Fairy Tale: Winter's Bite

Chapter 5: Aurora Borealis (Part 4)

"What are you thinking?" Cassie asked.

He dropped his hands and looked up at her. Only her eyes seemed to pierce through the blurry film shrouding his vision. "The words coming to mind are not appropriate for your presence. To paraphrase, we are . . . completely out of luck."

"At least we have these." She dangled a set of keys in her hand. "They have to be good for something."

Joe blinked a few times and restored his vision to that less-than-perfect place that was normal for him without his glasses. "What are those?"

"They're the Gray Coat's. I also took his weapons."

She rummaged through the knapsack at her feet. Joe peeked inside with her and nodded at the sight of the two short swords and the vest of smaller weapons—knives and daggers. Everything looked sharp and efficient. "Why didn't I think of that? Do you think all this will help us?"

"The keys could make the palace option more plausible. If we could get inside, we might be able to distract the guards, or sneak past them. The plan is almost too audacious for us to consider, but that's why it might work."

"Do you know your way around well enough to get in and out without being discovered?"

"I did live there for sixteen years. Now, what would be the best way to get in?" she asked herself aloud.

Joe let her think for a while. "What did you come up with?"

"There are some obsolete wooden conduits that used to deposit wastewater into the West River. I used to play near them as a child. As far as I'm aware, they haven't been blocked off yet."

"That doesn't sound particularly pleasant. Still, it's the best idea I've heard so far."

As the last of his words were said, the washroom door swung open. Chris walked out—no explanation, no apology—as if he had been simply using the washroom all along, and not having a mental and physical meltdown.

For Cassie, Chris's emergence seemed to signify the end of planning and the start of implementation. She darted to her bureau, giving Chris no opportunity to feel ill at ease. And like co-conspirators, he held the knapsack for her as she packed, and neither of them made a single comment about what had happened in the alley.

Joe just stared at Chris and grew irritable when Chris neglected to acknowledge the stare. So Joe grabbed the nearest thing on Cassie's nightstand and chucked it at his brother.

The newspaper hit Chris in the back of his head. "Ow! Do you really need to throw things at me?" Chris whirled around while rubbing the tender spot on his head.

"What on earth were you thinking?" Joe said as patronizingly as possible. "You could have been killed! If you haven't noticed, you have two kids counting on you to . . . I don't know . . . stay alive! If you pull this kamikaze shit again, Chris, so help me God, I will—"

Joe cut himself off when he noticed the newspaper's title. "The Pyxis Discourse," he announced with false reverence as he picked it up off the floor.

He took a moment to study the cover image. A possessed-looking fairy had a black spider over her lips. Then he flipped the paper open. "'Queen Widow Spider Whets Fangs on Rigel the Magnificent's Unsuspecting Sons,' page three, by Pierre Delacroix," Joe read to them. He turned the page to their story. "Your mother has a charming nickname," he commented when Cassie glanced over.

"And it is well deserved," she said. "Her facial scars complement her knack for killing husbands."

Joe skimmed the article and chuckled. "Oh, this is rich. It gets even better. 'Citizens of Pyxis, the fate of the brave and the strong is in your hands. Will we do what we must to prevent the torture and torment of these innocent victims?'" Joe stood up and pretended to be giving an inspirational speech. "'The time of complacency and self-preservation is over! If we fail to act, then democracy is as good as dead.' A little over the top, don't you think?"

"Pierre means well," Cassie muttered with a shrug. "He's the reason you're here. Without that article, you would still be in the queen's hands."

"I'm sure your boyfriend does mean well, but. . ."

He paused and looked into her face to gauge her reaction and saw exactly what he had hoped for—indignation.

"I never said . . . He's not my . . . Oh!" she nearly shouted.

Joe raised his eyes and his hands to heaven and mouthed "thank you." Then he gave her a wink. "Well, someone should tell him that. And then maybe he'd keep his greasy paws to himself. Wait. Did I just say that out loud?"

He was attempting to make her laugh to ease the moment, but she didn't even crack a smile. And while she stared at him, blankly, as if he were speaking gibberish, one of Chris's eyes fluttered, the classic expression of his annoyance.

"C'mon, Joe. Quit clowning around. Let's get some sleep. Then, in a few hours, we'll wake the kids and get the hell out of this death trap."

"You think this is a death trap? Wait until you hear our plan," Joe said lightly.

"Joe, I'll leave it to you to give Chris the details," Cassie said. She outlined sleeping arrangements and a plan for gathering more supplies, then excused herself from the room.

Joe summarized the escape plan for Chris and updated him on the other, less feasible options as well.

"So that's the best you've got?" Chris said with a scowl on his face. "We just walk right into the queen's palace and hope we go unnoticed?"

"Cassie seems to think it's our best option. Do you have a better idea?"

"I guess not." There was defeat already in his voice. "I'm not waiting until the spring thaw. That's ridiculous! We'll get out of here, one way or another, as soon as possible."

Chris's words hung in the air. They would be free of Pyxis soon enough. Perhaps they would be walking out. More likely, they'd be running. And, of course there was the chance they'd be "flying"—but in the worst way possible.

Joe tried to picture himself changing from a fairy into an angel, and winced. If there existed a pleasant afterlife, he wasn't sure he'd make the cut on such short notice.