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 (35 page)

“Wait a second, I haven’t been her protector or defender at all. If anything, it’s been the other way around. But she has had a mortal defender.” He patted his leg and called, “Here, Beau.” The bulldog trotted over eagerly. Michael glanced at Amelia and Athena. “Or is he mortal? He seems to be in on the secret.”

“He’s mortal,” Amelia confirmed. “Animals don’t try to rationalize what their senses show them, so they’re more aware of reality than humans tend to be.”

Emily boosted her dog into her sister’s lap. “Now, give your Auntie Sophie a big kiss.” Under her breath, she added, “And I hope she doesn’t kill me for this.”

Beau licked Sophie’s cheek and whined. Her eyelids fluttered, then opened, and then she smiled. “Well, hello there, Beauregard,” she said. The dog licked her again, and she wrapped her arms around him in a hug while pressing her nose to his.

“Are you okay, Soph?” Emily asked.

“Yes, of course,” Sophie replied, but her voice sounded vague and unsure. She glanced around like she was looking for someone and frowned. “Maeve?”

“Down and out, but I don’t know if it’s permanent.”

Sophie let the dog go, and he jumped back down to the ground. She placed her hands on the arms of the throne and took a deep breath before shoving herself upward. For a moment, she seemed surprised to be standing, and then her sister caught her in an enthusiastic embrace. “I knew you’d come for me, I knew it,” Emily said, burying her face against Sophie’s neck. As they pulled apart, Emily added, “Though I’ll admit that I wasn’t expecting all this.”

“Overkill?” Sophie asked.

“It wouldn’t be you if it wasn’t.” Emily draped an arm around her sister’s shoulders. “But maybe you could learn something about not using nukes in a flyswatter situation.”

“I think this may actually have been a nuclear situation,” Sophie said wearily. “But it’s a long story for another time. Now we just need to get out of here.”

“That’s okay with me,” Emily said with deep feeling.

Sophie turned to look at Maeve, who still had Jen and her other people kneeling around her. “What should we do about her?” Amelia asked.

“I don’t think she’ll be a problem,” Sophie said, still sounding a little dazed. “If I know anything about fairy lore, she won’t be able to leave the palace.”

“What do you mean?” Emily asked, clutching her sister’s arm.

“I don’t like the idea of leaving her in the palace,” Amelia said. “That puts her dangerously close to the throne.”

“The throne won’t have her,” Sophie said, heading down the dais steps.

“But why can’t Maeve leave?” Emily asked, keeping up with Sophie.

“She drank the wine,” Sophie said with a gesture toward the banquet table.

“Silly her,” Emily said, her voice tight.

Michael and the others had to jog to keep up with Sophie. He could hardly blame her for wanting to get out of there, but he had unfinished business. “What about Jen?” he asked.

She stopped abruptly. “Oh, yes, I’m sorry.”

She’d just started to turn back to the dais when a voice said, “Very well done, little one.” They all turned to see a tall, red-haired fairy who looked vaguely familiar to Michael, like he’d seen her in his dreams.

“Are we even now?” Sophie asked with a sharp edge to her voice. “I did what you asked. I kept Maeve off the throne.”

“I think you know what more you need to do,” the fairy said.

Sophie shook her head. “No. Not that.”

“You were willing to give yourself up to me and stay forever not too long ago.”

“This is different.”

The woman studied Sophie shrewdly. “You know, you wouldn’t have to stay here all the time. The throne can remain vacant and occupied at the same time.”

“Sophie, what’s she talking about?” Emily asked.

“The last fairy queen was our ancestor. She left the throne and the Realm to be with the enchanter who was supposed to slay her. I guess you could call it the ultimate Romeo and Juliet story, except they managed to pull it off. And that makes me a rightful heir to the throne.”

“The Realm needs a queen now,” the fairy woman said.

“No, it doesn’t, and we’re here to see that the throne remains empty,” Amelia said, moving to stand between the fairy and Sophie.

“The Realm is dying and will die without a queen,” the fairy insisted.

“It’s winter here. It should never be winter here,” Sophie said with a solemn nod.

“Except in your footsteps,” the fairy said. “There, summer returns.”

“Really, Soph? That’s kind of cool,” Emily said. “And maybe she’s right. You could commute instead of living here full-time.” She turned to the elderly sisters and added, “Better her on the throne than any of the other fairy rulers. Trust me, I’ve run into some of them.”

“You do owe me a debt, and believe me, this is the option that will be least painful to you personally.” The fairy turned to face Michael, and the look she gave him made him shiver.

“Okay, then, what do I need to do?” Sophie asked with a resigned sigh. “I’ve taken the throne, but apparently that wasn’t enough.”

“You must be crowned.”

“But where’s the crown?”

“Usually, that comes before the throne.”

“I didn’t choose to take the throne,” Sophie snapped. “It was all the throne’s doing.”

A burst of light shot through the hall as the great doors at the far end opened. Michael had to shield his eyes with his good arm. “I was afraid of this,” the fairy woman said. “They were bound to notice that the castle had come back to life.”

“What is it?” Michael asked.

“We need to hide,” Emily said urgently. “These are some of the other fairy rulers, and I’ve seen what they do to their prisoners.”

 

Fifty-four

 

The Great Hall

The Next Moment

 

“Would they really—” Sophie started to say, but then she noticed that Tallulah and Eamon had already vanished. She ducked behind the banquet table while Emily dragged Michael to safety behind a pillar. The two older sisters found their own hiding places.

It seemed like forever before she could hear footsteps approaching. She crawled to the end of the table and peered between the chairs and the table legs to see white-haired and black-clad fairies striding forward as though they were entering their own palace. She could see why Emily had suggested hiding. These fairies dropped the room’s temperature by several degrees just with the look in their eyes.

She crawled under one of the massive chairs when the footsteps stopped next to the table. “Ah, refreshments. How hospitable,” a woman’s voice said, and Sophie had to stifle a laugh. The fairies really needed to be better about reading their own press so they’d know the rules.

Maeve’s voice rang through the hall. “Fiontan, Niamh, you are the first to come swear me fealty.”

“Maeve? You?” a male voice said from nearby as Sophie scrambled to the other end of the table so she could see Maeve. Maeve was on her feet again, standing near the throne but not touching it. Her people, including the human women, were kneeling before her as though she was a crowned queen.

Maeve spread her arms, gesturing at the seemingly empty hall. “Who else do you think woke the palace?”

Light shot through the hall as the doors opened again, and this time footsteps on the marble floor weren’t the only sound. Sophie heard the clang of weapons and shouts of battle approaching. She risked rising to her knees to peer over the table and see what was happening. The black-clad fairies put down their goblets and placed their hands on their weapons.

Sophie still couldn’t see who the new arrivals were, but it sounded like there were a lot of them, and they were already fighting each other. Then something else caught her attention. The filigreed base holding a bowl of fruit was glowing ever so slightly, and now she saw that it looked like a crown. It was like the answer key to one of those “find the hidden objects” puzzles she’d liked as a child, with the hidden objects highlighted. The crown of the Realm was holding up a bowl of grapes.

But she couldn’t get to it, not with one of the fairy factions standing right next to it and at least two more factions battling their way forward. While the fairies were all focused on each other, Sophie darted behind the pillar where Emily, Michael, and the enchantresses had hidden. “I found the crown,” she whispered. “See, under the bowl of grapes.”

“That trivet?” Emily asked.

“The one that’s glowing,” Sophie said.

“I don’t see a glow.”

That was a relief to Sophie. If she was the only one who saw the crown that way, it was less likely that any of the fairy rulers would spot it. “Trust me, it’s there,” she said. “Now if they would just move away from the food and drink for a moment.”

But, no, that would be too easy. Not only were more fairies heading to meet those standing at the table, but Maeve had come down from the dais. “I will have no warfare within my hall,” she commanded.


Your
hall?” one of the newcomers, who was improbably dressed in a tuxedo, snarled, though he did lower his weapon.

“How else do you think the palace returned to life? I said I knew how to find and take the throne, but none of you believed me. Now, please, refresh yourself at my table.”

“You’re not wearing the crown,” a fairy woman in a blood-spattered evening gown said.

“It would mess up my hair,” Maeve said. “Besides, it’s merely symbolic. The important thing is that I brought the castle back.”

Some of the newcomers poured themselves goblets of wine, but the tuxedoed man refrained. He still stared warily at Maeve in a way that made her twitch with unease. “Please, Niall, have some wine,” she said, her voice a bit shrill.

“I feel I shouldn’t take your hospitality without first swearing fealty to you as my queen,” he said. He gestured to the others. “We all should kneel to you before we sit at your table.”

“Yes, you should,” she said, gesturing to the floor in front of her.

“Ah, but these things should be done properly,” Niall said with an unctuous smile. “We must kneel before the throne to recognize you as rightful queen of the Realm.”

“That’s really more of a tradition than an obligation,” she said with a nervous laugh.

“Humor me,” he said, the charm in his voice turning to steel. “Or is there a reason you don’t want to sit in the throne you’ve so valiantly won?”

Maeve hesitated a moment too long, and in that time, the others all put their goblets down and drew weapons. Soon, Maeve faced a variety of knives, swords, arrows, and guns—an arsenal of the ages. “If you insist,” she said stiffly and began walking toward the dais like a bride with cold feet heading to the altar. The others followed close on her heels.

Halfway there, she made a break for it, darting toward the corridor that led to the garden. She wasn’t fast enough for the other fairies, and they moved to block her. Her guards joined the melee. Swords clanged, bowstrings twanged, and shots rang out as the fairy factions fought each other and Maeve’s people.

Sophie saw her chance and rushed to the table, where she tossed the bowl of grapes aside and picked up the crown. “Okay, now it looks like a crown,” said Emily, who had joined her, along with the others. Eamon had reappeared at some point and stood next to Emily. “So, now what? You put it on?”

“Well, usually someone else puts the crown on, but I don’t see any archbishops around, so I suppose I’ll have to pull a Napoleon,” Sophie said. She lifted the crown and placed it on her head. Although it had seemed delicate and light, it weighed heavily on her.

“Should something happen?” Michael asked. “How will we know if it worked?”

Sophie glanced around. “Nothing seems to have changed. Maybe I have to sit on the throne while wearing the crown.”

“To get there, we’ll have to get through them,” Michael said with a glance at the fight.

“This is starting to make the American electoral college system look like the simple way of choosing a leader,” she muttered. Then she gave Michael a direct glare. “And there is no ‘we’ to this. You stay here. I can get to the throne.”

She was weighing the relative merits of staying under as much cover as possible by running from pillar to pillar until she was nearly at the dais as opposed to just making a run for it when Michael grabbed her wrist. “You’re not going to get anywhere while you’re wearing that thing. They’ll know what you’re up to.”

Wincing, she reached up and removed the crown. “What should I do with it?”

He held out his hand. “I can hide it in my sling.”

“That’s just a ploy to get in the fight,” she accused.

“Well, it won’t fit in your bra,” Emily said, snatching the crown out of Sophie’s hand and giving it to Michael.

“It’s not too heavy for you, is it?” Sophie asked as he tucked the crown into his sling.

He acted like that was a surprising question. “No, not at all. Now, come on.”

The battling fairies still hadn’t noticed them, but that didn’t last long. When they saw a cluster of humans rushing toward the dais, they stopped fighting each other and turned to the interlopers. “We’ll take care of this,” Amelia said. “Go!” She and Athena took up defensive positions, firing off bursts of magic to keep the fairies at bay. Sophie tried to ignore the arrows flying past as she ran.

They’d just reached the dais steps when Michael cried out and sagged against Sophie. She caught him before he fell. “What hit me?” he gasped. “My good arm, it’s gone numb. I can’t move it.”

“Sophie?” Emily begged in distress.

“It’s probably elf-shot,” Sophie said. “I know how to treat it, but I don’t have the supplies.”

“Go,” Michael urged. “Take the crown.”

Her heart wrenched at the thought of leaving him lying there, injured and helpless, but she remembered her mission. She reached into his sling, took out the crown, and ran up the steps toward the throne.

Some of the fairies had made it past Amelia and Athena, and Maeve was racing Sophie to the dais. Maeve got to the throne first and stood blocking it, but Sophie took a couple of running steps and launched herself into the tour jeté of a lifetime. She hadn’t just been boasting about the kind of air she could get. She kicked up with one leg, hitting Maeve square in the jaw, then twisted her body around in the air, scissoring her legs, and landed on one foot on the edge of the throne’s seat. As soon as she’d caught her balance and had both feet under her, she placed the crown on her head, hoping that standing on the throne counted.

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