Bloody Fairies (Shadow) (3 page)

“Leave us.” Pierus never took his eyes off her.

Relief made Hippy’s knees weak. She went to move, but he didn’t let go of her. “Not you.”

Hippy gulped. Flower and Nikifor left the tent without another word.

Pierus steered her to a low-slung chair covered in furs and unceremoniously dropped her into it. Then he went over to a table and poured two glasses of pink wine from a tall, slim bottle.

Hippy watched his every move. She cautiously accepted the glass when he came back and sat across from her.

Pierus fixed her with a stern look. “Why were you hiding from your sister?”

“I-” Hippy looked away. She clutched her glass. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”  

“I just can’t.”

“Have a drink, my dear.”

Hippy obediently gulped a mouthful of wine. It was very nice and sweet and it made her feel more relaxed.

“I need to know what you were doing behind that curtain,” Pierus said. “If you won’t tell me why you were hiding from your sister, I’m going to start thinking you’re a spy.”

“I’m not a spy!” Hippy flushed a deep crimson. “It’s just–I mean–”

“Just tell me.”

“I’m scared of blood,” Hippy burst out. “It’s horrible, it makes me want to throw up and I can’t think or move and Ishtar knows, so every time we kill a vamp she stabs them and you know how much blood that means, and tonight she smeared it all over her face and chased me.” She closed her mouth abruptly, mortified.

Pierus went bright red. Then he went white. His lips trembled. He snorted. Then he burst into gales of laughter. 

Hippy folded her arms and glared. “It’s not funny!”

“I know my dear, it’s just–you Bloody Fairies–” he leaned back in his chair and grinned at her like she’d grown a second head and told a joke with it.

Hippy got to her feet, cheeks flaming. “Don’t you dare tell anyone!” She burst into tears and ran for the door.

For a three thousand year old muse, Pierus was fast. He made it there first and barred the way. Laughter lines still creased the corners of his eyes, but he was serious again. “Not so fast there, I haven’t finished with you yet. Oh, are you crying?” He thrust a handkerchief at her. “Do stop.”

Hippy slouched back to the chair and sank into it. She dried her face with the handkerchief and took another gulp of the wine. There, she felt better again.

Pierus resumed his seat.

She sniffed. “What? What else do you want, now you’ve had a good laugh at my expense?”

“I apologise, my dear.”

He said it so seriously Hippy felt mollified. “I’m sorry I hid in your tent,” she said. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Why did you go behind that curtain?”

She shifted in her chair. “I heard someone coming, it seemed like the best place to hide.”

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “And what did you see there?”

“I don’t know. It was kind of a rip or something. What was it?”

“If I tell you, you must swear to me to keep it a secret.” He frowned. “Fairies are not very good at keeping secrets, in my experience.”

“I won’t tell a soul,” Hippy said. “Honest, and if I did they wouldn’t believe me anyway. Ishtar wouldn’t even believe me when I told her I met you. I swear you can trust me.”

“Indeed.” He regarded her intently. “What you saw behind the curtain is a rip in the fabric of Shadow. It is effectively a doorway into the world of Dream.”

Hippy’s eyes grew bigger than ever. “Dream?” she whispered. “Really?
Where the humans live?”

“Really.” He moved closer. All Hippy could see now was his eyes. “I must go on a journey into Dream to seek out an ancient treasure. It is our only hope of defeating the vampires and driving them back into the
Darkness where they belong. If we allow the vampires to overrun us, Shadow will be lost.”

Hippy stared. “When do you go?”

“Very soon,” he said. “But perhaps you’re wondering why I haven’t gone already, when we know an attack is imminent.”

“Not really,” Hippy said. “I mean, yes.”

“I cannot find this treasure alone. I need a descendant of the treasure’s first guardian.”

“What does that mean?”

“I asked myself that same question for many, many years. And only now, when I found you hiding behind my curtain, did I figure it out. I need you.”

“Me?” Hippy’s mouth fell open. She quickly closed it.

“Yes my dear, you. A fairy. A fairy who is willing to go on a quest with a muse to help save Shadow.”

“But–but I–” Hippy put a hand to her head. There was no way. Mum and Dad would never allow it. The elders would be intractable. She’d risk banishment at the very suggestion. But to go away with the muse king, hunting for a treasure? Ishtar would never laugh at her again.

“Perhaps you need some time to think it over,” he said. “You seem unsure.”

“I want to do it more than anything,” Hippy burst out. “But the elders will never allow it.”

Pierus gave her a thin smile and patted her hand. “You just leave the elders to me, my dear.”

CHAPTER THREE

The spiked fortifications of the fairy camp brooded like black teeth against a blacker sky. Nikifor and Flower each carried a smoky gas lamp on the end of a tall pole, shedding a cold blue light the sentries would see a mile off. Hippy dug her nails into her palms and chewed on her lower lip. Never mind how bad it looked being escorted home by not one, but three muses. She would not let Pierus know how much trouble he was going to get her in. No way. He was the first person to ever ask her to do something real.

“Hey!” A muscular fairy with a blood-smeared face barred their way when they approached the gates of the fairy camp. “You can’t come in here!”

Hippy sighed. “It’s me, Ishtar,” she said.

“Oh, well you can come in. You other three get lost!” Ishtar shook her spear at them.

Pierus sniffed. “Who is this?”

Suddenly, the whole night was worth it. “Ishtar Ishtar, meet Pierus, King of the Muses,” Hippy said.

Ishtar dropped her spear. She cursed and dived for it.

“Give me a moment, my dear.” Pierus patted Hippy on the shoulder and then strode over to Ishtar.

She glared up at him. “You’re not my king.”

Pierus put an arm around Ishtar’s shoulder and drew her away from the light. He bent down to speak to her. Hippy couldn’t hear what he said, but he came back alone. “Come along,” he said, and they all started walking again. “I don’t think your sister will be giving you any more trouble,” he added in an undertone.

Hippy grinned at her feet. She felt foolishly, dizzyingly, absurdly happy.

The gates swung open to admit them. Hippy took a deep breath. Time to face the music. Oh, hell. The elders were already waiting, arms folded, scowls on. Behind them lurked Ishtar and all eight of her brothers, spears planted at their sides. Flaming torches tied to the walls overhead cast leaping, chaotic lights over everyone’s faces.

Leaf Ishtar strode forward. His grey-streaked black dreadlocks, each decorated with the claw of something that had left him with a few choice scars when he killed it, hung over his shoulders like snakes. He curled his hand around Hippy’s sleeve, jerked her away from Pierus and hustled her back to stand with the elders. Only then did he deign to speak to Pierus. “Thanks,” he said. “You can go now.”

Pierus raised an overhanging eyebrow and looked at Leaf down the length of his hooked nose. Then he turned to leave.

Hippy almost squeaked in dismay. He wasn’t going to ask!

Pierus turned back. “Oh,” he said. “I’ll need her back the day after tomorrow.”

Leaf was so shocked he let go of Hippy’s sleeve. His voice was deadly stern. “What do you mean, you’ll need her back? What do you want with my daughter?”

“She’s to assist me on a secret mission.” Pierus’s voice echoed through the deathly silent camp.

“What secret mission?”

“If I told you that it wouldn’t be a secret.”

“Look, Muse.” Leaf took a step forward, fists balled. “I don’t care if you’re the king or a vamp’s bootlace, my daughter’s not going anywhere with the likes of you!”

This was going about as well as she’d expected. Hippy sidled away from her father, but she didn’t get far. Her eldest brother’s hand landed on her shoulder and kept her in place.

“Naturally that’s entirely up to you,” Pierus said. “But I should warn you, if she does not accompany me on this very dangerous mission, you’re all quite sure to lose the war.”

There was another silence. Score. Hippy’s eyes widened. Pierus really did know how to deal with the elders.

“Well why her?” Leaf gestured at Hippy. “She was dropped on her head as a kid, she’s no good for anything except throwing fairy dust.”

Hippy clenched her teeth and balled her fists. One of these days-

Pierus’s lazy words rolled around the camp. “I should think that reflects more on your parenting skills than her current capabilities. Hippy, I will expect you at sunrise, day after tomorrow. Don’t be late.”  His coat flared out when he spun on his heel and strode away, trailed by Flower and Nikifor.

The gates closed after them. All the fairies stared. Hippy couldn’t get the big stupid grin off her face.

Hippy sat alone on a bench, her back to the bonfire that always burned in the fairy camp through the night. She folded her hands in her lap and refused to look up from them. Her brothers and Ishtar jostled around them for the best seats. Her mother stood to one side, glaring. Everyone else, from the pint-sized children to the warrior mothers, the giggling teens to the old women, watched from the shadows. There was even a whole family of Feathertips from the next village here tonight, who would no doubt go home and blab all about her.

It was the singular most excruciating moment of her life. If only somebody would say something.

Her father finally broke the silence. “You’re not going.”

Hippy scowled. “Am too.”

“Tell us what the mission is,” one of the elders said.

“Can’t.” Hippy folded her arms. “I promised.”

“Then how do we know he’s not leading you into mischief?” demanded her mother.

“You just have to trust me.”

“Trust you?” her father snorted. “You’re just a ditsy little girl who’s not right in the head. You’re hardly even a proper fairy, and all this consorting with muses just proves it!”

“How do you know you can trust him?” one of her brothers said.

Hippy straightened. “He’s the muse king! Who else should we trust?”

There was a smattering of derisive laughter.

“You can’t trust any muse, least of all the king,” an elder said.

“How would you know, when you never even talk to them?” Hippy shot back. “I don’t know why you have to be so rude to them, what would we do if they weren’t helping us?”

“They have to help us, it’s their fault the vampires are even here!”

“What?”

Leaf snorted and raked dreadlocks from his face. “You think the muses are good, hardworking, decent people? Do you think they’re handsome? Kind?”

“Flower’s never been anything but kind to us,” Hippy said.

Leaf waved a hand as though that were of no consequence. “We tolerate Flower,” he said. “We don’t tolerate any other muse. They are responsible for every vamp that attacks us. Why?” He leaned forward and shook a finger at her. “Because they created them. Every single one. They have free rein to inspire anything in those good for nothing artists and writers in the world of Dream. No rules, no boundaries, that’s how they work. And we’re the ones that get left with veiny, big-toothed bloodsuckers on our doorstep!”

Hippy shuddered. “But we wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for them! Didn’t they inspire us into existence too?”

“That’s still up for debate!” Leaf yelled.

“And didn’t they carve out a place in Shadow for us to live?”

“She’s already spent too much time with them,” an elder declared.

“Stop arguing and listen, girl!” Leaf’s dreadlocks quivered under the force of the words. “That muse king is the worst of all of them! The things he’s done-”

Hippy looked pointedly away. “What’s he done that’s so bad then?”

Apparently, they’d all been waiting for this question. More fairies gathered in around the elders and sat on the ground in expectant silence. Hippy would have groaned under her breath if she’d dared.

Leaf cleared his throat. His mouth settled in a smug line. “Oh, he’s done plenty,” he said. “Ten thousand years is a long time to get up to mischief.”

“Three thousand,” Hippy corrected.

“Quiet you,” an elder snapped.

Hippy stuck out her tongue at him.

“Back in what they called the Middle Ages, the humans in Dream did a lot of fighting.” Leaf settled himself more comfortably in his seat, got out his pipe and lit it.

Ishtar, who was at his feet, sat up straighter. “I like fighting.”

Leaf chuckled. “So did the humans. But they got so busy fighting each other they created nothing for a long time. They were all either fighting, or dying, or being miserable. They had no cause and nothing to live for–and the muses were getting bored, because no matter how hard they tried, the humans were blind to inspiration. Now this course of events would no doubt have sorted itself out, these things always do. But the muse king, he decided to interfere. He broke the rules and crossed into Dream.”

Hippy jerked to attention. “Why? What did he do there?”

Leaf smirked. “He stirred up the humans. Messed with their politics. Next thing you know it was no longer peasants fighting their rulers and each other, it was religion fighting religion. That got the muses going and the artists, too. Simple creatures, humans. Give them a cause and they’ll paint, they’ll write, they’ll bleed and they’ll die for it.”

“So he did a good thing,” Hippy said.

“Will you stop interrupting!” Leaf took a long draw on his pipe. “That was only the beginning, see. You won’t hear this from a muse, because they all think the sun shines out of his nostrils, but the fairies, we watched him.”

“We weren’t alive,” Hippy objected.

“Your father’s fathers were. And their father’s fathers, and their father’s fathers-”

“Oh and I suppose the mothers were just standing about doing nothing?” Willow interrupted. “It wasn’t all the men, you know.”

“Quiet, woman!” Leaf clenched his teeth over his pipe. “I happen to know good and well the women were too busy having their little wars to do any watching. As I was saying, the fairies kept an eye on Pierus. We saw that he wasn’t quite right.” He tapped his head. “While the other muses went about their business, he went off and disappeared for years on end. Came back more loony every time, raving about clocks, or frogs, or steam engines. And things got steadily worse in Dream, too. More wars. More chaos. Giant machines that poured smoke and filth into their water and their sky. And you know what that meant?”

A cricket chirped in the silence.

“More horrors for Shadow,” Leaf said. “The worse things got in Dream, the more awful they got here. The vamps got crankier. The werewolves got bigger. Even the bearflies bit harder.”

“We haven’t been on a bearfly hunt in ages,” Ishtar said.

“There’s no such thing as werewolves,” Willow cut in.

“Quiet! I’m telling the story, aren’t I?” Leaf took a long draw of his pipe. His face grew grim. “Then came the worst thing of all. Pierus began to inspire a certain scientist who should have been left to his own devices. Dangerous men, scientists.”

“And women,” Willow interjected.

“Thanks to Pierus, this scientist invented a bomb.” Leaf’s words were so low everyone had to inch closer to hear him. “When they built this bomb and used it, millions of humans were killed in one single moment. The land was poisoned and diseased for generations. Then the humans took this invention and used it, again and again, even though they knew the dangers. Parts of Dream became so toxic that once again we suffered here in Shadow. Nobody knows if the poison seeped through a doorway left open by the king, or if it was just another echo from Dream, but a whole village of Fire Elves near the borders got sick. One of your Feathertip aunties went to help them. Don’t know why.”

“Because she was more interested in medicine than assassination is why,” Willow said.

Leaf grunted. “She should’ve stuck to assassination, that’s what the Feathertips are good at. She came back looking like a skeleton and said the Fire Elves died screaming. Nothing she could do.  Then she died screaming too.” He eyeballed Hippy. “The muse king visited that nightmare on Dream and on Shadow because he was bored. Is that the kind of man you want to trust?”

Hippy’s eyes were like saucers. She put her hands over her face. “It’s not true.”

“It is true.” Leaf’s voice was stern. “And you’ll do well to remember that’s
why no fairy consorts with a muse. Pierus, muse king, is no better than Rustam Badora himself.”

Silence descended at the sound of the vampire king’s name. Fairies shuffled off to their homes and beds. Nobody was in any mood to hear more stories. Gossip about Pierus might be juicy, but the mere mention of Rustam Badora was enough to send a fairy into a growling, frightened rage.