Keys and Curses (Shadow Book 2) (15 page)

“Then why did you?”

“Because you came to seek my help and because I need yours. I’m going to propose a bargain.”

“Why would I make a bargain with an enemy of the king?”

“Because you have little choice. You are in as much peril as these fairies.”

Flower brushed an imaginary speck from her sleeve. “Nikifor and I can look after ourselves.”

“Really?”

Flower caught his scepticism. She made an impatient gesture. “Fine, so maybe we haven’t been doing so well. What are you proposing?”

Fitz tugged on his beard and frowned at the ground. “I need you to help me evacuate Pumpkin. In return, I will take you to someone who will help you rescue the Freakin Fairies.”

“Who?”

“A Freakin Fairy from that village. He’s not been there for many years, but if anyone can help you, it’s him.”

“And where will these fairies go?”

Fitz looked directly at her. “Dream.”

Flower blinked. It took a moment for the word to sink in. “Dream!” she yelled. “Are you crazy?”

Fitz made a pained gesture for her to lower her voice.

Flower glanced at the still empty sky and did so. “You can’t take a whole tribe of Bloomin Fairies to Dream!”

“It’s the only safe place,” Fitz said. “The Guild have eyes all over Shadow. Until they are removed from power, the fairies must stay in Dream.”

“But it’s impossible! You know what humans are like, if they so much as saw a Bloomin Fairy-”

Fitz shook his head. “Humans believe what they’re told, not what they see. We’ve successfully integrated a whole clan of Feathertip Bloody Fairies as a travelling circus. We have an enclave of Freakin Fairies operating a jewellery corporation. I could go on.”

“And how do you intend to integrate the Bloomin Fairies?”

“We have land set aside for them to form an organic farming commune. It’ll be isolated, but they’ll have everything they need to live just like they do here.”

“And this Freakin Fairy.” Flower studied Fitz closely. “He’s in Dream too? Is he one of your jewellers?”

“He lives in Dream,” Fitz said. “He helps us to get the fairies out and settled.”

Flower tried to hide her excitement by walking slowly on with her head down. This could be the same Freakin Fairy she’d seen walking with Krysta. The curiosity was almost too much to bear, but she kept a lid on it. The offer was impossible to resist. “You sound organised,” she said. “Are you the leader of this enterprise?”

“Hardly.” Fitz chuckled. “But yes, we are organised.”

“What name do you give yourselves?”

“I don’t think that matters.”

Flower turned back to him. “Of course it matters.”

“You won’t like it.”

“If you don’t tell me I won’t help you.”

“We are the Invisible Army.”

Flower closed her eyes in disbelief. She sat on the ground right there and put her head in her hands. “Are you serious?”

Fitz squatted in front of her. “Yes.”

“Since when did the Invisible Army stop following around the king and sabotaging his every good work and turn to smuggling fairies?”

“Since we realised somebody had to help them.”

Flower was silent for some time, struggling with the idea. The Invisible Army, or the IA as they called themselves, had been a shadowy presence for as long as she could remember. Pierus had never taken them that seriously. But then, the king wasn’t the one who had to clean up the mess they left when they interfered. Come to think of it, they’d been quiet since the Vampire Wars, when–

She frowned. She could see big frightened eyes looking up at her. A Bloody Fairy. A pregnant Bloody Fairy, and something very, very wrong, but the memory slipped from her grasp as quickly as it had landed there. Damn it, this was getting frustrating.

She studied Fitz, who still knelt in front of her. “Alright. We’ll do it. We’ll help you, but only with the fairies. Nikifor and I are not getting involved in anything that would harm the king.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Your destiny is to kill the muse king.

Nikifor had watched Flower and Fitz walk away and been glad of some time to himself. He had so much to think about. The fairy’s words came back to him again and again. He hadn’t told anyone but Fitz. He couldn’t. How could he tell Flower he was a danger to the king? She would never understand.

By the time they came back he’d figured nothing out. He went out to meet them, but his steps dragged and his attention was on the ground.

“Nikifor.” Flower tucked her hand into his elbow and drew him a little way ahead of Fitz when they met. She looked unusually serious.

“Bad news?”

“Perhaps a little. Fitz has agreed to take us to somebody who can help to free the Freakin Fairies, but first we must help him evacuate these Bloomin Fairies from their village. I know it’s highly irregular for us to work with an enemy of the king and it will take much, much longer for us to find Pierus now, but it seems the only way.”

Excitement, relief, elation washed over him in dizzying waves. “But that’s magnificent!” he boomed.

Flower gave him a pained expression and rubbed her ear. “Really? Why?”

“Sorry,” Nikifor whispered. “I only mean, I think we should help the Bloomin Fairies.” He decided not to volunteer any more opinions. It was true, he did want to help the village, but the delay also meant he had longer to figure out what to do about being a danger to the king.

If Flower was surprised he’d agreed so readily, she didn’t show it. She only shrugged. “We’re going to see the Lord of the Gourd right now. I’m going to try and convince him to leave before the Guild gets here.”

“Her,” Nikifor said.

“What?”

“The Lord of the Gourd is a lady.”

“But that’s ridiculous. How can a lord be a lady?”

Fitz caught up to them. He chuckled. “The Lord of the Gourd is always the Bloomin Fairy who can beat all the other fairies in a fist fight. Apparently this lady trounced every male in the village when the last Lord of the Gourd died about sixty years ago.”
They stopped at the giant pumpkin in the centre of the village and ducked through the doorway to get inside. Fitz led the way to the centre of the almost empty space, where once more the Lord of the Gourd resembled a pile of snoring blankets.

Pumpkinhead, who was sitting in the corner mashing something up in a mortar and pestle, jumped up at their entrance, ran over to the pile of blankets and poked at it. “Lord of the Gourd!” he yelled.

The Lord of the Gourd grunted, wriggled, then sat up in a cocoon of blankets. “What?!”

“Visitors, oh great Lord of the Gourd!”

“You don’t have to shout! I may be old but I’m not deaf! Who is it?”

Nikifor winced. The Lord of the Gourd’s pitch was so loud it hurt his ears, but something else bothered him, too. A cold prickle ran down his spine. He glanced about the shadows in the room, but it wasn’t until he looked back at Flower he saw anything unusual. A tall, shadowy creature he knew only too well hovered at her shoulder.

“It’s the Great Clip Clop with the Dead Giant Freakin Muse and the Crazy Giant Freakin Muse!” Pumpkinhead shouted the words so loud veins popped out on his face.

“I can see that for myself!” The Lord of the Gourd rose to her feet and flicked at Pumpkinhead until he returned to his mortar and pestle. Then she turned to her guests. “You’re not dead anymore then,” she said to Flower in a much more normal tone of voice.

Flower made a graceful bow. The Tormentor ran a hand through her hair and looked at Nikifor. He gave a thin smile.

“Madam, it is an honour to meet you. I thank you for taking us in, for if you had not I surely would be dead,” Flower said.

The Tormentor’s eyes never left Nikifor. His shadowy hands closed around her throat. Flower didn’t appear to feel a thing.

“Yes.” The Lord of the Gourd seemed very satisfied with this speech. “It is an honour to meet me.”

“Will you allow me to deliver news from Shadow City?” Flower asked.

“Go on then.” The Lord of the Gourd gave an airy wave of the hand.

“She’s a traitor,” the Tormentor said in a low voice. “You know she is boy, she told you so herself. She agreed to work with the enemy of your king. She must die.”

Nikifor took a single step backward and gave a minute shake of the head. He would not fall apart, not here, not now. He felt Fitz’s eyes on him like coals. He would ignore the Tormentor. The shadow could do nothing.

Flower moved closer to the Lord of the Gourd. “It is my grave duty to report Shadow City is in the grip of some unknown tyrant,” she said. “Fairies from many tribes are missing. Nikifor and I are the only muses I know of who are not missing.”

The Lord of the Gourd shrugged as though the muses mattered little to her. “Nobody from our village is missing.”

“Kill her,” the Tormentor whispered over Flower’s head. His eyes, even in shadow, bored into Nikifor’s mind with a force he could hardly bear.

“I believe you may nevertheless be in grave danger,” Flower said. “The Guild is searching for your village. They close in every day.”

“That’s what he said.” The Lord of the Gourd scowled at Fitz and drummed her fingers on her chair.

“And he was right.” Flower gestured around her. “If they find you, there will be no escape. Please, Madam, take your tribe and flee this place before they get here.”

The Tormentor ran his hand over Flower’s chest in the most intimate and insulting gesture Nikifor had ever seen. His face burned. His hands began to shake.

“If we did that, we’d be missing too,” The Lord of the Gourd said. “Then you’d have to find us as well and that’d make your job doubly hard.”

Flower paused, apparently bamboozled by this reply. Nikifor could almost see her determine to keep pushing to get her way, even as the Tormentor wound a hand into her hair and yanked.

Flower stumbled. She glanced about, frowned, then righted herself. “Madam, please listen to me and save the lives of all your people. The Guild will be here any day. You must leave. You must let Fitz take you to a safe place!”

“I’ll ask the Gourd.” The Lord of the Gourd leaned over the shrivelled gourd sitting on the table in front of her, stared at it for two seconds, then sat back again. “Gourd says no.”

“But you must listen!” Flower cried. “How can you possibly survive a Moon Trooper attack? What will you do when the fetches come?”

The Lord of the Gourd rose up. She stood on her chair, swathed in blankets, and scowled at Flower, who was now on eye level with her. “We’re–not–leaving!”

There was a shocked silence in the room. The echoes of the yell died away.

The Tormentor drew a long, thin dagger and raised it over Flower’s back.

“No you mustn’t!” Nikifor leaped at Flower.

Fitz caught Nikifor by the shoulders and steered him back. “There’s nothing there, friend,” he said in a calm, even tone. He looked over his shoulder. “Madam, please excuse us, we’ve taken enough of your precious time.”

“Go away then,” The Lord of the Gourd said. “You’re very irritating.” She disappeared into the blankets.

Nikifor did not take his eyes off the Tormentor, but he allowed Fitz to steer him outside.

Flower followed them, her fists clenched, her cheeks bright red. “Well, of all the impossible, ridiculous, obstinate fairies I ever met!” she exploded, the moment they were outside. “Fitz Falls did you know she was going to react like that? And what is going on with you two?”

“The Tormentor,” Nikifor said, unable to take his eyes off the shadow. “He’s trying to kill her.”

“Are you sure?” Fitz stayed between Nikifor and Flower. He spun Nikifor in the direction of his pumpkin house and steered him there. “Because it looked to me like you were about to do her some harm.”

“No!” Nikifor tried to see over his shoulder, but Fitz wouldn’t let him turn to look at Flower. “The Tormentor, he said she was a traitor. He had a dagger!”

“And how do you expect an immaterial being to use a dagger?”

They ducked through the doorway while Nikifor tried to puzzle that one out. Fitz pushed him straight into the circle of salt he’d made last night.

Flower entered after them and looked from one to the other with concern. “What’s going on?”

“You. Stand there.” Fitz pointed to the outside of the circle.

“Why?”

“Just do it!” Fitz’s tone brooked no argument.

Nikifor paid attention only to the Tormentor, who ran the tip of that dagger down Flower’s face, along the line of her neck and rested the point at her pulse.

Flower stared at him across the line of salt. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Nikifor drew a shallow breath. “You stumbled in front of the Lord of the Gourd.”

“So? I lost my balance.”

“You never lose your balance. He had his hand in your hair. He pulled on it.”