Fierce Creatures (Away From Whipplethorn Book Two)

by A W Hartoin

  Rachel blushed right to the tip of her nose. “I’m sorry, Mr. Van Winkle. I didn’t know you knew them.”

  “Don’t worry yourself.” Mr. Van Winkle smiled broadly and Rachel looked a little faint. He was rather handsome in a brainy way and much younger than I expected for someone named Thaddeus Van Winkle. He smiled and chatted with Earl and Stanley while we went through a huge set of ornate doors. The workmen were taller than Mr. Van Winkle, and he had to look up at them both. He was slighter, too, with the well-cut suit showing how narrow he was.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “To the galen. You look like you are in need of their help,” said Mr. Van Winkle.

  “I was attacked by a horen, but I need the galen for someone else.”

  “A horen, and you lived to tell the tale. Very impressive. You must be quite strong.”

  “She’s a kindler,” said Gerald. “The only one in the world.”

  “We don’t know that,” I said. “And it doesn’t matter anyway. How far is it? We’re kind of in a hurry.”

  “Not far. It’s a shame you don’t have more time. There are five families in my desk that would love to meet you.”

  Iris clapped her hands. “You really can see us, all of us.”

  Mr. Van Winkle grinned. “You didn’t think Tess and Judd were the only ones, did you?”

  “You know about them?” gasped Gerald.

  “Word gets around. We are a small community, but we are a community. When someone joins us, we all find out about it.”

  “Bentha, you said something about a network before,” I said. “Is this what you were talking about?”

  Bentha bowed deeply. “It is indeed. There’s a network of seers.”

  “And I’m one,” said Mr. Van Winkle. “We seers like to keep in touch. It’s good to talk to others that can see fairies. It reminds us that we’re not crazy.”

  “So we’re part of the network,” said Stanley.

  “That’s wicked cool,” said Earl. “Do you know the president?”

  “He’s not a seer as far as I know.”

  “Darn. He seems cool like that.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you. There are seers all over the world and in every culture. Some of us are quite illustrious.”

  We went through a paneled set of double doors into a gallery that could’ve fit five human houses in it. There were enormous sculptures arranged in the center with humans milling around them, craning their necks to see the tops. The walls had paintings the size of an entire wall in Tess and Judd’s house. Iris took my hand, her mouth in an “O” of wonder.

  “If you like the museum, you should come for an extended visit. I’m sure I can arrange something with one of the five families. They love guests,” said Mr. Van Winkle.

  “Oh yes, please,” said Iris.

  “What’s their surname?” I asked.

  “Van Winkle, of course. That desk has been in my family for four generations.”

  “Can your whole family see?”

  “No, unfortunately. I’m the only one. I tried for years to get my sisters to see, but they have a stunning lack of imagination. They’d rather see shoes and handbags.”

  Bentha ran out onto the tip of Stanley’s finger and posed like a human swordsman in a battle painting we were passing. “When did you first see? I assume you were young,” he asked with a glance up at the dull expressions of Earl and Stanley.

  Mr. Van Winkle smiled. “I was six.”

  “We ain’t kids,” said Earl. “How come we can see?”

  “You two are a special case. Adults rarely see, but they can under certain circumstances, like the elderly ladies, Sarah and Marie.”

  “You know about them, too,” said Gerald.

  “As I said, word gets around the fairy world.”

  Mr. Van Winkle brought us into another gallery this time filled with nudes. At this point, Gerald, Earl, and Stanley completely lost track of the conversation. So did I, but for a different reason. If Eunice found out that Gerald got to look at a bunch of naked women, I’d be treating her for a massive stroke.

  “Don’t look,” said Iris.

  “Are you kidding? I’m looking.” Gerald stared up, unblinking and enraptured.

  “Stop being so weird.”

  “It’s not weird. It’s...research.”

  “Research? Into what?” Iris dropped my hand and crossed her arms.

  “Classical painting and sculpture.”

  I snorted and Gerald reddened, but that didn’t stop him from drooling over a Greek statue of a nude woman lying on a couch.

  “Pay attention to the conversation, Gerald,” said Iris.

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Would you mind telling me the whole story of how you came to be here? I’d like to hear it,” said Mr. Van Winkle.

  I told him the whole tale, starting with Miss Penrose lying in the grass, fighting to breathe, and finishing with arriving at the museum.

  “Adventure is your middle name,” he said when I was done.

  “The commander says it’s disaster,” I said with a smile.

  “Also accurate.”

  Mr. Van Winkle turned a corner and we went under an arch labeled, “Healing Through The Ages.” Writing covered the walls to start, but we walked by so fast all I could catch were the words, medieval and medicine. We swiftly passed paintings of horrible scenes with people bleeding into cups and getting their eyes poked with metal instruments.

  Iris grabbed my hand again. “I liked the other rooms better.”

  “Even the naked room?” asked Gerald with a smirk.

  Iris ignored him and buried her head into Lrag’s arm as we passed a painting of a patient being treated with a red-hot poker. Then we turned into renaissance medicine and the displays were of advances in anatomy and surgery. From there we entered a large gallery. One side had Advances in Dentistry complete with equipment that could’ve been used for torture. I wasn’t sure it wasn’t. The other side had a life-size, that is to say human size, 18th century pharmacy behind glass panels. The pharmacy had floor-to-ceiling oak cabinets with glass doors containing hundreds of cubbyholes.

  Iris peeked and relaxed her shoulders. “This is better. What’s a pharmacy?”

  Gerald rolled his eyes. “A place where humans go to get medicine, of course.”

  “Why don’t they just go to their healers?”

  “Humans have doctors, Iris.”

  I could see Gerald nearly called Iris stupid like he used to. I raised an eyebrow at him and he straightened up, assuming a less obnoxious tone. Not an easy thing for someone who’s naturally obnoxious.

  “Fine,” said Iris. “Why don’t they go to their doctors?”

  “They can’t carry everything around with them.”

  “Why not? Grandma Vi did.”

  Mr. Van Winkle led us by some humans that tried not to stare at Earl and Stanley and failed. We ended up at a side panel next to the first cabinet. There was a door in the glass and a metal lock on it. Mr. Van Winkle inserted a key in the lock and turned it with a screech.

  “The galen will know you’re in their presence instantly and they’ll come to you. If you don’t mind, Stanley, I’ll take them in.” Mr. Van Winkle held out his hand and Lrag walked on. Bentha sheathed his sword and took a flying leap onto Mr. Van Winkle’s sleeve.

  “How long’ll this take?” asked Earl. “We got stuff to do.”

  “I have no idea, but I think you’ve done enough for today. Just wait here for a moment.”

  Earl and Stanley shrugged. They leaned on a wall with a fire extinguisher on it and immediately started fighting about how to operate it. Earl held that it had to be shaken up real good to work and Stanley said it only needed a drop on the floor to get it going. Mr. Van Winkle suppressed a smile and went through the glass door.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  I CLOSED MY eyes for a moment and breathed in the aromas of a hundred cultures in one go. Below the obvious scents of cinnamon, myrrh
, and eucalyptus were hints of tamanu oil and tea tree. How Grandma Vi would’ve loved it. I swallowed a small lump in my throat at the thought of her and opened my eyes to see Lrag with his head thrown back, smiling and breathing deep.

  Mr. Van Winkle turned his back to the humans outside the glass and made like he was rearranging jars on the polished stone countertop. He laid his hand down next to a jar labeled “Leeches”. Lrag blew out a breath and stepped off Mr. Van Winkle’s smooth hand. Bentha took a running hop off his sleeve and slid across the counter until he bumped into a jar with “M. Mercurial” painted in gold on the side. Gerald and Iris buzzed around, weaving through jars and equipment. They tossed the earring back and forth. Its weight hardly seemed to bother them anymore.

  Mr. Van Winkle glanced back at Earl and Stanley who were toe-to-toe and yelling. The other humans edged away from them and looked on with distaste.

  “Matilda,” said Mr. Van Winkle, “how have those two treated you, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “They’re kinder than they look,” I said.

  “I’m glad to hear it. Now I’ll leave you to it. The galen will send for me when you’re ready to go and we’ll get you home.”

  “If you don’t mind, you can call Marie. I’m sure she’ll come for us.”

  “Not at all. While we wait, it’ll be a chance to get to know you all better. I’ve never met a kindler or a teufel before.”

  Lrag nodded. “I’m not a troll. Remember that, if you please.”

  “You’re clearly not a troll. I would not make that mistake.” Mr. Van Winkle’s face held no hint that he knew the truth, and Lrag breathed easier.

  Bentha ran and slid to the edge, needles quivering. “And the ponderosa? Am I your first?”

  “Not quite. There’s a large colony living on the third floor in the ancient weaponry exhibit.”

  Bentha smoothed his needles and cocked an eyebrow at Mr. Van Winkle. “Are they much like me?”

  “I imagine there’s no ponderosa quite like you.”

  “That is correct.” He unsheathed his sword. “Where are the galen you speak of?”

  “I’m sure they’ll emerge shortly.” Mr. Van Winkle left through the glass door and broke up Earl and Stanley, who had each other by the throat. He patted them both on the shoulder and gave them each a couple of twenty-dollar bills. Earl and Stanley grinned, saluted me, and ambled off. Mr. Van Winkle gave me a wink and we turned back to the jars. Gerald and Iris landed breathless and frowning.

  “We can’t find them anywhere,” said Gerald.

  “You don’t suppose it’s a trick, do you?” asked Iris, frowning deeper. She hated practical jokes; being so sweet and trusting, she fell for everything.

  “No,” said Lrag, his voice rumbling pleasantly in his chest. “They’re here.”

  “Yes, we are,” said a galen stepping out from behind a brass mold that might’ve been used for making giant human pills. His toga was a buttery yellow and tied with a wide black cloth around the waist. His hair was short, almost shaved, but it moved in waves from back to front. “You have need of us.”

  It wasn’t a question, but I answered it anyway. “Yes. My teacher, Miss Penrose Whipplethorn, is very sick.”

  “Too bad you’ve lost Viola.”

  “Who’s Viola?” asked Iris.

  “Viola Whipplethorn was the healer of the Whipplethorn fairies, wasn’t she?”

  “Yes. Grandma Vi,” I swallowed hard, “died last year. I’m her granddaughter, Matilda.”

  His face fell. “I didn’t realize you were her granddaughter. I’m so sorry. Yves, inform Jacqueline that we have guests.”

  A young galen about the age of Gerald appeared from behind the brass mold. He wore a short toga and his longer hair barely moved at all. “Yes, Father.”

  Yves ran across the counter and disappeared between velvet cases containing cruel-looking saws.

  “What does Miss Penrose have? I assume you know. Viola said you were her apprentice.”

  I hated that word ‘was’. Everything always ‘was’ and never would be again. I was no longer an apprentice and I missed the moniker right along with Grandma.

  “She has congestive heart failure. I got the kaki persimmon root to treat her, but I’m told it isn’t a cure.”

  He grimaced. “You went to the spriggans? They have the only supply.”

  “I did, and I got it.”

  He smiled. “Then you are as resourceful as Viola said.”

  Iris stepped forward. “Did she say anything about me? I’m Iris.”

  “She did. Iris’s heart is her gift, she would say. Iris is happiness.”

  Iris blushed and Gerald patted her on the back.

  “You knew her well?” I asked. “How can that be? She never mentioned you.”

  “She came here to replenish her stocks and talk healing. We saw her once or twice a year.”

  “So that’s where she went,” said Iris.

  “And she visited Lucien,” said the galen.

  “Who’s Lucien?” I asked.

  “I’m Lucien.” A very old galen with waist-length grey hair strode across the counter to us. His toga trailed on the floor behind him and he held a walking stick carved with plants and flowers. He didn’t slow down until he reached Iris, and then he tossed his stick away and threw his arms around her. She was so surprised, she just stood there wide-eyed. “Darling girls. I never thought I’d see the day.” His joyful face turned solemn. “So Viola is gone. How did it happen? We heard an accident, but nothing more specific.”

  Iris started to say something, but I put up a hand to stop her. “A blue jay,” I said. “Her injuries were terrible, and she never regained consciousness.” I’d never talked about it since I’d found Grandma in the woods. Never ever said the word blue jay. I guess I thought if I didn’t talk about it she wasn’t really dead. It was just a bad dream. She was dead though, and it was okay to say it.

  Lucien put his hands on either side of my face. Slow tears ran down through a network of wrinkles on his cheeks and he kissed my forehead.

  “You’re frightening her, Lucien,” said the other galen.

  “Nonsense. These are Viola’s girls. Nothing will frighten them. Am I right?” He looked at me with eyes so pale they were nearly opaque.

  Before I could answer, Gerald said, “That’s right. We’re not afraid of anything.”

  “Viola didn’t mention a boy,” said Lucien, turning from me to eye Gerald.

  “He’s our friend, Gerald,” I said.

  “Get me my stick, boy, and we’ll talk about being afraid. Have you ever seen the inside of an albatross?”

  Gerald made a face and then got the stick. “Why would anyone see the inside of an albatross?”

  “Their stomach lining is a great diuretic, but that’s not the point.”

  “Lucien, they need to see the great healer,” said the other galen.

  “Don’t interrupt me, Hubert. I’m telling a story here.”

  “Tell them on the way. Their friend has congestive heart failure.”

  Lucien cracked Hubert on the shoulder with his stick. “Why didn’t you say so? We have to get a move on. Not a moment to waste.”

  Hubert sighed. “Yes, Lucien. After you.”

  Lucien draped his free arm over Gerald’s bony shoulders and they walked away. We followed them into a forest of tall glass jars. The first ones contained ordinary things like cotton balls and strips of flannel for bandages. Once we got past the cotton balls, Iris stopped short and Lrag bumped into her. She ran around the back of him and hid behind his hip.

  “What’s wrong, Iris?” I asked.

  She stood on her tiptoes and said in my ear, “They’ve got monsters.”

  Bentha ran past. “Monsters. I will stand between my ladies and certain death.”

  “Calm down,” said Lrag. “The monsters have already been slain.”

  Hubert took Iris by the hand and led her out. She shook slightly when she got a closer look at a jar con
taining a pile of scaled creatures with six legs and nasty pincers. Curved over their backs were tails with a long needle. The creatures were huge, the size of a mouse. I couldn’t take my eyes off those needles. They reminded me of the horen’s claws and my stomach got queasy.

  “What are they?” I asked.

  “Scorpions. Not to worry. We had them imported from the desert. None alive around here.”

  “Why would you import such a thing?”

  Bentha placed his hand against the glass and I half expected the nasty thing to move. “They would make a wondrous adversary for sparring, if you hadn’t killed them.”

  “They came dead. Scorpions are medicinal.”

  Iris screwed up her mouth like she tasted one. “You eat those?”

  “We make them into tea for headaches and convulsions. They’re especially effective for humans,” said Hubert with a smile.

  “You treat humans?” The idea had never crossed my mind. Of course there’d once been a time when I couldn’t imagine talking to a human and that wasn’t so long ago.

  “Only the ones who see.”

  We walked around the scorpion jar, keeping our distance, only to find a jar full of centipedes.

  “Don’t tell me you make tea out of those?” asked Iris, shuddering.

  “What are they good for?” I asked.

  “Also headaches and they’re good for nodules and carbuncles when applied directly to the skin,” said Hubert.

  “I have a lot to learn.”

  Bentha bowed. “As do we all. Lead on, Great Healer.”

  Hubert shook his head. “I’m not the great healer. Come this way.”

  We passed the jar, to my relief, and the passage opened up to an area filled with rows of beds covered in white linen. About half the beds were full. There were wood fairies in casts, and a couple of sleeping brown-speckled trolls; a few of the species I’d seen at the council meeting but I didn’t know their names. Half a dozen galen fairies attended the sick, giving drinks and changing bandages.

  Yves ran down the center aisle. “Father, I told Aunt Jacqueline.”

  “Very good. Why don’t you go and finish your paper on intestinal torsion?”

  Yves eyed Gerald, who was still in deep conversation with Lucien. “Can’t I stay? He’s my age, I think.”