by Brian Olsen
Tannyl looks up at the narrow stretch of sky visible above the side street. “Sunset is almost upon us. Are there dangers in this city at night?”
“Nah.” Nate tries to throw his arm around Tannyl’s shoulder, but the height difference means he just kind of gets it around his upper back. “No worries, elf bro. This is a real city, not like Charlesville. It only gets better at night.”
“I thought you’d never been here,” Zane says.
“And you don’t like big cities,” I say.
He sneers at us. “Don’t team up on me. I don’t want to live in a city but I love visiting them. And I don’t need to have ever been here before to guess that London probably doesn’t shut down at eight o’clock on a Friday. Can we shut up and find the fairies?”
Tannyl holds the book out for Alisa. She puts her phone on top of it, map app open, then takes off her necklace and dangles it by its cord. The medallion hangs straight over the phone, not moving. “Hm,” she says. “I was sure it was on this street.” She zooms in on the map, then groans. “So stupid. No service. I can’t download any more detail. Anybody got an international plan?”
I don’t. Everybody else is shaking their head, except Tannyl.
“I don’t understand.” He looks at the screen. “Your device does not function here?”
“Not unless you pay extra,” Alisa says. “Jaz, you’re the frequent flier. Anything?” She looks around, then spots Jasmine a few storefronts away, looking in a window. She sighs. “Jaz?”
Jasmine looks up. “What?”
“Do you have service here?”
“Sure!” Jasmine starts to swing her pink elephant backpack around to reach in for her phone, but then stops. “Oh, no. I forgot. My parents turned off my international plan after our trip last Christmas. They said I was spending too much time sending Nate pictures.”
Nate blows her a kiss. “You were an ocean away and it was the longest Christmas break of my life.”
She clasps her hands behind her back and digs a toe into the street. “Aw.”
“Let’s look at the picture in the book,” I suggest. “Maybe we can get a clue as to what the artifact is.”
Alisa puts her necklace back on and her phone away. She takes the book from Tannyl and flips through. “Stupid pages can’t stay in the same place…” she mutters, then stops. “Here we go. Huh. I don’t know.”
We gather around. Nothing really stands out in the picture. Fairies, grass, standing stones, and some trees in the background.
“Maybe one of the stones?” Zane suggests.
“How big are they?” Nate asks. “I can’t figure out the scale.”
“The fairies Miller showed us were about a foot tall,” I say. “Tannyl, is that right?”
“Yes.” Tannyl looks up and down the street. “Which would make those stones as tall as me, and difficult to conceal. Perhaps in one of the shops?”
“The other artifacts have all been relatively small,” Alisa points out. “The necklace, the coin, the trophy. Maybe it’s something a fairy is wearing or holding? Although it’d have to be awfully tiny.”
Some of the fairies are wearing little gossamer dresses, and others are wearing little gossamer shirts and breeches. One of them is drinking from a tiny bottle and another is munching on a berry. That’s it for potential artifacts in the picture.
“Maybe one of these stores has a doll house?” Nate suggests. “Should we start checking them?
Alisa pinches the cord of her necklace between her fingers, letting it dangle a little. “Truth.” Nothing. She sighs. “I guess so. What else can we do?”
Zane groans and shakes his head. “Needle in a haystack. Even if we knew exactly what we were looking for, we’d never—”
“I found it!” Jasmine is looking in the window of another store, three doors down. “Guys, I found it!”
We rush over to join her. The sign hanging above Jasmine’s head displays the bookstore’s name, “Magic Words.” She points to a small framed painting on a display stand behind the glass window. The painting is identical to the image in the book, except in full color and a little smaller. A placard below the stand gives the title as Common or Garden Fairies, and the artist as Genevieve Wollard.
“The whole picture,” I say. “The whole picture is the artifact.”
“Let’s be sure.” Alisa closes the book, keeping her thumb on the fairies’ page to mark it. “We need to touch it to the book, see if our image turns color.”
We file into the shop. The space is small and mostly filled with bookshelves, so it’s a tight fit. There are no other customers, and nobody behind the counter near the door, but a curtain in the back leads to another room.
There’s only enough space for me and Alisa by the display, so everybody else crowds in behind us. The painting is right by the window, with taller books stacked behind it, blocking it from our reach.
“Should I grab it?” Alisa asks. “I don’t want to knock all those books over.”
“Oh, hello!” An elderly woman steps through the curtain at the back of the shop. She’s wearing a powder-blue cardigan, and glasses hang from her neck on a delicate sliver chain. She’s got white hair tied up neatly in a bun, and a kindly, heavily-lined face. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. Let me know if I can help you find anything.”
We scatter away from the window display, a little too quickly and obviously, but the woman doesn’t seem to notice. I scan a few of the books on the crowded shelves. They’re all about magic or the occult.
“I love your bookshop!” Jasmine says.
“Oh, thank you,” the woman responds. “You’re American? Welcome! Are you here on a school trip?”
“Yes,” I say. “Is this your store?”
“It is.” She moves behind the front counter. “It was always my dream to run a bookshop, so when I retired, I bought this place, stock and all. Felt drawn to it, like it was built just for me.” She squints at me, then puts on her glasses. She frowns for a moment as she thinks, but then the frown drops and she looks at me with a confused expression. “I’m so sorry.” Her voice is soft and distant. “Have we met before? You look very familiar.”
I feel my friends tense a little, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. This woman must have existed in the world before, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. All the logomancers on the Common King’s side or on Liefer’s side got reborn in Charlesville, close to me, because of the way the spell was cast. If she’s halfway across the world, she’s probably an ordinary person, or, at most, a logomancer who wasn’t involved in the fighting.
Although, if seeing my face is enough to pierce the cloud of the Moment, she must have had pretty strong feelings about the Common King. Best to get to business and get out of here.
I shake my head. “I doubt it. I haven’t been here since I was a kid. We’re actually interested in that painting in the window. With the fairies.”
“Really?” She lights up, wiping away her cloudy expression. “Do you like it?”
“We love it!” Jasmine says.
“Oh, I’m so pleased.” She maneuvers her way through us to the display, moves some of the books aside, and lifts the painting off its stand. She holds it up for us to examine. “I painted it, you see.”
“Wow,” Nate says. “It’s great.”
“You’ll have me blushing.”
Tannyl says, “You are Genevieve Wollard, then?”
“I am.” She chuckles. “But if you say you’ve heard of me, I’ll know you’re having me on.” She grabs the little stand from the window, moves back behind the counter, and sets up the painting on it. “I felt a little silly putting my first painting in the window, but my friends told me it was good and it fits the theme of the shop. And I suppose I am rather proud of it.”
“First painting?” I ask.
She nods. “I painted it last year, soon after I bought the shop. The idea came to me all at once.” She sighs. “I haven’t painted anything nearly as g
ood since.”
Alisa makes as if she’s going to put our book, Creatures of Myth and Legends, down on the counter, but she bumps the painting with it. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
The artist steadies her art. “No harm done.”
Alisa holds the book below the counter. She opens it to where her thumb was marking, revealing a burst of color. The whole fairy scene is filled in.
We need that painting.
Alisa closes the book. “How much is it?”
“You want to buy it?” The bookseller’s eyes widen. She touches the top of the painting. “Now I don’t know about that. It was never intended for sale. Nobody’s ever shown interest before.” Her face gets that far-away look again, though she’s looking at the back of the painting now instead of at me. “It’s so strange. I feel as if I must protect it. Isn’t that silly? But I’ve been having the queerest dreams about this painting lately. As if the fairies are talking to me…”
Jasmine shatters the quiet moment by slapping a credit card down on the counter. A black credit card.
“Sorry, Ms. Wollard,” she says with a smile. “How much did you say?”
The older woman blinks, startled out of her reverie. “It’s Mrs. Wollard, dear. And as I said, I’m not sure I want to sell it.”
Jasmine clasps her hands together. “Oh, but I really, really want it! It’s so beautiful! My parents are art dealers and they love fairies so this will be the perfect souvenir of my trip for them!”
Mrs. Wollard tilts her head. “Art dealers, did you say?”
“That’s right. They have a gallery in Soho. New York’s Soho, I mean. Not London’s.” Jasmine taps the credit card absently on the counter. “You know, they have a show coming up that’s all about fantastic creatures. I wonder if this would…” She shrugs and puts the card back in her purse. “But if it’s not for sale, it’s not for sale.”
“Perhaps I’m being too precious about it,” Mrs. Wollard says quickly. “This is a shop, after all! But the painting is one of a kind, so…is two hundred pounds too dear?”
Jasmine takes her card back out. “Two hundred pounds is a bargain, Mrs. Wollard.”
The old bookseller takes the card. “Marvelous! Shall I wrap it for you?”
I step up to the counter. “No, thanks. A bag will be fine. We want to look at it some more. Really take the painting in.”
“Yeah.” Jasmine nudges me. “And vice versa.”
Mrs. Wollard sticks Jasmine’s card into a reader. “What was that?”
“Nothing!” Jasmine smiles at her. “Just excited about art.”
“Er. Yes.”
Alisa, Tannyl and Zane go outside to wait while Jasmine completes her purchase. Mrs. Wollard puts the miniature painting in a bag for us and we head for the door.
“I’ve put my card in,” Mrs. Wollard says. “Do let me know what your parents think of it, won’t you?”
“I will!”
Jasmine and Nate step out but I pause in the open doorway when Mrs. Wollard calls, “Excuse me? Young man?”
I turn back.
“Are you quite sure you haven’t visited my shop before? I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve seen you somewhere. You’re not a pop star or something like that, are you?”
“Nope. I’m nobody at all.” I give her my best smile. “You might even call me common.”
She stiffens. “I beg your pardon?”
Shit. Why the hell did I say that? “Thanks again.”
She starts to step out from behind the counter. “Wait, please. What did you say? Could you say that again?”
“Sorry. My friends are waiting.”
I step out and let the door close. Mrs. Wollard stands behind the glass, watching, but doesn’t come out.
Zane looks from her to me. “Everything okay?”
I smile and squeeze his shoulder. “Thanks to Jasmine it is! Come on, let’s move down the street before Grandma Moses decides she wants her painting back.”
We move on. The sun set while we were in the store, so we stand under the central lamppost, which is just flickering on.
“Jaz, that was amazing,” Alisa says.
“Yeah.” Zane shakes his head. “Solving problems by throwing money at them. Go team.”
Nate rolls his eyes. “Ignore him, babe. Won’t your parents be mad when they get the bill for your card, though? How are you going to explain spending whatever two hundred pounds is in dollars on a painting?”
She sighs. “I’m more worried about how I’m going to explain how I managed to buy something in London when I’m supposed to be at yearbook right now.” She throws her shoulders back and smiles. “But I won’t have to deal with that for a few weeks and right now we have the fairy painting so yay us!”
“We should take it home,” Alisa says. “We can’t go inside it here. That’s pushing our luck a little too far.”
“Yeah.” I shake my shoulders out. Mrs. Wollard made me tense, gotta let it go. “I’ll take us somewhere safe, somewhere Jasmine can watch over it while the rest of us go in.”
Nate puts his hand on my shoulder. “Sounds like a plan. But you’re taking us back to London for a longer visit sometime, dude.”
I flick his septum piercing. “I’m taking us anywhere and everywhere we want to go, dude. Everybody grab on.”
They all put a hand on me. Zane grabs my waist. I think about the prop storage room. It’s probably empty right now so should be a good safe place to teleport to.
Alisa checks up and down the street. “Nobody’s looking. Go for it.”
“Sun.”
Nothing.
“Sun.”
Still nothing.
Zane squeezes my middle. “Are you doing that thing again, waiting until nobody can see us arrive?”
“No.”
I want us to travel to the prop storage room at school. All six of us should disappear from here and appear there, safely and intact. I want it to happen now.
“Sun!”
A man comes out of a shop nearby and gives the six teenagers standing around holding one another a funny look.
“What’s wrong, Chris?” Alisa asks.
“It’s not working.”
There’s nothing. I’m still connected to the Logos. It’s there, in the back of my mind, like always. But I’m getting used to recognizing when it’s responding to my will, and when it’s not. And when I try to teleport us, it’s not.
“I can’t get us home.”
Nineteen
“Sorry again, everyone.” I finish the last of my take-out curry and throw the plastic container it came in into the hotel room’s wastepaper basket. “I feel so dumb.”
Nate leans back on the bed, his arms folded behind his head. “Don’t worry about it, dude. I’m not complaining about being stuck in London for the night.”
I think I figured out the reason I can’t teleport home, though it took me a couple more tries to put it together. By the time we were ready to leave, it was night in London. I based the spell that brought us here on the idea that the sun travels around the world. For it to work, I need the sun to be shining, both in the place I’m coming from and in the place I’m going to. I could be wrong, but I’ll try it in the morning and we’ll know for sure.
I hope I don’t need to climb another step towards the floating room to get us home.
“Thanks for getting us rooms, Jaz,” Alisa calls out. “And dinner.” There’s no response. “Jaz? You all right? You’ve been in there a while.”
A flush comes from the bathroom. “Sorry!” The sink runs, then a moment later the door opens and Jasmine steps out. “And you’re welcome. I’m already going to be in trouble. What’s a few extra charges on the card? If anybody wants to call home on the room phones, go ahead.”
“Not me.” Zane laughs. “I’d rather get in trouble for staying out all night than explain why I’m calling from an English phone number.”
“Same.” I hate the thought of my father worrying about me, but there are t
imes when it’s better to apologize than explain.
Alisa wipes her hands on a napkin and takes the fairy painting out of its bag. She puts it on top of the book, then puts the book on the bed. “Are we doing this?”
I get up. “Might as well. Who’s staying behind?”
Jasmine bites her thumb. “I want to see the fairies but I think maybe I’ll stay behind? Is that okay? I’m sorry.”
Nate kisses her cheek. “Of course it is, babe. You’ll get to see a fairy, don’t worry.”
She plops back down on the other bed and bounces up and down, staring at the book. “It’s like I’m standing on a bridge getting ready to bungee jump. I want to go but I just can’t do it.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, Jaz,” I say. “We’ll be doing this again, with lots of different magical creatures. You’ll have plenty of chances.”
She smiles. “Okay. Thanks.”
The rest of us line up, looking down at the painting and the book. We join hands.
“Book,” I say. “Send the five of us through the painting to the fairies. Now.”
The scene of the frolicking fairies grows larger until it fills my vision. The world shifts and the five of us are in a meadow just like the one in the painting. A large stone circle stands nearby, and thick woods surround us. Like in the elves’ world, everything feels dull, muted and heavy. Fake.
Nate lifts his foot to take a step towards the stone circle, but Tannyl pulls him back. “Do not move!”
Nate steps back. “What?”
The elf crouches. “Look where you would have stepped.”
A fairy lies unmoving on the ground, mostly concealed by the tall grass. He looks a lot like an elf, with the same pointed ears, but he’s only about ten inches high and he’s got translucent wings. The wings are so shriveled I doubt he could use them to fly. I crouch to look closer and see that he’s glowing, but the yellow light he’s giving off is so pale as to be barely visible.
He groans and opens his eyes. He sees us and gasps. “Humans!” he chokes out. “Elf! Are you here to save us, or finish us off?”
“We mean you no harm, fairy,” Tannyl says. “And we will help you if we can. I am Tannyl, of the Sagemoss tribe. May I lift you?”