Just behind the Fairy Ring clearing, framed by the outer toadstool houses, Vox Dragon Lily stood to attention and watched the shadows crisscrossing the open space. Every now and again, a grin twitched across her face.
All around her, the Flutter Ponies erected tiny tents and whipped Rhinoceros Beetles into place, scouring lines through the moss with the bark sleds. Teams hovered overhead, darting down to unload the sparkling leaves and pollen mounds. Others scuttled about, picking up twigs that littered the moss.
It was the perfect location. Looming over her back, the palace was gilded with wax and dried honey, and under the flames planted by her subjects, it gleamed. Right next to the gathering, the pond would allow the Enchanters of the River a good view. Better still, the pink glow of the Ring Portal – currently slowing to a stop, as it had engulfed most of the cliffside – was clearly visible. If only she could’ve dangled it on a hook over the gathering, she would have done so, but it was at least clearly visible there, a constant reminder of what she had accomplished.
Already, the first arrivals were landing. Most of the Nymphs flitted hither and thither, chatting amicably with their fellows. However, a detachment of many species came marching through the centre of the clearing, and her eyes snapped to them. She forced herself to keep her face straight.
Charity Ponies, she thought irritably. Of course. The “goody-goody-two-shoes” species would be the first, wouldn’t they? Quickly, she planted a polite smile between her tusks and inclined her head as the dozen approached.
“To what do I owe this unexpected blessing?” she said, radiating as much keenness and charm as her leaning and slightly bowed body could.
The first three creatures she recognized at once. Lady Guardia of the Charity Ponies was an impressive specimen even by her species’ standards: an anaemic tarantula of a fey being, with the folded wings of an albino dove and the sleek, pointed face of an alicorn in miniature. Levitating beside her furious glare as dutifully as a secretary, the toothpick wand sparkled. Its five-pointed star gleamed.
“Spare me your eel-like words,” said Lady Guardia, waving one of her eight legs as though batting an offending spiel aside. “This territory is the sacred home of the Breezies, beholden to their power. This coup –”
“Liberation,” corrected Dragon Lily. “There was no violence. It can hardly be classified as a ‘coup’.”
“You are trespassing and acting without the approval of the court, and against our time-honoured traditions. This is wrong. We feel that it would be best if you withdrew before the night returns, or the fey will be angry…”
Bored, Dragon Lily peered past the monologuing leader to the two flanking delegates. On the Charity Pony’s right, the Nymph’s ambassador – her memory coughed up the name “Bromeliad” – blushed and smiled apologetically. On the left stood the Viler Spirit ambassador. It had never been clear to her why they were called Viler Spirits. They seemed no worse than anyone else, especially when they were floating and staring at nothing and grinning as though in a blissful coma, like this one was doing.
Behind the leaders, the remaining nine were in various states of outrage, embarrassment, and zoning-out. Eventually, she noticed Lady Guardia had stopped talking.
“I understand, my lady.” For good measure, she inclined her head. “This is a… controversial move, but I think you’ll soon agree a necessary one.”
“There should have been negotiations,” said Lady Guardia, though now her voice sank back into a more respectful tone. “I appreciate you have your views, but the court is the first and final judge of such matters.”
“I’m glad you agree. Yet is it not the case that one impeached by the court also has the right to be heard? I fully intend to submit to the ruling. We are not barbarians, after all.”
The dozen – except for the Viler Spirits, who were idly examining each others’ hair – took in the long lines of tents, the smell of pollen and mushrooms, the flicker of flames being juggled, and the slight buzzing of Flutter Ponies trying to turn their wings into musical instruments. Some of the Nymphs were already dancing in the centre, their cape-like wings flashing with every colour of the rainbow.
“Ah…” murmured one of the Viler Spirits, who was a little more alert than her fellows. “The Faire is here for the court, yes?”
Dragon Lily shrugged, but under her tamed smile a wild beast grinned at the smell of audacity. “Merely preparations for the World Harvest. We cannot let all the traditions slide, now can we? That would be chaos.”
You know what I’m doing, she thought grimly as Lady Guardia’s face turned to steel. The Faire shouldn’t be prepared until the last Breezie comes through the Ring Portal. But what are you going to do about it? Not even you can resist a good run of merrymaking. You’re just as fey as the rest of us. And it’s hard to bluster about our trampling over traditions when there are fun and games to be had. Traditional fun and games. It’s hard for me to look like a warmongering barbarian and a gracious host at the same time.
She risked a small smirk. That was the point about being in the wrong. You’d entered the darkness and come back holding its leash while everyone else was still cowering at home. It was like charisma, turned inside out…
“And, as is traditional for the Faire,” she said, giving the soup of their minds another thoughtful stir, “I will of course be preparing a speech to all those gathered. Since I am acting as host for the event…”
“Not so fast! You cannot hide your crimes behind bread and circuses. We’ll see what the court thinks about this,” replied Lady Guardia, in the smug tones of one who’d peeked at the answers beforehand.
“I’d be fascinated to know what they think,” continued Dragon Lily, while around her the Flutter Ponies bustled on. “After all, this used to be a Breezie-only event. If the judgement is to be a fair one, they’ll need a sample of what liberation means.”
“I know what you’re up to.” Lady Guardia drew herself up to her full height. There were copious amounts of loom in it.
Suddenly, Dragon Lily was grateful the Charity Ponies didn’t have fangs. Spidery as they looked, no one had ever heard of one doing anything aggressive, but on reflection that wasn’t a comforting thought.
Her gaze strayed to the wand floating in midair. There was something alive about the way it floated, as though it was silently watching and waiting. The wands were said to have minds of their own, like pet cats, and Charity Ponies didn’t so much control them as amuse them enough to win their obedience, if the wands felt like giving it.
Dragon Lily braced herself. Then she smirked and leaned forwards, ignoring the fact that her head only came up to the lady’s chin.
“Maybe you do know what I’m up to. But what are you going to do about it?” she whispered.
Drawing back, she sidestepped around the dozen and gave them a respectful nod. Aloud, she said, “I am gratified that you have graced the hive with your presence. In the meantime, please excuse me. I have a Faire to attend to. Ah, I see our next round of guests is arriving.”
Around them, the world faded away. A silvery mist bloomed, leaving her alone on a circle of moss and surrounded by moonlight. Shivers ran down her spine.
Rolling out of the mist was an apple. For a Flutter Pony, it was like seeing a boulder come out of nowhere. Instinctively, she ducked back… and the apple stopped.
Heavenly singing echoed through the mist. Slowly, silently, the wisps around her began to draw back…
She saw them emerge from the stalk over her head. Or perhaps “emerge” was the wrong word: one moment there was nothing, the next there were three figures and it seemed unaccountably obvious they’d been there the whole time, just on the edge of perception.
As the mist cleared, the sky froze into place. Candles slowed. Anything that measured time stopped in their presence.
They were called the Ones from the Otherworld. The last time she’d seen one, she hadn’t even moulted into her legged form yet. Memories of them rose like the dead from the graves of her youth and lurked around her consciousness, haunting her mind.
If she’d had to describe them, the word “spectral” would’ve come to mind. They were too slim and graceful to be sullied with a word like “ghostly”.
Once her senses came back, Dragon Lily bowed with all six legs and almost touched her forehead against the ground, tilting her antennae out of the way. Around her, she was aware of the world returning. When she dared to look up, there was only the apple. All three figures had drifted off to examine the nearest tent.
Burningrose drew up beside her. “Madam?” he whispered. “The ‘ghost Breezies’ have arrived.”
She shushed him at once. “I never said that,” she lied. It was never a good idea to upset the Ones from the Otherworld. Their punishments tended to be metaphysical; she’d heard stories of unlucky beings who’d gone to sleep and woken up to find a hundred years had gone by.
“Steer them away from any food or drink,” she whispered back. “If they touch anything, don’t let anyone else have it. Burn it if necessary.”
“Madam?”
“Just do what I say!”
He scurried off. Already, the Nymphs near the Ones flashed in alarm and turned into drifting leaves or puddles of water. Apparently, it was a self-defence mechanism. Hopefully, they’d turn back in time for the speech.
Her gaze crossed the perimeter, and snapped to attention. Someone was lurking in the tiny trees.
Dragon Lily smiled. Breezie wings were so hard to hide.
The Faire was in full swing now. Here, a Flutter Pony juggler threw sparkling fireballs, to the clapping of fey children. There, another of her hive passed thimbles full of magic water to the gathered spirits, who chatted eagerly: words like “exquisite” and “got a kick to it” and “will we drink like this every day” reached her ears. A space opened up in the centre of the Faire, and creatures of all species were dancing and clapping and singing and laughing.
She was shocked to find it wasn’t just the plan anymore. Actual enjoyment crept into her chest, as though she were watching larvae at play.
At the perimeter, the Breezies broke cover and charged.
Dragon Lily didn’t so much as blink. Surprise tingled in her head, though. There were only two of them, and the one was far more wide-eyed and had more foam around her mouth than the other.
At once, the squads of Flutter Pony guards appeared from seemingly everywhere and closed in on the running figures. The leading Breezie was screaming something in her own native tongue. Too bad the translators are currently occupied, she thought.
The screaming Breezie barely reached the first tents when the moss sprang up and snatched at her legs.
Dragon Lily frowned.
All the Flutter Pony guards hung back, confused. What looked like a scattering of pebbles unfurled, and the stone creatures launched themselves on top of the struggling Breezie.
Out of nowhere, someone lobbed a small stone, which ricocheted off the Breezie’s head. It was not large enough or hard enough to do more than stun her briefly, but it was enough. Within seconds, she was buried under a sentient landslide. The moss rose up to smother it all.
“Excuse me,” Dragon Lily hissed, marching up to the pile. “This is Flutter Pony business.”
One of the moss mounds turned and bowed to her. One of the “stones” did likewise.
“Excuse us, Vox,” said the moss mound. “My boys haven’t had a chance like this for a long time.”
Dragon Lily glared at him, but then remembered herself and neutralized her facial muscles. “Oh, it’s you, Mudstick. I wasn’t sure whether the Brown Foals would even come out of the forest.”
“Neither were we,” he replied coolly. He spoke as though gargling pieces of gravel. “You think you’re doing this world a service, but in my experience, no one ever does something without wanting something else in return.”
“Mudstick!” she said, trying to sound affronted. “What price for a bloodless revolution?”
“Hmm.” His twiggy legs creaked as they bent under his pelt of moss. “We shall find out.”
Dragon Lily expelled him at once from her mind, which wasn’t hard as he soon turned to hold the struggling captive down, and she smiled instead at the “stone”. Behind him, the second Breezie slumped under the surrounding glares of Flutter Ponies.
“And you, Chief Sun Crow?” she said.
The thing resembled nothing more than a foal’s attempt to carve an earth pony out of a brick. Were it not for size, cragginess, stiff jerking movements, and the reflective black pools that passed for eyes, he would’ve made a respectable toy figure.
“We Joggers? We’re very interested. We’re interested to know what you’ve got to say for yourself,” he said gruffly.
“All in good time. But until then, I hold authority here, and the security arrangements are mine to… well, arrange.”
“Until then,” he said stiffly, “there will be no further disturbances. Anyway, you cannot complain about a tribe taking matters into its own hooves.”
She refused to rise to the bait, but Chief Sun Crow’s name was added to a private list of hers. “Well spoken, Chief. Take the intruders and place them in the dungeons until I send for them again.”
“Or until the Breezies come back.” Chief Sun Crow waved a stony hoof and his fellows slipped back into the crowds. Flutter Ponies swarmed over the two Breezies before they could start screaming and fighting back.
Dragon Lily watched the guards drag her new prisoners away, and then shrugged. Crisis over, the music and talk of the Faire came back. She hadn't even realized it had stopped.
After she about-turned and marched away, she could hear the whisperings of the fey beings around her. Good, she thought. This little stunt by the Breezies is exactly what I want them to see.
When all was said and done, she at least hadn’t “attacked” anyone but her intended target, the Breezie tribe. Jumping out at a gathering of all the major fey families, now, that was something else. Perhaps they were mad riot-mongers, or were unskilled assassins, or had gone berserk and planned to destroy everything out of spite. Thank goodness her guards had protected everyone, et cetera, et cetera…
Walking around the Faire to the puddle at the base of the palace, she narrowed her eyes and groaned. Larvae and wingless white Flutter Ponies gathered along the shoreline. As they watched, splashes and spouts of water came from the surface.
Of course, she thought joylessly. The Enchanters. Why on earth not?
Pink dolphins the size of minnows leaped out of the water. On the banks, however, they flopped and became pink pony-like creatures. The newcomers stood up and strode into the waiting crowd, flashing grins and showing off dark tuxedoes and opera capes. Every single one had a top hat on his or her head. They were always snappy dressers; it made it easier for them to snap up unsuspecting victims.
Quickly, she strode to the first of the newcomers, who was showing a dazzling grin to the giggling Flutter Ponies nearest him.
“Ah, my dear!” he said, reaching for her nearest leg and bending down to kiss it. “So you are the one who has stirred up the hornet’s nest!”
A twinkle winked back at her from each of his eyes. It was all she could do to beat it out of her head, and she yanked her leg out of his grip.
“There will be no enchantments,” she growled, “while I have complete authority here.”
“A little birdie-dog told me that’s a matter of opinion.” More of his posse crowded around to pull faces, and a ring near the back hummed and whistled. The four nearest Enchanters echoed in song: “OOOOO… piiiiiiiin… iooooooooon.”
“What do you want?” she said wearily.
“I want what every other species wants,” replied the Enchanter, lifting his top hat briefly – she cringed at the obvious blowhole on his bald scalp – “and what every other species wants, really wants deep down, is a little slice of the cake. After all, aren’t we all looking out for our own good souls?”
“Ooouurr ooowwwnnn goooood sooouuuulllls,” chorused the quartet.
Dragon Lily fought to keep her concentration. The humming and the whistling slithered through her brain the moment she stopped shaking her head.
“Desist from your enchantments,” she said loudly and clearly. “By order.”
“As you wish, my dear Vox.” To his fellows, he added, “You know the rules, my friends. The ruler of this land has ordered us. No improv for tonight.”
“Noooooo improoooov for toniiiiiiight,” chorused the quartet. When he glared at them sidelong, they tightened their lips and looked away. All but he fell silent.
“But let’s not lord or lady it over anyone else,” he said to her, and the twinkle within each eye flared for a moment. “We’re equal under the sun, ain’t I right? Now, you’re in a heap of a predicament, I can tell. This little invasion thing doesn’t look too good from where I’m standing.”
Dragon Lily groaned inwardly, but then a thought struck her. Despite his cool demeanour, she could sense the Enchanters behind him glancing up at the pink glow in the distance. This time, she added extra warmth to her smile.
“Perhaps a change of scenery might let you see another angle to this… predicament,” she said.
“You read my mind. Of course, tangible proof that there are benefits to this little scheme of yours would be considered a mitigating factor. Nothing underhanded, of course.”
“Of course not. And, as a water-based species, you would of course be entitled to special considerations concerning…” She held her breath, and waited for them all to lean closer. “… what to do with the Ring Portal.”
Now he wasn’t even trying to hide the hunger in his face. Enchanters had heard legends of oceans in the Big World. The best this world could offer was a really big pond. Besides, the Enchanters were notorious for trying to sneak into the other world; there were stories about their attempts to break the barriers down.
“Much obliged,” he said with a wink, and the party moved past him. “This might turn out to be a blessing in disguise.”
“I hope so.” She waited until he’d sauntered off into the crowd, and then tried very hard not to retch. The stink of fish hung in the air after him.
There were definitely more species around now, but she had to be sure. They all needed to be here for this to work. Dragon Lily buzzed up her wings and rose over the Faire, picking out shape after shape in the dusk.
Her gaze alighted to one corner, near the forest. Folding her wings up, she threw her legs forwards and braced herself for the drop. Someone tried to throw a small stone at her, but she spread her wings and caught the air just in time. She let the projectile sail below her clawed, dangling feet.
“No throwing! Let’s have some decorum, please!” she hissed, landing on a pile of leaves which turned back into Nymphs and scurried away.
A scraggly creature creaked and winced its way over to her, hobbling on three legs while a fourth weighed up another stone to throw. Yet, despite its body being a mass of wrinkles and its wings being crumpled stubs behind its withers, the creature’s head was round and squishy and mostly made up of two shiny eyes, like a baby’s.
So we have the Chaneques in. That just leaves two more species to go…
“It’s habit,” said the creature in a cutesy voice, and giggled.
“Nevertheless, this is an important occasion. Ah, and I see you have company.”
Another dozen approached, but where the previous set had bristled or squirmed or giggled at unseen things, this set strode and strutted and vibrated with excitement. At the front was the Grand High Curupira, a peccary of red fur and flaming mane, loping along and squealing.
The Grand High Curupira skidded to a halt and raised a hoof. She shuddered; the cleft of said hoof pointed backwards. It never seemed natural to her, no matter how many times she’d seen it before.
“We have travelled,” he said in his native tongue, “a long way to be here tonight. Honoured to meet you, fellow guardian.”
“Burningrose!?” she shouted quickly.
He landed beside her and jumped into action at once. After a brief exchange, he turned to her and translated.
“There are many prey animals in the Big World,” she said, quickly shaking the Curupira's hoof and then just as quickly letting go. “Who knows what good your tribe could do out in the wilds? Maybe this will be a historical occasion for the Curupira too.”
Burningrose translated, rushing through the words until the Curupira and his followers squealed in delight.
Dragon Lily peered past him. “Ah, and I see you brought –”
“We brought ourselves,” intoned the Empress. Alone amongst the other species, she resembled the big ponies in every particular – thickness, head proportions, even in having cutie marks – save for size. A headdress like the rising sun shone on her head, and when she spoke, the fan of feathers fluttered. “We are of course allies of the brave and the bold.”
Dragon Lily bowed at once. “It is an honour to be greeted by the Empress of Alux. My hive is not worthy of such a divine presence.”
The guard of spears and axes stood to attention behind the Empress, who continued, “The Charity Ponies are feeble and weak, just like the Breezies. We will no longer be denied our right to guard the hallowed farmlands of the Big World, and none shall oppose our will any longer.”
“I had no intention of doing so,” said Dragon Lily, bowing again. “In fact, with the Flutter Ponies in charge of the Ring Portal, we would be pleased – nay, eager – to extend a special service to the Alux –”
“This is not about services!” snapped the Empress. “You must win. You have the drive and the courage to show the other species how things should be ordered and disciplined. This is your destiny, Pioneer, and you will not ruin it. Or else.”
Every last one of the spears pointed at her throat. If she'd swallowed too quickly, she'd have ended up with a cheesegrater for a neck.
Despite her inner outrage, Dragon Lily gulped. “Aheheh. Not at all. Not at all.”
The Empress snorted and beckoned her followers to her. As one, they lowered their spears. With a sidelong glare, the Empress strode past her, while her entourage forced Dragon Lily to sidestep out of their way.
That makes the whole set, she thought once the dozen moved on. Trying to calm her own breathing, she turned to Burningrose, who was twitchy and kept glancing at the large hill.
“Is the podium prepared?” she said.
“Yes, Vox.”
“Excellent. Excellent work. Then I think it’s time I stand trial.” For the first time in a long time, her tusks clicked together. Something gleamed in her eyes. “It’s time they know what I’m working for and why. History will be made here, Burningrose. And I will be the one making it.”
For a moment, a flicker passed his eyes. “You mean 'we' will? Erm, Vox?”
Fires burned through her mind. “Is there a problem, Burningrose?”
“No, Vox! No problem at all! Not from me!”
The fires went out. “That's better. Of course, I bring glory to the entire Flutter Pony hive, which is more than that rogue Tailblade ever managed. But enough of this petty bickering. Let us, ah, enlighten the court.”