Trix & the Faerie Queen Page 12

  “I’m not worried about being bitten,” Lizinia said to the bear before realizing he probably wouldn’t understand a word. “Tell him I’m not worried,” she said to Trix.

  Vick popped out from behind Uncle Bear. “You might not be troubled by fangs, but you still need air to breathe, don’t you?”

  Lizinia took a step back from the large body. “Yes.”

  “A python’s hugs can be quite unyielding,” said Trix.

  “I didn’t intend to stop and introduce myself,” said Lizinia.

  Vick examined the milky scales and harrumphed. “Be wary at any rate. That’s the Lady Shahmaran. Her hugs are deadly enough when she’s in fey form. And if those don’t kill you, her scent will.”

  The pearlescent scales caught the magic light of the tooth and shimmered mesmerizingly. Trix hoped this meant the python had chosen to move along peacefully. He peeked around the corner to make sure this was the case.

  Lady Shahmaran stared back at him. The scales around those mythical eyes were much darker green, almost black. The ornate hood culminated in an orange-gold crown at the top of her viciously pointed head. Her tongue tasted the air before him, air that now smelled cloyingly of gardenias.

  “Trix Woodcutter…milady,” he said when he found his voice, though he couldn’t seem to speak much above a whisper. “We’re trying to find the Faerie Queen. Can you help us?”

  Lady Shahmaran did not have eyebrows to raise in her animal form, but Trix could tell that “we” and “us” caught her attention. Her magnificent head slipped past him to peer at the rest of his party. She stared down Uncle Bear, and then Lizinia, and then Vick with equal measure. At last, she returned to Trix.

  “SNAKE,” said Lady Shahmaran, and then her substantial body slipped like water into the darkness.

  “Did she speak to you?” Lizinia asked Trix.

  “What did she say?” asked Vick.

  “Nothing,” answered Trix. “She seemed to be aware of what she was, of her animal self, but she did not say anything helpful beyond that.”

  Vick elbowed him in the hip. “Powers getting a little rusty, eh, Prophecy Boy?”

  “Shame,” said Lizinia.

  Vick turned to the golden girl. “Yes. It’s a shame that Lady Shahmaran went along her merry way without killing us. Tragic, I tell you. Shall we get on with this?”

  The next hallway was brighter. Gem-studded wall sconces flowed seamlessly into the architecture, scattering multicolored light all around them. Trix was surprised that he hadn’t yet tripped over anything covering the floor, an intricate design of roots, moss, and grass. Gradually, the softer surface shifted to polished stone. Bear’s claws clicked along in the silence.

  Flowering plants grew up from the earth and flourished along the side of the hall, though there seemed to be no water source or opportunity for sunlight. Upon closer inspection, Trix realized that the leaves of the foliage sagged with wilt. A riot of petals blanketed the floor. Fey magic had been sustaining these plants. Without it, they would soon die.

  “Don’t go,” chirped the birds perched among the flowers.

  “Turn back,” they said. “Don’t go. Not here.”

  “Can you hear them?” Lizinia asked Trix.

  “Can’t you?” Vick asked sharply. The leprechaun covered his ears. “Chatterboxes. Give a body a headache with all that racket.”

  The staccato song saddened Trix’s heart. “They’re warning us away.” And yet, he still felt the pull of the Faerie Queen, stronger than ever, urging him on.

  “Wise birds,” said Lizinia.

  “Do you suppose we could eat them?” asked Vick.

  Trix ignored the leprechaun. He had heard birds in the Wood call for food, or warning, or mating, but rarely sadness, and never in such numbers. Such a feeling could only come from animals who had once been men and women. “These are people,” Trix told him.

  “They were people,” corrected Vick.

  “And they will be again,” Lizinia stated defiantly.

  Trix wanted to hug the birdfolk, to take them up in his arms and rescue them from whatever they felt was so frightening. He wanted to give them that safety he could not promise. “We’re on our way to fetch the Faerie Queen,” he said reassuringly.

  A red bird and a bluebird flew out of the brush and alighted upon Trix’s shoulders.

  “Trapped!” tweeted the red one.

  “Trapped!” tweeted the blue.

  Before long, the whole hallway rang out in a deafening chorus. “Traptraptraptraptraptraptrap!”

  “Can’t you shut them up?” Vick yelled at Trix.

  “Too late!” cried Lizinia.

  Beneath the birds’ chatter, a low hum resonated from the other end of the hall. An involuntary shiver swept through Trix. Now that he wasn’t sure when and where his next meal would come from, he recognized that sound. It was the sound of desperation. It was the sound of a hunger nothing could sate. It was the sound an empty stomach made when food was in sight.

  “It’s the Blood Court,” he whispered. There were only two ways out of this stretch of hallway: the way forward, and the way back.

  “How did they find us so fast?” asked Lizinia. “Did the birds tell them we were here?”

  Trix opened his mouth to tell her exactly what the birds had said, but Vick answered her question before Trix had a chance to speak. “It’s because we’re going back to the ballroom.”

  “What?” asked Trix.

  “Why?” asked Lizinia.

  Bear’s rumbling growl might have almost been a laugh.

  The leprechaun threw up his hands. “Because the secret stair is the best way to the catacombs.”

  “You didn’t think it wise to mention that before?” said Trix.

  “I didn’t think it mattered!” said Vick. “We have our costumes, and you were half prepared to run into them again anyway, weren’t you?”

  “We do,” Lizinia said, far more judiciously than Trix would have. “And we are. But it would have been nice to know anyway.”

  Vick shrugged and tugged on his berry-stained tunic. “In my line of work, I’ve learned not to trust anyone.”

  Bear smiled at the leprechaun, displaying rows of dangerous teeth. It did not exactly come across as the kind gesture Trix hoped it was.

  “Well,” said Lizinia, “I guess it’s time to see how well our disguises work.”

  Trix pulled his golden dagger from its sheath. “Judging by the sound of them, I don’t think they’ll be mistaking any of us for any of them.” Trix faced Bear and concentrated with all his might. “We need to get through them, Uncle.” He spoke slowly and evenly, to make sure his uncle had the greatest chance of understanding. Bear sniffed Trix’s hair and licked his face, sending the birds on his shoulders back into the air. With a snarl, he arched his back and barreled past them to the dark end of the hall.

  Lizinia followed with a battlecry that set Trix’s blood and feet running after her. Vick raced to keep up.

  Bear burst into the ballroom, knocking the Blood Court down like ninepins and clearing the path as he ran. The hindrance was only temporary, however—Trix turned back once to see the fallen men and women regain their footing and come after them again, hungry mouths agape and ruby red eyes shining from the shadows. More members of the Blood Court poured in from entrances all around the room—it seemed their number had doubled since that first encounter.

  The four of them made it halfway to the mirror before they were surrounded. Vick held his hammer high.

  “Don’t hurt them if you can,” Trix said to him. “It’s not their fault that they’ve become these monsters.”

  “Don’t be so naive, kid,” said Vick. “This whole situation is entirely their fault. They paid handsomely for the privilege. And if it comes down to them or me”—he swung the hammer in a neat arc—“I choose them.”

  “I choose me,” said Lizinia. She raised her bright arms above her head and spun herself away from the party. She might not have had a drop
of blood anywhere inside her, but that enormous glittering dress and all the shiny gold certainly drew the eyes of the Blood Court. Men and women came at her from all directions. They caught handfuls of her skirt and yanked until it shredded. A woman in a dark blue gown fell at Lizinia’s feet and rolled beneath her gown to trip her.

  It worked. Lizinia fell backward into a heap of pink skirt and two men jumped directly on top of her. The first one who attempted to take a bite of her howled in pain.

  “Serves you right!” yelled Vick.

  The one who hadn’t sampled Lizinia’s gold yet—a slender, black-haired man with a lace collar and vest full of decorative medals—turned to Vick and Trix. His eyes blazed even redder than before.

  “I think he’s figured it out,” said Vick.

  Bear moved to stand over Lizinia, shoving Court members out of the way and then threatening them with growls and sharp teeth if they dared try to approach again. Trix ran in to grab a golden hand and help her up. “Let’s get to the mirror,” he said. “Hurry!”

  Vick planted his hammer squarely in the kneecap of the rotund man who had been waiting for Trix and the ballroom filled with more howls.

  “You’re welcome,” said the leprechaun.

  Bear used his body to knock people out of the way, but there were too many of them. Lizinia took up the rear, pulling lords and ladies off of Vick and Trix when they got too close. She even punched a few of them. Saturday would be so proud. Vick continued to aim for kneecaps, where he could find them, and Trix used the pommel of his dagger to make his own punches more effective. It would have been easy to cut the Blood Court with his dagger—too easy—but he couldn’t bring himself to harm these poor, pitiful humans who’d been reduced to nothing but empty stomachs. Especially when he felt on the border of that very state himself.

  Just as they reached the mirror, the black-haired man with the medals slipped through their defenses. He caught Trix’s free arm and yanked it toward him. Lizinia grabbed the man by his dark hair and dragged him away, leaving deep scratches on the inside of Trix’s elbow.

  “The mirror!” yelled the leprechaun.

  Trix blinked and ran for the glass. Bear stopped short of the mirror but Trix flung himself at it, determined to pass right through its surface as easily as they had when they’d used the secret entrance to enter the ballroom. But he did not pass through. With a thud, Trix’s bottom hit the ground.

  “Doesn’t it work from this side?” asked Lizinia.

  “It’s magic,” said Vick. “We have to ask its permission—”

  “Dear mirror, will you please let us through?” Lizinia said hurriedly.

  “—in rhyme,” Vick finished.

  Of course. Trix remembered that now. Monday’s looking glass needed a rhyme to work. Saturday’s might have, had she not smashed it before they could try it properly. Which was really too bad, since Saturday was great at rhymes. She and Peter always played word games while working in the Wood.

  Trix did not share that ability. Oh, Saturday, why aren’t you here? Even Lizinia’s infernal spectral godfather would be more helpful than he felt at this moment.

  Lizinia, ever the optimist, tried her best in vain. “Mirror, dearer, clearer… Oh, I am horrible at this. What about you, Vick?”

  “I’ve never been fond of mirrors,” said the leprechaun.

  “I’m sure the feeling’s mutual,” said Trix. It was unkind of him, but the pain in his arm coupled with the emptiness in his stomach and head did not put him in a generous mood.

  “At least let him try,” Lizinia scolded him.

  Vick, sufficiently annoyed, kicked the glass. “LET US THROUGH, YOU LOUSY PIECE OF—”

  Lizinia put a hand on Vick’s arm. “Now, Vick. You catch more flies with honey.”

  The leprechaun pointed at the swarm of courtiers. “They don’t want honey. They want blood.

  The biting and smacking and howling and growling and humming from the Blood Court made Trix gag. They didn’t have time for this, but his mind was blank. Well, not blank. But, “Save us, Trix Woodcutter. Save us all” did not rhyme.

  Out of nowhere, Lizinia began to sing.

  “Lavender’s blue,

  Rosemary’s green…”

  Trix finished the verse.

  “Oh how I wish

  We could find the queen.”

  Lizinia smiled triumphantly and started the next lines, loud enough to mask the Blood Court’s frenzy.

  “Rosemary’s green,

  Lavender’s blue…”

  This time it was Vick who chimed in.

  “I’m gonna regret

  Ever meeting you.”

  “Come on, Vick,” urged Lizinia. “You can do better.”

  Vick gritted his teeth, spun in a circle, and stopped with his feet planted in front of the mirror. He leaned back and yelled into it at the top of his lungs. “How do you do, oh looking glass? Now let us back through, you pain in the a—aaaaaagh!”

  Uncle Bear, who had been watching the scene carefully, stuck his snout right in the middle of Vick’s back and nudged him not-so-gently through the face of the mirror the second its reflective surface began to melt away. Then Bear picked up Trix by the scruff of his borrowed shirt and leapt through the magic glass himself. Lizinia was the last to join them…as was the female courtier who’d caught hold of her arm.

  “Quick!” she called. “Close it off!”

  Trix might not have known much about magic mirrors, but he was familiar enough with enchanted animals to know they did not take kindly to condescension. “Vick is a wart,” he said to the mirror by way of apology. “Please stop the Blood Court!”

  The couplet was short and terrible, but it seemed to appease the mirror, which re-solidified without warning. Thankfully, Lizinia had managed to snatch her hand back before losing her fingers.

  “The steps we came down are back that way.” Vick indicated the shadows to his right.

  “This way it is, then,” said Trix. Wisdom’s tooth brightened around his neck in confirmation.

  In silence they descended, down and down, at least twice as far as they’d come from the surface and further still.

  “How far down are we going?” asked Trix. “To the center of the world?”

  “I imagine we’ll stop when the stairs stop,” said Lizinia.

  “That’s the idea,” said Vick.

  Something in the walls always seemed to be glowing: gems, lichen, pebbles, mushrooms—at times, fine grains twinkled like stars in the rich, dark earth. Trix got dizzy when the staircase spiraled. Eventually, the floor leveled out and there were no more steps to take. It was here where the corridors began. The passages looked incredibly narrow; Trix worried about his uncle’s size.

  Trix lifted Wisdom’s tooth into the cool air. “Dear Tooth, will this path lead us to the Faerie Queen?”

  The tooth brightened without hesitation, but its light was muted. It flickered briefly, as if it were a candle about to go out. The sheer pressure of the earth above them seemed to smother everything.

  “Welcome to the catacombs,” Vick said with false cheer. “A bit like being buried alive, isn’t it?”

  “Remind me never to get imprisoned while in Faerie,” said Lizinia.

  Thankfully, the corridor soon widened enough that Trix could walk beside Bear comfortably. He placed his hand casually on his uncle’s back and smoothed the fur there, as much to comfort his uncle as it was to give himself courage for the rest of the journey. The angry scratches on his arm throbbed, his stomach growled like Wolf, and the Faerie Queen chanting in his head was making his brain hurt.

  Uncle Bear turned his head into Trix’s hand, and their eyes met.

  “DANGER. BETRAYAL.”

  He heard his uncle’s words so loud and clear that he tripped over his own feet and went sprawling.

  “Trix!” Lizinia knelt by his side. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” Trix could feel his uncle’s intentions, stronger than the words he’
d spoken. Something was very wrong down here. “I just tripped. Sorry. It’s dark and…”

  “Trix, look.” Lizinia pointed to the ground before them, illuminated by the tooth’s ever-dimming light. “Bones.”

  Had they been human, these bones would have been from a toddler. “Maybe a kobold?”

  “Might be,” said Vick. “Or something worse.”

  Kobolds caused more mischief than Trix. Those shape changing misfits started fires, poisoned wells, and led children to their deaths. Kobolds were known for cutting men into pieces, roasting them on spits, or boiling them alive. “What’s worse than a kobold?” asked Trix.

  “Whatever killed the kobold,” said Vick. The leprechaun whipped his head around as if he’d heard something. “Douse the light,” he ordered.

  Trix was confused. If the light needed to go out, wouldn’t the tooth, in all its wisdom, have done so already? Trix began to ask why, but Lizinia placed a hand over his mouth and put a finger to her lips. Trix scowled at her, nodded, and placed a hand over the tooth, muffling the light beneath his fingers.

  Lizinia dropped her hand, but did not move further down the hall. No one did. As Trix’s eyes adjusted, he could make out a bluish purple light emanating from one of the archways. Slowly, he tiptoed toward the light’s source, his companions close behind him.

  There, on the floor of the catacombs, lay the bodies of the Faerie Queen…and Sorrow.

  11

  The Magic Game

  Trix released Wisdom’s tooth and leapt through the archway. “Don’t let her speak!”

  “Which one?” asked Lizinia.

  Vick, who knew the Faerie Queen, fell to his knees beside Sorrow’s body and clamped a hand over her mouth. “Not that she’s in any shape to be speaking,” said the leprechaun. “She’s unconscious. They both are.”

  “She’s stolen Mama Woodcutter’s power,” said Trix. “Every word that passes her lips will find a way to come true. I’m not taking any chances. Lizinia,”—Trix turned to the golden girl—“meet Aunt Sorrow.”