Stinking Beauty

by Elizabeth A Reeves

  In every direction, a vast treasure was strewn in deep piles across the floor. Gold coins of every make and size glittered brittlely against the colorful winks of gemstones and ornate works of art the dragons had amassed together.

  Even the walls and the ceilings were strewn with valuable things. Ropes of pearls dangled from diamond chandeliers, delicate filigrees of jewels and silver lay like cast-off lace among the gaudier pieces.

  It was a trove unlike any other, but it could not keep my attention.

  For the room was full of dragons. In every direction I looked, there they were. There were Great Dragons, resting coyly on their beds of coins. Wyverns and drakes of lesser sizes were resting and flying about in the space. Even the tiny lesser dragons raced about, so swiftly that they blurred in my vision as they cavorted past me.

  I bowed deeply. It was not for any reason, but that I felt overawed by such a display. I had been blessed to meet one Ancient One in my life, and I was overwhelmed by the fortune I had to stumble unwittingly onto such a place.

  I thought perhaps you had lied, the smoky one laughed. But I see that you spoke truly. You have no yearning for treasure in your heart.

  “I beg pardon,” I cried. “I did not mean to intrude on your home. I was worried when Brunhild died that her friends would come to harm, but I see that I was foolish in my fear.”

  Kindliness is never a fool’s work. Few know of this place, and now none of them fairies. I ask; will you keep this secret?

  I nodded so violently I must have looked like a marionette jerking on the end of a string in the hands of an unskilled puppeteer. I did not need the dragons to explain to me what danger they would face if anyone knew of this place, and of the treasures they possessed. I was fortunate that Gloriana was afraid of dragonkind. I doubted she would have withheld this from my family.

  I was fortunate, my family would not think to ask me anything.

  “Thank you, for letting me see,” I said, a little breathlessly. I wanted to take in everything that surrounded me, to stare at the dragons in their displays, but every time something caught my eye, I was drawn to another cavorting, flittering form. My mind was overwhelmed with colors and lights. Had I spent a thousand years in this space, I doubted I would find the proper words to explain what I saw.

  I think we broke her, a new voice chuckled in my head.

  Oh, dear, another added. I quite like the look of her.

  “I’ll try not to break so easily,” I said quickly. “It’s just… you are all so… magnificent. I scarcely can remember how to breathe.”

  The room rumbled with their laughter at my expense, but I didn’t mind. I was elated that they had allowed me to experience even this much of their clan.

  Do you still offer us friendship? The smoky voice teased.

  “Yes,” I said with no uncertainty. “Though I might need quite a lot of bread if we are to share.”

  The dragons laughed again.

  Good. We will need you to make sure that this Keep does not fall into unworthy hands. We believe that Brunhild meant for you to stay here. The little ones will show you the writings she prepared.

  An ink-black dragon, about the size of a housecat, flitted towards me, bearing a roll of parchment in his long talon-like claws. I took it delicately and waggled my fingers in an offering. He rubbed his cheeks, shockingly soft like oiled leather, against my hand, then zipped away out of sight again.

  I laughed in wonder.

  I see you will be popular with the little ones, the smoky voice said tolerantly. Do not be surprised if they follow you around. They are… affectionate creatures.

  I bowed somewhat awkwardly. I could sense, though they had said nothing, that I was being dismissed. I knew that, if they needed me, I would know.

  “I swear to keep your secret,” I said, knowing that the words would be binding. I would never be able to speak a word of what I had seen here to anyone, no matter what the cost to myself.

  I could feel the approval of the dragons as I backed out of the room and back into the Keep proper.

  Chapter Six

  A nearly-silent flutter of wings warned me that I was not alone as I rejoined Gloriana outside of the doors of the Keep. I felt strangely elated and exhausted all at once. I felt as if I had survived some great ordeal only to discover that not even an hour had passed while I was occupied with changing my entire world.

  I wondered if this was how humans felt when they first stumbled into our world through one of the cracks and crevasses between.

  “The damage seems to be focused on only a few rooms,” I said before my cousin could ask me anything I would not be able to answer. I held up the scroll the dragons had given me. “This was not damaged and appears to be Brunhild’s will concerning this Keep. I haven’t read it.”

  Only the whisper of wings above me warned me before a solid weight dropped to my shoulder. A long, silver tail curled around my neck for balance as a perfect, miniature dragon peered at the scroll in my hand with a serious sort of air.

  Gloriana moved as if she wanted to take the scroll from me, but the dragon curled a claw around it possessively and she backed up quickly, looking a little squeamish.

  I could not understand her attitude. Dragons, in my opinion, were the most majestic creatures in our world. I tried to understand how she felt, but the closest I could muster was a frail sort of sympathy. She never mocked me for how I felt about Magic. I would never tease her about this.

  “We should take the scroll directly to the council,” she said, regaining her composure. “Will… your new friend be joining us?”

  I turned my head to eye the little dragon. “Well?”

  In response, I saw in my mind a flash of my face, my shoulder, and the carriage.

  “Yes,” I told Gloriana, “He will be joining us.” I reached up a hand and scratched gently under the pretty thing’s delicate chin.

  He made a sound that was nearly a purr.

  What is your name, little friend? I asked in my head, knowing he would hear me if I meant him to.

  An image of him flashing through the air-filled my mind.

  Flit?

  He chirped in agreement.

  Gloriana watched Flit warily as we climbed into her carriage. She sat across from me and to one side, as far as she could get from me and remain in the carriage. In case, I supposed, Flit decided to do something unpredictable.

  The winged greyhounds pulled us swiftly through the sky, barking occasionally back and forth as if they were making conversation as they flew. The sun was starting to get lower and the lights glinted against their short gold and silver coats, making them appear as if they had been made from molten metal.

  Gloriana did not appear inclined to make conversation, which I didn’t mind. Instead, I stroked Flit’s back and thought about the wonders I had seen, hidden in a Keep in the middle of nowhere.

  Brunhild must have kept the secret for centuries, I speculated. But what a secret to keep! It made me feel more important, just knowing what I did.

  I’d never stroked a dragon’s back until now. Most dragons would never permit such familiarity. Flit’s skin was oddly warm under my touch. I’d expected it to be like a snake’s, but it was softer and more pliable under my fingers. It felt strangely like petting Ferdie’s winged hairless cat, like soft suede or warm, fine velvet.

  Flit seemed to enjoy the attention. His eyes drooped sleepily, and soon he was curled into a silver ball on my lap, with his wings tucked tightly around him, snoring in an undignified manner.

  I grinned at Gloriana and she smiled back, shaking her head in wonder.

  The council building was nestled on a hilltop in the middle of a floating city, high above any of the human kingdoms. It was not precisely a hilltop, because the entire city was resting on clouds of Magic, not any sort of earth, but the council buildings were raised so they looked down on the rest of the city that surrounded them.

  It was a convenient space for fairies who had earned their wings, bu
t much more challenging to visit for those, like me, who hadn’t year earned their wings. This was definitely not accidental. A fairy’s status was determined by their wings. Wings were a sign that a fairy had connected in a meaningful way with our world and the Magic that breathed into every niche and cranny of it. It was supposed to be Magic itself that determined when and if a fairy earned their wings, but every ceremony I had ever heard of had been much more… bureaucratic than magical. It had lost some of its mystique and wonder of the centuries, for certain.

  Fairies, my family included, or my family especially, could be exclusive and haughty. Making things inconvenient for those who didn’t muster up… that was the fairy way. Looking down on one another was a vital aspect of our culture.

  I was used to it by now, though on rare occasions it could still rub me the wrong way even though I thought it couldn’t bother me anymore.

  Mostly because, like now, I could see my uncle, Ferdie, swooping in to land with his white-feathered wings glistening brightly in the sunlight.

  How he could be worthy, with all his underhanded cruelty, and yet I was found lacking would always sting my sense of fairness. We were the Fair Folk. How could we be so incredibly unfair?

  My subvocal growl woke Flit up from his nap. He whipped his head back and forth as he took in our surroundings, then hopped back up onto my shoulder and balanced himself by nearly throttling me with his tail.

  At my wince, he eased his grip around my throat and leaned his head on top of mine to stare around with his large, jewel-toned eyes. I suspected he might appear like I had a strange taste in jewelry instead of the fact that I was carrying a creature of rare beauty.

  I had noticed Ferdie, but it would have taken something much more dramatic than appearing with a tiny dragon to draw my uncle’s attention in my direction. He was used to being stared at. He thrived on the adoration that glowed on so many of the faces around him. He was to be noticed, not to ever notice himself. That would beneath him.

  What would that be like? I wondered absently. I wasn’t convinced that I would enjoy it as he did. He seemed to drink in the fawning adoration that surrounded him.

  I held tightly to the scroll the dragons had given me and followed Gloriana up the stairs—yet more stairs!—into the great, open, columned structure that was the home of the Fairy Council. All aspects of fairydom were celebrated and represented in this space, from the verdant woodlands to the twinkling of ornaments representing the stars on a moonless night.

  What was absent was any representation by any other being than fairies.

  Gloriana stopped by the clerks’ station and put down our names for meeting with the council, while I stared around me. I hadn’t had much opportunity to explore this part of our world. I’d never had any real reason to visit, and I wasn’t the kind to go where I wasn’t wanted.

  Except, naturally, my own home. There, I had no choice.

  “Graciously Celestial of the Reynolds Clan?” A deep voice called.

  It was too soon for us to expect to be seen by the council for our relatively minor matter.

  I turned to see a strangely tall, dark figure accompanied by a slighter, but still tall, figure garbed all in white. They were both shrouded in such a way that I could not make out their features, only that they were both tall and that the darker one was taller than the one in white.

  The other fairies hushed at the interruption and stepped back and away from these ominous figures. They, I assumed, knew who I was dealing with.

  Sadly, I did not. I had been away from Godparent and fairy matters for too long to recognize the significant players politically.

  “Yes?” I asked. “I’m Grace.”

  The fairies around us whispered to each other, creating a miasma of sound that rose in volume until the figures raised their hands, and silence resumed.

  “Please, come this way,” the taller figure said. “We need to speak to you about the murder of a young girl in your charge, the Princess Talia Aurora Briar-Rose Soleil Luna Cuthbert Veronica Felicity Eunice Adele Bronwyn Ruth Carolina of the Kingdom Gilterra.”

  I gulped, but I had no choice but to follow them out of the foyer and towards the back rooms with Gloriana trailing behind me.

  The moment we left the room, I heard the whispers start up again.

  The ominous duo led me past the usual offices and up the stairs to where the Higher Offices lay. My legs complained about every step I took, but I couldn’t request that they slow down for me to catch up. I was significantly shorter than the pair, so I had to nearly run to keep up with their superior strides. Only my pride kept me from crying mercy.

  At long last, we reached the top of the stairs and I followed the duo to a large room. It was empty save for a desk, and a couple of chairs, though the walls were lined with cases of parchment tubes and hand-bound books. I breathed in the scents of paper and ink.

  The two crossed the room and drew back their cloaks. As their backs were to me, I still could not see who was addressing me. They crossed to the chairs set beside the enormous desks and sat down.

  Only then could I see their faces.

  The taller of the two was male with short, dark hair and equally severe silver eyes in a stern face. He had the sharp features of the High Fae, those who carried the blood of the Elves of old, and not just the faerie courts. He had a narrow, long nose and heavy brows that gave him a stern visage all around. He sat down gracefully and eyed me with no expression whatsoever that I could read.

  His shorter companion sat as well, and revealed a face as delicate and feminine, as his face was masculine. Her hair was sunshine gold, and her eyes were the same shade of silver as her companion’s. She had the same sharp features as he did, though with a more delicate cast. Her lips curved in the very slightest hint of good humor.

  I bowed deeply, realizing at once who I stood before. In my hair, Flit squeaked in protest at the sudden movement. I could hear Gloriana’s skirts whisper as she, too, paid courtesy.

  Fairy Godparents enjoyed autonomy from all, except the twins. While fairies pretended that the High Fae were unnecessary, there were times in which we, too, had to submit to an outside force.

  The twins were called Justice and Mercy. They were the High Court and Judge and Executioner as far as the Fairy Council was concerned. What they spoke was law and none could say nay.

  Astraea and Dallan were their names. She was Justice, and he Mercy.

  They both looked pitiless to my eyes.

  Though I knew I had done nothing wrong, my heart immediately began hammering in fear and projected guilt. I knew that, if this pair decided that I was guilty of anything at all, I could do nothing to protect myself.

  I glanced over my shoulder at Gloriana. I would not have blamed her at all if she had decided to leave me to my fate. Her standing at my side was likely to drag her into whatever mess I had fallen into this time.

  But Gloriana was not that sort of fairy.

  “Why did you kill the Princess Talia Aurora Briar-Rose Soleil Luna Cuthbert Veronica Felicity Eunice Adele Bronwyn Ruth Carolina of the Kingdom Gilterra?” Dallan the Voice of Mercy demanded.

  I snorted in disbelief. “You believe I killed her? How strange, as I do not believe that she is dead.”

  The twins stared at me for a long moment while I heard Gloriana draw in a sharp breath at my tone.

  “Shall I explain my part in this fiasco?” I suggested, as mildly as I could with my heart threatening to strangle me. No, that was Flit’s tail again. I reached up and loosened his grip on me and stared back at the twins with as much force as I could muster.

  “Please,” Astraea the Song of Justice spoke. “We are astonished to hear you plea not just innocence, but that no crime has been committed.”

  “Oh, crime has been committed,” I said gracelessly, which was ironic considering my name. “Upon learning early this morning that the Godmother Brunhild was found dead in the woods, I grew determined to visit her home and make sure that her friends were prov
ided for. On the way, I was distracted by the thought that I should check in on the Kingdom of Gilterra, which is currently under my care because of my role in reversing the Curse that Brunhild was designated to set. The ritual we were enacting was the one known as the Sleeping Great Beauty and, until Brunhild’s death, it appeared that all parts were enacted as they should be.

  “Upon my arrival in Gilterra, I visited the Tower and discovered that in place of the princess was… a rather revolting corpse, I am disturbed to report. She was unrecognizable as anything but dead until, later I looked closer and discovered that her hands were both calloused on the fingers and had broken fingernails, which would not be possible for Princess Talia, as her Blessings forbade her hands from ever reaching such a state.

  “I had called in my supervisor, and now alerted her and the council of my theory that the girl in the tower was not the princess and that the princess must be elsewhere and still asleep because the Gilterran court was still slumbering easily.

  “They sent me to investigate Brunhild’s house as I had originally intended and we found the place in disarray as if someone had attempted to destroy the interior but ran short of time. This scroll should prove to be Brunhild’s last wishes.” I lifted the scroll in question.

  Dallan reached out a hand and I walked forward to place the scroll in his hand. Flit peered at the High Fae from his perch on my shoulder and made an inquisitive sound.

  “You are a dragon friend?” Astraea inquired.

  I bowed in her direction. “Yes. Since I was a child. An Ancient One took interest in me and the exchange was made.”

  The twins exchanged a long glance, then turned to the opening of the scroll that he held. The peered over it together, glancing on occasion in my direction.

  “Do you know what is written here?” Dallan asked.

  I shook my head. “No, sir.”

  His lips flattened. “Hmm.”

  He set the scroll on the top of the desk and leaned forward, pressing his hands into a steeple to rest his chin on.