When Tinker Met Bell Read online

  “Goblins and fairies can’t be anythin’ to each other,” said Bellamy. “They can’t even touch.”

  “Hearts don’t have to touch to fall in love,” said Lian.

  Bellamy put a hand over her mouth in an attempt to cover the sob that broke out. Lian was right. Bellamy had fallen in love with her best friend. A goblin she shouldn’t have been friends with in the first place. It had happened so gradually, over so many years, that she hadn’t even realized.

  But apparently everyone else had.

  Young Bellamy had wished for someone who could be friends with her without wanting to touch her all the time, without her permission. When the universe had provided, she’d gone and fallen in love with him. And now he was leaving her forever.

  “Here.” Lian opened her arms wide. “You can’t hug him, but you can hug me.”

  Bellamy threw herself into her friend’s embrace and hugged her tightly—so tightly—as she cried her heart out all over again.

  4

  Tinker groaned as he turned on the water. Facing off against a gang of gargoyles had left him covered in dirt, with more than a few bruises. Apart from his injuries, nothing in his life seemed familiar anymore.

  He’d been up before dawn again. This time he ended up running sprints with the track team. After that, he’d been roped into a makeshift flag football game: gargoyles versus weres. Tinker didn’t have the first clue about the rules of football, but it seemed this morning’s play was more about tackling the guy with the ball instead of actively trying to score any points. It was interesting: these same kids had beaten him up and ignored him for years, and now they invited him to join in. Turned out, willingly having the stuffing beat out of you was a lot more fun. Who knew?

  Tinker smiled to himself and stepped in the shower. Tilted his face up to the spray. Let the warmth of the water sink into his bones.

  Lately, all the stuff he normally did—reading, playing video games, inventing something new—just couldn’t hold his attention. Ever since Retcher and his boys had crowned him with the Majestic Menace, there was this strange wild energy inside his belly. He wanted to jump out of his skin if he stood still too long.

  Sam was familiar with this feeling. He said that most weres experienced something very similar every month around the full moon.

  If Tinker didn’t know better, he might have thought he was turning into a shifter himself. He was used to being weak, tired and anxious, with a constant headache. These past few days, he felt stronger. Centered. It was easier to move. To breathe. To think. Even his muscles ached in a good way.

  Was it possible to catch health like catching a cold?

  He also found it a lot easier to talk to people he didn’t know very well. Which was a good thing, because suddenly everyone at Harmswood was talking to him like they’d known him forever. Most of them had known him for years, but he doubted any of them would have remembered his name before he’d been crowned heir to the goblin throne. Before Natalie’s little video.

  They all thought he was some grand prince now. No one seemed to care that he was destined to become King of Magpies and Stealer of Children. To the Harmswood populace, a throne was a throne, and a prince was a prince. Their friendships weren’t real. They wouldn’t last.

  He didn’t care.

  Tinker was going to spend whatever time he had left at Harmswood as one of the most popular kids in school, and it felt good. It felt great! There was only one small flaw in this perfection, one tiny, shining string that pulled at his heart.

  Bellamy.

  Being around Bellamy was like torture. Every time he looked at her sweet face, he remembered everything he was about to lose. No more parades. No more coffee stops at the Bean. No more D&D games with Hubble and the gang. No more preparing for college. No more future in mechanical engineering. The rest of his life would be spent playing referee in a kingdom full of chaotic goblins who never thought about girls—especially fairy girls—at all.

  Luckily, Bellamy was busy juggling work, preparations for the masquerade, and studying for midterms. He’d barely seen her outside class. And with Hubble’s theatre troupe constantly in rehearsals for the variety show they were putting on at the festival, Tinker didn’t have any excuse to visit The Hallowed Bean.

  He and Bellamy exchanged pleasantries in Physics every day, like they always did, but there were no more secret looks passed between them. Bellamy smiled at him, but Bellamy always smiled at him.

  Are you okay? she’d written to him in her notebook.

  Not really, he’d responded.

  I’m here if you want to talk. I’m always here.

  He did want to talk to Bellamy, but he wasn’t sure where to start. Nor was he sure how to get two words out before having a complete emotional breakdown.

  I’m always here.

  Yes, he desperately wanted to talk to Bellamy, but it never seemed to be the right time. So it never happened, out loud or on paper. The only things written in their notebooks from then on were classwork and test prep. There would be no more secret messages. No more sunshine. No more…

  Tinker put a hand over his heart. He missed Bellamy already and he wasn’t even gone yet.

  He stayed in the shower a while longer, as if the hot water might burn away his longing for the fairy he could never have. But the water ran cold with the ache still present, so he gave up. He stepped out of the shower, dried his hair as best he could, wrapped a towel around his waist, and stepped back into the room he shared with Hubble.

  He was not surprised to find Sam and Natalie there as well, chatting with Hubble around the coffee table.

  “Hey, guys,” Tinker said. “What’s up?”

  The trio looked up at him.

  Natalie whistled. “Take my boots and call me Brittany.”

  “That’s it.” Hubble jumped up from the floor and crossed the room to where the Mantle of Mischief had been tossed on the dresser. “I’m checking this thing for radioactive spiders.”

  Sam leaned back against the sofa and tilted his head at Tinker. “So the goblin thing’s only temporary? How’s that work, exactly? I apparently know zero about your culture.”

  Tinker was confused. “I wasn’t born a goblin, if that’s what you mean. None of the Lost Boys are. But we all become goblins once we are welcomed into the horde.”

  “All except the Goblin King, am I right?” asked Hubble. “I mean, I’ve never met the guy, but I’m guessing he’s easier on the eyes than the rest of you sad sacks.”

  Tinker had never really thought about it before. Of all the goblins, the king did look the most human. Since he was the one in charge of dealing with anyone who managed to infiltrate Goblin City from the outside world, it made sense for him to appear less threatening. That way, it was easier for him to convince people to leave…or stay, whatever the case may be. “Yeah, I guess. How did you—?”

  Hubble shut the bathroom door and pulled Tinker in front of the full length mirror that hung on the back of it. For a moment, Tinker didn’t recognize himself. He seemed tan from being outside so much—he didn’t even know goblin skin could do that. Instead of sallow and yellow his skin was a rich olive brown, slightly darker in the places where bruises had left their marks. His hair was a much deeper shade of emerald, almost black. Except for his eyes, there was barely a hint of green about his person, and not a wart or a bump to be found. Anywhere. Anywhere. He looked. Twice.

  Behind him in the mirror, Natalie fanned herself with a festival flyer. “I just can’t even.”

  “Seriously, Natalie?” Sam groaned.

  Hubble threw a handful of clothes at Tinker and pushed him back into the bathroom. “Dress yourself before you give Natalie the vapors.”

  “How long has this been going on?” Tinker called to Hubble through the door.

  “Since your Lost Boys put that stupid tin hat on you,” Hubble called back. “But the changes have been more…dramatic recently. You hadn’t noticed?”

  Tinker hadn’t even thought
about it. It wasn’t like he ever spent a lot of time looking in the mirror. “No.”

  “Your shirts haven’t felt smaller?”

  “I guess not,” said Tinker.

  “And you haven’t worn your glasses for two days. Didn’t notice that either?”

  Tinker’s hands flew to his face. He wasn’t wearing his glasses. But there was nothing wrong with his eyesight. He could see fine. He had half a mind to check the Mantle for radioactive spiders himself. He slid into his jeans—which had been much baggier before—and pulled on his NASA shirt. Hubble was right. It did feel snug.

  “Just like Peter Parker,” said Tinker.

  “Or the Green Goblin,” Hubble’s voice answered. “A more appropriate analogy.”

  Fully dressed this time, Tinker opened the bathroom door once more. “Is this shirt okay?”

  “Yes,” Natalie said lustily.

  “No,” Sam and Hubble said in unison.

  This time it was Sam who jumped up from the floor. “I’ll go see if one of the guys has something you can borrow.”

  “Try Finn first!” Tinker called after him, and then shrugged at the withering look Hubble gave him. “What? Finn at least has decent taste in concert tees.” The shrug split the seam in his left sleeve.

  Hubble sighed and rolled his eyes. Natalie cracked up.

  Tinker tried to change the subject. “So what were you rocket scientists discussing before I rudely interrupted with my new and improved self?”

  “One of the skits the drama club is doing for the festival is a comedic abridgment of Romeo and Juliet. I’m playing Juliet,” Natalie said proudly.

  “And Kwasi is Romeo,” said Hubble. “I hate that guy.”

  “Be nice,” said Natalie. “He’s my date to the masquerade.”

  “He has to be,” Hubble said. “He’s Romeo to your Juliet. Just do us all a favor and don’t end up dead by the end of the dance. I need you both in fighting form for the festival.”

  Tinker shook his head at both of them. “Who are you playing?” he asked Hubble.

  “Mercutio, of course,” Hubble said with a bow.

  “You should see our costumes,” said Natalie. “Ausrinne made them. She is a sewing goddess. We’re going to look so fancy.”

  “And deadly,” said Hubble.

  “We’re all wearing them tonight at the masquerade, to advertise for the festival,” said Natalie. “What are you going to wear, Tinker?”

  Tinker wanted to think about the dance he’d promised Bellamy about as much as he wanted to think about what happened when it was over. Both hurt too much. He started to shrug again, and then remembered the precarious state of his shirt. “I could always go as Spiderman. Just to be ironic.”

  “What? No,” said Hubble. “It’s a masquerade ball, bro. Not a Halloween party.”

  “There’s a difference? I’ve never been to any parties at this school.” Nor had Tinker ever wanted to attend such gatherings.

  “One wears a costume at a Halloween party,” said Natalie. “At a masquerade, people wear ballgowns and elaborate masks. It’s a lot more formal.”

  “Like Zombie Prom?” Tinker asked.

  “You guys have a Zombie Prom?” Natalie asked excitedly.

  Hubble pinched an imaginary beard and scanned Tinker from head to toe. “You know, the theatre department might have just the thing for you. I’ll get Ausrinne to tailor it.”

  “Now?” asked Natalie. “But the ball’s tonight.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “But you already owe her for…”

  Hubble waved away Natalie’s comment. “Yes, yes, I’m aware. Don’t worry about it. Ausrinne knows I’ll go to my grave owing her my soul. But we’ll need to find him a mask.”

  “I’ll take care of that,” said Natalie. Tinker wondered if he should be worried about her enthusiasm, or the Hubble-like twinkle in her eye.

  “We should go down right away so Ausrinne can take your measurements,” said Hubble.

  “Maybe she can fix my shirt,” Tinker said offhandedly.

  “Got one!” Sam yelled, brandishing a new shirt over his head. By the sheer volume of the thing, it appeared to belong to one of the gargoyles.

  “No risk of that being too small,” said Tinker.

  Natalie turned around and faced the wall. “Quick, get changed so you can go see Ausrinne.”

  “You don’t have to…” Tinker started.

  “I’ve been ogled by enough guys,” said Natalie. “Trust me. I know how uncomfortable it feels. But I’m not going to apologize for appreciating the sight of you earlier. Deal?”

  Tinker laughed as he quickly changed into the massive shirt. Having something that hung on his frame again felt strangely comforting. “Deal.”

  “All right, lover boy,” Hubble said as he dragged Tinker out into the hall. “Let’s get you to the costume department.”

  “We’ll get started on the mask!” Natalie called after them.

  “Can I take a nap first?” Tinker heard Sam ask his sister.

  “Quick now.” Hubble turned back briefly to glance at Tinker. “I wonder if we have time to get your hair trimmed, too. And what do your fingernails look like? Wait…don’t show me. I can imagine.”

  Tinker self-consciously balled his hands into fists as he jogged after his best friend. “It sounds like you’re giving me a makeover.”

  “I’m getting you ready for the performance of a lifetime,” Hubble said as he turned the next corner. “The best LARP ever.”

  The last time Hubble had roped him into Live-Action Role Playing, Tinker had been forced to play the troll. “I don’t know, Hubble…what if—oof!”

  Tinker had run to catch up with Hubble, only to smack headlong into the guy running the opposite way around the same corner. Tinker saw only a flash of bright orange before falling straight onto his backside.

  “Sorry, sorry,” said the guy. “Totally my fault. Here, let me help you up.”

  Tinker clasped the proffered arm and stood back up, wobbling a bit before he found his balance. When he did, he found himself staring straight into Bellamy’s eyes. But not Bellamy. Her brother. Asher.

  As soon as Asher realized who he’d just helped to his feet, he dropped Tinker’s arm like a hot potato. “Oh wow, Tinker! Dude, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  Tinker shook his head a bit to clear the cobwebs. He’d been surprised…thrown for a loop…but otherwise…

  Suddenly, Hubble was back at his side. “It’s fine, Asher. Go on. I’ll make sure he gets to the nurse.”

  “Seriously. I am so, so sorry. I didn’t realize… I mean, if anything happens to you, my sister will kill me.”

  “It’s okay,” Tinker said, still dazed. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

  Asher’s brow furrowed over those brilliant blue eyes, but he seemed reassured. He patted Hubble on the back and sped off.

  “As fast as that guy goes, he should have been the one to get the wings in the family,” Hubble said after Asher’s retreating form. “Come on. Pit stop at the nurse. You know the drill.”

  “Wait,” said Tinker.

  “Sure. Sorry. Did the Flash knock you senseless? I should have given that fae fool a piece of my mind.”

  “Hubble, I feel fine.”

  “I’ll give you a minute, but I don’t want to wait too long before getting you to the nurse…”

  “Hubble!” Tinker grabbed his friend’s arms. “Look at me! I’m fine.”

  Hubble examined the forearm that Asher had touched. He squinted at Tinker’s face, looked closely in one eye, and then the other. “I don’t see a rash. There’s no itching?”

  “Nope.”

  Hubble still wasn’t convinced. “No scratchy throat? No blurred vision?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Maybe we should go to the nurse anyway, just to be sure…”

  “Hubble, nothing is wrong with me. Nothing. I feel great. I feel…” The gravity of the situation finally began to sink in. If h
is goblinness was fading, it appeared that his fairy allergy was fading right along with it. “I feel…human.”

  His whole body filled with such pure happiness that it overwhelmed him. He lifted his head to the elaborately-painted ceiling and whooped from the joy of it all.

  “Where do you think Bellamy is right now? The gym? The Bean?”

  “Tinker, hold on a second.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’ll check the gym first. I’ll find her. And when I do…”

  “Hey, mad man, are you listening to me?”

  “…I’m going to lift her up in my arms…”

  “Yeah, you’re totally not hearing anything right now.”

  “…and give her the biggest hug that anybody ever gave anyone. And then…”

  And then Hubble slapped him. Tinker shook his head again. “What the hell, Hubble?”

  Hubble crooked his finger at Tinker. Tinker stooped until he was eye to eye with his so-called best friend. Then Hubble held up that same finger. Softly and evenly he said, “Parting is such sweet sorrow.”

  Tinker’s nostrils flared in anger. “The Bard was full of crap,” he said. “Parting isn’t sweet. Parting sucks. And the Lost Boys are going to come and take me away any minute now. I can’t guarantee that they’ll wait until the masquerade.”

  “What?” said Hubble.

  “Yeah.” Tinker shrugged, and the gargoyle-sized shirt fell off one shoulder. “Fork and Willie have already come with a note from the Goblin King. I sent them away. Twice.”

  This time, it was Hubble who shook his head. “I wish you’d told me.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Apology accepted,” said Hubble. “But it makes what I’m about to tell you all the more important. Are you listening to me?”

  “Yes,” Tinker said resignedly.

  “Okay. So I may not have a lot of first-hand experience with love, but I have watched this storyline play out in performance after performance.”

  Tinker raised an eyebrow.

  “Bellamy is a romantic,” said Hubble. “And so are you, though you’d never admit it. You have to do the grand gesture. The most beautiful of all tragic endings. Wait until tonight…”