The Fae who entered had not only brought us a generous selection of deliciousness, but clean clothes and other personal provisions. I practically jumped up and down when I saw the hanging rack with four dresses and several pairs of jeans and tees, all in my size. There were also shoes and boots for me. It was Christmas in Faeryland, or at least it seemed like it.
Our meal, shower, and clothing exploits occurred swiftly, and we were soon speeding out the door. I had a baby dragon to locate; plus we needed to make sure that the guys were all okay. Had they received the same bounty we had of clothing, proper rooms, and food?
Timothy remembered his way among the hallways and mirrors, which all looked identical to me. I just passed along in his wake, my hand steadily fixed to his, my smiles of anticipation wide. We found everyone in the huge chamber where we’d gone the day before. The two werewolves, both gnawing contentedly on some kind of meat, Ben beside Queen Moragana looking slightly ill at ease as if his seating arrangement might not have been his favorite, and Daniel who was sitting across from him with my cute, little dragon in his lap.
I let go of the hand I was holding and ran to greet my adopted dragon. Garpon, the dragon said while he was nuzzling my hair. My name is Garpon. I did not like being separated from you, but this thunder god/bird fed me well.
Had the dragon actually spoken to me before? No, I remembered that Daniel had been forced to translate the odd sounds the baby had been making.
“You learned how to talk to me!” I said, laughing with the joy of it.
Garpon’s long purple tongue lathed at my face. Of course I can speak to you now. You are my mother, he informed me.
I wasn’t crazy about the face washing, but the fact that we could communicate was splendiferous.
Of course, after another moment, I checked that our crew were each okay. Smiles were exchanged, a few words of reassurance given, but I noticed that none of them seemed overly enthusiastic about Faeryland. Yet, they seemed okay. All of them were wearing clean clothes, and they had plates before them that showed the remnants of their meals, although the two werewolves still had piles more to chew on.
Timothy brought me a chair at that moment, which provoked the queen into frown lines and a sharp voice. “You must remember, Cadarone, that you are a prince and not a servant,” she snapped at him. Then she clicked her fingers, gave an order, and another chair was quickly brought over for Timothy. My sweet husband pushed it close and sat down beside me.
****
Throughout that first day, members of the queen’s court strolled in and out, meeting with us, and kissing my hands (whenever they could catch them.) Due to the number of them, their faces blurred, along with their names, except for one.
He practically oozed slime, although, at least he wasn’t one of the ones who cared about kissing my hand. Instead, he glued himself beside the queen, flirting with her with a nauseating tenacity.
Count Harland had good looks, an ingratiating smile, and general air of cunning that hit me like the sour wind from a speeding semi-truck. He absolutely felt WRONG.
I had once been good at figuring out people’s approaches and intentions, but this reaction of mine to Lord Harland was not like any intuition I’d ever encountered. My barely suppressed awareness of his foulness was like a warning light, blaring fixedly red. He twisted my stomach, sent creepy-crawlies all over my skin, and made me want to crawl under the bed in my chamber and hide.
If only I had listened more to my feelings, my premonition, perhaps, it might have prevented the whole debacle that came after that first meeting with the Fae. It might have avoided the calamity that befell us thereafter, which was so much worse than my kidnapping by Queen Beatrice . . . It was, to quote my former roommate, “The absolute, despicable pits!”
To be continued in Book 3 of the Wonderland Series:
The Pooka, His Wife, and a Dragon Named Garpon
(beginning immediately after Book 2 of the Shama Series:
Witchly Trials and Complications)