Eleanore and Thalia saw them off in the crisp early morning air, dawn just a scant few moments away. It was somewhat saddening Bartleby and Reid were not able to see them off, and Eschen hadn’t sent any word at all. Pug was upset on Tourmaline’s behalf, irate with the standoffish ifrit for cutting contact, however his gnomish friend had quietly advised him seeing her might remind him of darker times now. Thalia had mollified him somewhat when she passed along Reid’s goodbyes, the Inquirer wrapped up in some budding emergency and unable to break away to see them off. Pug flitted up and gave each of the humans as large of a hug as he could manage, favoring Thalia with an overly dramatized kiss on the tip of her nose that won a laugh from the Warden.
Meanwhile, Tourmaline had already clambered aboard the owl. Pug was inclined to talk to her about her attitude, though he hesitated when he saw how pallid her hands and face were with fear. Her forehead glimmered with the sheen of sweat and her eyes furtively flicked over to regard him as she waited. Clearly she wanted him to hurry up and get this over with. Pug met Thalia’s eyes and apologized by way of a shrug and the Warden returned it with a small, sad smile.
“Don’t hold it against her, Pug. We’re not going to take it personally.” Thalia said gently.
“That’s right, she can just make it up to us next time you two come to visit.” Eleanore beamed at him. Pug smiled and promised himself he would visit again, at least.
He waved over his shoulder at the pair as he walked away, only to be brought short with an amused snort. It seemed as though being Queen of the owls meant Danica didn’t ferry people around anymore, now she had people for . This owl, who introduced himself as Cato, was tense and business-like, if polite. He allowed Pug the briefest of moments to settle in before taking off with nary a warning. Pug’s stomach dropped and he scrambled to put his arms around Tourmaline, who sat in front of him. Upset as she was, she still shivered and wilted as they rapidly gained altitude. Once he felt Tourmaline relax in his arms he turned his gaze forward.
Open fields criss-crossed with footpaths and roads and dotted with the occasional farmer sprawled out beneath them. He could already see the Wylde from this height, though the veritable sea of greenery was little more than a dark smudge in the distance. Cota seemed just as reluctant to speak as his Queen had been and Pug let him be. Instead he busied himself with Tourmaline, who was still wrapped in the blanket she’d been hiding under for the past several days. Her constant usage of the blanket had left it smelling something less than fresh, however he hadn’t been able to convince her to separate from it.
She kept it wrapped around her like a suit of armor, the only gap in the cloth a small slit she could see through. When he’d last been able to see it her eyes had glittered sullenly from the shadows and the skin around them was pale and unhealthy looking. Currently she was tucked against the tawny brown and dusty tan of the owl’s feathers, hunkering against the wind. His concern for his taciturn friend had only grown as she isolated herself from everything, though a part of him was hopeful once it was just the two of them she would open up a little. He took a breath, steeling himself and guarding against disappointment, and leaned over her shoulder to speak with her over the roar of the wind.
“How are you holding up?” Receiving no response, he took a risk and set his hand on her shoulder. “Tourmaline?”
He was hurt when she pulled away from him with a sharp jerk of her shoulder, though he’d be lying if he said he was surprised. There wasn’t much space on the owl’s back, even when you considered he was a sight larger than his unintelligent cousins, however Tourmaline still managed to pull far enough away from Pug to be hurtful. Pug withdrew the hand he’d put on her shoulder, leaning back and away from her. Given Cato’s apparent reluctance for conversation and Tourmaline’s behavior, Pug was disinclined to start a conversation to pass the time, instead withdrawing into his own thoughts.
Thoughts were less than pleasant. As the miles passed and fields grew sparse, with tracts of wilderness and wide ponds beginning to fill the vista below them, Pug’s mind wandered. Bartleby’s riddled phrases about cages whispered through his mind as disparate memories vied for attention. The first time he had met Jet and Tourmaline, the former introducing him to the latter as his new compatriot. An image of his wings, torn and bloody in the mud, transforming into Eleanore’s smiling face as he flew with the wings she gave him. The shock traveled up his arms when he struck with his spear. Poison weeping darkly from wounds he’d inflicted. The merchant, melting and burning to ash even as his voice mocked.
Before he knew it he was breathing in shallow gasps, hands and face numb with more than the chill bite of high altitude wind. A sprawling, thinly tentacled thing spread from the center of his chest. It curled around his heart and crawled along his veins, sapping him of strength and leaving behind a feeling as frigid and unforgiving as ice. Pug knew it was naught but his own mind turning on him, however he couldn’t help but falter as he began to panic. He imagined he felt this manifested, tentacled fear growing from his wings, burrowing through his flesh as it cored him like a fruit.
No fairy can survive without his wings. He remembered. It was common knowledge, wasn’t it? Did a part of me die back there? What took its place?
He was forced to pull himself together as Cato began his descent. Pug was surprised to see the Wylde stretching out beneath them as far as he could see to every side. A part of him wondered how long he’d been trapped in his thoughts, though he quelled line of thinking quickly rather than risk falling back into those negative ideations. Instead he regarded the gnome burrow, the solitary guard out front coming into focus as the owl plummeted sharply through the air. Despite his speed Cato managed a pleasant landing and Tourmaline was off as soon as he hit the ground, almost running back to the burrow. Pug leapt off after her, prompting Cato to hoot at him.
“Are you staying here? As I understood it I was to take you somewhere else.” Cato squawked, eyeing the ruffled feathers where Pug and Lina had held on too tightly with no small measure of dissatisfaction.
“I need to talk to my friend for a moment. Would you mind waiting?” Pug asked over his shoulder.
“I suppose I could use the rest. It will allow me to fix this mess as well.” Cato sighed before beginning to preen his feathers.
Pug rushed after Tourmaline, catching her before she could scurry underground. He snatched at the blanket covering her, heaving on it to stop her in her tracks. Tourmaline whipped around, irritation writ across her face. Pug was taken aback by the sudden expression of emotion, expecting the same flat, dead look he’d become accustomed to over the past few days.
“At least say goodbye before you take off.” He half-jested, trying to alleviate the tension with a weak smile.
“I’m sorry Pug, I didn’t mean to be so callous.” Tourmaline’s expression softened as she read the uncertainty and concern on his face.
“Are you alright? You’ve been withdrawn since we got the news about Jet.” Pug asked, wincing at his own bluntness. He continued hastily, hoping to soften his words. “I don’t want to leave you alone like this. I can stick around for a while, if you’d like.”
“I’m not alright, Pug.” Tourmaline’s expression soured somewhat, becoming bitter, though none of it was directed at Pug. “One of my closest friends is gone, I’m not even sure what happened to him. I’m just afraid, and I’m worried about what happens next.”
“What happens next?” Pug asked gently.
“I think my dad was right, Pug. The world is too dangerous for people like us.” Tourmaline bit her bottom lip before continuing. “Maybe the only reason we get by is because we’re too small and too hidden for anyone to care about.
“You know that’s not true. We made a difference there, with the Merchant.”
“Only after it was too late to matter. We’re so small compared to them!” Tourmaline whispered harshly, and Pug knew she was talking about the humans as much as the Merchant. “I wasn’t able to fight the humans that hurt you, or that monster. All I could do was watch.”
“You freed all of those prisoners. You mattered, Lina, some of them wouldn’t have survived without you.” Pug tried to assure her however it hardly seemed to phase her.
“Not all of them. How many failed to escape and died in the fire? I killed them. I told Eschen to burn through the cages.” Tourmaline buried her face in her hands, shoulders rocking as she fought back tears.
“If you hadn’t freed yourself, hadn’t created all chaos, the Merchant might have won. Breaking yourself down over hypotheticals isn’t helping anyone, Lina.”
“And then there’s .” Tourmaline scoffed, a scornful laugh bubbling up through snot and tears. “You seem so detached from it, like you hardly care. And then I get so angry with you, even though you tried so hard and lost so much. And it was all because of me, if I hadn’t asked you to help me you wouldn’t have lost your wings. How could you not tell me about your name, and your wings? I’ve been insulting you the whole time I knew you and you just let me do it.”
Pug rocked back on his heels, stunned by the sudden outburst. Tourmaline was rambling incomprehensibly now, her tears finally overtaking her ability to speak. A flash of pain and guilt had seared its way through his heart when she said he didn’t care and Pug had to take a moment to stabilize himself. She was vulnerable and hurting, and she’d held onto every burden without sharing and now even the smallest grain of sand weighed as much as a mountain on her flagging spirit. Pug gave her time to calm down, her breath hitching as she fought with her feelings, and used time to think out his reply to his friend. A thoughtful explanation was the least she deserved after all she’d been through.
“I’m not sure why I’m so numb to this. I agonize over it myself, and the only consolation I have is the fact that, if I truly didn’t care, then I wouldn’t be so distressed about not caring. I might break down crying when I get home, for all I know.”
Pug gave a sad smile, though Lina could not see it, before continuing, “Besides, it’s not your fault I got hurt. Jet was my friend too, I would have searched for him with or without you. I’m glad we went together, even if it turned out like it did.”
Tourmaline had stopped crying completely now. She watched Pug with red, puffy eyes and her lips quivered as she listened. It hurt to see her so uncertain, but he was beginning to realize no one could be strong all the time. He got the feeling his time of weakness wasn’t too far ahead either. He gave her hair a tentative stroke to comfort her as he continued.
“As for the name thing, it’s not your fault I introduced myself under a nickname. You couldn’t have known, and you never once hurt me by calling me Pug. I’m honestly more used to it now than my real name.” Pug paused a moment before chiding softly. “So don’t you dare go calling me Foxglove. It’s embarrassing.”
Tourmaline let out a huff of amusement at . “I just don’t know if this is right for me. Being outside frightens me so terribly now. I want to adventure, I want to explore, but I’m worried I’ll stop wanting to soon. the fear will eat up my enjoyment of one of the few things I used to share with Jet.”
“Hey, just take a little time. Hold on to your pack and your alchemy kit and we’ll rebuild your courage bit by bit.” Pug grinned at her. “I’ll be by to visit once I’m sure your dad has cooled down, and we’ll take baby steps getting you back into the swing of exploring. Okay?”
“Okay.” Tourmaline snuffled, returning his smile.
Pug escorted her to the mouth of the burrow, the gnome nearly sprinting in her eagerness to get under cover. His heart ached to see the brash young gnome so cowed, but he thought her resilient enough to turn the tribulations and horrors of the past weeks into courage and wisdom. He’d be along to help when he could as well. Pug made to hand off a letter detailing Jet’s fate to the guard at the entrance when Tourmaline stopped him, hand on his wrist.
“No, I’ll tell her. It’s my responsibility to.” Pug was gratified to see determination in her face. He had penned the letter to spare her the hurt of telling Diamond, however if she felt up to it he wouldn’t stop her.
“Goodbye, Pug.” Tourmaline said quietly.
“See ya later, Tourmaline.” Pug replied and then she was gone, disappearing down the murky tunnels like a specter.
Pug bid the guard goodbye, the stoic gnome looking on impassively and not deigning to reply. He rolled his eyes and walked away. Clearly he still wasn’t much appreciated around these parts. Dark, familiar despair began to creep up on him again as he clambered onto Cato’s back, but having it out with Tourmaline had relieved some of the stress. He found he was capable of warding it off more ably than before and as he turned his thoughts to home the chilling fear trying to clench around his heart began to warm and loosen. Cato beat his wings fiercely and they leapt into the air, leaving the clearing silent and calm under the watchful eyes of the guard once more.
***
Pug had Cato leave him on the forest floor rather than landing somewhere in the trees or village itself. Perhaps it was childish but Pug considered the start of his journey with Lina to be when they stepped on the elevator together and he wouldn’t feel like he was truly home until he ended his adventure as it began. The fairies milling about on the ground by the elevator greeted him, if not warmly, then with familiarity. They eyed his wings but remained tactful enough not to blurt their questions at a weary traveler returning home.
The elevator deposited him at street level with little fuss, the somewhat bewildered fairy stumbling onto the shadowed boardwalk. All around him were familiar faces, going about their everyday tasks. Wares and packages were ferried about, carted to and fro. People purchased goods from merchants, a few used magic to sweep the wooden slats made up the ground the village was built on. Several people noticed him, waving their greetings and calling out to ask where he’d been. Excitement and smiles died on their lips as the few beams of sunlight wove their way through the leaves struck his wings, causing them to glimmer brightly.
Pug paid them no mind. It wasn’t like he could change his wings, after all, and he was far more concerned with refamiliarizing himself with home. It felt foreign to him after so long apart, and he couldn’t help but feel like it had changed. Or rather, he had changed and he didn’t fit so well in the spot he used to. A posse of familiar faces approached and part of Pug was tempted to fly away rather than deal with them. He hesitated too long however, and a stiff arm shoved him, causing him to sway but failing to move his feet. For a moment, he was almost glad to see Kudzu and Belladonna. was, until the former opened his mouth.
“Hey mothman!” Kudzu sneered. “Looks like you finally took our advice.”
Pug looked at him with confusion. “Advice? What advice?”
“You got rid of those ratty old wings of yours! Remember? We were always telling you how nasty and dusty they were.” Kudzu laughed, but over his shoulder Pug could see the other fairies his age were far more concerned. Belladonna even put a hand on her brother’s shoulder, but he pulled away as he circled around Pug.
“These are weird, don’t get me wrong, but they’re up to our standards at least. Are these wings made of metal?” Kudzu asked, suspiciously benign.
It struck Pug this was all rather childish. He had better things to do than deal with Kudzu and whatever complex kept him from being happy unless someone else was suffering. Pug wanted to see his dad and Orchid, irritation flaring as realized he was just wasting his time with Kudzu. Pug went to leave, but Kudzu’s hand snaked out and tugged on one of his wings.
The pull was gentle, but the cold irritation flared intensely. Pug’s ears were filled with wet tearing sounds and a sickening pop. The taste of mud coated the inside of his mouth and his fists clenched, darkness sweeping over his vision. In a flash he whirled about, pouncing on Kudzu, taking the unsuspecting fairy to the ground. His arms pumped and his fists fell heavily, creating visceral impact noises and covering his hands in bright blood.
Kudzu’s hands pushed at his chest and others grabbed at his shoulders and arms, trying to haul him away from the poor fairy pinned beneath him. Still his hands fell like hammers, casting spatters of blood across the wooden planks. Part of Pug couldn’t recognize the people crowding around him, reaching out and grabbing at him, though he thought they should be familiar. He remembered Belladonna, and her friends being here. Where were they? The quiet, weak piece of him wanted to ask Kudzu, however the savage part pulled cotton over his mind and made it hard to think just wanted to keep hitting the threat right in front of him.
Strong hands snaked up under his shoulders and clasped behind his neck. Suddenly Pug was hauled up and away, legs kicking furiously as they lost purchase on the ground. A familiar voice, gruff yet kind, spoke to him.
“It’s okay boy. You’re safe, you’re home. What you’re going through, you’re reliving a memory.”
A memory?
“Deep breaths now. Take a look around, what do you see?”
Pug filled his lungs with air, even as his heart pounded along and told him he couldn’t. Blinking a few times to clear the fog from behind his eyes, Pug found himself reacquainted with his surroundings. All around him were fairies, people he’d known his whole life. Several were crowded around Kudzu, who was curled up on his side cradling his face. In fact, everyone was keeping their distance from Pug. Everyone but his dad, who had him in a hold, feet not touching the ground and wings pressed flat.
“Here, drink this.” Someone said softly, kindly. Pug’s head snapped around to see who spoke, startling Orchid and causing her to jump. In classic Orchid fashion, rather than be embarrassed she simply frowned at Pug in disapproval. Orchid’s outstretched hands held a small cup filled with water. He tilted his head back and opened his lips to accept the water, letting it wash away the gritty, earthy taste of mud still clung to his tongue.
Even though Pug had come to his senses and was cooperating, his father seemed to feel he shouldn’t take any chances. He hauled Pug away from the growing crowd, weaving around newcomers who were just now arriving and wondering at what all the commotion was. Pug could hear Orchid behind them, making excuses and calming down irate voices calling for Pug’s father to stop.She returned after a time, once Erinus had taken Pug far beyond the reach of the crowd. Setting Pug down, the two took up positions on either side of him, shepherding him down the familiar path home.
Pug measured his pace, walking almost in lockstep with his companions. He felt weak, exposed, shoulders drawn high like he was trying to hide behind them, his muscles quivering with tension. His awareness was called in every direction, an influx of information was simply too much for him to cope with, leaving the poor fairy confused and overwhelmed. Only the familiar presence at his sides kept him moving. He understood suddenly how Tourmaline had felt, for once he saw his home it was almost impossible to stop himself from running inside.
Inside the house Orchid took charge of him, gently but firmly guiding him into his dining room and pushing him into a chair. She got him a mug of hot cider and a roll of bread while his father got to work in the kitchen the next room over. Belatedly Pug realized the two of them were speaking to him, and likely had been for some time. It was only now he started to relax, the words reached him as the two talked about the village, their neighbors. It was all idle chatter, gossip, and small talk about things that were familiar but felt so strange to Pug. Without meaning to speak words erupted from him.
“Why do I feel like I’m hunted and exposed?”
Orchid and Pug’s father both paused mid-sentence. Emotions flashed across Orchid’s face too fast to register, but her eyes did seem to glisten wetly for a moment. Pug’s dad left the kitchen, pot beginning to simmer on the stove, and placed his hand on Pug’s shoulder, forcing Pug to look him in the eye.
“There’s nothing wrong with you son.” He said reassuringly.
“Then why can’t I make it stop?” Pug asked helplessly, looking into his father’s eyes in desperation.
“Your heart learned pain and danger. It can’t help but remember, doesn’t know how to forget and doesn’t remember much else.” He paused for a moment. “It’s bracing for danger to return.”
“But I’m safe now.” Pug whispered, though even to his own ears it sounded like he was questioning whether it was true. Whether he was saying it in an effort to make it real. .
“You are.” His father said confidently. “Your heart just has to relearn .”
The tension in his body didn’t ease, and his eyes still roamed back and forth searching shadows. However, somehow Pug felt like it was all a bit more manageable. He slowed his breathing and unclenched fists he hadn’t realized he had made. His father returned to the kitchen to finish cooking, and together with Orchid they ate a simple meal and Pug tried to allow himself to enjoy the simple conversation and familiar company.
Once the food was eaten he helped them clean the table and wash the dishes before moving into the living room. As the day turned to night Pug found himself slowly relaxing, able to smile and even make a sound almost passed for a laugh. He told them what he could about Thalia and Eleanore, and if he didn’t speak about his wings or Jet, then neither of them saw fit to question him about it. Still, he did not sleep until it all but took him by force, his hand clutching Orchid’s tightly and his shoulder pressed against hers as though he needed her support and feared her leaving. If he’d spoken to Orchid, she’d have made sure he knew she wasn’t going anywhere.
***
“Do you remember our deal?” The words weren’t really words, but sounds instead. The crash of the surf against the cliff, the crack of lightning splitting the tree, and all of it entirely too much for Baba’s little hut, which rocked under the strain.
“Hello to you too, Your Majesty” Baba replied curtly, not turning from her cauldron which was just beginning to simmer.
“You were not to leave your home. You were not to interfere with my plans.” Grumbled the flames heating her cauldron, suddenly dimming and burning low before resurging, speaking with great fervor. “Such was the price you paid to shirk your responsibilities!”
“Or perhaps you intend to reprise your role?” The wind murmured through the gap in her window.
“You know fully well, I don’t intend to do that.” Baba said evenly, throwing a few hairs from some unidentified creature into the cauldron. “I beg forgiveness, Your Eminence, but it was nothing more than an indulgence. A mistake.”
“Then perhaps I can set it right for you. A gnome and a fairy, small matters in the grand scheme of it all.” Said a crow’s menacing caw.
“And perhaps I let slip to the Court so many of your subjects ended up butchered at the hands of some dark creature.” Baba returned simply.
“You would threaten me?” The boiling cauldron chuckled as it roiled. “Seems to me to be a great length to go over a simple indulgence.”
“A threat? No, ut wasn’t a threat.” Baba reached into the folds of her robe and withdrew a handful of herbs, adding them to the cauldron. “If you touch a hair on either of their pretty little heads, I will reprise my role, take up my mantle again.”
The charged atmosphere of the hut dulled into a low hum as the voice considered this.
“Incidentally, that was a threat.”
“The both of them will report to the Court as soon as they are able.” This came from the keening of hawk overhead
“Did you not hear me?” Baba’s voice grew sharp, and the shadows lengthened, deepened. The inside of the hut did not look so much like a hut for a moment, glistening wet and hot and humid. No, for a moment they were in the belly of a beast.
“Worry not, elder. All good deeds must be rewarded, wouldn’t you agree?”
With the power in the room disappeared, like it had never been. Baba let out her breath in a hiss, driving her rage back into the corner of her mind where she kept such things. As her rage shrank so too did the shadows, though they were perhaps a bit sullen about it.Before she could return her full focus to the task at hand, a tiny knock was heard at her door. Sighing, Baba waved her hand and her door flew open, revealing a small fairy.
She was quite beautiful, delicate features and fine skin almost glowing in the light. Pale, but not in a sickly way, her hair flowed and floated around her. As she flew inside her tresses trailed behind her like raiment. Despite her frail beauty the fairy flew straight up to Baba, almost flying into her face.
“Pug’s back.” The fairy stated, arms crossed expectantly.
“Hello Orchid.” Baba said. As the silence stretched and the fairy didn’t return the greeting she continued. “I’d heard he was back already. Is there something I can help you with?”
“You knew what was going to happen to him when you sent him on that quest, didn’t you?”
Baba groaned inwardly. She wasn’t meek, this little one. Perhaps naive, if she didn’t understand just how dangerous it was to go around accusing people of things like . In another age Baba would’ve reacted quite poorly to such an accusation. The hut had just moments before hosted a guest who would have smote the girl for voicing it, even if it was accurate.
“Believe me Orchid.” Baba said carefully. “The future I saw for Pug was much worse than this one.”
Orchid looked at her thoughtfully for a time. Baba wanted to nudge the fairy aside so she could tend to her cauldron, however she knew if she did the little lady would only grow more onerous to host. After considering her words for a time, Orchid spoke again.
“So he was supposed to die. Am I right to assume you also had something to do with his survival?”
The child could learn to leave some things unsaid! Baba thought with a chuckle.
“I can’t say whether that’s the case, but you can assume what you’d like. If you have no other concerns…” Baba trailed off, gesturing at the cauldron which was beginning to boil over and was a concerning shade of chartreuse.
“You’re going to teach me magic.” Orchid said, flying side to side to remain in Baba’s face as the old witch tried to sidle past her to get to the potion she was brewing.
“I am?”
“You are. Pug isn’t going to stay down for long, and the next time he’s in trouble I intend to be there.” Orchid looked down at herself, her confident demeanor cracking for a moment to reveal her uncertainty. “I’m not sure what I could do for him if I stood beside him now.”
“Standing beside someone in difficult times is worthwhile all on its own.” Baba stated, finally pushing the fairy aside, gently, to get to her cauldron. Unfortunately the fluid, which was supposed to be a lovely violet, was now burgundy. With a huff of disgust Baba picked the whole mess up and walked outside to dump it, Orchid following close behind. “You’re certainly right though, he won’t be staying down for long”
“What do you mean?” Orchid asked curiously.
“The Faerie Queen has sent for Pug and Tourmaline. They’ll be expected to show up before the Court.”
“He’s in no state to walk down the street, much less appear before the Court!” Orchid’s wings beat furiously as she zig-zagged through the air in sharp, angry lines.
“We should be able to buy him a few months to recuperate, but there’s only so long I can delay it.”
“What do I do?” Orchid fidgeted with her gown, pulling at an imaginary loose threat.
“I suppose you’ll have to learn magic before then.” Baba called over her shoulder as she walked back into her hut, pointedly leaving the door open behind her. Orchid took the hint without any prompting, zipping inside after the old witch. A breeze, unnaturally cold for the time of year and climate, rasped by and nudged the door shut with a thud. The hag had taken an apprentice, something hitherto unheard of. Various entities turned their attention to the hut, curious to see exactly what this development would bring.
END
