Quite Contrary

by Richard Roberts

  “By rights they should have, but my father’s kindness was rewarded with good fortune. Good fortune for both of us,” she reassured the rat, “For after all, my father’s friends were Master carpenters themselves, were they not? And their sons were carpenters, and they were entirely delighted by the notion of a wife who understood the craft. My sweet Peter Awls and I were about to be betrothed when the fairies took me. Betrothed within the hour, no less. It had taken our fancy to hold the ceremony in the hedge maze, and I must have taken a wrong turn, and then … and then, there were fairies everywhere.”

  The music changed again. More Les Miserables, now ‘A Heart Full Of Love.’ They were picking the album out of my head to annoy me. Except … this song didn’t apply to me particularly, did it? Eponine was hardly in it. I wasn’t in love with anybody. I kind of liked Elizabeth, but there was no sting in that choice of song for me.

  But my rat was standing up on his hind legs on my forearm, staring raptly at pretty, redheaded Elizabeth with a personality as sweet as her face. Elizabeth in the princess dress. Rat had lived his life in fairy tales, where love at first sight was the truest love. Normally, love at first sight irritated me beyond endurance.

  “Elizabeth,” I broke in, “I have an idea. Since you’re lost and can’t go home, why not become a real princess? You’re the kind of girl it happens to. All you’d need is a fairy tale animal, a guide to make your dreams come true.”

  “Wouldn’t that be something? The daughter of a carpenter becoming a princess? It would take a fairy tale to make something like that happen, but you’re kind to say so.” She ended with a wistful giggle and downcast eyes, picture-perfect.

  Rat spun around on my wrist, pulling hard on his ears as he stared up at me, aghast. “I’m not going to leave you!” he squeaked.

  “Elizabeth needs you more than I ever will,” I sniffed.

  “I’ve picked my mistress already, and I’m not going to abandon her!” he insisted. Insisted emphatically. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Rat, if you didn’t want to belong to her so badly, this wouldn’t have made you so upset.

  ‘He was never mine to lose.’ Even without the lyrics, I knew the line. The song was nearing its end. I had more important things to worry about, like people’s feelings.

  “Rat, you want to be with her more than me,” I told him bluntly.

  “You need me more,” he lied, “I’m not going to leave you. I can be at least as stubborn as you can.”

  My expression must have said everything for me. “Okay, no,” he conceded, “But stubborn enough. I won’t change my mind on this. I’ve chosen my mistress.”

  Stupid! His happiness was right in front of him! Mid-argument with me, he couldn’t stop himself looking over his shoulder at Elizabeth, and even on a rat’s face, I could tell he was staring. He could have his fairy tale love and his fairy tale girl and Elizabeth could be a fairy tale princess and get away from the just plain fairies. If anybody could get her out of this, Rat-In-Boots could. This was his purpose in life. She could give it to him. I sure couldn’t.

  Yelling at him wouldn’t convince him of any of this. In that one way, he was certainly my rat.

  ‘A Heart Full Of Love’ ended, and the musicians started on ‘Little Fall Of Rain.’ My heart clenched in my chest, but not as tight as my jaw. My hand closed on a knife. If I could have seen the musicians, I’d have thrown it at them. Instead, someone screamed.

  The noise had to be a fairy. It was practically a steam whistle. The fairy that came running up the path wailed with more of a cat’s yowl. It was still an agonized sound, and as I noticed the bite taken out of the creature’s midsection, it fell in half just short of the table. The body went stiff and wooden in an instant.

  The Wolf came behind it, loping up the path. Blood matted his fur, drawing my eyes to the wall of muscle that had stopped the three arrows sticking out of him. Three arrows and two darts that I could see, and maybe more. His fur gleamed black with his own blood, covering any other wounds.

  They weren’t even slowing him down. Despite the trail of blood drops he left in the dirt, he ran loosely, patiently. Inevitably. Straight for me.

  The Queen had said that he wouldn’t be allowed here. She just sat there, fiddling with her puzzle box, uninterested or unaware. Should I run? It was too late, he was stepping onto the green. Rat and I had sat there and stared, and I couldn’t possibly run fast enough anyway.

  One of the almost human elves slid out of a chair next to the Queen, strolling over in front of the Wolf. He swaggered as he walked, drawing a sparkling silver sword as thin as a knife and holding it in the Wolf’s path. That drew the Wolf up short.

  “Something as crude and animal as you is not welcome at Her Majesty’s table, beast. Your magic is thick and powerful around you, but ours is stronger. Leave this place of joy, or you will die here. Neither your strength nor your glamour are as great as mine,” the elf announced. His voice was lazy and cold, but not his sword. That he held alert, pointed straight at the Wolf’s face.

  The Wolf laughed, and the confidence of it shook me. “They don’t have to be,” his rich bass drawled. “My love in the red hood has a cold iron nail as a hairpin.”

  The lie shocked the elf, spooked him so badly that he turned his head to glance over his shoulder at me. Stupid. The Wolf lunged forward, ducking past the silver sword. His jaws spread wide, then sank into the elf’s chest. He pulled, and gossamer clothing gave way, and skin, and bone. The elf was made of white chalk instead of flesh and glitter instead of blood, but he died when they were yanked out of him, falling limp at the Wolf’s feet.

  That was going to be me in a few seconds, but much messier.

  No, there were more elves. More elves, but too far away. The Wolf leaped, and I didn’t have time to throw myself backwards out of my chair. He’d pounced on a nearer target. Across the table from me, his front legs wrapped around Elizabeth. Claws dug into her princess gown. Teeth settled loosely against her throat, hardly dimpling it. She jerked in his arms, babbling, “What? What’s happening? What’s … going on?” Drunk, confused, she lay back against the monster and her eyes spun and darted.

  Hot anger warred with cold fear. He was going to kill Elizabeth to get at me, and she deserved it a lot less than I did. Cold won, creeping over me as I spoke, “Rat-In-Boots said you’d find me, no matter where I went. He said the story would make it happen.” I was babbling like a stupid little girl. Appropriate.

  “Then he’s only half a fool,” the Wolf replied, sounding so utterly calm. The table wasn’t nearly wide enough. I could smell the fur and blood, and watch his animal lips move around Elizabeth’s throat as he continued, “The story is the story of my love. I followed you because I love you, and I will follow you to the ends of the Earth for that love. I live for love, and I’ve killed for love, and I’ve faced the axe for love. My love for the girl in the red will conquer all.” Crap, that voice. It didn’t seduce, it promised. He meant it.

  Which was stupid. “You don’t love me. All I am is a girl in a red hood to you,” I stammered. He was about to kill me, and he’d kill poor Elizabeth first, but I couldn’t stop myself from arguing.

  He chuckled, teeth bouncing against Elizabeth’s neck. Please don’t let them tighten. “Isn’t that enough? Love is not one single, true, and perfect flower. I have loved girls who were innocent, and girls who were corrupt, and girls who were eager and passionate, and girls broken by fear. I loved them to their last breath, and I love you, Red Riding Hood.”

  “I’m not Red Riding Hood! My name is Mary!” I tried to yell. It came out a pathetic squeak.

  “Every Red Riding Hood had a name, my love,” the Wolf purred, unmoved. No, he was moved. Pale blue canine eyes stared right at me. He wanted me so badly, he wasn’t paying the slightest attention to Elizabeth. Not that he had to. “Every girl is her own unique person, but conquering her is always the same. I admit, I’ve grown jaded. Blood is blood, and meat is meat, and kisses are kisses, and sweet girlish
curves are sweet girlish curves. Then I met you. With you, love feels like it’s new again, and I would walk into the arms of death for it.”

  Meaningless sweet talk, the kind of promise any boy makes to a girl. Except I believed every word. Especially the words ‘blood’ and ‘meat.’

  Say something, Mary. Outwit him. Something.

  Instead, I let him finish. “Let me get to know you, Red. Let me see your true heart, under that deliciously fiery mask. I’ll give you a choice. Come to me willingly. Walk into my embrace on your own feet. Or refuse, and maybe you’ll escape me, but she dies. I don’t have a preference. Choose with your heart, that’s all I ask.”

  I had to move. I had to stop sitting here and move. I pushed myself awkwardly to my feet. Rat leaped off the table and clung to my sleeve. It was stupid, but that made me feel just better enough to think. “I won’t let someone die for me. If I did, would I be worth anyone’s love?” I spat those words in disgust, because I meant them.

  He was hooked. There were no words to his growl, just pleasure and even more desire. His teeth remained in Elizabeth’s throat. So I walked slowly, trying not to trip over lead feet and knees that didn’t want to support me. The huge table made it a long walk, all the way up to the end where the Queen sat, ignoring all of us. She didn’t care. The fairies didn’t care. They were quiet, maybe interested, but they didn’t care. The Queen wasn’t even watching, not even as I walked past her.

  Someone sure cared when I reached out to slap her across the face. The previous impacts had left me stiff and sore, and the world tumbled and it hurt as bodies slammed into me from every direction I wasn’t looking. I’d gotten close, and they piled onto me in vengeance. I got a close-up and uncomfortable view of twigs, and hair, and muscle, as heavy things pinned me to the grass. They’d cared about that, all right.

  So did the Wolf. He howled. He screamed. He’d meant his declarations of deranged love, and that scream of fury got louder as he leapt onto the pile of freaks who’d attacked me. I spilled out as he tore at them, but now they cared. Fairies climbed out of their seats, onto the grass and onto the table, charging into the ball of twisting flesh that spilled blood, and glitter, and sap, and things I couldn’t identify. Fairies died, thrown out of the melee as the Wolf broke them, but there were so many, I didn’t know who was winning.

  That all became moot as the flailing Wolf happened to swat the Queen with a foot, and one of his claws scratched her forearm.

  She screamed. It hit me, it filled the air, it blotted out all other noise. The ground pitched and shook. Trees fell down at the edges of the green. New trees and rocks thrust up out of the ground. The table bent and splintered in two places. Doors opened out of the air. Doors everywhere, with a different view behind each of them. Fairies charged out of some of them or fled into others.

  Rat jumped up and grabbed the hem of my skirt. His teeth were smeared with a yellow goo that might be fairy blood. I closed my fist around him immediately, yanking him free of the fabric. “Get her out of here! This is her only chance!” I shrieked at him, hoping my voice could carry three inches over the Queen’s primal, incoherent bellow. Then, I threw him hard, and he hit Elizabeth right in the bodice of her fancy gown.

  Alone as usual, I spun around and dove into the nearest door. Please, Rat-In-Boots, be as smart as I thought you were, and make Elizabeth do the same.

  ideways became up as I passed through the door. I tried to roll as I hit the ground, but it turns out that’s not easy. My shoulder and side hurt. I did roll a few feet, so maybe it did help. It was hard to tell. I was so tired.

  I’d hardly noticed being tired and hungry in Fairyland. Now exhaustion weighed me down and my belly gnawed at me. I’d hit the ground somewhere dark, but I could see light. Pushing myself up, I trudged out into the brighter shadows of a rocky nighttime field. I didn’t see any buildings. I did see a flat space and a log. I bunched up the hood and cape to cushion my wooden pillow and fell asleep. I knew I should be running from the Wolf, but I couldn’t run anyway.

  I woke up eventually, to bright sun and a hollow, aching hunger. I had no idea where I was, but it wasn’t Fairyland. This place was weird, but it wasn’t surreal. Rocks, small hills, bushes, and a lot of moss and lichen summed up the landscape. Anything that wasn’t green was black. The dark place I’d come out of last night turned out to be a cave in the sharply vertical hill nearby.

  Man, I was hungry. Hungry and alone.

  I’d have to learn to take care of myself without a talking rat. I wasn’t too sore when I stood up and looked around. I admit, I didn’t see anything that looked like it could be eaten. Could I learn to hunt? AND make fire? I’d have to learn pretty fast.

  Smoke wisped up over the edge of a ridge. I could see it, so I could walk there. Smoke might mean people, who would have food. Or it might mean something else entirely. I wasn’t getting anywhere standing here. I walked.

  My new shoes ate up the ground, refusing to slip on anything and ignoring the sharpest looking rocks. Boy, what had the magic shoes been like? I was so hungry. A smell of eggs made it worse, and the smoke ahead looked more like steam. I climbed up to the top of the ridge and looked down into a wide cup filled with steaming pools. Ha! Hot springs! I knew it!

  Hot springs weren’t food, but a bath would be nice. A bath would be very nice. I’d mostly gotten rid of the slime when I changed into this disastrously stupid Red Riding Hood costume, which merely left me sweaty, dingy, and smeared with Halloween makeup. I felt dirty and hungry, and feeling clean and hungry would be an improvement.

  I wrestled my shoes off, and dipped a toe into a pool. Ow! Okay, too hot. What about the others? A few tests and a distinct feeling that my toes had been roasted later, I found a pool that was bearably hot. I untied the god-awful hood and flung it on a rock, then twisted out of the silly red and white dress and threw it on top. My underwear hadn’t done anything to offend me, but I flung it down just as hard. Teach it to stand in the way of my bath!

  Gingerly, wincing at the heat, I slid into the pool. Lethargically, I dunked my hair and scrubbed my face, but the hot water felt too good. After that, I just crouched in the middle and baked.

  Something moved. The Wolf? No. An older teenage boy, shockingly blonde, leaned over the edge of the bowl holding the hot springs. That wasn’t as bad as the Wolf, even if I was stark naked, but the crossbow he had pointed at me supplied plenty of menace.

  “What’s your name, girl?” It was accent day. His wasn’t as thick as Elizabeth’s, and I couldn’t place it.

  “F—” I started, and gritted my teeth. A promise was a promise even if Rat-In-Boots wasn’t here to hear me break it, and even if I’d never said the words ‘I promise.’ “Why? Will it make a difference in whether or not you shoot me?” I snarled back instead.

  “I’ll try not to shoot you, girl,” he replied. He was so smug, talking slowly and savoring every word as he went on, “Why damage what is now mine? Unless you have some guardian to fight me for you, I claim you as spoils. Step out of the water and face me.”

  “I’m naked, you idiot!” I yelled back at him.

  “I know,” he answered, all gloating delight. “Out of the water.”

  Another noise, and someone else’s head rose up over the ridge behind the boy. Another teenager, this time a girl with skin as pale as mine and peroxide blonde hair. She stared at me for a moment, and then she and the boy jerked. I didn’t see what she’d done behind the rock ledge, but he yelped in pain as she shouted, “Are you blind, stupid, or perverted, Eric? She can’t have passed eleven winters!”

  “She’ll grow up eve—ow! Okay, I didn’t mean that! I didn’t!” ‘Eric’ barked back. He hadn’t. I knew how a boy looked at a girl when he was interested. Eric had just been bullying me.

  “Then what did you mean, treating a stranger and a child like some prize in a raid?” the girl pushed.

  “I wanted to draw out her guard for a duel! She can’t be out here alone!” he squeaked back. It was su
rreal how guilty and desperate he looked and sounded. He’d just been pointing a bow at me! Now the bow lay there as the platinum blonde laid into him.

  “And that’s better? Eric, do you know who the girl’s family are? Her chief, and king, and nation? Do we have a war against them? Do you want to start one? Do you even know the difference between a hero and a bandit?” From the boy’s repeated grunts, I thought she kept on kicking him.

  The kicks didn’t seem to do much, but he admitted grudgingly, “… you’re right, Valdis. I went too far. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re such a jackass sometimes, Eric,” she sighed. Then, she stepped up onto the edge of the bowl. She wore a long blue shirt and white pants, and she called down to me, “You’re the one who deserves an apology, stranger. Please don’t judge us by how we met. If he’d spent more than half a thought and understood what he was doing, he wouldn’t have threatened you.”

  “That’s not real reassuring,” I replied noncommitally. I was still butt naked in a hot spring I didn’t want to stand up in with two armed teenagers. Yes, armed. The girl had a sword at her waist.

  She dropped to one knee, punched Eric in the top of his head, and lowered her own. “No, it is not. Please, I apologize for both of us. Let us make amends somehow. I swear, Eric is a rude stranger but a good friend. I’d like to prove it.”

  “I don’t see how you can,” I groused. My stomach immediately made its own demand. “But if you’ve got any food, it would be a start.”

  “Our hospitality is yours, in our homes and on the trail,” she answered, taking me seriously. “When you are clothed, we will share our meal with you, or if you wish you may leave and we will not follow. Either way, Eric and I will be facing the other way with our eyes closed.”

  The last ended in a needling tone that got a glare from the boy. A glare that ended as his face turned solemn as well. He turned around, disappearing behind the rocks, and I heard him call, “Valdis is right. About everything. I apologize, stranger.” His voice rasped with the effort of forcing that apology. That made me, just maybe, inclined to believe it. The apologies that are easy to make are the ones people don’t mean.