Tesla's Revenge
Page 33
I had chosen her well.
Then I would take my next victim, a Foghar Court Lord. Yes, I knew that logic should dictate that I kill Peter first, but I still didn't have that formula for his elixir of life... yet. However, if I created enough of a disturbance, so that it rippled throughout Neverland, then he would most likely be sequestered by the Fae. This would in turn, create an opportunity for me to rummage through his potions cabinet.
I had to be careful though, because he knew the exact location of every ingredient and potion he stored in that damn tree. If he even suspected I was nosing around there again, there would be consequences. I had seen one too many of his babysitters get sold on the auction block to the highest bidder for doing less, so I knew better. It didn't matter if I was one of his oldest, most competent nannies. He would do what he had to in order to protect his interests.
Unfortunately, I knew better than to look for any journals that might list his potion's recipes. Peter could neither read nor write, but he could speak all four dialects of the various seasonal Fae courts and a large number of other languages, some I knew and some I didn’t. After all, who do you think taught me? Children needed to be tended to, and not all of them spoke English. I still refused to be a part of the child-snatching end of the business. I had to draw the line somewhere.
Most of my responsibilities were fairly straightforward. Keep the tree house reasonably clean, where Peter didn't reside, since he slept in his alchemy kitchen in an underground tunnel that was apart from said tree house. I was to chaperone the children during excursions and lastly, I was to keep his territory free of pests.
Keeping the main house clear of vermin was challenging. There were many pests in Neverland. Brownies are a perfect example. If you trespassed into their territory, they yelled back curses at you like a pirate, giving your position away to bigger predators, and then they might even shoot you with their tiny arrows until you cleared off.
Even the vegetation was dangerous. There were the lovely and delicate water colored walking flowers that liked to feast on toenails. One learns quickly to always keep a few trimmings in one’s pocket, because shoes were optional here.
The more mundane villains included the Merpoeple and the Pirates. Many of the latter didn't even challenge Peter anymore. They saw him coming and they automatically lowered their tridents and swords, respectively. However, if they saw me, I had to fight my way out. Of course, there were the four kingdoms of Fairy, of which there was some overlapping and thusly disputable land claims with the other inhabitants.
My duties supervising the children were mainly trying to keep everyone alive during raids and the exploratory field trips that Peter so loved. Those were always tons of fun. Once the children were able to procreate, he found other homes for them. That was where he drew the line. So, none of my charges were over the age of fourteen, but most were over the age of seven, which lead to much squabbling and clutter.
I did not do clutter. I was the kind of girl that counted her bullets in a perfectly straight line before loading them into my six barreled Iver Johnson pistols with handles that were inlaid with mother-of-pearl. Then I counted them again.
My other preferred weapon was the Black Widow blow dart. I custom made all my own poisons for them, but not while I was here in Neverland. Peter prohibits anyone the use of his kitchen, unless I was under the direct instruction and supervision of him. I also favored some silver alloy stilettos, concerning which I was allowed to carry on me at all times. The other weapons had to be stored until good use could be made of them. Usually, that meant leaving Peter's jurisdiction.
Peter was as often here as not. He divided his time from recruiting more children away from their homes, from my dimension, attending the Fae court gatherings, of which there were quite a lot of those pomp and ceremonial gatherings, and spending time with his clutch. I both dreaded and anticipated his homecomings. I didn’t mind much when he led his recruits on secret missions to attack the Pirates or kill some ilk of a jabberwocky, but I hated it when he dumped the new children on me and left. It left the smallest of them befuddled and the eldest of them angry.
Make no mistake; Neverland brought its own daily challenges that constantly forced me to flex what abilities I had. It always seemed a little easier to access my very limited invisibility ability here, as opposed to when I was back in the Republic of America. That was one of the few skills that Peter trained with me on a regular schedule. On rare occasion, he would give me a lesson in his kitchen. Those were almost worth the price I paid to be his live-in nanny.
Fortunately, there were always two of us nannies at any given time watching over the dozen or so children he was cultivating for the Fae Courts to eventually enjoy. He only allowed women to supervise the children. He told me once that he had on one occasion allowed one of his boys to grow into a man. He didn't sell him on the block, in order to gain a friend and chaperone. Apparently, they were not suited to this kind of work, so he never bothered with them again. It seemed like there was more to this story, but that was Peter’s way: leaving the worst to the imagination. For Peter, the ways of wickedness were many.
In contrast, he had no gender preference to the children he stole. While you may have heard of his infamous Lost Boys, let me tell you that the girls he brought over were far more feral and vicious than the boys ever were, which of course made them all the more suitable for their future Fae masters to play with.
Presently, the other supervisor of the rat pack was a girl named Molly. We only went by first names here. I still remember the first time I met the girl with long brown ringlets and perfectly pressed knickers. It became all too evident to Peter and me that she was not going to be intelligent enough to be the kind of consort that the Fae expected. I also didn't particularly get on with her. She wanted a confidant, which could not be found in me. She always fawned on forever and a day over the latest actor of the stage. Peter would even grant her short respites back into the Republic to see a show or two.
She was gone right now on one of these excursions. This trip it was to see Theodore Allen Buchannon, who was recently discovered to be a cross dresser, but this didn't put off Molly's adoration. She simply stated, "It doesn’t mean he was gay, he simply liked to dress up in pretty clothes, and really, who wouldn't want to wear the latest designs by Mario?" Mario being the enigmatic designer from Milan who wove skeins of magical color changing thread into his designs. They changed colors like a big mood ring, accordingly to your current temperament through the fabric. Most men staunchly avoided the fabric in favor for their more austere darker, solid colored wools, but not Theodore.
She was the children's mother away from home. She attended to the job of wiping tears and tending scraped knees very efficiently. She was put on the rotation with the rest of us nannies, at first, but then she started to complain about going back to Wales, and here she has been ever since. The only exception being when she took in a show, but the rest of the time she stayed in Neverland. To tide her over until her next monthly trip, Peter kept her supplied with the latest fashion magazines and rag mags.
By my estimation, she has been here almost continuously for the last sixty years. Being in Neverland that long had to addle her wits, but somehow I doubt she had many to addle in the first place. I'll give it to Peter though; he rotated the rest of us out just often enough to not take our own lives and enough to not annoy him to the point of killing us off. If I had been stuck with her forever, I would have to seriously reconsider my options.
I had gotten a few hours reprieve while the kids were quarantined for daring each other to eat poisonous glowworms. Molly stayed to tend them, while I was supposed to be gathering the blue polka dotted mushrooms that were the antidote the bizarre zebra striped rashes that had erupted on their delicate hides. This was how I got permission to carry my pistols with me.
But after collecting only a handful of the fungus, just to keep up my ruse, I sat here soaked through with snowmelt. My primary personal objective was n
o longer merely surviving Peter.
I had the once in a lifetime, or four, opportunity to try to make things better for the little orphans he smuggled over. I had ten magical bullets, but chose to only fill three rounds in the barrel chamber of one of my pistols. I had hidden the rest of them. If I were caught, I would have to swallow the few on me in a hurry. Of course, there would be an inquiry on how I even got the three, but that was only if I were caught. My plan was to shake Neverland to its core and that required me killing at least one of the royal lines from each of the four Fae kingdoms.
Today I had come to kill a Winter Court Fairy princess.
I leveled my aim and took a deep steadying breath. The lavender sky overhead stretched into forever, or so it seemed in the winter realm. I leveled my sight, took in account the blustery cold wind, and then released the safety. My eyes tracked every movement she made.
My target kneeled down and picked some berries before turning her attention to some of the ice flowers that they cultivated through the freezing temperatures. She stood, cut some, and then placed them in a basket. She walked three steps. Her hair blew to the southeast. Her right hand moved her hair off her face. Just as I applied pressure to the trigger, a man seemingly appeared out of thin air next to her, startling both her and me.
But where I remained stunned, she turned into his embrace and said in the tongue of the Winter Court, "Oh, Adair, what are you doing here?"
"Fenella, you shouldn't be out here unattended?" He astutely answered.
My palms grew sweaty despite the coldness. Looking back on it now, I realized that what I was about to do was rather foolhardy. Oh well. It seemed consistent with my recent history of mucking things up and then leaving the scene. I had been part of a team that assassinated the President of the Republic of America and then abandoned the scene. I was also partly responsible for releasing some sort primordial demon upon the earth, and left without doing anything about it. But really, how can one argue otherwise when you are summoned to another plane without your permission?
I figured, what the hell, and quietly removed one of the rounds from my pistol and transferred it to my second pistol, and took double aim on my intended victims. They were way too involved in some sort of illicit affair to notice me, because during the time I was considering what to do, Adair and Fenella had begun kissing each other quite ardently. I knew she was not his wife. I knew that her husband was the son of the King of the Winter Court.
I aimed.
I pulled the triggers.
Two shots rang out simultaneously. Both hit my prey in their heads at precisely the same time.
Both went down in a satisfying and bloody heap.
There were no witnesses besides myself. In fact, there were not even any animals to be spooked by the sound of my pistols' exploding barrels.
Then it happened.
Bam!
My body lost its balance from a blow to the side of my head that caused me to fall into the soft snow. So I may have asked myself, if I was being so very careful, how in the world did someone just hit me? My vision blurred for a moment, but when I was able to focus again, I saw who had boxed my ear.
Peter.
Then I was hit again in the head.
That was when everything went dark.