Instead of doing a limerick this week, I decided to give you all a new short. I fed every story on my website into the Botnik predictive keyboard. The result is beautiful. I think I might just give up writing and let AIs do it from now on. Here you go:
The people of Helevina know very well that one person raised in Kalathea has become nothing. The king ‘s inexperience with his mouth was completely harmless. However he couldn’t stop calling out his people for their religion.
James realized that cleaning unfinished donuts was going to kill him.
” You are incapable of reason! ” He exclaimed. ” How about killing me yourself? “
The high elf king glared at him. ” You don’t understand why his father died. Fairies have filthy eyes full of paperwork. ”
He looked wildly around. The entire room was completely transformed in to a multinational organization.
“Alexander ‘s heart desires as many espresso shots as you can make,” the receptionist explained.
Every person ‘s reputation was crashing. Santa Claus was standing next to her.
” Fairies are everywhere, ” he exclaimed.
James noted this. ” I will tell them to find another job, ” he said.
Alexander looked over his shoulder at Mackerel Valley Airport and started screaming for his father.
” I thought you were dead, ” Fausta recalled. ” You must not change anything. It would only bring me these behaviors. ”
Well they were all sitting together with pens calling for their favorite monks. Then, finally, Debra decided to approach everything before them and Alexander marveled. He felt certain his employees were going to jump across horses until Christmas.
” How about killing humans? ” Alexander asked. ” I already prepared hundreds of Christmas elves. ”
The old monk motioned to the closest person, then stepped aside allowing him to break his face.
” This is wrong, ” Fausta complained. ” You don’t understand these behaviors. ”
Alexander grumbled something under his breath and then obediently followed her to the airport newsstand. Normally they could continue mourning his people, but he was just preparing for his covetous companions to get blamed.
Scott was desperate to win his attention and started screaming viciously. When the guards frantically called every person in, the airport gremlin philosophers despaired. They were having lunch and when they could not retreat, the high elves declared war. Peasants protested and Alexander realized that he was dressed like a woman.
He started gobbling them up and this took place in Kaltehafen.
A hipster named Jose once said, He would only eat organic bread. When a famine came 'round, And none could be found, He was pesticide free and yet dead.
I recently asked my FaceBook friends to provide me with random topics. I had to create a limerick for each topic provided. Below are the results:
Topic One: Getting a Root Canal
I know a fellow named Dwayne, whose tooth was in horrible pain, He neglected to brush, and it filled up with pus, so the dentist removed the whole vein.
Topic Two: Diesel Fuel
Put this in a gasoline car, and it certainly won't go that far. The engine will die, and you'll start to cry, and vent your despair at the bar.
Topic Three: “Excessive outdoor temperatures and/or hatred of exercise lol”
Climate change made it so hot, though Fred had to move he would not. An inconsolable grouch, he lay on the couch, unwilling to do what he ought.
Now it’s your turn. Got any random topics? Leave them in the comments and I will see what I can do. Also, feel free to request a topic of your own. I’ll give you something really hard. >:)
Pests are a problem everywhere. There are roaches in the city, mice in the country, and gremlins at Mackerel Valley Airport. Roaches are filthy and almost indestructible, mice chew on things and leave droppings all over, but either are preferable to gremlins. You see, any inconvenience mice and roaches cause humans is purely accidental. They are just creatures trying to survive.
Gremlins, on the other hand, intend all the frustration they cause. Nothing delights them more than seeing a normally patient human snap. How a creature’s entire existence could center around annoying people, was a puzzle to scientists and philosophers alike. That is until a certain gremlin by the name of Squabble shed some light on the mystery.
Squabble lived in the B-Terminal at Mackerel Valley Airport. Like all the other gremlins, he was short, green, warty, and had a nasty array of pointed teeth. His diet consisted mostly of wilted kale and lemon rinds.
He had a strict routine for irritating people. He would begin his day going into one stall in every restroom across the terminal and shredding an entire roll of toilet paper. He would cover the floors and the walls with paper pieces and then throw the remainder of the roll into the toilet bowl. Then he would stop by every gate area and disconnect all the charging stations. Lastly, he would go to every newsstand and markup the price of water bottles by two dollars.
Things got really bad though, when he started hacking the Intermittent Airlines computer system. He would randomly change gates, reassign seats, and add fees to anything and everything he could. Sometimes, he would sit across from the customer service desk and snicker as the lines of enraged passengers vented their frustrations.
One day, Squabble decided to sit at one of the gates by the podium where he had a clear view of the agent. He was wearing a trenchcoat and a hat with the brim tipped low over his face, so that no one would recognize him as a gremlin. He was jittering with excitement as he thought of the misery he was about to cause. He opened up his laptop, found the next departing flight, and reviewed his options.
He noticed an empty seat in first class and had an idea. He was going to find the poorest person on the flight and reassign him to that seat. He laughed as he thought of how disgusted the first class passengers would be at the idea of sharing their cabin with a mortal.
It took some internet stalking, but he was able to find a suitable victim. After reassigning the seat, he watched for the gate agent to see what would happen. She called the passenger on the intercom. Squabble watched the first class customers as the man approached the podium. He was a scruffy, college student with a backpack held together with duct tape. Most of the first class passengers were on conference calls and didn’t notice him at all.
When the gate agent told him about the upgrade, the elites neither noticed nor cared. But the college student’s face brightened and he whole-heartedly thanked the gate agent. She was smiling, he was smiling, they were so… happy. It was the complete opposite of what Squabble intended.
It gave him a feeling he’d never felt before. It was a warm and toasty feeling right where his heart would have been (if he had a heart). He felt good, then he felt uncomfortable. Making people happy wasn’t supposed to make him feel good. It was contrary to the teachings of all the greatest gremlin philosophers.
He shook off the feeling and looked for something else to do. Over the course of the next week, he mixed up baggage, stuck gum in the bottom of the security bins, and sat behind the information desk giving travelers bad directions.
When he finally returned to hacking, he noticed another empty seat in first class. He couldn’t help but wonder if that warm and toasty feeling would return if he upgraded someone else from coach. He shook his head. It would be unethical for a gremlin to do something like that. (To gremlins, the unethical was ethical and vice versa.)
Still, the curiosity was nipping and tugging at him. He decided to try it. Could making one person feel good really be so bad?
He watched as the gate against called the passenger to the podium. The woman smiled, thanked the agent, and immediately pulled out her phone and called someone. Squabble could hear her telling the person on the other end about how excited she was. The feeling returned. That lovely, warm feeling seemed directly related to making people happy.
He needed to be sure. Over the next few days, Squabble upgraded five passengers and each time the result was similar. Not only that, but the demeanor of the gate agents seemed to change. They weren’t used to making people happy. Intermittent Airlines policy strictly forbid it. He heard them speculating about whether corporate was doing some sort of promotion.
Squabble began to wonder if doing other things to make people happy would have the same result. He decided to experiment. He borrowed a motorized cart and started giving the elderly rides to their gates. He told people where they could find the shortest security lines and working charging stations. (There weren’t many, but Squabble knew where they were.)
The more he did these things, the more he experienced that warm and toasty feeling. But these behaviors also had some effects he didn’t expect. Wilted kale and lemon rinds started making him sick. Instead, he started craving mint candies and jelly beans. His teeth started to straighten and his warts faded away. His skin was losing its green color. His fellows mocked his bright eyes and rosy cheeks. He was hideous, almost as ugly as a human.
Still, he wasn’t quite human. He maintained his short stature and pointed ears and didn’t really feel like he belonged anywhere. He almost wondered if he should return to his gremlin ways. The gremlins were bitter and mean and horrible company, but as a gremlin, he knew where he belonged. Now he didn’t belong anywhere.
He spent many long hours fighting with himself, trying to decide if the joy of helping others was worth the identity crisis it caused. He wasn’t really sure, but each of his subsequent actions indicated that it was.
Then one day, he found his answer (or it found him). He saw a massive herd of rosy-cheeked, pointy-eared, tiny, little people coming through security. They were riding the bins through the x-ray machine per the TSA officer’s instructions and squealing with delight as the bins bumped down the rollers on the other side.
Squabble was used to seeing people grumble and complain as they came through security, but these little people were saying things like:
“Isn’t it nice that they let us ride in the bins? We didn’t even have to take our shoes off!”
And
“Look he stamped my boarding pass AND gave me a sticker!”
They also had a compliment for every TSA officer they encountered. It was like nothing Squabble had ever seen before. They made him feel warm and toasty all over.
When the entire group was through, they waited patiently until they were joined by an old, bearded man in a red sweatsuit. He did have to take his boots and belt off and go through the metal detector along with the rest of the humans, so he was delayed in joining his tiny companions. Then, they all made their way toward the B-gates.
Squabble ran after them.
“Hey!” he cried.
One of the little creatures tailing the group noticed him and called:
“Don’t fall behind! We only have one hundred eighty-two days until Christmas and can’t afford to miss this flight!”
“What flight? Where are you—we going?”
She glanced back at him again. “Oh, sorry! I thought you were with us!” She giggled. “Just not used to seeing other elves in Mackerel Valley, I guess.”
“I’m not an elf,” Squabble objected. “Elves are tall and really ugly. I mean really ugly.”
“You’re funny!” She laughed.
Squabble scowled. He didn’t see what was funny about it.
“Where are you going?” He called, scurrying to keep up.
“Anchorage!” She replied. “To get the reindeer, then back to the North Pole.”
At once, Squabble darted toward the nearest ticketing kiosk. With a little hacking, he managed to secure a ticket and before he knew it he was seated among the elves thirty-thousand feet above the ground. They were all so talkative and excited that it took them awhile to notice he wasn’t a part of their original group.
An eight hour flight left plenty of time for questioning, so it was that the elves managed to extract the truth. It took some doing since Squabble wasn’t forthcoming. He was concerned they wouldn’t accept him if they learned of his gremlin upbringing. Had he known anything about Christmas elves, he wouldn’t have been concerned. They decided to adopt him before the plane even touched down. They gave him a job as a programmer and changed his name to Sour-apple Cherry Tart.
So it was that the origin of the gremlin species was discovered. They were simply the descendants of Christmas elves gone bad. Every so often, another airport gremlin experiences the call of his ancestors and turns from his evil ways. If you are ever in Mackerel Valley Airport and experience a random upgrade to first class, the most likely cause is a gremlin having an identity crisis. I guarantee it isn’t Intermittent Airlines doing.
Wanted to give you all a quick update. On July 7th, I will be publishing my next short story as planned. Then I am going to take a summer break until Oct. 7th (when I will post my Halloween story).
What will I be doing in August and September? A couple of exciting things:
Taking my series of Alexander short stories, and fleshing them out into a full length novel! Yay!
Making some general improvements to my website.
Building up a backlog of short stories for the Fall months. I am having a baby on November 8th, so I want to have a bunch of short stories scheduled ahead of time. I guess I could work while I am in labor since it takes a while, but don’t want to depend on that. Incidentally, my last childbirth experience is part of what inspired Davy of the Sound. I am hoping things will be uneventful this time. But if they aren’t, you will certainly read about it in a future short.
Making more of my existing stories available for ereader.
I will keep in touch, and post some fun stuff as I have time.
Alexander woke in a place unlike any he’d ever seen. He sat up, rubbing his horribly sore throat, and drank in the unusual scene.
It was a large cylinder shaped room with a dome for a ceiling. Right in the center of the dome, was the circular entrance to a tunnel of some sort. It was wide enough for Alexander to crawl through, but impossible to reach. It was the only way in or out of the room as far as he could see. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all crafted from a single piece of red glass. The perimeter was littered with objects: pots, books, scrolls, and all manner of baubles.
Alexander stood and pressed his face against the wall, trying to see through the glass. He could only make out shapes and shadows.
“So someone’s been telling you our secrets,” came Acacia’s voice.
Alexander spun around to see the twins standing a few paces behind him.
“Did they tell you there are plenty of ways to make someone miserable without killing them?”
“Like trapping them in a bottle for two thousand years!” Jace explained cheerily. “Fortunately for you, you won’t live that long. Remind me, how long do these things live, sister?”
“Oh… ninety years, maybe, if you take good care of them,” Acacia shrugged. “Though, he probably wouldn’t live half a century on his own. It’s amazing how many things can kill humans!”
“Not fairies,” Alexander observed.
“Are you sure about that?” Acacia sneered. “Because the Kalathean’s just saw us kill you.”
“And begged us to forgive them for rebelling,” Jace added.
Alexander found this story highly unlikely. He didn’t know what the people actually saw, but someone must have noticed how much effort the twins expended strangling him. Even if the people thought he was dead, they must realize that the twins couldn’t possibly threaten an entire city full of people unless they had the patience to kill each person individually over a long period of time.
He thought about making a cynical reply, but he was too exhausted to think of anything clever and his throat still hurt.
“You know something?” Acacia smiled. “I think this is a more suitable punishment than death. Abandoned in this bottle, tormented by his loneliness, forgotten by his loved ones.”
“What loved ones?” Jace asked. “No one loves him, thanks to us!”
Alexander longed for something to shove into his ears. Being alone sounded like paradise after listening to the twins babble on all day.
Acacia snorted. “Now that I think about it, being with his family is probably worse than being separated from them. What a shame we can’t bring Justin back to keep him company!”
“What about her?” Jace asked, pointing to a huddled figure leaning against the opposite wall. Alexander could have sworn she wasn’t there a minute ago. Her head was bent, and her long dark hair fell around her face, blocking his view. She looked up when Jace motioned to her.
“Alex,” she gasped.
Alexander felt a rush of anger at the sight of his sister. His cheeks flushed red, he turned his back to her, and stood with his arms crossed glaring at the floor.
“It seems you two have a lot to talk about,” Acacia smiled. “Take your time, you have forever.”
With that, the twins disappeared. After what did indeed seem like eternity, Fausta spoke in a voice so small he could barely hear her.
“I’m glad you’re alive.”
Alexander ignored her.
“I know you don’t want to talk to me,” she continued. “So I’ll say just one more thing and keep quiet. Everything that happened is my fault and I’m sorry.”
She sank to the floor, buried her face in her knees and for a long time the room was still. The only sound was an occasional sniffle from Alexander.
He spent so many long hours since his banishment, thinking up things he would say if he saw her again. In that moment, he forgot them all.
When he turned to face her, and opened his mouth to speak, the only word that escaped was: “Why?”
“Because it wasn’t fair. While Father was sick and Justin was off drinking himself to oblivion, I was keeping this kingdom together. I was—”
“I know why you usurped me,” Alexander interrupted. “Why didn’t you kill me?”
“What do you mean?” Fausta asked. “Of course I wouldn’t kill you, Alex.”
“Why not? You don’t love me.”
“Of course I do.”
“Do you slander everyone you love?” He snapped. “Perhaps it was some sentimental attachment. I was like… some old doll you’d outgrown but couldn’t part with.”
“That’s not true,” she scowled.
“That’s exactly what it was! You were a little girl and I was a baby without a mother. You rocked me and dressed me and carried me everywhere. Then you grew up and there I was, getting in the way.”
She leapt to her feet and stood with her fists clenched, fuming. “You forgot to mention that I defended you, and avenged you, and then ran your kingdom for you. Show a little gratitude.”
“Thank you for sentencing me to death then changing your mind,” Alexander replied dryly.
“I was supposed to kill you!” She cried. “How could I leave the kingdom in your hands when you were so, so, incompetent and soft.” She wiped a tear off her cheek. “…and kind and gentle and nothing like what a king should be.”
“Good night, Fausta,” Alexander stated.
He curled up on the floor with his back to her. He doubted he would be able to sleep on the cold glass, but he was tired of talking to her. He was tired in every way.
Alexander made a routine for himself. He started each morning with Dawn Prayer. (He didn’t know the actual time or the day so he had to guess which psalms to use.) Then he would explore his surroundings, looking through all the books and scrolls the fairies discarded. He almost fainted in awe when he found what he believed to be one of Rouvin’s original scrolls. Ilona would be so jealous, if he was ever able to tell her about it.
He found a large storage jar and placed the scroll inside. From then on, anytime he found something he thought Ilona would like, he dropped it in the jar. In the days that followed, he added several more scrolls, coins and jewelry from empires long passed, and a long spiral horn he thought belonged to a unicorn. (It actually came from a narwal.) He would probably never be able to show her the things he collected, but doing it made him feel close to her, so he persisted.
He noticed charcoal drawings scattered on the walls, and started looking for the charcoal. He found a few chard sticks in one of the pots and began to cover the walls and the floor with drawings of his own.
He prayed again at nine o’clock (or what he guessed was nine), and every three hours afterward until he went to sleep. Since the Divine Office was usually prayed in a group, he tried to convince Fausta to join him. She agreed, but was out of practice and kept forgetting bits and stumbled over words.
Twice a day, food would materialize in the middle of the room. It consisted of dry bread, and raw vegetables. Sometimes there was an egg or two.
Alexander made a mark on the wall every morning, counting the days of his captivity. The more scratches he made, the more he longed for human companionship. Sometimes he would forget his anger and talk to Fausta for hours. He told her his story, leaving out only a few minor details, like the existence of Ilona. He didn’t know if the twins were listening but didn’t want to chance it. When he told her about the service he rendered Filbert and Florian, she laughed.
“Father would be furious. He really hated Kalts.”
“Did he?” Alexander asked. “I mean, more than any other barbarian people?”
“Oh yes,” Fausta replied. “Strange how he could forgive Justin for one drunken outburst after another but couldn’t forgive the Kalts for something that happened hundreds of years ago.”
“Father loved Justin as much as either of us,” Alexander rationalized.
“Really?” Fausta questioned. “Then why’d he look the other way when Justin was abusing you?”
Alexander had no answer and he didn’t like to think about it.
“I, for one, will always be grateful to the Kalts,” Fausta commented. “For putting Justin in his place.” She grinned, then added. “They are the reason he drinks, you know.”
Alexander snorted. Justin had, at one time or another, blamed every living thing in the palace for his addiction. “I wouldn’t be this way if Father raised me right!” He would say. To Fausta he would assert: “I wouldn’t be like this if you weren’t Father’s favorite.” He was particularly cruel to Alexander, telling him he wouldn’t be a drunk if Alexander hadn’t killed their mother. It took Fausta ages to convince Alexander he wasn’t responsible.
“In all fairness,” Alexander smiled. “If Justin told me the Kaltish kings were the reason for his drinking, I might actually believe him.”
One evening, as Alexander was lying on the floor trying to sleep, he looked up at the wall and counted twenty-nine marks. With the thought of the thirtieth day, the reality of his imprisonment pierced him. He was never going to see Ilona again.
He rolled over to face the wall so Fausta wouldn’t notice the tears on his cheeks. What if the twin’s story was true and the people were worshiping them again? That would mean he lost her for nothing. He supposed he would never know what happened to his people, at least not in this life.
Fortunately, he was wrong. He was going to find out much sooner than he realized.
Alexander woke to the blinding light of the Kalathean sun. He was lying on the ground among the brambles, looking up at the walls of Lysandria. As he stood, he realized he was dressed in the purple silk tunica of a Kalathean king.
“Good morning, Your Majesty!” Acacia greeted cheerily. She seemed incomplete somehow without her brother beside her. Alexander wondered where he was.
“What is the meaning of this?” He demanded.
“Oh, my brother and I couldn’t help but notice you were missing your wife. We thought a little visit would cheer you up.”
Alexander felt a knot in his stomach. They knew about Ilona.
“I found it!” Jace called, as he appeared beside his sister. He was holding Alexander’s crown. He placed it on the king’s head and stepped back to examine his work.
“How does he look?” Jace asked.
“Perfect!” Acacia replied.
Jace forced Alexander’s hands behind his back and bound them. Then he looped a rope around his neck and started leading him to the city gate like a dog on a leash.
“What are you doing?” Alexander asked, knowing full well he wasn’t going to get an answer. A watchman posted above the gate spotted them approaching. He disappeared and, a moment later, re-appeared running down the main road ahead of them.
Some of the other sentries posted around the gate waited for them to pass, then followed at a distance. When the city people spotted the twins approaching, they sprinted into their houses and slammed their doors behind them.
As Alexander witnessed the Lysandrian’s uncanny behavior, he smiled. “So they surrendered, did they?”
The twins were uncharacteristically quiet as they led Alexander through the palace gate. The guards did not open it for them, but made no attempt to stop them either. The twins opened it. At least Alexander assumed it was them; it opened by itself.
He hated how fairies could do magic just by willing it. If they waved a wand or chanted a spell or something, it would give him a warning. But they made no outward sign at all, and the way magic just happened around them was unsettling.
They entered the throne room to see the breathless watchman speaking to Senator Clement. A few of the other senators were present as were, to Alexander’s surprise, several Kaltish knights.
“Where is that barbarian queen of yours?” Acacia demanded.
The senators blushed.
“She’s not the Queen,” Clement corrected. “She’s—”
“The King’s wife? Next of kin? The legal ruler whether your like it or not?” Acacia asked.
Alexander found himself attempting to conceal a smile when the senator grumbled: “She’s the acting regent until we find the King’s nearest blood relative. Or you are good enough to return him to us.”
“What do you want?” Ilona demanded as she stormed into the room. When she saw Alexander the rage left her. Her mouth fell open and she looked as if she was holding back tears.
Alexander would have cried himself, except he didn’t think it would be kingly. The sight of her filled him with a strange and overwhelming combination of joy and horror. He was sure that her leadership was what kept the Kalatheans from submitting to the twins, but now that they knew who she was, what was to stop them from taking her prisoner also?
She tried to approach him, but found herself unable to move more than a few steps forward.
“We thought you might want to know about the torments your beloved King has suffered at our hands,” Jace began.
“I haven’t suffered any torments,” Alexander corrected.
“And he will continue to suffer until you surrender to us,” Jace finished shooting Alexander a glare.
Alexander burst out laughing. “Is that what this is all about? Getting Kalathea back? Beings as powerful as yourselves could go anywhere! Do anything! Tormenting us doesn’t even amuse you anymore, does it? You just can’t accept that you’ve lost.”
Acacia glanced sideways at him. A rage burned in that glimpse, though she spoke with an even matter-of-fact tone when she addressed Ilona.
“Don’t you love him?” She asked. “Doesn’t the idea of your beloved rotting for eternity in some filthy prison, bother you?”
“Not as much as being subject to you,” Ilona returned.
“As prisons go, it’s actually quite clean,” Alexander shrugged.
Ilona smiled warmly.
Jace looked at his sister. “What bothers her more than anything, is that she has the resources of two kingdoms at her disposal, yet she can’t do anything to help him.”
Fury flashed in Ilona’s eyes. Jace had struck a nerve. Her fists were clenched, her face was scarlet, she was using every drop of willpower to avoid lunging at his throat.
She locked eyes with Alexander and said: “My brothers are searching every corner of the Earth for some being powerful enough to free you. Don’t lose hope and don’t you dare submit to them.”
“Don’t worry,” Alexander replied. “I fear you far more than these two.”
They exchanged a smile. Then looking to the twins, Ilona declared: “This conversation is over.” She stormed out.
Alexander was humming when they returned him to his prison. The twins had murderous expressions.
Fausta greeted her brother with a bewildered look. “What are you smiling about?”
“He’s snapped,” Jace answered.
“Maybe,” Alexander added. “But I’ve also won. We’ve won. Our people are free—”
Alexander gagged when Jace gave the rope around his neck a tug.
“Careful!” Alexander smirked. “Don’t hurt yourself!”
“A little reminder that you are still a prisoner,” Jace mocked.
“Oh, I am not the prisoner here,” Alexander returned. “You hate me, yet you give me so much of your time. I think that you are my prisoner. Only I’ve left the prison open, even asked you to go, but you are still here complaining about my cruelty.”
Acacia glanced at Jace. “Can we kill him? I’d really like to kill him.”
“There must be a way,” Jace thought.
“Will that make you feel like you’ve won?” Alexander taunted.
“Shut up, Alex!” Fausta scolded. “You have lost it, haven’t you?”
Jace was ignoring them, lost in his thinking. Then he broke into a smile. “Oh, I’ve got it!”
“What? What?” Acacia pleaded.
“A way to kill him! Slowly and painfully with all his people watching.”
“Tell me!” Acacia begged.
“I will, but first, let’s go back to the palace and invite that lovely wife of his to come and witness his destruction.”
“What wife?” Fausta exclaimed. “Alex are you married?”
“Oh, I didn’t mention that?” He replied innocently, as he struggled against his bonds. “Are you going to release me before you go?” He asked the twins.
“No, I don’t think I will,” Acacia sneered. “Maybe your sister will help you. I’ve left a knife around here somewhere.” She smiled at Fausta. “Try not to stab him with it, dear.”
The twins vanished.
Fausta started working at the ropes on Alexander’s wrists.
“They are just taunting you, aren’t they?” She asked. “They don’t actually mean to kill you, do they?”
“I don’t know,” Alexander mumbled. With the twins gone, he allowed his fear to reveal itself. “I think they do.”
“But you said they couldn’t,” Fausta protested. He could feel her hands trembling as she struggled with the knots on his wrists, or perhaps it was his hands that were shaking.
“They can’t,” he affirmed.
Alexander woke the next morning to a kick in the ribs.
“Good morning, Your Majesty!” Jace declared cheerily. “Are you ready to die?”
“I hope so,” Alexander replied. “Us mortals should always be ready to die.”
He stretched and started looking around for his sandals. He was still dressed in the garments of a King. He assumed this was what the twins wanted. The Kalatheans were no longer their prisoner, the next best thing was the Kalathean king.
When he’d fastened his sandals, he found his crown.
“I assume you want me to wear this?” He asked as he placed it on his head. Then glancing around, he noticed that Fausta was missing.
“She’s with the other spectators,” Jace explained. “We’ll return her to her people when we’re finished killing you. Maybe they’ll make her queen again, or maybe your wife will execute her for high treason! The people and the Senate can figure all that out later.”
Alexander wondered if the Senate knew about Fausta’s crimes. Even if they did, they might not punish her. After all, the alternative heir was a Kalt. If by some miracle, Ilona stayed in power, she would certainly execute Fausta for treason. The idea of his wife having his sister killed made Alexander sick to his stomach.
Suddenly, Alexander found himself blinking in the morning sunlight. He was standing in a little valley. It must not have been far from the city, for people were crowding the surrounding hillsides. He recognized many of them from the palace. He guessed some magic was preventing them from entering the valley itself.
He noticed his sister standing a few paces away. Acacia was gripping her arm, preventing her from approaching. She must have known there was no way to break free from that grasp, but she kept struggling, unable to stifle the anxiety she felt for him.
“Your Majesty?” Jace said, drawing Alexander’s attention back to him. “You’ll need this.”
He was offering Alexander a sword.
Alexander took it and held it up, inspecting it. “I’m guessing this removes your culpability?” He questioned, then slowly swung it over Jace’s shoulder stopping it just as the blade came to rest against his neck. “Or are you hoping I’ll attempt to cut your head off so you can kill me without consequence.”
Jace was completely unphased. He didn’t even flinch at the weapon’s touch.
“If you choose not to defend yourself, that’s nothing to me,” he shrugged.
Alexander lowered his weapon, wondering who or what they were going to pit against him.
Jace glanced backward over his shoulder. In the hillside directly behind him, Alexander noticed a cave. It was partially hidden behind a patch of bushes. It wasn’t a vast opening, but certainly large enough to house a bear or a lion or some other flesh eating creature.
Alexander’s heart started pounding as the reality of his situation hit him. The twins were about to leave him at the mercy of someone or something they were confident was going to kill him.
“Where is the Queen?” Jace called scanning the crowd.
The spectators pointed to Fausta.
“No the other one,” Jace corrected. “The blonde one.”
“The acting regent?” Senator Clement corrected.
“Here!” Ilona called appearing atop the hill behind the senator.
Jace opened his mouth to address her, but Ilona cut him off.
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say!” Jace protested.
“You’re about to tell me you’ll spare my husband’s life if I fall at your feet and beg your forgiveness, and kiss your perfect little toes.”
“How is it you know me so well?” Jace exclaimed.
“Your boring and predictable. Stop talking and get on with it.”
Alexander tore his eyes from the cave and looked up at her. Her expression was cold.
“Ilona!” Alexander called. “Thank you!”
When she met his gaze, her eyes went glassy. She opened her mouth to reply but then closed it and responded with a nod.
Jace gave Alexander’s shoulder a squeeze. “I leave you at the mercy of your kingdom’s deadliest creature. Good luck!”
He sprinted away and flopped down at the base of one of the hills. His sister followed suit pulling Fausta along with her. Alexander gripped his blade, locking his eyes on the cave. Why hadn’t the creature appeared? Were they holding it back by magic until now? Unconsciously, he took a step back.
What was Kalathea’s deadliest creature? He thought of every wild beast that could possibly come charging at him from the darkness. The crowd was completely still, all holding their breath.
Alexander kept moving backward, wanting to put as much distance between himself and the cave as possible. The valley was full of shrubs and brambles that scratched his feet and snagged his clothing.
Then something struck his ankle. He jumped, glancing down to see a rock viper with its fangs buried in his flesh. He swept it into the air with his blade sending it soaring away in two pieces. He slowly lifted his hem and stared in shock at the two tiny drops of blood running down his leg.
“Watch your step!” Jace called.
Alexander laughed bitterly at his own foolishness. Kalathea’s deadliest creature… Of course, this was prime territory for vipers. A valley like this was probably home to several. He wasn’t watching his feet. He was looking at a cave that was probably empty.
“Do you feel like you’ve won?” He called to the twins.
“We absolutely have,” Jace sneered.
“I’m sure it’s a wonderful feeling,” he quipped. He felt a throbbing pain building beneath the wound. He looked around for Ilona. She had made her way down the hill and was standing as close to him as she could.
“Do you have any idea how easy it would be for us to heal you?” Acacia mentioned.
Alexander ignored her and, swallowing his pain, charged toward Ilona.
“Ah good, run around,” Jace commented. “It will spread the venom faster.”
Alexander was a few paces from Ilona when he found himself stopped by some invisible force. It was like the air tightened around him and wouldn’t release him until he ceased struggling against it. The moment he stopped running, the pain overcame him and he collapsed.
It was a horrible, burning pain, that shot up from his ankle and touched every part of his body. He couldn’t catch his breath, and was trembling violently. He was aware of people talking, calling, shouting all around him. But the pain kept increasing until he couldn’t comprehend anything else.
Someone touched his shoulder. “Alex,” it was Ilona’s voice. She knelt down beside him and gently turned him onto his back.
“The—They let you?” Alexander managed.
“They’re hoping you will convince me to surrender,” she whispered. “They’re pathetic.”
She sat down on the ground, and pulled him up into her arms, so that she was cradling him across her lap. He took a fistfull of her cloak and gripped it so hard, he almost ripped it from her shoulders.
After a long while, the pain in his ankle started to fade, replaced by a tingling numbness. He calmed and looked up into Ilona’s tear-stained face. There was something he wanted to tell her, something critically important. He was confused, each breath took a conscious effort. It was like he had to struggle against something weighing down his chest.
What was it he wanted to tell her? It had something to do with what Jace said before he brought him here.
“Spare Fausta,” Alexander pleaded.
Ilona looked surprised to hear him speaking. Or maybe she was surprised by what he asked.
“Alex?” She whispered.
“Assuming you stay in power,” Alexander continued, his head clearing as the feeling left his leg entirely. “Don’t punish her as a traitor.”
“You would ask that,” Ilona sniffed. “You’re so damn soft.”
“Don’t misunderstand me,” he insisted. “Put her in prison, just don’t execute her. I don’t trust her and I couldn’t stop resenting her if I lived another hundred years. But…” He paused for a moment trying to catch his breath. “But for reasons that are beyond me, I still love her.”
Ilona leaned in and kissed his forehead. “Alright,” she agreed. “But only because you’re dying.”
Alexander smiled weakly. He felt tears on his own cheeks. He wasn’t afraid to die, but leaving her was agony. Fausta’s betrayal, his banishment, and everything he suffered in between, was worth it because it gave him the chance to know her. He wished he could say something to express the joy he felt being close to her again.
Fausta looked on from a distance wondering what they were saying to each other. They spoke for a long time, completely lost in each other, smiling and weeping all at once. Ilona continued speaking to him, even when he could no longer reply. Finally, she stopped and held him silently for a moment as fresh tears flooded her cheeks. Then she laid him on the ground and stood looking at the twins with rage burning in her eyes.
“Are you happy?” She hissed.
“Are you?” Acacia mocked.
Ilona clenched one hand in the other as if trying to restrain herself from ripping them apart.
Fausta buried her face in her hands. Alexander was dead and it was her fault. Not only had she killed her little brother, she killed a great king. He was strong, relentless, and yet, somehow, just as gentle as he’d ever been.
Acacia turned to Fausta and smiled gleefully: “You’re brothers are both dead. You are Queen again! I mean, assuming the Senate doesn’t execute you for high treason. Did we ever tell them about that, Jace?”
Jace shrugged. “I’m sure the barbarian queen will tell them all about it. Then again, they aren’t likely to believe her. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”
Fausta tore away from the twins and ran toward a group of senators that were sitting together on the hillside. She was able to reach them unhampered. Before them and all the people she confessed her crimes and begged to be treated as a traitor.
The people murmured among themselves while the senators argued about what should be done. Then, a single voice rang out from the valley. It was a soft and pleasant voice that somehow overcame the confusion and brought every soul to silence.
“I’m sorry he killed you,” it said.
Fausta turned from the senators and looked toward the speaker. A bent old monk stood in the valley below. A viper slithered around his arms and over his hands, he looked at the creature with a broad, warm, smile. The snake looked up at him, it’s red tongue flickering curiously.
The old man stroked the viper on the head. “He was frightened, you know. Just like you were.”
Jace and Acacia were both regarding the man, petrified.
He stooped down and let the reptile slither into the brush. “Go finish napping, I’ll make sure no one else steps on you.”
He stood and smiled at the twins. “I wish every fairy could do their job as well as you two.”
“What are you talking about?” Acacia hissed.
“You united two very different peoples. In resisting you, they became stronger than they’ve ever been before. Because of you, the heartless repented, and the good became heroic.”
“You’re wrong!” Jace protested.
“You know I’m not,” the old man smiled. “If making people better bothers you so much, why don’t you sulk off and be on your own for a while.”
“Don’t you have a war to fight?” Acacia accused.
“Of course not,” the old monk replied. “I never fight.”
The twins both went scarlet with rage. Never had Fausta seen their hatred so plainly, nor their fear. They vanished without a word.
The old monk turned and began walking toward Alexander. Fausta raced down the hill after him, her heart pounding. As the old man passed Ilona, he gave her shoulder a little squeeze. Then kneeling down beside Alexander, he said:
“Don’t think you can get out of ruling so easily, My King.”
The color returned to Alexander’s cheeks, his chest rose and fell, and he started mumbling in his sleep.
“Neglecting my duty? What are you talking about?” Alexander mumbled something else incoherent than added: “Fine, Father, I’ll go back but just for a little while.”
He opened his eyes and Ilona burst into tears all over again.
Alexander looked around confused. When he saw the old monk, his cheeks flushed red.
“Where the hell have you been!” He demanded.
“I’m sorry, Alexander,” Brother Joseph replied. “I was protecting war orphans from—”
“No, stop.” Alexander ordered. “Just once, I want to be angry at you without feeling guilty about it.”
“Alright, go ahead.” Joseph smiled. “Tell me when you’re feeling better.”
Alexander scowled silently for a moment. Then sighed. “I can’t do it.”
Ilona helped him to his feet and the moment he was standing, he threw his arms around her and pressed his lips to hers.
If you are ever in Para Sympan, you can go and visit Kalathea. They have a lovely beach resort there and lots of museums. If you have two Euros and a couple hours to wait in line, you can even go down into the crypt where the Kalathean kings are buried. There are quite a few Basils, Constantines,and Justins, but there is only one Alexander. You’ll find him right between Basil the 14th and Constantine the Barbarian.
When you’re finished in Lysandria, take a bus to the Monastery on Cedar Hill. It’s hardly changed at all since Alexander’s time, except that they’ve added a gift shop. There is an old monk there, who likes to slip free candies to the tourist children. Many responsible adults have tried to dissuade him to no avail. After all, he was doing that sort of thing long before Alexander was born and will continue doing it long after you’re dead.
When Alexander returned to Kalathea, it was as a candlemaker and not as a king. He arrived in Lysandria, the capital city, driving a wagon full of honey, beeswax and every item that could be produced from these ingredients.
He found an apartment in the heart of the city and introduced himself to his curious neighbors as Alexander Freeman. (Coincidentally, this was the most common name in Kalathea.) Each day, he would push his cart to one of the city’s marketplaces, and make conversation with the locals.
He became the talk of the city, for a number of reasons. For one thing, everyone thought he looked vaguely familiar. For another, he wasn’t even slightly concerned about the increase in the number of Kaltish immigrants. When it came up in conversation, he would shrug and say: “Who wouldn’t want to live in Kalathea?”
Though the people warned him that Kalts were loud and rowdy and probably carrying diseases, he continued to keep their company. He even had two Kaltish assistants, a pair of identical twins, who followed him everywhere he went.
The strangest thing about him though, was that he did not fear the gods. In fact, he seemed to think that they were not gods at all, and that their power over humanity was limited by some magical law. His neighbors wondered if his Kaltish companions put the idea into his head. All the Kalts spoke similarly, but such irreverence was expected of Kalts.
The Lysandrians were suspicious of Alexander, at first, anyway. Everyone who got to know him, found him intelligent and pleasant. He seemed very concerned about how people were faring under the rule of the new gods, and would quietly seek out those who had suffered on their account and offer his assistance.
Overtime, his neighbors came to respect him, even if he was unusual. Word of his wisdom and generosity spread. The more the people grew to like him, the more they warned him to stop speaking ill of the gods. They told him that if he continued spouting blasphemies the gods would retaliate.
To this, Alexander smiled and replied: “I expect nothing less.”
Alexander lay awake, mulling over everything Eda told him before she returned to war. Each point was critical, yet complex. Or maybe he was just overthinking it and making it complex. He rubbed his aching forehead.
First, she reminded him, that any fairy that kills a human dies instantly. Second, if a fairy causes a human any physical pain, they will feel the pain in equal measure (though it may not be apparent, since fairies have a higher tolerance for pain). Last, she warned him sternly, not to use physical force against the twins. If a human attempts to hurt or kill a fairy, the fairy is free to kill without consequence.
Of course, Ilona responded to all Eda’s points by asking about every imaginable hypothetical situation. Like:
“If two fairies stab a human, killing him at the exact same time, which will die?”
Eda’s typical response was to roll her eyes and say: “Really? When would that ever happen?”
When Ilona persisted, thinking of even more strangely specific scenarios, Eda replied:
“Since I am not in the business of killing humans, I haven’t experimented with the boundaries of this law. I am sure Jace and Acacia could offer more insight.”
Sometimes Alexander wondered if Ilona enjoyed annoying Eda. Of course, Eda was easily annoyed.
Thinking of Ilona brought Alexander back to the present. He sighed and looked at the empty place in the bed beside him. Before leaving Kaltehafen, they made an agreement: they were to stay on the opposite sides of Lysandria and act as strangers on any chance encounter. This was for their mutual safety. The last thing Alexander wanted was for the twins to learn about their relationship and take her hostage.
It was a strange thing. He’d slept alone for nineteen years, but in less than two years of marriage, he’d gotten so accustomed to having her beside him, he couldn’t sleep without her. He should have been more comfortable with the bed to himself. Not only did Ilona take all the blankets, but she also seemed to become entirely knees and elbows at night, unconsciously jabbing his every vulnerable point.
Alexander thought back to the day they parted ways. They held each other for such a long time that Filbert and Florian had to pull them apart, scolding them, and telling them that they had been married too long to be so much in love.
Incidentally, Ilona made her brothers swear they wouldn’t leave Alexander’s side. Even now, they were sleeping in the room adjacent, ready to wake up and apprehend him if he attempted to sneak out. Living with them in close quarters was driving Alexander insane. Then again, he probably went insane long before his journey, around the time he agreed to Ilona’s plan.
“We destroy them the way they destroyed you,”she explained.“But instead of spreading lies, we spread the truth.”
The poison was working against the twins. It seemed that every day Alexander heard murmurs in the marketplace. Snippets of conversation: “Do you think it’s true?” “What would happen if we resisted?” “Why should we submit to their cruelty?”
Though there was much talk about the limits to the twin’s power, until someone was brave enough to confront the gods and test the theory, no one was likely to resist them.
Alexander woke to the sensation of something crawling across his blanket, directly over his chest. He opened his eyes to see Filbert and Florian both standing over him with horrified expressions.
Filbert had his blade raised and Florian was holding his arm whispering: “Don’t, you’ll kill Alexander.”
“What’s crawling on me?” Alexander grumbled.
“It’s a crab demon with a catapult stinger on its rear!” Florian hissed. “Don’t move!”
Alexander rolled his eyes. He gripped his blanket and sat up slowly, allowing the enemy to slide into his lap. Then he took the lamp from beside his bed and crushed the crab-demon to oblivion. Filbert and Florian made a horrified gasp with each blow.
Alexander took the flattened remains by the tail and held it up for the twins to see. He couldn’t help but smile as they shrunk backward.
“This is a scorpion,” he explained.
“What happens if it stings you?” Filbert asked.
Alexander widened his eyes in mock horror.
“Heaven forbid!” He exclaimed. “You might end up with an itchy swelling on your arm! Even warriors such as yourselves couldn’t bear it!”
The horror faded from their faces. Filbert lowered his blade.
“You’re hilarious,” Florian remarked. “Any other demon creatures you forgot to warn us about?”
“Let me think,” Alexander began. “Lots in the sea, on land just the scorpion. Oh, and the rock viper. Hides in the brush, the bite is lethal. So don’t step on it.” He yawned, tossed the scorpion aside, and pulled the blanket over his head. “Other bugs I think… I dunno.”
“Why on Earth do you want this kingdom!” Filbert complained. “It’s full of bity, stingy, things!”
“Don’t bother them, they won’t bother you,” was Alexander’s muffled response.
“That scorpion was definitely trying to kill you!” Filbert protested, then paused when the sound of some commotion rose up from the street.
Alexander leapt out of bed and threw open the window. The entire Senate (he counted twice just to be sure), was standing in the center of the square as if dropped there from above. Beside them stood two beautiful figures dressed in silk and adorned with gold. He guessed these were the twins. People were pouring out of the houses and side streets curious to see what horror was about to take place.
Alexander dressed quickly and threw open his door. Florian grabbed his shoulder.
“Us first,” he ordered. Then pushed passed Alexander.
Alexander grumbled to himself. He appreciated their help, but wished they wouldn’t treat him like a child.
“I’m so glad you’ve all come!” Acacia announced, as the crowd gathered round. “I think you are going to like what we have to tell you!”
“It’s come to our attention,” Jace began. “That many of you are beginning to question whether you should follow us.”
“It’s only natural that you would,” Acacia soothed. “Doesn’t every child question their parents from time to time?”
Alexander worked his way toward the front of the crowd, ignoring Filbert and Florian’s orders to stay back.
“And when children rebel, isn’t it necessary for their parents to correct them?” Acacia added.
“Certainly!” Jace agreed. “Not to punish of course, but merely to explain why they need their parent’s guidance?”
Alexander stopped behind the first line of spectators. Up close, he recognised many of the senators and didn’t want to risk being recognized himself.
“You need us because you are evil,” Jace explained. “It’s that simple. You fight, you steal, you act selfishly, and you need us gods to…” He smiled venomously. “Help you practice virtue.”
“We’ll show you what we mean,” Acacia continued, then gestured to the senators behind her. “You, the people, have decided that these men are the wisest in your kingdom and most worthy of respect.”
A few of the spectators snickered.
“You’ve selected them to govern over you, to represent you. Yet there is not an honest man among them.”
The woman adjacent to Alexander, rolled her eyes and mumbled: “I’m shocked.”
Those around her stifled their laughter.
“Each of these men,” Acacia continued. “Has claimed to be superior to the others. Some by their intellect, some by their deeds, and some by being of noble birth.”
“Now we demand a sacrifice,” Jace smiled. “And we, as gods, demand only the best that humans can offer.” He turned to the senators. “Tell me which of you is the greatest? That man will be sacrificed.”
The square suddenly became so silent you could hear a scorpion scuttling on the cobblestone. The senators all looked at each other.
“Well, gentlemen?” Acacia pressed. “You always seemed so sure about this before. Why the hesitation?”
That’s when Alexander became aware of an opportunity, one he couldn’t afford to miss. He broke from the crowd. Filbert and Florian muttered profanities as he slipped from their grasp and stood before the twins.
“I’ll make this easy for you,” he exclaimed. “I am the greatest by virtue of my birth and I would gladly offer myself as a sacrifice to the gods.” The corner of his lip turned up very slightly as he added: “I only ask that they would honor me, by taking my life with their own hands.”
“It’s true!” cried one of the senators. “This is Prince Alexander, son of our late King Basil. No one can claim to be more worthy than him!”
The entire Senate agreed. All affirming his identity (even the few who hadn’t met him), and acknowledging his kingship.
A murmur ran through the crowd as Alexander’s neighbors suddenly realized why he looked familiar.
Meanwhile, Jace and Acacia burst out laughing and didn’t stop until they had almost suffocated themselves.
“You know something?” Jace coughed. “I can’t remember the last time I was surprised!”
“Delightful? Isn’t it?” Acacia replied. “I’d almost forgotten how it felt! You’ve done us a great service, Your Majesty!”
“Why don’t we spare him?” Jace suggested. “He can pick which senator should be sacrificed.”
“Excellent suggestion!” Acacia answered. “How about him?”
She pointed to one of the men Alexander remembered as being particularly supportive of his execution.
Alexander furrowed his brow, and stood silently for a moment as if deep in thought. What he was actually doing was reading the crowd. The Kalatheans were captivated by the scene unfolding before them, eager to see to see how Alexander was going to test their gods. The Kalts were watching the Kalathean guardsmen posted around the square. Most of them were Filbert and Florian’s knights, present to protect Alexander and their own kings if trouble arose.
Filbert and Florian were both motioning to Alexander, in an attempt to communicate their displeasure without revealing themselves. Alexander responded to them with a subtle shrug.
Then he answered the fairies. “By my order, we will not sacrifice anyone to you, because you are not gods and we owe you nothing. If you want someone sacrificed, you will have to do it yourselves.”
How such a large crowd could go so silent, Alexander didn’t know. It was like everyone was holding their breath, waiting to see what the gods would do to him.
“He’s much bolder, than I remember,” Jace smirked. “Last time I saw him, it seemed the only word he knew was ‘Fausta’.”
Acacia put her hand on her brother’s shoulder and gave him a nostalgic smile. “Oh yes! I remember that! Even when she finally sentenced him, he couldn’t quite comprehend her betrayal. He just kept saying her name until they dragged him off.”
Alexander felt himself wincing at their words, an anger more pure and more ravenous than any he’d ever felt before was bubbling up inside him. And that was exactly what they wanted. He breathed deeply and silently prayed for the grace to keep calm.
“I know what you are,” Alexander stated. “I cannot force you to leave, but I will not serve you either, and I will not allow you to terrorize my people any longer.”
“Is that so?” Acacia smiled, then looking up at the crowd, held up her finger: “A moment, please.”
All at once, Alexander was standing in a private room in the palace. Jace and Acacia were both lounging on couches looking at him as if he’d just played an excellent practical joke.
“Why are you here?” Jace asked. “I mean why are you really here? Is it because you want vengeance or because you cannot resist the chance to be a king?”
Alexander turned his back to them. He knew they had no interest in dialogue. They were trying to manipulate him. The more he engaged them, the more tools they would have at their disposal.
“No, no,” Acacia answered her brother. “You see, taking vengeance or reclaiming his kingdom would be handling his problems. It’s Alexander’s nature to ignore his problems and hope they go away. Just as he is ignoring us now.”
“So why do you think he is here?”
“Hhhhhmmm,” Acacia thought. “Probably guilted into it by some internal sense of duty.”
Alexander turned back to them. “I have nothing to say to you privately. Now return me to my people or I will walk back on my own.”
“Aren’t you going to ask—” Jace began.
“No,” Alexander snapped.
“Where your sister is?” Jace finished.
Alexander’s heart pounded. He desperately wanted to know this. It was bait. He wouldn’t bite.
“No,” he affirmed and began walking toward the exit.
Suddenly, he found himself stumbling backward and landed with a splash in a shallow pool of water. When his alarm wore off and he was able to orient himself, he saw that he was sitting in a fountain in the square where he began.
The place was still crowded with people, talking among themselves as they tried to make sense of events.
Alexander couldn’t believe it. The twins threw him into a fountain. He had no idea why it made him so angry. Afterall, he was expecting them to torment him, or find some round-about way of killing him. He never expected something so juvenile. Were they superior beings or spiteful little children?
A woman nearby noticed his stumble, and rushed over to offer him her hand. He couldn’t help but smile when he recognized Ilona.
“Your Kaltish assistants are looking for you,” she said as she pulled him to his feet. “They seem very upset. One of them was saying, if the gods returned you safely, he is going to kill you himself. You are really irritating the twins, you know.”
“Which twins?” Alexander asked.
“Both pairs, actually,” she grinned. “Well done!”
Alexander glanced around. The people nearby were starting to notice his reappearance and spreading word to their neighbors.
He gave Ilona’s had a little squeeze and said: “Thank you, Miss.”
She replied with a warm smile before disappearing into the crowd.
As he stepped out of the fountain, the people circled around him, all talking at once, all asking him and each other, what happened and where he’d been. Then one of them remembered he was King and knelt before him. All the others followed suit.
As Alexander stood, wet and disheveled, looking over his kneeling subjects, he turned slightly pink and remembered how much he hated being the center of attention. He forgot his humiliation, however, when Jace and Acacia appeared on either side of him. They were looking particularly smug. Acacia was tossing an apple between her hands playfully.
“Alright, Your Majesty,” Acaca sighed. “My brother and I discussed it and agreed to surrender your kingdom peacefully if—”
“I don’t need you to surrender anything,” Alexander asserted. “This kingdom never belonged to you and it isn’t yours to return to me.”
“But you do want us to leave, don’t you?” She asked sweetly.
“Absolutely,” Alexander replied.
“We will leave you all in peace, if you prove yourself worthy by passing three trials.”
“No,” Alexander returned. “Why do you keep acting like this is some kind of negotiation? I can’t make you leave, but I am not going to serve you either. Stay or go, it’s up to you.”
Jace reached out and grabbed Alexander by the sleeve. There it was. That inhuman strength and the powerlessness he felt every time he was confronted with it.
“We’ve tried to be patient with you, Alexander,” he threatened. “But I am afraid your insolence requires a firmer hand.”
“Fine, punish me!” Alexander snapped. “Call down fire from Heaven to consume me! Crush me beneath the rubble of these buildings! Send me to my God however you see fit!”
The amusement subsided from the twin’s faces. When they made no immediate response, Alexander looked at the sky with an expression of mock concern.
“Is Heaven out of fire?” He jested.
A few of the spectators chuckled. It was only then that Acacia demonstrated her superhuman strength. She crushed the apple she was holding in her fist. It exploded sending pulp flying in all directions. She jumped and looked at the sticky mess in her palm with disgust.
She drew a cloth from the air and used it to wipe her hand clean.
“I’m not omnipant or anything, but if you can materialize a cloth couldn’t you simply dematerialize the pulp?” Alexander observed.
The crowd erupted into laughter.
Jace released Alexander’s shoulder with a little shove sending him tumbling to the ground.
“Arrest him!” Acacia ordered.
Alexander leapt to his feet and looked to see if the guards were obeying. He prayed they wouldn’t. The Kalts would rush to his aid, and the last thing he wanted was Kalts and Kalatheans fighting.
He saw some approaching to his dismay. Even if he ordered the Kalts not to interfere, Filbert and Florian wouldn’t listen.
“Stop!” One of the senators shouted and rushed to block Alexander. “Did we not just acknowledge him as King?”
Alexander recognised the man. He had a C name, it was… Constans, Clemens… Clement. That was it. He had been on the Senate since the dawn of time and Alexander used to wonder if he kept getting reelected because he was especially qualified, or if it was because the people just couldn’t imagine the government without him in it.
He addressed the twins. “If you want to punish him do it yourselves!”
All the people cried out in agreement. The rest of the Senate, fearing their voters more than any kind of god, also ordered the guards to stand down.
Jace exchanged a look with his sister. She mouthed something to him and he responded with a nod.
Then, all at once, Alexander couldn’t draw breath. No one was touching him, he couldn’t feel anything in his throat, yet he couldn’t inhale.
“Is something wrong, Your Majesty?” Acacia questioned. “You look a little pale.”
Alexander looked at Jace. He was standing just behind his sister. His arms were crossed and his brow was furrowed. Alexander could see his own pain reflected in Jace’s eyes.
Jace couldn’t torment him indefinitely, relief had to be imminent. Alexander crumbled to his knees gasping unsuccessfully. Suddenly, air filled his lungs, never in his life had anything tasted so sweet. His breath left him again, as quickly as it returned.
Jace was now standing before him, releasing a string of vile insults while Acacia stood aside in pained silence. They were switching places, sharing the burden so they could continue tormenting him. Until what? Which ever one killed him would die too.
Alexander crumpled to the ground, then everything faded and he remembered no more.
Are you all caught up? Okay, you now have my permission to proceed.
(Not that you need my permission. I’m not your mom or anything. I just don’t want you to be confused.)
“Let’s play a little game,” Acacia said, a sinister smile curling on her lips.
She was in one of Kalathea’s old amphitheaters, looking out over the arena. For the first time in six hundred years, the place was packed with spectators, all looking at Acacia with eyes full of both horror and anticipation. Beside her, stood one of the kingdom’s most respected senators. In all his years of service, no one had witnessed such fear in his eyes. Jace stood just behind his sister, biting his lip to contain his giddiness.
Below, circling the area, snarling, and growling, was a pride of lions. The creatures were the victims of cruelty—scarred and bruised and emaciated. They fought among themselves, their desperation for nourishment turning them against each other.
“Look there,” said Acacia, placing one hand on the senator’s shoulder and pointing with the other to two iron gates that opened onto the arena. “Behind the first door are five villagers. I haven’t seen them myself. They might be elders or children, who knows! Behind the second is a lovely young lady, intelligent, beautiful, looking forward to a bright future. Oh yes, she’s also your daughter.”
Acacia’s grin broadened when she saw the color drain from the man’s face. “Tell me, Senator Clement, which gate should we open?”
“Neither,” was his barely audible reply.
“If you don’t choose we’ll open both,” Acacia sneered. “And you’ll have the blood of all six victims on your hands.”
Jace walked up behind the man and whispered: “Do you know what the best thing is about this, Senator? If you choose your daughter, the people will hate you for killing the villagers. But if you choose the villagers, we’ll tell everyone that you sacrificed your daughter to win their votes!” He smiled gleefully. “There’s no good outcome for you, I’m afraid. Maybe you’ll think twice before opposing us in the future?”
“Where is the Queen?” The Senator demanded. “I want to speak with her immediately.”
Acacia laughed. “Why does everyone keep asking that?”
“It really is an irrelevant question,” Jace added. “Why would you need a queen, when your gods have returned?”
This was only the most recent of the twin’s cruel games. They regularly gathered the people to witness such events. Each one involved a complex moral dilemma illustrated with the lives of random citizens.
If the people had been paying attention, they might have noticed that their new gods never killed anyone themselves. Certainly, they would threaten those who opposed them. Lightning would strike the ground immediately beside the person in question, sometimes the earth would shake, sometimes fire would surround the victim, but each time someone was actually executed, it was a human agent that carried out the order.
Not a soul among the Kalatheans knew that fairies couldn’t kill humans without killing themselves. Few mortals did. One of those mortals was in Kaltehafen, trying desperately to distract himself from the awful feeling that was nipping at his heart.
Alexander sat in the great hall, staring vacantly at his uneaten food.
“Are you thinking about your dream again?” Ilona whispered.
“Hmm?” Was Alexander’s only response.
“I thought so,” she replied. “Do you want to go talk about it?”
“I don’t know,” Alexander shrugged.
What was left to talk about? After he dreamed of his father, he asked everyone if they had any news of Kalathea. He asked Florian, the friars, the merchants he knew from his time as a candlemaker, but no one could tell him anything. How could he act on a feeling he couldn’t confirm? And even if he could confirm it, what was he supposed to do?
The last thing he heard about Kalathea, was what Eda told him the day she brought him to Kaltehafen. Jace and Acacia were still with his sister their game unfinished, their next move unclear. Something awful was happening in Kalathea. He didn’t know how he knew, he just did.
But how was it his concern? The kingdom was no longer his responsibility. As for Fausta, this was all her doing. Anything that happened to her, was her own fault.
He hardly even missed Kalathea. Well, he missed a few things, like the turquoise blue of the ocean, the warmth of the summer breeze, the history, the art, the culture, the mild winters, and access to running water. He really, really, really missed running water.
Alexander kept hoping that Brother Joseph would come to see him. Surely, he would have some news and some advice to go along with it. He hadn’t seen the old monk since his wedding and had no idea how to contact him. In his experience, fairies contacted mortals. Never the other way around.
He rubbed his forehead. He had an awful headache. It was frustrating to have a feeling that he could neither get rid of, nor do anything about. Since he wasn’t sure who to be angry with for this dilemma, he chose God by default.
He grumbled a prayer in his mind.
If there’s something You want me to do, You might be a bit more straightforward. The least You could do is send someone to help me.
In that very moment, Eda crashed through the ceiling.
She landed in a crater in the middle of the floor. The entire hall stood looking dumbstruck at the smoking hole and its crumbled occupant.
Ilona leapt over the table and ran toward the crater. Alexander followed cautiously. By the time he reached the perimeter of the newly formed pit, Ilona was already kneeling beside Eda.
Eda looked like an Amazon warrior with her ancient armor and the sword clutched in her hand. She lay with her eyes closed, battered and bloody. Alexander had never seen her look so… mortal.
“Is she alive?” He mumbled. The idea of a fairy dying shook him to the core.
“I don’t know,” Ilona started. Then Eda’s eyes shot open and she leapt to her feet. She pointed her blade toward the opening in the roof and cried:
“WHY DON’T YOU COME AND FINISH ME! WHAT’S IT TO YOU IF WE CRUSH THESE PUNY MORTALS?”
When she received no reply, she let out a maniacal laugh that put villains everywhere to shame.
“AS A THOUGHT, COWARD!”
She looked around the room at the dumbstruck spectators and declared:
“I am Eda, the Fairy of War and I—”
“Wait a moment,” Alexander interrupted. “I thought you were the Fairy of Prudence.”
“Silence!” Eda snapped. “I will not be reduced to a mere personification! I am the fairy of many things!”
“How dare you speak to—!” Ilona began, but Eda cut her off.
“Alexander, is that you?” She asked, squinting.
“Yes?” Came Alexander’s confused response.
“Ah, good! I have something critically important to tell you about Kalathea!”
“What is it?” He pleaded.
But Eda’s eyes closed and she crumpled back down in the crater and lay still. Alexander had no idea what to do, so he had Eda carried to a bed and then sent for a physician. The physician’s prognosis wasn’t hopeful.
“She’s dead,” he declared.
“Are you sure?” Alexander asked, turning white with horror.
“Well she isn’t breathing and doesn’t have a heartbeat so, yes.”
“But she’s not human, maybe…”
“I am afraid humans are all I really know,” the doctor shrugged. “I suppose you could always leave her out in the sun a couple of days and see if she starts to decay.”
Alexander turned green.
“Leave who, where?” Came Eda’s voice. She was sitting upright on the bed as though completely refreshed and ready to leave.
“Oh look at that,” the doctor marveled. “I suppose you were right.”
“Oh Alexander, you didn’t send for a human physician did you?” Eda sighed. She started dabbing her forehead with her fingers and mumbling. “Oh please tell me he didn’t drill a hole in my head.”
“Don’t be absurd,” The doctor rebuked. “I’d only do that if your blood was stagnating.”
“Of course, I sent for a doctor, you were… dead,” Alexander defended.
“What do you expect a doctor to do for a dead person?” Eda asked.
“That’s what I was wondering,” the doctor added.
Alexander opened his mouth to speak but was too confused to think of a reply. Ilona came to his rescue.
“So what can we do to help you? She asked.
“Nothing,” Eda answered. “Don’t do anything, please. I’ll heal myself.”
“Fine,” Ilona answered. “You’ll have all the time you need. Now are you going to tell me why you blew a hole in my roof?”
“Excuse me, Your Highness,” The doctor interjected. “But may I leave now? This is all completely beyond me.”
“Oh, of course,” Ilona answered. “Thank you, Doctor.”
“Ilona, perhaps we should come back later when Eda’s had a little more time to heal?” Alexander suggested.
“No!” Ilona protested. “No one smashes a hole in my roof without explaining themselves.”
“Come now, Ilona,” Alexander petitioned. “Have a little mercy, she was dead a moment ago.”
“She looks fine to me,” Ilona answered. Then turning to Eda said: “I expect you to answer all of my questions clearly and directly. No riddles. No games. No telling us we have to learn for ourselves.”
“I like you,” Eda smiled. “Of course I will explain everything, but first, there is something critical I must tell Alexander… what was it…” She rubbed her forehead thoughtfully.
“Was it about Kalathea?” Alexander asked hopefully.
“Yes!” Eda replied. “I was going to tell you… Do not to go back there under any circumstances!”
“I have the death sentence there,” Alexander reminded. “I wasn’t planning to go back.”
“Right,” Eda remembered. “But there was another reason…”
Alexander wondered what other reason he needed.
She furrowed her brow thinking. “I apologize. This was all so clear to me before I got ambushed…”
“Ambushed?” Alexander exclaimed.
“Yes,” Eda answered. “Just a moment…”
“Was it the twins?” He interjected.
Eda laughed “The twins? Really, Alexander?”
Alexander couldn’t see what was so amusing about his question.
“Oh that’s right!” Eda remembered. “We were going to help you take back your kingdom.”
“You were?” Alexander asked blanky.
“You might have told him that,” Ilona grumbled.
Eda rolled her eyes: “I thought it was obvious. Did you really think we’d make you live in Kaltehafen for the rest of your life?”
“Is there something wrong with Kaltehafen?” Ilona asked.
“In any case, none of this matters now,” Eda sighed. “We’ve gone to war, Alexander and…”
“With who?” Ilona interrupted.
“Just some rebels, it isn’t important,” Eda dismissed.
“Fairy rebels?” Alexander asked.
“No, gnome rebels,” Eda replied rolling her eyes. “Of course they are fairies! Who else would we go to war with?”
“That seems important to me,” Alexander commented. The idea of two groups of god-like beings throwing each other through buildings struck him as something humanity should know about.
“It’s no concern of yours, remember we can’t kill humans, even accidentally, without killing ourselves. Why do you think my enemy left me, after I fell through the roof?”
“So you’re using us as a shield?” Ilona scolded.
“Absolutely!” Eda replied. “It’s not hurting you, is it? And Alexander owes me a favor anyway.” She looked at Alexander. “Since this war isn’t likely to end in your lifetime, and you can’t defeat the twins on your own, you won’t be able to reclaim your throne. I’m so sorry, Alexander. You are just going to have to live out your life quietly, beekeeping or painting or whatever it is you do.”
Alexander couldn’t believe what he was hearing. A fairy telling him to forget about Kalathea and move on with his life. It was exactly the validation he was hoping for. He felt a surge of joy, and then immediately felt guilty, remembering that he was only free because the fairies were at war.
“I suppose the twins have gone away to war also?” Alexander asked hopefully.
Eda laughed. “You think those two would pick a fight with an equal? They’re children! They’ll stay in Kalathea until they lose interest in Kalathea.”
“Oh,” Alexander replied. His heart sinking.
“That’s why you must never go back, Alexander,” Eda insisted. “No matter what you hear.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Eda replied. “You can’t do anything about it, so why do you want the burden of knowing?”
“We can… pray,” Ilona replied.
Eda narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
“My sister is in Kalathea,” Alexander insisted. “If she is in some kind of danger don’t I have a right to know?”
“Human curiosity is the bane of my existence,” Eda sighed. “Fine.”
The first thing she told them, was that no one had seen Fausta in months. Then she told them of the twin’s sadistic games, and how they had set themselves up as gods over the people.
The news was like a knife in Alexander’s heart. His father’s words were true, the people were in danger. The news of his sister’s disappearance troubled him more than anything. He didn’t know why. He told himself over and over again that it was her own fault. It didn’t make him feel any better.
Alexander’s brush hovered over a blank panel. At the moment, he couldn’t remember who he was supposed to be painting on it. Maybe one of the apostles? God’s mother was always a safe bet.
He set his brush down. It was only a day since Eda’s unexpected arrival, and he couldn’t concentrate. Eda insisted he let the matter drop, but he couldn’t. He picked up his brush and tried again to focus.
“I have an idea!” Ilona proclaimed, bursting into Alexander’s workshop. He jumped, dropping his brush into a an open paint jar, speckling himself and everything around him.
Florian charged in after her. “Yes! We have an idea!” He repeated.
“About what?” Alexander asked, recovering his brush.
“About saving the Kalatheans!” Ilona exclaimed. “I’ve been thinking about it alot and it occured to me that if fairies are unable to kill humans themselves, then they are only as powerful as their human agents—”
“Take a breath, Ilona,” Alexander interrupted. “You’re turning blue.”
Ilona breathed deeply, and then continued speaking at her previous rate.
“So all we have to do is inform the people of this weakness, and then they won’t have to follow the twins anymore, and they will be free!”
“If by the human agents, you mean the entire Kalathean army, that is pretty powerful,” Alexander answered.
“Not as powerful as the Kaltic army!” Florian added gleefully.
“Exactly!” Ilona replied, bouncing up and down with excitement. “Which is why, my brothers are going to conquer Kalathea, give it back to you, and then you are going to inform the twins that the people will no longer serve them. Problem solved!”
Alexander looked at Ilona with one eyebrow raised and his mouth slightly open.
“First off,” Alexander began. “What makes you think the Kaltic army stands a chance against the Kalathean army?”
“Because,” Florian replied smuggly. “We crushed you in 368, and in 513, and in 782, and just ten years ago, Filbert and I sent your brother Justin home to his father in tears.”
“You fought my brother?” Alexander asked.
“Who didn’t?” Florian answered.
“Fair,” Alexander shrugged. “But even if the Kalts could conquer Kalathea, the only thing that could possibly make my people hate me more than they do already, is if I lead a barbarian horde against them. No, I think Eda is right.”
“Of course I am,” Eda answered, materializing right behind Alexander. He jumped, overturning a jar of green paint. This was the first time Eda had left her room since she crashed in. She didn’t look improved. She was battered and pail and judging by her expression, irritable. Alexander worried that she would drop over dead again. Even if she wasn’t actually dead, he didn’t want it to happen. It was alarming.
“You cannot fight them,” Eda insisted. “They’re your superiors in power and intelligence. They may not be able to kill you directly, but oppose them and they will have their vengeance.”
“There you have it,” Alexander answered, looking for a rag to wipe up the puddle of green.
“We cannot abandon your people, Alexander,” Ilona insisted. “If there is even a small chance that we could be successful, we have to take it!”
“Exactly!” Florian agreed. “We will storm Kalathea and free the people or die trying!”
“How noble of you,” Eda commented dryly. “Noble and stupid.”
“Is that any way to speak to a king?” Florian snapped.
“Not your prefered way, I’m sure,” Eda answered. “But I’ve said worse to greater kings.”
“Why you insolent little—” Florian started and continued with a string of threats and insults that only fed the amusement in Eda’s eyes.
As Alexander mopped up the puddle of green, he listened for Ilona to join the argument. This was usually what happened whenever Florian started ranting. Ilona would intervene, and the situation would escalate, and once they had a good fight, they would calm down and Alexander could lead them in a respectable discussion.
But Ilona didn’t say a word. Alexander stood, holding the sopping green rag in his hand and looked at her curiously.
She was lost in thought.
“…In all my thousand years, I’ve never heard that word used that way,” Eda was saying to Florian. “I admire your creativity.”
Before Florian could produce a fresh wave of insults, Ilona spoke.
“I have another idea,” she interjected suddenly, and the attention of all turned to her.
Even Eda couldn’t deny that Ilona’s idea had a chance of being successful. A very small one, she noted, before telling them again that they were mad for even trying.
Alexander believed it could work.
Ilona discussed her idea with him late into the evening. He listened mostly, weighing their chances of success in his mind. He told her he needed time to think, and when she went to bed, he lingered behind, wandering the castle corridors as he struggled with something he hadn’t said.
He didn’t want to do it.
If he proceeded with the plan, he risked losing everything. And even if they were successful, then he would have to be king again which was almost like losing everything.
But the suffering of the people weighed on his heart. He was the last heir of Kalathea, how could he abandon them? Then his mind wandered back to the night of Justin’s murder. He remembered how the people swarmed around him and beat him and tore at him and called for his head.
He remembered standing before the Senate, searching the crowd for one kind face and finding none. He remembered how Fausta avoided his every attempt to catch her eye. He never felt so loathed and so alone.
He didn’t care if Kalathea burned.
He started back toward his room. In the morning, he would tell Ilona he was going to take Eda’s advice, and forget the whole thing. He felt a knot in his stomach. She wouldn’t like it. He didn’t completely like it himself. He tried to ignore his dissatisfaction but the tugging on his heart grew stronger the closer he came to his room.
It was inescapable, relentless. He became angry.
What do you want me to do? He thought. None of this is my concern!
He stormed into his room. He saw a lump of blankets that had once been Ilona. He didn’t worry about waking her. Nothing could wake her once she was asleep.
He took the knife off his belt and started looking for the little chest where he usually kept it. The chest was always in the same place, and Alexander would have spotted it in an instant if he hadn’t been tangled in his thoughts.
What kind of a fool would I have to be to risk my own happiness for the people who tried to kill me?
He found the chest, and tossed his knife in. The sound of it knocking against something pulled Alexander back to reality. He withdrew the second item.
It was Brother Joseph’s gift, the worn wooden crucifix. It was then he realized exactly what sort of fool would do something like that.
He clutched it in his hand, and sinking to the floor, buried his face in his knees. He stopped rationalizing with himself. He knew what he had to do. He’d always known.
In his heart, he accepted his mission. All at once the tugging ceased and at last he was at peace with himself. No less angry about what happened in his past, no less afraid of what was going to happen in the future, but now he had a clear path he was determined to follow no matter what.
In the weeks that followed, Alexander worked closely with Ilona and Florian to set their plan in motion. He couldn’t remember ever seeing the siblings so excited. Their every interaction was filled with lively chatter as if Christmas was coming and they weren’t all about to die.
Eda on the other hand, was not happy and made communicating this her life’s mission. She would appear at random during their preparations and try to talk them out of it, saying things like: “Why don’t you just fling yourselves off the outer wall? It would be a more efficient and less painful.”
She was recovering, as far as Alexander could see. He wasn’t sure if her visible wounds were real, or if she was just manifesting her injuries in a way that humans could comprehend. Fairies were a such a puzzle.
The more she recovered, the more short tempered and out of sorts she became. Alexander wondered if the war was weighing on her mind. He wished he could do something for her, but helping his own kind was challenge enough. He wouldn’t have any idea how to start with a fairy.
Late one afternoon, he returned to his room in search of a book. He was hoping to finish it before he marched off to certain death. If things went according to plan, that would be in about a month’s time. He found Ilona lying on the bed, sound asleep. He thought it odd that she was asleep so early, and fully clothed, and on top of the covers.
When he approached to check on her, he was alarmed to find her breathing faint and her heartbeat so soft and slow, he could barely find it at all. He tried desperately to wake her and was about to call for help, when someone spoke.
“She’s alright, Alexander. I’ve just put her in an enchanted sleep.”
He looked up to see Eda standing between himself and the door.
“I am about to do the same to you.”
“What? Why?” Alexander cried.
“Since you are intent on going to Kalathea with or without my help, I am going to put you to sleep until the war is over. Now I recommend you lie down, I don’t want you to collapse and hit your head on something.”
“But what about her brothers? If this war is going to last as long as you think, they’ll be dead when we wake. She’ll be heart broken.”
“So I’ll put them to sleep also,” Eda shrugged. “I’ll put this whole damn kingdom to sleep if it will make you happy, you’re not going back to Kalathea without me.”
She took a step forward and Alexander took a step back. He didn’t know why, once she decided to knock him out, it wouldn’t matter where in the room he was.
“Wait, please!” Alexander protested. “Isn’t this my choice to make?”
“Certainly,” Eda replied. “And knocking you out is my choice to make. It’s called free will, kid.”
“Did the High Council approve this?” Alexander questioned.
Eda laughed. “If I asked them to approve everything I did, I’d never get anything done.”
“Would they approve it, if they knew?”
Eda’s lips tightened.
“What, what about Alika and Brother Joseph, would they agree to this?”
“They aren’t here to offer their opinion,” Eda replied.
“So now you’re rebeling,” Alexander accused. “Just like Jace and Acacia and… whoever it is you’re fighting.”
“I don’t need a mortal lecturing me about the error of my ways,” Eda responded flatly. “It’s demeaning.”
“What makes me so important!” Alexander snapped. “Is my life worth more than all the Kalathean’s who will die while I am trapped here?”
Eda paused. Her eyes became glassy.
“No, Alexander. Your life isn’t worth more than theirs. It’s just… of all the people I’ve been assigned…” She blinked until her eyes cleared and sighed. “I like you, Alexander and I want you to live.”
Alexander softened. “Is your purpose to keep me alive or to help me do what’s right?”
Eda glared at him, but gave no answer. He noticed a tear on her cheek, before she turned her face away.
“To be completely honest,” Alexander continued. “I don’t want to do this either. I’m terrified. Terrified of dying and even more terrified of living as a king. Everything in me wants to abandon this mission. Please, Eda. I need someone to help me do what’s right.”
Eda wiped her eye with her wrist and grumbled: “I hate my job.”
“If it’s any consolation,” Alexander answered. “I hate mine too.”
The corner of Eda’s lip turned up very slightly.
“Go kiss your wife,” she ordered. When she saw Alexander’s confused expression, she added: “It will wake her up.”
“Oh…” Alexander answered. He wanted to question this, but didn’t think it was the appropriate time. Instead he shrugged and said: “Of course it will.”
He started back for Ilona.
“Oh, Alexander,” Eda said. “Don’t lose hope. No matter what happens, remember we will be coming for you as soon as we can.”
“Thank you,” he replied.
Alexander knelt down beside the bed, but as he leaned in to kiss Ilona, he paused and looked up at Eda with a horrified expression.
“How were you planning on waking me up?” He asked.
Eda snickered. “I like you, kid. But not that much. Same way I do any magic, by willing it.”
The Fables of Para Sympan 