Talia touched the handle of her knife. “If that fop tries to take my virtue, I’m taking his manhood.”
“I only take what’s willingly given,” said Timothy.
Snow looked Timothy up and down. “He’s pretty, but I don’t think he’s my type,” she said. “He’s far too impressed with himself.”
“Go on, you scoundrel,” the old woman said. “These ladies aren’t for you.”
“And what would you want?” Danielle asked. She was starting to understand this place. Nobody did anything for free.
“Me?” The woman rubbed her knobby, hairy chin. “I’d like to play a game, my pretty.”
“Not interested,” said Talia. “We’ll find Arlorran on our own.”
“How?” Danielle asked. “How much time will we give Charlotte and Stacia to work their magic while we wander aimlessly about Fairytown?” She folded her arms and turned back to the woman. “What game is that?”
“You’ll lose,” Timothy said in a taunting, singsong voice.
“A short way from here, the road splits in three directions,” said the old woman. “You guess which road will lead you to Arlorran. If you’re correct, I’ll be your willing servant throughout your journey. Your every wish will be my command, from the moment you answer until you leave Fairytown. You’ll need allies here, and my power is nothing to sneer at.”
The fox wrinkled his nose, proving her wrong.
“And if I guess wrong?” Danielle asked.
“If you’re wrong, you give me the son you carry in your womb.”
Danielle rolled her eyes. “It’s all about the unborn children with you fairy folk, isn’t it?” Turning to Talia and Snow, she asked, “Is she telling the truth? Will she serve me if I guess the right road?”
“You can’t,” Talia said. “That’s the heir to the throne, Princess.”
“She is of fairy blood,” Snow said. “If she makes a bargain, she’ll have no choice but to keep it. But Talia’s right. The odds are two to one against you, and you can’t risk—”
Danielle smiled. “I’ll play your game.” She saw Talia close her eyes in disgust, and even Snow looked nervous. But Danielle wasn’t worried. Not this time.
“Excellent,” said the woman, rubbing her hands together. “One road will take you south. Another curves to the west. The third will lead you to the north. Your friend awaits you on one of these paths.”
Danielle turned to Timothy. “You know where Arlorran is.”
He nodded.
“Tell me which road, and I’ll order her to serve you. ‘From the moment I answer, until we leave Fairytown.’”
“Hey,” shouted the old woman. “You can’t do that!”
The fox began to yip, a sound suspiciously like laughter. Slowly, Timothy smiled. Lifting his walking stick, he pointed down the road. “You want the southern path, which will lead you to the First Forest. Most evenings, you’ll find Arlorran in a tavern called the Tipsy Oak. You can’t miss it.”
The Queen’s Sun had all but disappeared when they reached the three branches the old woman had described.
“They did tell us the road split,” Snow said.
Talia rolled her eyes. “They might have been a little more specific about it.”
The central road continued straight ahead. The northern path disappeared into a stone-ringed hole in the earth. And the southern branch, the one Timothy had instructed them to follow, climbed into the trees.
Ancient oaks grew on either side of the road. Danielle could see the roots twining around the edges of the road at the point where it left the earth like a bridge. The road itself was thick as Danielle’s hand. Farther on, the trees grew like pillars beneath the road, carrying it higher and higher until it was little more than an emerald thread among the leaves. Branches laced together on either side like a railing. Danielle could see the whole thing swaying slightly in the breeze.
“Two suns make for healthy plants,” Snow commented.
Talia was already heading up the road. Danielle rested her left hand on her sword handle as she followed. The wood and glass were warm to the touch. A sword would do her little good against the dangers of Fairytown, but simply touching it brought her comfort. “Please watch over Armand,” she whispered, wondering if her mother could still hear her. “Keep him safe until we arrive.”
Already the road had taken them into the upper branches. Leaves surrounded them, so they walked through a tunnel of green. Despite the climb, Danielle still felt herself stumbling forward, as if she walked downhill. Her knees and thighs were beginning to ache.
Eventually, they broke through the upper branches, reaching the very tops of the trees. Danielle gasped. The leaves to either side were a rustling sea beneath the stars. Flickers of colored light danced through the trees in the distance. Here and there, a few rogue branches broke through the canopy, stretching even higher. Behind them, the dark shape of the hedge curved in a great arc in either direction. Orange campfires marked the goblin camp, where the fruit trees were but poor, shrunken shadows of the woods now surrounding her. On the other side, in the distance, she could just make out the lacelike spires of the queen’s castle, as well as the dark shadows of the king’s.
“How large is this place?” she whispered.
“The last official census had the fairy population at just over thirty thousand,” said Snow. “Of course, their tallies are a bit peculiar. Intelligent animals are counted—that’s the beast caste, like our friend the fox—but not the dumb. The unnamed caste won’t show up on any census, but there are only a handful of them. Some of the bloodless, like that glowing ball, only count as a fraction. But the numbers still come out pretty close.”
“Thirty thousand,” Danielle repeated. Yet so much of Fairytown was wilderness. “Where do they all live?”
“Remember, fairies can spread through the land in any direction,” Snow said. “Trolls and kobolds burrow into the earth, while griffins and elves spread upward, into the treetops and cliffs. And don’t ask me how they count the cloud striders and their riders, who can touch the land only once each year.”
“Do those numbers include mortals?” Talia asked. “Those who stumble into Fairytown and never make their way out again?”
Snow nodded. “Most of them end up slaves. They were included in Appendix B of the census.”
“You have got to find some other hobbies,” Talia said. She leaned against the branches as she dug through her bag, coming up with a paper-wrapped bundle. She unwrapped it and handed Danielle a thick strip of dried fish, wrapped in what appeared to be seaweed. “Trust me, it’s better than eating fairy food.”
Danielle nodded, grateful for the rest. She hadn’t wanted to say anything, but she was having a hard time keeping up with the others. “Is it true that if you eat the fairies’ food, you can never leave?”
“Not here,” said Snow. “We’re still in our world, changed as it might be by fairy magic. If you ever pass through the fairy hill, though, you’ll want to be careful.”
“Then why—” she started to ask.
“Because fairy cooking tastes like mud,” said Talia.
Danielle tried a bite, then doubled over the railing, spitting and doing her best to keep from throwing up. The seaweed had a sharp, salty tang, and the fish tasted of hickory smoke and some kind of pepper. Her stomach convulsed again, then began to settle back down.
“Maybe she would have been better off with the mud,” said Snow.
Talia pressed a wineskin into Danielle’s hand. “I’m sorry, Princess. I should have realized nadif would be too much for you.”
“It’s not. The taste is actually quite good, but the fish and the spice, I just—” The memory alone was enough to send her back to the railing. Several gulps of wine later, Danielle wiped her eyes and asked, “What
is
that?”
“The spice is called nadif,” Talia said. “It’s a recipe from back home. The queen loves it, but it’s an acquired taste.” She took a huge bite of her own fish and grinned. “The food in Lorindar is so
bland
.”
“But it doesn’t burn holes in your lips,” Snow said, snatching the wineskin from Danielle.
Talia grabbed a strip of smoked lamb and handed it to Danielle. “Here, this one’s milder.”
Danielle ate as she walked. “Mild” was still strong enough to clear her sinuses, but at least she didn’t feel like her head was on fire.
“Look at that,” Snow said, pointing.
Up ahead, a fallen tree leaned against the road. The branches had broken or been cut away, leaving only a great trunk. This was one of the giants among giants. By any logic, the tree should have smashed right through the road when it fell. While the road did tilt where the tree had fallen, it didn’t appear damaged. Merely stretched a bit.
“Does that look like a tipsy oak to you?” Snow asked. She didn’t wait for an answer, giggling as she ran toward the enormous tree. Starlight glittered from her mirrors.
“She acts like we’re on a picnic,” Talia muttered, but she began to jog after Snow.
Danielle gulped the last of her food, wishing Snow had handed over the wineskin before she started running. Her tongue was still tingling from the nadif spice. Hopefully, the Tipsy Oak would have something mild to drink.
Touching her sword for luck and comfort, she hurried after the others.
Up close, the tree was easily twice as wide as Danielle was tall. The top had been cut away a short distance past the road. Young twigs still sprouted from the bark, appearing comically small by comparison.
“So how do we get inside?” Danielle asked.
Talia pointed to a line of sap dripping down the side of the tree. She grabbed a broken branch and pulled, peeling a thick section of wood and bark away from the trunk to reveal a jagged hole. Talia poked her sword into the darkness, then peeked inside. “Hello? Any gnomes down there?”
Her voice echoed and faded to nothing.
“Are you sure your friend Timothy was telling the truth?” Talia asked as she pulled herself through the doorway.
“He had to,” Snow said. “If he hadn’t, the old woman would have taken Danielle’s child, remember?”
Danielle stepped up to the tree. “Does anyone have a candle?”
Snow touched her choker, and the front mirror began to glow.
“Thanks,” said Danielle. The interior of the tree wasn’t high enough to walk upright, but she could crawl on her hands and knees with little trouble. To her surprise, bark covered the interior of the tree, the same as the outside. She even saw clusters of acorns hanging from the upper part of the tunnel. She set down her sack and climbed in after Talia.
The inside was cool, with a pleasant nutty scent. She crawled ahead to make room for the others. The tunnel sloped downward, and soon Danielle gave thanks for the rough bark that scraped her hands and knees. A smooth floor would make it too easy to slip.
“What’s that?” Danielle asked, pointing to a round hole on the upper part of the left wall.
Snow squeezed past to direct the light from her choker into the hole. A smaller tunnel led up and away from them. “Looks like the tunnel branches off.”
Talia grabbed an acorn and threw it at her.
They continued downward, passing other side tunnels as they went. The only way to investigate them would be to go back and take more of Trittibar’s shrinking spores.
Danielle’s head began to ache. Crawling downhill for so long had sent her blood pounding into her skull. “Why would anyone make a tavern so inaccessible?”
“It’s Fairytown,” Talia said, as if that explained everything.
High-pitched laughter was the first clue their destination was near. The air took on a smoky smell, and Danielle heard a low buzzing that reminded her of hummingbirds.
“We’re here,” Snow said. The light from her choker disappeared.
Up ahead, a wide hole in the floor pulsed with light of every color, changing from blue to pink to green in a single heartbeat.
“Let me go first,” Talia said. She drew her sword and crawled to the edge of the hole. “Oh, wonderful.”
“What is it?” Danielle asked.
Talia put her weapon away and shook her head. “It’s a pixie bar.”
“Why would Arlorran be at a pixie bar?” Snow asked.
Talia grabbed Snow’s wrists. “Let’s find out.” Bracing one of her legs on the far side of the hole, Talia lowered Snow inside. She dropped their belongings down after, then looked at Danielle. “Your turn, Princess.”
Danielle scooted carefully to the edge. A streak of blue raced beneath her feet and disappeared.
Talia locked her hands around Danielle’s. “Looks like a bit of a drop. Bend your knees and let your legs absorb the impact, and you’ll be fine.”
Danielle nodded, trying to relax. She could see the floor below, littered with old flower petals and acorn shells. Snow was already moving to one side, brushing debris from her trousers.
Talia gave a quick tug, pulling Danielle off-balance. Her breath caught as she dropped into the hole, but Talia didn’t let go. Her shoulders twinged as she dangled there, and then Talia relaxed her grip.