The Clockwork Fairy Kingdom (14 page)

“What about your wife?” the doctor asked. “She’s still in
surgery.”

“Will she be awake when she comes out?” Dad asked.

“No, but—”

“We’ll be back long before she’s up,” Dad assured her. “Come
on, Nora. Let’s go fetch your brother.”

“Just a sec,” Nora said, letting go of Dad’s hand. She
picked up her
knotwork
, then stuffed one of the
daisies into her pocket. “Now we can go.”

“Child never goes anywhere without one of her projects,” Dad
told the doctor, rolling his eyes and sounding like Dale. Nora knew he didn’t
mean anything by it. She reminded herself that he was just jealous that he
couldn’t make things like she could.

Outside, more clouds had cleared away and the sun was
starting to peek through. Everything was looking up.

“So are you going to come live with us, now, Dad?” Nora
asked, skipping beside him. “All of us together again?”

“Sure, sure, if that’s what you’d like,” Dad said easily.

“Really? That’s so great! Just wait ’til I tell Dale,” Nora
said. She paused for a moment after Dad opened the passenger side door as a
strong breeze blew her hair into her face. “He said we’d never be a family
again,” Nora added as she sat down.

“We’re going to be a family again,” Dad told her seriously. “Just
as soon as we get Dale.”

“That might be a problem,” Nora finally admitted as they
drove out of the parking lot.

***

Nora cringed again as Dad laughed at her. “Fairies? Machines
that stopped your mother’s heart? Where did you learn to be such a good
storyteller?”

“I’m not,” Nora said angrily. She pulled out the bracelet
she’d been working on. “This. See? It’s magic. Or it will be once I finish it.”

“There’s no such thing as magic,” Dad said firmly.

“Yes, there is,” Nora replied stubbornly as she knotted.
Left. Left. Right.
“Lots of magic, like
art and knitting and family and love.”
Right.
Right. Left.
“This is just
extra
magic.” She burned inside, as she had when she’d braided that grass, so long
ago.

“I have to take you away too, don’t I?” Dad said, looking at
her sadly. “For your own sake.”

“It’s real. It’s real. It’s real,” Nora chanted, willing it
to be so. Her fingers flew, throwing the strings back and forth as she knotted.
She directed her fire there, pushing it with all her might. “There. You’ll see.”
She slipped the bracelet over her wrist, then tied the final knots, all three
of them, defiantly pulling them together with her teeth.

When Nora looked up, the world had shifted.

The sun shone crystalline bright through the clouds. Colored
sheets hung in the air, floating gracefully on strange breezes. She sucked in
her breath. “Can’t you see?” she asked, turning to her dad. He, too, had
changed. His eyes had turned small and mean, while his nose more resembled a
snout. “See what?” he squeaked.

The pit of Nora’s stomach dropped. This selfish pig couldn’t
be her dad. There must be something wrong with the magic. She turned her
bracelet, trying to deny it. The world stayed sharp and new. She saw the truth.
The darkness of the interior of the car made her feel trapped. She needed to
get outside, away from all this, from her false father.

“We’re only going to get your brother,” Dad said. At least
that’s what Nora thought he said. His lips moved funny and not in time with his
words. “I’m going to steal him back, then leave you on the side of the road.
You’re too damaged.” Then he laughed, as if he’d told a great joke.

“No,” Nora said. “I won’t go with you. And neither will
Dale.”

“What are you going to do about it, little girl?” Dad
sneered. “How are you going to stop me?”

Movement in the back seat caught Nora’s eye. As she stared,
the spot wavered, then solidified, growing firm and real.

A fairy sat behind Nora. She had a big, bony ridge covering
her nose, sharp teeth, and a yellow, baleful glare. Nora’s eyes grew big as the
fairy spread out her clockwork wings, taking up the entire backseat. As
frightening as the fairy was, even Nora could see the grace in her, understand why
Dale had followed the queen.

With a satisfied sigh, Nora turned back forward, though she
held the gaze of the fairy in the mirror. “I want to leave the car,” she stated
plainly.

“No.”

“Then it isn’t me you have to worry about,” Nora said,
bracing herself.

Dad snorted. “Who do I have to worry about?”

“Me,” Queen Adele said.

***

Robert rode uncomfortably in the back of Larry and Mike’s—the
bouncers’—car. They’d confiscated Robert’s phone and now drove toward the
dot that represented, to them, Robert’s money. Fast food wrappers littered the
floor of the backseat and the car smelled like rancid grease. Larry and Mike
had made it evident to Robert that he couldn’t leave. Robert didn’t care about
the money, or what happened to Chris at this point—he just needed to
survive.

Larry called out directions while Mike drove. “Turn right.
Here.
”

Mike made an abrupt left turn, cutting off traffic from the
opposing lane, causing them to brake and honk.

“No, you idiot, your other right,” Larry said, hitting Mike’s
arm.

“Hell,” Mike said, looking for a place to turn around.

Robert shook his head and bit his lip so he wouldn’t start
calling Mike “Moe” and asking where Curly was.

“Hey, it’s stopped,” Larry said. He held up Robert’s phone,
so he could see. “Why’d it stop?”

“Chris has probably stopped driving.”

Larry looked again at the map. “That’s the hospital.”

Robert remembered Denise saying something about an operation
she couldn’t afford. “We should wait until he leaves the hospital,” Robert told
them.

“Oh yeah?” Larry asked.

“Oh yeah?” Mike sneered.

“Too many cops,” Robert explained.

“Oh,” Mike said.

“So we should wait?” Larry asked.

“Yes, we should wait,” Robert said. “Why don’t we park next
to the hospital parking lot, so we can follow Chris when he leaves?” Robert
assumed he wouldn’t have to explain what it meant to follow someone in a car,
though he was certain these two wouldn’t know how to do it subtly or well.

If Robert had had access to a gun, he might have shot
himself once they’d parked and Larry and Mike started debating about an old PC
baseball game, and whether modern equipment, when used by some of the old-timers,
would have made a difference. It was trivia he couldn’t understand—how
did it help him bet today?

Fortunately, before Robert had reached the screaming stage,
he recognized Chris’ car as it pulled out of the lot. “I don’t think it’s a
good idea to get too close,” he warned as Mike pulled out right behind him. “He
has someone else in the car with him.” Robert thought it was the daughter,
Nora, based on the dark hair.

Larry shrugged. “Might be his kid, right? Might be good
leverage.”

Robert shook his head. Kids made
bad
leverage. Parents did crazy things when their kids were
involved. However, there was nothing he could say. These two would never
listen.

When a dark shape appeared in the backseat of Chris’ car,
Larry asked, “What the hell is that?”

Chris’ car abruptly swerved into the oncoming traffic. Mike
swore, but couldn’t stop in time, bashing into the side rear of Chris’ car hard
enough that the front seat air bags exploded, knocking both Larry and Mike
unconscious. Only Robert had been wearing his seatbelt.

Once the car stopped moving, Robert looked around, unsure
what to do. If he left, would they find him? Could he send the money he owed
later, or would they hunt him down?

The dark figure in the car ahead of them turned and grinned
at him—a mere skull floating on top of a shadowy body.

Robert took it as a sign.
Leave. Now.
He kicked open the car door and rose to his shaking
feet, gulping the clean air.

Bystanders asked Robert if he was all right. He shook them
off and started walking. He didn’t slow down when they called after him, and
didn’t look back. He kept going, straight back to his hotel, grateful that no
one had tried to stop him.

The face of the shadowy figure haunted Robert as he walked—the
jagged teeth, the crazed golden eyes. Though the sun had broken through the
clouds, Robert still felt numb and cold. He couldn’t shake the feeling he’d
just avoided something nastier than any loan shark.

When Robert got back to his room, he started packing.
Leave. Now.
He had to get out of there
before that thing came after him.

As Robert zipped up his suitcase, he remembered the girl,
Nora. He didn’t care what had happened to Chris or the bouncers—they
deserved what they got from that thing. Nora, though. She and Denise and Dale.
They all deserved better.

Robert didn’t want to go back. He’d left his conscience
behind long ago, or so he told himself. It wasn’t his business. Yet, he was the
one who had brought Chris here, who had started the tide of events. Chris had
lied to Robert as well and never paid him. In addition to making sure the girl
was all right, Robert still wanted his revenge.

With a sigh, Robert opened up his suitcase and pulled out
different clothes, as well as a hat. He changed his regular glasses for wire
rims. No one would remember him from the crash with just a few changes. People
weren’t that observant. He hoped that thing wouldn’t remember him, either, if
it was still there.

Adele watched Nora follow a man out of the building and to
the lot holding the vehicles, as
bespelled
by him as
Dale was by her. The man didn’t care for the Maker. His intention to use her
was written clearly across his face. The girl didn’t see it, however.

Fortunately for Adele, the car they chose was mostly plastic;
just the engine contained metal. No iron held together the carriage. While the
man held open the door for the Maker, Adele darted in, blowing past them like
an invisible wind. She flew into the back of the vehicle, as far away from the
engine as she could get.

The blazing electronics of the car, when it turned on, made
Adele shudder. She’d entered the vehicle on a whim, curious about the Maker and
the man who would use her. She already regretted her decision.

They raced away, faster than Adele could fly. The speed of
the passing scenery made her nauseated. She stopped herself from being sick
through sheer will. Rolling from one side of the seat to the other, she pushed
her hands against the cool glass to test the strength of it, how much force she’d
have to use to break it and escape.

Adele’s nerves calmed when the Maker finished her spell and
put on her talisman. Cool magic flowed from her, acting as a buffer between
Adele and the maddening electronics. Adele didn’t care if the Maker could see
her—truly see her, without her
glamours
and
illusions—as long as she had a respite from the incessant noise.

The girl stared at Adele with frightened eyes at first. Then
she grew confident. She announced her intent clearly, keeping her gaze steady
on Adele. When the man refused, she nodded.

Adele nearly cackled. The Maker would owe her something for
this. She loosened her illusions, growing visible, showing the dark side of her
nature.

The driver couldn’t control himself or his fear. He swerved
into traffic, causing an accident. The jolt threw Adele against the seat, then
to the side when a second car hit them. She shook her head, looking out the
back window, trying to overcome the disorientation. It took her a moment to
realize that the Maker had left the car, sprinting away before it had even come
to a full stop.

Adele reached forward and touched the shoulder of the
semi-conscious man. “Remember me in your dreams,” she said sweetly before she
flew out the open door. The magic wouldn’t last long—not even a
week—but he wouldn’t sleep without the aid of strong drink the entire
time. Then she raced away after the girl. “Maker,” she called when she finally
reached her marching angrily across an expanse of grass.

The girl stopped and turned. “What do you want?”

“It is customary to thank the one who just helped you
escape,” Adele chided her.

“Thank you. Now what do you want?”

“You owe me a favor, Maker,” Adele told her as she dropped
lightly to the ground. She hoped the girl was as ignorant as her brother, and
wouldn’t question what she asked for.

“Okay.”

“I need your word that you won’t harm my kingdom.”

The Maker scoffed. “You haven’t earned that much from me. No
one has.” She paused, considering. “How about just for today? Show me your
kingdom, and why it deserves saving.”

“Done,” Adele said. “Give me your name.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed. “There’s power in names,” she
said, scowling. Then she blinked. “You have my brother’s name, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Adele said, pleased that the human recognized her
influence over the Tinker. “You could give me yours in exchange,” she offered.

The Maker looked thoughtful at that. Adele hid her smile.
The girl knew a little, not a lot. Adele couldn’t unlearn the boy’s name. “Come.”

“Not yet. You need to promise me that you won’t hurt me
while I’m in your kingdom, and that I can leave when I want.”

“I just promised to escort you through my kingdom!” Adele
said, horrified. “No one would dare harm you while you’re under my wing.”

“I must be back by sunset,” the Maker insisted as she started
walking again. “My mom…”

Adele waited, curious.

“My mom’s sick,” the girl said quietly. “That’s why I was at
the hospital.”

Adele nodded, wondering how she could use that, if the
promise of her mother’s health would tempt the Maker into giving up her
brother. Adele had pledged only not to harm the Maker that day. She hadn’t said
anything about making her life easier.

***

Nora didn’t trust the queen. However, she had no choice.
They walked together to the edge of the park, then up the sidewalk. Nora
marveled at the surreal quality of walking up the street with a fairy queen
bouncing beside her, sometimes walking, sometimes flying, sometimes moving in a
combination of the two. The sun had burned the clouds away, making the sheets
moving through the air more pale, looking like transparent doorways. Nora didn’t
have time to step through one, though she wanted to.

Only a few things changed their appearance to Nora: cars
appeared darker, trees appeared lighter, and more than one path marked the
sidewalk.

The queen, also, could no longer hide her true nature. She
looked like the fighters Nora had seen that first day. Nora finally had to ask,
“Are you a warrior?” She hoped it wasn’t an impolite question, but she didn’t
know fairy etiquette.

Queen Adele preened. “Yes. I am from the warrior caste.
Generally, kings and queens come from the royals. However, when King
Obed
died, his son, my husband Thaddeus, became king.”

“And you became queen?” Nora asked, directing them toward
the main highway that led to her house. The sidewalk grew old and cracked and
Nora had to pay more attention so she didn’t trip and fall.

“I became queen when I married him,” Queen Adele said. A semi-truck
blew past them. Queen Adele pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I
despise those things.”

Nora pushed the hair out of her face. “Same here.”

“There was initially some resistance to my becoming queen,”
Adele admitted as they started walking again.

“What happened?”

“They died,” Adele said in a matter-of-fact tone as she
brushed a speck of dust from her long skirt.

Chills ran down Nora’s spine in spite of the bright sunshine
beating down on them.

“Normally, warriors don’t kill royals. It upsets the
balance, the proper order of things. However, those two upset
my
balance, my plans.”

Nora watched, fascinated, as Adele flexed her wings. The queen
wasn’t conscious of the movement—it was more like a nervous twitch. She
looked more threatening with her wings spread: jagged teeth; bony, broken nose;
and mad, whirling eyes.

“The royals have been quite pleased with my rule ever since,”
Queen Adele continued, her wings folding against her back, her eyes calming. “I
have maintained life and order.”

Nora nodded. Order was important to Dale as well. Breaking
him free seemed more impossible. “Are you American?” Nora asked. “From your
accent—”

The queen laughed merrily. “We are not natives to this
place, no. We came to the New World a long time ago. I think your year was
1881.”

Nora gulped. More than a century old. She looked at the queen.
Her skin was smooth, and she moved easily, not as if she were ancient.

“We don’t show our age, my dear,” the queen said with a sly
smile. “Fairies are almost impossible to kill.”

“I see,” Nora said. Unfortunately, she knew the queen told
the truth. “What about—”

“Nora!” A man called from an approaching vehicle. Mr.
Patterson, in his old, red pickup truck, crossed traffic and pulled up next to
the sidewalk so he could talk with Nora out the driver-side window.

Nora glanced at where the fairy had been, but she’d
vanished.

“Mr. Patterson. Hi,” Nora said, walking over to his truck.

“I heard about your mom. I was on my way to the hospital,”
he said, examining Nora’s face. “Is she okay? Are you?”

“She’s still in surgery,” Nora said guiltily. “But my dad
came, and, well, never mind.”

“Were you walking back to your house?” Mr. Patterson asked
gently.

Nora nodded. The kindness in his voice put a lump in her
throat.

“Where’s your brother?”

“I need to go get him.”

“I’ll give you a ride, and then I’ll take both of you back
to the hospital.”

“It’s okay. Really—”

“No. I insist.”

Nora looked over her shoulder. The fairy was nowhere in
sight. “Thank you,” she said, acquiescing. She walked around the truck, letting
herself in the passenger door. It closed with a solid
thunk
. Nora realized the truck
was not only old, but solid metal, the kind fairies couldn’t stand.

“How bad is it?” Mr. Patterson asked as he pulled back into
traffic.

“They think the battery of her pacemaker went out.”

“Your mom has a pacemaker?”

Mr. Patterson didn’t swear, but the way he tightened his jaw
made Nora think he wanted to. “Since she was a teenager. Congenital heart
defect.”

“I wish I’d known. I never would have rented her that place.
I would have insisted she live closer to town,” Mr. Patterson said. “Nora, I’m
sorry. It’s my fault your mom’s sick.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Nora said. She glanced at Mr.
Patterson. Sunlight shone through the front window, striking his hands as they
gripped the steering wheel. The flesh turned pale and translucent.

“Nora, are you all right?” Mr. Patterson asked, sounding
worried.

Nora looked from Mr. Patterson’s hands to his face. The
world wavered for a moment, as if it had just been submerged under water,
before it snapped back into place. Mr. Patterson’s face and hands looked normal
again. “It’s just been a lot, you know?” Nora lied, turning and looking out the
passenger-side window.

Nora didn’t know what had just happened. Maybe it had been
some strange trick of the light, or maybe Queen Adele was nearby and had cast
some magic.

However, it could also be that Mr. Patterson was something
other than he seemed. Nora couldn’t trust him, couldn’t tell him about Dale or
ask for his help, even though he knew about fairies. And maybe the reason he
knew so much was because he wasn’t as he seemed.

Mom was in the hospital. Dad was somewhere—loose and
dangerous, looking to kidnap Dale and break Nora’s family further apart. Dale was
enslaved to the fairy queen. Nora had no friends to call on, no one who could
help.

It just made Nora more determined to get them all to safety.

***

Robert drove slowly back to the scene of the accident, along
the main highway. Trucks lumbered past him and the wind rocked his car. Only
businesses lined the road, no trees, grass, or houses. Robert ogled everyone
walking the opposite way along the cracked and broken sidewalk. It was the main
route back to the house. If Nora had gotten away, she’d go this way.

An old, beat-up red truck in front of Robert slowed down at
the same time Robert saw Nora. The truck crossed traffic to pull up next to the
girl. Robert drove past them, then pulled off onto the side of the road
himself. He watched them through his rearview mirror. When Nora got into the
truck, he breathed a relieved sigh. The girl was safe.

But for how long? Chris still wanted her brother.

Robert didn’t want to go to the police with what he had. It
wasn’t enough, not on its own, to convict Chris. Not unless Denise had applied
for a divorce as well as the restraining order. Still, Robert had to do
something.

Robert approached the accident obliquely, parking his car in
the hospital lot and then walking the two blocks to the accident site. All
three cars now littered the side of the road. Broken glass and shattered
plastic still spilled across the ground. Police directed cars past, one at a
time. Chris, the bouncers, and the other driver were no longer there.

Putting on Chris’ slight southern drawl again, Robert
approached an older woman with tight white curls, wearing a quilted vest over a
plain T-shirt and mom jeans. “Golly, that looks bad,” he said.

The woman sized Robert up in a glance, then looked away,
stepping to the side. The younger man next to her, dressed in a bright blue
shirt with a white sweatshirt tied artfully around his neck, pale blue jeans,
and white boating shoes, told him, “Oh, don’t you worry. They were all walking
when the police took them away.”

Robert felt flattered by the obvious flirtatious tone from
the cute guy. “Did you see what happened?” he asked shyly, playing demure.

“No, but I heard it way over there.” The man waved in the
direction of the park. “You should have heard the one guy cussing. I think I
learned some new vocabulary.”

Now the woman chimed in. “The two in the beat-up sedan, I
think they were wanted for something. Police didn’t even want to hear their
story. Just put the cuffs on them.”

“The tall one—I think he would have walked. But
cussing like that at the cops is just stupid,” the guy added.

Robert sighed and shook his head. “He’s just not very bright
sometimes.”

“Do you know him?” They both pulled closer to him.

“Afraid so,” Robert admitted. “Can you tell me which police
officer is in charge?”

“Officer Palace,” the woman said, pointing out a classically
handsome officer. He had a square jaw and blue eyes that matched his uniform.

“Thank you very much,” Robert said, slipping forward. He
watched the officer joke with his fellow policemen, laughing with a booming
voice. “Officer Palace!”

Palace looked up. “Let’s see what my adoring public wants,”
he told the officer standing next to him before coming over. “How can I help
you?”

“Did you take the man driving the black sedan into custody?”

“Maybe. Why?” Palace maintained his jovial tone, but a hard
edge lay just underneath.