Page 23 of A Bear in a Birdbath

“Maybe it’s lucky that there are three of us,” Bruno suggested. He was sure they would be victorious. They would save Eva and be home before dinner. “Do I have to worry about eating faery food?” he asked, because the reminder of dinner made his stomach complain audibly.

“If they offer it, it must be served without strings,” Margo assured him. “That’s a change in the most recent version of the Code.”

“Did you read the whole thing?”

“It was only two hundred pages. And some of it was appendixes. I skimmed those.”

The tunnel finally rose and opened out into a meadow of rainbow grass that reflected a brilliant white-gold sky. Bruno blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the sudden brightness, and found himself focusing on the tip of a spear. A knight clad in oddly-jointed armor towered above him until Bruno remembered that he could stand upright again, and then he was eye-to-eye with an eye-slit in a helmet that showed no actual eyes.

“Take us to your leader,” Margo said in a perfect deadpan.

And it did.

20

MARGO

Faery wasn’t quite what Margo was expecting.

Besides being very bright and rather technicolor, it also seemed rather…flimsy.

It was like walking through a movie set; everything looked very grand and impressive from one angle, but when she stepped to the side, it was suddenly flat, and metaphorically propped up with wooden braces from behind.

“It’s all illusions,” Bruno said, when the flower he plucked and tried to give to Margo turned into little dancing motes of light that floated away.

Margo tried to catch the little particles before they escaped, and they slipped through her fingers with the sound of giggles.

Their travel was discontinuous. A valley would stretch out before them for miles, but it could be simply crossed with a few firm strides. Jagged peaks of ice rose before them, but melted away into lace arches and bowers of flowers.

Even with their long legs, Margo and Bruno had to half-jog to keep up with the clanking empty armor, and it wasn’t long until they were entering a forest grotto hung in chiming silver bells and riotous green vines. Figures were milling in the sweet-shadowed underbrush, eclectic and as varied as the shifting landscapes. Most of them had wings, but they were all sorts of wings; leathery batwings, feathered like a bird, or translucent like an insect. Some of them seemed made entirely of light and Margo thought one was simply vibrating air. They came in all sizes, some with knees at eye-level and some barely a handspan tall.

“Eva!”

Margo had been watching her feet, because there were tiny fairies at the edges of the lawn that she didn’t wish to step on, and she looked up to see Eva sitting at the feet of the Queen of Faery on a dais, dressed in a gossamer tunic that didn’t suit her at all.

Relief flooded her, because Eva looked whole and hale, then rage rose up in her like a storm. There was a golden shackle on one slim ankle, and a fine chain that ran to the Queen’s wrist.

She grabbed for Bruno’s arm before the cave bear shifter could surge forward and try to take Eva by force, recognizing the delicate magic and the even more delicate balance of power.

“We’re in her court,” she hissed. “Be careful what you say.”

“Welcome!” the Queen called, as they stepped into the dancing forest shadows. “Tell me, mortals, how did you find your way to Faery without an invitation?”

Margo shushed Bruno with a hand on his arm. “Your majesty, we came in search of our mate.” It wasn’t exactly an answer to her question, but she didn’t want to volunteer more than she had to.

This invited a murmur of speculation from their diverse audience.

“Hmm,” the Queen said, stroking the chain that she held loosely in her hands. “And you come to challenge my champion for her?”

“You choose the place, I choose our weapons,” Margo confirmed, casting her eye over the warriors who flanked the Queen. There was an armored centaur, a scaled lizard in spiked leather, and a gargoyle-like man made of stone muscle who wore nothing at all.

The Queen’s confidence was unsettling. “Indeed.”

Margo knew her limits. Her fighting prowess was considerable, but only because of her size and strength. These were each more than a fair match for her and probably had better training in skirmish. She had a chance. But not a good one.

“I agree,” Margo said, ignoring Bruno’s growl beside her. “Don’t interfere,” she whispered aside. “It has to play out according to the rules.” His hand in hers tightened, but he didn’t stop her.

The Queen made a show of selecting her champion, walking slowly down her line, stroking muscles and drawing her finger along the sharp edges of their weapons. Eva’s chain dangled beside her, expanding as the distance between them grew. Eva clung to the side of the throne but made no move to try to approach them. Her eyes were little gems of hope and Margo prayed that she would not let her mate down with this desperate gamble.

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