A Fairy Tale (7 page)

Before she could convince herself to try, a small, gnarled creature emerged from the hole. The creature lapped at the cream on the ground, sniffed greedily, found the carton, and asked, “Who brings me this offering?”

“I do, Good Neighbor,” Sophie said.

The creature looked up at her, then fell on its knees. “Your gift is welcomed, my good lady. What has one such as I done to merit your favor?”

“It’s what you
will
do for me. My sister has been taken to the Realm. I need something brought to her, and I ask you to take it through for me.”

“I could do that, my lady.” The creature sounded surprisingly eager.

“Oh, good,” Sophie sighed under her breath. She’d expected more haggling, based on her research, but she had no quarrel with doing things the easy way, and this task was minor enough that she didn’t feel the need to look for traps or loopholes. She took a sheet from the memo pad in her purse and scribbled a note, then put it in the plastic grocery bag with the food. In the depths of her purse she found a ribbon from an old pointe shoe. She wrapped the ribbon around the neck of the bag, tied it in a bow, and handed the bag to the creature. “Please see to it that this gets to the human girl who just entered the Realm.”

“I will do that, my lady,” the creature said with a bow.

Taking care not to give direct thanks—which would have implied an obligation to the creature—she said, “Your assistance is gratifying. Please enjoy the cream I leave for you.”

The creature dragged the package into the hole, then returned for the carton of cream. That mission accomplished, Sophie stood and let her skirt fall so that it hid most of her mud-streaked legs. A few good puddles would take care of her shoes and ankles. She hurried back toward the street. Now she really did need to find some dinner, because she hadn’t been lying about feeling starved.

The Realm

Immediately Afterward

Emily’s trick with the umbrella must have bought her a few minutes, as no pursuers had yet caught her, but she was under no illusion that the umbrella would hold a bunch of magical creatures for very long. So, she paused to put her shoe back on and then ran all-out, as quickly as she could.

She was running down a tree-lined avenue like the Mall in the real Central Park, but she wasn’t sure where to head. Sophie said the gateways between the fairy world and the real world existed at right angles to reality, and you had to find them by feel. Emily had no idea what she was supposed to feel. What she needed was a white rabbit to follow down a hole, but there wasn’t one in sight, and she wasn’t sure she’d trust it even if there was. Since she’d been brought into this world from near Tavern on the Green, she struck out in that direction. The old restaurant might not be there in this skewed reality, but she hoped that if a gateway existed near there in her world, there might be a corresponding gateway in this reality.

Changing course allowed her to glance behind her. She saw no sign of the hotel or apartment building, but she did see her pursuers, who had been far enough behind her that they hadn’t yet realized she’d left the Mall. She dove behind a nearby bit of shrubbery and watched as they ran past.

Once her heart quit pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else, she noticed a strange, wild, and beautiful music wafting through the park. It reminded her of her first encounter with the fairies, when she was fourteen. She’d been walking in the woods, trying to get lost, when she’d been drawn by music like this, music that sounded to her like freedom.

The music seemed to be coming from within a nearby grove of trees. The trees offered cover, she rationalized as she left her hiding place. She most definitely wasn’t going in search of that soul-stirring music.

Within the grove was a clearing, and there the fairies danced. They weren’t doing the twist that fit into Maeve’s Doris Day fetish or the foxtrot from Nick and Nora’s ballroom. These looked wild and free, wearing filmy garments made of spiderwebs and flowers as they danced in a circle to music played by fairy musicians on instruments made from nature—a fiddle carved out of a gourd and a harp strung on a curving tree branch. It was the most amazing dancing she’d ever seen, even more hypnotic and entrancing than Sophie alone in a studio when she didn’t think anyone was watching and she dropped her rigid self-control.

The sound of a hunting horn rang out before the temptation to join the dance overcame her. The fanfare sent a surge of adrenaline through her body, but she wasn’t sure if it was triggering fight or flight. Apparently, she wasn’t alone in that response. The musicians stopped suddenly, and there was a flurry of rustling noises as swarms of little creatures disappeared into the underbrush. The fairies in the grove also scattered, running as if the devil himself pursued them. Emily didn’t want to see anything that could scare fairies, unless it was her sister, and she doubted even Sophie could trigger a fairy stampede.

A fairy woman grabbed Emily’s hand and dragged her away with the others. Emily resisted, not wanting to be kidnapped yet again. “You don’t want to be caught out,” the woman urged, “not if you don’t want to serve them.” That sounded reasonable to Emily, so she ran with the fairy woman. They crossed what might have been Bow Bridge, but which wasn’t, and ran into the woods, where they crouched behind some large rocks that allowed them to see the bridge while remaining hidden.

The horn sounded again, this time closer, and soon the head of a procession came into view. Tall, thin soldiers led the way on horseback, one of them sounding the horn. They wore leather and golden armor, and their hair streamed down their backs. The horses were armored and draped in silk. Behind the soldiers rode a man and woman wearing crowns and solid black clothing that was somewhat medieval in style. Both had white skin, solid white hair, and silver eyes that made Maeve’s eyes look warm and twinkly in comparison. Aside from the white hair, they showed no signs of age, but Emily still got the sense that they were absolutely ancient. Behind them rode more courtiers and soldiers, and red-and-white hunting hounds ran alongside the horses.

They passed within yards of Emily’s hiding place. She held her breath, now understanding why the fairies had run for cover. These people had an air about them that said they saw the entirety of creation as existing to serve their whims. A hidden fairy not much farther down the lake’s shore must have made some noise because the queenly woman gestured and one of her soldiers dismounted, then pulled the struggling fairy out of the bushes. He bound the captive’s hands with a silver chain and fastened that chain to his saddle before remounting and rejoining the procession. The fairy captive was left to run alongside the soldier’s horse.

The procession went on forever, with hundreds and hundreds of fairies, not all of them going willingly. Emily thought a few of the captives looked human. They all moved in total silence, aside from the occasional blast on the horn. None of the fairies spoke to each other. They just stared straight ahead. If this was the alternative, Emily could see why fairies might be drawn to Maeve’s court. Maeve seemed like a lot more fun.

Finally, the tail of the procession passed. The hiding fairies waited several more minutes before tentatively emerging from their shelters. “I’m lucky you were there,” Emily said to the fairy girl who’d helped her.

“I would not subject anyone to the whims of Niamh and Fiontan,” the fairy girl said with a shrug.

“I don’t suppose you know a way out of here—to the outside world?” Emily said, hoping the girl’s helpfulness might go further.

The fairy pointed behind Emily. “There is a passage in the woods. Look for the roots of the oak tree.”

“Okay, oak tree. Got it.” Emily left the fairies behind and headed deeper into the woods. This was like the Ramble in her park, only it really was wild, not carefully cultivated to give the appearance of wildness. If she wasn’t mistaken, it was also getting darker, and not just because the trees blocked the light.

It would have been easier if she knew what to look for. Would it be like a magic mirror with the real world on the other side, or would she hear traffic noises? Traffic noises would have been reassuring and definitely less creepy than the noises she heard now, which were wilder and fiercer than anything that came from the zoo.

She glanced up at the forest canopy to look for oak leaves, then realized she wasn’t actually among trees. Roots came down from above to form what she’d thought were tree trunks. So, that was what the fairy meant when she mentioned the roots of the oak. Fairyland must be underground, and there must be a passage hidden in the tree roots. The trick would be finding it. How would she recognize an oak tree without being able to see the leaves?

She was so busy looking up as she walked that she tripped and fell. While she was still on the ground, something pounced. She swatted it away, but then something else came at her. Things pulled at her hair, and she felt sharp teeth pierce the skin of her neck.

Leaping to her feet, she shook them all off and ran back toward the light. Now she knew why she’d been able to escape. They didn’t have to worry about her getting too far. The dark areas where the barrier between fairyland and the real world was thin were too dangerous for her to pass through on her own. She no longer had a destination in mind. She just wanted to get away from these attackers. She ran blindly, as fast as she could go, toward the only source of light she could see.

The light turned out not to be the flat twilight that counted as daylight in the fairy world. Instead, it was squares of windows. As she drew closer, she saw that the windows were set in a forest hut. Would it be a gingerbread cottage where a witch lured children to their deaths, or would it be the home of a kindly woodsman who would give her shelter?

Right now, she didn’t care. She wanted these things with their sharp teeth and grabbing hands off her. If it was the witch, she’d just have to shove her in the oven. She reached the hut, wrenched open the door, and found herself in a library.

Bookcases rose from the floor to a ceiling several stories high—far taller than the cottage had looked from the outside. In addition to the leather-bound volumes she expected to find in a place that looked like it belonged in an Ivy League university, the shelves were filled with battered paperbacks, a few textbooks, lots of magazines—many of them torn or stained—and stacks of yellowed newspapers. It looked like a library made up of things people had left on park benches.

Once she caught her breath, a wave of exhaustion swept over her. Whatever time it was in fairyland, her body thought she’d been up all night. Even Sophie would be tired, and this library hut seemed like the last place Maeve would go, given the way she’d sneered at the book she’d given Eamon. This was probably about as safe as she’d get in this world.

Feeling like Goldilocks in the bears’ home, she looked for a place to lie down. The bench by one worktable would be too hard, but there was an overstuffed chair by the fireplace that might be just right. She sat down, slumped against the back, turned sideways to drape her legs over one arm, and dropped off right away.

She didn’t feel like she’d been asleep long at all when she woke with the sense that someone was watching her. When she got her eyes fully opened, focused, and adjusted to the light, she saw Eamon, her kidnapper, standing in front of her.

“What are you doing here, Emily Drake?” he asked.

New York City, The Upper West Side—Murray Residence

Wednesday 5:00 p.m.

Michael saw Tanaka off, straightened Emily’s apartment from the search, then locked up and headed up to his own place. He had to stop at the top of the stairs to catch his breath and fight off a wave of dizziness, and then a burst of panic struck when he unlocked his apartment door. His heart raced and his hand shook, and he had to remind himself that it was his own apartment. The only individual on the other side of that door was the world’s laziest dog, unless Sophie had made it back without him noticing, and he didn’t think she would shoot him. A door phobia would not be good for his career, so he told himself to get over it and opened the door.

Although he’d just feared finding someone on the other side of the door, once he was inside he couldn’t help but hold his breath and hope that his apartment wouldn’t be empty this time. But the only sound that greeted him was the jingle from Beau’s tags as the dog lifted his head to acknowledge Michael’s return. Michael let out his pent-up breath in a sigh. “I’m having flashbacks on multiple traumas today,” he told the dog. “That doesn’t sound good, does it? And I’m consulting a dog about my mental health. We’d better not share that with anyone, okay? I’d like to eventually be allowed to carry a firearm again.”

His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten anything since a Pop Tart sometime that morning. He headed into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator to see if any food had miraculously materialized. Alas, the only thing inside that didn’t require cooking was a half-full container of the soup Emily had brought the night before.

“Whaddaya think, Beau?” he asked the dog, who’d joined him in the kitchen the moment the refrigerator door opened. “Soup, or call out for delivery?” Beau barked once, letting him know that he wasn’t the only one who was hungry. While the dog danced eagerly around his dish—about the only time he showed much sign of life—Michael measured out dog food.

There was a knock at the door, and Sophie’s voice called, “It’s Sophie. Don’t get up.” He went out into the hallway as the door opened, just in time to see a bedraggled Sophie enter, holding a plastic bag. She put down her umbrella and stepped out of her shoes in the entryway. Her legs were spattered with mud from the knees down, and the hem of her dress was damp and muddy. “I brought dinner,” she said, holding up the bag. “Has Detective Tanaka already gone?”

“Yeah. He said it’s okay for you to go into the apartment. I’ve got the key. And Tank took your suitcase down.”