The Clockwork Fairy Kingdom (11 page)

“If there’s anything you need, anything at all that we can
do to help, let us know,”
Gaurung
said earnestly.

Adele beamed at them. Maybe their two kingdoms could form an
alliance. Together, they’d defeat all the humans in the New World, then return
to the Old Country and do it again.

***

Robert watched the final race, his heart beating so loudly
he thought everyone could hear it. It had been a small bet, but it had paid out
big. He backed slowly out of the group of men standing around the big flat
screen TV in the living room and went over to the “cages”—really just a
closet under the stairs. The old man behind the wooden bars grinned at him,
nodding his balding head and sucking at his dentures. “Good luck today. Really
good luck.” He counted out the money once, handing it to his unseen partner,
who counted it again before sending it out the small hole in the door to
Robert.

The money felt hot in Robert’s hands. He fanned out the
bills for a moment before he remembered where he was. He folded them up and
tucked them into three different pockets, throwing looks over his shoulder, up
the long, dark staircase. The big bosses sat up there. He didn’t want to be
called upstairs, not ever.

Robert made it outside without being stopped; then he
paused, fighting with himself. He wanted to make another bet—
needed
it. However, he knew that if he
went back in, he wouldn’t leave until every penny was gone. He’d made it out,
now he needed to keep walking. He still heard the TVs inside blaring the scores.
He didn’t let himself turn around. Large, smelly dumpsters hulked next to the
buildings. Robert cautiously made his way between them, only breathing freely
when he’d reached the sidewalk.

Clueless tourists paraded up and down Main Street, oohing
and
ahhing
over “local” crafts clearly made in China.
Dour fishermen sold boat tours, mainly by growling at people. Perkier operators
also tried to separate the masses from their money, offering bikes for rent,
kites for sale, and cheap plastic beach-gear.

Robert went to one of the big national fast food chains,
certain that Chris wouldn’t surprise him there. It wasn’t the sort of
establishment a “gentleman” frequented. After getting his greasy fries and
watery shake, Robert took advantage of the free
WiFi
and AC and started making calls. He finally had the money he needed to finance
his misdirection of Chris.

It took Robert most of the afternoon to wire money, email
photos, buy software for his phone, and make copies of his tapes and notes. He
set up a
deadman’s
clause for everything: If anything
happened to him, the files went to the police. Not that he thought Chris would
set out to kill him. However, Chris was clearly a passionate man with a
righteous anger—Robert had gotten between him and his, and men had killed
for less.

Finally, after making all his arrangements, Robert called
Chris.

“Robert, you son of a—”

“You’ll never find your family without my help,” Robert told
Chris firmly, his hands already shaking. He brushed the sweat off his palms,
rubbing them down his thighs, first with one hand, then the other. In the
background, he heard a perky worker ask a new customer about upgrading their
order.

“I’ll find them on my own,” Chris said.

“No, you won’t. I told Denise you were here. She’s already
moved the kids.”

“How did you find her already, if she’s moved?”

Robert easily imagined Chris’ face growing red with rage. “She
moved to the city I suggested. I helped her get new names, too. First and last.”

Chris didn’t reply right away. Robert listened to the
silence on the phone coming in one ear, while endless calls for burgers and
fries came in the other.

“What do you want?” Chris asked heavily.

Robert knew better than to think he’d won. “Double my fee.
In cash.”

“Now see here—”

“No. You see here. You can either pay me and be guaranteed
success, or you can find another PI. Who may be more of a crook than me. Who
may have better connections than I do, and who will go after you when you don’t
pay him. Your choice.”

In the silence, Robert could hear his own heart beating
fast. This was the tipping point, where Chris either jumped onto Robert’s train
or off of it.

“How did they move so quickly?” Chris asked.

Robert gave a silent, relieved sigh. “Your wife’s an
organized little thing. I suspect she never unpacked her bags.”

Chris grunted. “I still want proof that you aren’t just
jerking me around. Lying to me, like how you did about my boy’s last day of
school.”

“Fine. I’ll email you more pictures. In the morning,” Robert
added, aiming to sound petulant.

“Just asking you to do your job, son,” Chris said,
magnanimous now.

Robert shook his head. Conversations could be just like a
game. The problem was that the stakes were high this time. He said goodbye,
then had to stab the screen more than once to hang up. After he wiped his
sweaty hands off on his thighs again, he checked the application running in the
background. When the map showed up, with a bright red pin, more relief cascaded
down Robert’s shoulders. It had been worth every penny, just to know where
Chris was—and now he had a way to track him.

The urge to celebrate by placing another bet sank deep hooks
into Robert when he stood up. He swayed and grabbed the red plastic bench. He
would have thought the adrenaline rush of dealing with Chris would have
scratched his itch, but no, he just wanted more.

However, Robert resisted and made himself go back to his
hotel instead. He told himself he could bet more in the morning. He bribed
himself with an evening with the papers, checking all the games and scores and
coming up with a complete schedule of things to bet on for the next day.

In the morning, Robert waited outside Chris’ hotel. He hadn’t
disguised his car. He hoped that Chris would be in too much of a hurry to see
him.

Robert’s luck appeared to be holding. Chris’ car screamed
out of the parking lot and turned left, heading straight for the highway. Just
to be sure, Robert tailed him from a block away. He didn’t start to breathe
easier until Chris was five miles down the road.

The photos Robert had sent Chris
had
been
Photoshopped
this time. Robert’s
friend had deliberately included well-known landmarks from a nearby city,
things even Chris couldn’t miss.

Robert turned his car back toward town. Chris wouldn’t
return until he’d figured out he’d been tricked. All Robert had done was to buy
them some time: time for Denise to file those papers, and maybe to actually
move, as well.

***

Adele sat at her dressing table, looking in the mirror and
putting on her “pretty” face, the mask she wore when attending court. She
applied powders to her nose to make it smaller, then only highlighted the
center of her mouth, to make it more ladylike. Like the other royals, she wore
her hair restrained, pulled back tightly away from her face. A small brimless
hat pinned to the side topped it off.

Though Clarissa, Adele’s maid, stood at least a head shorter
than Adele, she still fiercely disagreed with her lady that she was finished. “That
dress needs more pressing,” she said, looking critically at the sleeves that
puffed out from Adele’s shoulders, then slimmed down tightly to hug her
forearms. “The skirt as well,” she said, clucking her tongue.

“It will be fine,” Adele said, dismissively.

Clarissa stood her ground, not moving out of the way when
Adele turned toward the door. “Not today,” she said firmly.

Adele sighed with exasperation. “Go ahead,” she said,
standing still while Clarissa moved her hands over Adele’s outfit,
straightening out wrinkles only she could see, then pressing sections of the
skirt together with her fingers to give it more pleats.

It occurred to Adele that Clarissa was being extra careful
that morning preparing her mistress for court. “What’s wrong? What have you
heard?” Adele asked.

Clarissa shrugged and looked uncomfortable. “Nothing,” she
said, not meeting Adele’s eye. “Just—a feeling around the court. Like a
storm’s brewing. I know at least three of the livery who have begged off work
these last two days. Other servants have found odd jobs in attics and
closed-off halls, well away from everyone.”

“You’re still here,” Adele commented.

Clarissa finally looked up, then deliberately grinned. “My
father was a warrior. And you’re better than all of ’
em
.”

Adele nodded slowly. Clarissa’s mixed blood wasn’t obvious.
Adele had noticed it early on but had never commented on it. However, it was
one of the reasons why Clarissa was still with her. “I’ll do us proud,” she
promised her maid.

As Adele walked to the summer council rooms, she realized
how isolated she was. No one walked down the long corridors with her, still
decorated with endless portraits. Even her best friend didn’t know her plans.
The only one who believed in her was a servant.

The gaping hole of Thaddeus’ death overwhelmed Adele
suddenly. Her breath caught and tears threatened. She could do this without
him, she
would
, but the air grew
viscous, making it harder to walk, and the lights dimmed.

Adele would never stop mourning him. But she had to put her
sorrow away for now. Battle awaited, and it was a war, no matter how genteel.

Most of the court had already assembled by the time Adele
reached the counsel room. When she crossed the threshold, she released a dozen
will-o’-the-wisps up to the corners of the ceiling, adding much-needed light.
Though they lived underground, it didn’t have to feel like they always met at
night. The maroon and midnight-blue walls glowed darkly between the white-and-gold
columns. Clusters of royals looked up at her entrance, some guiltily, others
not. Adele made the long walk from the door to the dais with her head held
high, her wings partially expanded, taking up more room.

The first thing Adele noticed was that no servants attended
any of the lords or ladies. She surveyed the room from her curved, white,
backless throne. Her biggest supporters—the temple priests—weren’t
there either.

“What business have we today?” Adele asked, keeping her
voice pleasant. “Gentlemen? Ladies?”

Gideon stepped forward. Like the other royals, he was very
tall and his wings were very large. He was also thinner than a starved sapling;
fashion these days labeled it
willowy
,
but Adele always called it
weak
. “Queen
Adele,” he said, bowing slightly. “If I may address the court?”

Adele inclined her head, letting him proceed.

“We are curious why you deemed it appropriate to bring a
human into the kingdom—indeed, into the depths of this palace itself,”
Gideon said. “We’ve all sacrificed so much for that machine of yours. Why bring
in a human and endanger it?”

Before Gideon could continue, Adele replied. “The great
machinery my beloved Thaddeus had been working on was unfinished at his
untimely death. While he has many trained apprentices, none of them has been
able to complete it. This boy—and yes, for all his great height, he is
still a boy—has great potential. He understands the flow of machinery
instinctively. He will be able to finish Thaddeus’ greatest work and make all
your sacrifices worthwhile.”

“Preposterous,” Gideon said, puffing himself up as he strode
forward. “Why do you persist in this belief that your own people couldn’t do
this work? Why did you not at least consult your court before taking this
drastic step?”

“Drastic?” Adele shot back. “What are you accusing me of? I
would never endanger my kingdom or any of you. He was fully enthralled before I
brought him down here. He gave me his name when we first met. He’s unable to
harm us—or even speak of us. I made sure of that.”

“What of the dwarf?” Gideon challenged. “The human was seen
defending him.”

“No, not him,” Adele said. Who had Gideon been talking with?
Which warrior would risk the rage of his fellows to talk out of turn like that?
“His sister. A Maker.”

Adele realized her mistake immediately. The court grumbled
and whispered. Gideon just nodded; he already knew.

“What happens when she tries to free him?” Cornelius asked.

“I will persuade her that it’s better to be a part of us,
instead of against us,” Adele told them. “Or she’ll die by my hand.”

“You see?” Gideon said, no longer addressing Adele, but the
rest of the court. “The queen no longer consults us on things of importance.
She merely carries out her will, not the will of the court or the people.”

“The death of a human is a thing of great importance?” Adele
sneered. The royals really had grown soft.

“No, but the corruption of a Maker is,” Cornelius said
quietly.

A flush of shame washed over Adele. Cornelius was right.

“If it goes wrong, or she turns against us later, she could
destroy us,” Imogene said, dramatically shuddering.

“But—” Adele interrupted herself. The Maker wouldn’t
matter once the machine was turned on. However, Adele couldn’t tell the court
that. They still didn’t know the truth of the great machine. “I see,” Adele
finally replied, quietly. “Then how would my court advise me to continue?” she
asked, carefully hiding any petulance from her tone.

“I can see to the boy,” Cornelius volunteered. “I will
continue his training. And his enthrallment.”

Slowly, Adele nodded. “You may see him, and work with him.
As long as you don’t hinder him,” she cautioned. She’d always trusted
Cornelius.

“And the Maker?” Gideon asked.

“I’ve already strengthened the northern portal, so she won’t
be able to enter there,” Adele told them. Most of the court looked pleased at
that; only Gideon and Imogene didn’t. “I will speak to her, outside the
kingdom, to determine her disposition.”

“Then report back to us,” Gideon instructed.

“Yes,” Adele told him deliberately, showing him her warrior
teeth. “Because I listen to you.”

Gideon, Cornelius, and a few others looked offended;
however, Adele knew she was right. That was the real reason for this
confrontation: The royals didn’t trust her warrior nature. So she would listen
to them, carefully, completely, until she didn’t need to anymore. Until her
people regained their rightful strength and rose behind her.

***

Dale enjoyed watching the movie, sitting on the floor beside
Nora, leaning back against the couch, sharing popcorn in the dark. It seemed
normal and real. They hadn’t done this often—it was a new treat they’d
discovered once they’d moved here. Yet, when his mom turned on the lamp and
Nora stood up to stretch, a wave of nostalgia and longing crashed over Dale. As
he said good night, he felt as though he was saying goodbye...not to his mom or
his sister, but to his childhood and simple delights.

Nora followed Dale into his room, still licking her greasy
fingers instead of using a napkin like a civilized person. “So what was she
like? What was the kingdom like? Spill,” she directed as she hopped up onto his
bed.

Dale eagerly turned to tell her. He opened his
mouth—then closed it again when he realized no words would come out. He
reached into his pocket and ran his fingers over the cool amethyst Queen Adele
had given him just as he’d left. “To keep you safe,” she’d said. The smooth
edges soothed and distracted Dale.

“Come on!” Nora prodded.

Dale sighed and shook his head, taking his hand out of his
pocket. “She’s a fairy, right? She sounds like she’s from England. All proper.
And she dresses like a queen. The kingdom—” Dale again found himself with
a disturbing lack of words.

“Okay, was it big or small?”

“Both,” Dale said, frustrated. “They’re only about half our
size, you know. But there are a lot of them.” He saw the kingdom again, spread
out in the valley before him.

“It’s underground?”

“Yes,” Dale said, forcing the word out.

“So what was the palace like?”

“You know. A palace,” Dale answered awkwardly. He considered
mentioning that he was having difficulty talking about it, but dismissed it. It
was fairy stuff. That made it inherently difficult to describe. “I didn’t see
much of the palace,” he finally said. “Just the Master Tinker’s workshop.”

“Cool! What was that like?”

To his great relief, Dale found he could describe the
workbenches and all the specialized tools, the amazingly thin but resilient
wire the fairies manufactured, and the multitude of gears that covered the
walls. Dale didn’t try to talk about the machine itself. Queen Adele had asked for
his silence on that. He wouldn’t break his word to her, even if he could.

“So where’s
Kostya
?” Dale asked,
finally able to turn the interrogation away.