it shimmers like no gemstones i've ever seen: green as malachite and emerald but shot through with opal, gold, copper. photographs can't do it justice because of how it shines, as well as the way the actual material elements have their own dimensions. you can lean in and study all the fine lines of the circuits or step back and admire how the rearranged whole forms new patterns. it's one of the most beautiful creations i've ever seen.
Once upon a time, on a verdant plain near the sea, there lived a young woman named Gwen. Gwen was a solid, responsible soul whose strength and tenacity earned her the admiration of all who lived in her village. She was strikingly beautiful, with flowing auburn waves and steely gray eyes. But as for any evildoer who thought her beauty and just nature masked weakness, that mistake would be their last.
Gwen lived in an old monastery, a building of stone that had endured through the centuries. Galerna, her village, was a pious group of people dedicated to a simple life. Gwen filled her days guarding the flocks from wolves, and her nights guarding the village from those who would do them harm. Foolish bandits and roving warriors alike fell to her skilled blade. Gwen was unfaltering in her sworn and sacred duty to smite evil and protect the innocent.
On a fine summer day, near the cusp of autumn, a proposition came before the village elder. The well in the center of the village was slowly drying up. Before the end of the next year, it would be empty entirely.
"We've found a new source of water, an underground reservoir on the edge of the village green, but..." Marjorie, an exceptionally skilled naturalist, bowed her head as she spoke. "The reservoir is beneath a... a fairy fort."
This was a serious problem indeed. A fairy fort, so the villagers sometimes whispered, was a place of great danger. The good folk of the woods had made them long before any humans walked the land, and they were known to hold their feasts and festivals atop their grassy domes. No one would even set foot upon it. To dig a deep well straight through the middle — that was unthinkable.
The elder spent a whole day and night in meditation and prayer. When he returned from his chambers, his expression was grave.
"The needs of Galerna outweigh any mere superstition, no matter how deeply felt. We must begin work on the well at once. Who will take up this mission?"
The room filled with murmuring. Feet shuffled, and eyes were cast to the earthen floor. Gwen set her jaw in disdain for their cowardice. She stepped forward with her head held high.
"I will dig the well, even if I must do it alone. I’m not afraid of a children’s story about sprites and little people." She put her hands on her hips, her muscular arms taut, as if to dare any of them to doubt her.
The elder nodded his head approvingly. "Very well. Thank you, Gwen, and may you be blessed with success in your task.”
Gwen began working that very day. She toiled morning and evening, rain or shine, for a full fortnight. Sometimes a villager would be bold enough to bring her lunch or a flask of water, and she would always assure them of the same thing: there was nothing to fear. At last, just as the sun was setting on the fourteenth day, Gwen placed the final stone. Some of the villagers had gathered behind Marjorie on the edge of the fairy fort, but none would cross the raised earthen edge.
"You'll have to use it eventually," Marjorie said to the villagers. "See? Gwen's dug it for you, and the fair folk have done her no harm. That's what's worrying you, isn't it?"
No one said a word as Gwen pushed through their ranks. She returned to the old monastery and her modest cot, more exhausted than she had ever been. She fell upon the covers, not even bothering to remove her rumpled work clothes and boots, and was fast asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Something woke her in the wee hours of the morning. The room was soaked through with darkness, and all was silent and still... save for a strange rustling from the foot of her bed.
Before she could even gather her senses, they were upon her. Dozens of small hands tore her from her bed, pulling a cloth tight between her teeth, binding her hands behind her back, bearing her up and away like a rushing river. Gwen kicked out hard and her foot struck one of her assailants with a sound like a hollow log and a high screech of pain. Where one body fell, though, three more were there to take its place.
Gwen's eyes stung from the light of the full moon as the creatures carried her up and out of the open window. All around her, she could see their tiny forms: wood-carved little devils covered in moss and vines. Their mouths were bursting with sharp teeth, and their long claws clacked together like carding paddles.
Gwen twisted around in their clutches, only to see a pale horse with a sickly tinge of green in its mane. Before she knew it, they had pushed her up into its reedy saddle. Gwen's legs stuck fast to the steed's flanks, and the first icy fingers of fear crept into her stomach. This was an aughiskey, a water horse. Any poor soul who climbed upon its back could never climb down again, and the water horse would carry them to the depths of the sea to drown. The wooden devils spurred the horse into a gallop over the hill, Gwen struggling to stay upright.
A crimson forest loomed ahead, thick with bone-white birch trunks. Gwen had never seen it before — it appeared to have sprung up overnight. The horse plunged into the trees. The imps clattered along in its wake, laughing and jeering in childish voices.
"Trespasser, vandal, brazen thief!" they chanted. "Take her to the court of the Fairy King!"
The eerie horse sped on into a wide clearing alight with fireflies. As quickly as it had begun to gallop, it stopped dead in its tracks. If Gwen had not been stuck to it, she surely would have been thrown to the ground. A soft glow emanated from the trees at the far end of the clearing, and the devils' voices dropped to a reverent hush.
"Your Majesty," they whispered in chorus. "Your Majesty, your Majesty..."
Gwen's eyes grew wide as she glimpsed to whom they spoke. A woman stepped forward from the treeline and into the moonlight.
She was utterly radiant and utterly alien. Her form was black as pitch from head to foot, and her eyes glowed the bright yellow of molten metal. Rams’ horns curled out of her thick, woolly hair. As she neared, Gwen realized that her gown was knit of deep blue spears of larkspur. Its loose weave, held together with gossamer golden thread, hid absolutely nothing of her voluptuous body.
"Where are you hurrying off to tonight?" she asked. Her voice was the slow drizzle of honey, right from the comb. Her full lips bloomed into a coy smile. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."
"She has desecrated the fairy fort, favored by the King," one of the devils said, almost abashedly, "and the penalty is death."
"He will burn her to ashes and swallow her bones!" said another with more relish.
The woman made a tut-tutting sound. "That sounds like a harsh punishment for a little crime like that, especially for such a handsome mortal." She seemed to climb a staircase of air until she was level with Gwen. The woman tilted her chin upwards with a single soft fingertip. Gwen felt her cheeks burning. "Perhaps I could carry out a more... suitable sentence."
The creatures tittered to one another, unsure. At last, one stepped forward from the rest. "My Queen," it squeaked, "we must take her to the King to decide. It is his law, and he must pass judgment!"
The Queen alighted onto the grass, bent down to the little devil, and put a hand upon its mossy head. "How obedient you are," she said softly. "How loyal."
Gwen gasped involuntarily as the creature burst into flames. Its screams of agony sent deep shudders through her body. Soon, nothing was left of it but a circle of scorched earth. The woman stood and surveyed the terrified imps.
"Would anyone else like to proclaim their loyalty?" Silence filled the clearing. "Wonderful." Her eyes found Gwen's. "Of course, if you would rather face what my husband thinks of as justice, you need only say the word."
Gwen met her gaze and slowly shook her head.
"Good to hear it. Let's get you somewhere more comfortable, why don't we?" The Queen patted the water horse on the nose and began to walk back into the forest. The horse followed behind, now as tame as an old mare. Gwen saw that where the Queen's bare feet touched the grass, it withered and died.
They had not walked more than a quarter of an hour before they reached a strange building: a small cottage, covered entirely in creeping vines. Hundreds of clematis flowers dotted the walls. The Queen held up her hand to the horse as they reached the wooden doors.
"Here we are," she said. She looked back at Gwen. "Can you walk?" Gwen nodded, and immediately felt the horse slowly melting beneath her. Her shoes hit the ground, soaked in an inch of water. The Queen patiently waited as the devils swarmed around her feet and pushed the doors open. Golden light spilled out from inside, and Gwen found herself squinting again. The imps shoved her forward, forcing her to step over the threshold.
The front hall was resplendent, full of elegant furniture and enormous bundles of flowers and berries hanging along the walls. Gwen mentally identified the ones she had seen in Marjorie's books: iris, wolfsbane, hyacinth, nightshade. Her legs felt numb as she tried to keep pace with the Queen.
Soon, the grand hall ended in a smaller gilded door, and the Queen once again waited for the little devils to hold the door open. She gestured for Gwen to enter, followed her inside, and shut the door firmly behind them. To Gwen's relief, this meant shutting out the creatures as well. The Queen waited for their hollow footsteps to fade before she turned to the wide dresser next to the door. She opened a box that was sitting upon the surface and pulled out a gleaming golden dagger.
Gwen tensed, ready to defend herself with what little opportunity she had. However, in a motion almost too quick for her eyes to follow, the Queen stepped behind her and cut her hands free of their bindings. The heady scent of larkspurs filled Gwen's nose as the Queen reached up to undo the knot of the cloth in her mouth and pull it away.
She sucked in a deep, grateful breath. "Thank you." She was all too aware of the Queen 's breasts pressing against her back. "And thank you for... intervening."
"Taking someone as beautiful as you out of the world would have been the real crime." The Queen placed the dagger on the dresser, crossed to the lavish four-poster bed in the center of the room, and perched on the edge of it. She patted the space next to her. "Please, sit. You must be so tired after all that roughhousing."
Gwen rubbed absently at her wrist as she stared out of one of the circular windows. We're not far into the forest. The path to this cottage was straightforward, and I'll have the clearing for a checkpoint. From there, though... She said aloud, "No, thank you. I'm truly grateful for your help, but I need to return home as soon as possible. I have already been gone for too long."
"Please, I insist. Just sit with me for a minute, that's all." Her voice had darkened ever so slightly. Gwen met her eyes and found that they were as hypnotic as a crackling fire. Something was tugging at her body and mind, pulling her towards that bed. There was nothing else in the world that she wanted more than to sit with the Queen.
Gwen stomped on the urge until it was well and truly trampled. "I cannot," she said again. "All I need is a lantern and I can be on my way."
"A-Are you sure?" The Queen's serene expression flickered and died. Her brow knitted together in total confusion. "You're absolutely... absolutely positive?"
Gwen nodded firmly. "Absolutely."
The Queen mustered up a much less dazzling smile. "At least take a bath and a fresh change of clothes. You've got twigs in your hair." Gwen reached up to find a whole tangle of forest in her long, wavy ponytail. And her clothes were filthy and torn...
Gwen folded her arms. "Very well."
"The bath is through that door to your left, and I'll lay out something for you by the time you're finished." The Queen stood. "If there's anything you need, anything at all, I'll make sure you have it. Especially if you desire... company."
Gwen was already turned around and striding as fast as possible towards the bathroom. She shut the door, locked it, and pushed a nearby cabinet until it was blocking the door entirely. She slumped against the wall. Gwen felt many things in that moment: exhaustion, relief, anxiousness, and even a little lingering fear. But mostly she felt annoyed.
This is a complete waste of time, she thought bitterly.
She glanced around at the predictably marvelous bathroom. The floor and walls were tiled in rich royal blue and gold, and there were just as many bouquets as in the main hall. A huge, round tub was sunk into the center of the floor. The black marble made it look like a bottomless pit... or perhaps a well.
Gwen approached it, wondering from where she was supposed to draw the water, when a torrent of it began to pour from above her. Gwen skittered backwards and stared up at the ceiling. Sure enough, a waterfall had formed from nowhere at all. Steam filled the room.
Gwen started to unbutton her ragged shirt, but a suspicion prickled on the back of her neck. The fair folk had many strange powers, or so the legends said. She could not be sure that she was truly alone — or unobserved. She crept back towards the cabinet and leaned over it, pressing her ear to the door. To her surprise, she heard the Queen’s voice.
“Gods,” she said in a sort of half-moan. “I mean, you know this has never happened to me before, right? Everyone else— I’ve never had to try.”
“You’re being awfully dramatic over nothing. We all have our off days.” A man’s voice joined the Queen’s, though it had barely been five minutes since Gwen had left the room. “I’m sure that if you dial up the charm next time, it will work out just fine.”
“That was maximum charm,” the Queen wailed. “It doesn’t go any higher!” There was a sound like a heavy body flopping onto a mattress. “I’m the fairy queen, damn it! I should be irresistible!”
“I don’t know what to tell you. Perhaps she simply cares only for men.”
“Only for men.” The Queen’s voice quavered. “Are you trying to break my heart? Smash it into little pieces and then toss the pieces into a fathomless lake? Because that’s what you’re doing.”
Gwen flushed in shock at the discussion of her romantic proclivities. She backed away from the cabinet, nearly tripping over her own feet. “Everyone else,” she muttered. The phrase left an ominous feeling in the pit of her stomach. They were still faintly arguing as she turned back to the tub, satisfied that at least she wasn’t being spied upon. She shrugged off her clothing and sank into the pitch-black water.
Gwen felt her whole body relax. This was far from the tepid or downright cold baths that she had taken back at the monastery. Usually she just dunked herself in the round tub the in communal washroom, after everyone else had already made use of it. This water was hot enough to boil an egg, and the light floral scent that permeated the bathroom also seemed to emanate from the steam around her. The only downside was trying to figure out which one of the dozens of jewel-toned bottles that surrounded the tub was ordinary soap.
She gave up and chose one at random. The dark blue bottle yielded an amber liquid that, to her immense relief, formed vanilla-scented suds in her hands. She let down her hair and thoroughly washed out the forest debris. Even though the water's surface was now littered with leaves, Gwen couldn't bring herself to leave the tub until she had turned bright pink from the heat.
At last, she reluctantly climbed out. A woven cotton towel hung from a wooden rack nearby, and she wrapped it around herself. Gwen frowned deeply as she realized that she had already fallen for a fey trick: the clothes the Queen had promised were probably lying on the bed right next to her. Steeling herself for more flirtations, Gwen returned to the cabinet and shoved it aside. She marched resolutely into the bedchamber.
The room was empty. Gwen glanced around, but there was no sign of the Queen or her mystery companion. There were only a few outfits laid out side by side. Gwen examined each of them in turn: an emerald gown with a pattern of velvet vines, an embroidered jacket and trouser set of red and gold, and a plain cream blouse with a pleated navy skirt. A pair of gray trousers sat alone on the edge of the bedspread. Gwen found the first two options to be too ostentatious, and she settled on the blouse and skirt.
No one entered even after she'd dressed. Gwen carefully eased open the door to the hall, wary of any little devils that might be lurking underfoot, and peered out into the front parlor. The Queen sat in a gilt chair across from a man with a smart coif of dark brown hair and an even smarter tailored suit. The forest green silk rustled as he raised a teacup to his lips. The Queen put down her own cup and hurriedly stood.
"There you are!" She put a hand to her mouth and cleared her throat, averting her eyes. "I— ah, I mean— did you have a pleasant bath? And you liked the clothes?"
"Both were fine," Gwen said shortly. Her eyes moved to the round table between the two. "I do not see the lantern that I asked for."
"Well, about that..." The Queen still wouldn't make eye contact. "You see, you can't... I can't..."
"You can't leave," said the man. He smiled like a cat toying with a mouse. His teeth were just as sharp as the rest of him.
Gwen was on her last nerve. She whirled on the Queen, only barely keeping hold of her composure. "And why is that? I heard you speak of others — did you imprison them here as well? Or did you dispose of them when you were finished?"
"Absolutely not!" A wave of heat rolled off of the Queen, forcing Gwen to take a step back. She was certain that she saw flames licking around the Queen's fingers before she clenched her fists to douse them. "I have treated every single one of my guests with care, thank you very much, and I have sent them all home afterwards!"
"Then why are you keeping me here?"
"That's just it." The Queen sank back into her chair. "I'm not the one who brought you to the fairy world, so I can't send you back.”
"The King," Gwen said, understanding at once.
"Yes. I just intercepted you — he’s the one who has any say over whether you can leave. And from what I heard, your chances sound pretty bad."
"I heard you were a criminal," the man said before another long sip of tea. "Very scandalous."
Gwen shot him a sidelong glance. "And who are you?"
"This is Felix, my... advisor. He’s a total ass who delights in the suffering of others."
"Harsh. I just find it entertaining, is all. Anyway, I suppose your best option is to stay here, human. You'll enjoy a life far nicer than anything you would have had in your filthy little village, that's for certain."
"I will just have to speak to the King myself," said Gwen, ignoring him. "When will he arrive home?"
"Home?" The Queen asked with a bitter laugh. "He doesn't live here. He's not even allowed in here." She stood once more. "If you try to talk to him, he won't hesitate to kill you. That's the unfortunate fact of the matter. I'll just have to bargain with him for you."
"Bargain?" asked Gwen. "What do you mean?"
"I'll ask for your safe passage back to your village. In exchange, I'll give him something he wants." She sighed grimly. "Something he really wants."
"You wouldn’t," Felix said sharply. "I don't know if you recall, but this is a human. Practically worthless. And if you give up your only advantage, what do you think will happen your beloved mortals?"
"Stop talking around me," Gwen interrupted. "I'm involved in this as well. I would appreciate some clarity."
The Queen nodded. "You're right, you deserve that much. But it’s a long explanation, and it's getting late. We'll have to regroup tomorrow."
Gwen looked out of the round window at the rising dawn. "Tomorrow? But it's morning already."
"Perhaps for you," Felix said. "But most of us enjoy a good day's sleep. The sun is awful for my complexion."
Felix stood and gave a very slight bow to the Queen. "I must be getting back to my estate. But don't do any scheming without me, would you?"
"Wouldn't dream of it." The Queen curtsied in return. Felix clapped his hands twice and vanished into a thin sheen of sparkling mist, to Gwen's astonishment. "He does that a lot. It's his favorite party trick." She looked back towards the bedroom door. "Fortunately, the bed is meant to accommodate more than one person—"
"The floor is fine." Gwen strode back inside, the Queen scurrying along in her wake. Soon, she had made a perfectly serviceable place for Gwen. A folded comforter almost as thick as Gwen's mattress lay beside the dresser, along with two overstuffed pillows.
"Are you sure that's enough? It doesn't look very comfortable..."
"If anything, it looks far too comfortable," Gwen answered. "I'm afraid I will sink into it and never return." The Queen laughed at that, and Gwen found herself smiling at both the sound and her own little joke. Almost immediately, she regretted it. She remembered the Queen murdering one of the imps, and her lustful gaze in that very room.
I need to remain alert, she thought to herself as she lay down. I have not met a single trustworthy person in this place. She surreptitiously watched the Queen sit down on the edge of the bed. She put her fingertips on the low neckline of her dress, and the larkspur began to wilt and fade to a lifeless brown. The flowers fell from her body, disappearing as soon as they hit the floor, until the Queen was wearing nothing at all. Even though the difference was practically nonexistent, Gwen still flipped over to stare at the wall.
"Last chance," the Queen called, a lilt in her voice. "I would be happy to keep you warm."
Gwen considered her silence answer enough.
"All right, all right. Sleep well, regardless." As soon as she said that, the room fell into an unnatural darkness. Gwen waited for as long as she could stand before slowly sitting up. When the Queen didn’t wake, she reached up onto the dresser and carefully felt for the dagger. Her fingertips brushed the handle, and she lifted it without a sound. Soon it was resting under her pillow. If anything disturbed her sleep, it would not come away unscathed.
~
Gwen snapped awake as she felt something touch her shoulder. She sat bolt upright, her hand fumbling beneath her pillow, when the Queen let out a cry of surprise and stumbled backwards.
"Hell's teeth, you don't have to be so violent about it!" The Queen glared at the dagger point sticking out from beneath the pillow. "Were you going to stab me?"
"You could have simply called my name before you decided to lay hands upon me!" Gwen retorted.
"How am I supposed to do that when I don't even know your name?"
At that, Gwen's anger faded. "It’s Gwen," she said. "I apologize for not introducing myself earlier."
"I guess I didn't, either." The Queen shrugged. "You don't have to use Your Majesty or anything. You can call me Cosima."
"Very well. Cosima, please do not wake me by touch ever again."
She smiled sheepishly. "You have my word. And if you know anything about our kind, you know we can't lie." Cosima looked out of the window at the last dregs of twilight. "I wanted you to sleep as much as you needed to, but it's only a matter of time before my husband confronts me. We need to have some kind of plan before then."
"May I ask something personal?" Cosima nodded. "If the King of The Fairies is your husband, why do you not live together?" Her voice took on a bit of an edge. "And why do you take so many lovers?"
"Don't think I don't notice your scorn," she huffed. "To simplify things, we don't marry for love. We marry for power. The King and Queen are the two strongest fey in a given court, though there is some finesse involved. I definitely don't love him. I've only slept with him once or twice, and that's just because I was going through a clingy phase." She frowned at the memory. "We hold begrudging respect for one another at best. I never even see him, unless there's something important going on. You know, like a grand ball or one of us holding court."
Gwen didn't know, but she nodded all the same. "Hence the need for bargaining."
"That's right." Her expression clouded, her eyes troubled. "It won't be a pleasant exchange, but you need to get home. You said it yourself."
"On that matter... When your advisor said that something would happen to other humans once you gave the King what he wanted, what did he mean?"
Cosima hesitated for a long time before answering. "I'll put it this way. My husband is not a good person, but he is a ruthlessly competent ruler. On top of that, he doesn't feel the affection that I do towards humans. I'm sure he would use my gift for awful things — and he would use it effectively."
"I see." Gwen fell into a grave silence. Before she could ponder what to say next, there was a knock on the door. A knock that came from very near the ground.
"Your Majesty?" said a familiar voice. "You have a visitor."
"Fuck," Cosima whispered. "That had better be Felix." Gwen noticed for the first time that she wasn't wearing anything particularly queenly — only a sweater of indigo wool and leggings so dark that Gwen couldn't tell where they ended and her skin began.
She opened the door to reveal one of the wooden devils. Felix stood close behind it, looking impatient. "I told you," Cosima said, "that all of you can leave. Go back to the King already and stop lurking around."
"Y-Yes, Your Majesty! We're sorry, Your Majesty!"
"You should be. Now go." Gwen watched the little imps stream out of the front door, murmuring amongst themselves.
"Hm," said Felix. "They're off to tell tales on us."
"I don't care if he finds out about anything we've said," Cosima said. "Or not much, anyway. But now we can speak a little more freely." She led the way into a room on their right. It housed a much larger table, which was laden with a variety of fruits and breads. Steaming cups of tea sat in front of three of the chairs. "Ah! They at least made breakfast before they went. Good for something, I suppose."
"What are those creatures?" Gwen asked as she sat down next to a bowl of grapes.
"The King made them," Felix said. "He crafted them as servants for himself, but they have to listen to the Queen as well."
"I wonder sometimes if I should be nicer to them, but they are my husband's cronies and they do spy for him. I figure it's best if they have a healthy fear of me." Cosima popped a grape into her mouth and sighed. "I suppose I can make His Majesty an offer at this evening's ball. If he hasn't sent for me by now, he probably wants an audience."
"No," Gwen said.
Cosima furrowed her brow. "No? Do you think I should speak to him sooner?"
"You shouldn't offer him anything at all. I cannot allow you to go forward with this." Gwen's tone was steely. "I do not know what it is you're giving away for my freedom, but if it could bring harm to my people, I cannot put my life above theirs. We will have to find another way."
Cosima looked at her for a very long time. "How unfair," she murmured. "As if you weren't already attractive enough, now you have to go and be all noble."
"So," Felix said, his catlike grin widening, "on to Plan C, then."
"... Plan B," Gwen said.
Cosima leaned back in her chair and rubbed at her temples. "No, he really means Plan C." She squeezed her eyes shut. "C for crazy, costly, and could-be-impossible."
"C for coup," Felix said. His eyes glinted hungrily. "Something we should have done years ago."
"Stop embarrassing me in front of the brave, selfless human," Cosima groaned. "Yes, I should have already done it. I was just... waiting for an opportune time. Where there was at least a slim chance that I wouldn't be killed." She glanced over to Gwen. "Feel in over your head yet?"
"Of course not," Gwen replied. "It's clear to me that this King of yours is wicked, and he plans to hurt innocent people. I won't rest until he is stopped — even if it means slaying him myself."
"Do you ever turn off?" Felix asked over his teacup.
Gwen glared at him, unamused. "I will do whatever needs to be done, and I would prefer that we move quickly. What does this plan actually entail?"
"It's so straightforward that giving it a name seems silly," Cosima said. "There have been many kings and queens overthrown in the past in a variety of ways, so it's nothing new. I was thinking I would challenge him to a duel. Those are pretty common as well, and they rarely end in any serious damage to either person. I would just have to go too far, is all."
"Won't he suspect you of something? That is an aggressive course of action."
"He might, but he knows he has leverage over me. He has you." Behind her, Felix rolled his eyes. "He already knows that I was willing to cross him to protect you. I won't have any problem convincing him that I'm this desperate to save your life."
"And if you lose?" Gwen asked.
"That depends on what his terms are. But if I lose, none of us will get out of it unscathed." Cosima met Gwen's eyes. "Which is why it's so risky."
"You must be joking," Felix scoffed. "If the King gets close enough to execute her, she would probably tear his throat out.”
“I do not appreciate your sarcasm.”
“I’m afraid sarcasm is something I’m literally incapable of.” Felix daintily set his teacup down. “It’s a form of lying, and you know what they say about fey and lying.”
Gwen smiled bitterly. "Fine. That is an exaggeration, to be sure. But I am not a defenseless victim, and I won't be treated as such. I trust that you will succeed, and even if you don't, I'll fight to the end."
"See?" said Felix lightly. "She's excited. Keep that up; you'll need it for tonight's festivities."
Gwen raised her eyebrows. "I'll need to attend?"
"I would rather keep you with me. I mean, I could leave you behind and trust that nobody would come after you, but... I would feel better if I knew for sure."
Gwen nodded slowly. "It would be wise, I suppose, to be there if anything unexpected happens."
"Sounds delightful. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to begin preparations. Ta!" Felix clapped once and disappeared in another swirl of mist.
Cosima smiled joylessly. "There he goes again. That leaves us with some down time, though." She cast a sidelong glance at Gwen. "I know that you don't really want to be here, but... could I interest you in a tour? Of the grounds, I mean. You've already seen all the interesting parts of the house."
"Is it safe to do so?" Gwen remembered that she was still, however unfairly, considered a criminal.
"It should be. No one else lives in this part of the forest but me. Even Felix lives close to my husband's castle, like everyone else."
"You don't have servants?"
Cosima shook her head. "I automate most things around the house with magic, or just do them myself. To be honest, I kind of like the solitude. It's... peaceful."
Gwen didn't know about the whole magic business, but she could certainly appreciate the value of doing things with one's own hands. "I see no reason why I couldn't look around," she said carefully. "Given that the area is not too large."
"No, not at all. Just a garden and a pond, really." Cosima stepped back into the hall and pushed open the front door to let a cool breeze inside. The moon was full yet again, and the night was cloudless. "It shouldn't take long at all."
After a short walk through the flowers, the pair took a seat on the grassy slope in front of the pond. Water constantly spurted from the center of it, like a fountain without stone. Gwen watched fireflies float above the water.
"May I ask you something?" Cosima said finally. Throughout the walk, they hadn't said much at all to one another.
"You may."
"What did you do to make my husband so angry? I heard about the whole 'desecration' business, but what exactly does that mean?"
"I dug a well through that mound my village calls a fairy fort. There was a reservoir underneath it, and my people needed the water."
"And what happened to the others who helped you?"
"I built it myself. Everyone else was too afraid of super—" She stopped herself. "I was about to say ‘superstition,’ but I suppose I know better now. I managed to finish it before being stolen away, at least."
Cosima squinted at her. "Are you— are you real?" She dissolved into helpless laughter. "You're telling me that you're the selfless hero of your village — and now you're here to slay the wicked Fairy King?"
"I haven't said any of that." Gwen frowned. "You are making entirely too much of it. I'm only doing what is right."
"Sure." Cosima gave her a half-smile. "I believe you."
Gwen didn't retort, but instead asked a question of her own. "Why are you so insistent on helping me? It seems that this carries nearly as much risk for you."
Cosima stared at the rippling, luminous water. "Can't I be 'just doing the right thing,' too?" Gwen said nothing. "The truth is, I'm angry. I'm so tired of hearing my husband crow about all of the 'ingrates' he's punishing, and all the 'trespassers' he's executed. None of you did anything wrong."
She threw up her hands. "It's grass, for gods' sake. You can walk on it. And who wants a bunch of saucers of milk anyway? He just looks for reasons to be cruel." She put her arms around her folded knees and rested her head on them. "I'm not much better, really. I entertain the occasional mortal and then I toss them right back. How many of my companions have ended up on my husband's chopping block somewhere down the line? All because I didn't bother looking after them."
Gwen thought that sounded well-intentioned enough, if rather self-centered. "When we succeed in overthrowing the King, it will be your responsibility to be kinder and more just than he was."
"I will be. That's a promise." She smiled up at Gwen. The moonlight made her eyes glow just like the fireflies. "I can't pretend that this wasn't about you, too. You were just the kick in the ass I needed to actually do something. And… you truly are very lovely." Her deep yellow eyes glowed.
"I, er—" Gwen shifted uncomfortably. "Thank you, I suppose." A sudden warm touch on her hand made her jump. Cosima leaned in close, and Gwen felt a familiar wave of desire wash over her.
"Perhaps, if everything goes well, we'll find a bit more time to ourselves," she whispered, her lips soft on Gwen's ear. "I'm looking forward to it."
Gwen gathered all of her (admittedly plentiful) willpower and put a hand on Cosima's shoulder. "Stop," she said so forcefully that Cosima backed away and the urge inside her died. "Never do that again, do you understand me?"
Cosima gaped at her, completely flabbergasted. "I-I'm sorry," she said, "I-I thought you wanted—"
"I don't." Gwen stood up and glared down at her. "I was not interested when we went to sleep, I was not interested immediately after being abducted, and I am not interested now." Gwen tried to rein in her anger some at the sight of the total shock on Cosima's face. "I don't want to have to speak so harshly, but whatever compulsion you keep trying to subject me to must stop. I need to know that I can trust you if we are to fight this foe together."
Cosima shakily got to her feet. "O-Of course. I'm so sorry — it won't happen again."
Gwen thought for a moment. "Swear to me," she said, "that I can trust you. Fey cannot lie, correct? So promise me."
Cosima cocked an eyebrow. "See, that's what gets you humans in trouble. You go around making pacts like that."
"What do you—"
"You can trust me, Gwen. You can do all sorts of things. You can believe you're a duck, or you can tell me to take a walk off of a cliff. But that doesn't make it true or binding. Any fairy can tell you that you can trust them. That's up to you, isn't it?"
Gwen opened her mouth to speak, frustrated, but Cosima kept going. "Here's what I will promise you. I promise you that I will do everything in my power to get you safely back to your home in the mortal world, and to dethrone my husband once and for all. I will protect you with everything that I have — even my life. That is my promise."
Gwen navigated carefully through the sentence. "All right," she said. "Thank you. I only hope it will not come to that."
"I guess that depends on me,” said Cosima with a little laugh. She looked up at the moon. "I'm afraid we're out of leisure time. We need to get ready."
Back inside, Cosima threw open the bedroom closet doors with unnecessary relish. Gwen was immediately overwhelmed by the vast array of clothing. There were garments of all colors, materials, and inclinations hanging from enormous round racks. Cosima waved her hand, and one began to slowly spin. "Have at it," she said.
Gwen turned away, feeling dizzy. "Just— Just choose something for me. Nothing too gaudy, please." She looked over her shoulder. "Perhaps something with ‘maximum charm.’" Gwen expected Cosima to laugh, but she looked almost hurt.
"Sure," she said, her voice flat. "Anything you want. Just give me a moment and I'll be right out." Gwen took the unspoken hint and retreated to the bedroom. She leaned on the sill of the round window and gazed up into the night sky.
"How long has it been?" she said to herself. Gwen knew from the stories that a person spirited away to the fairy realm could come back years, even decades later. A sick feeling settled in her stomach as she thought of the village trying to get along without her. Before her thoughts could rove to darker places, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She whipped around, furious, but Cosima was unfazed.
"I did call for you this time," she said, "but obviously your mind was elsewhere."
"Home," Gwen said. "I just want to finish this and return as soon as possible."
Cosima looked away, nodding. She was already dressed in a more modest gown made up of overlapping sky-blue petals. Gwen wasn't sure what sort of flower it was this time. "What is it like? Your village?"
Gwen told her. She told her about the sound of the ocean on the cliffs at night, and the hard but satisfying work at the monastery. She told her about the warmth of sitting among a flock of sheep, and the chill of the sea breeze at the break of dawn. She told her about Marjorie, and the Commander, and the rest of the people that she held so dear. She told her everything. By the end of it, she was surprised to find that her eyes were wet — just a little, but still.
Cosima reached for her hand, as if by instinct, but pulled back at the last moment. "It sounds wonderful," she said softly. Her attention was drawn away by something outside. Gwen followed her gaze and saw a line of lanterns approaching through the dark trees.
"My escort is here," she said dryly. "Joy. I'll stall them while you get dressed."
"What will they do when they see me?" Gwen asked as Cosima pushed a folded set of clothes into her hands.
"This won't be the first time I've brought a human to a party." Cosima smirked. “Now hurry up — and don't forget your mask!" She waved a hand in front of her face, and a sparkling black cat mask appeared upon it. With her yellow eyes, the effect was rather convincing. Cosima vanished through the hall door.
Gwen unfolded the bundle to find a crisp white suit with glittering gold buttons and cuffs. A golden lion mask fell out of the folds. "Surely she doesn't think this will hide my identity," Gwen muttered as she buttoned up the scarlet undershirt. Gwen marveled at how perfectly the ensemble fit her, almost as if it had been tailored. Even the shoes were the right size. She had a horrible mental image of the Queen measuring her in her sleep, but eventually concluded it was probably some sort of magic. Probably.
When Gwen went outside, Cosima was arguing with one of the little wooden imps. "I know we're late, but I don't know how to explain to you how little I care," she said. Her tone brightened considerably as she spotted Gwen. "Oh, there you are! Fantastic, let's go." Gwen didn't see a carriage or any other form of transportation. There wasn't even a path, really. All that sat outside of the cottage was a sort of arched trellis, covered in vines.
Cosima caught her confused expression. "This is less than ideal," she admitted, "but we don't have time to walk. Just follow me, all right?" Before Gwen could ask for clarification, Cosima walked beneath the trellis and disappeared entirely.
Gwen stared at the empty space she'd left behind. Around her, the devils started to chatter. "The Queen is gone," they whispered. "The trespasser is all alone... The criminal is all alone..." That was all the persuasion Gwen needed. She took a deep breath and stepped through the archway.
Her foot came down rather jarringly on a cobblestone path, and above her suddenly loomed a massive castle. The silence of the forest had given way to lively conversation and laughter all around her. Cosima stood a few feet ahead, looking back expectantly.
"Phew," she said, "I'm glad you made it through all right. It can be a little, well, disorienting."
"That's an understatement," Gwen said. She caught up with Cosima, who offered a crooked elbow.
"You don't have to if you don't want to," she said, a touch of shame in her voice. Gwen considered her for a moment before shaking her head. The two of them set off towards the castle, stopping behind a line of other couples.
If Cosima had seemed strange when Gwen first laid eyes upon her, she was nothing compared to the other fey around them. The partygoers were all colors of the rainbow, bedecked in equally colorful finery. Horns of all shapes and sizes, pointed ears, and sharp teeth were everywhere. Many of the fey shared the same flat-irised eyes that Cosima had.
"What will we need to do once we get inside?" Gwen asked in a whisper.
"That will depend," Cosima whispered back, "on what His Majesty decides to do. He’ll probably make the first move, but we can't count on it. Anyway, we’ll have to separate once the ball begins."
"Separate?" Gwen asked indignantly. "The entire reason I am here at all is because you insisted we stay together!"
"I meant that I wanted to keep you within sight," Cosima hissed. "I have to sit at the head table, and you definitely shouldn't be up there. Once I find Felix in this mess, he can keep an eye on you." She walked on her tiptoes, trying to see over the crush of revelers. "Damn, I don't see him anywhere. Probably off schmoozing, if I know him at all."
Gwen hadn't realized how quickly the line was moving until she noticed that they were only two places away from the enormous entryway. Two men in identical uniforms, one blue and the other red, bowed low as they reached them.
"Your Majesty," said one.
"And... guest?" said the other. Cosima dipped her chin ever so slightly and stared him down. "And guest," he said, more definitively. The two of them turned and announced in perfect unison, "Her Majesty the Queen, and guest!" Their magically magnified voices boomed through the open doors. Gwen sucked in a breath at the sheer scale of the room before them.
The ballroom must have been nearly half the size of her village. The floor was tiled in huge squares of black and white, and rich purple drapery hung from the walls. A glittering chandelier, bedecked with black crystals and sparkling with candlelight, hung from the center of the ceiling. Tables that were as long as houses were placed throughout the room, filled to bursting with foods that Gwen couldn't even identify. Cosima had to nudge her to get her to keep walking.
"Disgusting, I know," she said under her breath. "And we have balls and feasts far too often." The two proceeded down a long violet carpet that led through the center of the throng. Gwen nearly ran into Felix, who had appeared in front of them in his usual fashion. He glanced between the two of them from behind his scaled green mask. Gwen suddenly realized it was meant to be a snake.
"Good evening, Your Majesty." He smirked. "And 'guest.'" He took Gwen's hand and bent to kiss it, but she snatched it away before he could manage to do so. "Let's get you out of the spotlight, shall we? At least until the King drags you back into it."
"Thank you so much," Cosima murmured. "I'll check in as soon as I can." Her eyes lingered on Gwen just a moment longer before she turned away. "Wren, dear!" she called to someone in the crowd ahead. "I'm so glad you could make it! How's your father?" She melted away into the other guests.
Felix wisely decided not to take Gwen's arm and instead swept his own out to indicate the way. The two of them squeezed through to Felix's table, which was very near the front. "I have someone I'd like you to meet," he called to a broad, bronze-skinned man sitting on the end. "Barnabus, Guest. Guest, Barnabus. I believe you two will have a lot in common! Now, if you'll excuse me, I see someone important that I need to compliment. Be back shortly!"
Gwen carefully slid into the chair next to the man. "My name is Gwen," she said, raising her voice to be heard over the din. She looked him over and realized something surprising. "Are— Are you human as well?"
"S'far as I can tell," said Barnabus with a shaky smile. His bear mask seemed a bit too small for him. "I guess Felix was right 'bout us havin' somethin' in common. How'd you end up here?"
"I believe I was arrested," Gwen said bitterly. "And you?"
"Not rightly sure." He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced around nervously. "I was takin' a quick catnap out in the pasture and I just sorta... woke up here. Felix's been real welcomin', though."
"That's... good." Gwen stared at the food. Her stomach was aching with hunger, but she knew that one wasn't supposed to eat fairy food...
"It's fine," Felix said from over her shoulder, making her jump. "I know what you're thinking, but you're already trapped here. You can't possibly get any more trapped just by eating an appetizer." She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "It's the truth, you know it is. Now stop sitting there like a street urchin and eat something."
Gwen reached out tentatively and picked up a roll. It was still warm, and melted butter dripped from the center. Before she could talk herself out of it, she took a bite. It was absolutely delectable. The butter tasted of honey, and the bread was as soft and pillowy as a cloud. She dabbed hurriedly at the butter running down her chin with one of the satin napkins nearby.
"Mighty good, ain't it?" said Balitmore cheerfully. He had piled his plate with all sorts of delicacies. "Not better'n Ma's cookin', but pretty darn close." Gwen nodded through another divine mouthful of bread. "But all this has got me thinkin', 'spite all'a this nice stuff, 'bout when I might be gettin' home." He slumped a little in his chair. "I'm sure Ma’s gettin' right frantic."
"I wonder the same thing myself. But it will be soon. I'll make sure of it."
Barnabus shot her a puzzled look, but he didn't have time to ask her what she meant. A fanfare of trumpets blared over the ballroom din. Everyone fell silent at once, leaving only an eerie hush.
"His Majesty," said the twin doormen, "Envenezzar, King of the Fey!"
An imposing figure entered, the doors swinging closed behind him with a wave of his hand. What Gwen could see of his face was handsome in a way that was directly opposite to Cosima, all sharp angles and lines. He was more than seven feet tall, and just as muscular as Barnabus. His skin was deep violet and slightly opalescent in the chandelier's light. He strode powerfully into the room, and Gwen's eyes went wide as two wings stretched out from his back. His mask was that of a black goat with two curving horns, with his own horns making four all together.
"It is wonderful to see you all gathered here," he said. His voice was a rich baritone that set Gwen's nerves on edge. It was simultaneously unnerving and alluring to hear. "I am especially glad to see you, my love."
"It begins," murmured Felix. "Prepare yourself for some fireworks."
Gwen searched the room for Cosima, finally spotting her up at the front of the room. She was seated on a modest throne behind a table for two. She gazed evenly at the King. "Oh, are you?"
"You see, you have something that belongs to me. Or rather, someone." Gwen bristled at the very insinuation, but Cosima remained calm.
"She doesn't belong to you, darling." The last word dripped venom. "She belongs in her village. I'm formally clearing her of all of your charges, seeing as they're nonsense. The human Gwen is free to go, as far as I'm concerned." The King stepped towards her, finally reaching the table and the second, larger throne. She stood to face him, though he towered over her by a good two feet. "And I'd just love to hear what you're going to do about it."
This earned a wave of murmuring from the other fey. "As always," said the King, "I am struck by your passion for your... pets. But this mortal is my mercy, not yours. You have no say in the matter at all, save for with my permission — and insulting me is no way to earn my permission."
"Fine. Then I will earn it." Cosima raised her chin. "It's been a long time since we've had a wager, isn't it?"
This brought even more of a reaction from those around them, including a smattering of applause. Envenezzar's throaty laugh quieted them again. "I suppose you are right. It has been a long time. If you wish to gamble for this 'Gwen's' freedom, what shall our game be?"
"A duel." A variety of soft sounds rippled through the ballroom. Some were shocked gasps, while others were conspiratorial titterings. "If you feel up to it, of course."
The King unfurled his wings to their full length. "I will take up your challenge. However, let us make things more... interesting."
Cosima narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Instead of fighting amongst ourselves, I propose a duel of champions." He looked out over those assembled. "Why not let this mortal vie for her own release?"
Cosima's calm shattered. "No," she said, shaking her head, "absolutely not—"
"I accept!" Gwen leapt to her feet, tore off her mask, and threw it onto the table. Every head in the room swiveled towards her. "I accept the terms of the duel. I will do it tonight, if I must."
"Tomorrow!" Cosima said hurriedly, turning back to Envenezzar. "Tomorrow. You choose your champion, and I'll prepare mine."
"That seems fair enough. Very well, tomorrow. I will have my servants construct an arena for that very purpose." He held out his hand, and she shook it. As soon as she did, he swept her into a deep kiss. From Gwen’s vantage, she was close enough to see the Queen’s shoulders tense.
Applause echoed around the room as Envenezzar faced the partygoers. "I am sure you have all had time to enjoy your meal. Without further ado, let us move on to the dancing!"
With a sweep of his hands, the tables and chairs disappeared downwards into the floor. Fortunately Gwen was already standing, but poor Barnabus nearly tumbled to the ground. She grabbed his hand and helped to steady him.
"That was awful brave of ya," he said.
"I have been told that a lot lately." Gwen put her hands on her hips. "I'm only annoyed by the delay."
Nearly everyone else in the room had started to pair up around them. Four of the guests stepped up to the dais and instruments materialized in their hands. A fifth held her hands aloft and began to conduct them. Music filled the ballroom.
Felix touched Gwen’s arm. “Stay close,” he said quietly as he brushed past her to get to Barnabus. “And don’t take up anyone on their offer to dance. If you aren’t careful, you could end up waltzing for all eternity.”
“E-Eternity?” Barnabus asked as Felix took his hands.
“I’m hurt,” Felix said. “Haven’t I treated you well so far? I just want to enjoy your company, that’s all.” The two swirled away from Gwen, into the throng. Gwen made a beeline for the wall and leaned against it. Her leg bounced impatiently.
Cosima was across the room, sharing her first dance with the King. He spun her deftly before pulling her back into his embrace. The sight made Gwen’s skin crawl. Her mind, unbidden, showed her the kiss they had shared just a few moments ago. They waltzed a little closer, and Cosima looked up. She said something to Envenezzar and the two broke apart. The dancers moved out of the way as Cosima headed in her direction.
“You deserve at least one dance for your valor,” she said. “If it doesn’t make you too… uncomfortable, I guess.” She held out a hand, her eyes unsure.
Gwen pressed her lips into a tight line. “I— I don’t know how,” she admitted.
“That doesn’t matter. I’ll lead you.”
Gwen stared down at Cosima’s offered hand. Finally, she took it. Cosima gently moved Gwen’s hand to her waist and the other to rest on her shoulder. “We’ll take it slow, and we can stop whenever you want to.” Gwen soon found herself falling into the even rhythm. Her feet, at first clumsy, now matched Cosima’s easy stride. She was slowly guiding them towards the back of the room.
“This is not as hard as I thought it might be,” Gwen said. For some reason, she was keen to fill the silence between them. “I suppose it uses footwork similar to swordplay.”
Cosima glanced around. Satisfied no one was paying them any mind, she glared at Gwen. “Why did you do that? Why did you encourage him?” Her lips twisted into a furious snarl. “You know that I’m trying to keep you safe, don’t you? You don’t have to sabotage me!”
Gwen stiffened. “We had no choice,” she said. “If you had not agreed to his terms, he would not have agreed to the wager at all. What would you have done then?”
“I would have figured something out! He’s my husband, I know him well enough to goad him into a wager!” Her golden eyes scanned Gwen’s face. “You have to understand that he’s going to kill you. He’s going to choose a champion who’s going to destroy you, and I’m going to have to watch.”
“Do you truly think so little of me?” Gwen said in a voice so hard that Cosima stumbled mid-step. “As I told you before, I am not a helpless damsel in need of defending. In my village, I am a warrior. I have protected my people, day and night, since the day could first hold a sword.” She tightened her grip on Cosima and pulled her closer. “I will fight, and I will win. You just have to trust me.”
A soft pink glow rose in Cosima’s inky cheeks, and her eyes widened. “All right,” she whispered. “I trust you.” She shook her head as if to clear it and looked away. “Don’t waste my efforts, then. Since I went to all this trouble, the least you can do is survive.”
Gwen’s lips twitched into a smile. “I suppose so. I will try my best.”
“Thank you. Now, let’s cross paths with Felix and we’ll swap partners. I have some strategizing to do.”
Gwen and Barnabus gave up on dancing, as neither of them could do it without a competent lead. They were hovering in the corner, deep in discussion about warm-weather food storage, when Felix strode up to them. He seemed to be agitated about something.
“You,” he said, looking at Gwen. “I need your assistance.”
“Gwen,” said Gwen, monotone.
“Whatever.” He pointed across the room to an adjoining doorway. The King and Queen walked arm in arm into the hall. “That isn’t good. Someone needs to keep an eye on them, and I’ll be missed. No one in their right mind wants to talk to you, so you’re uniquely qualified for the job.”
“You want me to spy on them?” Gwen asked, folding her arms.
“Obviously. Oh, damn, you can’t hide your presence. Useless.” Felix rummaged around in his suit jacket before withdrawing what seemed to be a green marble. He thrust it at Gwen. “Crush it, and no one will be able to sense you for the next thirty seconds. Use it to find a good hiding spot, all right?”
“Understood,” Gwen replied, not entirely sure why she was going along with this. Then again, she did want to know what the two of them were doing, all by themselves… She banished those thoughts to the back of her mind again. “And how do I know when to stop listening in? Shall I follow them all night?”
“Oh, don’t be obtuse. Just make sure they’re not going back there to try to murder one another and then report back. And quickly.”
Gwen looked uncertainly down at the marble, crushed it in her hand, and started running. She skirted along the far wall into the hallway, passing the two royals and dashing into the space ahead of them. It was a narrow chamber, adorned with suits of armor and wide, sweeping tapestries of forest scenes that alternated between marble columns. A purple carpet muffled her steps as she slipped behind one of the wall hangings. She settled into place just as her body flickered back into view. Gwen let out a soft sigh of relief and peered out from behind the heavy fabric.
Cosima and Envenezzar walked in step, slowly approaching the enormous window at the end of the room. They had discarded their masks on the ground near the entrance. Cosima stopped and looked up at him.
“I think I know what your answer will be already,” she said, “but I’d like to propose an adjustment to the wager. I’d like to bargain for a handicap.”
“A handicap? Out of the question. You wanted a wager, and you shall have it. There is no backing out now, my dear. Anything else would be simply unfair.”
“What’s unfair is that you changed the dueling tradition at the last minute. You’re dangling my prize in front of me, with twice the chance that you’ll snatch it away. You just want to see me suffer.”
“I am already being charitable. Need I remind you that you stole from me, destroyed one of my servants, and embarrassed me in front of my court? Frankly, you should be grateful that I am playing your games at all.”
“You can just say it, you know. That you’re too cowardly to challenge me directly.” Cosima’s eyes narrowed. “Actually, no. You don’t. I can already smell the fear on y—“
In a motion so quick and brutal that Gwen couldn’t help but suck in a breath, Envenezzar slammed Cosima into the wall. One hand pressed over her mouth and the other was at her throat.
“I would keep that silver tongue of yours in your head,” he growled, “if you wish to keep either. I have indulged you thus far because I know all too well of your strength and the strength of our union, but do not test me. You will not like what you find beyond the limits of my patience.”
The two of them were mere feet from Gwen’s hiding spot. She clenched her fists, her blood boiling. Every inch of her buzzed with the urge to intervene. As soon as the thought entered her mind, though, Cosima began to smolder. Her hands caught fire, and she clenched them around Envenezzar’s wrists. The flames licked at his shirtsleeves until he was forced to let go of her with a cry of pain and frustration.
“Oh, yes,” she said poisonously, “I’m so intimidated. You can push me around and talk all you like, but you still know that I’m stronger than you are.”
“I know that you believe that,” he said, but he made no motion to attack her again. Cosima took a few careful steps back — and suddenly locked eyes with Gwen. The fractional change in her expression was enough to tell Gwen that her hiding spot wasn’t as concealing as it needed to be. Envenezzar must have noticed it, too, because he started to turn. Cosima grabbed his arm.
“Fine,” she said. “If you came here tonight to engage in foreplay, then allow me to finish what you started.” She yanked him forward so that his body pressed hers against one of the columns and pulled him into another kiss. Her hands roamed over his body, tearing at his jacket until a few buttons came loose and tumbled to the ground.
As his head dipped to her throat, Cosima looked intently at Gwen over his shoulder. “Get out,” she mouthed. “Leave!”
Gwen fled the hall.
~
“I hope you aren’t under the delusion that she did this for you, or some other drivel,” Felix said. He leaned back in his chair and took another sip of tea. Gwen’s hands trembled around her own cup. They had gone back to the cottage after Felix had dropped Barnabus off at his own estate. “I’m sure she’s doing it for one last hurrah. After all, this is the last chance she has at getting a piece of His Majesty — if all goes according to plan, of course.”
Gwen glared at him, saying nothing.
“What? Even I would jump at the chance.” Felix smiled thoughtfully. “Relax, would you? She’ll be back soon enough. No matter what, I won’t be worried until tomorrow evening. For now, I’ll settle for just being jealous.”
Gwen stood up abruptly and slammed her cup onto the table so hard the handle snapped off. “I’m going to bed,” she said.
“Breaking Her Majesty’s china won’t improve your mood!” called Felix after her. She threw open the bedroom door and closed it behind her with a bang.
Gwen tripped over her makeshift bed on the floor and reflexively kicked at it. The pillow flew a good five feet. Gwen kicked the comforter again and again until it was a crumpled pile. She stalked around the room, restless, stripping down to her underthings and tossing clothes left and right. None of the tantrum made her feel any better. Her mind kept replaying scenes from the night, and conjuring up terrible new ones. The thought of the King with Cosima, the thought of his hands on her, sent a hot fury racing through Gwen’s veins.
A morning breeze from the slightly ajar window made her whole body shiver. Gwen finally crawled under the covers on the royal bed and curled up into a ball. She shoved her head under the blankets to block out the dawn’s light and prayed that exhaustion would overtake her.
Gwen blinked, and the room was suddenly dark. Her body felt heavy and her limbs leaden, and the fog in her head told her that she had been asleep for some time. The pitch blackness of the room could only be for one reason.
“Cosima?” she asked in a whisper.
“Yes,” said a familiar voice from the floor. “I’m here.”
Gwen felt for the edge of the bed and peered over, but her eyes still couldn’t adjust. “What are you doing down there?” she hissed.
“Oh, don’t give me that. You know exactly why. You would have lost your mind if I’d snuggled up next to you in your sleep.”
Gwen couldn’t argue with that. “It is your bed,” she said, lamely. “I suppose you should be allowed to sleep in it.”
“I’m not going to kick you out when you’ve gotten all cozy.”
Gwen frowned. “Very well. I will stay here, as long as you stop being so foolish.”
She felt the bed shift as Cosima slipped onto it. It was still so dark that Gwen couldn’t see her, but she could tell that Cosima was lying on the very edge. “You’re going to fall off. I just asked you to stop being foolish, didn’t I?”
She moved a bit closer, and Gwen started to feel the heat radiating from her body. “Better?”
“Better.” Gwen couldn’t help herself. She reached out to try to find Cosima’s shoulder, but her fingers brushed a lower patch of skin instead. Cosima let out a short, soft gasp of pain. Gwen’s stomach turned. “Did he… did he hurt you?” she asked after an agonizing silence.
“Only in the ways I asked him to,” she said. Her answer only made Gwen feel sicker. “I can sense your contempt. First you judge me for not sleeping with my husband, but now that I have you’re just as scornful.”
“That isn’t— I’m not—“
She laughed humorlessly. “Felix told me how upset you were, so I shouldn’t tease, but… I don’t know why you’re letting this bother you.”
“He’s an evil man, Cosima. That is why it ‘bothers’ me.”
“I know that. I certainly know that better than you, so I don’t need your sermonizing. It was a moment of weakness.” She sighed. “And it’s not like he’s going to go easy on you because of what happened between us.”
“Is that why…?“ Gwen couldn’t finish her sentence. Her throat felt tight.
“No, that’s not why. It had nothing to do with you.” Cosima’s hand successfully found hers in the darkness. “I’m sorry for every second you thought it did.” She squeezed ever so slightly. “Now, try and get back to sleep. You need as much rest as you can get before tomorrow’s duel.”
Gwen’s head swirled with a thousand things she wanted to say, or ask, or do. She couldn’t make any sense of any of them. Instead, she tugged her hand out of Cosima’s grip and rolled over to the other edge of the bed. “Goodnight,” she said quietly.
“Goodnight, Gwen.”
~
Gwen woke to the smell of breakfast. She turned over to find that she was alone. Outside, the moon was already nearing its nightly peak. Gwen was still groggy, but she rolled out of bed regardless and shuffled towards the closet. To her immense relief, the cream blouse and navy skirt (along with the necessary undergarments) were already hanging from the door. She didn't think she had the fortitude to face that maze of clothing after the night she'd had — and the night she was about to have.
Gwen slipped out of her clothes in the bathroom and cautiously approached the tub. She poured some of the amber liquid over her hair and rubbed it in before stepping into the path of the waterfall. The weight of the water was so much that it nearly knocked her over, and it was exceedingly hot, but she managed to get her hair some semblance of clean.
She worked out the tangles with an ivory comb she found sitting near the washbasin. It already held a few curly black hairs. To her chagrin, there was nothing around that would hold her hair in its usual ponytail. She dressed with uncharacteristic slowness and spent a few moments hesitating in front of the closed hall door. Taking a deep breath, she pushed it open.
The lamps were all lit, filling the hall with a cheerful glow. Gwen found it entirely inappropriate. She followed the now-mouthwatering smell to the dining room and soon spotted Felix with his customary cup of tea. He cast her a sidelong glance.
"Ah, if it isn't the moral guardian," he said. "Would you like to take a guess at my sins for the evening?"
"I'm hardly in the mood," Gwen said with a glower. "Where is—"
"In there, playing chef de cuisine. I'm sure she'll be out any minute." He gestured to a narrow door in the back of the dining room. "Either way, the shouting has stopped. I have absolutely no idea what's gotten into her."
As if on cue, Cosima bustled out of what Gwen assumed was the kitchen. She had donned a similar sweater and leggings, this time in deep purple and charcoal. Her arms were full of barely-balanced plates. As she caught Gwen's eye, she nearly dropped one of them.
"You're awake," she said briskly. With a set of quite deft movements, she laid her burden on the table in a neat bunch. "Fantastic. Eat up — there's more coming." She turned to the half-open door. "At least there'd better be, you little matchstick!"
"Yes, Your Majesty! R-Right away!" The squeaky voice sounded terrified. Felix pilfered a biscuit while Cosima was distracted.
Cosima looked over her shoulder at Gwen. "What are you waiting for? We have a lot to do and not much time to do it."
"I— thank you." Gwen certainly didn't care for her curtness, but she did remember that she had only had a roll since she had arrived in the fey realm.
She was surprised by how quickly things disappeared into her mouth. While she ate, Felix withdrew a scroll from his breast pocket. He tossed at the far wall, and it stuck. The scroll ballooned outwards until it was the size of a large picture window, and words bled up through the paper in emerald ink. Felix retrieved a pointer from behind his ear. He indicated a drawing on the far side of the parchment with a sharp smacking sound.
"These are the possibilities for your opponent tonight." The drawing was of a very short man with a sort of sleazy expression. He was dressed in garish, out-of-date finery and was brandishing a knife. "This is Dirk... something or other, I can't be bothered to remember. He's one of Envenezzar's more tasteless lackeys. His specialty is powerful dark magic, though he can probably only take a single blow from someone in your athletic shape."
"Why would he send Dirk?" Cosima interrupted. She flopped down into one of the chairs in a very unqueenly manner. "He hates Dirk."
"Good opportunity to get rid of him?" Felix said with a raised eyebrow. "I couldn't say. This is merely my conjecture. Anyway, Dirk will try to keep you at a distance so he can blast at you with no threat of repercussion. Your job is to close that distance as quickly as possible."
"He also likes to think that he's much smarter than he is. If he tries to trap you and you can see it coming, pretend to fall for it. He'll probably let his guard down after that."
Gwen nodded through a mouthful of fried potatoes.
"Another potential contender is Vezyth." The parchment shifted to a different picture and accompanying text. This was another man, but certainly more conventionally handsome (and significantly taller). Gwen could feel his leer, even though he was only made of ink. "Vezyth is our best-case scenario. His main tactics are disorientation, charm, and seduction. As you have so handily shown Her Majesty here, you aren't terribly susceptible to that kind of thing."
Cosima looked away sharply, soft color filling her cheeks. "Vezyth is a son of a bitch, but he's persistent," she said, changing the subject. "He's also more hardy than Dirk. This will be a long fight, if it happens, but he won't be able to pull his favorite tricks. You'll have the advantage."
"He is more… supernatural than my usual opponent," Gwen said, "but I should have little trouble dispatching him."
"Someone's confident." Felix smiled, but it was a rather unpleasant one. "Keep that up, will you?" Felix tapped the parchment one more time and the whole spread changed again. The picture took up most of it, and it was a sight to behold. A massive, hulking creature that looked like a monstrous horse loomed there, its savage expression devoid of any humanity or reason. It held an enormous club, spattered with gore.
"This," Felix said, his snide tone gone, "is Equirax." He stopped short and stared at the creature in ink.
"... What shall I do when facing it?" Gwen asked at last.
"Pray," said Cosima, very softly. "In fact, start now. Pray that you don't have to fight Equirax."
Gwen shifted uncomfortably under the creature's fierce gaze. "Understood."
"But that's enough doomsaying. I have something for you, Gwen." Cosima stood and beckoned for Gwen to follow. The latter put down a Danish rather reluctantly and walked into the Queen's bedroom once more. Cosima opened the closet door, not without some degree of flourish, and revealed a full set of shining silver armor.
"I can't actually touch this, being a ‘dark fairy’ and all," she said, "so you're on your own for putting it on. As for your sword..." All of a sudden, a look of pure fear flashed across her face. "Well... Felix was kind enough to ask his date last night to forge it for us along with the armor. It turns out the young man is a talented blacksmith where he's from. We've had to store the sword away in the garden. Frankly, I can't even be near the thing, or I'll get quite ill."
"Iron," Gwen said in sudden realization.
"Cold iron," Cosima clarified. She shivered. "Even thinking about it makes my head hurt. But it's your best chance to defeat whoever my husband puts in front of you." She smirked. "Or my husband, actually."
"Thank you," Gwen said sincerely. She gazed at the well-crafted armor, covered in twisting vines and blooming flowers. "It's... beautiful. And you must have risked a lot to get it for me."
"Felix's the one who risked his life. I just 'owe him for the rest of time,'" Cosima chuckled. "But I'm very glad you like it."
"I should put it on now, to become accustomed to it. And I can retrieve the sword myself. The more time I have to understand its weight and feel, the better." She glanced over at Cosima. "At the risk of offense, I would rather practice alone."
"No offense taken. Felix and I will occupy ourselves just fine." Cosima hesitated, as if she was deciding what to say. "I'll come get you when it's time to go, so... let me know if you need anything out there." Gwen nodded in the affirmative, and Cosima excused herself.
It took her nearly a half hour to don the full plate armor. Fortunately, the arming doublet and breeches fit her just as well as her ordinary clothes had. The armor was surprisingly lightweight, and the joints had been well-designed. She could move very nearly as if she was wearing no armor at all.
Gwen was glad to find that the round pane of glass in the window swung open easily, frame and all. She wasn't exactly keen to hear any cooing over her appearance. It was a waste of precious time — and after all, no one had ever bothered to tell her just how long she had to practice.
The garden was aglow with fireflies and the roundness of the moon. Despite her stay of a few nights, it never seemed to change phases from total fullness. Gwen stared up at it for a long moment.
I wonder, she thought, if time perhaps stands still here. How many moons are passing over the monastery? But such thoughts were useless to her. The only way to find out was to earn her passage home.
Gwen pressed further into the garden, and soon found her quarry: a long wooden box sitting among the lilies. She opened it to find her sword. It was so dark gray as to be nearly black, and quite long. The blade held no shine at all. Gwen reached out to touch the flat of the sword, but jerked her hand backwards as soon as her fingertips brushed it. The sword emanated such cold that she had felt it through her armored gloves, gloves that were now dusted with frost.
"Well, what good is this?" she said aloud. "How am I to even use the accursed thing?" She elected instead to grip the sword around the hilt, and found that it had no such effect. From the guard downwards, the sword was made of a different metal. A brief examination told Gwen that it, too, was silver.
"Very well," she murmured. "I must take caution. This duel won't allow for any rash attacks." Gwen picked up the sword and moved automatically into her usual stance. Her mouth dropped open. The weight, the balance, the feel — all of it was identical to the weapon she'd used for years. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine easily that it was the exact same sword. Magic, she thought with slightly begrudging awe.
Gwen went through her warm-up paces with ease. She adjusted her strikes for a very short opponent, and then one that was very tall. Her feet moved like lightning over the grass, the balmy night air rushing in and out of her lungs.
She feinted left, slashed right, and rolled nimbly to avoid some imagined blow. Her riposte, thrust, and parry forms were all without flaw. She performed them over and over, her motion effortless and swift. Gwen got a running start and leapt up and over the nearest flowerbed, striking with the aerial downward slash that had struck fear into the heart of every bandit in the county — and then stopped many of those hearts forever.
Gwen straightened, breathing hard, as she heard a soft sound from behind her. Cosima stood on the cottage's doorstep, applauding. She had already dressed for the event. She wore a strapless, plunging gown that seemed to be made of huge, bright azure butterfly wings. The folds held a pattern of thick black lines that made the wings look like stained glass. She had on black gloves that went up to her elbow, and nestled in her hair above her horns was a delicate circlet of golden vines.
Gwen's heart sank. She hadn't realized how short time really had been. "I hope that was sufficient," she called.
Cosima shook her head, wincing away a bit as Gwen brandished the sword. "Not time yet. I just wanted to observe, if that doesn't bother you."
"No more than usual," Gwen said, deadpan.
"You'd better be nice to me," Cosima said with mock severity. "No matter what happens tonight, we don't have much time left together." She took a step forward, but stopped as a shudder ran through her whole body. "I guess I'll just watch from up here."
"No need." Gwen returned to the wooden chest and placed the sword inside. Cosima let out a sigh of relief and came down the garden path. She passed Gwen, going back to the edge of the pond.
"Speaking of being nice..." Cosima made a face at the awkward wording. "I wanted to apologize. Again. I was too hard on you last night. I was the one who'd 'fraternized with the enemy,' so to speak, and you didn't deserve getting shouted at."
"That was shouting?" Gwen shot her a dubious look as she followed her to the shore. "I have been scolded more harshly by children."
"Really? How did you manage that?"
"I trod on a sandcastle." Gwen couldn't help but smile at the memory of the angriest toddler she'd ever seen. "The tide was coming in, anyway. I only hastened the inevitable."
Cosima snorted. "You're terrible." She looked Gwen over with a small smile. "My, my. You look like something out of... well, out of a fairy tale. The brave knight, about to smite the evil king."
"I do not mind the comparison. That is what will happen — though I cannot say my motivation is to protect your honor."
"Ha ha, very funny." Her expression grew serious. "Gwen, I... I need to tell you something. My husband will make me swear not to intervene with your duel. Once I promise him that, it's literally impossible for me to help you."
"I will keep that in mind, though it does not change much. I assume that you're trying to persuade me to take this seriously."
"It's more than that." Cosima squeezed her eyes shut. "I can't lose you, Gwen. I can’t. Even if I overthrow my husband, even if I manage to kill him, it won't mean anything if you're hurt — or worse — because of it."
"That's nonsense," Gwen said. "I'm prepared for whatever happens. I need you to be as well."
Cosima pressed on, paying her no mind. "The way I feel about you, it’s— it’s different." Her eyes shone, and her hands balled into fists. "This is deeper than simple attraction, or just wanting to — to sleep with you. I can't stand the thought of you going into this risky, insane gambit without understanding. And I know you don't feel the same way that I do, and I know that you probably hate me for saying it, but—"
"Don't—" Gwen began, but it was too late.
"I love you."
"I know." Gwen surprised herself with how quickly she said it. "I know. And I... I don't hate you." She had braced herself for the familiar, overwhelming feeling of desire, but it had never come. All that hung in the air was a sense of desperate pining.
“We have known each other for less than a week,” Gwen said, not unkindly.
Cosima didn’t look at her. She only stared up at the stars for a long while. “Maybe I’m lonelier than I thought.” She sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead. "I've made a fool of myself, all over again. I'm very predictable."
"I prefer this to having your feelings forced upon me." Gwen cast her an aside glance. Tears were pouring down Cosima's cheeks, and she sniffled a little. "Oh, compose yourself. Do you want to dethrone the king with puffy eyes?"
"Ass," Cosima said, but she was laughing through the tears. She waved her hand and a kerchief appeared between her fingers. "Oh, something else for you." She waved her other hand and offered it to Gwen. On her palm lay a long, white ribbon. "You had your hair up the first night. I thought you might want to keep it out of your eyes."
"I do, thank you." Gwen drew her hair back and felt immediately better. She tied a neat bow around her auburn curls and shook her head experimentally. The ribbon held fast. After a moment of thought, Gwen braided her hair into a long plait, wound it around, and tied the remaining ribbon around the resulting bun.
"A good look," Cosima said lightly. She dabbed at her eyes and cheeks before adopting a snooty tone. "Alas, there is no time for ruminating. The battle awaits us. I imagine my husband's servants will arrive within the hour." She returned to normal, giggling. "Is there anything else we can do for you? Or something you'd like to do yourself?"
"Truth be told, I could use more training time."
"Understood. I'll be—"
"No, you can stay." Gwen stood and crossed to the edge of the woods. After a few seconds of searching, she snapped off an arms-length birch branch and stripped it of its leaves and twigs. She waved it at Cosima. "This will do just as well."
"Well, if it's that easy," said Cosima, "then I don't see why I can't join you." She, too, broke off a branch. She brandished it at Gwen and stepped forward in a duelist’s stance. "Training can only do so much if you aren't getting poked at by a real person."
Gwen raised a doubtful eyebrow. "Are you certain?" Her eyes flicked down to Cosima's gown.
"I might surprise you."
"Very well, but I must warn—" Cosima lunged at a dizzying speed. Gwen only barely managed to block her thrust and knock it aside with her birch stick. Undeterred, Cosima darted back out of range before Gwen could strike at her. Gwen surged after her, almost landing a blow on her shoulder, but Cosima dodged with a dancer's grace. Gwen tried a low sweep next. Cosima jumped neatly, folded her legs up, and hung suspended in the air.
"That's not—" Gwen started, but bit back her words.
"Were you going to say ‘fair’? Who said that your opponent is going to play fair?" Cosima asked with a sharp grin. She daintily touched down to earth, just in time to parry Gwen's next thrust.
She's too fast, Gwen thought bitterly. Her mind raced as she tried time and time again to even land a hit on Cosima. Finally, a strategy leapt to mind. Gwen scissor-stepped backwards. Cosima took the bait and pursued her. Gwen waited until she had built up a good bit of speed, then stopped short and ducked low. She pushed powerfully upward with her strong legs and drove her shoulder right into Cosima's chest.
Cosima let out an undignified grunt and stumbled backwards, falling flat on her rear end. Before she could recover and stand, the tip of Gwen's branch was at her throat. Gwen tilted her chin upwards with it, giving her a triumphant smile.
"Well fought," she said, panting. Her brow glistened with a thin sheen of sweat. "I couldn't be sure of my victory, even near the end."
"I'm not the Fairy Queen for nothing," Cosima replied. She couldn't help but grin as well. "But I'd sure hate to face you with your real sword."
Their post-battle glow abruptly dimmed at the sound of a small throat clearing.
"Your Majesty? Your presence has been requested at His Majesty's court, along with your champion." The little wooden imp bowed so low that the tips of its horns brushed the dirt.
"'Requested,' my ass," Cosima muttered. Still, she stood and curtsied to the little devil. "We're prepared. And our carriage?"
"Right this way, Your Majesty." The imp startled as Felix appeared next to him.
"Fabulous. Hopefully it's more comfortable than the last one."
Gwen found that it was in fact the most comfortable way that she had ever traveled anywhere. The carriage seemed to be carved from a solid block of ebony wood, with no seams or joining points to speak of. No horses led the carriage, but it seemed to move all on its own just fine with the creature at its perch. The sword was strapped securely to the footboard, still inside its protective case. The interior of the carriage was adorned in plush velvet as black as night. Cosima rolled her eyes and sighed as she settled into her seat.
"Ridiculous," she said.
Felix nodded primly. "It's as if we're riding along inside a inkwell."
"Or my husband's soul."
Felix chuckled nastily. "And velvet? Such an opulent eyesore. A textural nightmare, even. And it gets so unattractively flattened beneath one's rear."
The two looked expectantly at Gwen, and she realized that she too was meant to say something unflattering. "It's... boring," she said at last.
Cosima threw up her hands. "Exactly! The gods gave us colors for a reason. You don't have to hit us over the head with how dark and mysterious you are." She ran her fingertips over the polished window frame before snatching her hand away and making an exaggerated face of pain. "Oh, no, I've nicked myself on Envenezzar's edge."
"Phew," said Felix. He brushed exactly nothing off of the knees of his silk brocaded trousers. "Now that we've got that out of our system, we need to refresh the human on how exactly she's going to win this duel." He glanced sidelong at Cosima. "And how you’re going to have to use the ace up your sleeve very, very carefully."
"I'm aware," Cosima said, more than a bit testy. "Let's focus on Gwen. She's the one who's sticking her neck out."
The next twenty minutes were absolutely grueling. Felix threw scenario after grisly scenario at Gwen, and expected only the most airtight strategy in response. He demanded ways to avoid blasts of dark energy, ways to escape from a grapple with a variety of limbs and restraints, ways to most effectively wield the fey's most deadly weakness. He peppered her with so many questions that it made her head spin. Finally, he sat back with folded arms. His expression remained unimpressed.
"I don't know," he said sourly. "You still seem unprepared."
"It doesn't really matter what you think." Cosima turned her gaze to Gwen. "You said you would win, and I trust you. You're going to run circles around whoever's in that arena with you. I believe it with all my heart."
"That's nice," Felix said, "but I have a lot riding on this." He reached into his pocket and revealed another marble. This one was blood red. "What?" he asked at Cosima's glare. "You were the one that promised not to interfere, not me. And this is only a tiny spell." He held it out to Gwen. After a second's hesitation, she took it.
"I believe in an honorable fight," she said, "but I also believe in protecting others at any cost. This is too important to decline an advantage. I will use it if necessary."
"See? Good has been done here." Felix looked out of the wide oval window. "And now we're almost to His Majesty's arena... Last chance, everyone. They'll separate us as soon as we get out, I suspect. Now's the time for anything you'd like to say to one another."
"Felix," Cosima said, taking his hand, "if this goes badly, I want you to renounce me. Say I was weak and terrible, say you were sabotaging me in secret, say whatever you must to stay alive and well. Promise me that."
"Well, if you insist." Felix smirked.
"I was lucky to have you, no matter what happens. You... you mean a lot to me." She leaned over and wrapped her arms around him in a brief hug, one that he returned with surprising warmth.
"It's been an honor scheming with you, Your Majesty."
Cosima turned to Gwen. "I think I've already said enough to you," she said with a wan smile. "At least all that I needed to. You'll be unstoppable."
"Good luck, human," Felix said lightly.
"Thank you," Gwen said. "Both of you, for all you've done. I—" She swallowed hard. "I look forward to speaking with you again when this is all over."
The carriage rolled to a stop, and the clacking of wood heralded their driver opening the door. It smiled unsettlingly with its enormous teeth. "Your Majesty. Honored guests." It bowed once more, gesturing with a clawed hand. "His Majesty awaits."
"Thanks for the reminder." Cosima edged out past the two of them and stepped down on her own personal staircase of air. She held out a hand to Gwen, who followed her onto the cobblestone path. Felix appeared beside them in his trademark mist. Ahead of them, an enormous coliseum loomed.
"We are late, Your Majesty," the imp said, nervous.
"How can we possibly be late? The party can't start without us." Cosima sighed heavily as two other wooden devils appeared from the arena. From inside, a wave of crowd noise washed over them. Cosima reached behind her, found Gwen's armored hand, and gave it a tight squeeze. Without looking back, she followed the carriage imp through the arena's archway.
"Sir Felix," said the creature on the left. "Your box has been reserved for you. A drink?"
"Make it two." Felix glanced over his shoulder at Gwen and gave her a nod. He, too, disappeared into the entryway. The last imp looked up at her.
"Champion," it said, "follow me."
As Gwen stepped into the brightly lit ring, the crowd erupted. Cheers, booing, and laughter assaulted her from every angle. Gwen squinted in the light that was emanating from large orbs hovering in the open air above her.
"Ladies, gentlemen, all comers," said a high, flute-like voice over the noise of the crowd, "the time's upon us!" The crowd hushed at once, and the vacuum of sound set Gwen's nerves on edge.
A woman wearing a vast pink ballgown stepped up to a dais on the opposite side of the arena. Her hair was pure white and piled up on her head in a tower of oversized curls. She smiled with pearly, sharp teeth and held out her hands. "This evening, we are given the particular privilege of witnessing a duel of champions!" She paused for the tide of applause. "As you can see, Her Majesty's champion stands before us already. Tell us your name, would you?"
Gwen raised her voice to a commanding volume. "Gwen, of the village of Galerna. I swear that I will be the victor of this duel!" The fey tittered amongst themselves, and Gwen saw several impressed or intrigued faces among them. Gwen turned to the woman on the dais. "Where is my opponent? The King's champion?"
"No sign of them yet," the woman said with a shrug. "But I think I know who can answer your question." Gwen heard the tinny blare of trumpets in a familiar fanfare. "Presenting," said the woman, "His Royal Majesty, King Envenezzar!"
The King strode to the tall throne, but he did not sit. Instead, he allowed one of the trumpeters to wheel out a table with two goblets on it and place it in front of him. The trumpeter went back to his instrument to play another fanfare for Cosima, who stepped from the shadows behind the thrones. She took up her place across from Envenzzar. With a snap of her fingers, the announcer also appeared between them. She curtsied to each of them in turn.
"Your Majesty," she said to Cosima, "please state your terms."
"If my champion, Gwen of Galerna, defeats yours in combat, she will be cleared of all charges. You will let her return to her village, unharmed and never to be disturbed by our kind again."
"Agreed." Envenzzar inclined his head in assertion.
"Please state your terms, Your Majesty."
"If my champion defeats yours in combat, she will face her original charge of desecration of royal property and she will be sentenced to death — if she has not already perished by my champion's hand." Gwen gripped the hilt of her sword, her heart pounding furiously. "Along with that, I require an additional term for such unusual circumstances."
"Which is?" asked Cosima, her voice slightly strained.
"If I win this wager, you will surrender your power to me. Then, you will be executed by this human's side for your obstruction of justice." The crowd went deadly silent, and Gwen's heart stopped beating altogether. Cosima's face turned a sick, ashen gray.
"You bastard," she growled.
The King only smiled. "Is that your way of conceding? I promise that I will spare your life, should you forfeit now."
Cosima's hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Never," she said in a quiet, dangerous voice. "I accept your terms. Let's get on with it already so you can regret this, Your Majesty."
"The terms have been accepted!" the announcer said in a shakier voice than before. "Both of you agree to not interfere with this duel in any fashion, directly or indirectly. You also swear to in no way harm the other until the conclusion of the wager. Will you uphold these vows?"
"We will uphold these vows," the two said in unison. They lifted their goblets, touched them together, and drained them dry.
Something very strange happened in that moment. Cosima’s eyes filled with fire as she wagered her life on her champion without hesitation. As Gwen watched her, she felt the smallest tremor in the pit of her stomach. A warmth spread up through her chest and into her cheeks, and she realized that it was something like what she had felt before in Cosima's bedroom, and at the lakeside. But Cosima wasn't even looking at her. If this is not her doing, then…
Gwen's thoughts derailed at the sound from above her. It was like the wind through the trees, but magnified sevenfold. The floating lights shuddered in a sudden gale, and a huge shadow sailed over the moon. Gwen's gut told her to run. She scrambled out of the center of the ring and made for one of the inner walls just as an earthshaking thump nearly sent her sprawling. Gwen spun on her heel, her hand on her sword. In the center of the ring crouched a terrible creature.
"I thought it was wise to craft my own champion," Envenezzar said. His smile glinted in the light. "And this is much more exciting, is it not?"
Cosima whirled forward to the railing around the arena, but he caught her by the shoulder. With a forceful motion, he pushed her into her seat.
"Careful. We are mere observers, my dear," he said. He settled languidly into his own throne. "I hope you are most entertained."
Gwen found herself staring up at a dragon hewn entirely of wood and vines. The beast growled deep in its throat and stepped forward on polished claws. Its eyes were twin green flames, set deep in dark sockets, and its teeth were as long as spears. Its joints creaked as it continued to stalk towards Gwen. The dragon opened its mouth wide and roared. The sound spurred Gwen into action. She dove to the right, narrowly avoiding the thing's lashing tail, and moved in to strike at one of its wings.
I need to keep it from taking off again, she thought. Fortunately, Gwen's sword sank deep into the vines that connected the wooden wing to the dragon's body. She followed through, planting her feet, until the wing whipped out of her range. As it spread upwards, more vines snapped. Gwen rolled to avoid the dragon's next strike and jumped to her feet.
The dragon charged with astonishing speed. The huge jaws snapped shut mere inches from the tip of her sword. Gwen dropped to the ground, rolled nimbly beneath the huge head, and thrust upwards into the vines in the dragon's neck. Before she could slice them away, she was stomped flat.
Gwen's head buzzed with pain and a ringing in her ears as she hit the packed dirt. None of the claws had perforated her armor. Still, she was pinned in place. Gwen wriggled into the space between the claws and the foot itself and managed to wedge her weapon between them. She hacked at the tendon-like tendrils of greenery and was soon rewarded — a claw separated and fell. She clambered out of the hole it made and was soon circling the dragon once more. Battered and breathing heavily, Gwen reached for the pouch at her waist. She swiftly dipped her fingers inside and crushed the marble.
All of a sudden, she saw double. A hazy afterimage bled out of the dragon, layered perfectly on top of it. The image lunged at her — through her. Gwen realized with a start what she was seeing and darted away at the last second. The dragon bit ferociously at the spot she had just been. Gwen put a hand to her head, trying to focus. The marble was showing her where the dragon would be, a mere moment before it moved. She set herself into a firm stance. This certainly changed matters.
The second dragon ducked low raised its wings high in preparation for flight. Gwen put on a burst of speed and charged. She barely managed to scale the dragon’s leg with one hand and made it to the creature’s back just in time to bring her sword down on the rising wing. The cold iron severed the connection between wing and body.
The dragon’s scream deafened her, and she tumbled off of its back and onto the now-useless wing. Her shoulder thudded painfully against the hard polished wood. The dragon peered down at her with a cold and frightening intelligence. After but a second of consideration, it brought down one massive limb onto the curved edge of the wing. The wind ripped Gwen’s breath from her chest as she was catapulted into the air.
The crowd gasped in one voice as she sailed upwards. Disoriented, Gwen could do nothing but turn helplessly end over end in midair. Her eyes searched for something to focus on, something to center herself… and they landed on Cosima. Her face showed no sign of panic or fear — only a steely determination.
Gwen found her center. She righted herself and began her descent, her sword held high above her head. After all, this was only a little extra height on her signature maneuver.
The second image of the dragon raised its remaining wing and craned its neck up to try to snap at her. Gwen adjusted her trajectory accordingly.
This is going to hurt, she thought grimly. As foretold, the wing stretched upwards and she fell directly onto it. Gwen startled as she realized that the impact was nowhere near as jarring as it should have been. Somehow, her downward motion had been slowed just enough to avoid any serious damage. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cosima sigh in relief.
She remained on her feet and skated down the smooth wood, sword held high. The dragon obviously hadn't expected such an attack, and its head swung around to face her, but it was too late. Gwen slashed ferociously at the place where vines joined the neck to the spine. With a resounding crack, the wooden bones and thorny tendons were severed entirely. Gwen hit the ground and rolled a good ten feet, and the dragon's head and body both collapsed behind her. As she twisted around, she saw the glowing lights in its eye sockets go dark.
The crowd went berserk. Cosima was particularly excited, whooping and jumping up and down so vigorously that her breasts threatened to escape from the low-cut neckline of her gown. One person, however, wasn't fazed. Envenezzar sat motionless upon his throne. On his face was a small, patient smile. He steepled his fingers in front of him and gazed down at the fallen dragon. Gwen felt a shiver run through her body. Something wasn't right.
The announcer started to speak, but she trailed off. Before Gwen's eyes, the vines that held the dragon together were growing. They slithered outward across the arena until they joined with the severed wing and head. The vines melded and started to drag the fallen pieces back to the beast's body. Gwen took a shaky step backwards as the light reignited in the dragon's eyes and a deep growl built in its hollow chest. After no more than a minute, the dragon faced her again, entirely unharmed. No afterimage announced its movements as it barreled towards her with renewed vigor.
Gwen bolted. She made it to the far edge of the arena, beneath the place where the King and Queen sat, before her weakened leg crumpled under her. Grunting with pain, Gwen leaned on the other leg and held up her sword. Her only hope was to buy herself enough time to figure out the creature's true weakness. She braced herself and said a quick prayer under her breath—
Suddenly, a voice came from above. "Take cover, now!" Cosima landed gracefully between her and the charging dragon. Gwen had no time to process what was happening; she barely had enough time to duck behind one of the columns that lined the inside of the arena. Not a second later, a wave of heat roared past her. Gwen peered out from behind the column to see Cosima catch fire. Her whole body became a torrent of flame, and she held out her hands in front of her. Within moments, the dragon was only a scorch mark on the ground.
The fire faded, leaving only Cosima behind. She was breathing hard, her whole body tensed. The butterfly gown was gone, and she was clad only in the gauzy ashes that clung to her skin. She looked over her shoulder. "Are you all right?" she asked, her voice a little hoarse.
Gwen was drenched in sweat, and her hair felt singed at the ends, but she nodded regardless. Her eyes flickered downwards to see that a rash of frostbite covered the back of Cosima's bare calves. She staggered a bit as she turned fully around. Gwen, suddenly understanding, looked down at her sword. She tossed it away into one of the arena's alcoves, and Cosima's shoulders slumped in relief.
"How—" Gwen began, but a booming voice interrupted her.
"What have you done?" thundered the King. "This— This is impossible! You cannot break the rules of the wager!"
Cosima took a few steps backward and drew herself up to her full (modest) height. "I'm frankly surprised you hadn't figured it out by now," she said in a loud, clear voice. "My father was human. I can lie." A sound of alarm tittered up from the crowd. "I've never been bound by any contract you've made with me, or any promise, or any deal. You've never had any power over me, Your Majesty."
"How dare you," Envenezzar snarled. He jumped the railing and descended into the arena himself. "In that case, consider the terms of our agreement null and void. I will just have to execute you myself."
Cosima smiled, baring her fangs, but Gwen saw a flicker of uncertainty in it. "You can certainly try," she said. She took up the same stance that she had when Gwen had dueled her earlier, though she held no weapon.
The King laughed, a harsh and derisive sound. Without another word, he raised his arms high. A ball of crackling black energy formed between his upturned palms. He hurled it at Cosima, who sidestepped gracefully. Gwen looked frantically between the two of them.
I need the sword, she thought, but stopped herself. But if I attack too near to Cosima... From the way she'd reacted to merely being near the weapon, even grazing her with it would prove disastrous. Gwen sucked in a breath as Envenezzar brought down a beam of sickly purple energy like a guillotine, blocking Cosima's path backwards. She answered with a hail of fiery orbs that Envenzzar deflected with little effort.
"Something good came of your ruse," he said with a smile. "Your self-proclaimed 'strength' was an obvious fabrication." He stepped forward purposely, and the ground crumbled and shook beneath his feet. One of the fissures appeared just where Cosima had put her foot down and she stumbled a bit. Envenzzar took the opportunity to hit her squarely with another hurled ball of darkness. Her body absorbed it with an awful sound, and she collapsed.
Gwen hesitated no longer. She ran at the King's back and lunged at him. The second before she rammed into him, something Cosima had said before echoed in her mind. Dark fairies can't touch silver armor. Sure enough, where her armor-clad body slammed into his, hissing patches of skin rose and bubbled viscously. The King let out a strangled cry and staggered.
Cosima pushed herself up from the ground. She coughed weakly and struggled to stand; the attack had obviously hit her hard. She crossed her arms in front of her and fire shot out in a thin sheet. It struck Envenzzar and wrapped around his body. It was hot enough to burn blue across his violet skin. Gwen rolled out of range of the heat, clutching her arm where she'd banged it badly against the ground post-tackle. She swiped at his legs with her bracers for good measure, and the skin of his calf melted beneath his trousers.
Envenezzar held up a hand, and the blue inferno dissipated. He whirled on Gwen and suddenly an invisible force was lifting her by the neck. She clawed at it with her silver gloves, but her hands found nothing but air.
"Stop!" Cosima croaked from behind him. She lashed out at him with tongues of flame, but he batted them aside. "Let go of her!"
"As you wish." Envenezzar waved a hand, and Gwen went flying across the arena. She hit the ground and rolled painfully to a stop nearly twenty feet away. Fighting through the pain, Gwen tried to drag herself to her feet. It was too late. Cosima charged at Envenezzar, hands blazing, but he caught her by the wrists and slung her to the ground. He followed her down and pinned her arms with his knees. Her flames flickered and died. In his hand, a blade of the same dark purple energy materialized.
"Fey of the court," he said in a voice that was loud enough to quiet the crowd, "I want you all to witness what becomes of a usurper." Cosima thrashed and snarled in his grip like a caged tiger, but he held her fast. He turned the blade in his hand to point at her heart. Gwen pushed herself to stand. Time seemed to slow to an agonizing crawl.
"A fine attempt, my love. I admit that I was impressed. Still, you... you..." He trailed off, clearing his throat. Envenezzar's body suddenly began to shake violently.
Gwen saw her opportunity and picked up speed. She shoved the King hard off of Cosima. He crumpled to the side, hacking and sputtering. His mouth spewed sickly white foam.
"Wh... what is... this...?" he gurgled. His hands clutched his throat and his eyes bulged.
Cosima sat up with great effort. A shaky grin spread over her lips, even as blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. "Finally," she said. "Don't you remember? We drank to a good fight." She mimed raising a glass. "Mistletoe, rowan, and clover make a hell of a cocktail. Too bad the whole 'don't harm your opponent' thing didn't apply to me."
"Damn... you..." Envenezzar reached for her, but his arm fell limp. Very soon, he stopped moving altogether.
Cosima stared at his body for a long moment. Then, she stood and faced the crowd. "The King is dead," she said, her voice gaining strength as she spoke. "Anyone who takes issue with that can take it up with me. On top of that, the human Gwen is pardoned of any and all wrongdoing. She can leave whenever she likes, and she isn’t to be touched, you hear me?"
The crowd tittered uncertainly. "For now, I don't want to see any of you until at least tomorrow." Cosima waved a dismissive hand. "Shoo, all of you. Out." Audience members began to vanish left and right, fleeing the macabre scene. Soon, they were alone in the arena — for a moment, at least. Felix flashed into existence behind Cosima.
"That was messy," he said. Still, he was unable to hide the glee in his tone. "And you're aware that you're nude?"
"They can consider that a bonus," Cosima answered primly. She dusted away some of the ashes that still coated her skin. As she did so, a knitted wool frock of blue-violet formed over her body. Gwen let her eyes slide back to Cosima, her cheeks still faintly pink. Cosima seemed to notice her at last in that moment.
"Are you hurt terribly?" she asked in a small voice.
Gwen shook her head. "Only a few bumps and bruises."
Cosima started to wrap her arms around Gwen, only to leap back again. "Damn, I'd already forgotten. But you were amazing! If my husband wasn't such a duplicitous fuck, you would have taken the day all on your own!"
Gwen started doffing her armor, dropping pieces of it all over the arena floor. Once she was loose, she embraced Cosima all over again. "Even if you didn't entirely trust me, I am grateful for your help."
"It was a precaution. One I'm glad I took. But everything else I said to you was true! I know that it’s probably hard to believe me about that, given the whole… ‘being able to lie’ business, but…”
“I believe you.” Gwen’s smile was small, but warm.
“I do mean it when I say that this whole plan would have been impossible without you. I owe you a lot, Gwen. I owe you everything."
"And me," Felix said dryly. "Don't forget me."
"Who do you think I'm giving my husband's job to, you ass? You can't possibly think I want to run this place."
Felix's eyes widened and the smile dropped from his face. It reappeared in an instant as he bowed low. "At your service, Your Majesty. So long as we keep the same living arrangements."
"I don't want to marry you, if that's what you mean." She turned back to Gwen with a knitted brow. "On, uh, a related subject… I'm only going to ask you once, since I think I know what the answer will be."
Gwen read her mind. "I can't stay," she said. "I must return home. This is what we have both fought so ardently to achieve."
"Well, I figured that I'd ask, at least." She gazed at her, crestfallen. "But you're right. It's time for you to go home." Cosima took Gwen's hands and squeezed them. "With your permission, I'd like to watch over your village. I'm not much good at blessing crops, or getting chickens to lay eggs, but your hearths will always be warm and your lamps will always light. Plus, I've got a knack for killing weeds." She winked. "Would that be all right?"
Gwen nodded, giving her a genuine smile. "That would be very kind of you."
"It's my pleasure — no offerings required." Cosima took in a slow breath. "May I ask you for one more thing?"
"What is it?"
Cosima reached out and brushed a gentle fingertip over Gwen's lips. Her cheeks filled with color. "Just one, please. After all we've been through together. That's the last I'll ask of you."
Emotion swelled in Gwen's chest, a feeling that she couldn't quite identify. Her eyes softened. "Very well," she said. "Just one."
Cosima stood on tiptoes and pressed her lips to Gwen's forehead. A soft, warm sleepiness overtook her, and she drifted away into darkness.
Gwen's eyes snapped open. She was so disoriented that it took her a few seconds to realize that she was staring at swathe of grass. She sat up to find herself lying on the gentle slope of the fairy fort. The shadow of the well fell over her in the early morning sunshine. A voice rang in her ears.
"Gwen!" Marjorie ran full-tilt from the monastery, the strings of her apron flapping wildly behind her. "Gwen, you're all right! You've returned!"
A dream...? Gwen's head swam. Her eyes roved over her own body to find that she was still clad in the silver armor. Beside her, she heard another groggy moan. Barnabus rolled over and blinked blearily up at her.
"I'll be," he said in wonder. "We darn well made it."
Gwen's mind cleared enough for her heart to stutter. "How long?" she asked as Marjorie reached them. "How long have I been away?"
"Three days," Marjorie said, "that's all. Praise be, it's only been three days. What on earth are you wearing?"
"Finest armor in th' county, I'd reckon." Barnabus looked over his own handiwork. "Fits y'perfectly, if I do say myself. 'N it's pure silver to boot."
"This isn't your village—" Gwen began, but he smiled beatifically.
"I been here b'fore, and it ain't more'n a day's journey. I don't mind the walkin'." Barnabus glanced up past Marjorie and laughed. "Looks like y'got quite the posse waitin' for ya." Dozens of villagers were approaching the fairy fort, their faces lighting up with surprise and joy.
"What did I tell you?" Marjorie said, turning to them in triumph. "Gwen's tougher than any fair folk."
"We have nothing to fear from them," Gwen said. She got to her feet and smiled. "Not anymore." As the villagers surrounded her, she looked over their heads towards a splash of color that had caught her eye. Beneath her window, blooming larkspur danced in the soft breeze.
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