by Sarah Noffke
“Maybe you need to listen to Luna,” Navi said, flying over to hover beside Finnegan’s face.
“Oh, nonsense. You lot are paranoid.” Finnegan reached up and cranked the sprinkler faucet, manually turning it on. Water first dripped from the misters overhead and then it drizzled over the herbs below with a gentle mist.
Finnegan strode off toward the exit, looking forward to enjoying his lunch. He had a date with a meatball sandwich and bottle of honeysuckle mead.
Chapter One
Finswick, the cat swatted at a stargazer moth as it tried to find an escape route along the window sill. Smack. The black and white feline smashed the insect against the glass, its guts oozing onto the pane. He leaned down and scooped the moth into his mouth.
“I need you to come back in one piece.” Monet’s voice rang from the far side of the cabinet chamber. “My source at the Dark Market says his supply of Cheetos is drying up, so we’ll need to pop off to Earth soon. This is a matter of life or death.”
Azure rose from her seat, the heat of the fireplace making her too warm. “Ever, by now I don’t have to tell you to ignore Monet, right?”
The Light Elf smiled at Queen Azure and shook his head. “I’ll be back in a day, maybe two. It shouldn’t take me long to travel to the beach and bring your father back.”
Azure trotted to the other side of the table and pulled out a seat as far from the fireplace as possible. By rights she should be chilly in her sleeveless dress. The bodice was lined with black leather and the skirt was comprised of long orange strips of chiffon. Since becoming queen, her dresses had become more demanding and heavier. The seamstress seemed to think that the young queen needed an edgier look than her mother. Whereas Emeri was elegance and refinery, Azure was dressed like a queen with a flair for rebellion.
Gran eyed Azure with a twinkle in her eyes.
“Okay, well, we might not be here when you return.” Azure fanned her face with her hand as her cheeks grew hotter.
“Can’t you stay until I return?” Ever asked, pushing to a standing position and pressing his hands on to the table before leaning forward.
“We could, but then we’d be two days behind. I need to find the rogue dryads as soon as possible,” Azure said.
“Hey, when Emperor Lame-ass says he’s going to take drastic action, we need to go and find someone to fight our battles for us,” Monet chipped in.
“That’s not what we’re doing. The rogue dryads want to punish the people from the Land of Terran. We’re just going to help them. Win-win.” Azure pulled at the corset of her dress. She was going to murder the seamstress and all her fucking fairy servants.
“Don’t worry. I know the mountains well,” Gillian said from his place at the far end of the table. He always placed himself as far from the others as possible.
“So there you go. We’ve got the gnome who won’t tell us a damn thing. What are you worried about? We are only looking for a tiny little book in a gigantic mountain range with zero idea where to start.” Monet leaned back, his hands on either side of his head.
“Oh well, I’ll just set off now and hope to return before your departure.” Ever stood tall, popping his collar up.
Did he look worried? Ever had agreed to journey to the ocean to retrieve Richard, but he’d appeared increasingly on edge since the cabinet had started discussing plans to retrieve the Book of Branches.
“Don’t die, dearest WhatEver,” Monet said in a sing-song voice as the Light Elf headed for the exit with tension making his shoulders sit up higher.
Finswick hopped up onto the surface of the table, earning a contemptuous glare from Gillian. The feline pranced across it and deposited the still half-alive moth in front of the queen mother.
“Oh, you read my mind. That’s exactly what I need!” Gran rapped her wand on the surface of the table. The moth shrunk in on itself and then blossomed into a hand fan. Gran plucked it from the table, unlatching it. “Here you are, dear Azure. A self-waving fan.”
The fan unfolded and hovered in the air for a moment before swishing back and forth, creating a steady flow of air in Azure’s direction.
“Oh, thank Merlin! That’s better,” Azure said, leaning back in her chair.
“I daresay you’re probably dehydrated. When was the last time you had something to drink?” Gran asked, flicking her wand at a pitcher of water on the side table. A goblet of water glided through the air to land just in front of Azure.
“About the last time I had a proper meal,” Azure admitted, thirstily eyeing the water for a moment. Since she’d become queen, there hadn’t been time for much besides working and sleeping. Even now her eyelids felt heavy, like they were lying on the surface of the table under her. Shaking off the exhaustion, Azure faced Gillian. “I’d like to leave at first light tomorrow. Does that work for you?”
The gnome nodded, his bulbous nose appearing red from the firelight behind him. “I shall be ready to go, Queen Azure.”
“I shall be sleeping in, Queen Butt-face,” Monet said.
Gillian spun and narrowed his eyes at him. “I must object to your disrespect. This is your queen, and you’d do well to remember some manners.”
“I must object to your ass-kissing. You’d do well not to take yourself so seriously, Little Bit.” Monet turned to Finswick, who sat regally next to Azure, and snapped, “Go find me something Gran can turn into a lager or ale. I’m parched.”
The feline stretched to a standing position and bounded off the table.
“Monet, if you’re going with us, then you’ll leave at first light. And I’ll remind you that gnomes are native to the mountains. He’ll be a great resource to us on this expedition, so mind your tongue or I’ll turn you into a salamander with a very short tail,” Azure said.
“Why would I have a short tail?” Monet asked.
“Oh, that’s not a part of the spell. It’s just that the salamander will resemble you in human form,” the queen mother remarked. She’d looked cheerier since joining the cabinet; it was like her purpose had been renewed. Azure knew Gran didn’t care for court business, but she liked being in the know. And as a cabinet member she still had time for crafting spells, time being something she was never afforded when she was queen. If Azure could only find such easy solutions to bring purpose and happiness for her people.
“Like you know how big my—”
“Anyway, I think we’re done here.” Azure cut Monet off, shaking her head. Soon she’d appoint two more cabinet members, and then all who sat at the table would need to behave, if only marginally.
“Oh, and look—Finswick brought you something,” Gran said as the feline hopped up onto the table. The cat laid a huge roach in front of Monet, its back legs still twitching.
“Would you like me to spell that into a drink? It will taste like the bug’s guts and leave you belching for hours.” The queen mother wore a sickly-sweet expression on her wrinkled face.
“I’ll pass,” Monet said, gesturing to Azure. “Come on, Queeny. We’re going to the pub. I need you to buy me a few drinks.”
Azure eyed the tall glass of water she hadn’t found time to drink and reached for the goblet, thinking she’d at least wet her mouth.
Monet aimed his wand at the goblet and it exploded, drenching the two witches next to it with water. “Oops!” Monet said, not at all sounding remorseful. “Looks like we’d better get a real drink.”
Chapter Two
A large harpy swooped through the air overhead—the Duke of Terran knew better than to venture into the Dark Forest without a bodyguard. In his peripheral vision, Phillip spied the blinking red eyes. He knew that the rogue dryads were lurking in the forest, waiting for a chance to corner him and turn him into a statue for his misdeeds. That was where the stupid forest nymphs were wrong. Yes, under his rule the forest had been depleted, but he saw that as the forest’s problem rather than a problem resulting from the humans of Terran’s overuse. The humans on Earth had figured out how to innovate things so th
ey worked better. The forest needed to learn how to do that too.
The rogue dryads were unwilling to chance apprehending the Duke as long as he had the protection of the harpies, and once he was inside the borders of the Land of Terran he was safe. Stupid woods creatures wanted vengeance, but had no strategy. Their heads had to be filled with termites.
“Hey, you can get off my back now, rogue dryads,” Phillip said, waving a potion bottle in the air. He tipped it and a single droplet splattered on the dead forest ground. As soon as the drop hit, bright green seedlings slipped through the dirt, rising higher and higher until they grew into long ferns, vines, figs, and fast-growing birches. The regrowing potion had been a fruitful investment. Phillip had bargained with the harpies to protect him while he secured the potion from Charmsgood, and all it had cost him was the expense of feeding the large birds. However, because of the Orcs, the birds hadn’t been fed in quite some time. That was the part he’d have to remedy soon. The harpies had to be fed, or the alliance would fail.
Vines grew where moments prior there’d only been barren soil. Phillip extended his hand to a birch sapling. With his sheer will he leeched the energy from the tree, which hadn’t existed moments ago. The power flowed into him, filling his chest with a fresh buzz of energy. The birch tree paled, turning from white to an ashen gray. The wind gusted and the tree was swept away, now nothing but soon-to-decay roots.
Phillip reflected on the forest around him. Soon it would be strong enough to harvest. It was becoming more dangerous for the humans of Terran to venture into the forest to fill their magical reserves, and to find something worth bringing back for harvest wasn’t easy since the forest was barren all around their borders. Venturing too far was a risk, even with the harpies guarding overhead.
“Is it my turn yet?” a woman asked from the shadows.
Phillip had stationed her there, telling her to stay quiet until he’d restored part of the forest and leeched some of it. He lifted his head and regarded the woman, who wore a mink stole and camouflage pants—both garments that were depicted in advertisements from Earth.
“Yes, Mary. It’s your turn.” Phillip waved the woman forward. “I need you to stand right here first, though.”
“But why?” the woman asked.
“Because the only way the harpies will protect you is if they meet you first,” Phillip said, shaking his head at her like this should be obvious.
“Oh, of course. I’m happy to meet them if they’ll keep me safe,” the woman chirped with a loud laugh.
“They’ll keep you safe, all right.” Phillip flipped up the collar of his trench coat and changed places with Mary.
She raised her head to the sky, where the large winged beasts soared. “They are quite scary, aren’t they? And those faces! They’re like women, but without any beauty.”
“Yes, they are quite strange-looking, but some might call that beauty in itself. I know I recognize them as lovely.” Phillip took another step backward, now completely covered by shadows. “She’s all yours.”
A screech resounded overhead. A harpy flapped her wings, staring down at the human with her black eyes. The others rose higher in the air, circling around the single harpy. The low-altitude harpy’s striped feathers vibrated as the half-vulture, half-woman took in large breaths.
“What’s it doing?” Mary asked, her voice suddenly frantic.
“She’s preparing to hunt,” Phillip said from the shadows.
“What!” Mary spun on her toes and sprinted for the trees far in the distance.
The harpy dove, rocketing toward the ground with an ear-splitting howl. Mary dropped to the forest floor, covering the back of her head with her arms. The harpy’s claws hovered just over the woman’s shoulders before clamping around her arms.
“No!” Mary yelled, kicking as the harpy lifted her into the air. “Phillip! How could you?”
Phillip turned, putting his back to the abduction. He’d need to quickly erase it from his mind. The harpies had to be fed, and since he didn’t have a witch or wizard to offer he had to sacrifice his own people. This was what a great leader did. They made the hard decisions. They spared the many by using the few. This was something that Emperor Frederick wouldn’t ever be taught to do. This is what I was born to do, he thought. The harpy’s screams faded as she drifted farther into the Dark Forest.
Chapter Three
“Would you like something to eat, Queen Azure?” Trixie asked, her wand in one hand and notepad in the other.
“Just a pitcher of ale,” Monet answered. “We are setting off on a long and hard expedition bright and early tomorrow. Can’t have your mashed peas and roast duck giving us stomach cramps while we’re hiking.”
Trixie tossed her long silver hair over her shoulder and peered down her nose at Azure. “I only tolerate him because of you.”
“Thanks, Trixie. I must have been cursed by a centaur, because I’m not at all sure why I tolerate him,” she said.
Trixie nodded and spun, headed for the bar.
“Because I’m brilliantly charming and seductively handsome.” Monet leaned his head on Azure’s shoulder.
“I can guarantee that your charm doesn’t work on me, and you’re about as handsome as a disfigured sea dinosaur born to runt parents.”
“Oh—you’re in denial. I get it. So what is your type? Because I’m willing to become that to earn my rightful place as king,” Monet said.
Azure shivered, her face grimacing like she was going to be sick. “If there was anything in my stomach, it would spill out of me right now.”
“Are you into the Light Elf? Maybe the gnome has gotten your attention with his orange hair and incessant use of titles?” Monet sank low in the booth, bowing over as he did. “Queen Azure, will you have a ladder brought so I can more easily kiss your ass?” His voice was low like Gillian’s and his eyes were soft, like he was pouting.
Trixie trotted over and slid a pitcher of ale onto the table. She deposited two cloudy mugs in front of Azure and Monet. “Enjoy, Queen Azure.”
“What about me? Don’t you want me to enjoy?” Monet asked, offense in his voice.
“No. I’ve poisoned your mug.” Trixie cast a disgusted look over her shoulder as she sped back to the bar.
Monet switched the mugs before filling them to the brim.
“You know, I actually could use something to eat. I haven’t had a single morsel of food all day,” Azure said, raising the beer mug to her mouth. The foam met her lips.
Monet waved her off. “I’m doing you a favor. You don’t want to be a fat queen.”
“At this point I’m a starving one.”
“Oh, you’re so fucking dramatic. Here.” Monet reached into his robes and dropped a fun-sized bag of Cheetos onto the table. “Consider that my coronation present.”
“Wow. I’m simply overwhelmed by your generosity.” Her voice was devoid of any emotion.
“Fine, be ungrateful, but I’m doing you a favor. You can drink at the Ghoul’s Tavern, but don’t eat here. Trust me. The last time I had the shepherd’s pie I couldn’t sit for a week.”
Azure took a long sip of her beer, enjoying the refreshment. “You ever consider that you offer a few too many details sometimes?”
“Nope.” Monet grabbed the bag of Cheetos and pulled it open. “Can you believe it? We’ve finally made it. You’ve become a lovely figurehead the people pretend to follow, knowing that I’m the one who is actually in charge. I’m sure all the witches and wizards finally sleep comfortably in their beds now. Glory be to me.”
“Yeah, we’ve made it and it’s fucking fun fretting over Virgo and trying to protect the people from Terran,” Azure said, draining the rest of the mug. A loud burp rocketed out of her mouth.
Several patrons turned and stared at the pair in the corner, their faces going slack.
Monet’s eyes widened with shock. “Merlin’s beard! You’re so fucking embarrassing.”
“It’s true,” Azure said, stealing the b
ag of Cheetos from Monet and popping one of them into her mouth. She mechanically chewed, not really tasting the so-called food.
Monet lifted the pitcher and refilled Azure’s mug. He regarded her with a sideways stare before settling back into the booth with a petulant expression on his face.
“What?” Azure finally asked, eying her fingertips, which were covered in orange dust.
He crossed his arms and swung his shoulders in the opposite direction. “Nothing,” he sing-songed, trying to make his voice sound affected.
“Monet Whatever-your-middle-name-is Torrance, what has your panties in a wad?”
He stared at the far wall as he shook his head adamantly. “It’s nothing.” There were mock tears in his voice.
“Come now, tell the queen what has you suddenly upset.”
Monet swung around, his face bright. “Well, since you won’t let it go… I, Monet Bailey Torrance the Second, want to know why I haven’t been offered residence in the House of Enchanted. The gnome and the Light Elf get rooms in the East Wing, but I have to tend to my own fire every night in my tiny and gross cottage like a commoner. And do you want to know who cleans my clothes?”
Azure blinked at him; the alcohol had made her head lighten. “I’m going to guess that it’s you…” Her voice was unsure.
“No, fuck that. I’m not a peasant. I pay that crazy witch Rikki to do it. However, why should I have to do that when the House of Enchanted could be taking care of all these things for me? I’m Chief-of-Staff.” Monet pressed his hand to his chest proudly.
“You want to live at the House of Enchanted?” Azure asked.
“Technically I want to rule from the House of Enchanted, but I can’t do that until I poison you,” Monet said, waving at her dismissively. “You don’t need to overwhelm your blue head with those details. But yes, for now I want all the perks that go with living in that well-oiled machine of a house.”
It was true that Monet, in his short time as Chief-of-Staff, had made changes that were already streamlining processes. He had a mind for the job, as Azure had instinctively known. Most thought he was a drunk jerk but that was a part of the ruse. Secretly the wizard strategically processed and catalogued everything he witnessed, which was one reason he had the holistic mind for potion making. Having him around the House of Enchanted full-time could be beneficial, Azure considered.