Natalie Yacobson - Tamlane – Prisoner of the queen of the fairies

«Here, ma’am,» the young man handed her not colored ribbons but some sort of jars. He did not appear to be a peddler, but a druggist. So she had mistaken the young man for Quentin.

«Will that be enough for one unruly mind?» The lady inquired, peering at what appeared to be living worms inside the vials.

«It is more than enough!» The young man bowed.

«You said it the last time too,» the lady scolded him.

«But this potion is stronger. And if it isn’t, you’ll have to work it out for yourself, and it’ll cost him his head.»

«I’ll trust you one last time! Off you go!»

The young man bowed again.

Janet bent down to pick up a coin that looked like a living disc of sunshine rolling right at her feet. The coin did not burn her fingers, though it seemed a real flame. The face on the tail winked at its new mistress. Or did it just seem that way?

Janet looked out at the square and saw no one else in it. No lady, no groomsmen, no footmen with monstrous bodies. The square was empty. On the stones of the sidewalk, where the train of fire stretched, there was no ashy trace of the recent burning, either.

Could it be that her visit to the fortuneteller had influenced Janet in such a way that she began to see strange things? The girl stepped into the empty square. Somewhere there should be a carriage waiting to take her back home, but there wasn’t. Janet walked through the empty square and turned nervously at every sound. Sometimes she thought she heard someone calling her name.

Suddenly she bumped right into Quentin. He was there all of a sudden, like an elf popping out of a snuffbox. A second ago the square was empty. And now he was standing right in front of her. There was a teasing grin on his face. And his box was gone.

Janet stared at him, not immediately startled when she heard a noise behind her. A carriage was hurtling across the square toward them.

«Look out!» Quentin covered her as the gilded carriage raced past.

«There are two great frogs instead of grooms,» said Janet, stammering. It seemed to her, somehow, that Quentin could confess everything she’d seen. «Tell me, did you see it, too?»

Quentin was strangely silent. The freckles on his face blazed with the fire of shame. He even shuffled unsteadily from foot to foot. Janet noticed how unusual his shoes were: they had upward-curved toes, buckles shaped like crescents of the month, and bright green leather inserts, as if they were frogs’! What an absurd suggestion!

«There are some things you’d better not talk about with your tongue, or you might end up with no tongue at all,» muttered the young man. «And no head, either.»

He drew a meaningful line down his throat with his finger. It reminded Janet of a ball that seemed like someone’s head had been lifted off his shoulders.

«Talking about inscrutable things is unnecessary,» he added with a touch of bravado. «You’d better not fill your head with silly thoughts. But I have something to give the beautiful lady.»

He plucked a sparkling necklace out of his sleeve. It had two pendants in the shape of a crescent moon and a sun. It’s doubtful that the necklace was made of real gold, most likely of cheap yellow copper, but Janet liked it. Quentin put it in her hand.

«Another rarity from the famous pedlar,» Janet smiled.

«To protect you from her!» uttered Quentin, suddenly becoming serious for a moment. The mischievous twinkle in his eyes faded, replaced by a pensive expression.

«Does it protect me from whom?» Janet didn’t understand.

The boy moved backward instead of answering. The moonlight flickered across his face, and suddenly Quentin’s figure multiplied, as in a mirror with many compartments. He seemed to be standing both right and left, front and back. His monotonous figures, created by the moonlight, danced around her.

Janet looked here and there, trying to distinguish the true young man from the multitude of doppelgangers. Suddenly they were all gone. The girl looked around in vain for the boy, who was no longer there. Again all she could see was the empty, dark square. And the jewel was still clutched in her palm. Quentin hadn’t even charged her for the necklace.

It would soon begin to dawn. In the distance, a bright streak appeared in the dark sky. That means, over the city, the sun is rising. Eternal night has not filled it forever. The spellbound people began to lazily wake up. Would they remember that they had been forcibly put to sleep, or was there a lapse in their memory?

Janet wondered why she hadn’t fallen asleep with them all. The guards were the first to regain consciousness, and they began to stand up, their armor rattling. Probably the guards that her father had sent to escort Janet had awakened somewhere. She must fetch Nyssa from the fortuneteller’s house. Perhaps they could both make it home by noon.

Janet had a dream. She was walking through the woods. A creature was beckoning her into the thicket. It wore a mask of golden leaves, and behind it moved transparent green wings. Was it not an elf? He turned around and then disappeared around the bend in the path. Janet had to run to keep up with him. The forest around her grew darker and darker. The trail broke off, and the girl had to hack her way through the thicket. The thorns clung to her train, but she moved on anyway. Somewhere ahead she could hear clatter of hooves, as if a cavalry party was galloping this way. So there was a road nearby. There was no way a cavalry could have ridden through the thicket.

The branches scratched Janet’s hands. The birdsong suddenly stopped. A gnome ran right under her feet. He was in a great hurry.

«Her knights are coming!» He turned around and shouted to Janet as if it meant something to her. «The time of sacrifice is coming, now that they are here.»

Janet didn’t understand him at all. What knights? What sacrifice? No sacrifices have been made in the woods since the days of the pagan gods. And they had been here so long it seemed legendary. Maybe he was confused about something.

She looked around, but saw no more of the elf in the golden mask. The dwarf had disappeared from view, too. And the clatter of hooves sounded quite close. Janet did see the galloping knights. But the road on which they rode, she could not see, as if the horses were treading on air, not on the driftwood. Suddenly the ground trembled beneath her feet. Thorns clung to her dress, and the knights rode past on their horses and paid no attention to her cries for help, as if she was in a looking glass from them. Or did they simply not care that another victim was dying in the woods? The ground began to suck her down like a viscous swamp, and one of the knights suddenly turned to look at her. His eyes were familiar to her: blue with golden speckles. She knew him and remembered the dragon-head helmet well.

Janet woke up in a cold sweat. Someone had just knocked on her window. The knock must have woken her up. It was quiet but insistent. At first she thought it was rain drumming on the glass, but the sky was clear. The moon shone with a measured pale light.

«Let me in, Janet,» it was Quentin’s voice. There he was, himself, outside the window, or rather, just his red head. «You don’t want the sentries to shoot me. They have very formidable crossbows. I can see it from here.»

How the hell did he get up that high? And what does he want? He may have remembered that he gave her the bracelet and the necklace for free, and now he comes to the castle to ask for money. Would it not have been wiser in this case to come in the afternoon and contact to her father. Another salesman who had contacted the Earl’s daughter would have done so, but Quentin was different. The guy was out of this world! Blessed! Janet felt sorry for him, and hurried to the window. She didn’t even have time to put on her negligee. Good thing her nightgown had a high neck and puffy sleeves. Quentin had nothing to stare at.