Roundtable redcap, p.9
Roundtable Redcap, page 9
Irina tilted her bow, beginning another song. Just as I recognized the opening notes of a song from The Pirates of Penzance, she screamed. I turned my head and made a grab right along with her, but both of us were too late. Her bow hung just out of reach, suckered on to one of the tentacles. I reached out and up, trying to wrestle it, but the boat rocked, precarious like a car on an icy mountain road. I sat back down.
Nixie kept on tapping as Irina plucked strings. It was enough to power the boat but not steel my gut. I swallowed, trying to keep the wannabe squid sashimi down until I could at least get my head over the side of the boat. I managed, but just barely.
Once the creature got Irina’s bow, it let us go. Irina put her violin back in its case, shaking her head as she gazed at the empty spot where the bow went under. The little dinghy coasted up to the pier, and Irina tied it off. I stayed for a moment, splashing water to wash my face and hands, hoping there wouldn’t be any reverse encores of my impromptu dinner. Once my stomach settled down, I got out.
“Sorry, but this is where I exit stage left.” Nixie smiled gently this time. “If you’re ever on this side of the Under again, look me up. I’d love to perform with the two of you again.”
“Thanks, Nixie.” Irina held out a finger to the Pixie. It actually shook with her. “Likewise, if you’re topside.”
Nixie gave me a salute, then dove into the gulf. I watched them vanish, a receding splotch against all that blue water. I turned back to the path and trudged on, Irina following along in glum silence.
Chapter Ten
Irina
I walked along slightly behind Fred for the second time during this whole crazy journey. I didn’t want him to notice how down I’d gotten about losing that bow. It wasn’t even the original one Grandpa had from back during WWII, but still. Without it, my limited power in the Under shrank to almost nothing. Sure, I could pluck, but that limited my song choices and didn’t seem as powerful, judging by the end of the squid fight. Maybe my pride in being able to play anything on a violin had taken an inevitable fall. But this was the worst possible time for that to happen.
I kicked small pebbles and rocks along the path, not daring to chase any that went off to the side. One of them hit Fred in the ankle, and he turned around to stand like a barricade in my way.
“Listen, we’re almost there.” He tapped one foot. But feet that big can't really tap. More like thudded. “I’m sorry for bringing you here. You’ve suffered from this whole trip more than I have.”
“Wait, what are you talking about?” I blinked up at him. “I banged up a knee and lost a bow. You’re the one forcing himself to eat and puking his guts out every time we run into trouble. And don’t pretend you didn’t get all ominous about losing your cap. Just because you think your pal Tony stole it for a good reason doesn’t eliminate the consequences for you if you don’t get it back soon.”
“Hey, if there’s a bright side, then who's got two thumbs and is gonna look on it?” Fred jerked both his thumbs at his chest. "This guy." After that, he shrugged. But this time, his easy, amiable smile went absent. “Everyone has a crutch.”
“Crutch or not, we need to face the facts here.” I put my hands on my hips. “I mean, listen to yourself. You come in here dead-set on the idea that you’ll never get back home. How are you even sane? Unless you’re lying about it.”
“You may be right. I may be crazy.” This time, one corner of his mouth turned up. But I knew that song.
“I’d rather look for a lunatic than a liar. So tell me now, which is it?” This time, I tapped my foot.
“I’m not lying.” That ghost of a grin on Fred’s face vanished. “And you owe me now.”
“What?” My eyes widened as I stared at him. His behavior made no sense like he really had lost some of his marbles. Or maybe biting the squid monster had mood-altering side-effects.
“Careful, or you’ll owe me more.” Fred actually tittered. It sounded like thumbtacks hitting corrugated tin. “You just asked me three questions during the same conversation.”
“I thought that only applied to tithed and pure faeries.”
“Normally it does, but this is the Under. And I’ve already helped you three times.” His eyes glittered, that red color in them coming on stronger.
“Fine. Great. I owe you.” I smiled in the face of Fred’s attempt at intimidation. “But you know, I don’t mind. I’ll be happy to get you and Ed out of whatever mess this is. Maybe you won’t have to stay here, except for the regular year and a day tithing time.”
“You can’t do that.” Fred closed his eyes, looking wearier than I’d ever seen him. “No one and nothing can do that unless I get my cap back.”
“Since I’m already in the hole with you, Fred, I have to know if this is right. It has to be your cap, not just any cap.”
“Has to be mine.” He nodded. “Our caps aren’t like Selkie and Kelpie pelts. They can’t be passed on.”
“Oh. Well, that sucks.” I stepped closer to him so he'd get the message. Fred Redford couldn't scare me off for my own good or any other reason. “So, like I said before, I owe you. I’m sure you have something in mind.”
“Yeah.” His gaze bored into mine. “You’re going to tell me exactly why you’re helping me.”
“That sounds like a waste of a favor.”
“It’s not.” His glare intensified. “You don’t know Ed or me from Adam. You know an awful lot about Seelie stuff. Tony didn’t take my cap to give to the queen, but some boy-toy of hers is out hunting it down, anyway. You went on about a jinx and denied the existence of the Extramagus, who I know has been messing with my friends for over five months. That crazy bastard targets pairs. I thought the duo he's hating on this time is my brother and me because nothing else adds up. So, what if you’re his pawn, or even worse, his ally?”
“I don’t get it.” I did, but he looked so focused on his theory, I didn’t think it possible to distract him from it.
“Tell me why you came to the Under, Irina.” Fred bared his teeth, his red eyes gleaming with a light that looked less than sane. “Tell me now. And if it turns out you’re working for the douchecanoe who’s been offing people, I’ll make like the shark in that Internet meme who eats faces.”
I glared right back at him, wishing I also had glowing eyes. My Empathy kicked up, making me want to turn it around and attack him. With the Psychic power making me psycho, I couldn’t just close my eyes and take a deep breath, either. I felt everything he did at that moment. His anguish, rage, confusion, all wadded up around a core of anxiety and inadequacy. Fred’s optimism, while genuine, was just one layer. Only the debt and the question he’d asked in payment stopped him from treating me like an enemy. I’d had no idea how frayed his self-control had gotten during our journey, but now I shared it because that was just my flavor of Psychic. Luckily, I also got that thin leash of faerie custom. It was more than enough to rein me in.
“Fine.” My hands clenched into fists, nails digging into my palms. It brought some semblance of myself back from Fred’s emotional turmoil. “What’s happening to Ed almost happened to me. The difference is, the queen never managed to get me into the Under.”
“How?”
“Because my parents were Psychic and also changelings. That was why they waited so long to have me. They held off until I was old enough not to need both of them all the time because they tithed opposite Courts.”
“Who even does that?” Fred blinked.
“A couple who thought they could change ages of Monarchal ill-will with their love. They’d both had the same vision, something about how examples of love prevailing would shift coincidence and reunite the king and queen. And it didn’t, of course.”
“So, where are they now?”
“I’ll get to that. When the queen tried to convince me to go with her, my father said no. She went to strike him down, and my mom got in the way. She pushed him out of the way. They were forbidden from touching, of course, after they tithed. And when they did, it almost started a war right in the middle of Providence. Ask your dad about it sometime. He was there. You could ask Sparky, too. The poor Sprite got captured in that battle, trying to help me get away.”
“So, why wasn’t there a war?”
“Me and Grandpa. We stopped it from getting worse by playing.” I patted the violin case at my hip. “Our music calmed everyone down and stopped the fighting, but it was too late for Mom. Someone hit her with an iron bar, and she died of her injuries.”
“And your dad?” Fred didn’t blink, but the gleam in his eye got less baleful, more watery.
“The queen executed him for the crime of embracing an Unseelie Courtier. He gave her one last kiss before she died, you see.”
“She killed him for that?” Fred shook his head, nostrils flaring.
“Yeah. And he was one of her knights, too.” I felt exhausted, more tired than after that mad dash through the jungle.
“Oh, Irina.” Fred’s shoulders dropped. “I had no idea. No wonder you chose music.”
“At least I had a choice.”
“Because you’re not a changeling?”
“That’s right, not a bit of it. Took after Grandpa almost exactly. He stuck up for a whole camp full of people he didn’t know when he was younger than I am now. And his history plus that battle, what happened to my folks, that’s why we’ve only got each other. And it’s why I won’t stand by and let the queen pull this bull with another family. It doesn’t matter that I only met you today, or I don’t know Ed at all. I know what you’re going through, what could happen. That’s enough reason for me. Never again is the Kazynski way, you know.”
“I’m so sorry.” Fred hung his head, turning it away, so I only saw his profile. “And so grateful you still think I deserve your help.”
“It’s okay.” I reached out, pausing before patting his shoulder to check his emotional state. He felt deflated but not defeated. My story hadn’t broken him, just busted a big hole in the suspicion he’d built, that his deteriorating sanity had directed at me. I changed my hand's trajectory and brushed his cheek with my fingertips. “I’m an Empath. Telling you I understand is an understatement.”
“Thanks.” Fred closed his hand over mine. When he looked back at me, all the rage had eased, replaced by gritty determination. It was like a breaking fever, except emotional. He stepped to the side and faced forward, still holding my hand. “Now, look above the trees and tell me what you see.”
“Towers.” I barked out a laugh. “The castle already!”
“Yup.” Fred squeezed my hand gently. “Now, nothing’s standing in our way.”
I knew that was only more brash optimism. Fred still had no cap, leaving him at risk for another episode like this one. I could barely play my instrument. But I wouldn’t correct him because I couldn’t be sure I wasn’t wrong. After all, we still had one more sticky note, and the mountain of conviction between us seemed higher than the wall we’d toppled earlier in our Quest.
We walked along the path, the thicker trees giving way to parkland. The full castle came into view, and even though the clock chimed ten, we knew we’d make it in plenty of time. It only took about five minutes to see our error in judgment.
The castle had looked peaceful at a distance, and it was easy to imagine it mostly deserted and protected by wards. On closer inspection, the place was crawling with guards armed to the literal and figurative teeth—brightly armored Sidhe, trolls manning catapults, brownies poised in crossbows with helmets like spearheads, djinn waving curved blades, and Spites in spiked collars patrolling everywhere.
“So, what do we do now?” Fred scratched his head. “Summon the last of the sticky psychic paper crew?”
“I think that’s probably our only option.” I glanced down at the slightly smudged ink. “It’s an Imp. I’m not sure how one of them can help us.”
“Do you know what Imps do?” Fred shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
“Do you know Gnomes?” I handed the paper to him.
“Yeah.” Fred rolled his eyes. “Ornery, sneaky, and powerful. Loyal when they actually find someone they like keeping around.”
“Imps are kind of like less surly Gnomes, only Seelie. They look a bit different too, but there are some extra things you should know before we call one for help. You know the story of Rumpelstiltskin?”
“Who doesn’t?” Fred cracked his knuckles. “What a jerk.”
“Okay. Well, that story must have been inspired by an Imp.”
“So they’re miracle workers?”
“Yeah, you could say that.” I sighed. “They have hearts like mercenaries, though. They work miracles for a price.”
“Ugh.” Fred made a face like he’d bitten a lemon. “No chance we could guess its name?”
“That’s one part of the story that isn’t true.” I shook my head.
“Oh.” Fred paused, holding the note gingerly. “So, what exactly can they do?”
“That’s really something you should ask the imp.” I shrugged. “I only know they seem to do impossible things.”
“Yeah. Well. You only rescue your little brother from the Under once, right?”
“Right.” I cleared my throat. “Well, you do. And we hope we don't have to do it again even though nature loves a sequel.”
He used the paper. A rush of displaced air brushed my sleeve, along with a pop. We turned to greet the wizened little person.
“Hello. I take it you need a miracle?” The imp grinned, twirling the end of what looked like a beard but turned out to be a hairy triangular scarf.
“You could say that.” Fred looked distinctly unimpressed. “All the same, I’m not sure you’ll be able to deliver on this one. It’s a pretty tall order.”
“Manners, lunk.” I elbowed Fred, then leaned down and held out one hand. “I’m Irina—”
“Yes, yes. You’re the Kazynski girl. And the big fellow there must be Fred Redford. Good to make your acquaintance." They grinned. "Daryl told me all about you.”
“Wait, what?” I blinked. “How?”
“Oh, they told me in the future, you see. After everything that’ll happen later on, of course.” The imp shrugged. “You can call me Ziggy. The two of you have many talents, but naming things is not among them, so I’ve taken the liberty. Now, tell me what you need.”
“Okay, Ziggy.” Fred held up one hand with the fingers curled down. He raised one for each item. “My cap. A bow for Irina’s violin. Something to help us neutralize the army guarding that castle over there. And a partridge in a pear tree.”
“I can do all of those things.” Their entire face crinkled when they smiled.
“The partridge in the pear tree isn’t a requirement, of course.” I rolled my eyes at Fred. “That one was a joke, you know.”
“All the same, I can give him everything he asked for with enough time to spare.”
“No way!” Fred took a step back.
“Way.” Ziggy laughed. “I believe in miracles. When I’m done, so will you.”
“But I don’t even know where to find any of those things, or even what one of them is.” Fred narrowed his eyes.
“I do.” The imp smirked.
“I can’t possibly imagine how.” Fred shook his head.
“I’m an imp.” Ziggy giggled. Their laugh was creepy instead of charming like the Pixies’. “We have our methods, but you may not like our prices.”
“Okay.” Fred crossed his arms. “So lay the price thing on me then, miracle-worker.”
“In the future, you’ll see me again. You'll also be given a choice to condemn or give mercy.” Ziggy smiled slyly. “Give it.”
“I can’t imagine that being a price he won’t like.” I bit my lip, trying to figure out the downside of this deal. “I mean, you seem to know something about Fred. You must already be aware that he’s the merciful type.”
“It’s not going to be as easy as it sounds when the day comes.” Ziggy sighed. “Miracles aren’t cheap, even when they’re easy. Having mercy at that point in time will be costlier than it seems now. And you’re right; this is a tall order, but I can do it. Give the word if you can accept these terms, Fred Redford.”
“I accept.”
“Great.” Ziggy smiled. Their teeth looked like crystal or maybe cut glass. I wondered whether they might have replaced them like Gnomes or if that was just how an Imp’s teeth always looked. They tugged on that beardish scarf and vanished with another pop.
“Are you sure that was a good idea?” I raised an eyebrow.
“No, but what else could I do?” Fred shrugged.
“You could have just asked for the cap and the bow, I guess.” I sighed. “The thing to stop an army is probably what makes that request such a doozy. Or, you could have haggled a little.”
“Maybe, but an act of mercy seems a fair enough price for a miracle.” Fred stared up at one of the towers. “And it’s not even mine, it’s for my brother.”
I sighed, hoping I wouldn’t have any “I told you so” moments with Fred later. I was about to thank him for adding a bow in with his requests when a third pop signaled Ziggy’s return. This time, the rush of air that came with them was much bigger, blowing my hair all around my head and into my face. I pushed my hair back to see that the imp had brought company.
“Lane!” Fred’s exclamation identified the vaguely familiar long-haired fellow standing next to Ziggy.
“Um, hi.” Lane glanced from Fred to me and then back to Ziggy. “What gives, little dude? I was just minding my own business, and here I am at—” He glanced up at the heavily defended castle. “Okay, where in fang hill are we?”
“The Under, Lane. A long walk outside the Sidhe queen’s castle.” Fred glanced at the guitar bag slung over Lane’s shoulder. “Thank goodness you have your guitar. I understand why Ziggy here brought you. Music. That’s got to be the solution to one of my problems.” He turned to face the imp. “This is only one item on the miracle list, buddy.”
“Oh, I assure you, Mr. Meyer has everything with him you need to complete your Quest.” Ziggy chuckled. “But I’ve almost forgotten something. Here’s the last item.”
