Wings (22 page)

The unicorn was making soulful eyes at the woman when Tamisin asked him, “Are you afraid of snakes?”

“No,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

Tamisin grinned. “It doesn’t matter. Herbert, I’d like you to meet my friend … I’m sorry, I never did get your name.”

“Lamia Lou,” said the woman, and Jak could hear her slithering out of the grass. Herbert’s only reaction was to wuffle his lips and take a step closer.

“Hello, Herbert,” Lamia Lou said.

“Hello, gorgeous!” said the unicorn, his brown eyes flashing.

Just before he passed out, Jak decided that he had been hallucinating after all.

Jak had come to while Tamisin was telling the lamia that they were trying to reach the fairies’ forest by circling the sea. The snake woman had insisted that she would take them across it herself. They’d waited while she bid Herbert, the unicorn, a heartfelt farewell. Jak could barely stand when the lamia offered to let them ride on her snaky tail and Tamisin had to help him climb on, but he felt a lot better when Tamisin climbed on behind him and wrapped her arms around him. She’d told him that she was still mad at him, but he was too fuzzy-headed to worry about it. Nor did he worry about Tobi, who had disappeared during Jak’s fight with Nihlo. No matter what happened, Tobi always seemed to reappear, unhurt.

If Jak had felt stronger, he would have found the beginning of their trip across the sea exciting as the grass flashed past and birds shot into the sky at their approach. By the time his strength returned enough that he was able to sit up on his own, he realized that he couldn’t see above the grass, and so had no way to judge time or distance. He grew bored even though the snake woman was very good- natured, telling them about the birds flying above them, the creatures that lived in the grass, and, eventually, what she could see of the forest ahead. She didn’t stop to let them off until she was within easy
walking distance of the Old Forest, but she left as soon as Jak and Tamisin slid off her back.

Now that they’d reached the forest where the fairies lived, Tamisin began to look nervous. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” she said. “What am I supposed to do—walk in and say, ‘Hi, I’m part fairy. I need the queen’s protection because I have goblins chasing me’?”

“Something like that,” said Jak. “We don’t have much choice.”

Tamisin shrugged. “I suppose. It’s getting late though. It’ll be dark in a few hours. Why don’t we come back and see her tomorrow?”

“We’ve come all this way to see her and we’re not turning away now. Besides,” Jak said, glancing back the way they’d come, “our ride just left.”

Although the forest fronted the rippling grass for as far as they could see, there weren’t very many places where someone could enter the fairies’ domain. The trees grew so close together that they resembled a solid wall of bark and leaves. From where Jak and Tamisin stood, it looked as if there was only one opening.

They waded through the shorter grass that lapped at the shoreline. As they drew closer, they could see that a path led into the forest. They had scarcely set foot on the path when a hideous bearlike monster jumped out from behind a tree and roared at them. It was big and burly and half covered with a dense coat of fur. Its face was so contorted that its eyes were nearly shut. Tamisin screamed and jumped back when the monster gnashed
its fangs and flailed at her with its horrible claws, but Jak wasn’t as easily intimidated.

“Bruno, is that you?” he asked, peering at the monster.

The monster unscrunched its terrifying face and opened one eye wider, revealing a warm brown color. “Jak?” it said, opening the other eye. Suddenly it looked a lot friendlier. “Hey there! Good to see you’re back.”

“What
are
you doing here?” asked Jak.

Bruno rubbed one of his bearlike ears and grunted. “I’m a guard now. They offered me the job right after I left the island. Who’s your friend?”

“What
are
you doing?” grated a gnome with a white beard and red cheeks as he stepped out from behind a tree. The pair of spectacles dangling from a string tied around his neck bounced against his chest as he walked. Crossing his arms over his potbelly, he planted his feet and glared at Bruno. “You’re supposed to scare away intruders, not start a conversation!”

“Sorry, Mr. Leadless,” grumbled Bruno. “I’ll do better next time.”

The little man’s face flamed red and a vein bulged in his forehead. “There will be no next time if you don’t do better this time! Now try again.”

“But Jak here is an old friend of mine and …”

“I don’t care if he’s your great-aunt Peachbottom. Do your job and scare him off!”

“Actually,” said Jak, “we’re here to see the queen.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” the gnome said. “That makes you
just like everybody else!
Bruno?”

“Sorry, guys. Gotta do my job.” The bear goblin drew
himself up to his full height so that he towered over them. Taking a deep breath, he waved his paws in the air, scrunched his face to make it look hideous again, and roared so loudly that Jak’s ears hurt.

“What’s the meaning of this?” A shirtless man wearing shaggy white pants popped out from behind a tree. Tamisin found herself staring when she realized that he wasn’t really a man, but a satyr, just like she’d seen in books. Small horns protruded through his curly hair, and his legs resembled a goat’s, angled backward and ending in the same kind of split hooves. A set of pan pipes dangled from a strip of leather tied around his neck.

“It’s the goblin’s fault,” grumbled Leadless. “He wasn’t doing his job.”

“That may be so, but it’s your responsibility to keep out …” The satyr’s voice trailed off when a swarm of twinkling lights darted out of the forest to flutter around him. They must have said something, because he stopped to listen, then glanced at Tamisin. “Well, I’ll be …,” he said. Reaching for his pan pipes, he played a short melody. A moment later another tune answered his from somewhere in the forest. “You may pass,” the satyr told Tamisin. “But the goblin has to stay here.”

“You mean me?” Bruno asked, scratching his head.

“No,” said Jak. “He means me.”

“Why are you letting her go?” said the gnome. “You know the rules. No unexpected guests without official business may pass unless—”

“The girl is expected,” said the satyr. “If you’d wear your spectacles, you’d understand why.”

“What do my spectacles have to do with anything?” the gnome asked even as he set them on his nose. “The girl is just … Oh, my!” he said, and his ruddy cheeks turned even redder.

“But I don’t want to go without Jak,” protested Tamisin.

“Go ahead,” Jak said. “I’ll wait right here.”

The satyr gestured to Tamisin. “The fairies will take you where you need to go.”

“Where is that?” Tamisin asked as the twinkling lights surrounded her.

“To talk to Titania, of course,” said the satyr. “Isn’t that who you came to see? Now go! Go! We’ll watch your goblin!”

Although Tamisin didn’t like going into the fairy forest without Jak, the fairies didn’t give her time to think about it. Darting from tree to tree, they moved so quickly that she had to run to keep up. At first all she could see of them were bright lights the size of fireflies, but the deeper they led her into the forest, the darker it became and the better she could see the tiny beings. Soon she was able to discern individual clothes and faces. Their wings were still a blur, however, and it hurt her eyes to look at them because they seemed to be the source of the fairies’ light.

At first they didn’t encounter anyone, but after many twists and turns they saw a water nymph rearranging pond lilies in a small lake. Another turn in the path and
Tamisin saw a woman with brown skin and hair like willow leaves conversing with a birch tree. Then a pale nymph with leafy hair leaned out of the tree and turned to watch her.

Still following the fairies, Tamisin saw one amazing creature after another. She saw goblins who looked like birds and animals cooking food over fires. A woman with pure white skin, fiery red eyes, and a wild halo of white hair was making daisy chains beside an enormous woman with two heads. Fairies as big as humans tended flowers, mended clothes, and collected fallen leaves. Although Tamisin tried not to stare, everyone stared at her as if
she
were something extraordinary.

The farther they went into the forest, the prettier it became. Huge shade trees towered over a profusion of their smaller cousins, which in turn stood guard over such a variety of shrubs and flowers that Tamisin was amazed. Everything that could bloom seemed to be doing so at once, filling the air with a heavy perfume.

Tamisin was rounding an enormous group of rhododendrons covered in purplish-pink blossoms when Tobi, head down and muttering to himself, ran into her. The little goblin stumbled and fell flat on his back. Tamisin reached down to help him, but he brushed off her hand, declaring in an annoyed voice that people should watch where they’re going. And then he looked at her face and his jaw dropped. “Tamisin!” he said even as his gaze darted from shrub to path to shrub again, as if looking for somewhere to hide. “Excuse, pardon, forgive me. I didn’t mean to run into ya like that.”

“Tobi!” said Tamisin. “What are you doing here? Did you come to see the queen?”

“Who? Me? Of course not! Why would the likes of me be visiting the queen, Her Majesty, Titania? No, I was just passing through, going by, in the neighborhood. Nothing to do with the queen. Sorry, I’ve, uh, got an important engagement, meeting, errand … Gotta run!” Tamisin stepped aside as Tobi scurried past, giving her one last furtive glance before disappearing behind the shrubs.

“I wonder what that was all about,” Tamisin murmured. “He seemed awfully nervous.”

Swooping around her in a brilliant, twinkling mass, the little fairies herded Tamisin into a mossy glade. She was halfway across before she saw the throne. Made of twisted branches still growing and in leaf, the back of the throne rose higher than her head and bore a crown of snow-white blossoms. Goblin and fairy women as well as a group of nymphs were gathered near it, fussing over the fairy standing serenely in their midst. While one brushed her golden hair with a nettle brush, others polished her nails with pink rose petals or held up dresses for her approval. She had turned away to stroke the sleeve of a misty gray dress when Tamisin approached.

“Why did you come back, Tobianthicus?” the fairy queen asked without looking up. “You already gave me your report.” It wasn’t until a group of Tamisin’s fairy escorts broke away, darting toward the queen in an agitated frenzy of twinkling lights, that Titania turned her head. Seeing Tamisin, Titania waved her hand, dismissing her attendants and the tiny fairies.

“Come closer, my dear,” the queen said in a voice as soft as a summer breeze and as sweet as the violets growing beneath her feet.

Tamisin approached the throne, drawn by her own curiosity as much as by the queen’s command. The fairy queen was the most beautiful person Tamisin had ever seen. Her skin was flawless, her features were delicate and well proportioned, and her hair cascaded down her back in a river of curls. Although she was truly lovely, it wasn’t her beauty that made Tamisin stop and stare.

Tamisin had been prepared for a lot of things when she met the fairy queen. She’d expected her to be beautiful, delicate, and otherworldly in ways she couldn’t even imagine. Although Titania was all of those things, what Tamisin didn’t expect was that looking at the fairy queen was a lot like looking at herself.

Like Tamisin, the queen had hair the color of sunlight and slightly tilted eyes of a brilliant turquoise. Although their noses were equally slim and straight, Tamisin’s mouth was fuller, her chin not quite so pointed. The two faces might have been copies of each other, only Tamisin’s was more substantial and … human.

“What … I mean, how …,” Tamisin began, pressing her hand to her cheek.

“Tobianthicus was right,” Titania said. “The resemblance is remarkable. I couldn’t deny who you are even if I’d wanted to. It’s odd though. I never expected to see you again, but now that you’re here I couldn’t be happier. Welcome home, Tamisin, my very own little girl.”