Read A Fairy's Guide to Disaster Online

Authors: A W Hartoin

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mythology & Folk Tales, #Teen & Young Adult, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Fairy Tales & Folklore, #Country & Ethnic, #Fairy Tales, #Sword & Sorcery

A Fairy's Guide to Disaster (5 page)

BOOK: A Fairy's Guide to Disaster
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“Just so you know,” said Gerald.

“I know exactly what you are, Gerald.”

Gerald’s eyebrows knotted together and he threw me a suspicious look. Then the truck turned and we all stumbled to the right. Gerald and Iris ran to the window, crowding together in their excitement. Their wings spread wide, the colors complimenting each other. They looked quite beautiful together.

“What is it?” I asked.

“We’re in town,” said Iris.

“Downtown,” corrected Gerald.

Iris lurched into him and jolted him away from the window. “How would you know, smarty-pants?”

“I know lots of things you don’t know, stupid.”

“Name one,” said Iris.

Gerald stepped back from her and glanced back and forth between us. He clamped his lips together so tight they turned white and trembled.

Iris crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him. “Go ahead, Genius. Name one. One thing. Come on, name it.”

Gerald fairly vibrated from the force of holding back whatever he knew. He was famous for blurting out facts that nobody cared about. But I thought this fact might be one we would care about. We might care about it very much.

“What is it, Gerald?” I asked softly.

He turned away. “Nothing,” he said.

I shifted Ezekiel to my other hip and he nuzzled into my shoulder. The warmth of his small body soothed me, and was a reminder that Gerald, despite all his obnoxiousness, wasn’t so very old either. He was just a little fairy, really, and I was supposed to be taking care of him, like Ezekiel, no matter what.

I walked over to him, balancing carefully in the shifting mantel, and touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry about all this, Gerald.”

He raised his eyes to me, angry and defiant. “I just want to go home,” he said.

“I know. Maybe I should’ve let you go when you had the chance. I was trying to do what babysitters are supposed to do. You’re the genius. You understand that, right?”

Gerald shrugged. “Whatever. I’m hungry.”

I looked up at the door in the ceiling. Getting food wasn’t going to be easy, but I’d have to figure it out. The truck turned again and skidded to a halt. I fell onto the remains of the bed, narrowly avoiding squashing little Ezekiel. Iris and Gerald made their way back to the window and listened.

“Well?” I asked.

“We stopped,” said Gerald.

“I know that, Gerald,” I said, rolling my eyes at him.

“Maybe if you want to know, you should listen.” Gerald sneered at me.

“Stop it, Gerald,” said Iris. “I can’t hear everything either.”

“I can hear just as well as you and I even understand what they’re saying.”

“Shut up, Gerald,” Iris and I said together.

Gerald stomped across the room, muttering about his superiority and being unappreciated as Iris leaned out the window to hear better. Then she turned back to us, her eyes large and full of wonder.

“We’re being sold,” she said.

“They can’t sell us,” said Gerald. “We’re… we’re Whipplethorns.”

Iris stomped her foot at him. “You mean we’re Whipplethorns. You’re just an Ogle.”

Gerald bowed up. “We’re Whipplethorns, too.”

“Not really,” said Iris. “You changed your surname, but you’re really still Ogles.”

I stepped in between them. “Stop it, you two. That’s not important. And they’re not selling us. They don’t even know we’re here. They’re selling the mantel. Who are they selling it to?” I asked as Ezekiel nuzzled my cheek.

“An antique dealer,” Iris replied.

“A what?”

Iris shrugged and turned back to the window. After a moment, she said, “They’re coming to get us. Hold on.”

There was nothing for us to hang on to but each other. Gerald looked around, his wings opening and closing. I pulled Gerald to me and then Iris. I wrapped my arms around the three of them and held on as tight as I could.

“What should we do?” Iris asked as something snapped above us.

“I don’t know yet,” I said.

Gerald grinned up at me. Little spots of pink appeared on his cheeks and he glowed with malicious joy.

“Shut up, Gerald,” said Iris.

He pulled back from us. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were going to.”

“I was not. I…”

The mantel lurched and threw us into a corner. I braced my feet against the floor and clung to Iris and Gerald. Iris screeched as the bed slid past and knick knacks started flying. Then the mantel settled into a walking rhythm and we relaxed. Things shifted back and forth, but, at least, nothing was flying around and whacking us in the head.

Just when I let go of the deep breath I was holding and started to feel this comforting rhythm might go on awhile, it stopped. The mantel shot violently upright to its normal position. It happened so fast, we didn’t have time to scream. We bounced off the wall and landed in a heap on the floor. The mantel was tilted slightly so everything, including us, slid a little towards the back wall and then settled quietly.

“I think it’s over,” I said.

Iris propped herself up into a seated position. “Maybe.”

“What do you mean, maybe?” I asked as I tried to pry Gerald off me. He clung to my waist and was so glassy-eyed, I wasn’t sure he knew what he was doing.

“We’re not alone,” said Iris.

My mind started racing. Mom and Dad didn’t like to tell us stories about species they thought we’d never encounter in isolated Whipplethorn. Mom didn’t want to scare us, but I’d picked up a few stories at school and I figured I could handle about anything, except mindbenders because there was no way to fight them. They could read your mind and manipulate you. Trolls weren’t good either. I’d have been pretty worried about kindlers, if I wasn’t one. The gory tales about us were rampant at recess along with stories of humans, which were the most likely scenario.

“You mean there are humans here,” I said.

Iris wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees. “Not just humans.”

CHAPTER 4

“NOT just humans.”Iris leaned out the window, balancing on her stomach and exposing her dimpled thighs. She teetered as though she might tumble out at any second and glanced back over her shoulder at me with a grin.

“Give me a second,” I said as I adjusted Ezekiel’s diaper pin.

“You have to come see,” she said.

“It is pretty cool,” said Gerald. “Let’s go out.”

I jerked my head up. “Nobody’s going out.”

“Oh, yeah?” Gerald shouted. “Try and stop me.”

Gerald pushed Iris aside and started worming his way through the narrow window opening.

“Grab him, Iris,” I said as I laid Ezekiel on a quilt.

Iris tugged on Gerald’s ankles. He was halfway out the window and cussing up a storm.

“Stop it, Gerald,” Iris said. “They’re out there.”

“Who’s out there? You don’t even know. Let go,” said Gerald.

“They’re there,” said Iris. “I don’t know what species exactly. It could be Kindlers or those weird Bogles.”

“Bogles just hurt murderers,” yelled Gerald over his shoulder.

I grabbed his leg and tugged. “You’re going to have to tell us more than that, Iris. What’s out there?”

“I don’t know. Bad things.”

Then my stomach got a swirly, queasy feeling. It reminded me very much of the stomach flu I’d had last winter. Then a loud voice came from behind me.

“I believe she may be referring to me. Although I don’t appreciate being called a thing.”

I started and turned around to see an odd little creature standing in the doorway. He was the same height as Gerald with a bald head, greenish-brown knobby skin and oversized hands and feet. He wore a brown suit that looked like it was made out of a greasy paper bag and he smelled like a dead frog.

Iris and I stood frozen, our hands still on Gerald’s legs. My mind was blank. If someone had asked me my name, I wouldn’t have known the answer.

“Hello?” the creature said while wiggling its fingers at us. It started walking with an odd hopping stride around the room, eyeing things and occasionally stopping to sniff them. He came close enough to make me gag. My eyes watered and my nose began to run.

“How did you get in here?” I managed to choke out.

“Through the door, naturally,” the creature replied.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” said Iris. She let go of Gerald’s leg to cover her nose.

The creature moved over to Iris. She backed up against the wall, her face puckered up like she’d just sucked a lemon. It stuck its head close to her face and its tongue came slithering out like a snake’s would. “Too old,” it said. “What a shame. What a pity.”

Gerald twisted around in the window. “What is it? What’s going on?”

The creature lowered its tongue to Gerald’s bare calf, almost touching it. It jerked its head back. “Sour.”

I let go of Gerald’s other leg and pushed the creature away. He was much softer than he looked, a sort of wet sponge texture.

“Get away,” I said.

“Is that any way to speak to your new neighbor? Your new friend?” it asked.

“You’re no friend of ours. Get out. Go away.”

The creature clicked its tongue at me in a very disapproving way as Gerald wiggled back through the window. He straightened his shirt and looked to me. “What’s going on?” asked Gerald. “I heard somebody.”

I pointed at the creature and Gerald turned around. As soon as he laid eyes on the creature he fell into a dead faint and hit the floor with a soft thump.

Iris shook her head. “Not a Whipplethorn.”

“What is this Whipplethorn?” the creature asked.

I grabbed the creature’s sleeve. “We’re Whipplethorns and this is our house.” I pushed it to the window. “Get out.”

“Is that the kind of fairy you are? Whipplethorn? I thought you were wood fairies. You look it.” The creature stood its ground and wouldn’t let me shove him out the window.

“We are wood fairies. Whipplethorn is our last name. Now get out.”

It hopped away from me and placed a large finger on its chin. “And he’s not a Whipplethorn. Does that mean you don’t want him? I could take him off your hands. For a price, of course.”

Gerald stirred on the floor, saw the creature, and fainted again.

“Not very sturdy, is he? I’m afraid that will cost you. What have you got to trade?”

“Nothing.” I advanced on the creature and tried to push him out the door. For being so small, he was surprisingly strong. “We’re not selling Gerald.”

“Oh no, my dear sweet girl. Not sell.” Its voice lowered. “Get rid of.”

“Well, we’re not doing that either. What are you, anyway?”

“I am a spriggan. A proud race of, um how shall we say, fixers.”

Iris came at him, her face screwed up with distaste, and starting pushing with me. “We don’t need any fixing. Go away.”

The creature backed out the door into the hall. “You’ll be sorry. This trade could’ve spared you much trouble.”

We backed it down the hall to the side door, which hung open. We pushed the creature to the threshold.

“Is this how you treat your neighbors?”

“We’re not staying,” I said.

The creature winked at me. “That’s what they all say. Good day.”

“Same to you.” I booted it off the threshold and it landed with a wet splat on well-worn linoleum.

We stood in the doorway watching as it disappeared between two ancient trunks piled on the floor next to the mantel. In fact, things were piled everywhere around the mantel. I’d never seen so much stuff. There were rocking chairs, picture frames, disintegrating clothing, crockery, beds, and anything else I could’ve imagined.

“I heard the humans call it an antique mall.” Iris grinned. “Kind of cool, isn’t it?”

“I guess.”

All I could think about was our parents. How was I going to get us home when we were in such a huge mess?

“What’s a spriggan?” asked Iris.

“We can look it up in Dad’s book.” I glanced around the messy hall. “When we find it.”

“Check it out, Matilda,” said Iris, pointing out the door at shelves piled high with dozens of books.

“Wow.” I began counting the books, but swiftly lost count after forty. “That’s a lot of books.”

“They’re all dusty and just piled up. Don’t the humans care about them?” asked Iris.

“I guess books aren’t rare in the human world.”

“It would be so cool to read some.” Iris looked like she was ready to take off.

“It would be, but we’ve got bigger things to worry about.” I hooked my arm through Iris’s and we walked down the hall back to the bedroom. Ezekiel sat on the floor. His fine brows were drawn together and his mouth formed a worried pout.

“What’s wrong, baby boy?” asked Iris.

Ezekiel raised his chubby arm and pointed at the window. It was empty and Gerald was nowhere to be seen.

“Oh, no,” I said. “That’s just what we need.”

“What?” asked Iris. “Where’s Gerald?”

Ezekiel shook his finger at the window and chirped. I went to the window, feeling beat up and tired. The antique mall appeared more cluttered than ever as I tried to spot Gerald amongst the mess. I looked for some tiny movement, for a flutter of wings or a glimpse of his resentful face, but there was nothing.

Iris grabbed my arm and tugged it hard. “He’s gone. What do we do?”

My head jerked back and forth as Iris yanked on my arm. Gerald was gone. I’d lost Gerald. And worse, I’d have to go find him. I’d have to go out. There were bound to be more spriggans and probably worse.

“What do we do? What do we do?” Iris kept chanting.

I finally pulled away from Iris’s hand, went to the window and leaned out. My eyes roamed past glass cases filled with knickknacks, past kitchen chairs, and wardrobes, all with price tags dangling. A well of sadness rose up around my heart. All those things crammed into the space were things that someone had once cared about, probably cared about very much, and now they were to be sold to whoever was willing to pay. And Gerald was out there, by himself with very little common sense to guide him. How could I find a boy who didn’t want to be found in a place so immense and confusing it would take days just to figure it out? What if I couldn’t find Gerald before the spriggan did?

CHAPTER 5

I hefted Ezekiel onto my hip and yelled after Iris as she disappeared into the hall. “Make sure you lock all the windows.”

BOOK: A Fairy's Guide to Disaster
8.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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