P. M. M. Green

         I remember the day it all changed, and it came with a giggle. Deep in the bowels of my Master’s tower it trickled into the musty hall like an out of place ray of light. I had no choice. I had to look.

         It was an odd place that he kept it, not hidden as he later came to do, but centered prominently upon a round table amid the clutter of food barrels and chests. The cage was exquisite, made of ruby and shaped like a wide lantern with a long handle on top. And in it was the most extraordinary creature; dragonfly wings of pink and large eyes of shimmering rose, hair the color of blushed strawberry and a garment no more than gossamer to hide her slender body. She fluttered as I entered and I was startled simply by the sight.

         "Don’t be afraid, Kif," came the voice of my Master. "Tis only a Fairy." So taken was I by what I saw that I had not even noticed him.

         "A Fairy," I stammered. "But how..."

         "Purchased," he said. "An old crone in the market..."

         Somehow the image of that did not fit. My Master was a man of means, a wizard to the court, and the favorite of the Queen. It was not like him to be about visiting old crones; that was the stuff he would ask me to do. I wanted to see it better and so I approached—

         "Careful, Kif," my Master said, and at that the Fairy giggled again, only this time holding her hand to her mouth and falling against the bars as if to swoon. "What have you got there?"

         I had forgotten why I came. "I have the girl’s blood. I was taking it below."

         "Oh, yes," said my Master, instantly concerned and shooing me on my way with his hands. "We mustn’t neglect that. Do take that down right away."

         I did not want to leave the room but I knew it would spoil if I lingered. "Going, Master," I said and bowing my head low, I went to leave.

         "Kif," came his voice. "She was still willing was she? Did we pay her enough this time?"

         "Of course," I answered. "I saw to it."

         The girl’s blood was of particular concern; it had to be fresh. And the girl was not just a common trollop, but Mira, a resident of the east village. I did not know the whole story, but I came to understand that she was an orphan. I had met her on the streets of Sisel; she tried to pick my pocket when I caught hold of her wrist, and then it was her look of innocence that took away my anger. Had I not helped her then I have no doubt she would be selling herself at the docks like all the other forgotten doxies, but for some reason the sight of her moved me. I could not shelter her, but when my Master spoke of needing a virgin’s blood for a potion to keep the Queen looking young I decided to approach her.

         She came every month on the morning after the moon went full. We would talk for a time—how are you doing, keeping yourself safe, staying out of trouble, that sort of thing—and then we would move to the matter at hand. She would always wince as I brought up the subject, but then she would offer her arm and I would move the knife. It did not take much, only a flask, and for it I paid her well—more in fact than my Master knew.

         My Master, the Great Orton. If others could only see him as I once did they would not think him so great. The taking of the girl’s blood made him ill and so it was left to me, but secretly that was how I wanted it. Mira was more than just a virgin to me: she was something of my dreams. I never asked her of other boys, she knew that my Master needed her pure and I expected that she would keep that quality, but truthfully I did not want to hear if she had belonged to another. Some things even magic could not fix.

         It was cool beneath my Master’s tower. We did not live in the city but rather on a rocky rise near the water. There were caves under us, and water that could chill old bones. It was there we put the things that needed to keep; wine mostly, but of course Mira’s blood.

         It took a lot to take my thoughts off of Mira but the Fairy was something wonderful; only, when I returned to the storeroom the creature was gone.

 

 

         My Master did not speak of it. For weeks he kept it to himself, and for me that was new—he had never kept secrets before.

         "I’ve a new list of ingredients, Kif," said my Master as we sat across from each other. It was a fair feast we picked at, a roasted duck with garnishes, the first we had shared since that day. "Things you have not had to gather before. You may have to find some new merchants."

         "The Queen is asking for a new spell?" I asked, acting as if even then nothing was different but we both knew that something was.

         "Oh, no, boy," my Master chuckled. "I will cater to the Queen of course, but I am up for increasing my knowledge. I need just a few minor things to broaden my shoulders so to speak."

         "If anyone can learn new things, Master, it is you," I said between bites. "You’re the most renowned wizard in the Kingdom, and you have such a gift for remembering spells."

         "Ah, you are too kind," said my Master still smiling behind his thin graying beard. "I’ve not had much time for our lessons. I think we were turning mice into chickens when we left off. Have you been practicing?"

         "I have been doing my fire exercises," I said. "I was not as skilled as you at changing the mice, if you may recall, and they weren’t very edible afterwards."

         "Well," said my Master beating the arms of his chair with his hands. "This is a fine meal. Did you make this Kif? If your talent for magic should prove too common I think you would do just as well to serve the King in his kitchens."

         "Master," I started. I was not sure if I should ask, but his well-meaning mood gave me confidence. "May I ask a question?"

         "Kif," he said almost soothing. "You know I will always answer your questions. What is it you are wanting to know?

         "Master," I said. "I am wondering what became of the Fairy?" I thought the question was innocent enough, but I saw his mood change as I mentioned it.

         "Oh," he said. "I was hoping you had forgotten that, but I suppose there was little chance of it. Fairies have been enchanting boys older than you for centuries."

         "I did not mean to pry," I said, but my Master did not hear me.

         "Let me tell you something about Fairies, Kif. They cannot be trusted. The wiles they throw upon men are only an enchantment meant to deceive. Oh, they will bat their eyelashes and do the girlish pouting, but to them it is all a game, and if you are not ready they will turn you against your friends over even the smallest of matters. I have hidden the Fairy to keep her from harming you, but if you must know she is in the east study. I put a spell on her cage so she cannot escape."

         I did not speak but I think my Master could see my thoughts. "Kif," he said. "You must not go looking for the Fairy. You are not ready for her games."

         "I understand Master," was all I replied.

 

 

         The day I went to see the Fairy was probably the first time I had ever disobeyed my Master. The King had taken ill, and the Queen wanted my Master at her side for comfort. It was all on short notice and so I was left alone. I wrestled with my choice. I did not want to disobey, but I simply could not resist.

         I slipped into the library an hour after he left and put my feet gingerly upon the floor, and she was there: held within that shimmering cage as it cast off rays of sunlight in a myriad of tiny starlets. She was a tiny thing, but exquisite; she stood facing the outside window seemingly to feed off the warmth that filtered through. I approached slowly, but then she noticed. She spoke, not like the girls of the village, but with a voice like a flute producing notes that even children could not match. "You can sneak, you can stare, but I still know you’re there."

         "You spoke..." I said astonished. I did not know she could. She turned then and faced me in that all-revealing gown, and with her hand to her lips she gave the quietest little giggle. "But how?" I asked, and then thinking better, "Do you have a name?"

         "Fairy Rae, Fairy Rae. Bright as the day."

         I suppose I should have questioned her prison even then. She was not like a bird, or a butterfly; she had a mind and should not have been caged—but I was young. I did not think yet of morality.

         "I am Kif," I said by way of introduction.

         "Kif, Kif. Boy set adrift," she piped and then she started twirling as if dancing to herself.

         I don’t know why it annoyed me. I think it was because I was more interested in her than she was in me; still, I regretted what I said next. "Is that all you do?" I accused. "Tell rhymes and giggle."

         Her expression changed, not once but twice in the span of only a few words. At first she had a fierceness to her, and was almost defiant, "Oh, no, Kif," she said, but then her chin dipped and her eyes took on a hurt expression and her mouth—Why, its pouting look alone could have worked a spell on me. "I can do so much more," she said, "but no one will let me."

         My Master had warned me, and I was ready; I would not be ensnared. "I am not supposed to be in here. I was only looking for a book." I grabbed the first volume that came into reach. It was a thick tome covering spells of sickness and disease, but it was enough for me to take my leave. I made for the door but then she called to me.

         "Kif," she said in a sing-songy way that was impossible to ignore. "Could you do me just one tiny-whiny, itty-bitty favor?"                  

         "What is it?" I said, holding the thick volume against my chest like a shield.

         "Locked in the cage like this I can’t reach my mushrooms, would you bring them closer?"

         How could I say no to that?

         "Of course," I said, but as I went closer to fetch them, she stood, and then drew her arms behind her back; her chest lifted up and through that all revealing gown I could not help but see her small feminine... Well, she was shapely. Standing next to her she was tiny indeed; she could have sat in my hand if I had freed her, but I didn’t have the thought. I handed her the first mushroom and at that she began to sing.

         "You give me food. You’re so kind, Kif. And now I offer you a gift."

         "A gift," I said, not understanding.

         "A gift, a gift, a little lift. A gift of any sort you wish."

         "What could you possibly offer me?" I asked naively, but how else could I have known.

         "A wish silly," she giggled. "Don’t you know that Fairies give wishes?"

         I had never thought on a wish before...Well, not a real one anyway. I did not know what I should ask for, and so I said nothing.

         "No wish?" she asked with that hurt and pouting look again touching her face. "Well, maybe when you come to play, another wish I’ll give away."

         It was hard to care for the loss of something I never had, and so I thought little on it, but I did begin to wonder. "Is that why the Master has kept you? Do you offer your wishes to him?"

         "Oh, no," groaned the Fairy, perhaps the only time I ever heard her do so. "Caught me, caught me, that he did. And so one wish I had to give," she sang it, and then something venomous came over her features. "But never another."

         "He caught you," I said puzzled, but then I thought on the wish. "What did he wish for?"

         My question seemed to upset the Fairy. She turned her back to me and folded her arms in a huff. "Spells" she chimed. "Any spell others discern, that he should know and they unlearn."

         "My Master is stealing spells," I said almost stunned.

         "But of course," said the Fairy. "How else for him to become powerful?" Then she extended her arm behind her, though still without looking. "Kif," she said. "Can I have another mushroom? This one is all... mushy."

         I shoved the entire bowl against her cage. "Thank you, Rae," I said. "It was good meeting you.”

         She giggled again. "You called me, Rae..."

 

 

         "There are challenging days coming ahead, Kif," said my Master as we dined together in the south room. "I fear the King will die soon, and the Queen will be left alone. There will be rivals for her throne, and not just from within; other nations may think her weak, and that Sisel is ripe for the conquering. I may not be around as much anymore—at least not for near term."

         "I understand, Master," I said as I pulled apart pieces of fish with my fork. My Master looked at me then with that expressionless gaze that he always gave when he worried about my growth.

         "Kif," he said. "The Queen needs to be at her best. We will need more of the girl’s blood than usual. Ask her, and if she agrees then pay her double."

         "Master," I started. "She was just here not two days ago, and she did not look well when she left. I really don’t think we should approach her." I spoke it with anger, but I did not know why.

         "Kif," said my Master. "I only wish for you to ask, there is no need for such a tone. It is not for me, but for the Queen, and the girl... What was her name, Myra..."

         "Mira!" I corrected.

         "Mira," he repeated and then he paused as if not understanding. "Ohhhh," he moaned. "I see—you fancy the girl."

         I hated the sound of that—as if there was something wrong in thinking of Mira. She was not just a girl; she was someone special, someone I wanted to look after.

         "Why don’t you ask the Fairy?" I flared out, and at that my Master’s face grew bewildered.

         "The Fairy," he said.

         "Yes," I insisted. "The Fairy. Doesn’t she grant wishes? Why not just wish the King was well?"

         "Kif, have you been to see the Fairy?"

         I did not answer, but my Master already knew. What did I care anyway? He had already lied to me when he said she was purchased from a crone—my Master was the first to hide the truth.

         "Kif," he scolded. "I asked you to stay away from that creature. She is far too clever for you at this time."

         "I am sorry, Master," I said. "I needed a book from the library. She did not say much, mostly she just giggled."

         "Yes, but she did speak of wishes—I need to know what she said."

         "She spoke of nothing. She just wanted me to help her reach a bowl of mushrooms."

         "You did not feed her?" My Master said rising from his seat. "Kif, Fairies are dangerous creatures. You must not go near her again. Promise me you will not."

         I would not promise. "It was only a bowl of mushrooms," I defended.

         "No, it wasn’t," screamed my Master. "I left no mushrooms for that creature. She is full of wiles, Kif. She made that bowl with her magic, and tricked you into helping her. Now, I want you to stay away from the Fairy. You must promise."

         "I promise." I spoke it, but I was not sure that I meant it. My Master was almost afraid that I might disobey, and that to me seemed like hiding.

         My Master sat back down, and restored his sense of calm. "I am sorry I was cross," he said, but then he added something more. "You will ask her...won’t you, Kif? About the blood."

         "I am sorry too," I said. "Yes, Master, I will ask her."

 

 

         "Did you hear?" said Mira. She sat across from me on that old, wooden chair that we had used so often. "They are saying the King died in his sleep last night."

         "The King is dead?" I was astounded, although after listening to my Master it was not completely unexpected. Mira was as beautiful as ever; long, dark hair, almost black, and big brown eyes that always seemed vulnerable. Her lips were full and expressive, and her hands were slender and soft. I just loved to be with her.

         "Yes," said Mira. "And that wizard you serve, old Otmo, is speaking for the Queen during her grief—”

         "Orton," I corrected.

         "Or—whatever," she scolded. "Where I live they call him old Otmo, there aren’t too many who like him. I expect the Queen fancies him though; she has kept him long enough. I imagine she is going to rule alone, so that is good for you, isn’t it?"

         "I don’t know," I said. "My Master says there will be a struggle. That the Queen must show she is strong or others may come to remove her. My Master has been preparing."

         "Yes," said Mira turning glum. "Well, I suppose we all have our part to do."

         "Yes," I repeated. I knew the moment had come. "I do hate to ask, but Master says I should pay you double this time."

         "I don’t know about this one, Kif," she said almost afraid. "I felt woozy after the last, and the cut is still fresh. It will hurt more than at other times."

         "You don’t have to," I said reaching forward to take hold of her hand. "We can make do. It is just that my Master is thinking the Queen will need more than usual... to get her through..."

         "I wish you would not put it like that," said Mira shying away from me. "I like the Queen, but it is so unnatural what she is doing, as if she could borrow my youth to restore her own. She is going to die too, you know."

         "Mira," I said, not knowing why. "Sisel needs her now. You would be helping us all in these terrible days."

         Mira sat for a time. She slid her hand away from mine and would not look on me. Finally she took a breath and let out a sigh. "Okay," she said. "I will do it. If not for the Queen then for Sisel, but I don’t know if I will do this again. I don’t think I can continue."

         "I understand," I said, but in my heart I felt a tightness: if she would not be coming back then how would I see her? I needed to find another way.

         "Kif," she said in a quiet voice. "You should know. There is someone else... A boy."

         Her words were like a dagger to my heart—I could not speak. I sat there stunned.

         "He is a nice boy," she continued. "Not rich like you, but I like him. He is very kind. We have done things together, I am not sure how much longer I may be ‘pure’."

         At that I cut her, and she winced, and then tears fell upon her cheeks. "I am sorry," I said. "I should have warned you first. I will only take enough to fill two, no more than that."

         She cried a little but it passed. I drained the blood; it trickled down the deep scars of her arm and dripped from her wrist into the flask I held. When I finished I used the salve, the one my Master had made to stop the flow. I was glad for the moments of silence—I needed them to retain my composure.

         "I am happy for you," I said. "You should be happy, Mira."

         "I am sorry, Kif," she said. "I often thought it would be nice if we could be together, but you are meant to be a great wizard, and I... I am just a girl with nothing."

         "No," I said soothing, although my heart was saying differently. "It is okay. I want good things for you. I want you to be happy... And don’t worry about the blood, we can find another—if we need more then we will just have to find another."

         "Yes," she said, and then she was quiet.

 

 

         It was hard for me to understand the emotions I felt at that time but somehow I was not ready to surrender, and when Mira announced she was not feeling well—and then fainted as she rose from the chair—to me it brought relief. I carried her to a room in the tower and put her in a bed to rest. She revived and said some things about having to leave but I would not have it. She was weak and needed rest.

         I gave her water and then left her to sleep. I promised her berries when she awoke but I was really in no hurry to get her on her way. I don’t know when the thought came upon me, but somehow my mind turned to the Fairy.

         I knew I promised, but I also knew I did not mean it when I did.

         "Welcome, Kif, you were missed. Yet still you look a boy adrift..."

         "The door was not locked, and I just wanted to stop in and say—"

         "Oooh! Did you bring me a gift?"

         Her pink wings began to flutter and her long lashes began to bat. I was still uncertain, perhaps a little nervous, but I went towards her ruby cage anyway. "It is just a few berries," I said. "I thought you might like them."

         "Berries blue, berries blue, berries make a girl true."

         "What?" I said. It seemed an odd thing for her to say.

         "Broken heart, cannot hide, I can see what is inside." She leaned forward in her cage, putting her tiny elbows against the bars and resting her chin upon her hands. She was looking at me with those big rose-colored eyes. "Poor Kif," she chimed.

         I smiled, sheepishly I think, but the Fairy was just more than I expected. "Yes," I said. "I wish to ask you about a girl."

         "Ask or wish, it’s not the same, a girl’s heart is not a game." Then she giggled and started to spin in circles.

         "Here," I said, pushing the berries forward. "These are for you."

         She stopped suddenly and looked at them. "Blue berries—I just love blue berries." Then she took one in each hand and began to eat.

         I watched her for a time, marveling at her form, but she seemed not to notice. I grew anxious. "Rae..." I said, and at that she giggled. "Do I get a wish?"

         "Silly," she said shooing me with her hand. "If you want her heart, then feed her smart. Give her a berry, and she’ll love you very."

         "That’s it?" I asked. I did not know how these things—these wishes—should work.

         "Give it time, that is all. It takes some time for hearts to fall."

         "Thank you, Rae." I said.

         I took the bowl of berries and went to leave, but then she called me again. "Kif," she said with that sing-songy tone. "Would you read me a story?"

         After what she had done, how could I refuse? I looked, there were plenty of books already upon the table and I took the one on top. It was not long but the Fairy seemed to like it anyway. She laid upon the floor of her cage with her hands beneath her chin, and her legs drawn up over her. Her wings, they just swayed as she listened, and her eyes watched me like large, round pools.

         The story was not one I would have picked if I had taken the time to consider. It was the tale of Saline, the last female dragon, and the quest of an Elvin mage to slay her. A spell was written for the task—one that the mage cast at the end. But, to his surprise, the power it used to kill the dragon also took his own life and so the tale ended in tragedy. Still if it made Rae happy, then I was glad to read it aloud. I put the book down as I finished and it was then that I noticed—all of the books on the table were of spells cast in one way or another.

         "Rae," I said. "Are these the books my Master was reading?"

         "Hmmm," said the Fairy. "He sits and stares upon that chair, but what he reads he does not share."

         "Did my Master gain that spell?"

         "Silly," she said with a giggle. "That’s now how wishes work. I do not know, that’s not my gift, to read his mind was not his wish."

         "I have to go now, Rae," I said. "I have to look in on Mira."

         "Kif," said the Fairy. "You’re kind of cute."

 

 

         Mira was still sleeping when I returned and I just let her rest. I sat in a chair at the corner and watched her. She was beautiful, and I felt awful. I did not know what kind of man I was becoming—Was it right to use the wish the Fairy offered, or should I take the berries away before she rose? I would like to say I was not the type to cheat at love but when I left her room the berries were not with me.

         I had much on my mind. The spells my Master was stealing could be dangerous, and if he had gained that spell, the one used against the Dragon in the tale, then he may not be aware of what he had. I was unsure of when he would return next but I knew I would have to find a way to warn him.

         Mira woke shortly before the evening meal and came down to join me. I did not ask if she had eaten the berries, I did not want to know, but as she sat in the chair that my Master would have used, she just stared at me. I spoke little and so did she, but from what I could discern she did not seem herself.

         "Kif," she said near the end of our meal. "Do you love me?"

         I did not lie. I could not lie. I offered to Mira that she should stay the night, but she wanted to go. When she walked out of the tower and onto the long beaten path back to Sisel she hesitated. "I am confused," she announced. "I don’t really want to go."

         "You don’t have to, Mira," I said. "You can stay—"

         "No," she concluded. "I have to."

         I was confused also. I did not know what would happen once she walked from my sight, and I feared that this would be our end, but what could I do? I would not act to stop her. "Will I see you again?" I asked.

         "Yes," she said. "When the moon is full."

 

 

         A storm was brewing when my Master returned, a rain that poured down from dark skies like a punishment from angry gods. I knew from the rough manner in which he entered that something was wrong, and I could tell from his appearance that he was not well; there was a smoky discoloration to his pale visage. He did not stop to remove his wet outer cloak, nor did he even make an effort to dry off, instead his heavy steps thundered through the hall as he strode and droplets of water stained the floor. "Kif," he said as he saw me. "It has been a dark day."

         I was unsure of what he could mean, but I knew better than to make light of it. "What is it, Master?"

         "I killed a man today," he said. "Actually two."

         "Killed," I said. "But how?"

         "It was Torva—Torva, and then his apprentice boy for cheating for him during the match."

         "You fought in a duel?"

         "I had no choice," my Master said. "He denounced the Queen right in front of her court. Called her weak and unfit to rule. I knew he would make such a move, and I had been preparing. We fought but he was much stronger than I thought—than he should have been. I need to see the Fairy. I trust she is still locked in the study."

         His eyes looked at me as if trying to see what I might hide but I gave him no reason to suspect, no reason at all to assume that I had visited Rae. "I wish to be alone," he announced and then he moved for the stairs. As he passed me I thought on the spell he must have gained.

         "Master—"

         "I know you have been to see her, Kif," my Master answered. "If you cannot obey, I will send you from my tower."

         The force of my Master’s words startled me, and so I said nothing, but then he turned away and rushed towards his study. I knew he was not really angry, that it was the events of the day that wore at his demeanor, but still his words hurt me.

         I waited for him to come back down. I even prepared a meal in case he should want it, but he did not come. I wondered what he was doing in his study, what it was that the Fairy had done to upset him, but I knew better than to ask. One thing struck me as odd though—I did not recall the study being locked.

 

 

         True to her word Mira came the morning after the moon was full and my heart danced as I saw her. "Mira," I said as I held the door. She smiled at me and then sauntered in. She went as she always did to the small room where we had our usual ritual and sat in the same chair that I always thought of as hers. I joined her there and sat in my own typical spot, nearest a small table that held the implements.

         She was quiet and that was a little alarming. I was not sure if I should say something, I did not want to be interrupting, so I too remained quiet. "Kif," she said finally. "I have been doing some thinking."

         I was loath for her to continue, but I was almost certain I could not bear it if she did not. "About what?" I asked.

         "About us..." She spoke, but she seemed so unsure of what to say next. "It’s just that... I mean, I know I am just a common girl, and... Well... I guess I don’t much care..." She looked at me then and I saw her gather the strength. "What I am trying to say is that I like you Kif. More than like. I think of you. I miss you when I am not here. Isn’t there someway..."

         It was a hanging question but I did not care about its implications. I decided to be bold. I took Mira’s hand and pulled her to me. I held her, and she held me. And then we kissed, and that we did not stop doing until tears fell from Mira’s eyes and I wished to wipe them away.

         "I will come back," she said. "Every month when the moon is full. I’ll come back and give up my blood just because I wish to see you."

         "No, Mira," I said. "I will not take your blood again. You come here whenever you like, but never for my Master, and never for the Queen. We have enough for now and we will find another way."

         At that Mira held me tighter and I—I was happy.

         Mira returned the next day and then the next day after that. She was such a radiant flower and I was all too eager to appreciate it. I did not want to keep my hands off of her and she made my efforts at control even harder by so often being near. I did not neglect my chores around the tower, and Mira was actually quite helpful when she wanted to be. We would eat together in the south room and share wine by the light of a fire. We played, and I would offer to give her a room in the tower, but every evening as the sun began to fade she would claim she had to go and I would let her.

         When she was gone I took to my studies with a new vigor. She wanted me to be a great wizard and I wanted to be it for her. I mastered the spells my Master would have had me study; I turned the mice into chickens and chickens into fish, I levitated objects and made brooms dance to my whim, I made scrolls write themselves and lights to float down the halls. But my real talent was with fire. With it I could send darts of flame in any direction I chose, or hold it flickering in my hands, or cover the ground around me with a blazing, protective ring. I was becoming a master.

         Mira appreciated it all—when I showed her—which was whenever she asked. And for each trick and conjuration I was rewarded with one of her affectionate kisses. I loved her, and I told her often, and on one night, when I could not keep myself from her any longer, we exchanged our vows in secret.

         My Master had been gone for nearly two months but I hardly cared. I had heard the rumors; there was trouble brewing, more than a few were wondering as to his ambitions with the Queen. But I knew my Master; he was a man born of duty, he would serve the Queen well. And besides, he was at the palace enjoying the wish he had made, and I was with Mira enjoying mine.

 

 

         It was early on a cold morning when I sent Mira to Sisel with a pouch full of coins and a list of things to buy, but as I saw her returning before even midday, and with nothing in her hands, I grew concerned.

         "Kif, you won’t believe it," she said even before she entered the tower. "The Queen has taken ill. They are saying she may not live. Some are claiming that your Master is behind her illness—that he is wanting the throne for himself."

         "What?" I said. She was right; I could not believe it. Surely my Master would not be behind such a plot. "Mira, that cannot be..."

         "I don’t know, Kif," she said. "Maybe your Master is not who you think?"

         "Mira, I’ve known him all my life. He would never turn against the Queen. He adores her. He will use his magic to save her, you will see."

         "What if you are wrong?" said Mira. "What if what the people are saying is true? What if old Otmo is using his magic for evil?"

         I could listen to no more. I loved Mira, but she was saying things that were just beyond comprehension. "Mira," I said. "Orton is not evil."

         "There is something else." Mira said, and I could tell from the way her eyes would not look on me, and from the way her finger started to twirl the ends of her long, dark hair, that it was something she did not wish to consider. "If you are right, and he tries to save the Queen, he may be wanting more from me... He may be wanting...the blood."

         "He won’t—" I started, but Mira did not let me finish.

         "Kif," she said with a resolve set on her face. "I think I am pregnant."

         "What..." I truly did not know what else to say.

         "I’m afraid," she said.

         "You’re..."

         "Yes," she said to confirm. "I think I am going to have your baby."

         I stood there frozen as tears began to fall from Mira’s eyes. "I understand," she said. "It was not supposed to happen. And now it will ruin everything. Your master does not know of us. He will not approve. He will send me away, and I will live as—"

         "No," I said, taking her into my arms. "No one will send you away. You are my wife. You will be with me always."

         At that Mira cried all the harder and I took her inside, never to fear being parted from me again.

 

 

         The days did not shine brighter in the weeks that followed. Mira was happy, and for that I was grateful, but it was the news from the Palace that overshadowed all else. The Queen lingered still but questions about my Master’s ambitions continued to gather. They were starting to call him by a new and fouler name—Otonimor the Storm-Summoner. And the storms were plentiful. Rain and thunder and streaks of light that split the sky crashed almost daily as dark clouds rested over the city in a seemingly endless gloom. There were rumors of arrests, council members and advisors who had disappeared, and worst of all my Master had killed again—an old confidant of the late King, struck in plain view by lightning because he tried to force his way into the Queen’s sick chamber.

         I feared the things I was hearing, more so now because I had a wife, and soon a child, to look out for. In my heart I still believed it was not as it seemed, but if it was... I knew I should not like it to remain. Mira spoke of it often. She implored me to leave with her to some place unknown, but I did not agree. The tower and Sisel were our future. I would be great one day just like my Master, and this darkness, I knew, would pass.

         The day my Master returned to the tower was a surprise to Mira and me both. He entered amid the torrent of another storm and came upon us like a shadow as we dined in the south room.

         "Master," I said at seeing him. "You have returned."

         "Kif," he said. There was a hint of familiar recognition in his face but I could tell from his gaunt appearance that he had been in the depths of a difficult journey; one that left even the familiar foreign to him.

         Mira was at great unease about his arrival and quickly took her leave. She left his seat for the safety of our room.

         "It has been too long," he said sitting again in his old chair. "I am sorry it has come to such struggle."

         "It is good to see you, Master," I said. "You have been away very long."

         "It is not safe, Kif," he spoke. "I have enemies now. And you are known to be with me. It would not be wise for you to leave the tower. Indeed, I myself may never again leave as well. If the Queen should die I will be all that is left to take the crown and many will want to keep me from it."

         "Master," I said by way of confession. "If the Queen needs more of the potions you make I fear that we cannot use Mira—"

         "What do I care?" he said with a scowl, and then rose from his seat. "If you want that common girl then have her. I did not rise to where I am only to be bound by useless conformity. Take whatever girl you like. I will not heal the Queen. I would rather see her die. The sooner that happens the sooner I can move against my enemies. Dark days still lay ahead, Kif, but soon there will be none to challenge me."

         With that my Master left the room and two days later the Queen was dead.

 

 

         Mira was not sleeping well, her pregnancy was starting to show and it only served to trouble her more. I was not sleeping either. My Master’s rise had not been bloodless; in the days after the Queen’s death he dissolved the council and imprisoned those he considered disloyal. There was a plot he uncovered, one to poison him with his wine, and its participants he struck dead in a storm. The clouds never seemed to fade from the sky, and even he himself was encouraging the use of his new identity—Otonimor the Storm-Summoner was becoming real before our eyes.

         Otonimor did not leave the tower, and with every instant he prepared. He turned the east study into a room for sorcery; magic mirrors to spy on his rivals and his court, wards to guard the way in, and the elements of his craft to be near when he needed. He had a perch to occupy him; a balcony from which he could watch the village and the sea for signs of attack, and the palace for the presence of a new rival. And he kept watch; letting those who would act on his bidding hear his commands from beneath his window, and never allowing any to enter the tower. The storm raged high overhead. It struck the land and the tower itself with crackling light, reminding all for miles that the Master was still within. And the one thing he still seemed to prize, the Fairy in her cage, was set on a hook near his throne, a trinket that was meant to be his alone.

         ‘Kif," said Mira as we lay awake. "You must do something. You are the only one he trusts."

         "I know," I said. There was no denying the change anymore; my Master had turned completely dark. But still I wanted to rescue him. I remembered well his kindness and the years we shared together. I wanted it to return—and it changed only when he got his new powers. "I will do something," I said. "I will bring about an end to this."

         "Be careful," Mira said. "Your Master is very powerful."

         "I know." Mira did not say so, but I heard it in her words. She was not pleading with me to run away or to be safe (we both knew that would not work—that my Master would find us if we did, and then he would think we were plotting against him also).  She was saying I had to act—because only I could. And in my heart I knew I had been weak for too long.

 

 

         I thought hard on what I should do, I dared not confront him directly and the protection spells he cast on himself left me certain he could not be harmed by any physical means, but I knew there was something I could do; something that could bring him back to who he was and restore the kindness that we used to share.

         Otonimor was many things, but he was still human. He slept in his study with his magic to guard him but I knew the ways past his wards—and the Fairy; she never slept. Even as I entered she was still in her cage, singing to herself and dancing in circles.

         "Oooo! It’s Kif, my boy set adrift. Where did you hide? Why so long—"

         "Shhhh," I said with a finger held to my lips. My Master was asleep in his chair and I could not afford for the Fairy to wake him.

         "Humph," said the Fairy with that pouting look returning to her face. "That’s not very nice."

         "I’m sorry," I said. "I brought you something." I held forward my gift. A single plump strawberry, still cool from the lower chambers, and at the sight of it the Fairy’s eyes grew wide.

         "For me?" she chimed and then licked her lips. "Such a prize. It’s divine. Its taste sweeter than wine."

         "I need your help, Rae," I said. "I need another wish."

         "A wish," she said muffled by a small mouthful of her fruit, and then she giggled. "A wish I suppose, I could grant one of those."

         I made my wish—a wish that my Master should forget. That each spell he cast would be swept from his mind as he spoke it, forever lost and never to be cast by him again. It was a sublime way to bring about my aim. If I had wished it all at once he would have known, and in his current demeanor would have turned against me as a plotter. But to lose it over time would be to come back from a distant place, and soon the good man he was would return.

         I went to leave but then I heard that sing-songy voice again. "Kif," it said. "How come you never wish me free?"

         I turned and looked on her, and it was then that I understood. The caging of the Fairy was my Master’s first act of evil. A creature like the Fairy should never have been caged. "Is that what you want?" I asked.

         The Fairy just giggled and covered her lips with a juice-covered hand. "To get out, to be free, is the wish I wish for me."

         "Rae," I said. "I wish you were free."

         "Silly," she said giggling to herself. "I didn’t give you a wish." And with that she started twirling in her cage again, dancing to a tune of her own.

 

 

         My Master’s fears began to unfold not even a week after. Upon the waters of the sea a ship approached with a black sail looming over chopping waves. A sail of that color only meant one thing: a Robe from the Order of the Black Circle was approaching, an inquisitor who was sent out to investigate disturbances whenever a dark mage began to grow. But my Master seemed unafraid; in fact he seemed eager for his approach.

         There was little discussion between the two. At the moment of parley my Master simply floated down from his perch and brought him to battle. I had never seen my Master wield such power, and it was then that I realized fully what he had become: Otonimor was perhaps the greatest Arcane Lord to ever summon the elements. And he did so with vigor.

         The Robe was almost his equal, with gouts of fire and bolts of crackling energy he savaged the land and kept my Master at his paces, but my Master had the advantage. With each spell the Robe cast my Master stole it from his mind and then turned it against him. The Robe did not lose gracefully, and in the end even the outskirts of Sisel were set aflame by their duel. But he did die all the same.

         When my Master—when Otonimor—returned to the tower, smoke rose from hands and red energy burned in his eyes. "Clean it up, Kif,” he ordered. "There will be others."

         That was no lie, others came. The death of a Robe was like a beacon in the lands. Such a passing was always followed by rumors and tales, and those always brought heroes. The first of them came alone but Otonimor could not be defeated by such a solitary challenge. At each contest my Master lit the field and left their carcasses smoking as a reminder to all. Still more came, groups with both wizards and swordsmen, and they tested my Master, but he slew them with ease. He descended further. Using his power he changed the land from a lush expanse of trees and grass to a rocky waste full of briars and jagged rocks.

         "They are coming," he would say in the periods between. "They are coming."

         Weeks passed and Mira’s belly was bigger than ever. She was often short of breath and walked only slowly through the halls. I tried to shelter her from all that my Master had wrought, but there were times when even I had to worry: what would happen to us if my Master did not return to sanity? And perhaps it was already too late.

 

 

         I was unsure of why my Master had summoned me to his study, he had not done so in such a long time, but I went the instant I heard his call.

         My Master was sitting on his throne with his hand to his brow and weariness painted on his face. The Fairy was there beside him, fluttering her wings as she hovered in her cage.

         "Look, it’s Kif—" the Fairy started, but she was not allowed to finish.

         "Be silent," snapped my Master, and at that the Fairy began to pout. She sank to the floor of her cage to sit with her arms folded and her pink wings coming forward to cover her.

         "Master," I said. "You wished to see me."

         My Master did not really seem to acknowledge that I was there but instead appeared lost within himself.

         "I don’t know why you call him Master," said the Fairy. "He’s been a cranky toad for weeks."

         "I said to be silent," my Master bellowed. Then he looked at me and gave a chuckle. "I used to know a spell that would make her quiet, but it seems I don’t know it anymore."

         "Humph," said the Fairy. "Cranky toad, Cranky toad, growing senile, growing old."

         "Do you hear her, Kif?" my Master asked, but the Fairy had already turned away. She stood and started to dance in her cage to a song she sang on her own. "Even the Fairy has stopped fearing me."

         "Master," I said. "People should not have to fear you. Why don’t you come down to dine with Mira and me tonight? Perhaps some wine—"

         "I am losing my mind, Kif," my Master shouted at the top of his lungs. "What do I care for wine? You have not seen it but the spells I knew are fading from me. With each battle it gets harder, and with each test I grow weaker. I am scrambling for something that I can remember to ward or to strike, and often it is only luck that is seeing me prevail. This accursed Fairy is right—my brain is turning against me. It is rotting. I am dying."

         "Master—" I started.

         "Silence, boy," he cut me off. "I can still read the spells from my books, and I can still see my enemies through the mirror. The Circle has not forgotten the Robe I slew. They are gathering to the north in Askara; under the banners of a young prince. They will be coming, and you must be ready. I will need your help before it is done. You must be prepared to act."

         "Wizard plots and Wizard plans, escape his death he never can."

         "Silence, you wicked creature," screamed my Master, and then taking a goblet he hurled it at the cage.

         "Master—" I spoke again.

         "Leave me," he shouted. "I have told you what you must do."

         I knew better than to remain. My Master was just unapproachable. I turned to leave but then the Fairy spoke at me. "Kif," she said in that same sing-songy tone, only this time it grated. "Do come back sometime and play."

 

 

         The army came just as my Master predicted and at the fore was the Prince with three of the Black Circle at his side. My Master seemed not to care. He let them draw near, let them come until they stood at the very precipice of his natural defenses. I stood there with him, watching as the army assembled.

         "The soldiers are nothing," he said. "I will finish them at the onset." Overhead the storm gathered in strength. Lightning struck the ground in thunderous bolts as the army shifted uneasily beneath them—my Master meant what he said.

         "The Prince will be protected," he continued. "One of the Robes will guard him, but he will be the easiest to defeat. The other two will abandon the force when they see that their efforts to shield them are in vain. If they use their protective spells early I will have them."

         As my Master spoke the Prince pushed his steed forward and called out with challenging words. My Master almost laughed, and paid him no heed. "I want you to stay in the tower, Kif," he said. "If even one should make it inside I want you to kill him as he enters."

         "Otonimor!" the Prince shouted.

         "Go now," said my Master. "The battle begins." And with those words my Master’s eyes turned red and his hands glowed with energy. From the sky, lightning came as rapid bolts snaking their way into the line of men and then arcing through the ranks. I saw bodies catch fire and others blown apart. I shrank back. It was a horrific sight. Within my Master’s study I saw the Fairy in her cage. She lay upon its floor, her head buried in her hands and her gentle wings twitching to each clap and bang that reverberated from the chaos outside. I left her. I was afraid.

         The battle raged on and I wanted nothing to do with it, but yet I waited in the main chamber before the entrance with a spell in my mind. I feared for more than just my Master, I feared for Mira as well. If the army prevailed—if they took the tower—I knew they would not spare the two of us, and I would not let that happen. Mira was hidden in the caverns below but if I failed at my duty she would not be safe there.

         The tower shook from the noise of the battle, and during its course a blast hit the outside wall, breaking open the stone on the level above and showering rock down upon me. I heard my Master scream, but the battle did not end. There was thunder still and the crack of lightning and the cries of men dying, and then there was a moment of silence.

         I stood frozen. I waited. I had no idea what the silence could mean, but to answer my fears a thump shook the door of our entrance. Another came, and then the door broke apart. Within its frame stood the Prince. His sword was held low and a soft glow emanated from its blade. He looked on me and I could not move. In an instant he rushed forward with his glowing sword pulled back to strike. I should have acted but my mind would not let me. I prepared for my death, but then I was spared. Flames rushed down from above, my Master hovered in the air, and from his hand my salvation gushed forth in a gout. The Prince was engulfed; his flesh consumed at a stride. He screamed but my Master did not relent, and soon the Prince went silent. His body was reduced to a charred and smoking ruin; twisted, and bent onto its knees with the sword still resting in its hand.

         I let out a breath and felt sick. I looked upon my Master but he was not whole—he too had suffered burns. His face was blistered and the arm on his right side was shriveled by fire.

         "Master—" I said, but he held no patience for me.

         "Let him rot," he shouted. "Let his smoking carcass sit in that spot forever. Let it serve as a reminder to all that Otonimor cannot be killed."

         And then my Master screamed and fell from his floating height to the floor. The red glow in his eyes faded and his body let off smoke like an extinguished flame. I saw him shaking from his exertion, and then he wept. "It is over, Kif," he anguished. "The Robes were too many this time. I could barely counter them. My wounds are mortal. I will die."

         I was not sure what moved me any longer but I went to my Master’s side. "Come Master," I said. "I will help you."

         "No," he ranted. "I can heal myself. I will not die." At that my Master stood and willed himself up the stairs to his study.

 

 

         I did not recall going to sleep. I did not recall coming to my room. It all seemed so out of place—so unreal. Mira was not in the chamber with me, and as I tried to remember our last waking moments they came to me through a haze. Mira was upset, she wanted us to leave, and I—I was agreeing.

         I rose and looked around. Her things were still in the room, but she was gone. I wandered into the main hall and called for her but there was no response. I began to search, but also I began to suspect. I looked in the kitchen and then the south room. I started on my way to the underground but then I realized: the last thing I remembered was seeing Mira in the underground after the battle—and with that a pang of worry shot through me.

         I ran, through the halls from the underground, past the main entrance, and up the stairs. I feared to go into the east study for I knew without wanting what would be within, and the thought of it left me cold. The door was warded but I knew how not to trigger them. I entered and then stood in disbelief. I had failed.

         Mira—my beloved—my Mira, was dead already. She lay upon a table with blood covering the front of her and her abdomen opened up like a crate—and worse, our baby was dead with her.

         "No!" I screamed as tears formed in my eyes. "You monster!"

         My Master was there. Otonimor was sitting in his throne. His burned flesh had been removed; one arm, nothing short of skeletal, held a goblet, and his face, half flayed to show the skull of his right side and the burning red light that filled the socket of his missing eye, looked on me with callous indifference. I fell to my knees in agony. "What have you done?" I cried.

         "What was she, Kif?" Otonimor dared to speak. "Just a common girl." He stood with his skeletal parts fully animated. He was dead, I knew, but yet not fully unliving. "It was necessary, apprentice," he hissed out. "I needed the blood of an innocent so I could live past my injury. I needed the infant. Now it is better. Now I shall live forever."

         "I’ll kill you," I screamed and then I charged forward, but Otonimor was just too powerful. With his skeletal hand held up like a claw he seized me with an unseen force and then choked me before tossing my gasping form from his study.

         I heard his voice hissing still in its wickedness as I lay coughing in the hall. "Fool," it said. "Remember your place!" And then I heard the Fairy, she screeched out my name as the door of the study slammed shut.

         I was not thinking. I let my rage carry me. I cried my way to the entrance hall where the Prince’s body still lingered and his charred hand still held an enchanted sword. In the heat of my fury I ripped it from his grip. Making my way back to the study I thought on what I must do: my Master was strong, well beyond me, but I did not have to live—I just had to finish him. I would have only an instant; my own magic would not be enough, but the sword gave me a chance—I knew how it should be used.

         Opening the study door was the least of my worries. I entered with nothing but hate simmering in my heart. My Master looked on me with disgust, a mocking smile filling what was left of his mouth. He started to speak but I would not hear him. I shot forth my hand and sent an array of flaming darts at his throne. And then I charged.

         "Whelp!" he screamed at me. Then he rose and with a sweep of his hand my darts were sent wide—they were all I would cast, they were stolen from my memory the instant he moved—but his memory was fading too. I knew he used up his lightning in the battle; there was no storm outside his window and why else burn the prince with fire? I cast a ward as I drew closer; one to shield me, and the flaming cone that engulfed my body confirmed what I knew: the Fairy’s magic was still binding him.

         I had more to bear but my ward faded from my mind, there was nothing that could save me from what would come next. I took my one chance. Reeling back the sword I hurled it towards the throne. I saw the weapon as it turned end over end, not at my Master, but off to his side.

         "Fool—" he started to hiss out, but he did not know what I had done, and as the sound of shattering ruby crinkled in the air his face twisted into rage. Flames gushed at me again. I would be consumed.

         "I am free, I am free—"

         I could not wait for Rae to finish. "I wish to be a dragon!" I screamed, and then the flames swept over me.

         I felt them scathe, and my flesh rip away, but then it stopped. I grew tall, and scales formed on my outer layers. I broke the roof with my size and sent stones crashing to the floor around me. I grew a serpent’s tail and talons and wings—and I felt a fiery pitch in my belly. I looked at my Master from a distance above—there was fear in him at last.

         It did not matter what he had left, I meant to take it all. I unleashed on him with a gush of my fiery breath; turning to cinder his throne, his trinkets, his ruby cage—even the body of my beloved—yet he lingered still. His magic kept him safe, but soon it would fade. I slashed forward with tooth and claw, tail and wing, and with each instant I was stuck by magic, but my new body was nearly impervious—I barely felt the wounds he inflicted. He began to panic and his spells grew more desperate, but I was waiting. Waiting for that one spell I knew he had; the one spell that would kill him for sure. I never let up. I snapped at him with my maw and raked with my claws, and then, under a gout of my fire, I left him finally with only one choice. Crying out in the arcane tongue he cast it at last—the spell that had killed Saline, the last female dragon, and its caster along with it. The spell of annihilation.

         Green energy came forth from my Master’s hand and struck me square. My Master was reduced to ash almost at the instant of his strike, but I was too large to be taken so quickly. The pain of it overwhelmed my sense of pain; I could not feel it. As the pieces of my body fell, disintegrating within the tower, I heard something faint. It was the voice of the Fairy. "Foolish man, you can’t cage me. Now you are dead, and I am free."

         And then she giggled, and it was then that I came to realize: all of it—the King, the Queen; the advisors and the villagers; the Robes, the Prince and the Prince’s army; my Master, my love, and I as well—all of it had but one purpose: to bring about an escape—the escape of Rae, the Fairy.

         And so she had, for I could not stop her. I just faded into dust.

 

 

Copyright 2007, P. M. M. Green

Patrick Green lives in Maryland with his wife and two kids. He has been writing fantasy for several years, and has only recently begun to submit his work for publication. Patrick has been a lover of fantasy all his life, and writes almost exclusively in that genre. When not writing, he works in the field of computers for a small IT company. "The Ruby Cage of Fairy Rae" is his first published work.

  

 

Cover: "Abandoned"

Once busy, alive, and new.  But no longer.  The outpost rusts into a forgotten past.

Created in Bryce 6 and Paint Shop Pro

Copyright 2007, L. S. King

A homeschooling mom, and a grandma, L. S. King taught martial arts for years, and also coached gymnastics. She loves Looney Tunes and the color purple, and adores Zorro, which might explain her fascination with swords and capes. When on the planet, she lives with her husband and youngest child in Delaware.

She is one of the "Overlords" of the e-zine Ray Gun Revival found at < www.raygunrevival.com >, which also features her space opera serial Deuces Wild.

Visit her website Loriendil's Dreamland at < www.loriendil.com > to read her published short stories, her blog, or to catch up on back stories of Deuces Wild.

 

Support The Sword Review 

The Sword Review is a publication of Double-Edged Publishing, Inc., a nonprofit corporation designated as a 501(c)(3) public charity. Double-Edged Publishing believes the written word is a powerful tool, capable of shaping ideas and changing lives.

Mail checks to:

Online donations can be made and more information can be found via The Sword Review or the Double-Edged Publishing websites: