How droll,” the Duke said. “No, I have something for you.”

  Michiko raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were married.”

  “I thought you might be hungry by now,” he said, “so I brought this for you.” One of his men came up carrying a dessert plate with a domed glass cover; Wrexham removed the cover with a flourish.

  On the dish was a plain pound cake, topped with chopped walnuts and dusted with powdered sugar. The cake had a pleasant, earthly smell to it that caught the attention of nearby faeries. “It's fresh from my kitchens,” Wrexham said. “You must try it, with my compliments. I insist.”

  Michiko giggled. “Oh, I'm afraid I couldn't!” she said, looking back as she slipped into the crowd. “I have to watch my girlish figure, you know!” Wrexham snarled wordlessly as he slapped the cover back on the dish.

  Beth finally allowed herself a smile as she reached the buffet tables. Even though most of the guests seemed not to be eating, as long as no one else was looking, she was hungry. She grabbed a small plate and eyed the food.

  It seemed to be standard high-class party fare, at least as prepared faerie style. One small table was loaded with seafood, including a plate with something that looked like a sugar-coated gray ball. She reached for one of the balls.

  “I'd recommend against that.”

  Beth drew her hand back and glanced at the speaker. He was tall, chubby and reptilian, with smooth green and purple skin, a long tail and thick arms and legs. He wore a black robe with red and gold stitching, oversized glasses with round lenses, and a red hat that looked like someone had stolen the tassel off a giant fez.

  Two days ago, Beth thought, I would have fled the room screaming at the sight of him. “Why?” she asked. “What's wrong with it?”

  “It's no so much that anything's 'wrong',” the reptile said. “It's just that some of the ingredients in there might severely upset the human digestive system.”

  “What is it, anyway? A dessert?”

  “Crystallized jellied eel, actually.”

  “And the tray next to it?” Beth pointed at a pile of something green and rounded.

  “Pickled sea slug.”

  Beth tried not to gag. “Thanks.”

  “You're welcome. Try the sausage in pastry on the next table; I hear it's quite good.” Beth did so as the reptile grabbed a slug from the tray and popped it in his mouth. “Not bad,” he said, “but I miss Wrexham's old chef. Now there was someone who knew how to pickle a sea slug.”

  “You're right about the sausage,” Beth said. She loaded several more on her plate, then added some carrot sticks and celery out of guilt. “Try one?”

  “Thank you, but pork affects me much the same as the seafood here would affect you.”

  Beth nodded. “I'm Beth McGill, by the way.”

  “I am called Olig.” He wiped his hand on a napkin and extended it towards Beth. “What do you do, Beth?”

  She shook his hand. “I'm an English major in college, when I'm not eavesdropping at parties.”

  “You came in with the Monkey Queen?”

  “You've heard of her?” Beth raised an eyebrow.

  Olig nodded. “She's getting quite the reputation in Faerie. Some of my clients speak of her. Usually while gritting their teeth or cursing.”

  “That sounds like her. How's the punch?”

  “Safe to drink, not spiked, and quite tasty.” Olig held out a glass. “Would you be so kind?”

  “Sure.” Beth ladled punch in his glass, then her own, then took a sip. “So, Olig, what do you do?”

  “I'm an interdimensional facilitator.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I take people between worlds. No auldgates or porths needed.”

  “Really!” Beth said with an excited smile.

  Olig nodded. “You'd be surprised how many faerie nobles will sneak off for a vacation on Earth. Not that I can name names.”

  “Like the Duke?”

  “Well…” Olig pondered. “He's been spending a lot of time on Earth.”

  “I know.” Beth made a face.

  “You've met him, I take it.”

  “You know him?”

  Olig shrugged. “He pays well. He was acting a bit odd last week, though. First, he summoned me to Earth, and then had me take him and his entourage back to Faerie.”

  “To his Court?” Beth ask
ed.

  “No. To the edge of the forest, near the Hoblands.”

  “Why there?”

  “He didn't say. I suspect a summer cottage may be involved.”

  Beth suspected otherwise, and decided that it was time to change the subject. “So, how does one get a job as an interdimensional facilitator?”

  “One has to be born for it. It's an incredibly rare talent. I found out I had it when I was four.”

  “What happened?”

  Olig blushed slightly. “My mother took away my favorite toy after I misbehaved. I threw quite the temper tantrum, yelling that I was going away. To my surprise, I did.”

  “Where to?”

  “Somewhere far, far away. All I remember is that it was dark and cold and empty.” Olig seemed to shudder at the memory. “I cried because I wanted to go home, and I pictured my house and my family and wished real hard, and suddenly I was back.”

  “Were your parents mad?” Beth asked.

  “Remarkably, no. They were just as scared as I was! As soon as I returned, they took me to a neighborhood wizard who figured out what happened.”

  “So what did he do?”

  “He put a restraining spell on me to make sure that it didn't happen again. He said my parents were having enough headaches as it was.” Olig grinned.

  Beth laughed. “But they finally took the spell off, obviously.”

  “Only when I was old enough to get the training to control my trips. And I've been doing this ever since.”

  “Is it just from Earth to Faerie and back?”

  “Oh, my stars, no! I'm not even from either of those places. My homeworld is called Fip.”

  “Fip?”

  “It's a wonderful place.” Beth could hear the pride in Olig's voice. “You should see it in the fall, when the firebats' annual migration lights up the night sky.”

  “Maybe someday. If I survive this party.”

  “I know the feeling. But I do need to start mingling again. Drumming up business.”

  Beth nodded. “It was nice meeting you, Olig.”

  “Likewise. But before I go—” He reached inside his robe and pulled out a card. “Take this, in case the Monkey Queen, or you, ever need to get somewhere. The instructions are on the back.”

  Beth took the card. “Thanks,” she said with a smile.

  “You're welcome. Just remember that you can always use it to go see the firebats.”

  “I just may.”

  Olig returned Beth's smile and waved as he walked away. Time to find Michiko, she thought. She gathered some strawberries for Gregor, wrapped them in a napkin and put them in her purse; Olig's card went in as well, in a side pocket. Then, she gave in to temptation and grabbed one last sausage.

  “Clumsy idiot!” Gregor grumbled as he dodged another pair of faerie high heels. He had been spending most of his time at the party trying to not get stepped on, and the rest trying to get on the buffet tables. He had so far succeeded at the first and failed at the second.

  He moved along the wall, considering what to do next, when four young faeries in red and gold walked past, talking boastfully and laughing loudly. One of them then turned his head towards the guinea pig.

  Gregor darted away, running under the curtain that covered one alcove. “Was that a rat I just saw?” the faerie shouted.

  “That ugly human you tripped must have brought it in!” another one said, bringing out more laughter from his companions.

  “If this place wasn't so crowded,” Gregor muttered, “I'd teach those punks—”

  He stopped when he realized who else was in the alcove. Lord Wrexham stood next to Puck, who was now dressed in Wrexham's colors. They were talking to a faerie woman in green with curly blonde hair who wore a sword. Gregor scampered into a corner and listened.

  “Duke Wrexham, I plead with you!” the woman was saying. “This is madness! First the spriggans, now this!”

  “What gives you the right to question me?” he said, his voice cold.

  “I've been out there,” she said. “I've actually spent time there. They're not perfect, we all know. But they're trying!”

  “It's not enough.”

  “Or is it just what their land has to offer now? Is it your greed, and not the good of Faerie—”

  “Stand down!” the Duke said.

  The woman turned towards Puck. “Godfather—Puck! Are you supporting this?”

  He nodded. “The Duke is doing the right thing for Faerie.”

  “But it's not right! You know that!” Her voice softened. “What has happened to you?”

  “People change,” Puck said.

  Wrexham put an arm around Puck's shoulders. “My decision was and is final. Your duty is to accept it and obey your lord.”

  “You are not my lord,” the woman spat out. “I have no lord here.” She threw the curtain aside and stormed out.

  Wrexham and Puck faced each other and spoke, too softly for Gregor to hear. He dashed out of the alcove, looking for Michiko and Beth.

  The faerie servant tried not to sweat as he carried the glass-domed tray that held four chocolate chip cookies up to the human. “M-M-Monkey Queen?” he said.

  “Yessss?” Michiko said.

  “L-L-Lord Wrexham presents this to you, with his compliments.” Hands shaking, the servant held out the tray.

  “For me? Thanks!”

  The servant started to sigh with relief, but then gasped as Michiko took the tray from him, cookies and all. “But—” he tried to say.

  “It's perfect! It'll look so nice in my dining nook!” She spun away from the servant and walked off before he could say another word.

  As Michiko worked her way through the crowd, she saw a group of four young faeries in red and gold near her, passing an all-but-empty bottle between them. “Oh, look!” one of them said. “Another human!”

  “She's almost as horrid as that clumsy one!” another faerie said, triggering a round of drunken laughter.

  As it died down, Michiko grinned and took the lid off the tray. “I can't be that bad!” she said. “I have cookies for you, after all.”

  “Cookies?”

  “Compliments of the Monkey Queen!”

  The faerie took a cookie from the tray and bit into it. His face lit up. The others each grabbed one and dug in. “Enjoy!” Michiko said as she walked off.

  “Monkey Queen?”

  Michiko turned and saw Vrech and Amitya standing off to the side, both wearing formal red and black outfits and looking very uncomfortable. “Hiiii!” she said with a smile. “Surprised to see me here?”

  “I am,” Vrech said, “but I shouldn't be, should I?”

  “I'm at all the big parties!” Michiko's smile vanished. “You were invited? I'm surprised you showed up.”

  Amitya sighed. “We considered not going, but we felt that Wrexham would be offended by the snub.”

  “Faerie politics,” Vrech said. “Have you heard anything?”

  “Not yet,” Michiko said, “but I need to check with Beth and Gregor. And find a place to stash this tray.” She set off into the crowd.

  Beth stood by the buffet tables and scowled. She had been circling the room looking for Michiko for what seemed like an eternity, but hadn't seen her, and now her feet were hurting. She reached for a cup and the punch ladle.

  “Beth!” Michiko shouted from behind her.

  “Oh, now you show up,” Beth said as she turned around.

  “Sorry. Wrexham keeps trying to tempt me. How's the food that's safe to eat?”

  “Try the sausage, skip the sea slug. Find anything out?”

  “Vrech and Amitya are here.” Michiko grabbed a handful of carrot sticks.

  “They were invited?” Beth raised an eyebrow.

  “Yep,” Michiko said as she munched. “That tells me that Wrexham is up to something.”

  “He must be. I was talking to this guy I met—”

  “You met a guy?” Michiko said, smiling slyly. “Did you give him your phone n
umber?”

  Beth rolled her eyes. “He's an interdimensional facilitator, and he's not even my species. He's green and purple. And reptilian.”

  “You were flirting with Barney the Dinosaur?”

  “Michiko…”

  “Okay, okay! What did he have to tell you?”

  “He said that he had taken Wrexham and some of his men to a spot near the Hoblands a few days ago. He didn't know why Wrexham would want to go there.”

  Michiko nodded. “There's something not right—”

  “Girl! Down here!”

  Michiko and Beth looked down and saw Gregor. “Enjoying the party?” Michiko asked.

  “Not in the slightest,” the guinea pig said. “But I do have a story to tell.”

  Beth lifted Gregor up, and he told the women what he had heard. By the time he had finished, Michiko was scowling. “That cinches it,” she said. “Wrexham's up to no good.”

  Beth opened up her purse. “Nice work, Gregor,” she said. “I got you a snack.” She slipped the guinea pig into the purse; he squealed happily.

  “It's coming together,” Michiko said. “But how does Puck fit in? What is Wrexham up to?”

  “I think we're about to find out.” Beth grabbed Michiko and pointed to the stage. The orchestra had stopped, and Cantwick was trying to get the crowd's attention. As he started to speak, Beth noticed something odd about him, something she couldn't quite put a finger on. She looked past the surface and saw that the faerie had covered his face with a seeming. Below it, his right eye was bruised. Was he in a fight? she thought. Or did he just get a little too fresh with someone?

  “Hear ye, hear ye!” Cantwick shouted. “We are pleased and honored to present to you our majestic and beloved lord, the Duke of Wrexham!” The faeries applauded politely. Beth bit her lip.

  The Duke smiled and waved as he stepped on the stage. Puck followed him, copying his smile. “Ladies and gentlemen of Faerie!” the Duke said to the crowd. “I thank you all for coming on such short notice. As you can see, I have good news: we have rescued Puck from the clutches of his kidnappers and returned him to our homelands!” Puck nodded as most of the crowd applauded again. Beth stopped biting her lip; she was worried about chomping through it.