Alain slumped down before her, cross legged, head bowed. He was the vision of defeat.

“Well?” asked Bridgette.

“I’ll tell you what I can,” said Alain. “But there are limitations too dangerous even for me. I cannot reveal the truename of any other actor. Death would be easy in comparison to that punishment.”

Bridgette nodded. “We’ll see about that. Where am I?”

“Shard,” Alain said.

“I know that!” Bridgette shouted. “What is Shard?”

“A stage,” said Alain. “We come up with a story, with rules, and we perform. Often we do this by ourselves, but once in a while, we bring in an Earthling. These are special stories where we get to play off one of your kind.”

“What’s the Dream Chest?” asked Bridgette,

“A conduit,” said Alain. “It is simply a door to bring an Earthling here to play with us.”

“And who is us?” she asked pointedly.

Alain looked uncomfortable.

“Well?” Bridgette repeated, harshly.

“I- I don’t know!” said Alain. “But I think Earthlings sometimes call us Fae.”

“Fae? Like little faeries? You have wings and sit on mushrooms?”

“No,” said Alain. “But- our rules are different. You have emotions and agency. We- it feels good. To sit so near to you when you’re angry or in love. It fills me. It fills us. I can’t tell you how warm your love made me. I haven’t felt like that since- since ever.”

“How old are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Really! Shakespeare was only-”

“I wasn’t born then,” said Alain. “That was just the role I am best known for. My most famous. That’s how it became” his voice hushed to a whisper: “my name.”

“Who were you before?”

“I don’t remember. No one does. Some story, lost to time.”

“And Bickle Wa?”

“He- he’s older than any of us. The oldest. The most powerful. Bridgette, Bickle could ban me from the story, like he did with Michael. Then where would I be? Floating through the void for millions of years, until I luck into a role in some other story?”

“You’re the hero,” said Bridgette, angry. “Why does Bickle scare the hero?”

“We’re not measured by the roles you see!” answered Alain. “Imagine…. Imagine a theater. There’s a man who owns the theater. He picks the plays the company will perform. He directs the show. And he pays the staff. And for his amusement, he decides he wants a tiny part, just a few lines to open up the show. Some nothing character that is onstage for less than a minute. The audience thinks he’s a bit player, but backstage, he’s the most powerful man in the company. Other actors have leading parts- the hero, the villain, the maiden. But backstage, they’re just actors hired and fired by the owner. Do you see?”

Bridgette was starting to. “It’s all a giant game to you.”

“Isn’t a game what you came to play in the first place?”

“Is the Scarlet Tempest an evil person?”

“The role she plays is.”

“But she’s just an actress. Just like you, right? Playing the part for the fun of it?”

Alain nodded slowly.

“And Michael Darling?”

Alain leaned back, a lost look on his face. “I don’t know how that works,” he said. “Many Earthlings go back home. But some stay. They stay with us forever. Michael must have stayed, and made a deal to come to our story.”

“But he was an Earthling! He wasn’t one of you.”

“He was becoming one of us.”

Bridgette frowned. “An Earthling who stays long enough becomes a Fae?”

Alain thought about it. “I think so. I’m not sure.”

“Were you all Earthlings who became trapped? Were you an Earthling once, Alain?”

A fog passed over the features of the exiled prince. “I don’t remember.”

“Rosie,” whispered Bridgette. She stared into the darkness, realizing what would happen to her. Looking back at Alain, she said again: “And if I stay, I’ll become a Fae too?”

“You could,” admitted Alain. “Is that what you want?”

“Absolutely not! How do I get back home?”

“I don’t know,” said Alain. “You did it twice. Earthlings usually have a chance at the ending. Often there’s a choice to return or stay.”

“And what’s going on with Rosie?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Sometimes Earthlings come in as a couple, or a group. But it’s not often they come at different times, from different entry points.”

Bridgette sat down in a funk, crossing her arms, frustrated beyond reckon. “You like it when Earthlings stay, don’t you?”

“You’re very special to us,” said Alain. “You have emotions, reason, agency, passion. Everything we lack and envy. Will you kiss me, my love?”

“Don’t touch me!” shouted Bridgette. Alain froze. “I don’t know who or what you are! I always wanted to fall in love with a man. You’re not a man. You’re something else.”

Alain backed away, utterly confused. “I don’t- I didn’t mean to- have I done something wrong?”

Bridgette sighed heavily. “You’re an actor, and this is the best you can do. Fine. I got that. I get it. We need to get to the end of the story. And I suppose it will take a confrontation with the Scarlet Tempest?”

“That’s right,” Alain nodded. “Win or lose, it will be the end.”

“Win or lose, it will be the end,” Bridgette agreed. “How do we get there?”

“I have a meeting set up in Siram Port,” said Alain. “He’s the chancellor to the Scarlet Tempest.”

“The cat?” asked Bridgette.

Alain nodded. “Yes. He is chancellor Sniggums, the assistant to the Scarlet Tempest. Some say he holds a grudge against the Queen, and will sell her out for the right price.”

“Who is he?” asked Bridgette.

“He is the chancellor-”

“Who is he really?”

Swallowing nervously, Alain answered. “A very powerful Fae,” he whispered. “Number two to Bickle Wa himself. Some say even more powerful, but he bides his time with the Sorceress, he bides his time with Bickle. But for what purpose, no one knows.”

Bridgette leaned back, her head spinning, imagining an acting troupe where the leads lived in terror to those who played supporting roles. “Fine,” she said. “Let’s get this over with, so I can go home- and hopefully with Rosie too.” As angry as she was at Rose, she couldn’t imagine leaving anyone, even her worst enemy, here in Shard to become one of these… things.

The rest of the trip was uneventful. Bridgette feigned sleep, but kept an eye on Alain. He watched her for a while, a mystified uncertainty on his face. Never had she seen the dashing prince look afraid. And he feared her, not the Scarlet Tempest with her magical charms. She may have left the jail cell, but she was still in prison. Fortunately, now she could see the walls, and hopefully pass through them.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

The ship docked, and Alain made the Captain promise to find a casket for Michael Darling. How she would get it to Earth, she didn’t know. Alain guided her by the hand through the town of Siram Port. They had no time to find her new clothes, and she squirmed at the idea of the denizens spotting her in the ridiculous burlap rags. Fortunately, Alain led her through back streets with few people, and she was grateful to avoid most of the town. Surely it would have been a wonderful place to see- close to the Ruby Castle with all the trade and wealth and taxes that came its way. But she no longer cared. She had lost her appetite of sight-seeing, and wanted to get to the end of this adventure, one way or the other.

Finally Alain guided her to a well-to-do house in the affluent part of town. He knocked on the door, and a serving boy opened, staring up at Alain with wide eyes.

“May I help you, mi’lord?”

“Tell your master that I have arrived. He’ll know who.”

“Bring them in boy! Don’t keep us waiting.”

The boy backed away. Behind them, Bridgette recognized the little cat. He was scarcely taller than Bickle Wa, standing on his rear paws with a short cane in his hands. He wore expensive clothes in radiant reds and blues. She hadn’t see him too closely when he was on stage with the Scarlet Tempest, all the way back in Llewes. He was definitely a cat, with furry cheeks, ears on the top of his head, and whiskers on both sides of his pink nose. But something about him reminded Bridgette of rodents, not cats.

“Chancellor Sniggums, at your services,” he said, taking off his magnificent hat and giving an exaggerated bow. He straightened and replaced his hat, resting behind his pointed ears.

“Puss in Boots,” said Bridgette, making a wild guess. Sniggums recognized it at once.

“No,” he said, with a glitter in the tall, narrow pupils of his eyes. “A rather obvious guess. Shall I make a guess as to your name?”

“I’m not one of you. You won’t control me with my name.”

“I won’t? We shall see, we shall see. But come on in. Talking in the foyer like this is uncomfortable, and the boy will find you something to drink.”

He led them inside to a sitting room with plush couches, an oversized easy chair, and a polished, wooden coffee table. The boy soon brought three cups of steaming tea with lemon.

“This smells delicious,” says Bridgette.

“Drink!” said Sniggums. “Enjoy! You too, lost Prince.”

Alain and Sniggums both drank, with Bridgette joining them last. Sniggums looked from her to her companion, apparently deciding which conversation he would enjoy first and best. The intensity of her stare gave Sniggums the impression that he would have an easier time with Alain.

“So,” he began. “I suppose you would appreciate my help in overthrowing my liege- the most dangerous Sorceress in the world.”

“That’s right,” said Alain.

“By doing so,” continued the cat, “You will become King. And you realize how dangerous this whole task is to me. If we fail, my life will be forfeit. So I need to know that helping you is not only likely to succeed, but that it is worth the gamble.”

“Of course,” said Alain.

“How do you intend to do it?”

“How do you intend to help me?”

The cat smiled. “You want me to provide you with your plan? Very well. The Ruby Castle is riddled with secret entrances and passageways. I should know; I installed them myself. Your father, old King Astadius Trueheart, had many enemies. He feared that someday enemies would storm the castle walls, or that a conspiracy would creep its way into his throne room to seek his life. He wanted to always have one way out. So we built a panel in the throne room that opens to a passageway. This leads to a hallway with a ladder at the end. And at the bottom of that ladder is an underground river with a canoe, by which one could escape. A brave man, your father.”

Alain scowled at the insult. Sniggums meowed, apparently taking great delight in his ability to tweak Alain’s ancestry.

“But then your father feared what would happen if he was attacked in his sleep. So we built a second route out from his bedchambers, so he could flee in his robe and night slippers. And then he wondered what would happen if the threat arose while he was eating in the dining hall? As you can imagine, it was one construction project after another, and left much of the fortress with more passages than an anthill!” He laughed, his chuckles erupting in multiple “m’rows!”

“I don’t recall my father being so paranoid,” Alain said.

“Of course not,” said Sniggums. “Your father did not wish to weigh you down with his fears while you practiced swordplay with the Master at Arms. How fitting his end came from a viper he invited to bed. He had no chance to run from her. But even now that he’s gone, the passages remain. The Scarlet Tempest does not fear an army. I’m sure she would charge her doom head-on rather than run like a frightened child.”

Alain’s cheeks turned scarlet with ill-suppressed rage. “Are you done mocking my father, cat?”

“Almost,” purred Sniggums. “But I know better than anyone where these passages are. You can enter from the rocks of the river and end up in her throne room, evading all her men. Of course, you must deal with her mind control. If you have no way to do that, I may as well inform her of your whereabouts now and collect your bounty.”

Alain drew his sword halfway from its sheath. “I have the Sword of Justice,” he pronounced. “It protects its wielder from the Sorceress‘s Mind Control,” he boasted with pride.

Sniggums pawed one of his whiskers. “Adequate,” he said. “You might have a few seconds to cut her down before she realizes your mind is protected and starts to cast balls of flame. You best be quick, but at least you have a slight chance. Not quite good enough for me. I’m not ready to risk my position on a rusty old hunk of metal. For all I know, its enchantment faded years ago.”

“I have a second weapon,” Alain said. “Lady Bridgette from Earth. Earthlings have their own will. They are unaffected by magical Mind Control.”

“Ahhh,” said Sniggums. “Magicks do function strangely when Earthlings are involved. The presence of Lady Bridgette may cause the Scarlet Tempest’s spells to fizzle.”

Bridgette listened quietly, as the two of them made their plans of conquest without asking her input. She grew angry, but decided that she wouldn’t expect more than this from them. These are Fae play-acting. She thought. They are not like my Father who loves me with kindness. They are not like Mrs. White and her awful English lessons. They are not Adam Lawson, who for all his faults is still panicked over his daughter’s disappearance. These are Fae. They are playing the brave Hero, the sneaky Chancellor, the Evil Queen. But that is all they are.

“I swear,” said Alain. “By my father’s blood, by my brother’s betrayal. If you help me win the throne, you will continue as Chancellor, all wrongdoings pardoned, and great rewards besides.

“Insufficient,” said Sniggums. “I must have greater reward.”

“What do you want? The throne itself? I can’t offer that.”

The tips of the cat’s mouth curled up. “But she can.”

“You want something from me?” asked Bridgette.

The robed cat nodded. “Oh yes. Something special from an Earthling would be worth the risk of helping you, lost Prince.”

Bridgette looked at the cat, wondering who he really was. And Sniggums recognized this at once. “You called me Puss in boots. That’s not my truename. But it tells me you know about truenames.”

Bridgette nodded once. “I know what you are,” she said.

“You do not,” said Sniggums. “But you are closer than most. And I am intrigued. You know more of our world than most Earthlings ever find out. But I would like to know more of Earth than any of our kind know.”

Bridgette was suspicious. “Do you want to come to Earth?” she asked.

“I’m not sure I could exist there,” he said. “But there are ways to learn without leaving. Tell me, Lady Bridgette. How did you reach our fair land of Shard?”

Bridgete folded her perfectly sculpted hands. Even knowing it was all an illusion, there was still some small pleasure in possessing beauty. “A computer,” she said.

“And what is a computer?”

“It is- an electronic device. Bickle compared it to a crystal ball.”

Padding to his desk, he picked up several objects that he brought to Bridgette with budding excitement. He unrolled a scroll, and placed a quill and inkpot to its right. “Draw me a picture of a computer,” he said.

Bridgette sat down. She took the quill, its feather soft and brushing against her palm. When she dipped it in the ink she determined it would make a fair enough paint brush, and set to work. Slowly, she sketched a picture of her parents’ computer. The screen and keyboard were easy enough. But she included the mouse, hard drive, a printer, and even the cord to the electrical outlet. Sniggums watched every move, his eyes widening in growing delight with every new addition to her illustration.

“You turn it on here,” she said. “And the screen lights up.”

“What does it show?” asked the cat, twirling his whiskers with joy.

“Depends what program you use. It can be a picture… or a document you’re typing… you push the letter here and it appears on the screen. You can then print it from this ink jet.”

“So you type a scroll rather than hand writing it,” observed Sniggums.

“And you can print as many as you want,” added Bridgette. “As long as you have ink and paper.”

Sniggums smiled widely, imagining all the time saved from not having to copy endless documents by hand. “And it does more?” he asked, as he danced from one paw to the other.

“This modem box,” said Bridgette “carries information from this computer to others like it… millions of them. You can search and learn anything that someone else has already put out there. We call it the internet.”

“And you found us through this ‘internet?’” asked the cat.

Yes,” said Bridgette. “I looked for a game… and it brought me here.”

“A game?” asked Sniggums. “You have this magnificent device, more powerful than the wisest Wizard’s crystal ball… and you use it to play games?!”

Bridgette felt her cheeks reddening. She was used to be lectured by her parents that computer games were a waste of time. “Yes,” she admitted.

“I love games!” smirked the cat. “And now you’re ready for my move aren’t you? I’d be glad to help you all conquer the Scarlet Tempest for the right price. And now you’ve shown me what I want.”

“And what is that?” asked Bridgette.

“A computer,” answered the cat with a smile. “Big or small, even the smallest of your computers would be a mighty magic talisman in Shard. Give me a computer, and my help is yours.”

“How?” Bridgette asked. “I wasn’t able to carry anything between here and Earth.”

Sniggums smiled. “Did you learn anything in your travels? Any magic?”

“A little,” said Bridgette. “I can summon a globe of light. Or darkness.”

“Perfect!” said the cat. “Summoning magic! Put your hands together, focus, and summon a computer instead of a globe of light. If you do it right, it ought to work.”

“Bridgette,” said Alain. “I’m not so sure about this.

“I don’t see any harm in it,” she told him. And to the cat: “You have yourself a deal, Chancellor.”

Putting her hands together, Bridgette decided that Sniggum’s advice was straightforward enough. She envisioned something new in her mind. Something that would fit in her hands and please the greedy cat. She worked the images in her mind until it seemed just right, and brought it through her shoulders and down her arms, ordering the imaginary elements to take shape, in whatever solid form existed in the Dream Chest.

Pulling her hands apart, a smart phone floated in her hands for a second. But as the magic supporting it faded, it fell to the ground. Chancellor Sniggums flung out his paw at lightning speed, and caught it mid-air.

“Purrfect,” he said. He poked at it with his paw, and seemed quick to intuit how it functioned.

“Will that work?” asked Bridgette.

“Will it work?” asked the Chancellor. “I now own something that no one else in Shard possesses! Oh, it will work, my dear! It will work! You’ll explain to me a bit on how it functions, and I will figure out the rest. Soon, we shall be on our way. The Ruby Castle is swarmed with passages like a honeycomb, and I know every twist and turn. The Queen would tremble if she knew how short her hour now lies. So for now, eat, rest, prepare… and the lady will teach me how to use my new toy.”