Goblin Ball (12 page)

“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Lily said, her eyes still on Anzlyn. “We’ll deal with that when we have to.”

“Let’s hope wisdom was one of the gifts she received today,” Anzlyn said. “For ultimately it will be Lexi’s decision how to live her life.”

You couldn’t argue with that, but Lily looked like she wanted to. That was the trouble with humans, Cissa decided. They were too attached to romantic notions of what
other humans
should do with themselves. If only Lily could fully embrace her fae nature! She would be so much happier.

But then, what did “fae” nature mean? Fairies were supposed to be lighthearted, unburdened by thoughts of past or future, untethered by loving. But none of that was true, as far as Cissa could see.

Look at Dandelion, madly in love with Beverly. And poor Aubrey, wracked by sorrow since he lost his daughter Elyse. Who knows what woes lay buried in his heart over his love, Frona, Elyse’s mother? At the time of their affair, Cissa hadn’t given it a moment’s consideration.

And Cissa’s own heart was a mess.
Why didn’t he come to the gifting?
She knew the charm had been properly cast. Unless it required her prince charming feel the same way about her… and he didn’t.

Oh, the pain of it! Love was no fun at all, not when your happiness depended on your love loving you back.

“I’ll be on my way then.” Anzlyn was at the cottage threshold, and she hadn’t had a chance to speak with him yet, to beg for a favor… no matter what it cost. “I’ve done what I can here.”

As soon as he left Mudcastle, an argument erupted over how to explain Lexi’s rapid growth to the people of Tintagos. While no one was paying attention to Cissa, she popped outside.

The silvery fallen angel’s black horse was still there, grazing beside Mavis, but he was gone.

She flew to the lilac stand, past the boundary Beverly had spelled to keep the humans out—which didn’t affect fae anyway—and slipped inside the portal. In a twinkling, she was at Igdrasil, waiting for Anzlyn when he arrived.

She touched the world tree without a thought. She was one of very few fairies not afraid of it, and quite proud of the fact.

“Take me with you.” She followed the fallen angel as he stepped behind Igdrasil and onto the hidden path which led to the rocky shore below. “Take me to Avalos.”

He stopped on the path and raised an eyebrow at her, as if surprised by her audacity.

“Take me with you,” she said again. “I have to ask the abbess something.”

His eyes were kind and serene but unmoved. He gave her a compassionate smile, and the corners of his mouth twitched in sympathy. Just the kind of understanding that raised her hackles.

“I don’t control who visits Avalos,” he said. “Brother Sun and Sister Moon have noted your wish. I understand that patience isn’t among a fairy’s many virtues, but I’m afraid patience is all I can counsel.”

The boat to Avalos shot out of the mist and pulled up to the shore with Velyn at its helm. In a flash, Anzlyn transported down to the boat—and in the twinkle of an eye Cissa followed him.

“Take me with you!” she cried. “Velyn, don’t you remember me?”

But the boatman of the
Redux
said, “It’s not in my power.”

“I’m sorry, Queen Narcissus,” Anzlyn said. “Truly, I am.”

A dark, uncomfortable mist—a fever mist, for sure—mustered between her and the boat, forming an impenetrable barrier.

She rammed it. She tried to drill through it, spinning so fast she got a headache, but to no avail. “Let me…”

From somewhere beyond the mist, thunder boomed softly, and in it she heard Aeolios say, “Not now.”

“Please! P...p…pleeeeeeze!”

“Go home, Cissa,” said the smug minor god. “That’s a good little fairy queen.” And he blew her all the way back to the faewood.

Cissa landed on her butt on her bed in her bower and immediately jumped out again. “Rats!” She stomped her foot. “Rats! Rats! Rats!”

« Chapter 10 »
Nanny Violet

Faeview

“Would you like
honey in your tea, Mr. Max?” With elegance and refinement well beyond her years—rather, her months—Little Lady Lexi lifted the delicate china teapot with one hand and held the top on with the other.

As the child poured, Nanny Violet surreptitiously refilled the pot with hot Pride of the Port, her personal favorite tea blend. She’d been surprised to find being among humans wasn’t as awful as she’d anticipated. They didn’t have Pride of the Port in the faewood!

“Yes, please.” Max grunted out the words. When did the gob ever not grunt?

“Milk or lemon?”

“Lemon, thank you.”

Since coming to Faeview to be little Lady Lexi’s nanny, Violet had changed her opinion of Max the goblin. His gruffness was now endearing to her, his ugliness an unfortunate sorrow. She was no longer in awe—or afraid—of the gob.

And every time he came, he brought a present. There was that.

This morning it had been delicate little white china plates painted with tiny pastel purple and pink flowers and pale green leaves to match the tea set he’d given Lexi yesterday. At once, the future countess (and heir to the Moonstick Throne, let’s not forget) had called for a tea party.

They’d all met at the Temple of Joy and Wonder for the event.

“And Auntie Cissa,” said Lady Lexi. “How would you like your tea?”

“I’ve always wanted milk and honey
and
lemon,” the queen said.

“Oh, me too,” Goldy said.

“I’ve tried, but it never works!” Morning Glory said. “It always turns into a curdled mess.”

Beverly laughed, along with Lexi’s faeling parents, which Nanny Violet thought unkind. She was pretty sure everybody had at one time or another tried to put everything in their tea, with equally disappointing results.

But she let it go. Nanny Violet refused all negative thoughts about the woman who’d saved her from Idris’s glimmer glass, even if Beverly was a wyrding woman.

“Here, Auntie Cissa.” Lexi handed the queen a cup and saucer. “Try this.”

Cissa sipped the offered beverage, and her face lit up. “How?” she said. “How did you… sugar and milk and lemon, and not spoiled. Is this a wyrd, or is it fae magic?”

Now she’d done it. She should leave little Lady Lexi alone about that. A worried frown spread over the poor darling’s sweet face, and her violet eyes darkened.

“I…I don’t know.”

“It’s Lexi magic,” Max said. “It’s remarkable. And wonderful.”

Everyone let out the breath they’d been holding, and even the queen smiled.

“Lexi magic. Max has it exactly right,” Cissa said. Then she put her hand on his—she touched the gob all the time; Violet could
not
understand that—and squeezed it,
eww
. “Max has it right as usual.”

Lady Lexi continued pouring for her guests, and her grandfather, Dandelion, set a flutter of butterflies dancing around her head, a living crown.

It was the last week of June, and little Lady Lexi had grown as quickly as everyone feared. Her name wasn’t
really
Lexi. Her official name was Alexandra Lowenwyn Beverly Glory Marion Elyse Bausiney, and she was the future countess of Dumnos.

More importantly, she was the only living heir to the Moonstick Throne.

Even though there wasn’t one flower in her name.

Because of the curse, it was hard to tell how old she was, but Nanny Violet figured she’d pass for nine. Or ten.

Nine or ten, her official name was far too heavy for such a sweet little girl. To her family she was simply Lexi. Nanny Violet called her Lexi, or Lady Lexi for fun, and she was exceedingly proud that Lexi called her Nanny.

It was such an honor to be trusted so! Fen and all the other fairies were insanely jealous. She’d come up in the world, that was for sure. She spoke with Goldy and Morning Glory almost every day, she had been to Mudcastle four times in the past month.

Everybody called her Nanny Violet. She had responsibilities.

She was in fairy heaven.

The idyll was shattered by the sound of human voices, and everyone went on the alert. Someone was approaching from the car park. Of late, the Temple of Joy and Wonder and its sacred lake had become a popular picnicking spot among the villagers.

“It’s getting late, anyway,” Nanny Violet said. “We should go back to the house.”

Blink, blank, blunk
. A volley of spells and wyrds packed the tea set in its basket, the carpet and pillows were whooshed off by someone, and the Faeview contingent popped home.

Things had been much easier since the earl developed his ability to transport, though his skills were limited to short distances and even then only within Faeview grounds.

Lexi was quiet all the rest of the day, and later in the nursery, when she had put on her nightgown and climbed into her charmed bed, she put her book aside and said, “Nanny, why are goblins so very ugly?”

“Do you think Mr. Max is ugly?” Nanny Violet hedged for time. The girl had never noticed before.

“I think others may find him so,” Lexi said. “The world is cruel to ugly people, isn’t it, Nanny Violet?”

The girl must have aged even further than Cade and Lily believed. According to the child development books Violet consulted constantly, a conversation like this, with such awareness of the world outside her home, belonged to the age of reason. Lexi could be closer to eleven or twelve than nine or ten.

Violet’s fairy heart squeezed in her breast. The little girl was growing up.
Too fast! Too fast!

There was nothing to do but accept the fact. The books all said a child at this stage should hear the truth they ask for, but that the caregiver should give a thought to how much of the truth the child could handle. Suddenly Nanny Violet’s responsibilities felt very heavy.

“Humans can be very cruel to those they find ugly,” she said.

“Not fairies?” Lexi looked at her slyly.

Busted.
“Fairies are… even crueler. Pretty things make our hearts soar. All ugliness feels like an assault upon our senses.”

“That must be why the goblins went to live in the Blue Vale,” Lexi said. “To get away from the fairies.”

“You may be right,” Violet said. “They split off before I was born.”

“But we like Mr. Max,” Lexi said, as if confirming a truth now challenged.

“We adore Mr. Max,” Violet said. “He’s very dear to us all.”

“But why are goblins so ugly?” Lexi said again. “Were they always?”

“Goblins are cursed,” she said. “Long ago, it’s said, the goblins were the most beautiful of all the fae. We fairies wouldn’t go that far, but it was before I was born so I don’t know. One day a gob did something so very, very—”

She was about to say
naughty
, but the word seemed too childish for Lexi now.

“—something so bad that even Brother Sun and Sister Moon were shocked. And you know the high gods don’t shock easily. Brother Sun and Sister Moon laid down a curse of ugliness which lodged deep into the very soul of every goblin, and the gods bound all goblins to that curse, and each to each, and each to all. Every time a goblin looks in a mirror or at another goblin, they’re reminded not to dishonor the gods.”

“I shouldn’t like to be ugly all my life,” said Lady Lexi. “Especially if I lived forever, like the goblins.”

“It’s been a long time, and I’ll bet Brother Sun and Sister Moon feel the same way,” Nanny Violet said. “They must regret their curse, so terrible and so final. We all know they are gentle gods at heart.”

“When I grow up, I’m going to be like Granny Beverly,” Lexi said. “I’ll make a spell to turn the goblins pretty again.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Nanny Violet smiled at the girl’s determination.

She didn’t say it couldn’t be done. That no one could change the will of the high gods. What would be the point? Besides, the world was a strange and mysterious place. Anything could happen. And Lexi was special. You could tell, just looking at her.

“I will!” Lady Lexi frowned and flounced her quilt.

She looked so innocent, and yet so determined, that Nanny burst out laughing.

“The goblins will be released from their curse,” Lady Lexi cried. “I’ll make Mr. Max beautiful again!”

And Nanny Violet more than half believed her.

« Chapter 11 »
Lexi