Читать книгу Darkling Green - Kim Thompson - Страница 10

The course of true love never did run smooth

“I didn’t know Mab was married!” Willa exclaimed. “She never mentioned him before!”

Belle made a face. “Can’t say as I blame her for not talking about that bubblehead.”

They were sitting on the front porch. Tengu sat on the steps, his head in his hands as he watched the snow disappear. The sun beat down, and streams of water sparkled in the street. Willa took off her coat. “Where has he been?”

Belle let out a sudden laugh. “He’s been everywhere … looking for her!”

“She ran away?”

“She decided to live elsewhere and left no forwarding address.”

Willa gave Belle a sidelong glance before continuing. “I’m guessing they had a fight.” An easy assumption to make, judging by Mab’s reaction, and the fact that she refused to come out of her wasp nest to talk to him, no matter how lovey-dovey he acted. “He’s still trying to talk her into coming out. Do you know why she’s mad at him?”

“Who knows. They’ve been married for six hundred years, about five hundred of which they’ve spent bickering over one thing or another. I heard the latest argument was over a changeling….” Belle suddenly turned to Tengu. “Oh, stop your whimpering! It’s driving me batty!”

“Beautiful snow! Gone! Gone forever!” he groaned.

“Tengu! It’ll come back next winter! It always does!” Willa pointed out.

Tengu shook his head gloomily, and with one last heart-wrenching sigh, he shuffled into the house. Just then a group of fairies flew around the corner, chattering excitedly to each other.

“That hair! Did you see his hair?”

“And those eyes!”

“Gorgeous!”

“I know, right?”

Belle snorted, and the fairies finally noticed them there. They floated back the way they came, disappearing around the corner in a tinkle of laughter.

Belle rolled her eyes. “Fairies are idiots.”

As Willa rolled Belle’s chair inside, she was startled by a whoosh of wings in her face. Roshni was flapping awkwardly around the hall, landing finally on the chandelier, which swung crazily under her weight.

“Roshni! What’s wrong?”

Horace came out of the parlour, stepping around Miss Trang. “There is some concern about the welfare of the rabbits with Roshni around. Apparently there was an incident?” He raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Oh,” answered Willa, remembering. “About a week ago Roshni kind of … picked one of them up. But she dropped him, and he was okay! It was an honest mistake. She thought he was just a regular bunny.”

Horace hushed her, glancing nervously over his shoulder. “One does not call the Royal Guard of the King of the Fairies bunnies!”

“Rubbish!” Belle grumbled. “Bunnies are bunnies.”

“Now, Belle,” sighed Willa. “We should treat our guests with respect.” She turned back to Horace. “Roshni won’t go after them again, I promise.”

On the chandelier, Roshni bobbed her head in agreement.

“You don’t need to convince me — you need to convince them.” Horace gestured back over his shoulder.

The parlour was crowded and noisy. Dwarves milled about, and fairies filled the air. Baz was wedged in with six rabbits on the sofa and did not look pleased. Robert sat in a corner throwing in his two cents every once in a while, and Tengu had his fingers in his ears.

“Oberon’s crowd have lost no time in insulting the dwarves,” reported Robert. “We’re in for a donnybrook!”

Willa grimaced. The centuries-old animosity between fairies and dwarves had been extremely difficult to overcome, and she didn’t want that feud to start up again. The dwarves glowered, the fairies tittered nervously, and everyone was talking at once.

Willa found a spot to park Belle and then made her way to the fireplace, trying not to step on anybody. The mantle was lined with fairies, the visiting fairies mingling with their own fairies, and all of them flirting and giggling.

Oberon floated beside the hanging wasp nest, speaking to Mab inside.

“Let me in, dearest doll,” he crooned, smoothing his locks. “I yearn tragically for your love, my creampuff.”

Mab responded with something unrepeatable.

Over Willa’s head there was a sudden rush of air as Roshni swooped into the room. Shrieks went up from the visiting fairies.

“Savage monster! You shall taste my blade!” Oberon bellowed, drawing his sword from its jewelled sheath.

Roshni landed on Willa’s head, and she staggered under the weight. “She’s not a savage monster!” she protested, but Oberon charged at the bird, swinging his sword. There were screams, and fainting fairies littered the mantle. Willa threw up her hands to protect her face from the sword thrusts, as Oberon seemed more concerned with putting on a good show than aiming carefully. The rabbits hopped off the sofa and circled them. Roshni launched from Willa’s head, sending her stumbling into rabbits, who in turn stumbled into dwarves. There was a lot of shouting.

Roshni flapped out into the hall. As Willa struggled to regain her balance, she saw Mab peeking out at the mayhem. Oberon flew after Roshni, but just then a crocheted pillow sailed through the air, taking him out completely. Cushion and fairy king crashed into the wall and dropped out of sight behind the sofa.

“Bravo!” cheered Robert, and Tengu took a bow.

The fairies who hadn’t fainted before fainted now, and the rabbits drew their swords.

“Wait! Hold on!” yelped Willa, but she was cut off by a roar and a burst of flames overhead. Everyone fell into a shocked silence.

A large, scowling figure leaned in the doorway, smoke still curling from her nostrils.

“Can you keep it down?” snapped Miss Trang. “I’m trying to sleep here!”

Willa started to fill her in on recent events, but Miss Trang was not interested in anything other than going back to sleep and shuffled wearily into her room, slamming the door behind her.

Everyone seemed to regain their senses after this. The rabbits put away their weapons and the parlour was tidied up. Oberon was rescued from behind the sofa. He was sneezing from the dust and trying to ignore Mab’s laughter. Willa attempted to convince him that Roshni was not a threat to anyone, but Oberon was so peeved and the rabbits looked so stern that she finally agreed the bird would be kept far away from the visitors. She dug out the birdcage, but Roshni wouldn’t go near it. After further consultation, Fjalarr suggested putting Roshni in the attic.

“The attic?” asked Willa, confused. “You mean the second floor?”

“No, we’ll whip up an attic right away, before we do the second and third floors.”

That one left Willa scratching her head, but a couple of days later Fjalarr delivered on his promise. Willa and Roshni joined him up on top of the finished first floor, where they found a rope tied to a crossbeam with the other end extending up into a small white cloud. Fjalarr pulled the rope, and down from the cloud descended the attic: a small square room with a window in each of its four sides, floating in the air like a balloon.

Willa gasped in astonishment.

“The wind pushes it around a little, but it’s perfectly safe,” explained Fjalarr as he drew the room down to them. Willa opened the door and set Roshni inside before climbing in herself.

The attic was empty save for a fixed wooden perch in the centre of the room. Roshni hopped onto it and looked around approvingly. The windows provided a breathtaking view of the town and the ocean beyond.

“It’s absolutely amazing,” exclaimed Willa, jumping back down to join the dwarf and nervously scanning the street. “But we’d better keep it out of sight.”

Fjalarr let go of the rope, and the attic bobbed up again, disappearing into the cloud.

“That’s why we made the cloud.” He gazed up at it in admiration. “Especially puffy, that is. Fine craftsmanship.”

“Oh yes, it’s really lovely,” admitted Willa, though deep down she thought it still looked pretty suspicious floating there all by itself.