“You have a plan,” said Tia. “Tell me you have a plan.”
Connie held her knuckledusters for everyone to see. They crackled with raw power. The fae security forces gasped collectively. A dragon inhaled some of its own fire and started coughing clouds of smoke.
“Here’s the situation,” said Connie. “You can either let us leave, or we can watch this city explode together.”
10
The gnome escorted Connie into the warehouse. They passed the dragon guardian, who grumbled at them.
The wardrobe was opened for them.
“Are you going to tell me not to come back?” asked Connie.
“Would you listen?” asked the gnome. “All of us in the realms know we owe you a lot. King Oberon might be the life and breath of this land, but he’s a stuffy old bastard. Still, if we catch you without those iron scraps, we’ll have to take you in. You understand.”
“I do.”
“As it is, I’m going to get chewed out for this one. I like you, and I like this city. And Oberon wouldn’t mind watching this city being obliterated if you were vaporized along with it. The only reason I’ll get away with it is because he’d rather see you pitted than destroyed. Now get out of here.” He smiled. “And don’t come back.”
“You got it.”
Connie and Tia stepped through the wardrobe and back into the mortal world. The wardrobe doors slammed shut. Connie wrapped the chains around it, just in case the fae changed their mind.
Tia picked up the knuckledusters. They’d stopped glowing but remained warm to the touch.
“I can’t believe we made it out of there alive,” said Tia. “We’ve been in some tight spots before, but that was almost as bad as the time I was kidnapped by that swamp creature. I thought we’d had it for sure then.”
“Oh, yeah.” Connie smiled. “I’d forgotten about that.”
“I wish I could.” The creature had courted her with piles of dead fish and possums and a screechy, warbling love song. The creature might have been a perfect gentleman, aside from the abduction, but she still shuddered, recollecting the stink of his lair.
Connie said, “What’s funny is all the adventures start to blend together after a while. I remember the quiet times far more. Remember that time we went to that Italian restaurant and had that awesome cheesecake? That was amazing, and I don’t even like cheesecake.”
Everyone measured their life by the memorable bits, and those bits weren’t the things they did every day. Connie’s fondest memories weren’t of last-minute escapes from crumbling temples or sword fights with cross-time pirates. Those were unremarkable events. But a quiet moment with her best friend, talking about nothing important over dessert, was a rarity to be treasured.
Honestly, the cheesecake hadn’t been that good.
It didn’t matter. It was the experience that counted.
“Where are we going now?” asked Tia.
Connie removed the glass marble from her pocket and held it up to the light. “Looks like Florida.”
She tossed the marble to Tia, who glanced through it. It was a miniature globe, but when turned, it focused on a close up of North America, then Florida, then a small house in a small neighborhood.
“Why would a fairy godmother be in Florida?”
Connie took the marble back and dropped it in her pocket. “Guess we’ll find out when we ask her.”
11
The broken-down house might have aspired to be a charming cottage in its heyday, but it’d long before abandoned such ambitions and was little more than a decaying ramshackle home in desperate need of repair. A window was boarded up. The lawn was nothing but dirt and yellowed grass.
“This can’t be it,” said Tia.
Connie checked the marble, which was flashing with a soft light, humming in her hands. It’d been doing so since they’d landed in Florida.
The front gate was rusted shut, but they walked around through the gap in the fallen picket fence beside it. Connie tried the broken doorbell. She knocked. Nobody answered.
“Maybe she’s not home,” said Tia.
Connie knocked again. Harder, this time.
“Go away!” shouted someone from inside the house. “No solicitors!”
The door wasn’t locked. Connie pushed it open. Before she could take a step inside, a lightning bolt blasted a hole in the door. Connie and Tia jumped back.
“I said, ‘No solicitors!’ ” yelled Grandmother Willow. “Get the fuck out of here, or I’ll shove this wand so far up your ass, you’ll swear I enchanted your colon.”
To illustrate the point, a few flashes and thunderclaps echoed from inside.
“This is the place,” said Connie.
She slipped on her iron knuckledusters.
Tia said, “You aren’t going to just kill her, are you?”
Connie shrugged. “That was kind of the plan from the start.”
“You can’t seriously be planning on beating a fairy godmother to death with your bare hands? That’s pretty brutal.”
Connie tightened her grip on her knuckledusters. “Why did I bring you along, again?”
“So you’d have someone to talk you out of doing something you’d regret.”
“I can hear you out there!” shouted Grandmother Willow. “Get off my property!”
“You don’t know if killing her will even solve your problem yet,” whispered Tia. “What if it only makes it worse? Or maybe you need her alive to reverse the spell. Did you think of that?”
Connie mumbled, “No, I guess I didn’t.”
“Hey, I’m your friend. If I thought it would help you, I’d hold this old lady down while you bashed her skull in.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
“No, I wouldn’t. But I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to do it. We have to be smart about this. You should talk to her before you kill her. If you decide you still want to kill her.”
Connie grumbled. “I guess you’re right.”
“You know I’m right.”
Grandmother Willow, in a dirty pink bathrobe, flung open the front door and stepped onto her porch. Her hair was a mess. A cigarette hung from her lips, and her eyes were bloodshot and sunken.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”
She pulled a gray mouse from her robe pocket and dropped it at her feet. She waved her wand, which sparked and sputtered as it sprinkled glittering dust onto the rodent. The mouse grew into a hulking brutish humanoid covered in fur with an adorable face and twitching ears.
“Show them the way out, my dear.”
The mouse monster scampered away, seeking shelter under an old, rotted tree in the yard. The uprooted tree fell over and smashed a hole in the house’s roof. The monster cowered under a few roots.
“Damn it.” Grandmother Willow shook her wand. “This fucking thing isn’t worth a damn anymore.” She pointed the wand at Connie and Tia, but before Grandmother Willow could launch a lightning bolt, the wand exploded in her face. Swearing, she beat the sparks out of her hair.
“Should we do something?” asked Tia.
“She’s fine,” said Connie.
After smothering the flames, Grandmother Willow grumbled. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying. I don’t want to hear about whatever gods you’re fortunate or foolish enough to believe in. And I don’t grant wishes, if that’s what you’re here for. That is a genie. I’m a whole different thing. Or I was.” Grandmother Willow wiped her watering eyes and took her first real look at Connie.
“Oh, shit. It’s you.” Grandmother Willow sneered. Her left eye twitched. She blew out her smoking wand.
“You remember me?” asked Connie.
“You’re Constance Verity, child. How could I not remember you? I was wondering if you’d ever try to find me.”
She stumbled back inside.
“Well, are you coming in, or did you come all this way just to watch an ex-godmother make a fool of herself?”
Connie and Tia followed Grandmother
Willow into her home. The place was a mess of old newspapers, dusty furniture, and mice. So many mice scampering about underfoot, in the open, across the coffee table. The only sources of light were an old TV bathing everything in a pale blue and what sunlight managed to filter through the tree branches over the fresh hole in the ceiling.
Grandmother Willow flopped onto a floral-print couch covered in plastic. Staring at the TV, she asked, “You two want a wine cooler or something? I think I have some gingerbread in the oven. It’s a week old but probably still good.”
“No. Thank you,” said Connie.
“Suit yourself.” Grandmother Willow snapped her fingers. Several mice, carrying a bottle, scurried out of the kitchen and handed it to her. “Thanks, fellas.” She twisted the cap off and chugged the cooler.
“Are you going to stand there like a couple of idiots? Take a seat.”
A rolling office chair and a recliner ambled over to Connie and Tia. The recliner waddled slowly on its stubby legs, and the office chair knocked over a pile of newspapers.
“Ah, hell, I just got those organized.”
Connie and Tia took mercy on the walking furniture and navigated the mess to sit down.
“You must have a lot of questions,” said Grandmother Willow.
“What the hell happened to you, Grandmother Willow?” asked Connie.
Grandmother Willow snorted. “It’s Thelma. Grandmother Willow was my godmother name. I lost that when I lost my license.”
Thelma snorted.
“You happened to me, child. Someone like you. Except not you. You’re the lucky one. You turned out all right. Took to my blessing rather well, but I suppose someone was bound to eventually. I must say I’m surprised it was you. You didn’t leave much of an impression on me. There was a girl in Munich who I thought had such potential. But these things are unpredictable.”
“There are others?” asked Tia. “Like Connie?”
“Like Constance? No, there aren’t any others like her. She survived her blessing. Many others didn’t. A life of adventure isn’t for the weak. There were many candidates, but only one could fill the role.”
“You twisted old bitch,” said Connie. “How long have you been doing this?”
“Me? I’m just a glorified delivery faerie. I go where I’m told, bestowing enchantments as directed. Just a drudge in the Godmother Corps. Or I was, until I lost my license. And it’s all because of you. Or someone like you but not so fortunate.”
“Hang on,” said Connie. “My parents told me you said I chose my blessing.”
Thelma chuckled. “That was a bit of showmanship. I am—I was a professional. I could’ve darted in while you were asleep, sprinkled some faerie dust on your head when no one was looking, with none the wiser. Classic tooth fairy stealth method. The results would’ve been the same. But I took pride in making my blessings memorable. Funny. Now it’s come to bite me on the ass, because if I hadn’t, you would’ve probably never found me. Although what difference does that make now?”
She sat up and half-smiled. “I’m actually glad you’re here. The problem with being ageless is that I can only die if I choose to, and I haven’t the gumption for that.”
“You know she came here to kill you?” asked Tia.
Thelma sat up. “What? Connie, is this true?”
Connie removed her knuckledusters from her pocket and set them on her lap. “Yes, that’s why I’m here.”
Thelma frowned. “Oh, child, what has this life done to you? This isn’t you.”
“That’s what I keep saying,” said Tia.
“Damn it, I’ve killed before.”
Thelma said, “Go ahead, then. Do it, if you must. There’s a certain poetic justice to it. The one who survived taking revenge for all the ones that didn’t.”
Connie clinked her iron knuckledusters together on her lap while she sized up the pathetic old faerie. Thelma was no monster, no space Nazi, no malevolent sorcerer. She wasn’t even as threatening as the evil genius hamster that Connie had once stomped to save Australia.
“Damn it.”
Thelma grunted. “I knew you couldn’t do it.”
“Can we get back to the others?” said Tia. “What did you mean by that?”
“You didn’t think you were the only one? There were others. A little over a hundred. For many, it didn’t take. A few years of adventure before falling into an ordinary life. For others, they eventually ran across an adventure they couldn’t triumph over. Those are the ones that bother me.
“I didn’t think much of them at the time. Mortal lives are so short, I thought it wasn’t important. Then I realized that just made it worse. We fae live for thousands of years, and with so many centuries before us, time becomes a meaningless commodity. But for mortals, every day is a gift, gone and never to return. Once I understood this, I saw myself for the monster I was.
“When I started questioning orders, it was inevitable that there would be consequences. I never thought the corps would take away my license and banish me to this wretched world. If I had, I probably would’ve kept my big mouth shut.”
A team of mice pulled off her slippers and gave her a foot massage.
“Ah, that’s the spot, guys. Thanks.”
“If you’re genuinely sorry,” said Connie, “you’ll tell me how to break the spell.”
“Are you certain you want to do that?” asked Thelma.
“Why does everyone keep asking me that? For the last time, yes.”
“There’s an old saying in the Godmother Corps. Be careful what you wish for. But if I could undo the blessing upon you, I’d do it. Alas, child, it isn’t that simple. If it were a mere enchantment, I might be able to unmake it, provided I had the correct supplies around here. But we aren’t talking about a simple enchantment here. This is a complicated compulsion, one that reaches into the very core of who you have become and the universe around you. It’s woven into your soul. You can’t simply mumble an incantation and remove it like an old coat you’re tired of wearing.
“I may have planted the seed in you, but you nurtured it with every adventure you undertook, every monster you slew, every narrow escape, every larger-than-life exploit. The seed grew because of your actions. I set you on the path, but you chose to stay on it.”
“I don’t need this metaphysical bullshit,” said Connie.
“Metaphysical bullshit aside, you survived, child. You managed, against all sensible odds, to live against a tide of unending danger and grow up. You made that choice.”
“What was my other choice? To die?”
“You still don’t get it,” said Thelma. “You still think you couldn’t run away from this. You could’ve at any time. You still can.”
“I’ve tried ignoring it. It doesn’t work.”
“Maybe you haven’t tried hard enough. Do you know why people have dreary, ordinary lives? For some, it never is a choice. But for others, it is a very deliberate decision. They focus on the minutiae, ignore the world around them, and live with no greater concern than themselves and their cares. To be sure, it’s been harder for you, but it was always possible. Every candidate that rejected the enchantment did so by simply losing interest in adventure, and eventually, adventure returned the favor. If you really want to undo the spell, the next time aliens attack or disaster strikes, don’t get involved. Just let it be. Just see these things like most people do. Not your problem.”
“So, just stand aside and let bad things happen?” asked Connie.
Thelma half-smiled. “You can’t do it, can you? All this time, you’ve been blaming that spell placed on you, when it’s been your fault all along.”
Connie slipped on her knuckledusters. “Changed my mind. I am going to beat the shit out of you.”
“That might make you feel better, Connie, but it won’t give you the answers you’re looking for. If you insist on getting the spell removed, I can’t do it. But I do know who ordered it placed on you.”
“I don’t need you for that,�
�� said Connie. “I can just go to Godmother Corps records to find that out.”
“Your operation was off the books, strictly hush-hush. There are no records. Hell, even I only met one contact in person. He’s the one who gave me the enchanted dust and the list of candidates that had your name on it.”
“Are we talking about a shadowy conspiracy to enchant children into becoming superheroes?” asked Tia.
“I’m not a superhero,” said Connie.
“Close enough. Why would anyone do that?”
“You’d have to ask him,” said Thelma. “I can’t say if it’s a conspiracy or if it’s just this individual. His goals? Beats the hell out of me. How your name got on that list?” She shrugged. “But if you’re looking for answers, you should talk to him.”
Connie said, “You know who he is?”
“No, but I can tell you where to find him. I put a tracking hex on him. Just in case. I have it around here somewhere. Let me find it for you. Then, if you want, you can still punch the hell out of me. I deserve it. But let me at least try to make amends.”
Connie considered. “All right. Give me the tracking spell, and we’ll see what happens after that.”
Thelma fluttered her wings through the holes in her robe and floated in the air. “Wonderful. Now, I know it’s around here somewhere, but the place is a bit of a mess.” She directed the mice to begin searching the house, and the hundreds of rodents skittered about as an organized force.
“Can we help?” asked Tia. “What’s it look like?”
“Oh, just an old scroll around here somewhere. I bet it’s upstairs. We’ll find it.” Thelma hovered halfway up the stairs but landed to catch her breath. “I really need to hit the gym again.” She walked the rest of the way, disappearing at the top of the steps.
The mice continued to zip around the piles of old newspapers and along the shelves. They opened drawers and worked in teams to paw through musty old books, page by page.
“She wants to help,” said Tia.
“She wants to save her skin,” said Connie.
“Does it matter, if she gets you what you want?”
Connie shrugged. “I suppose not. But I was hoping I could just kill her and be done with it, but that would be too easy.”
The Last Adventure of Constance Verity Page 7