Fairy Tale: Winter's Bite

Chapter 25: Oh, Brother (Part 4)

Maybe a day and night, maybe several days and nights. There was the feeling of steady motion, occasionally disrupted by tips and turns. But at no point could they tell where they were being taken or when the journey might end, though Joe was venturing a guess.

At seemingly irregular intervals, the lid was opened and crumbs of food were handed to their Gray Coat guards for distribution. Then, more nothingness.

At long last, the bumping and sliding in darkness came to a conclusion with a final thud and a sudden burst of light. Joe's sharp senses had, for what felt like forever, compensated for his lack of sight, so the brightness forced his eyes into a pained squint. He realized, though, that the light was only moonlight, and the brightness was a sparkling from what appeared to be snow.

Then Joe heard a sound he had at first appreciated but now dreaded. The lid of the jar was squeaking. 

The gust of wind that found them, even within the confines of the thick glass, gave a sharp and deadly chill. Joe no longer had any doubt. The fairytale journey that had begun in Pyxis was now circling back to the start.

Before long, Joe, Chris, and Cassie were tumbling down the side of the jar. They landed in a Gray Coat's wide palm and were soon feeling the crush of his fat fingers.

The Gray Coat set them down in front of a gate—the gate. At the main entrance to the underground city, there were more soldiers than Joe could count. Many were wingless and wore gray, but most were in proud red and blue with the asymmetric star sealed upon their breastplates. And every sharp object known to man and fairy—swords, battle-axes, knives, spears, arrows—were pointed at them, three bound, unarmed fairies. Running was not an option. Even if Joe tripped and fell, he'd likely be impaled in thirty different places.

One word came to his mind—overkill.

With the guidance of many disciplined hands, the gate creaked opened. A wave of soldiers descended beneath the snow and rock, and when there was room to move, Joe was tugged forward by the rope tethered to his hands.

Royal Way was a circus, and like tigers, elephants, or bears, the MacRae brothers and Princess Cassiopeia were paraded toward the front of the procession like the main attraction.

Most of the onlookers were shouting insults—Infidels, Unworthy, Bottom-Dwellers—and were throwing putrid objects at them. But there were also many fairies doing the opposite—mocking, attacking, or provoking the soldiers. In a city where the oppressed were nearing desperation, bloodshed on this unprecedented night was a guarantee. And it was happening right before Joe's eyes. The soldiers were clearing the street of opposition with remorseless ease, like bushwhackers through dead reeds.

When they arrived at the Aerial Palace, the soldiers dragged them past the main gate and down a walkway between the palace wall and a graveyard.

Angry fairies swarmed the curved bars adjacent and overhead. There were impressive gargoyle sentinels behind them—monuments for the dead who must have been deemed worthy.

Soon they ducked beneath a gated arch and descended treacherously steep stairs. They plummeted deep into the earth, blazing torches lighting the way.

After two turns and more stairs, Joe was pushed into a cell near the end of a dark corridor. Chris was whisked farther on.

Joe decided to sit down and subtly see what his powers were capable of with his degree of stress and exhaustion, and if he failed, he'd find what minimal comfort he could while he still had the chance.

Before long, he heard the creak of moving metal and Cassie stumbled into view. Pale, listless, covered in wounds already, and with her tiny wrists bound in front of her, she was no match for the fairy beside her.