Read A Fairy Tale Online

Authors: Shanna Swendson

Tags: #FIC010000 FICTION / Fairy Tales, #folk tales, #Legends & Mythology, #FIC044000 FICTION / Contemporary Women, #FIC009010 FICTION / Fantasy / Contemporary

A Fairy Tale (32 page)

“Only if you’re into winter.”

The others turned to stare at him. “Is that what you see?” Amelia asked.

“Yeah. You don’t?”

“He has a four-leaf clover,” Athena said. “Sophie said the Realm was dying.”

“What does it look like to you?” Michael asked.

“It’s bright and colorful, like a Technicolor movie,” Amelia said.

“It’s a glamour to hide the true state of things,” Eamon said. “Most of us prefer not to see the truth.”

They stopped at the edge of a forest, beyond which a grassy expanse sloped down to a river. Across the river was a towering wall of thorny vines. Michael started to ask why they’d stopped, but then he saw that they hadn’t arrived first. Maeve was already there in what looked like a showdown with Sophie. Michael felt a pang when he saw Jen and another red-haired girl with a bedraggled-looking Emily between them. Not only was Jen not trying to escape, but she was helping hold Emily. She couldn’t possibly realize what she was doing, he told himself. More fairies dressed in that Rat Pack style were part of the group.

“Now what?” Michael asked Amelia. He doubted that two old women, a sick fairy, a wounded cop, and a bulldog would be able to free the captives, but he felt like they ought to do
something
.

Amelia frowned in thought for a moment before giving a very Sophie-like smile. “Let’s see what happens.”

 

Forty-six

 

The River

Soon Afterward

 

Sophie tried to buy time by saying, “Let me think about it.”

“Why do you need to think?” Maeve snapped.

“You’re fae and you don’t know what to do,” Sophie pointed out. “What do you expect of a human?”

“My people will hurt your sister if you don’t give me what I want.”

“Yes, I quite understand that.” Sophie doubted that Tallulah would see Emily’s peril as a valid excuse for not honoring an obligation. Even so, she wasn’t going to let harm come to her sister. The problem was, she had no clue how to get Maeve across the river without getting her feet wet, not if flying didn’t work. A boat, maybe? But where was she supposed to get a boat?

Then she noticed the water. It sparkled the way wind-whipped water did when the sun hit it at the right angle, but there was no wind. She stared longer at the sparkling water and realized that the light was coming from below the surface. It was the small creatures she’d seen earlier and so casually dismissed. They must have followed her. Could they help? They were small, but there were a lot of them. And she was desperate. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she said, “It might be nice if I had some help with this. I may not be able to do it alone.”

“Do it, or else,” Maeve warned.

Hoping the small fairies had understood her plea, Sophie went to stand at the water’s edge. A large lily pad emerged from the water in front of her, like a stepping stone. It didn’t look like it would support human weight, but she hoped this was the help she’d asked for. Taking a deep breath while trying to look totally calm and confident, she stepped out on to the lily pad. Another one immediately appeared in front of her.

She turned back to Maeve. “It looks like all you need is a little faith,” she said. That applied as much to her as to Maeve. Stepping into the unknown with her fate entirely in someone else’s hands wasn’t in her nature. Without waiting to see what Maeve would do, she forced herself to step forward onto the next lily pad. Another appeared in front of her.

Maeve wrestled with indecision for a moment, then she waved her hands over her dress until it shortened and the skirt flared. Her shoes changed into flats similar to those Sophie wore, but gold like her dress. She stepped onto the lily pad, and Sophie stepped onto the next one. They moved across the river that way, one lily pad at a time, with Maeve stepping directly behind Sophie.

Just before Sophie reached the shore, Maeve pushed her from behind. Sophie’s balance was excellent, but the lily pad dipped dangerously to one side. Getting her feet wet didn’t worry her, since she didn’t care about gaining the throne for herself, but she didn’t want to fall into the water. Then the lily pad shifted, rising higher so she remained dry. With a silent thanks to her allies, Sophie jumped off the pad onto the shore, then turned to see a scowling Maeve step onto the final pad, which quickly dipped. Sophie was sure she saw water lapping over Maeve’s foot, but Maeve acted as though nothing had happened as she stepped onto the shore. All the lily pads disappeared beneath the water. Sophie caught a glimpse of glimmers under the water near the shore where she stood.

She turned to see the vines on one section of the wall parting slowly, uncoiling from each other to reveal a drawbridge. When the vines had moved completely, the drawbridge creakily lowered, bridging the river and opening a portal through the walls into a wildly overgrown garden.
They’d made it past the first task, but she didn’t celebrate. After all, she’d brought Maeve one step closer to the throne.

Maeve called across the river to her people, “Bring the captives here, and then keep anyone else from crossing this bridge.” Two of the guards escorted Emily, Jen, and the other redhaired woman over the bridge, and while they were halfway across, Maeve grabbed Sophie’s arm and hustled her through the doorway into the garden. As soon as all of them passed through the entry, a heavy golden portcullis dropped behind them with an ominous clang.

Sophie had the sinking feeling that no one would leave these walls until a new queen had been crowned. Even if she stopped Maeve, they might not be able to escape.

 

Forty-seven

 

Across the River

Meanwhile

 

When the drawbridge fell, Amelia turned to the others and said, “Be ready to run for it.” Michael wasn’t sure he was up to much more running, but he thought he could handle the hundred or so feet between him and the drawbridge. His heart gave a painful lurch that had nothing to do with his gunshot wound when he saw Jen and that other woman walking Emily across the bridge, and then he had to bite his lip to keep from shouting when the golden bars filled the entryway, trapping Jen and the others inside.

Amelia muttered a very unladylike curse as the portal closed. To make matters worse, Maeve’s people moved to block the bridge, like they were expecting invaders.

The sound of a hunting horn rang out, and Eamon groaned.

“What is it?” Michael asked.

“Fiontan and Niamh are coming,” Eamon explained. “They are among the other rulers. They must have followed Maeve.”

Athena smirked. “Hang on to your hat. This will get interesting.”

“How interesting?” Michael asked.

“War,” Eamon answered.

Men on horseback topped the nearby hill and rode full-on toward Maeve’s people. Michael couldn’t tell how many there were, they rode by in such a furious blur, but he got the impression of great numbers.

Then yet another group appeared. These looked less fierce. They weren’t on horseback and they didn’t carry lances, swords, or spears. They looked more like they were set to party everyone to death, and they were dressed like something out of a badly colorized black-and-white movie, but then one of the men pulled a Tommy gun from inside his coat, and Michael realized they were serious. “I knew Niall and Orla wouldn’t miss this,” Eamon said with a nod. Still more groups arrived, all in historical attire from various eras. It was like a mob war had broken out on Halloween.

“What do we do?” Michael asked anyone who might have an answer.

“Nothing,” Amelia replied. “We let them fight it out, and if we get a chance, we run for the drawbridge.”

If Michael had any illusions about how dangerous fairies were, they were shattered by the battle that broke out among them—a battle that stood between him and Jen, Sophie, and Emily.

 

Forty-eight

 

The Keep

Meanwhile

 

Emily flinched when she heard the portcullis drop. A few moments later when she heard the hunting horn, she was glad she was locked inside. She might have been stuck with Maeve, but she was also with Sophie, and when things got sticky, it was always best to be near Sophie.

The garden looked like what grew around the ruins of antebellum mansions back home, something that had been planted with care but which had gone wild since then. Hedges of rosebushes grew well above her head on either side of a white path, with other plants scrambling for position at the base of the hedges. The air was heavy with the perfume of the roses.

“Now the path,” Maeve said to Sophie. “Sing that part.”

“To reach my side, tell her to walk down a path of shale and shell. But she must not step upon a shell or she won’t find the way to my heart,” she sang, then added, “And, no, it doesn’t say how. Presumably, those who are worthy will be able to figure that out for themselves.” Emily could hear the suppressed laughter in Sophie’s voice as she added, “Somehow I doubt flying is the answer.”

Maeve bent to study the pathway. “But the stones are all intermingled,” she said. “It is impossible to walk without treading on shells, not even the way you dance on your toes.”

Sophie shrugged. “Well, if you want to give up …”

Maeve straightened and whirled on Sophie, grabbing her by the arm. “You know how to do it, don’t you? I demand that you tell me.” Emily held her breath, knowing they were in dangerous territory and things were likely to get ugly very soon. She looked for something to hide under or behind and wondered if she could maneuver her two captors to be between her and whatever explosion Sophie set off.

But Sophie allowed herself to be shaken like a rag doll. When Maeve stopped shaking her, Sophie said calmly, “I can clear a path.” She reached with her free hand and delicately removed Maeve’s fingers from her arm before turning to face the pathway. She raised her arms toward the path and sang something that Emily recognized as a list of ballet steps in French. She bit her lip to stop herself from giggling. Oh yeah, Sophie was up to something, and she couldn’t wait to see what it was.

Whatever Sophie did couldn’t have been total nonsense, though, because a glowing spot appeared in front of her on the path. The glow then shrank from the middle of the spot, leaving a ring. Sophie stepped into the ring and another glowing spot appeared in front of her. She turned back to Maeve. “This works like crossing the river. Follow in my footsteps, but be careful.”

Maeve glanced over her shoulder at Emily and the others. “May they follow?”

“If they’re not trying for the throne, I imagine it won’t matter where they step once we’ve gone down the path.”

Sophie moved on to the next glowing spot, and Maeve cautiously followed her onto the first spot. Emily thought she saw a bit of the glow dart back into the center before Maeve stepped. When Maeve had taken a few steps, she called back to the others, “Follow us. I want witnesses to my triumph.”

As they moved onto the path, Emily heard the sounds of battle outside the walls. She’d seldom doubted her older sister, but this time, she really hoped Sophie knew what she was doing. If she didn’t, the consequences could be dire.

 

Forty-nine

 

Outside the Keep

Meanwhile

 

Maeve’s people weren’t able to guard the bridge for very long once they were drawn into the battle. Unfortunately, the battle also kept Michael and the others away from the bridge. Although the various factions had very distinct attire and weapons, in the melee it was hard to tell who was on which side. “Who do we want to win?” Michael asked Eamon.

“We want them to destroy each other,” the fairy said, his voice ice-cold. “It will be better for the Realm if all of them are weakened.”

Athena tugged on Michael’s sleeve. “I think we can make it now,” she said. A path had opened, but the fighting was so chaotic that Michael wasn’t sure how long it would remain open. He was still recovering from a gunshot. He had no desire to add a sword wound.

Keeping his bad arm tight against his chest, he ran behind the two old women and Beau as Eamon brought up the rear. When they reached the drawbridge, Michael turned back and fished in his pocket, coming up with a handful of iron nails. “Go on,” he told Eamon before scattering the nails on the ground at the end of the bridge. Then he crossed the bridge and joined the others.

Now they were on the other side of the river, but they were still trapped outside the keep. He wasn’t sure that they were in a better position, other than having a river between them and the battle. “Can we get past that?” he asked.

“Give us a moment,” Amelia said, then she and Athena put their heads together. Peering between the golden bars, Michael spied Jen, Emily, and the other redheaded woman heading down a path between walls of overgrown rosebushes toward the center of a wild garden.

 

Fifty

 

The Garden

Meanwhile

 

Sophie reached the end of the path, then turned to watch Maeve finish following in her footsteps. A faint flutter of glow receded into the hedges, and Sophie sent another silent thanks to her tiny allies. As much as she hated to admit it, it was rather nice to not have to do everything for herself. But was it cheating to get help?

No, she decided. Fairy tales were full of stories about people who succeeded because they got help like that. Maybe that was even the test. One had to prove worthiness to rule by admitting one couldn’t do it all and by recognizing the contributions of the tiniest and ugliest members of the Realm. Besides, it wasn’t as though
she
was trying for the throne. She was merely making it look like she was helping Maeve while still blocking her.

Maeve came to the end of the path. “Isn’t there supposed to be a maze?” she asked, staring at the unbroken wall of hedge that created a dead end.

“Yes, and the song gives instructions on getting through the maze,” Sophie replied.

“But how do we enter the maze? The hedges must have grown up. There has to be an entry in here somewhere.” Maeve stuck her hands into the hedges and tried to push the branches apart. It would have been lovely if the hedges had bit her arms off at the elbows, thought Sophie, but all they did was snag on Maeve’s sleeves.

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