The Clockwork Fairy Kingdom

by Leah Cutter

  “Cornelius, the machine—” Dale started, still feeling guilty that he’d changed it and would cause its destruction.

  “Yes, yes, I know, lad. It’s going to explode,” Cornelius said. “But never you fear. Look around you. Have you ever seen the halls this empty?”

  Dale looked around. Not a servant was in sight.

  “Everyone of importance has fled,” Cornelius assured Dale.

  “But the queen—” Dale remembered how magical she’d seemed, appearing to him on the road, perfect in every way, from her clockwork wings to her charming laugh.

  Cornelius shrugged. “Accidents happen.”

  ***

  Queen Adele chortled over the Maker’s sweater. The girl had thought she’d been so clever and coy, hiding her name. Adele already knew her name—Nora—she just needed the girl to give it to her, to claim it, stupidly, as humans did: “I am Nora,” instead of the more polite, “You can call me Nora.” It didn’t matter. Every knot of the sweater told who she was, all the details of her name, more than just words possibly could.

  Using her teeth, Adele tore into the bottom of the sweater. It didn’t take her long to find a thread she could yank on, quickly unraveling the Maker’s work. Each stitch pulled out easily, singing of its maker. Adele learned of the girl’s hopes to be as good as her grandmother, her fears of never measuring up, how she needed to tie things together, like her family and her friends.

  When Cornelius came back into the room, Adele ordered him to come help her. “Hold this. Here,” she said.

  “My queen, I think we should go,” Cornelius said quietly.

  “Nonsense,” Adele said. “Why should I leave when everything we’ve worked for, everything we’ve sacrificed for, is about to be achieved?”

  “But my queen, what if there’s a problem—”

  “There won’t be any problem, Cornelius,” Adele said, glaring at the fairy. “My human is quite under control. Everything will be fine.”

  “As you wish,” Cornelius said, holding onto the neck of the sweater while Adele gleefully pulled it apart, her hand rising from her waist to over her head with every tug. More knowledge of the Maker’s cleverness, of the girl’s joy and determination, flowed to Adele.

  “Cornelius, can you—” Queen Adele looked up. The jeweler was gone. Adele shook her head. He didn’t realize how powerful the Maker was, or the human Tinker. That was good. She heard the clicking of machinery from the other room. Putting the sweater down, Adele marched into the other room.

  With just a glance, Adele could tell that the machine was finished. All it needed was a spark from her for it to start. Its lines flowed beautifully, and the potential power it held was tremendous to behold. She didn’t know where the boy or Cornelius had gone. It didn’t matter.

  If only Thaddeus had been there to see this. Adele wiped a tear away as she flew up to the second level, to the large intake bin. She pulled power from deep inside herself, gathering it, watching it glowing brightly blue as she poured it out into the funnel.

  The pressure of the building power wound the mainspring. Adele flew down so she could see it turn, tightening the finely tuned wire, before the power transferred from the main works to the secondary works, changing nature as it moved through the machine, gaining momentum.

  After several minutes, Adele realized something was wrong. The power never left the secondary works. It just kept building and building.

  A movement distracted Adele. An ugly insect, blood red and ungraceful, flitted from the bottom gears toward the top. A quick look told Adele all she needed to know: dwarf work. She wanted to attack it, pull it from the machine and destroy it, but there wasn’t time.

  Someone had been in collusion with the dwarf and had sabotaged Thaddeus’ great machine. Had it been Cornelius? It couldn’t have been the boy—he’d been too much under her control.

  Cursing, Adele raced for the other room, away from the great machine, as it started to rumble.

  ***

  Kostya couldn’t believe his luck: No fairies stood guard outside the entrance to the tunnels leading to his home. He rushed inside, tottering as fast as he could along the rough paths. He knew they’d return soon. He only had a few minutes at best before they’d come after him again.

  The tunnels hadn’t changed much. The fairies hadn’t salvaged a lot from his place. Kostya breathed a sigh of deep relief as he entered his rooms, comforted by the amount of accumulated things scattered around. Nora’s room had been nicer than most, but she hadn’t been gathering for as long as he had been.

  Kostya quickly went from pile to pile, picking up a bag and stuffing it with more things: wire, tools, doll parts, broken pottery, rotting furs, and empty bottles.

  When Kostya didn’t hear any fairies behind him, he slowed his frantic pace. Where had they gone? Had they decided to leave him alone? Had something else distracted them? Kostya thought for a moment. Had the boy finished the great machine already?

  The rumbling through the earth answered Kostya’s questions. Not only had the boy finished, but his ohotnik had also done its job. The entire cliff was going to blow.

  Kostya ran for his escape hatch, not sure he would make it this time.

  ***

  Robert drove slowly up to Denise’s house. No car was parked in the driveway. An old truck sat next door—Robert assumed it was the neighbor who’d driven Nora home.

  Cautiously, Robert got out of his car. The street appeared deserted. He made his way across the gravel to the house. Still no one showed up. Brazenly, Robert knocked on the door. He knew he could always claim to be a friend of Denise’s if the girl opened the door.

  No answer.

  Robert tried the door handle. Who didn’t lock their door these days? It appeared Denise didn’t. He should leave her a note about that.

  The sour smell of medicine floated through the air. The living room looked wrong—the couch wasn’t in the right place. Robert fought the urge to straighten it out.

  A quick walk through the house assured Robert that it was, indeed, empty. He found a back office. The computer wasn’t password protected, another thing Robert tsked about. He pulled open the drawers of the massive desk in the office, striking gold. He recognized official State of California documents right away.

  Denise had already filled out the Decree of Divorce along with a restraining order. Good. Robert wouldn’t have to forge her signature. He held the paper up to the fading afternoon light. The date wouldn’t be difficult to erase and redo, and he knew a good service that would fake the notarization. He didn’t know if his friend could backdate the actual filing, but Robert was willing to pay good money to try.

  Robert grimaced as he stood up. This job had cost him so much more money than it had paid. He also had more people after him, again. The big boss wouldn’t forgive his debt, Robert knew. It was just a matter of time before it all caught up with him.

  However, Robert was a gambler at heart. Life wasn’t worth living if it wasn’t a gamble.

  Smiling, Robert walked out of the house without checking the door first.

  Of course, the driver of the red truck stood in the yard, waiting for him. “What were you doing in there?” he asked, striding forward.

  Robert heard the unspoken scumbag. The man was former military, he was certain. “Nothing! I was just getting some papers for Denise.”

  “Well, let’s see them,” the guy said. He looked tall and strong, tan from working outdoors, teeth white from too much calcium and body building.

  “They’re private,” Robert declared, trying to bluff his way out.

  The man’s eyes narrowed. “I own this property,” he said menacingly. “I’ve never seen you before. Do you want me to have you arrested for trespassing?”

  Gulping, Robert shook his head and handed the papers over.

  The man scanned them quickly. “Huh.” Without looking up, he added, “You can go.”

  “But I need to—”

  The man finally looked up. Som
ething about his face reminded Robert of the figure in the back of the car, a skull floating just under the skin. “Go. Now. Before I change my mind.” The menace was obvious and immanent.

  Robert backed away slowly. “You’ll—you’ll make sure those get filed?”

  The man grinned at him. “Oh yeah. These’ll be filed. With an appropriate date, too, if you get what I mean. Now leave. And don’t come back.”

  “Okay. Okay. I’m going. I’m going.” Robert barely held himself back from sprinting to his car.

  Quiet and order flowed over Robert as the engine started and purred. Everything in the car was in its proper place. He quickly found his way back to the highway, then continued, following it out of town and beyond. He was happy to be leaving. Maybe the bosses would find him. Maybe they wouldn’t. Maybe the next big score would be the one. His luck was bound to change, particularly since he’d not only had he screwed over the man who had tried to cheat him, he’d just helped a family as well.

  ***

  The staircase leading up out of the fairy kingdom started shaking. Nora clung to Dale, forcing her legs to work. She still felt as if an outside force controlled her, fought her for control of her body and will.

  Cornelius flew above them. “Faster!” he yelled over the roaring. “Faster!”

  Nora tried, focusing on her steps, lifting one foot after another, but she was cold, so cold. She didn’t know if she’d ever feel warm again. All her fire had burned out. “You should have left me,” she mumbled.

  Dale snorted. “Like that was ever going to happen. No, Nor, you’re stuck with me. Just like I’m stuck with you.”

  At another time, that might have made Nora smile. Or possibly hit her brother. Now, it just made her try to move faster, just for him.

  When the staircase grew darker Nora paused, slipping, nearly bringing Dale down on top of her. “Come on!” he shouted, pulling on her arm. “We’re almost there.”

  Nora didn’t want to go into the blackness before her. The cottage at the top of the stairs had no light. But she had no choice: As always, Nora followed Dale into the dark, as she had the first day.

  They both faltered in the stinking room as the ground shook again.

  “I must go back,” Cornelius said as Nora tried to regain her footing.

  “No! You’ll be killed!” Dale said.

  Nora tried to agree, but her mouth wouldn’t work right.

  “Fairies are hard to kill, lad,” Cornelius said. “Plus, someone needs to spread the rumor of Kostya and his part in the machine’s destruction.”

  “Kostya,” Nora said, shivering. “He had a bug—”

  “Aye, Miss. The ohotnik. I saw it. That’s what I’d come in to warn the queen about, when I saw you. But she wouldn’t listen. Warriors never do. I’ll miss her.” Cornelius sighed. “The queen is dead. Long live the queen.”

  Nora shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot as her brother and the fairy mourned. “Guys,” she warned as another tremor hit.

  “The fairies won’t blame you, either of you,” Cornelius promised. “And the fairies from the southern kingdom won’t be welcome here anymore,” he added grimly before he flew down the dark staircase.

  Dale looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. “Come on,” he told Nora, taking her hand and dragging her outside.

  Three steps outside the cottage, Nora was able to walk on her own. After five steps, she stopped shivering. “The spell’s lifting,” she whispered.

  “Yes,” Dale said. He shook himself and suddenly stood straighter. “Queen Adele’s dead.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it, Dale?” Nora asked softly, approaching her brother and putting her hand on his shoulder.

  Dale sniffed, suspiciously sounding as if he was holding back tears. “Yeah. I guess.”

  “Dale, she wasn’t good.”

  Dale rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes. “No. But she was beautiful. And…she seemed perfect.”

  Nora shivered, but not due to cold. Perfect had never appealed to her.

  The ground shook ominously again.

  “We should go,” Dale said, not moving.

  Nora waited with her brother, feeling the words building.

  “Do you think...I mean, is it possible for me to work on something so amazing again?” he asked in a voice that sounded foreign and small.

  Nora snorted and cuffed the back of Dale’s head, hard. “Don’t be an idiot,” she told him when he glared at her. “You’re going to make and invent things so much cooler than that old machine.”

  “Really?” Dale asked, the hope in his voice not reaching his eyes.

  “Stop being such a drama queen,” Nora said, rolling her eyes. “Of course you are. You’re the Master Tinker, right?”

  “Right,” Dale said, sounding more confident. “But you’re still demented.”

  “Better than being an idiot.” Nora said, grinning, relieved that Dale hadn’t said anything about her being a Maker. Ice still ruled her and her fire hadn’t yet come back.

  He wasn’t the only one who wondered if the magic would return.

  ***

  Despite the bright sunlight, Dale viewed the world through a sheet of gray. The queen—his queen—was dead. Dale wasn’t worried that his talent was gone. His mom had accused him of having machine oil mixed in his blood. That hadn’t changed.

  The fairy machine had been so magical. Dale’s heart still ached at the loss. Whether he would ever work on something so awesome again, though—that was the question.

  Nora set Dale straight. He gladly took her teasing. But everything wasn’t back to normal. For the first time, Nora reminded Dale of his mom, looking just as pale and fragile. Still, he walked with more assurance through the tall grass to the dirt road, certain, at least this time, that nothing watched them as they passed through the stalks swaying over their heads. They’d only taken a few steps down the road when Mr. Patterson drove up in his beat-up red truck. Dale wondered why Nora stiffened beside him.

  “There you are!” Mr. Patterson said, leaning out of the driver-side window. He stared hard at the fairy coat Nora wore. “I see you found your brother.”

  “Yes,” Nora said, still oddly reserved.

  “Let me give you a ride to the hospital,” Mr. Patterson said. When it seemed Nora might protest, he added, “I insist.”

  Nora glanced at Dale. He could tell she felt uncomfortable. She got into the truck first, placing herself between Dale and the driver.

  “The hospital called,” Mr. Patterson said conversationally. “Your mom’s out of surgery. She’s going to be fine. Seems they were able to replace the battery on her pacemaker without having to replace the pacemaker, or her heart.”

  “Good,” Dale said, looking out the window. He knew Nor blamed him for their mom’s illness. She squeezed his knee briefly. Her hand was normal temperature, but it wouldn’t stay that way. She’d never let go of her magic—any more than he’d leave clockwork.

  “Do you mind if we make a quick stop at the courthouse first?” Mr. Patterson said. “I’ll get you to the hospital before your mom wakes up. Promise.” He grabbed a sheaf of papers from behind the seat, then left them alone.

  “Nora? What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know if he’s human,” Nora said quietly. “He isn’t a fairy, and he isn’t a dwarf. He’s really strong, whatever he is.”

  “He knows about the fairies,” Dale pointed out. “He used magnets and cold iron to protect the house.”

  “I don’t trust him,” Nora said coldly.

  “Then I won’t either.” Dale suspected it would be a while before he trusted his own opinions about people for a while.

  ***

  Nora sat cross-legged in the ugly beige chair, knotting a second bracelet, smiling to herself as Dale waited on their mom hand and foot, fretting over her. In some ways, Nora realized, he treated her like a queen. She had this odd image of him treating his wife the same way, then shook her head. No, it would
be many, many years before she lost him that way. However, she would lose him, someday. She knew that without a doubt.

  For now, Nora would do everything she could to protect him. She’d untied her bracelet when they arrived at the hospital, forcing it on Dale. She didn’t know how effective it would be—or even how much he’d need it. Until the fairies, Dale had seen better than she had. He’d known about Dad, seen his true nature.

  The news had reported an earthquake north of them. Nora wondered about the placement of the epicenter. Had the explosion in the fairy kingdom triggered a real tremor, or had the fairies disguised it somehow?

  “This way,” Nora heard a jovial voice saying. “There’s my little girl!”

  Nora felt herself grow colder as she looked up. She couldn’t believe what she saw. She glanced at Dale, who nodded at her. He saw it, too.

  Their dad stood in the hospital room with a police officer behind him. His hands were behind his back; cuffed, Nora hoped. She scowled and walked forward, intending to place herself between her dad and Dale. Dale did the same, so it ended up being the pair of them between him and their mom.

  “Kids, aren’t you happy to see your dad?” the officer asked.

  Dale and Nora exchanged a look.

  “Nora, I was so worried about you after the crash! Are you all right?” Dad asked.

  The sincerity in Dad’s voice almost convinced Nora—except he wasn’t looking at her, but at Dale.

  Nora crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m sure the officers were looking for me as well. You’d told them all about me being in your car—right, officer?”

  “Officer Palace, ma’am. Actually, we didn’t even know you were in the car until a bystander informed us.”

  Nora swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. “I see.” She’d guessed as much. It still hurt to find out she’d been right.

  “We were on our way to go fetch Dale, here,” Dad explained. “I was so worried about you, son.”

  Dale pressed his lips together in a tight line and didn’t respond.

  “Y’all know I just want us to be a family again, right?,” their dad said. “Denise, you know that, don’t you darling?”