Part 8 (1/2)
Keelie looked over the selection and finally chose a pot of red snapdragons with yellow stripes. They looked like they could stand up to a fairy queen. The little flowers sang on, even as she held the pot close to her chest. ”They don't bite, do they?”
The warty salesman looked offended. ”Of course not. They're singing flowers, aren't they? I left the biters at home.”
”Then let's get out of here.” Keelie turned to her party, all gathered close to look at the pot of singing snapdragons.
”You've finally shown some sense,” Fala said. ”Although I don't know why you need flowers. He should have bought the sword.”
”I'm here to see your queen, to help her, so let's get on with it.” Keelie stopped herself and softened her voice. ”I mean, I'm anxious to attend the queen.”
She faced the vortex, feeling the hum of its magic run through everything. Why hadn't she noticed that before? She'd allowed herself to be deceived. Salaca was right-she was searching for the one thing in her mixed magical heritage that would make her feel whole, but the real Keelie was turning out to be like an onion, and with each magical adventure she uncovered layers of herself. And with each layer revealed, she felt more exposed and vulnerable.
Nearby, a crowd cheered and the clang of sword on armor was followed by a great outcry, then laughter.
”The joust,” Fala said. ”The Green Knight must have lost his head again.”
”A crowd pleaser,” Salaca responded, nodding.
As they moved forward, the rabbit bounced in front of them, still sawing madly at his fiddle and releasing an intricate waterfall of music. The vortex seemed no closer, so Keelie kept walking, the snapdragons singing loudly from their pot. The fiddler followed along, and behind them came the fae who had been gathered around. Before long, a great parade wove through the fae faire of Quicksilver, with Keelie at its head and Sean at her side. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was leading them to their doom.
They finally arrived at the vortex, which shone like a spiraling galaxy of light. Johnny O'Hare lowered his violin bow, but his music played on, flung up by the spinning vortex.
”Time to see the queen.” Coyote pulled out his gold pocket watch and clicked the stem. A loud boom shook them, as if something had exploded, but then Keelie felt time move again. It was like taking a breath after holding it for a long time, although she hadn't been aware of holding her breath. Her heart seemed to beat to the rhythm of the clock.
Johnny O'Hare lifted his fiddle up to his shoulder and ran the bow down the strings. He began to play a new tune and everyone began dancing, but under the cheerful melody, Keelie heard the tick-tick of the clock keeping rhythm.
”Okay, what now?” Keelie looked at the vortex, which seemed to vanish into the ground. She did not want to step into a hole into nothingness.
Fala motioned toward the tornado of light. ”Just jump into the light. It will carry you.”
The vortex pulsed in time to the music. Fala laughed. ”Afraid, Lady Keliel? It's the only way up.”
Sean grabbed her hand and held it tightly.
Knot walked to the edge, now dressed in the height of Victorian fas.h.i.+on with a velvet coat and floppy black tie above a snowy white linen s.h.i.+rt. He was almost at the edge when a furry brown blur in chaps and a cowboy vest barreled past. Coyote leaped into the light, shouting, ”See you there.”
Knot bowed to Johnny O'Hare, then leaped into the vortex after him.
Elia stepped forward and clung to Keelie. ”If we're going to do this, we're going to do it together.”
Sean stood behind Keelie and wrapped his arms around her waist. Keelie clutched the pot of singing flowers in one arm and extended her other hand to Elia, who clutched it tightly. Together they stepped forward and fell.
But then they were flying. She could feel Sean's strong arms around her, and Elia's icy vice grip strangling her free hand. The flowers had fallen silent. The only sound she heard was Salaca and Fala, laughing maniacally behind her. Keelie came to with a frantic gasp, brus.h.i.+ng at whatever was tickling her face. Not spiders. Snowflakes. s.h.i.+vering, she pushed herself up and looked down at the smooth, cold surface below her. Gla.s.s. It was some sort of floor. They were surrounded by darkness, and snowflakes landed softly on her face.
She hadn't expected the world of fae to be cold and wintry. She'd envisioned the s.h.i.+ning Ones as living in sunlit castles surrounded by green meadows and fairy-tale forests. She looked around, but all she saw was darkness except for a small ball of light floating above them. It floated down toward them, expanding until they stood in a silvery circle of illumination. She righted the flowerpot.
Murmurs drifted around them. Beside her, Sean sat up, rubbing his head. At his other side, Elia lay still. Keelie crawled to her, barely registering that she was now wearing a skirt.
”Elia, wake up.” She shook the unconscious girl. She didn't dare think about the baby.
Elia's eyelids fluttered, and she moaned. ”What happened?”
Relieved, Keelie sat cross-legged. She reached to close her cloak, but there was no cloak. Instead, she wore a burlap corset, and an underskirt of plain muslin stained with mud, and ugly shoes that looked like something she'd bought at the wicked-witch store. Red and white stockings covered her legs. Where was her favorite blue gown? This was not what she'd been wearing when she stepped through the vortex.
Sean's clothes had been transformed also. His hauberk had become a too-short peasant s.h.i.+rt that exposed his midriff. His nice six-pack was on display, but it looked ridiculous. He had on green hose that stopped at the knee and clunky wooden clogs. His armor had vanished, as had his sword.
Elia now wore a yellow gown with big red handprints on the chest. It was even more hideous than the skirt Tarl the Mud Man had given Keelie at the High Mountain Renaissance Faire. Luckily, Elia was still too groggy to notice.
”Meow.”
”You stupid cat. If you would just remove your claw, then we can free ourselves,” Coyote growled.
Keelie looked over at Knot and gasped. His fur! He looked as if he'd been to a dog groomer's and now had a fluffy pom-pom at the end of his tail. The fur on his legs had been shaved and he had little m.u.f.fs by his paws. He was not going to love this look.
Elia lifted herself from the gla.s.sy ground and blinked. ”Where are we?” She placed a hand protectively over her belly. ”I feel queasy.”
”I think we're in the court of the s.h.i.+ning Ones,” Keelie replied. ”And I don't think we're outside anymore.” Although she couldn't see it, she felt as if there was a ceiling somewhere far above them.
”What happened to our clothes?” Sean looked down at his new outfit in disgust.
Elia glanced down at herself and screamed. She jumped to her feet and started looking around, as if her other clothes might have been stashed somewhere, but they could see nothing outside the circle of light.
”A sorry jest,” Coyote said. His eyes glowed with anger. His motley brown fur had been transformed to black and white with a stripe running down his back. He now looked like a tall, skinny skunk.
”Why?” Keelie asked. But she knew the answer. The high fae-owners of general petty meanness.
Somewhere close, orchestral music began to play.
An announcer's voice began to speak. ”Ladies, good gentles, and all who are favored by the queen, please turn your attention to the center.” It sounded like Fala.
As if a light switch had been flipped on, light filled the corners and revealed a masked throng dressed in gorgeous clothing. Keelie didn't have a good feeling about this.
Knot hissed.
Coyote narrowed his eyes as a woman in a white feathered swan mask and a crystal-beaded gown strode toward them. She was followed by a good-looking elf who wore a small black mask over his eyes and a sweeping black cloak. He examined Keelie with interest, and she thought there was something familiar about him.
Out of the corner of her mouth, Keelie asked, ”Is this lady the queen?”
”Yes,” Coyote said, twisting his muzzle the same way.
Keelie stared at the beautiful woman. She could have been any of the gorgeous women who lived in L.A., dressed for an awards-show red carpet-at Mardi Gras. So far, there didn't seem to be anything magical about her.
”Who's the elf? I can't believe he's here after the big deal they made about no elves.” Keelie glanced down at Coyote. He scratched at the huge patch of white fur between his ears that made it seem as if he had a bad toupee.
”Never seen him. You're right. Elves and fairies don't hang out together.”
”That is no elf,” Fala said. Before he could explain, the queen spotted them.
”My, my. Look what has crawled into our realm,” Queen Vania said, looking down at them. Her violet eyes held Keelie's from behind her mask. Dark hair woven with gold spilled down her back. She seemed regal, and waves of strong magic seemed to flow from her, tickling Keelie's skin. This woman was in charge, and she knew it. Woe be unto anyone who disobeyed her, for they would feel the queen's wrath.
Keelie stood up, s.n.a.t.c.hing up the potted flowers. She'd paid her dues-she wasn't about to be looked down on. Of course, she was on a diplomatic mission, as she had to keep reminding herself. She would have to save the sarcasm for when she got back to Grey Mantle.