Keys and Curses (Shadow Book 2) (18 page)

“I had a dream about the whole world.” Mudface aimed the words at her book. They tumbled out as though she was ashamed of them, but couldn’t hold them in any longer. “I saw all of Shadow. I think I saw some of Dream too. There were so many sad things in both worlds I felt my soul weep. I feel like my soul has been in mourning for the injustice in the two worlds ever since.”

Flower stared at the fairy in utter astonishment. She really was the most unfairylike creature she’d ever met, but she didn’t want to offend her by mentioning that. “Is that why you always wear black?”

Mudface nodded. Her voice dropped still lower. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course.”

“I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to leave the village.”

“Everybody’s going to leave the village dear,” Flower said. “You can’t possibly stay now the fetches have found you.”

Mudface shook her head. “You don’t understand. I’m going to leave. I know the Lord of the Gourd will be upset, but she can’t stop me.”

Flower closed her mouth, which had dropped open. “But Mudface, whoever heard of a Bloomin Fairy leaving her clan?”

Mudface gave her a defiant look. “Fifty years ago nobody ever heard of a girl being Lord of the Gourd, but that’s just how it is now.”

Flower couldn’t argue with that. “What will you do?”

“I want to work for newspapers in Shadow City. And I want to get my book published.” She hugged the book to her chest, and for the first time a spark of animation entered her voice. “I want to expose injustice and make Shadow a better place to live. How could I live with myself, knowing what the worlds are like, if I settled for a life with them?” She gestured toward the shelter.

Flower made her voice as gentle as possible. “But sweetheart how will you do all this? The Guild has a stranglehold on the newspapers, they won’t print anything truthful.”

“Then I’ll find a way to make everyone read my book.” Mudface’s mouth set in an obstinate line. “It’s important.”

“But they’ll kill you!”

“Not before I make a difference.” Mudface looked up at Flower, her eyes wide in her dirt-streaked face. “You’re going to help me.”

“I’ll do what I can, honey, but-”

Mudface cut her off with three words. “You’re my muse.”

“No I’m not.”

“Are too.”

Flower played with the key around her neck and tried to make her words as gentle as possible. “I’m sorry Mudface, but only humans have muses. It’s unheard of for a fairy to need one.”

“Then you tell me why I’ve done nothing but write since you arrived? My book is nearly finished, and it’s because of you.”
Flower shook her head. She needed to squash this notion right away, before Mudface got carried away with it. “Impossible. It’s just a coincidence.”

Mudface shrugged. “I don’t care what you say. You’ll see it’s true.”

Heavy footsteps crunched in the dry leaf litter under the beanstalks. Flower and Mudface fell silent until Fitz and Nikifor appeared.

Flower darted forward, more than a little relieved to be rescued from the rather intense conversation. Nikifor had not a scratch on him, although his hair was knotted and tangled and his tunic torn. He had a curious, sharp look in his eyes, quite suddenly all there in a way she’d never seen in him before. Fitz, on the other hand, looked terrible. His skin had gone pasty white under his beard. The wrinkles on his face were deeper than ever and he leaned heavily on Nikifor.

Flower put her arm around his shoulders to support him from the other side. “What happened? Are the fetches gone?”

“Everything’s gone.” Nikifor’s voice was grim.

“Fitz are you hurt?”

He shook his head. “It’s the backlash. I’m too old for this kind of thing now.”

“Backlash?”

“He used sorcery on the false muses,” Nikifor said. “It was magnificent!” He stopped and clapped a hand over his mouth when the boom of his words made the leaves tremble.

“It’s the only way,” Fitz said. “They are creatures born of sorcery and who knows what unholy science.”

Flower said nothing because she was frankly uncomfortable with the whole concept of sorcery and what little science she’d ever witnessed hadn’t been much better. Instead she helped Fitz to sit down in her place next to Mudface.

A few Bloomin Fairy faces had appeared out of the shelter at the sound of Nikifor’s exclamation, and now they came streaming out, pale and hopeful, to gather around Fitz. For once they were silent. Several fairies carried the Lord of the Gourd on a little wooden platform and set her down in front of Fitz.

“Speak, Great Clip Clop,” the Lord of the Gourd commanded. “What has the stinkies done to our village?”

Fitz slowly shook his head. “It is my grave duty to report to you a disaster Madam,” he said. “Your village has been destroyed.”

“By the stinkies?”

“No. Nikifor killed all the fetches. Your village was set upon by false muses and burned to the ground.”

“What’s a false muse? Are they false muses?” The Lord of the Gourd gestured at Nikifor and Flower.

“Smoke people,” Mudface said.

“Smoke people!” The Lord of the Gourd scowled so hard her wrinkled face folded in on itself. “We hate smoke people!”

The fairies burst out talking and shouting in dismay. Several of the men and two women broke into noisy tears. The noise continued until the Lord of the Gourd held up her hand for silence.

“Everything burned?” she sounded plaintive.

Fitz nodded. “Everything.”

“What are we going to do?” yelled Pumpkinhead.

“Lower your voices for a start,” Fitz replied. “They may still be searching for you. Lord of the Gourd, I beseech you to reconsider my offer. Let me guide you to a safe place in Dream, where you can rebuild your village and replant your crops. Just until the danger passes, and then we’ll bring you back here.”

The noise swelled until the Lord of the Gourd thrust up her hand for silence again. “I will consult the Gourd.”

The fairies crowded around. The Lord of the Gourd produced the Gourd from her blankets.

Flower could have cheerfully strangled the old woman for wasting time with the shrivelled old thing, but she held herself in check when she saw the patient way Fitz observed the ceremony. She would not have it said that an enemy of the king was a better diplomat than she was when it came to fairy welfare.

The Lord of the Gourd laid the Gourd on the ground, pushed aside a pile of leaf litter and dug up a handful of dirt. This she sprinkled over the Gourd, all the while muttering under her breath. Then she looked at Fitz. “I needs blood.”

Flower grimaced in revulsion, but Fitz simply held out his hand.

“No.” The Lord of the Gourd pointed at Nikifor. “Crazy blood is best.”

Nikifor crouched by the Lord of the Gourd and gave her his hand, palm up.

She grinned, revealing a mouth of broken teeth. Then she produced a tiny dagger from inside her blankets and made a small, swift cut on Nikifor’s hand. Nikifor flinched, but let her hold the wound over the Gourd.

Three drops of blood fell on it. The Lord of the Gourd smeared the blood and the dirt into the shrivels and wrinkles, her eyes slowly closing while she mumbled under her breath.

Then she stopped. The silence went on for a full five minutes, until Flower couldn’t stand it anymore.

The Lord of the Gourd let out a long snore.

“What does it say?” Pumpkinhead yelled.

She started awake, drew herself to her full three feet and raised her head. She was the most regal thing Flower had ever seen while she looked over her people. “Gourd says we go with the Great Clip Clop,” she said. “Make new village and new crops in Dream.”

Then she sat down, curled her blankets around her, put her head down and resumed snoring.

Moving the Bloomin Fairies on for the rest of the day was no easy task, but Fitz did it. Flower secretly marvelled at how he recovered from his exhaustion and gently, patiently herded them all through the endless carrot fields, but she was determined not to admit to it. He was still an enemy of the king.

She stayed around the edges of the group and kept fairies from straying off, or getting distracted, or stopping for too long to dig carrots. She checked the sky every three minutes for signs of another attack, but no shadows fell. Even so, as the day wore on she grew anxious about the coming of nightfall. Moon Troopers must surely be on the march in search of them all by now.

It was late evening before she got the chance to tackle Fitz with the barrage of questions plaguing her. When he dropped into step beside her she started before he could even open his mouth to speak. “Where are we going to hide the fairies for the night?”

“I know a safe place.” He sounded tired.

“How are we going to get them to Dream? The longer we’re here the harder the Guild is going to look for them.”

“I’m afraid that’s the difficult part.”

“How? How is it difficult? Aren’t you going to use your sorcery?”

He shook his head. “Cutting a door into Dream is easy. The trick is getting it to go to the right part of Dream, because that world is enormous compared to ours. If we end up in the wrong place with a whole clan of Bloomin Fairies, they could be in more trouble than they ever dreamed.”

“I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I do. Listen Flower.” He lowered his voice. “Your key acts as a conduit between the worlds, yes?”

Flower closed a protective hand around the key. “Why do you want to know?”

“I need to know if it is possible somebody else could be using it to find you. Perhaps to haunt you and Nikifor, for want of a better word.”

“Certainly not!” Flower couldn’t even find the words to express her outrage. “The very idea.” She turned her back on him and walked away before he could ask any more awkward questions. The king would be very angry with her if she gave muse secrets away to his enemy. Of that she was quite sure.

Fitz led them unerringly into the corridor of rocky country between Quicksilver Forest and the carrot fields. The path looked so shabby and treacherous Flower never would have thought of going down it; but when they set their feet between the thorn bushes on one side and the pink-streaked boulders on the other, the track turned out to be perfectly respectable and well-trodden. It sloped down so gradually she hardly realised the rocks were getting higher until savage cliff faces loomed right overhead.

Fitz veered off the path and took them right through the centre of a loose, snarly bramble that scratched her face and hands. The Lord of the Gourd woke up and told Pumpkinhead off when a branch almost knocked her off her litter.

One the other side of the bramble yawned a big, dark cave mouth. The Bloomin Fairies streamed in without a second’s hesitation, already talking about food and passing the carrots they’d picked along the way between each other.

Flower followed them all inside, to find the cavern was big enough to fit them all in with space to spare. Better still, it was high enough for her and Nikifor to stand up straight.

Several women set to work lighting a fire in the centre. Once they were all in, Fitz and Nikifor rolled a huge wooden board made for the purpose across the doorway.