Quite Contrary (7 page)

“I’m Mary.”

“And I, Elizabeth, in case I haven’t said,” she returned. I was losing her. The knife scratched a line in the wood, and her eyes followed it.

“Did you make the puzzle box?” I asked to keep her focused. They were both made of wood. For all I knew it was the same skill set.

Foggy eyes turned back up to me. She had such a friendly smile, the kind that makes you think getting drunk is harmless. “I did. Did you like it? The Queen seems very pleased. Truly, it should have been my masterpiece.”

I stared at that rosy smile, proud and self-conscious at the same time, and some of the tension went out of my shoulders. I set my elbows on the table. Until I figured out how to get her out of here, I might as well relax. I could say anything I wanted. This poor girl wouldn’t remember in five minutes.

“I didn’t think wood carving was on the approved list of princessly skills,” I prodded, bemused.

“A princess? Me?” Elizabeth chuckled back, “I could hardly be farther from a princess. My father is the grand master of the carpenter’s guild, it’s true, but he’s still a carpenter. He worked with his hands most of his life.”

That changed my next question completely. “How long ago did the fairies take you?” I asked, hoping I sounded casual.

“I wish I knew,” she answered wistfully, “I hope my parents aren’t worried.”

“We don’t have guilds anymore,” I whispered down to Rat-In-Boots, who was standing on my wrist. “Could she have been here more than a hundred years?”

Silently, he nodded.

“She doesn’t know, does she?” I whispered.

He shook his head.

Elizabeth hadn’t drifted back to her engraving, but her eyes didn’t quite focus on me as she apologized, “Forgive me, Mary, but the fairy magic dulls my wits terribly sometimes, and I can be slow to understand. Could you explain what you’re saying again?”

“I’m pretty sure I can’t take you back to your family, but I still want to rescue you,” I told her, hoping I sounded calm now.

Her frown faltered, her expression becoming as clouded as her eyes. “It’s very kind of you to offer, but I don’t think you ought,” she answered me slowly. Her words slurred, exaggerating her already thick accent, and she stared over my shoulder. She looked lost, struggling to explain, “I think it may be too late to do so. The Queen loves the toys I make her far too much, and she’s … she’s woven her magic into me very deeply. She would never let me go.”

As she spoke, as her face grew pinched and haunted, her hand slid out across the table. I wanted to slap it away as she picked a strawberry out of a bowl of cream, but what good would that do? Then, she bit into the strawberry, and her tight expression eased. Smiling vaguely again, she resumed scratching away at the tabletop.

Mary, you should have stopped her.
But it wouldn’t have done any good. It wouldn’t. They had her. The drugged food just kept her relaxed about it. I was stewing in frustration again, all the worse because Elizabeth had been nice to talk to.

I’d gone silent, and Rat filled in, “Did your father teach you to carve, Miss Madrigal?”

His voice shook her out of her dreamy engraving. “Oh, no,” she answered wryly, “He would never have been so irresponsible. Alas, he had his friends to be irresponsible for him.” Smiling, she almost focused on Rat as she related, “Everyone we knew were Masters in the guild, and they would bring their best toys and engravings to show each other. Then, when he wasn’t looking, they’d teach me how it was done. Father caught them more than once and swore blue in the face at them, but everything I made, he kept on a little shelf in his office.”

Rat approved. “Torn between love and responsibility. He sounds like a good man. I hope your wedding prospects didn’t pay the price.”

“By rights they should have, but my father’s kindness was rewarded with good fortune. Good fortune for both of us,” she reassured the rat, “For after all, my father’s friends were Master carpenters themselves, were they not? And their sons were carpenters, and they were entirely delighted by the notion of a wife who understood the craft. My sweet Peter Awls and I were about to be betrothed when the fairies took me. Betrothed within the hour, no less. It had taken our fancy to hold the ceremony in the hedge maze, and I must have taken a wrong turn, and then … and then, there were fairies everywhere.”

The music changed again. More
Les Miserables
, now ‘A Heart Full Of Love.’ They were picking the album out of my head to annoy me. Except … this song didn’t apply to me particularly, did it? Eponine was hardly in it. I wasn’t in love with anybody. I kind of liked Elizabeth, but there was no sting in that choice of song for me.

But my rat was standing up on his hind legs on my forearm, staring raptly at pretty, redheaded Elizabeth with a personality as sweet as her face. Elizabeth in the princess dress. Rat had lived his life in fairy tales, where love at first sight was the truest love. Normally, love at first sight irritated me beyond endurance.

“Elizabeth,” I broke in, “I have an idea. Since you’re lost and can’t go home, why not become a real princess? You’re the kind of girl it happens to. All you’d need is a fairy tale animal, a guide to make your dreams come true.”

“Wouldn’t that be something? The daughter of a carpenter becoming a princess? It would take a fairy tale to make something like that happen, but you’re kind to say so.” She ended with a wistful giggle and downcast eyes, picture-perfect.

Rat spun around on my wrist, pulling hard on his ears as he stared up at me, aghast. “I’m not going to leave you!” he squeaked.

“Elizabeth needs you more than I ever will,” I sniffed.

“I’ve picked my mistress already, and I’m not going to abandon her!” he insisted. Insisted emphatically. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Rat, if you didn’t want to belong to her so badly, this wouldn’t have made you so upset.

‘He was never mine to lose.’ Even without the lyrics, I knew the line. The song was nearing its end. I had more important things to worry about, like people’s feelings.

“Rat, you want to be with her more than me,” I told him bluntly.

“You need me more,” he lied, “I’m not going to leave you. I can be at least as stubborn as you can.”

My expression must have said everything for me. “Okay, no,” he conceded, “But stubborn enough. I won’t change my mind on this. I’ve chosen my mistress.”

Stupid! His happiness was right in front of him! Mid-argument with me, he couldn’t stop himself looking over his shoulder at Elizabeth, and even on a rat’s face, I could tell he was staring. He could have his fairy tale love and his fairy tale girl and Elizabeth could be a fairy tale princess and get away from the just plain fairies. If anybody could get her out of this, Rat-In-Boots could. This was his purpose in life. She could give it to him. I sure couldn’t.

Yelling at him wouldn’t convince him of any of this. In that one way, he was certainly my rat.

‘A Heart Full Of Love’ ended, and the musicians started on ‘Little Fall Of Rain.’ My heart clenched in my chest, but not as tight as my jaw. My hand closed on a knife. If I could have seen the musicians, I’d have thrown it at them. Instead, someone screamed.

The noise had to be a fairy. It was practically a steam whistle. The fairy that came running up the path wailed with more of a cat’s yowl. It was still an agonized sound, and as I noticed the bite taken out of the creature’s midsection, it fell in half just short of the table. The body went stiff and wooden in an instant.

The Wolf came behind it, loping up the path. Blood matted his fur, drawing my eyes to the wall of muscle that had stopped the three arrows sticking out of him. Three arrows and two darts that I could see, and maybe more. His fur gleamed black with his own blood, covering any other wounds.

They weren’t even slowing him down. Despite the trail of blood drops he left in the dirt, he ran loosely, patiently. Inevitably. Straight for me.

The Queen had said that he wouldn’t be allowed here. She just sat there, fiddling with her puzzle box, uninterested or unaware. Should I run? It was too late, he was stepping onto the green. Rat and I had sat there and stared, and I couldn’t possibly run fast enough anyway.

One of the almost human elves slid out of a chair next to the Queen, strolling over in front of the Wolf. He swaggered as he walked, drawing a sparkling silver sword as thin as a knife and holding it in the Wolf’s path. That drew the Wolf up short.

“Something as crude and animal as you is not welcome at Her Majesty’s table, beast. Your magic is thick and powerful around you, but ours is stronger. Leave this place of joy, or you will die here. Neither your strength nor your glamour are as great as mine,” the elf announced. His voice was lazy and cold, but not his sword. That he held alert, pointed straight at the Wolf’s face.

The Wolf laughed, and the confidence of it shook me. “They don’t have to be,” his rich bass drawled. “My love in the red hood has a cold iron nail as a hairpin.”

The lie shocked the elf, spooked him so badly that he turned his head to glance over his shoulder at me. Stupid. The Wolf lunged forward, ducking past the silver sword. His jaws spread wide, then sank into the elf’s chest. He pulled, and gossamer clothing gave way, and skin, and bone. The elf was made of white chalk instead of flesh and glitter instead of blood, but he died when they were yanked out of him, falling limp at the Wolf’s feet.

That was going to be me in a few seconds, but much messier.

No, there were more elves. More elves, but too far away. The Wolf leaped, and I didn’t have time to throw myself backwards out of my chair. He’d pounced on a nearer target. Across the table from me, his front legs wrapped around Elizabeth. Claws dug into her princess gown. Teeth settled loosely against her throat, hardly dimpling it. She jerked in his arms, babbling, “What? What’s happening? What’s … going on?” Drunk, confused, she lay back against the monster and her eyes spun and darted.

Hot anger warred with cold fear. He was going to kill Elizabeth to get at me, and she deserved it a lot less than I did. Cold won, creeping over me as I spoke, “Rat-In-Boots said you’d find me, no matter where I went. He said the story would make it happen.” I was babbling like a stupid little girl. Appropriate.

“Then he’s only half a fool,” the Wolf replied, sounding so utterly calm. The table wasn’t nearly wide enough. I could smell the fur and blood, and watch his animal lips move around Elizabeth’s throat as he continued, “The story is the story of my love. I followed you because I love you, and I will follow you to the ends of the Earth for that love. I live for love, and I’ve killed for love, and I’ve faced the axe for love. My love for the girl in the red will conquer all.” Crap, that voice. It didn’t seduce, it promised. He meant it.

Which was stupid. “You don’t love me. All I am is a girl in a red hood to you,” I stammered. He was about to kill me, and he’d kill poor Elizabeth first, but I couldn’t stop myself from arguing.

He chuckled, teeth bouncing against Elizabeth’s neck. Please don’t let them tighten. “Isn’t that enough? Love is not one single, true, and perfect flower. I have loved girls who were innocent, and girls who were corrupt, and girls who were eager and passionate, and girls broken by fear. I loved them to their last breath, and I love you, Red Riding Hood.”

“I’m not Red Riding Hood! My name is Mary!” I tried to yell. It came out a pathetic squeak.

“Every Red Riding Hood had a name, my love,” the Wolf purred, unmoved. No, he was moved. Pale blue canine eyes stared right at me. He wanted me so badly, he wasn’t paying the slightest attention to Elizabeth. Not that he had to. “Every girl is her own unique person, but conquering her is always the same. I admit, I’ve grown jaded. Blood is blood, and meat is meat, and kisses are kisses, and sweet girlish curves are sweet girlish curves. Then I met you. With you, love feels like it’s new again, and I would walk into the arms of death for it.”

Meaningless sweet talk, the kind of promise any boy makes to a girl. Except I believed every word. Especially the words ‘blood’ and ‘meat.’

Say something, Mary. Outwit him. Something.

Instead, I let him finish. “Let me get to know you, Red. Let me see your true heart, under that deliciously fiery mask. I’ll give you a choice. Come to me willingly. Walk into my embrace on your own feet. Or refuse, and maybe you’ll escape me, but she dies. I don’t have a preference. Choose with your heart, that’s all I ask.”

I had to move. I had to stop sitting here and move. I pushed myself awkwardly to my feet. Rat leaped off the table and clung to my sleeve. It was stupid, but that made me feel just better enough to think. “I won’t let someone die for me. If I did, would I be worth anyone’s love?” I spat those words in disgust, because I meant them.

He was hooked. There were no words to his growl, just pleasure and even more desire. His teeth remained in Elizabeth’s throat. So I walked slowly, trying not to trip over lead feet and knees that didn’t want to support me. The huge table made it a long walk, all the way up to the end where the Queen sat, ignoring all of us. She didn’t care. The fairies didn’t care. They were quiet, maybe interested, but they didn’t care. The Queen wasn’t even watching, not even as I walked past her.

Someone sure cared when I reached out to slap her across the face. The previous impacts had left me stiff and sore, and the world tumbled and it hurt as bodies slammed into me from every direction I wasn’t looking. I’d gotten close, and they piled onto me in vengeance. I got a close-up and uncomfortable view of twigs, and hair, and muscle, as heavy things pinned me to the grass. They’d cared about that, all right.

So did the Wolf. He howled. He screamed. He’d meant his declarations of deranged love, and that scream of fury got louder as he leapt onto the pile of freaks who’d attacked me. I spilled out as he tore at them, but now they cared. Fairies climbed out of their seats, onto the grass and onto the table, charging into the ball of twisting flesh that spilled blood, and glitter, and sap, and things I couldn’t identify. Fairies died, thrown out of the melee as the Wolf broke them, but there were so many, I didn’t know who was winning.