Chapter 36: Back to Faerie

Bright and early the next day, Wil had breakfast, kissed Darlene goodbye, and flew up the mountain with Isom at his side. Going back to Faerie was a treat, but he couldn’t help but worry that going in and asking for a favor might be tacky or rude. They may have liked him there, but there were limits and he didn’t want to cross them.

Finally, an excuse to run and possibly do violence! Isom ran just behind him, occasionally jumping into the air and disappearing, only to reappear several feet ahead and keep going. Together they wove in and out of the trees, making a game of it. With as busy as Wil had been, the wampus cat would finally get a chance to alleviate his boredom.

If it’s still a week in there to a day out here, maybe we’ll get a chance to go hunting together. As much as Wil didn’t care for senseless violence, he’d never deny his companion’s need for the fresh meat and the thrill of the kill.

Isom said nothing back but put on a burst of speed, leaping straight into the air. He blinked out of existence and reappeared twenty feet in the air, scrabbling to climb over a rock jutting out over the path higher up. Wil took his time and careened around rocks and trees. Now that he’d gotten used to it, his Thunderhawk controlled like a dream.

The rest of the ride up the mountain was relaxing, until he sensed Isom’s excitement and alarm. That’s when Wil remembered the security at the rift, and how they’d react without him to vouch for Isom’s behavior. He put on a burst of speed.

When he arrived at the peak, Isom had the fae panicked. Some ran after him, but most ran the other way. Wil drove by, mentally commanding Isom to not hurt anyone. For the fae he conjured a ball of light and sent it floating to the center of the clearing. It hung in the air before it exploded in a silent flash of searing light.

“Stop!” Wil cried out in a boosted voice that echoed off the sides of the mountain. “He’s with me, and we’re not going to hurt anyone.”

The nearest fae was a troll in petrified bark armor. He glowered at Isom before turning to Wil. Isom, for his part, looked about as gleeful as any cat causing trouble.

“This wampus cat is yours?” the troll demanded.

Wil got off his Thunderhawk, hands raised up to show he wasn’t a thread. His staff remained in the Thunderhawk’s compartment, and he saw no reason to bring it out. “He is. He’s a mischievous little jerk, but he’s bound to obey me. He won’t hurt anyone unless they hurt him first. He thinks if he baits someone into starting a fight, he can have fun. Isn’t that right?”

Isom declined to speak, instead stretching out his body, digging his claws into the dirt. He looked unconcerned.

“You’re here to go to Faerie?” the troll asked. Wil nodded. “Then make sure you keep him close. The guards around Oakheart Spiral are less understanding than I.” He growled at Isom and knucklewalked back to his post.

All around the clearing, the fae recovered and went about their day, although the guards kept a close eye on them. They knew in advance he would be coming with a companion, but even knowing it was coming didn’t prepare one for a rampaging predator. Wil snapped his fingers and pointed to the ground near him. Isom trotted over to him without a care in the world.

“Stick with me, and don’t threaten anyone for Pete’s sakes.”

“Who’s Pete?” Isom tilted his head to the side.

Wil got back on the Thunderhawk and they went through the rift in a mushroom ring at a relaxed pace. More than anything, he was grateful that the rift was nothing like going through portals. One second they were in Harper Valley, the next Oakheart Spiral loomed over them. The air was rich with magic, and Wil drank it in, already feeling himself buzz with power.

The last time he’d been there, the leader of the ogres had thousands of troops ready to mobilize for war. It had been part of a combination of plots trying to escalate both sides to war, narrowly avoided. Now the plains around the great tree had signs of human settlement. The Calipanian Embassy, if Wil had to guess. He stopped by there first, and Isom ran joyfully around his old home.

He carefully parked the Thunderhawk in a stable housing horses, small dogs, and a big, broadsnouted lizard. After grabbing his staff, Wil stepped out of the final open stall and looked to the nearest elven attendant. She was short, and had silvery hair and sharp features awash in curiosity. “Is it alright if I leave this here while I meet the council? This is for visiting diplomats, right?”

The elf girl nodded. “It is!” she said in a delightfully squeaky voice. “Do you want us to wash it or do anything special to it?”

Wil shook his head. “Just don’t let anyone touch it or take it out. Tha- it’s appreciated.” Four months of not having to watch his language and he almost put himself in debt to the first person he saw. He chuckled and wandered out, whistling for Isom to join him.

The rest of the embassy area looked like standard Fae construction, but more closed off and less open and airy. It was one of many differences between their people, and Wil always liked seeing how they could offer consideration for the other. He raised a hand in greeting to a couple of fauns chatting outside the main building. They smiled at him and waved enthusiastically.

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Isom came and fell into step behind him. He looked around with his one good eye, getting a look at everybody. His tail flickered behind him.

“Too loud?” Wil asked.

“Not at all,” Isom purred. “I can’t hear the thoughts of fae. Excellent!”

“Excellent? I thought you liked listening in and violating others’ privacy?”

“This means I am now perfectly built to hunt humans for prey,” Isom boasted. “It might be my calling now. Are you sure I can’t eat anyone?”

“I’ve made myself clear by now. Only if they attack one of us physically or magically, or someone trespasses. Even then, disable them and I’ll decide if you can eat them or not. For now, stay close.” Wil put a hand on the back of Isom’s neck affectionately.

It took half an hour to enter the capital. Flying would’ve been faster, but it was better not to bring a machine made of steel and iron to the fae capital. Besides, Wil enjoyed the chance to walk up to the tree and soak in how tiny it made him feel. The top stretched up past the clouds, with only a few branches visible before disappearing into tufts of white and gray. There were balconies and homes built right into the side of the tree, spiraling upward. Wil magically enhanced his vision and peered into an open window, where an ogre and a dryad were locked in heated debate of some kind. There were an endless amount of interesting sights, and Wil promised himself he’d linger the full week if he could.

Isom’s warning growl brought him back to earth. Wil dismissed the spell and looked down in time to stop walking before he crashed into the last person in line to get in. It was a young gnome woman, looking up at him suspiciously.

“What’s your story?” she said in a high pitched voice. Her eyes drifted down to the wampus cat.

“Here to meet with the council,” said Wil. “I have a favor to ask them.”

“Oh, is that all?” she scoffed. “You might be waiting for a while. Traffic going in is worse than it’s ever been. All because you humans are coming by.”

Wil and Isom shared an amused look. “I feel pretty responsible about that,” Wil admitted, “but that ship has sailed. Maybe things will get better in time.”

“Hmph.”

She spent the rest of the time ignoring him. Every minute or so, they moved a few steps forward until they were in the shade, where a breeze sent a bracing chill down his back. It felt like the end of winter and the start of spring. After Harper Valley’s blistering summers, it was a much desired change. Finally, they came up to the security up front inspecting every party and pack.

“You,” said a hobgoblin as he pointed a short spear at Wil. “You’re the wizard we were waiting for.”

“That’s me,” said Wil. “Hello. I believe I’m expected in the council chambers?”

The hobgoblin’s cheeks puffed up and back down. “You are. If you’ll come this way…” his eyes flitted to Isom.

Wil nudged his cat and they followed after the squat man, cutting past several groups slowly making their way to the open center of the tree. As much as he wanted to stop and gawk, he followed their guide past locked doors, and down a curving flight of stairs to a basement. “In here, behave, you know the drill.”

The portal waited for them, swirling chaotically. Wil took a long, deep breath and ran through. That familiar sensation of being stretched over the course of a couple of miles threatened to overwhelm him, but holding his breath helped. He managed to avoid screaming when he came out the other end, into the familiar council chambers.

It was exactly as he remembered. A recessed center was ringed by five thrones, and seating for an audience behind him. Only two of the seats were occupied, but Wil had expected at least Skalet to be missing from the meeting. Arabella, the beautiful but haughty elf princess, lounged in her throne. A few feet away, he recognized Syl’s father from a memory the faun had shared with him.

King Martinus the Silenus greatly resembled his son, save for his big belly, extra body hair, and golden ring through his right nipple. Syl tended to wear some amount of clothing, while his father had vines and plants protecting his modesty: an impossible task. He too lounged on the throne, putting on an unfortunate show. Wil wasn’t sure he wanted to know if it was intentional or not.

“Greetings, honored council,” said Wil, bowing his head respectfully. “And a great pleasure to meet you, King Martinus. I count your son among my closest friends.”

Martinus raised up, laughing right from the belly. “I’d expect nothing less from my boy. He’s got a good heart, and wants to be everyone’s friend. He has yet to understand that not everyone can be.”

Thinking back to the beating Syl received at the hands of the former sheriff, Wil shook his head. “No, he understands that now. And he still chooses friendship first. You should be proud of him.”

“I am,” said the fat satyr. “Every day.”

“Hello Princess,” Wil said, turning to Arabella. “Have you got tired of my brother yet?”

The smirk on her face could only be described as scandalous. “He’s fine when he’s not talking. Luckily, I can find plenty of use for his mo --”

“Nevermind, don’t want to know,” said Wil, winking at her. They shared a laugh, and he treasured seeing a glimpse of the real Arabella when she dropped her guard. She wasn’t always the brat she pretended to be. “Has Gallath been well? Who have the Wee Folk chosen to replace Timothy Twist?”

“Gallath is busy today,” said Arabella with a sigh, “but we’ve gotten a lot done over the last year.”

“Only one year?” Wil cocked his head to the side.

“We’ve sped up our flow of time,” King Martinus said. “If we’re going to deal with humans, we can’t be advancing seven times as fast. We’re down to twice as much time passing.”

“Damn,” said Wil, “I was looking forward to lingering here, if I am welcome.”

“Of course you’re welcome here,” Arabella made a face. “I imagine you’ll want to have dinner with Jebediah soon.”

“If I have to,” said Wil, and they laughed again. “I’d like that. I’d love to make this mostly a social call, but I’m afraid I am here for a request.”

“Of course you do,” said Martinus. “But that can wait until the rest of the council is here. It must wait until the rest of the council is assembled.”

“I see,” said Wil. “That makes sense. How long will that be?”

King Martinus stood and stretched. “Tomorrow. For now, I think I’d like to spend some time with you. Pick your brain about things.”

“What about food?” Isom piped up. Wil had nearly forgotten he was there, but chuckled at his predictably one track mind.

“That’s a good point,” said Martinus. “FOOD! NOW!” He clapped his hands twice, and servants burst into the room, carrying with them a feast.