by E. D. Baker
Herbert was half off the ground when Lamia Lou began to squeeze the griffin around the middle. Jak peered up as the griffin screamed. Seeing the griffin half lift, half drag Herbert, Jak jumped to his feet. Precious seconds ticked away as he refocused on the comb he was holding. He pictured what he wanted it to become—a sword made of steel with a razor-sharp blade. Suddenly the sword was in his hand, so heavy that he dropped it and had to bend down to pick it up. When he stood, the griffin had dragged Herbert nearly twenty feet.
“Let go!” shrieked Lamia Lou, her face growing red as she squeezed the griffin.
The griffin thrashed the air with his wings, sending up a cloud of dust that made everyone cough. Herbert squealed as he danced on the tips of his hooves across the ground, partly suspended under the beast that wasn’t quite strong enough to lift a full-grown unicorn.
Suddenly the griffin had had enough. Opening his claws, he released Herbert’s horn so that the unicorn fell to the ground with his legs sprawled under him. Without the unicorn to weigh him down, the griffin was able to fly a bit higher, though he still had an enraged lamia on his back. Twisting and turning, he tried to tear at Lamia Lou with his eagle talons and lion claws, but by now Lamia Lou had wriggled around the griffin so that her upper body was behind his head where he couldn’t snap at her with his beak. She screamed as she pulled out handfuls of feathers, flinging them into the air.
“Lou!” bellowed Herbert as he got to his feet. “Let him go!”
The griffin looked as if he wanted nothing more now than to get away from the lamia. His eyes were wild as he thrashed around. Soon his breathing became labored and his wing beats slowed, and then he was plummeting from the sky and everyone below him was trying to figure out where he might land so they could get out of his way.
“Lou!” Herbert yelled. “Jump!”
Lamia Lou slithered off the griffin’s back seconds before the unconscious beast hit the ground. “Oof! Ouch! Oh my!” she cried as she tumbled across the rocky terrain. When she finally stopped rolling, she lay still with only her chest moving as she struggled to catch her breath.
“Are you all right, my darling?” Herbert called as he galloped to her side.
“I’m fine,” she said, sitting up. “Jutht a little bruithed ith all.”
“Mmf!” came a muffled voice from where the griffin lay.
Lamia Lou turned around. “Who thaid that?”
“I think it was Tobi,” said Jak. “Tobianthicus, are you under there?” Jak ran to where the griffin lay like a dead sparrow with its beak open and its eyes glazed.
“Unh!” Tobi groaned.
Lamia Lou and Herbert both had to help Jak drag the still-breathing griffin aside before they could get to Tobi. The little raccoon goblin drew in a long, shuddering breath when he was finally uncovered. Groaning, he sat up and glared accusingly at his companions. “Fine friends you are,” he grumbled. “I could have suffocated, stopped breathing, lost all my air while you three fooled around.”
“We’re sorry, Tobi,” Jak said, although he couldn’t keep from grinning. “Next time we’ll pay more attention to where you dig your hole.” While his friends gathered around the griffin, Jak turned the sword back into a comb and shoved it into his pocket.
“What about him?” Herbert asked. He poked the griffin with his hoof and sniffed the motionless body.
Lamia Lou bent over the griffin. When she stood up again, she said, “He’ll be fine. Jutht a little bit thore.”
“If you don’t mind my asking,” said Jak, “why didn’t you bite the griffin when you had the chance?”
The lamia looked shocked. “Why would I do that? I wath trying to teach him a lethon, not poithon him!”
Herbert snorted and glanced from side to side. “Which way do we go from here? A tussle like that gets me all turned around.”
“Thith way,” Lamia Lou said, pointing. “I’m very good at directionth. Lamiath have to be or we’d get lotht in the tall grath.”
“I’m too tired, worn out, exhausted to go anywhere,” Tobi whined. “That fight took a lot out of me.”
Lamia Lou sighed. “Oh, all right. I’ll give you a ride. You might as well climb on, too, Jak. I can move a lot fathter than you, and we’ve already lotht a lot of time.”
“I’d offer to help, but my head hurts,” said Herbert.
“That’th okay, Thweetie,” Lamia Lou said, brushing his forelock out of his eyes. “You’ve been through a lot.”
“Tobi, where are you going?” Jak asked as the little raccoon goblin scurried away.
“I want a souvenir,” Tobi replied, snatching up a griffin feather and waving it in the air. “You don’t come across these every day.”
Lamia Lou motioned to the little goblin. “Hurry up if you want a ride. We’re leaving now, with or without you. Collecting thouvenirth,” she muttered, shaking her head. “The next thing you know, he’th going to want an autograph.”
Chapter 9
Once again Dasras was waiting for Tamisin when she woke. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it; she was angry at him, but despite what had happened, the little voice inside her was back, and it kept insisting that she loved him. Maybe she’d responded so negatively to his kiss because she had been more tired than she’d realized. Then again, it had occurred to her that though he’d insisted that she must love him, he’d never said that he loved her. And what did he mean when he said that she had to love him? Did he honestly think he was that irresistible? Irinia had said that he thought he had a way with girls. Could that be what she was talking about?
Tamisin was tempted to tell Dasras to go away, but at least he wanted to spend time with her. No one else seemed interested in even talking to her, except Irinia and Malcolm, and they were busy with their own tasks.
Tamisin felt lonely, which seemed a new experience. Back at home she always had her friends or family to talk to when she needed to work something out. And there used to be that other person, the one she couldn’t quite remember . . . It was a boy, she was sure of that, but not being able to picture his face or remember his name or anything about him made her feel as if she had a hole inside of her. Whoever he was, she could have talked to him about nearly anything.
A wave of homesickness washed over her. She missed her human parents, her brothers, and her friends. She missed a normal human life where she knew what to expect and—
“Tamisin!” Dasras called.
Deciding that she’d rather go with Dasras than be by herself, Tamisin slipped on her new shoes and released her wings.
“Miss me?” Dasras asked when she landed on the ground beside him. Tamisin half expected him to try to kiss her again, but instead he handed her a small bouquet of violets and began to talk about a place he wanted to show her.
That morning they visited the path lined with fairy sculptures made from living plants; her favorite was the ivy shaped into a statue of Oberon. They were on their way to lunch when they noticed a commotion on one of the paths. A group of fairies were hauling covered baskets down the path, and everyone had to step aside to let them pass. “What’s that all about?” Tamisin asked Dasras.
“I don’t know. What’s going on?” he asked one of the passing fairies.
“Some minor trouble at the perimeter,” said the warrior. “Nothing we can’t handle.”
“Is everything all right?” Tamisin asked Dasras as the warriors moved on.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” he said. “This kind of thing happens all the time.” When Tamisin looked doubtful, he smiled and took her arm. “You worry too much. After lunch, we’ll go to the lake where a trained sea monster is giving rides. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
Tamisin glanced at the fairies around them and relaxed when she saw that no else seemed concerned. Maybe this time Dasras was right. Maybe she did worry too much.
They were sitting down to eat their lunch when a fairy laughed, sounding just like Tamisin’s human mother. Tamisin turned without thinking, and couldn’t help bu
t feel disappointed when she saw the group of fairies. The sound made her feel homesick again and more than a little worried. Who knew what her human parents had gone through since the night she disappeared? They had to be frantic by now. She wanted to go home, but there was no telling when she’d have the opportunity to get to know her father again. Once she went home to the human world, she’d want to stay there for a while. There was something she needed to do there—someone she needed to see.
Frowning, she rubbed her forehead, trying to ease the headache that had started behind her eyes. Dasras must have noticed, because he studied her face for a moment, then said, “Is something wrong?”
“No. It’s just that . . . well, I can’t help feeling that something is wrong, or something important is missing.”
Dasras nodded. “It’s Titania, isn’t it? Finding out that your mother lied to you would unsettle anyone.”
“No, that’s not it,” Tamisin said. “I wasn’t thinking about her at all.”
“Why don’t we do something to get your mind off whatever is making you look so serious? Bring your apple and you can finish it on the way to the lake. That sea monster won’t be giving rides forever.”
Tamisin’s headache faded away as they walked through the forest. The sky was clear, and the gentle breeze that stirred the leaves on the trees was just enough to relieve the heat of the day. They could hear the crowd long before they reached the lake. Fairies filled the meadow that ran from the waterfront to the edge of the meandering path, jostling for a place in line or to watch the lucky fairies already riding on the sea monster’s back.
Dasras glared at the fairies in front of them, and sounded annoyed when he said, “You shouldn’t have to wait.”
“I don’t mind,” Tamisin told him. “Look, the line is moving quickly.”
It wasn’t until the fairies in front of them had shuffled closer to the water that they could see the sea monster. It was long and narrow with a head like an enormous dog and a body that went up and down in humps and troughs. A nymph was perched on the monster’s head, controlling it with two of the tendrils that trailed from the monster’s cheeks. More than a dozen fairies sat on the humps behind the nymph, holding on to other tendrils that radiated from the monster’s body.
Fairies shouted and everyone looked up. A squadron of fairy warriors was flying in formation overhead, doing loops and spirals, climbing and diving in ways that a human fighter pilot would have envied. They swung low over the sea monster, and the beast roared; all the fairies on its back clapped.
“What are they doing?” Tamisin asked.
“Practicing,” Dasras told her. “The real show is on Midsummer’s Eve, when it’s dark and all you can see are the lights the fairies’ wings make.”
When the squadron left, the line in front of Tamisin and Dasras thinned out as fairies vied to take to the air and copy the maneuvers of the fairy warriors. Soon it was Tamisin and Dasras’s turn to climb aboard the sea monster’s back. Tamisin sat directly behind the nymph and in front of Dasras. The monster was squishy, and its dark green skin was pebbly and rough. Tendrils trailed past Tamisin’s legs like smooth, wet rope. She reached down and grasped one on either side, wrapping them around her wrists for a better grip. When she looked up, she discovered that she was directly behind a large hole in the back of the monster’s head. They were just starting to move when the monster whuffed and damp, fishy-smelling air blasted Tamisin in the face. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. Maybe this wasn’t such a good seat after all.
Watching the sea monster from the shore, Tamisin hadn’t realized how much it undulated in the water, but as soon as it began to swim, water splashed over her legs and feet. They were making their first circuit around the lake when a new group of fairies took to the air. The sea monster raised its head to look at them, and Tamisin could feel it quiver beneath her. After that the monster swam faster, as if trying to get away from the fairies.
It’s afraid! Tamisin thought, and her heart went out to the poor beast. She glanced behind her, but no one else seemed to have noticed.
The sea monster had just started its second circuit when the flying fairies began their lowest approach. Then one of the fairies dropped something and it fell past Tamisin, landing in the hole in the back of the sea monster’s head.
The monster lurched to a halt, and half the fairies tumbled off its back. All Tamisin could do was hold on to the tendrils and dig her knees into the monster’s sides, but she could hear fairies shouting behind her. When the monster began thrashing from side to side, Dasras and the rest of the fairies fell off and the voices behind her stopped. Deciding that she’d be safer in the water than on the monster’s back, Tamisin tried to get off, but her feet were trapped in the tendrils. She was jerking at her legs, trying to free them, when the monster tossed its head, sending the nymph who’d been trying to control it flying.
The monster swung its head around to face Tamisin and she shrank back. It snapped at the air only a yard from where she sat, and its doleful eyes looked panic stricken. And then it dove, heading straight for the bottom of the lake. Tamisin barely had time to fill her lungs before she was underwater. She was still trying to pull her legs free when the monster changed direction and headed for the surface. Its head was thrown back so far that Tamisin could see a round, white stone filling the fluttering edges of the hole. That must be what the fairies had dropped. If only she could get the stone out . . .
Tamisin reached for the stone but was thrown back when the beast began to thrash again. One of her feet came loose and she slid sideways, still held fast on the other side. She glanced down when she felt new pressure on her leg. A nymph was there, trying to unwrap the tangled tendrils that were holding Tamisin in place. Fighting the urge to draw a breath, Tamisin clung to the sea monster’s back for one more agonizing moment until suddenly her leg was free and the nymph was tugging her to the surface. But there was something that Tamisin had to do first. Pulling away from the nymph, she shot out her hand, dug her fingers into the hole, grasped the stone, and ripped it from the opening. A gush of fishy air shoved her halfway to the surface.
Tamisin surfaced with a lung-wrenching gasp. Her hand was shaky as she pushed her streaming hair off her face. “Thank you,” she told the nymph who had dragged her up.
“I’m glad I could help,” the nymph replied. “That whisker was tied around your foot so tight, I thought I’d never get it undone. Why did you tie yourself on, anyway?”
Tamisin was confused. “I didn’t.”
The nymph gave her an odd look, then flipped her head to toss her hair over her shoulder and said, “My mistake. Thanks for helping Rudie. I don’t know why the fairies like dropping stones into his breathing vent, but that’s not the first time it’s happened.” With a wave of her hand, she dove back into the water.
“Are you all right?” Dasras called to Tamisin from the shore where he and a crowd of fairies had been watching.
“I’m fine,” Tamisin said, grateful when he reached out to give her a hand up.
When she was standing beside him, Dasras eyed her clothes. “You should go change. Your father sent word that he wants to talk to you.”
“Did you see what happened? A fairy dropped a stone in the sea monster’s breathing vent! Do you think we should tell my father?”
“What difference would it make?” asked Dasras.
“We could have drowned!”
“Fairies are always playing pranks like that. It’s what they do for fun. Your father couldn’t do anything unless he had proof and knew who dropped it. And even then he probably wouldn’t do much. Where’s the stone now?”
Tamisin shrugged. “At the bottom of the lake, I guess. I dropped it after I pulled it out.”
“Then I wouldn’t bother telling him,” Dasras said.
“But what about the monster’s tendrils or whiskers or whatever it is you call them? Someone tied me onto the monster’s back!”
Dasras frowned. “Why would anyone do that?
”
“That’s what I’d like to know!” said Tamisin.
“There’s no way to prove that either. All I can say is that you’d better hurry. Oberon doesn’t like being kept waiting.”
Tamisin would have liked nothing better than to rest and gather her thoughts, but she doubted Oberon would understand if she didn’t go to him as soon as she could. Dashing back to the tree where she slept, she changed into a dry dress, then hurried to Oberon’s glade.
A group of fairy warriors surrounded the fairy king, looking stern faced and serious. Mountain Ash was there as well, his expression grimmer than the rest. While Oberon spoke in muted tones to the colonel, Tamisin waited at the edge of the glade. She was there only a few minutes when the fairy king glanced up and saw her.
“Ah, there she is,” he said, and gestured to the fairy warriors. Although they bowed and backed away, Tamisin could feel their eyes on her as she approached the king. “I’ve been meaning to send for you, but other matters have demanded my attention. We never finished our conversation yesterday. Have you been enjoying yourself, my dear? Have you settled in?”
“Yes, thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Please, call me Father.”
Tamisin’s eyes flicked to the fairies standing beside Oberon and noticed their surprise. “Are you sure it’s all right? I mean, it’s not as respectful as Your Majesty.”
Oberon chuckled. “I would be honored if you called me Father. It’s something I’ve wanted to hear for centuries. How are you faring? Has everyone been good to you?”
“Yes, except . . . ,” she said, and hesitated, remembering what Dasras had told her.
“Go on,” he said.
A tiny messenger fairy darted into the glade and hovered by Mountain Ash. The colonel tilted his head to listen and began to frown as the fairy spoke.