The Monsters of Stephen Enchanter (28 page)

The Jolly Executioner fell down dead.

The Fairy Queen looked down at the Jolly Executioner for one long moment, then flicked a hand, at once dismissing his presence and calling a guard to remove the unsightly body.

The Fairy Queen turned to the rest of the company.  They stared at her.  Fastest on the uptake, Letitia knelt to the floor, bowing her head and supplicating her hands.  Dubiously, the others followed.  “Your Majesty,” said Letitia, who had plenty of practice with this sort of abasement, “none of us have brought iron into your kingdom.  We were bound to that man there, and had no choice but to follow him.  But you have freed us, and we are bound to him no longer.  For this, we offer you our services.”

“I have already accepted them,” said the Fairy Queen with a strange smile.  “Have you not noticed my generous gifts?  Have you not looked upon each other and upon yourselves?  So long as I have your faithfulness and unwavering obedience, you will remain fair beyond the ken of man.”

“Your generosity is beyond all limits, Your Majesty!” cried Letitia.

“Not beyond all limits, no,” said she.  “Up to the limits of faithfulness and absolute obedience, and no further.  It shall fail, if you disobey me.”

“We shall never disobey you!”

“Good,” said the Fairy Queen.

“Are you going to kill us?” Youngster asked, finding his voice.  Stephen wished he hadn’t; the Fairy Queen didn’t need to be reminded of the possibility—and worse, might be offended.

“I might,” replied the Fairy Queen, sounding more pleased than otherwise, “when I tire of you.  But I find humans are terribly short-lived; you shall most likely wither and die of old age or walk where you shouldn’t and become food for my pets.”

“Your pets?” Youngster quavered.

“No more questions,” snapped the Fairy Queen.  “Get out—I have seen enough of you today!  No, wait a moment; first drink of this.”  She pulled a golden goblet out of thin air with a sound like silver clinking and the smell of tears.

Never eat or drink anything fairies give you, thought Stephen.  It gives them power over you.

But he didn’t see how he had any choice.

And if the Fairy Queen’s words were true, it was too late already.

Letitia took the goblet and drank swiftly from it, then passed it to Youngster who drank and passed it to Stephen.

The liquid inside the goblet was thick and golden and smelled of honeysuckle and snow.  It did not look poisonous, only intensely magical.

Stephen suddenly remembered the silver and iron manacles in his robes, hidden by layers of enchantments.  Letitia had lied, he realized.  There was iron in the company.  Iron that, if he touched it while drinking from the goblet—no; it was impossible; the Fairy Queen would see and touch his forehead and he would die as the Jolly Executioner had.

Here goes.

Stephen drank, and the golden liquid tasted of nothing at all.

He didn’t feel any different.  Had something changed within him?  How had the magic changed him?  Surely it must have done something.

He handed the goblet to Craggy who sniffed it, but did not drink.

“Is there something the matter, human?” the Fairy Queen demanded.  “Would you refuse this golden goblet of nectar and die as your leader did?”

“This isn’t nectar,” said Craggy; “it’s dirty water.  And your goblet is wooden.”

“Be quiet, Craggy,” Letitia hissed.  “Don’t insult her!  Drink from the goblet!”

“It isn’t water,” Stephen added in an undertone.  “It doesn’t taste like water, or like anything at all.”

“It won’t hurt you,” Youngster added, nervously glancing at the Fairy Queen.  “Please drink it, or you’ll get us all into trouble.”

Craggy wrinkled his nose and took a sip.  His face contorted as he forced himself to swallow.  Then he retched, unable to keep down the fairy drink.

“What’s wrong with you?” Letitia demanded.  “Drink it properly or I’ll shove it down your throat!”

“No,” said the Fairy Queen, “you won’t.”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean any insult—”

“You will be silent and not attempt explanation.  You will not force him to drink because I say you will not.  I have another purpose for him.”  Without any apparent signal, two more fairies came forward.  They hauled Craggy to his feet and dragged him from the room.  Craggy didn’t attempt to walk on his own; he was still dry heaving and convulsing and looking utterly wretched.

The Fairy Queen nodded to the other three.  “You have been good,” she said, as if they were dogs who had just performed a particularly clever trick.  “You may go now—no, not you, Enchanter.”

Stephen hesitated.  “Yes?”

“Look at me.”

Stephen looked up into her eyes.  They were so bright and green and alien.  They frightened him and yet—yet they were beautiful, too.  They weren’t
in
human, as he had initially thought; they were
super
human.  He knew that he was ugly, hideous, a disgusting worm next to the Fairy Queen.  No matter how handsome he thought himself, he would always be human, and that made all the difference.

The Fairy Queen was beautiful—was truly beautiful.  Surely, beauty like that deserved unswerving service.  The Fairy Queen was the most beautiful, perfect creature in the world; he could not deny it.  He swore to himself, and to the Fairy Queen, that he would never disobey her, never let any of the others disobey her, never disappoint her in any way.  He would slay his companions, or himself, or anyone else, for her sake.

I am bedazzled
, he thought, and was glad.

“Tell me, Enchanter, about your friend—the one whom you call Craggy.”

“Absolutely,” Stephen said readily.  “Anything you want to know—everything I know—is at your service.”

“Your friend,” said she, “sees things differently than the rest of you.”

“He certainly does!  Do you know, he thought we were in Faerie long before we actually were—before we had crossed the wall?  And he doesn’t have any eye for beauty—for the landscape or your gift.  I don’t think his eyes are weak—although I could be wrong—it’s his mind that is wrong.  Personally, I blame Chubblewooble.  Oh, right, that’s a town where—”

“I know of Chubblewooble.”

“Of course you do; of course—you have one of your fairy spies there, don’t you?  That explains why she wasn’t gathered outside the inn with the others . . . and why she wouldn’t want to be seen in public, because she doesn’t wear iron.  I wondered at the time, but not much.  I mean, she’s a very good spy, I’m sure.  But—oh, Craggy (right, you wanted to know about Craggy)—he went crazy that night, along with the rest of them.  Kept hitting his head against the wall.  Got a terrible concussion—and ‘permanent brain damage,’ Medic says—said—whatever that means—”

“That is enough.”

Stephen halted his eager words midsentence and waited on the tips of his toes, hoping for his next instruction.

“You have been helpful, Enchanter,” said the Fairy Queen, and Stephen practically melted at the praise.  Oh, great joy!  “Leave me.  Go and join your friends.  Warn them not to leave Faerie, or the Blue Lady shall be sent to deal with you.”

“I could never leave you, my queen!” cried Stephen.  “I can hardly bear the thought of being in a room where you are not!  But I shall sacrifice even myself, at my queen’s command!”  He bowed and scraped and bowed some more, retreating backward to the door and—painfully and regretfully—out.

“What did she want?” Youngster asked him.  “Did you discover where she took Craggy?”

“You didn’t betray us?” Letitia said sharply.  “I don’t know about you two, but I intend to survive this place—even if it’s at your expense.”

“Charming girl,” Youngster muttered.  “I suppose you’ve given some thought to escaping?”

“Escaping!  You don’t mean leave Faerie!”

“I most certainly do!  What else?  The Jolly Executioner is dead, his mission unfulfilled.  We’re useless here, and in danger.  We need to get back to Locklost to warn the king—and to tell him the fate of his youngest son.”

“We’re not leaving Faerie,” said Stephen.

“Look, I know the king isn’t that fond of enchanters—or of magic-users in general—but you’ve worked faithfully for the J.E., and the king’ll be fair.  I mean, he employs enchanters and battle-wizards of his own . . . maybe he’d employ you, too!  I bet it would pay well, and then you won’t have to travel around.  Imagine it: steady meals—”

“We are residents of Faerie, not Locklost,” said Stephen, “and you are speaking treason.  If you do not cease immediately, I shall return to our great queen—may she reign forever—and inform her.

“Have you gone mad?  Since when were you so fond of fairies?”

Letitia barked a laugh.  “Look at him!” she crowed.  “Look at his eyes—he’s been bedazzled!  Hoisted on his own petard!”

“You’re right that I’ve been bedazzled,” Stephen admitted cheerfully, “and I fully intend to remain that way.  Now, what do you say we find a guide and do some exploring?  Personally, I’m starving; I haven’t had a decent meal since . . . since we were in Robin’s Woods.”

“For once,” said Letitia, “the enchanter talks sense.  We won’t do any good starving ourselves.”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” said Youngster, “since we’ve already consumed that liquid; I’d bet that counts as fairy food, and once we’ve started, why stop?”

“It certainly was wonderful stuff,” Stephen sighed.  “But then, I wouldn’t expect anything less from the indomitably hospitable Fairy Queen.”

Stephen wandered in a daze.  Some part of him knew that the other two were with him, but he didn’t care.  He knew everything around him was exceedingly beautiful, but he hardly gave it a second glance.  His mind was filled with the glory of the Fairy Queen.

Sometime later, when the image of the Fairy Queen in his mind had dulled enough for him to see past it, Stephen found himself sitting with Youngster and a strange fairy.

“Where’s Letitia?” he asked.

“Welcome back,” said Youngster.  “I knew you wouldn’t be gone for good.”

“Gone?  Nonsense!  I was deep in thought.  I am an enchanter, you know.  But Letitia, it seems, is gone.  Where is she?”

Youngster shrugged.  “I don’t think she’s interested in being a member of this company anymore,” he said.

“What company?” Stephen replied.  “There is no company anymore.  There are only four of us, and we were only a company so long as we were under the power of the Jolly Executioner and his most detestable kingdom.”

“Yes, but not all of us were forced in.  Put it this way: Letitia’s not interested in being friends with us anymore, or with spending any time around us.  I think she returned to her rooms to admire herself in the mirror.  I never knew she was so vain—or maybe I did, but I never saw it demonstrated so clearly before.”

“She has reason to be vain,” said Stephen, “thanks to the Fairy Queen’s gift.  Apart from that, she has no reason.  Apart from that, there can be no reason.”

“I’m sure she’d be thrilled to hear you say that,” Youngster replied wryly.  He turned to the fairy on his left.  “Is he going to be like this forever?  He’s so . . . wet and floppy.  Why does the bedazzlement affect him?  I thought enchanters were immune.”

“No one has ever broken one of the Fairy Queen’s bedazzlements,” said the fairy.  “She is far too strong.  To break the bedazzlement, one would need to know her true name—and the Fairy Queen has none.”

“That’s not quite true,” said Stephen, thinking of the manacles.  “I know another way to break the bedazzlement.  I could break it now, if I wanted to; it’d be easy.”