Fairy Lies

by E. D. Baker

  Curtis chuckled. “He probably thought we were going to eat you.”

  “Most people are afraid of us,” Doreen explained to Jak. “Although you don’t seem to be.”

  “What can I say?” said Jak. “You’re part big cat and I’m part cat goblin. I almost feel as if we’re related.”

  “So do I!” Doreen said.

  “I am worried about Tobi, though,” said Jak. “Will he remember things once he leaves the Land of Forgetfulness?”

  “After a while,” Curtis told him. “A few creatures have wandered out of the Land in our direction. Some sphinxes would take advantage of their memory lapses and eat them, but Doreen and I try to help them when we can. It takes some a couple of hours, others nearly an entire day before they remember much of anything. Everyone is different.”

  Jak nodded. “I’d like to get Tobi out as soon as I can, but I don’t have much time. Is there any way to walk through the Land of Forgetfulness without losing your memory?”

  “Not as far as I know,” said Curtis.

  “I’ve heard that you’ll be all right if you write yourself notes, reminding yourself why you’re there,” Jak told him.

  Curtis chuckled. “That may be true, but then you’d have to be able to write, wouldn’t you? I’ve never mastered that feat,” he said, flexing one of his front paws.

  “If you don’t mind my asking, why are you going to Oberon’s court?” asked Doreen.

  “Someone I care about very much was kidnapped and taken there,” said Jak. “I have to get her out before something bad happens to her.”

  Curtis winked at his mate. “Ah, his lady love!”

  “Yes, she is, but she’s a lot more than that,” said Jak. “She’s Titania’s daughter, and if I don’t get her back to the fairy queen, there’s likely to be a war.”

  “Oh, dear!” said Doreen. “This sounds so complicated!”

  “Speaking of complicated, do you think we should take the upper pass or Snake Valley?” Curtis asked Doreen.

  “The upper pass is shorter,” she replied.

  “Then the upper pass it is!” said Curtis. “We’ll just have to hope that Sinovia has gone to lunch.”

  “Who’s Sinovia?”

  “Another sphinx, but she’s nothing like us,” said Doreen. “She has wings.”

  The two sphinxes had been right when they told Jak that he would have gotten lost without their help. Soon after they started across the desert floor, the land dipped and they entered a series of twisting, turning chasms. They had walked for more than an hour when they came upon the end of a stone bridge that arced into the sky above the maze of canyons. The bridge was about four feet wide, so they walked single file up the middle with Curtis in the lead and Doreen bringing up the rear.

  They had nearly reached the center of the bridge when Curtis exclaimed, “Drat, she’s here. Ah, well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. Hello, Sinovia,” he called in a louder voice. “How are you today?”

  Peering around Curtis’s back, Jak gulped and took a deep breath. This sphinx was indeed very different from Curtis and Doreen. It was true that she had eagle wings, but she also had the head and chest of a human woman, and apparently she didn’t like wearing clothes. Jak tried to keep his gaze on her face.

  “Hello, Curtis, Doreen,” said Sinovia. “Who’s that you have with you?”

  “A friend of ours,” said Curtis.

  “Psst!” Doreen hissed from behind Jak. “Just keep moving. Whatever you do, don’t let her trap you into trying to answer her riddles. She makes up impossible questions that only she can answer and then eats anyone who can’t answer them. Hurry up; stay close to Curtis and you should be fine.”

  Jak nodded and darted forward until he was so close that Curtis’s swishing tail slapped him on the legs. Curtis headed for the side of the bridge next to where Sinovia was standing, her feet firmly planted in the middle.

  “Boy!” Sinovia said to Jak as he followed Curtis past her. “Tell me—how is a griffin like a turnip?”

  “Keep going,” muttered Doreen in Jak’s ear.

  Jak shuffled past Sinovia with his two friends so close that he was almost stepping on Curtis’s heels and Doreen’s feet were brushing against his.

  “Here’s an easy one,” said Sinovia. “What hears everything, sees nothing, and is usually covered with hair?”

  “Don’t answer,” Doreen told him in a fierce whisper.

  A moment later they were past the winged sphinx and starting down the other side of the bridge.

  “Wait! He’s supposed to answer my riddle!” cried Sinovia.

  “Not today,” said Curtis. “We’re in a hurry.”

  “But he’s not supposed to pass by unless he gives the right answer. That’s one of the rules!”

  “They’re your rules, Sinovia,” called Doreen. “You made them up. Nobody has to follow them if they don’t want to.”

  “But this is my bridge!” Sinovia shouted, stamping her foot.

  “Only because you say it is,” replied Doreen. “Have a nice afternoon. Give our regards to your mother.”

  “You can’t do this!” the winged sphinx shrieked, launching herself at Jak.

  Curtis and Doreen turned so they both stood in front of Jak. Growls rumbled in their throats, and when Sinovia got too close, Curtis swiped at her with claws extended. She backed off, her tail between her legs, and began to slink away.

  Jak and his friends continued down the bridge, but they hadn’t gone far when Sinovia called after them, “You won’t get away with this! My mother will hear what you did. What’s your name, boy?”

  “Don’t give her your real name,” whispered Doreen. “You should never give your real name to creatures you can’t trust.”

  “It’s Nihlo!” Jak shouted. Nihlo was his nasty older cousin who had mistreated Jak since the day they met. The last time they’d seen each other, Nihlo had tried to kill him. If anyone deserved the wrath of a sphinx, it was Nihlo.

  Jak and his two new friends stood together, watching as the winged sphinx spiraled in the air above them, calling them rude words, before flying off to the south.

  “Who’s her mother?” Jak asked a few minutes later as they reached the end of the bridge.

  “A neighbor of my great-aunt Daphine,” said Doreen. “Sinovia’s mother is just like Sinovia, only she wouldn’t have given in just then. She guards the Treeburnt Pass. Nobody goes there unless they absolutely have to.”

  Only a short distance past the bridge, the canyon opened out into a plain laced with freshwater springs and burbling streams. When Jak shaded his eyes with his hand, he could see a vast forest on the far side of the plain.

  “Oberon’s court lives in that forest,” said Curtis.

  “Then I’m almost there,” said Jak. He started forward, but when the sphinxes didn’t move to join him, he stopped and looked back. “Aren’t you coming?”

  Curtis shook his head. “This is as far as we go. We never enter the Land of Forgetfulness. That’s part of it right there,” he said, indicating the plain.

  “If you go straight through, you’ll be in it for only a few miles,” said Doreen.

  “I don’t understand,” said Jak. “I’ve seen a map of this area. It showed Sphinx Alley extending all the way to the forest.”

  “It used to,” said Curtis, “but the Land of Forgetfulness has a way of shifting, almost as if it forgets where it’s supposed to be.”

  “Is there any way around it?”

  “Not unless you want to go through the Troll Woods, and we don’t recommend that to anyone,” said Doreen. “Now, before you go, there are a few things we think you should know. Be careful when you’re around Oberon. The fairy king’s magic is slyer than most. He likes to control people, and he does it by changing the way they see the world. If your lady love is there, he’s probably used his magic on her. There is a way to undo it, however.”

  “That’s right,” Curtis said. “Just sprinkle pink fairy dust on her and sa
y,

  Undo the spell

  That someone used

  To change her worldly view.

  Allow her now

  To clear her sight

  And see that which is true.

  It’s simple, but it works. She should regain all her memories and be her usual self.”

  “Where can I get this pink fairy dust?” asked Jak.

  “You’ll find it when you get there,” said Curtis. “The pink dust has a lot of uses. It does whatever the user wants it to, from soothing a baby’s bottom to making a spell work for someone who has no skill with magic.”

  Doreen gently cuffed Jak with her paw and kissed him on the cheek. “Good luck, dear boy. Thank you for helping my Curtis. We try to help others, but no one has ever come to our aid before. We’re in your debt.”

  “Could you do me a favor then?” asked Jak. “Could you watch out for Tobi and help him if he comes this way?”

  “Certainly!” said Doreen. “We’ll do whatever we can.”

  “Farewell, young cat goblin,” Curtis added, his voice sounding hoarser than usual. “May your friends be strong and your enemies lame.”

  “Thank you for everything,” Jak told them both. “You’ve been a big help.”

  He was walking away, wondering how he could write a reminder, when he heard them talking behind him. “You talked to him more than I’ve ever heard you talk to a stranger before, Doreen,” said Curtis.

  “He’s like the son we never had,” Doreen said with a catch in her voice. “I don’t want him to get hurt.”

  “We have fourteen cubs!” said Curtis. “Nine of them are boys. You said yourself that he reminds you of Tomi.”

  “Yes, but not even Tomi is quite like him.”

  “You mean a cat goblin?” Curtis asked.

  “Precisely!” said Doreen.

  Jak smiled. He would never forget all they had done to help him. Which reminded him . . . He reached into his pocket for the pencil and scrap of parchment that Tobi had found. The pencil was broken and the parchment was a sodden mess that fell apart in his hands, ruined when he’d crossed the river. Spoiled in the human world, Jak decided that a marker would work better than a broken pencil and took a moment to transmogrify it. The message would have to be short and not easily confused. On the back of one hand he wrote HEAD FOR THE FOREST. On the back of the other he wrote GET TAMISIN. Jak hesitated for a moment, trying to decide how to tell himself to hurry. Finally, he simply wrote RUN!

  Satisfied that he could find Oberon’s court once he reached any point in the forest, Jak put the marker away and took his first step into the Land of Forgetfulness.

  Chapter 13

  Perched on one of the jumbled boulders just above the waves, Tamisin watched the setting sun turn the sky into such glorious shades of peach and pink and red that it didn’t seem real. Although it was late and she knew she should be heading back, she wanted to be alone now to think. Irinia had warned her to be careful, and Dasras had told her that the fairies weren’t to be trusted, but what she hadn’t known was how much the fairies wanted to get rid of her.

  Someone had to be behind all this, but who? One fairy? A group of fairies? She remembered reading a murder mystery where a whole trainload of people had tried to kill a single passenger. Was she getting unjustifiably paranoid, or were all the fairies against her? The only people who seemed to be willing to help her weren’t fairies and had their own reasons for disliking fairy-kind.

  Should she tell Oberon? If she decided to tell him, she should do it while they were alone, something that had yet to happen. Maybe she should tell Dasras. He spent a lot of time with Oberon and could relay the information to him. But what about Dasras himself? He had already told her that he was afraid that Oberon would tire of him someday and no longer treat him like a son. What if he was afraid that Tamisin might displace him in Oberon’s affections? Malcolm the cobbler had told her that fairies were really just out for themselves, and she hadn’t seen anything to disprove that. Dasras wasn’t a fairy, but because fairies had raised him, there was no saying how much they had influenced him.

  Tamisin was so confused that she didn’t know what to think, and even began to doubt her own father. What if Oberon hadn’t been completely truthful when he said he’d brought her here to get to know her? Maybe Oberon wanted her with him so Titania couldn’t have her. Malcolm had said that he’d been brought to the court as much to keep other beings from getting his shoes as he was to make shoes for the fairies. Could Oberon be that heartless that he could think of her that way, too? The idea that Tamisin didn’t know whom she could trust when she needed so desperately to trust someone had her stomach churning. Whatever the case, the best solution seemed to be to go home to the human world. Now if only she knew how to get there.

  Loud voices made Tamisin glance down the beach. It was dusk, and in the half-light she could just make out a group of ogres stomping around the curve of the cove, headed in her direction. She narrowed her eyes, trying to see better. It was an ogress and two ogres, and all three were shouting at one another. The ogress was carrying a bundle in her arms while the two men shoved each other even as they walked.

  “I wish neither of you had come here!” the woman cried. “I could have handled it myself!”

  “Right!” said the older ogre. “As if you’ve done such a good job so far! I wouldn’t have come if this lamebrain husband of yours hadn’t made such a stink about fetching you home.”

  “I couldn’t just leave her here, not after the baby was born!” the other ogre said. “Are you sure you won’t come with me, Narlayna? They can always find someone else to make their stupid clothes!”

  “She’s here because she’s my daughter!” the first ogre roared. “It will reflect badly on all of us if she leaves now. This whole thing is your fault, Bevin! No one gave you permission to have a conjugal visit last year!” With one mighty shove, the older ogre knocked the younger one off his feet and into an oncoming wave.

  Bevin got to his feet spluttering. “Keep your grubby paws off me, Darlander!” he snarled. “She’s my wife and you should never have made her come here!”

  “You didn’t marry her until after Oberon ordered her to court! You should have waited until her time of service was over.”

  “That won’t be for years! We couldn’t wait that long!”

  “Stop it, both of you!” Narlayna said, patting the bundle in her arms. “This isn’t about me or Bevin. It’s about getting the baby home before the fairies know she’s here! Do you know how many rules we broke when you came to visit me, Bevin? If they ever found out that I had a baby . . .” She glanced down at the little face peering up at her and her expression softened. “Where did you say you left your boats?” she asked the two male ogres.

  Tamisin crouched down amid the rocks, making herself as small and inconspicuous as she could while the ogre family trudged past. They went only a short distance, however, before she heard their voices again. “If Narlayna’s not going with us, we need only one boat,” said Bevin. “Listen, Sweetness, I’ll leave my boat here with you. Use it to come home if the fairies give you any trouble.”

  “Don’t be a fool,” Darlander growled. “You need that boat. If anyone is going to leave a boat for Narlayna, it should be me. I’ll ride with you and hold the baby while you steer. And Narlayna, use the boat if you need to. We owe your labor to the king, but no one mistreats my little girl.”

  “Thank you, Father. I will.”

  Once Tamisin heard the sound of wood scraping on rock and saw the shadowy figures of the male ogres carrying a boat down to the water, she climbed up the rocks and down the other side, trying to be as quiet as possible. When she got close enough, she recognized the ogres as the two she had seen fighting earlier that day. She was still watching when the ogres climbed into the boat and Narlayna handed them the baby. Tamisin felt like crying, too, when she heard the ogress weeping. If all this was going on in Narlayna’s life, it was no wonder the ogress had been upset
the day Tamisin met her.

  Tamisin had reached the forest and was heading for the flat rock where supper was served, hoping Irinia hadn’t cleared everything away yet, when she saw a cloud of tiny fairies advancing through the forest. Seeing that other full-sized fairies were hurrying out of their way, she moved to stand behind a tree.

  “What’s going on?” a fairy only a few yards away asked another. “Colonel Mountain Ash doesn’t usually patrol our woods at night.”

  “Haven’t you heard? Some ogres were spotted on our side of the hedge after curfew. I don’t like ogres, but I’d hate to be one when the colonel catches them. He’ll do his best to make an example of them so no one else tries anything.”

  Tamisin glanced back the way she had come. Narlayna’s family was leaving, but the ogress was staying behind, which meant that if anyone was going to be caught, it would be her. From all that Tamisin had heard, Narlayna had enough problems without having to face the colonel, too.

  Tamisin pretended to be as curious as the other fairies while the colonel and his troops were around, but as soon as she saw them fly off and knew that no one else was looking, she slipped back through the trees to the rocks by the cove. By the time she reached them, it was already dark. Once again she climbed over the rocks as quietly as she could, which was harder now that she couldn’t really see where she was going. Keeping a low profile, she paused at the top to listen before climbing down the other side. At first all she could hear was the rumbling thunder of the waves breaking and the more muted sound of the water shushing across the sand. But after a few minutes she heard the soft, unmistakable sound of someone weeping. Peering into the darkness, she thought she saw a dark shape on the beach just past the waterline.

  She had climbed partway down the rocks when she decided that it might not be wise to startle an ogress, so she began to make noise on purpose, pushing smaller rocks over, and muttering to herself as she looked for better footholds. The shape on the beach moved and got larger, as if the ogress had gotten to her feet.