“Said the dragon to the virgin,” Talia muttered.
Trittibar continued as if he hadn’t heard. “Quickly now, before young Peter recovers. We wouldn’t want to use another enchantment. Too many spells in one morning aren’t healthy for a growing boy.”
“How do we get in?” Danielle asked.
Snow was already reaching down to take something from Trittibar. She held out her hand to Danielle. A tiny brown speck, no larger than a flake of pepper, lay in the middle of her palm. “Eat this.”
Talia caught Snow’s wrist. “We don’t even know what that is.”
“You don’t think you can fit through my doorway looking like that, do you?” Trittibar asked. “Even if you could, think what you’d do to my furniture!”
“The queen trusts him,” Danielle said. She pressed the tip of her finger to Snow’s palm. The speck stuck. She brought her finger to her mouth, touching the tip to her tongue. Whatever it was dissolved almost instantly, with a faint, bitter taste which reminded her a little of pickles.
A wicked grin spread over Snow’s face as she took Danielle’s hand. “Hold on, Princess.”
Snow’s fingers began to grow, her hand enveloping Danielle’s. Soon, Snow’s index finger looped around Danielle’s wrist. The wall stretched upward, as did Snow and Talia. Danielle’s shoulder twinged as her arm was pulled up, until she hung from Snow’s grip. Her feet kicked the top of the grass. By now, Snow held Danielle’s hand with only her finger and thumb. Her other hand reached down to cup Danielle’s back and legs like a doll.
“Isn’t it fun?” Snow asked.
Danielle clutched the side of Snow’s hand. She knew she was no higher than before, but if she were to fall, she would tumble many times her own height before she hit the earth.
Snow brought her hand to the wall, where Trittibar waited with his arms ready. He took Danielle’s hands, guiding her down like a coachman leading his lady from a carriage. Her shoulders brushed the stones to either side.
“Welcome to my humble home, Your Highness. Do watch out for spiders.”
“Spiders?” Danielle’s hand went to her sword, which had shrunk along with her. Given her size, even the smallest spider would be as large as her head. She searched the shadows overhead for any sign of motion.
Trittibar chuckled. “Most ladies of your station would scream at my little jest. I hope you’ll forgive me. You have my word, there are no spiders in my home. I deal with enough vermin in my position as ambassador.”
He stepped back, motioning for Danielle to follow. The gap in the stone widened farther back, giving him room to squeeze past her. “Princess Talia.” He extended his arms and waited as Talia shrank.
Talia ignored him. Without a word, she jumped from Snow’s hand and joined Danielle in the darkness.
Outside, Snow touched her tongue to her hand. She seemed a giantess as she reached out to grab the ivy on the wall. Her grip tightened as she shrank. She brought her other hand up to catch a leaf directly above the crack. Switching both hands to the leaf, she swung her feet back and forth like a child, then jumped.
Trittibar tried valiantly to catch her, but only managed to break her fall. They tumbled to the ground together. Snow was giggling as she pushed herself off of the ambassador.
“Graceful as always, Princess Ermillina,” said Trittibar. He accepted her hand, and Snow pulled him to his feet. Dusting himself off, he glanced out one last time to check on Peter. “If you’ll come with me, ladies?”
The stones of the inner wall were as thick as Danielle’s arm was long. At least, when she was her normal size. The wall itself was three stones thick. For someone Trittibar’s size, an entire mansion could fit within this wall.
To her right, two white feathers hung suspended by the quills, covering a slender doorway. The feathers seemed to interlace, bound so tightly they appeared to be a single feather with two shafts. Trittibar clapped his hands, and the feathers parted to reveal a miniature apartment.
“Please leave your shoes at the entryway,” Trittibar said, stepping past them.
Danielle kicked off her boots and followed him inside. Her feet sank into soft mole fur. “It’s very . . . tall.”
It was like standing inside a tower. Two stones had been left out of the middle of the wall, creating a tall hollow space. Danielle wondered if it had been built this way originally, or if this was a later addition.
Wooden steps spiraled up the rock. She knew they were within the palace walls, and that this entire space would be less than half her height, but at her current size it seemed to stretch up forever. Thin shafts of muted sunlight showed where other cracks led to the outside world. Wooden platforms jutted from the rock, suspended by golden threads and beams made of oak twigs.
The air smelled of maple syrup. Bookshelves lined the far wall, though not nearly as many as the library beneath the palace. Velvet-cushioned chairs sat to one side. To the other, a blue flame heated a silver kettle.
“Fire is hard to maintain at this scale.” Trittibar used a metal poker with a hook to retrieve the kettle. He smiled at Snow. “You’ve seen how fast twigs burn. Magically shrunken logs are little better than twigs. I used to use a normal-sized candle stub, but I like this better.” He poured himself a cup of tea and sat down, still watching Snow.
“What does this have to do with Prince Armand?” Talia said.
Trittibar raised his hand, still watching Snow. “Well?”
“You slowed the flame,” Snow said. She walked to the mantel and retrieved three more teacups. Clearly she had been here before. “It’s hardly flickering at all.”
“Very good.” Trittibar poured the rest of the tea. “Speed it up again, if you can.”
Snow handed the cups to Danielle and Talia, then knelt in front of the fire. She touched her choker and muttered to herself. Orange light rippled through the flame, then disappeared again. Snow took a deep breath and tried again.
“Remember, this isn’t witchcraft,” said Trittibar. “You’re fighting fairy magic now.”
“I thought the wards in the walls prevented fairy magic,” Danielle said.
“They do.” Trittibar grinned. “Fortunately, we’re inside the wards. What good is mail to a warrior who stands within one of the links?”
“And the magic you used to shrink us?” Talia asked.
“Would have triggered the wards if Snow hadn’t been here to muffle them.” He turned to Snow. “The fire still burns.”
Snow shook her head. “I can see the spell, but I can’t break it.”
“The trick isn’t to break it,” Trittibar said. He snapped his fingers, and the flame turned green. “Simply redirect the power.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Talia said.
“Keep trying.” Trittibar twirled the braid of his beard around one finger. “Beatrice tells me you believe Armand to be in Fairytown.”
“And she told us you’d help,” Talia snapped. “Are you going to tell us how to get into Fairytown, or are you going to waste our time with games?”
“Talia, please,” Snow said. “Trittibar is—”
“No, my dear,” said Trittibar. He sipped his tea. “I know the tale of Sleeping Beauty. She has earned her hatred. But before you loose your rage on me, tell me this. If your friend can’t defeat my meager powers, how do you hope to overcome the magics of Fairytown?”
Talia didn’t answer. The ambassador turned to Danielle. “The queen tells me there was an attempt on your life?”
“Three,” said Talia.
“My stepsister tried to kill me in my bedroom,” Danielle said. “They also summoned a demon, a Chirka, which attacked us when we went to my old house. And there was a troll who tried to kill us, too.” She tasted the tea. It was too thick and sweet for her liking, and she set the cup on the table.
“An acquired taste,” Trittibar admitted. “So they’ve taken Armand to Fairytown. But how would they gain entry?” He continued to twirl his beard as he muttered to himself. “Noble blood gives each of you the right, but your stepsisters would require special dispensation from a fairy of the pure caste.”
“Charlotte leaped off of the north wall and flew away to escape the guards,” Danielle said. “How hard would it be to sneak into Fairytown?”
Trittibar pointed to Snow, who was talking to herself as she studied the fire. “Your friend is a moderately skilled witch, but she’s yet to break my control of the flames.”
“Maybe I would if you’d stop distracting me,” Snow said.
Danielle rose without speaking. She picked up the teapot, nudged Snow to one side, and flung the contents into the fireplace. Sweet-smelling smoke burst from the wood as the flame fizzled and sparked. Turning back to Trittibar, she said, “Now will you help us?”
“I see why Beatrice likes you,” Trittibar said. “But the walls of Fairytown are harder to break.” He stood and walked toward the stairs. “How much do you ladies know of Malindar’s Treaty?”
Talia cocked her head at Snow. “She could probably recite it.”
“Fairytown hosts the only surviving fairy hill for hundreds of miles in any direction,” Trittibar said. He grabbed a large, leather-bound book. The cover was inlaid with silver, engraved to resemble a swiftly moving river spilling down the book’s spine. “Through that hill lies another world, and the source of our magic. As you can imagine, we guard our city well.”
He tapped the spine of the book, and the silver river began to flow. Glittering water rushed from the book to splash upon the floor. The metal continued to fall, but the small puddle on the floor never grew, nor did the metal in the cover diminish. He opened the book and stepped back, leaving it balanced upon the rippling falls. “You know this image, I assume?”
The painting was similar to the tapestry in Danielle’s quarters. An army of human knights and wizards faced the strongest of the fairy creatures: giants, trolls, and even a dragon or two. Dead from either side littered the trampled grass. There were more human corpses than fairy, but the humans still outnumbered their foes.
“Few of your kind realize how close we were to winning,” said Trittibar. “Another day, and all of Lorindar would have belonged to us.”
“How?” Talia asked. She pointed to the painting. “You were outflanked. Prince Reginald’s Silverlance cavalry cut you off to the north. Your only retreat would drive you east, where Queen Celeste had a small force of witches waiting.”
Trittibar pursed his lips. “Look closer.”
Danielle didn’t understand, but she did as she was told. Her head nearly touched Talia’s and Snow’s as they peered at the painting, which was far more detailed than any human work. Detailed and gruesome.
Danielle lacked the training to distinguish different units or interpret the military maneuvers like Talia did. To her eye, the fairies were both surrounded and outnumbered.
“I see them,” Snow whispered. She pointed to an area of trampled earth behind the prince’s cavalry, where armored corpses lay.
“Very good,” said Trittibar.
Talia snorted. “There’s nothing there.”
“But there is.” Snow touched a fallen archer. “A fairy hides behind his body. Three others crouch here, concealed by the horse. They’re everywhere.”
Danielle squinted at the page. “I don’t see—”
“You don’t see, because they were hidden,” Trittibar said. “These are my ancestors. My line long ago learned the secret of shifting our size. By the time the Battle of Fairytown began, most of your forces unknowingly carried fairy warriors in their packs, their tents, sometimes even in their armor. Every one of them was ready to die before allowing you to take that hill.”
“I don’t understand,” Danielle said. She pointed to the horse. “It’s a painting. How do you paint something that’s unseen?”
“
She
sees them,” Trittibar said, nodding at Snow. He pursed his lips. “Unfortunately for us, so did Malindar. He was a clever one. Young and foolhardy, but clever. Exposing us would have forced us to attack before we were ready, but the result would have been the same. Instead, the bastard pretended to flee. He and a handful of your wizards and witches then snuck back around, to the river. With our forces rallied to meet your army, Malindar managed to slip past us and enter Fairytown. He used the magic of our own hill to sunder the island.”
Trittibar shook his head. “He would have sent all of Lorindar to the bottom of the ocean. Every last human would have died, along with most of my people.” He turned the page, and Danielle saw a young man accepting a curved, golden sword from a honey-skinned woman who wore armor of living wood. “We had underestimated the depth of your madness, the length to which you humans will go to stave off defeat. So the king and queen accepted your terms. Their only condition was that none of your kind ever again be permitted within the walls of Fairytown. We couldn’t risk the loss of our hill, and this was the only way to make sure nobody tried to finish what Malindar started all those centuries ago.
“The one exception is for those of royal blood. Your rulers insisted. They wanted free reign of the entire island. All others require the dispensation of—”
He stopped in mid-sentence and began to chuckle. “Trittibar, you diminutive old fool.”