Queen of the Fae: Book Two in the Fae Unbound Series (Fae Unbound Teen Young Adult Fantasy Series) (17 page)

Just before dawn, Eamon spread a trail of sugar from one of the burrow holes off into the woods. With a little luck, it would lure only one of the gnomes his way. If more than one found the trail, it would be more difficult to manage. He didn't know if they'd have enough amnesia potion for more than three.

He and James lay silently on the ground among the tall green ferns, waiting for one of the gnomes to exit the burrow in the first light of false dawn and catch the scent. It wasn't long before one of the elder gnomes popped his head out of the burrow, nose twitching. Greedy thing that he was, he exited the burrow, turned around, placed his small rear end over the burrow entrance, and blew out a great load of gas to keep his huddle-mates from sniffing the treat before he'd scooped it all up for himself.

Eamon was poised at the ready as the gnome approached them and sprung from his hiding place to grab the gnome, placing a hand over his mouth from behind while James uncorked the potion.

"Alright, then, if you know what's good for ye, you'll not try to rouse your huddle when I remove my hand from your mouth. You know who that lad is, right?" Eamon said, as he nodded toward James, "The great sorcerer Myrddin, that's who he is. He doesn't
want
to hurt you, but you know that he could."

The gnome nodded solemnly, his eyes wide with fear.

"Good. Myrddin has something for ye. Drink it down without a fuss, right?"

The gnome nodded again.

Eamon removed his hand from the gnome's mouth, and James handed the potion to the gnome. "All of it, now. It won't harm you."

His eyes still wide, the gnome never removed his gaze from James's face as he drank the potion. The effect was immediate. Eamon let him go as he suddenly relaxed and started giggling quietly, sitting down on the grass.

Eamon told the gnome what he expected him to do, and the gnome walked a circuit around the Moore's backyard with James and Eamon following behind. He chanted, farted, and burped as he went. Eamon had never been sure if the bodily functions were an important part of magic for the gnomes or if they just couldn't control it, even for their rituals. Not that gnomes are big on mystical. They're earthy creatures with very simple needs: food, shelter, safety, and gods to cover the bases for everything else. It doesn't get more basic than that.

When the gnome was done, Eamon had him sit back down in the grass and handed him the memory potion, advising him to drink. When the gnome finished off every drop, Eamon took the bottle from him, and he and James quickly walked past the porch, around the side of the garage, then out to the driveway where they parted with an enthusiastic fist bump. 

Eamon knew that the gnome, when he woke up with his small leather pouch now full of sugar, wouldn't pause to wonder how he'd gotten so lucky to come across such a rare treat. Gnomes just aren't smart enough to ask the really big questions.

Through the sliding glass door at the back patio of the Moore house, Gurrdenn watched Bobby eat his breakfast, kiss his mother, and then grab his backpack and walk toward the front door. He called out to the others, and they joined him as he headed for the gate at the side of the yard.

The gnomes were moving fast when they slammed against the invisible barrier. There were many cries of pain and a great deal of gnomish cursing. A few minutes later, they’d recovered their normally upbeat approach to problems and took another run at the barrier.

After the fourth attempt, getting the same result every time, Gurrdenn walked back to the burrow, trailed by his huddle-mates. He sat on the flat stone that served as the place of law-giving. The others brought him food and drink while he sat and pondered in front of the azaleas.

When Lizbet's alarm went off, she woke up feeling groggy and light-headed with just a touch of a headache. She felt the pull of a small craving. It wasn't hunger. In fact, she didn't feel hungry at all. When her eyes lit on the small brown bottle on the table, it occurred to her that it was just the thing. There was still at least three-fourths of a bottle of the stuff, so she would have plenty to make it through school this week. But she definitely needed to talk to Tanji about getting more.

Once the potion hit her system, she felt brilliantly alive. She bounded from bed with a song and dance. When she joined Bobby for breakfast, she gave him an extra portion of noogies. Oh, what a beautiful day!

She was bopping down the hallway at school when the shakes hit. She felt awful. Suddenly, she was so sleepy she felt sick. She sunk to the floor next to a set of lockers and rummaged through her backpack, looking for the brown bottle she'd made sure to store there before she left the house.

There were gray spots swirling before her eyes, and she sank lower onto the floor, but then...she found the bottle...it was such an effort to raise it to her lips...and then...oh, brilliant day. The warmth of it flowed through her and she felt like she could fly.

Feeling that she could, she did.

She laughed at the other students as they ran to get out of her way when she buzzed down the center of the hall, flapping her wings vigorously just for show.

"Ha! Why walk when you can fly? I'm having the BEST day!"

Miss Armstrong stood in the middle of the hall near the gym, talking to one of the girls on the track team. As the other students got out of the way noisily, she looked up and then turned to plant herself firmly in Lizbet's way.

"Moore! What's gotten into you? Feet on the floor! Now!"

Lizbet stopped then, and hung in the air for a moment, unsure about what was happening. She still felt pumped, better than she'd ever felt. And maybe that was the problem. She lowered her feet to the floor.

Miss Armstrong called down the hall. "Anyone hurt?"

There were headshakes, and a few students quietly answered "no".

"Moore, you're lucky this time. But, I think from now on we can agree that in addition to no running in the halls, there'll be no flying. Understood?"

Lizbet nodded her head. "Yes, Miss Armstrong. I was just feeling so good, I didn't think about it until I was doing it."

"No excuses, young lady. You should have known better."

"Yes," Lizbet said, "I'm sorry."

Lizbet next got the shakes when she was in the girl's bathroom after her last class. As she pulled the precious bottle out of her backpack, her hands were so unsteady she lost hold of the it. It bounced against the edge of the counter as it fell and then shattered as it hit the hard tile floor. Lizbet stared at it, still shaking, until she dropped unconscious into the spreading pool of potion and shattered glass.

Morgan held a hand over the girl's arm where there was a deep gash, bleeding freely. The wound closed as a pale blue light glowed from the fae's open palm. Better. It would not do to have the Queen of the Fae greeting her followers bloodied.

She stood up then, looking down at the mess the girl had made of things. She could feel many small cuts and a painful bump on her head.
She's freed me, at least. I am more than glad that Thomas suggested that potion to Langoureth. Too bad he didn't know the side effects. Perhaps I should have mentioned them when I gave it to him?
Morgan smiled to herself.

As a group of girls entered the bathroom, she turned to face them. One of them asked, "Lizbet, are you okay?"

"I think you'll find I'm better than ever," Morgan replied, as she faded into the aether.

She popped back to Lizbet's house to change her clothes, and after she’d cleaned herself up and approved her appearance in the mirror, she walked downstairs and waved her hand across several pieces of furniture, reshaping them into more suitable styles. The house would do for her court for now. She didn't want to return to Scotland without Myrddin, and she would have to be happy with having him next door until he was ready to leave for home with her. She felt sure that she could convince the girl's mother that this is what an integrated version of Lizbet would be like. It would be difficult, though, to pretend to the innocence of the girl, even for a short time. Still, it had to be. Declaring herself as Morgan would lose her Myrddin and turn many humans against her. Neither of these things suited her plans.

She'd dressed in some of Lizbet's clothes instead of her own. She would eventually start dressing to her own tastes, but until everyone accepted her as Lizbet, she would have to be careful. The changes to the furniture would be enough for now. She had to make those changes: she would soon be holding court for her subjects.

The front doorbell rang. She opened the door, hands free, as a queen would. Faolan, no...Thomas, stood before her. He dropped to one knee, but he did not bow his head. Instead he looked up at her, his gaze one of adoration.

"I felt you here, my queen. I knew it was you."

The Fae didn't quite know what to do with him. He’d been a danger to Myrddin in the past, but she knew he was no threat now, and certainly, he was easily misled. Otherwise, he wouldn't be here looking up at her as he offered himself to serve.

"You may rise, Thomas. Yes, I've integrated now. Please, call me Lizbet, for that is who I am. But I am Lizbet
and
Queen of the Fae."

Thomas nodded and rose. He was at least a foot taller than she was and as handsome as Faolan had been. Faolan's beauty had been wasted when he joined the monastery. She remembered her petty desire for great-grandchildren from him when she had a human side and her upset when he chose to serve the church as a celibate instead. How foolish it seemed now, when she had lived for so many hundreds of years. She needed no children and grandchildren to carry on her legacy, only this young body that Lizbet had so recently yielded to her.

"Thomas, if you are offering to serve, there may soon be a time when I have a request of you."

"Anything."

Sheila arrived home to a house full of fae. Mona was there, and a full elf was also seated stiffly on the living room couch, his bow resting across his lap, ready for action if needed.

Lizbet sat in a large wooden and velvet chair where a recliner had sat that morning.

"Lizzie, what's going on?"

"Mom, welcome home. I would like to introduce my friends. You know Mona, or, as she was known in Morgan's court, Euphemia. This is Freoric; he’s the representative of the elves in this country. They’ve come to pay their respects to me as their queen."