Page 1 of Fairies Don't Fall

Chapter

One

“Darling, if we poison the wolves using their water sources then they’ll never trace it to either of us. All we have to do is make sure no one realizes it was intentional until they’ve already lost the numbers to defend themselves. The Singsong Werewolves won’t need any of their caves when they’re dead. Their bodies will fertilize the caverns when we turn it into a garden.”

I jerked awake while the words tangled in my thoughts, panic and confusion breaking through the haze I spent most of my days in.

I reached for the pills outside my cozy cocoon, then stopped. The pills wouldn’t help me think clearly, and the panic made clear-thinking necessary. Why was I panicked? What had I heard? Werewolves were going to be poisoned? Good. I hated werewolves. All fairies hated werewolves, and me more than anyone. So why the panic? Because you couldn’t poison enough werewolves quickly enough to keep them from invading your country and slaughtering everyone you loved.

Once upon a time, in days long past, there was a beautiful fairy queen. She was truth, goodness, mercy, and light, andshe had made Fairyland the beacon of shimmery bliss it was supposed to be.

And then Malamech the Dark Lupin Sorcerer came with his dark beasts and his soldiers, and invaded Fairyland, but first they had assassinated the queen, her consort, and most of her court. The princess was dodging her responsibilities, or she would have been slaughtered with them, and wouldn’t have used the blood of the queen to become something even darker than a dark wolf or lupin sorcerer. That blood, that rage for vengeance, fueled her and her people, until they defeated the invaders and she personally ripped off Malamech’s head and ate his heart.

The thing is, fairies don’t really thrive on vengeance, blood, and carnage, so when the invaders were gone, they were left with a princess too sick to do anything to hold the people together.

That’s me. Princess Grace the marvelous, who spends her days struggling to breathe, lost in a haze of medication. Lots of fairies abandoned Fairyland entirely in the days since the war, making their home on Earth. Good for them. Fewer people whose sickness I bear. Like the land, all of the sickness remaining was my responsibility. Which I accept, more or less, but it’s not a happy thing. Not even a little bit. I’m linked to my people, so I can hear their thoughts if I concentrate on them, and they can hear mine. It’s not something I cultivate, because honestly, not a lot of people think positively about the princess who should have died with the Queen but instead turned her people into psychopaths.

But those words, spoken aloud. I’d heard them and felt their intent. Could I trace those thoughts? Not when my own thoughts were so blurry. We couldn’t poison werewolves in some earthen city I’d only heard rumors about, supposedly a place where everyone could live together in harmony. It was the most ridiculous thing imaginable, because we would not survive a second invasion even if we defeated the attacker. Soaking in thatmuch blood and violence would destroy us forever. I personally would love to see every werewolf in existence wiped out of, well, existence- but not if it put my people at risk.

I took a deep breath and sent my thoughts out, seeking the origin of those words, but when I found the fairy, I was blocked.

I opened my eyes, shocked at the sensation. I was the princess. I couldn’t remember the last time I sought someone’s mind, but you couldn’t just shut me out. It wasn’t illegal, just impossible. Except for now.

The panic combined with my weakness and nausea, making me more than slightly disoriented. I climbed out of my cocoon bed, caught on the folds of pale purple silk, and fell to the floor with a thud. I lay on the gold floor, with its strands of gems in elaborate designs of a flower that glimmered in the reflection of the pale moonlight. The moon was bright and beautiful, lending me some space between the panic and the illness. This world was beautifully made, but it was sick, weak, like me.

If I couldn’t find the person who planned to slaughter the werewolves of Singsong City, then I’d just have to go there and stop it personally. Maybe I could catch whoever had blocked me out and give them a lecture. It must be one of the newer fairies who didn’t remember the war. It had been fifty, a hundred… anyway, many years ago. The newer generations were the future, the hope of our land. I would protect them and keep them from turning into monsters like I had become. All I had to do was stand up.

Talk about impossible goals.

Chapter

Two

The caverns were dark and smelled like dirty wolves, rats, and something very dead.

What was I doing there again? I was perched on a ledge, overlooking the main cavern that someone wanted to use werewolf blood to terraform, with shadows wrapped around me like a cloak. That is, I wore a literal cloak made out of my people’s blood and cobwebs of despair that turned me into an unnoticeable shadow.

The trip from Fairyland to the land of Ohio, and then the ride to Singsong City on the top of the train, clinging for hours, had brought more and more of my mind awake. What was I doing here? I was going to stop an idiot from poisoning werewolves and triggering another invasion. Yes. That part made sense, but actually being here, on earth, in the Undercity of Singsong, crouched on a ledge while my whole body cramped, just didn’t seem that effective. Also, there were werewolves. The scent of them was everywhere, and as already noted, I am not, nor ever will be, a fan of those deadly shifters. I should go back home and organize a search party. Maybe Vervain had spies here. If not, he could make some. I didn’t feel great. No, I felt absolutely awful. My medicine took away the edge of the death sickness, but thatedge was growing sharper and sharper with every second away from my cocoon bed.

Down below, a girl crept stealthily through the cavern, distracting me from my cramping stomach and general self-pity. I’d never seen a girl wolf before. It was so strange to see a wolf that looked innocent and mischievous instead of evil. Werewolves were evil, but she seemed like any fairy youngling off on an adventure. Me. She reminded me of myself when I was young and carefree. More carefree than I should have been. Maybe she wasn’t a wolf, but something else.

Singsong City was full of all kinds of creatures. I’d almost run into a lamppost when I saw the green-skinned, enormous ogre, walking through the crowd in broad daylight like it was normal. He’d also stared at me like I was some kind of apparition, so the feeling was mutual. I’d let my cloak slip, but even with it firmly on, many creatures could see past the darkness.

The girl crept past me, down on the floor, pressing deeper into the caverns. She took the left fork, which smelled worse than the right. I stayed where I was, trying to think through this mission. I definitely should have had Vervain take care of it for me. He was my bodyguard. My mother had wanted him to be my consort because he was so sober and respectable, and hoped it might rub off on me, her flaky daughter, who avoided responsibility and court functions like the plague.

Vervain would say, ‘And that’s why you’re still alive.’ And I’d say, ‘Yes. Because I wanted this life.’ And then he’d sniff and look away, because he can’t stand self-pity. No, I’d have to explain to Vervain what I’d heard, and then he’d ask why I didn’t trace those words, and I’d say because I was blocked, and he’d say it was impossible, and was I sure it wasn’t just a dream? My medicine gave me some very vivid dreams. He didn’t approve of my medicine, either. Or my illness. Or me. I should make him my consort just to torture him.

I smiled slightly and then the screech of owls came from that left fork, and there was the girl, running full-out, with a flock of large owls chasing her.

I rose up slightly so I could get a better view. She was fast, but the owls were faster. They dropped on her in a mass, knocking her to the earth, until the sound of growls gave me goosebumps. She must have summoned her beast. Now I’d see the monster and feel the familiar hatred.

The flock of owls scattered, circling her so I could see the dusky-skinned creature with patchy fur on top of her head. She had summoned her beast, not the wolf. Interesting. Come to think of it, all the werewolves from the invasion had been male. That must be why the sight of her amused me instead of infuriated me. She just looked so lanky and clumsy, with enormous paws and patchy fur, awkwardly trying to be a beast she hadn’t grown into. She got up and ran for the exit, but the sound of beating wings filled the caverns, echoing in the most ominous manner possible.

A white owl came into my cavern, enormous, with a wingspan of at least twenty feet. It dropped down and grabbed her, pecking at her face while the claws sliced at her limbs. The scent of werewolf blood wasn’t something I’d ever forget, but it didn’t make me happy now. The owl turned, its pale feathers almost brushing the wall as it rounded to return to that left fork with its prey.

It wasn’t any of my business. I wasn’t here to stop some random girl from becoming owl pellets, but at the same time, I was here to protect werewolves, and that girl needed someone to save her. When was the last time I’d saved someone?

My teeth were chattering as I stood, took a breath and then leapt into the air, spreading my wings and dropping my cloak of invisibility. I hit the owl’s back and then slid down the silky feathers, struggling for purchase, until I hit the werewolf girland knocked her free from one of the talons. The owl’s flight was thrown off as it tried to peck and claw at us. Ow. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d tried to dodge an owl beak.

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