"Where are we going?" we walk through the crowded streets, bumping shoulders with other creatures going our way. I notice that almost everyone are walking in the same direction as we are - there are just few creatures heading in the other direction, mostly ones without vampires in their chains following them around.
"You'll see," the fairy brushes me off, as if it doesn't concern me at all, where we're going. I don't trust her, at all, but I really don't have any other choice, unless I want to wander in this dimension for years coming.
I tighten Damon's chains in my hand, squeezing the cold iron with my hot and sweaty palm. I wonder what bothers him more - actual restraints around his neck and wrists, or his inability to speak. He has to stay quiet and obey, just like every other vampire in here, even though his situation is very different from theirs. He's pretending, they're actually trapped.
The crowd starts getting thicker and thicker, and the noise becomes louder. Chains are rattling in the air, against the ground, bumping into one another as prisoners pass each other on the street. Few voices are louder than the others, I can pick them apart from the crowd - they're booming. And almost every of their sentences is followed by an applause or a cheer.
When we take a turn to the right, the sight before my eyes makes my breath stop in my throat. I come to a halt, and Damon almost bumps into me, too late to react to the stillness of my movement. The fairy notices this, my surprise and disgust - she probably expected to see it on my face, anticipated it - so she hisses at me quietly. "Keep walking," the look in her eyes is dangerous, warning.
I swallow my breath and make my feet move.
I can smell blood in the air. The streets are full of it, blood is pouring through the cracks in the ground like a river. There are wooden stages all around the place - we have walked into some kind of a square, with its perfect circular shape and vast emptiness to fit all the creatures in. Some stages look civilized enough, like the one on our left, where there's just a narrow, tall desk, behind which there's a man with a wooden hammer between his fingers. There are vampires stepping onto the stage behind him, one by one, weakened and chained. The creatures in front of the stage are shouting, lifting their hands in the air, until the man behind the desk finally yells something, and hits the table with a hammer. One vampire goes down the stage, the other one climbs up, and the same thing happens all over again.
They're bidding vampires, selling them to the highest bidder, not caring what his intentions might be. He can use the vampire as a slave, sell him back to his own kind, or torture him to death.
That's awful, but it's still better than some other stages, where vampires are getting tortured publicly. On one stage there's a vampire, chained to a metallic post, getting water poured down on him. By his screams, and by the marks on his body, the water is spiced with vervain. If he were in perfect health, he would be able to pull the post right out from the ground and free himself, just like Damon could probably tear these chains binding him. But the vampire is unfed and weak, and the only thing he can do is stand there and take whatever they have in store for him. On the stage next to him, there's a man, stabbing a vampire with wooden spikes, careful not to puncture his heart. On the same stage, there's a body on the floor, some of the its limbs missing. I can clearly see that the vampire is missing his arm, and I don't want to know where it ended up. I just hope, for his sake, that the vampire is dead already, and not just unconscious or with a broken neck.
"Welcome to the vampire fair," the fairy says, all emotion lacking from her voice. Maybe she's used to this, maybe she's even enjoying it, or maybe she simply doesn't care.
From the moment we stepped in, I knew that this is the vampire fair everyone have been buzzing about ever since we came here, but I was too surprised by the sight in front of me to produce a coherent thought, or a sentence.
"Why would you bring us here?" I hear Damon's pained voice coming from behind me.
I am upset. I am disgusted. You can't treat another person like property, even if they keep weapons behind their lips. The scent of blood is making my stomach queasy. I'm afraid something like this might happen to Damon if we're not careful enough. If I'm not careful enough.
Damon, on the other hand, is struggling with other emotions. These are his people out there, getting chopped to pieces for no real reason.
For him, it's personal.
The fairy looks appalled that he would think to speak to her in public, so when she gets over her initial shock, she points us towards the tavern not so far away from where we're standing. "Not here," she hisses, pointing her finger towards a small, wooden building, "There."
She starts walking in its direction, and we have no other choice but to follow. Damon doesn't seem interested in moving, he's shooting arrows from his eyes towards the scenery around him, so I have to yank his chains to make him walk. He looks at me unhappily, his eyes full of rage and murder and.. fear?
He's done worse things than this, and he's finally seeing his reflection. He's not just mad at these people, he's mad at himself.
When we arrive to the tavern, I turn around to sneak one last look. Before the doors swing in on me, I see a man plunging one last spiky, wooden stake at the vampires heart, because that's the only space on his body still free.
He lets out one last shriek as his skin starts turning gray and cold. The crowd cheers.
No one pays attention to us when we walk in. The place is full, probably because there's not a lot of space in here to begin with. It's also very quiet in here, most creatures are sitting by themselves, and those who have company chatter in low whispers. As we walk between the tables towards our seat, I take a look inside of their cups - there's something green and slimy in them. I tear my look away when its scent makes my eyes water. What the hell are they consuming?
The fairy finally finds us a table, so we sit down. "We can talk freely in here," she announces, her voice not hushed anymore, "No one cares around here, everyone who comes here are hiding something."
I look around and, indeed, no one is paying attention to us. I guess their burdens alone are too heavy to carry.
"My name is Drogis, but you can call me Dro," her name sets my memory on fire, looking for familiarity, but I can't seem to find anything. Physically, she doesn't remind me of anyone, except of a goth fairy from the other side of Disney. But her name sparks a memory, and so does the sound of her voice, but I just can't seem to find an appropriate place for them inside of my head.
"I'm Bonnie," I say after a short period of silence. "And this is Damon," I point towards the frowning vampire sitting next to me.
"Okay, this is how this is going to work," she says as soon as I finish my sentence, our voices overlapping. She clasps her fists together and leans over the table. "You give me all the information that you have, and if I find something in there worth knowing, I'll give you the information I have about the key."
Damon scoffs next to me, releasing that's-not-going-to-happen huff, while I furrow my brows in confusion. "Why do you think we have any information worth hearing?" we've strangers to this dimension, struggling to figure it out ourselves. We don't have any answers, what we do have is too many questions no one is willing to answer.
"You're looking for a way home," she states. She sees me as ignorant for not thinking about it sooner. "Which means you've traveled a lot around the dimension, looking for a way out. You've probably seen and heard things you don't even know are valuable."
Okay, that does make sense. We might know something that has zero importance to us, but means everything to someone else.
"We'll tell you whatever you want to know," Damon speaks up, his own strength surfacing back up. "But you'll have to go first."
Dro laughs, as if that's the most absurd thing she has ever heard in her life. "And why would I do that?"
"Because we don't have any reason to lie to you, whereas you have a lot of reasons to lie to us," he argues.
I can see them maintain eye contact, both so stubborn, both so unwilling to let it go. I feel out of my depth here, like I don't belong between the two of them.
"Fairy people can't lie," she makes a point, pinning him down with her look.
"Honestly, I'm not sure I believe that anymore."
If she were a fairy still living by the code of her people, that statement would outrage her. Fairy people are very prideful people who take these kinds of accusations way too close to the heart.
To our luck, she's not that loyal to her people anymore, whatever the reason might be.
She pulls her hands away from the table an eases back into her chair. "Fine, I'll answer your questions first," she says, none too happy about it, "But first, let me apologize for bringing you here without a warning. I'm aware this is not something you're used to," she grins. She knows this is going to provoke us. I just don't know if that statement was directed to both of us, or just Damon himself.
At that moment, I think to ask something that, for some reason, hasn't crossed my mind before. "How did you know you can trust us?" I ask, and she gives me a curious look. "I mean, how did you know who we are, and that we won't report you?"
"Ah," she finally understands what I mean, "I saw you hiding behind the tree in front of the town. Honestly," she chuckles, clearly amused, "Did you think I'm blind and that I wouldn't see you?"
"No, just deft," Damon says smugly, and she gives him a look that could melt him on the spot.
"You played the guards nicely, but I knew instantly that he's not your slave, but a free vampire," she chooses to ignore his words completely. Her face turns into a weird, half disgusted, half curious grimace. "Are you two a couple?"
"What?" I raise my voice to answer that question, but Damon doesn't say anything. He doesn't even budge to her accusation.
"I'm not judging. I know that's acceptable in your world, even if you two are natural enemies. I've seen weirder things happen," she shrugs. Has she? Because, honestly, I haven't.
"How do you know so much about our world?" Damon dismisses her question, he doesn't even bother to answer it, which, out of some reason, stings a bit.
"Because I've been there."
"You have?"
Well, that's wonderful. If she's been able to cross dimensions, she can tell us how to do it, and we can forget all about finding the rest of these rotten keys.
For I minute I actually allow myself to think that things could ever be that simple.
"Yes. Your world is a very peculiar place," she comments.
Really? Our world is?
"How did you manage to cross dimensions?" Damon jumps right to the business. I should let him do the talking more often. I'm too curious for my own good, so I get off topic way too easily, and way too often.
"My magic allows it. The magic of fairy people transcends dimensions."
"Can't you just help us get back, then?" he asks exactly what I've been thinking about.
She scowls. "Our magic is tied to our blood. So unless you have fairy blood in your system, my magic is no good for you," she explains. Does that mean her magic can't hurt us either? That doesn't seem very efficient. It would leave fairy people defenseless, because it means they could only ever harm each other, which beats the purpose.
"What if we get some fairy blood in our systems? Would then your magic work on us?"
She raises her eyebrow, clearly amused by this idea, instead of viewing it as dangerous and threatening. "I can see how you would be able to get fairy blood inside of you, but what about her?" she points at me with her look.
"I was asking only theoretically," he answers, but I know that Damon never asks anything unless he has an idea how to execute his plan.
She sighs, disappointed in his answer. I believe she's been expecting something more temping than that. "Theoretically, yes, it should work. But, honestly, I have no idea. I've never heard of anyone trying it before, so I can't be one hundred percent certain."
"What about the guards?" I ask, feeling shunned out of the conversation. "Waiters, the other staff.. Damon says they're all vampires."
"I was wondering when you're going to mention that, because I was sure you've noticed," her grin stretches from ear to ear, "Other vampires are usually too weak to notice, or to preoccupied to actually care. One year, there was a prisoner well enough to catch it, and he dared to ask questions, to ask for mercy and help. Guards almost tore him apart at the accusation that they're the same as he is. Quite weird, isn't it? Vampires taking care of the place designed for torturing their own species. Then again, it's oddly brilliant."
"Are they compelled?" that's the only solution that comes to my mind, one that makes sense to me.
"Heavens no!" Dro laughs, affected by my silly thoughts.
"Enchanted?" I don't see anything funny in my questions.
"More like brainwashed."
"Brainwashed?" Damon and me echo at the same time, sharing a quick glance at each other afterwards, both amused, if not surprised, by our punctuality.
"They don't remember who, or what, they are. Now, they hate vampires almost as much as every other species out here."
"But not you," Damon pushes her, pokes at her beliefs, testing how much of a fairy she still is.
She frowns at that, her eyes becoming more darker with every second she stays silent. "I'm on a mission. I don't have time to believe in anything else. But I take it you don't support what's going on here."
"How could we ever support it?"
She turns her full attention to me. "How could you not? Don't you humans have your legal system as well?" Is she trying to compare our laws to this public massacre? "Don't you punish your abusers and murderers? Don't you put them in electric chairs and throw them in cells? I've seen vampires in your world. You fear them, because you let them rule you. You hide in your houses after the sun falls down, you set curfews, but they find a way to walk in sunlight and tear your necks open. Vampires are predators, they're made killers. They have no self control. First they prey on you to feed, then when they weaken you, they prey to kill. Even your friend over here," she spits out the word friend, as if she doesn't believe in the accuracy of the word, "Has probably done at least ten things you can count in one breath."
I don't say anything to that. I can't, because it's true. I can name at least ten things he has done, awful things, and then keep on counting.
"See, you know that I'm right," she says victoriously.
"Have these vampires ever done anything to you?" Damon asks, furious.
"No," she has an answer ready, "But why risk it?"
That's not fair, or right. Every man is innocent until proven guilty.
But vampires, they're not men.. they're not human.
Have I softened in Damon's presence? When has my opinion about vampires changed so drastically? Since when do I stand on the same side as them, instead of opposite them?
"The key," I squeeze out, tired of wasting my time on questions that aren't of any importance at the moment, "Where can we find it?"
Dro smiles at me, knowing that she had managed to pull my strings. "Oh right, the key. The one that flies, but never reaches the skies. It's in Veneficium Humus, the home of the Fairy people."
"What?" Damon's voice booms.
"But that's miles away from here!"
It was left from Cavis Terrae, where we were trapped when we first arrived, which was ages ago.
"Not really," she shrugs, "You should know that this dimensions runs in circles. You're bound to visit the same place at least twice, even if you know where you're going. Enough about you," she switches the topic, "Let's talk about me. I believe you owe me some answers. Now," she wiggles her lips, as if talking about the following topic makes her uncomfortable, "I'm looking for my sister."
Sister. My brain jumps, all the memories inside of it rattling, induced by that one word.
Sister. Fairy. Drogis.
If you ever do find yourselves among Fairy people, ask for Drogis. She's my sister.
"Her name is - "
"Miriam," I interrupt her before she has time to finish her thought.
Her eyes widen, her surprise more evident than ever.
"Y-you have m-met her?" she stammers, her vulnerability showing for the first time.
I nod. "Yes. At Cavis Terrae. Queen Letitia has her. She.." I remember Miriam. I remember how she's most likely dead by now, not that Letitia has found out she had helped us escape. "She helped us escape."
"So she's alive," Dro says hopefully, praying for it to be true.
"She was the last time we saw her," Damon pitches in, his words not meant in malice, but in good will. He knows that the alternate, the possible truth, is much worse.
"Letitia," Dro shakes her head, "Should have killed her when I had the chance," she mutters into her own beard before standing up. "Thank you," her face hardens, "Good luck with your quest."
Before I'm able to wish her the same, she's already halfway across the room, walking towards the door.