Author's Note: Uploading this before work today. It's long, I realize that, and it ends on a semi-cliffhanger. Also, there's a little bit of profanity on Tootie's part. Let's see if anyone reads and reviews...
"Enemy of My Enemy"
Tootie thought a dragon egg on her bed and ice coating her room was a strange thing to come home to after a long day at school. Trying to think of how to best navigate the room, she tiptoed, slipped on the ice near her bed, and hit her head. Her eyes watered as she pushed herself up and fell again. The ice burned against her palms.
"Can I get some help here?" she yelled. Waving her hands in the air, she waited for someone to grab them. "Deborvak?"
Nothing happened. Tears slid down her cheeks. Shoving against the ice, she pushed herself into a sitting position. Her palms slipped against the smooth surface and she hit her head on the ice again.
"Deborvakovik!" she screeched.
A note floated down and landed on her face. Huffing, she stared at it. It took a while for her eyes to clear enough to read.
"He is unavailable as he is mine, little girl," a note with unfamiliar handwriting read. The words floated before her eyes and rearranged themselves into legible English. Once read, the note crumpled into ash.
"Vela?" she called. "Aurelia? Anybody?"
Skidding backward on the ice, she retreated until she hit her dresser. The dresser hadn't been frozen over and the drawers moved. Using them as leverage, she tugged one open. The resulting force sent her sliding down onto her back. Crying, she stared at the ceiling. The ceiling stared back and a pair of olive eyes contemplated her.
"Stefan?" she cried and then, desperate, added, "Fyraka?"
"Now, why would you call me?" a disembodied voice replied. His voice was a deeper baritone than Deborvak and slightly husky. Rolling her head to look at him only sent her sideways across her floor. The olive eyes vanished.
"Because my room is iced over and I don't know why?"
"I have no charge of you, little one," Fyraka replied. "Nor should I. You are Deborvak's sole responsibility and if he fails to answer, that is not my concern."
"But you answered!" she wailed.
"Because you called me by my full name and got my attention," he replied. "There is no love lost between Deborvak and myself and simply because he is beholden to you does not mean I should fulfill his obligations."
Hands scraped raw by her repeated attempts to sit upright, she settled for clinging to the drawer knobs and pushing against the back until she managed to sit. Fyraka was nowhere to be seen; Deborvak's cage had a fine sheen of ice. Parts of her floor had frozen, including the area in front of her bed, but the side near the window hadn't been touched. The window had a burn mark and she smelled burnt rubber.
"My room is frozen and I don't know what to do. Don't you care?" she said, sniffling. She curled into a ball only to end up on her back again with her knees to her chest.
"You are a pathetic figure," Fyraka said. He appeared then; an elf with tipped ears, dark brown hair, and brown eyes. He wore a leather vest over a red shirt and black trousers. He was tall, at least six feet, with a more circular face than she normally saw upon elves. When he moved, he hovered over the ice and where his feet had gone, the ice melted.
"Yes," she admitted. "Now help me!"
"The fact remains. You are Deborvak's. Why should I help you?" he inquired. His hair was tied in a ponytail and slung over one shoulder.
"Because...because..." she had no answer. "Isn't your hair supposed to be red?"
"It changes according to the seasons," he replied. "As it is currently winter, my hair is brown."
"Oh," she said, feeling stupid. "Please help me?"
"No," he said and sat on her bed.
"Where's Deborvak?" she huffed. Lying on her back with her legs pressed against her chest looked stupid and she released them to lie flat on an ice sheet.
"On business with the evil sorceress," he replied. "We haven't seen him in a few days. You're not very observant."
"He showed up yesterday!" she huffed.
"Masha will be glad to you know you merit more attention than her," Fyraka purred. "How long was he here for?"
"A couple hours...he looked pretty bad," Tootie answered, remembering. "He had bags under his eyes and he kept lighting things on fire. He also said we needed to be vigilant against my many times great grandmother."
"Did he?" he replied, sounding bored. "That's his business, not mine."
"If you don't care, then why are you still here?"
"I love to see something of Deborvak's fail miserably at a simple task," he answered. "You're supposed to be half fairy. Why don't you use magic? I know, a novel concept!"
"And do what? Melt the ice?" she said miserably. "I can hardly think straight with this cold and you're laughing at me."
"That is not laughing at you. This is laughing at you," he said and snickered. He followed it up with a snort and a derisive chuckle. "Would you like some more examples?"
"No!" She wiped her eyes. "Why do you hate me so much?"
"It's nothing personal," he replied. "I hate anyone who loves him."
"Why?" she snapped.
"He looks like Stefan. You may not have noticed, but he does." Fyraka bounced on the bed, swept a casual hand along the floor, and the immediate area near the bed melted. The ice turned to water, which then evaporated.
"What does that have to do with anything?" she cried.
"It's none of your business."
"You're sitting here, in my room, mocking me. I think I have a right to know what's going on," she snapped. "Or at least why you haven't left yet."
"I have nothing to do. Nothing marked on my schedule, save for tormenting little girls." It almost sounded like he was teasing her, but in her current mood, she didn't care.
"At least tell me why Vela froze my room," she said. She closed her eyes and imagined fire. The floor by her thawed and she created a small pathway to her bed. When she had nearly reached him, she stopped to examine him closely. He had a dark aura, but not wholly evil.
"She was upset. It seems that her father has, yet again, omitted an important detail," he said. "As to what that detail is, I can only conjecture, but it appears to have upset both girls."
He gestured at the window. Tootie lunged at the bed and scrambled, snatching the comforter. Fyraka watched, disinterested, and she landed on the floor with the comforter beneath her.
"You're not going to help. At all," she huffed.
"No. I'm not. By the way, were you aware that a purple haired fairy with too much time on her hands has been stalking you for the last two weeks?" he answered.
"My great-grandmother?" she replied.
"If that's what she is, then yes. She may reveal herself soon."
"What does she want?" she squawked.
He shrugged. Flopping back onto her bed, he stared at the ceiling and set the birdcage on fire. Already brittle from Vela's freezing, the cage snapped off its stand and toppled. With another wave, he destroyed the cage's decorations and any food left. When he was done, the birdcage warped into a metal mess.
"Just because he looks like his grandfather is no reason to hate him," she snapped. She clawed at the comforter and it came completely off the bed. On her stomach now, she snagged the bottom sheet. Fyraka glanced at her again, sighed, and offered her a hand.
"I thought you weren't going to help me," she huffed.
"I had a change of heart," he said. "Besides, I won't be around for too much longer."
"Why?" she asked, accepting his hand and landing beside him on the bed. Panting, she forced herself upright.
"I have other things to tend to," he said and then scowled. "Did you think the world revolved around you, little one?"
"Will anyone come back?" she whispered. Vicky was in a towering rage, angry with Timmy. Cosmo and Wanda were being cryptic, more so than usual, and trying to keep everyone away from Vicky. Meanwhile, her parents had gone on an extended vacation away from their eldest daughter and neglected to leave Tootie a phone number. They had also neglected to bring their cell phones.
Fyraka stared. His eyes narrowed and she thought him about to snap, but instead, he shook his head.
"I can ask my daughter and her girlfriend to stop by. Vela is not...in the best of circumstances right now," he replied.
"What's wrong?" she asked sourly, not sure she cared.
"Mental breakdown," he said. "Like her mother, except worse."
Tootie had known Vela was unstable, but had never thought it serious. She looked quizzically at Fyraka. Shaking his head, he conjured a fireball on his palm and then closed his hand over it, sending out a smoke puff.
"What about Aurelia?" she asked and sneezed. Fyraka produced a handkerchief with the Tylae insignia. He shook it out and handed it to her.
"Aurelia is off being the Princess of the Steppes. Or didn't you know that she is minor royalty?" he replied.
"Oh," she said. "I thought the idea of having a godfather was that, you know, he was supposed to godfather. But he's never around. And Vicky's gonna kill me one of these days."
"If you don't kill her first," he replied lightly. "As for this situation- it has been brewing for some time. Far be it for me to exonerate Deborvak, but this isn't his fault. He has split his obligations too far."
"Why can't he just stay here?" she burst out. "Who the hell cares about some evil sorceress throwing her weight around? He's my godfather!"
"Yes. This clearly supersedes his obligation to his teacher, his daughters, and to his wife. Let's also not forget his extended family, which includes me although I know he cares nothing about me in particular. Let the world burn so long as Tootie DeLisle keeps her godfather. I'm sure no one would notice Tylae sized craters in the earth."
"That's not what I mean!" she snapped, pounding her fist against her thigh. "I'm his goddaughter and I need him more than that stupid bitch! Why does she get to keep him? He's mine!"
"Be careful what you wish for," he cautioned.
"That's exactly what I'm talking about! Why is it that nothing I ever want is granted? Why doesn't anyone ever pay attention to me? Cosmo and Wanda are off godparenting Timmy and ignoring me again! Vicky's torturing me and no one cares! And Deb's off on this damn expedition! No one cares about me!"
"Did it ever occur to you," Fyraka said, his tone dripping acid, "that the world revolves around more than you? I'm sorry- we shall all try to arrange our emergencies to suit your busy schedule as a twelve-year-old."
"Fuck you!" she cried. "Why can't you be sympathetic? Why does everyone have to give me such a hard time?"
"Poor me," he snapped. "Pity me. If everyone who deserved pity as a child received it, there'd be far fewer unhappy adults. Oh, I know- 'that's not how godparenting works'. Let me tell you this is how the world works. Cosmo and Wanda are busy because Vicky went too far with Timmy. They have concerns beyond you. Deborvak wants to keep his family from being murdered and, since I suppose you might be considered part of that family, you might want to rethink your selfish attitude.
"Or not. You know, this is why I never wanted children. They insist on harping about their own problems, as though nothing should be more important than their petty day to day concerns," he snapped. His eyes darkened. "This too shall pass. Your problems with Vicky will come to a head and you will realize your power, seize it, and punish her for what she's done. Deborvak will return or he won't. Your life depends on yourself, not on someone else's pity."
"You're so cold..." she protested. She sobbed, hugging herself. "How can you be so cruel?"
"I never had a 'fairy godfather' make everything better. I never had a mother who at least attempted to connect with me. I never had a father. Count your blessings- you know your power and you will know how to use it," he snapped.
"Big deal," she grumbled, staring at her training wand. "All I know how to do so far is melt ice. Why did you offer to send your daughter and her girlfriend if you don't want to help?"
"They're lightsiders," he said with a grimace. "They might take pity on you."
Sweeping his hand around again, he created a firestorm that died as soon as it had covered him. The mirage was impressive and when she searched for him, he had gone.
She rolled over onto the bed, off onto the floor, and went in search for pain medication. Along the way, she wiped her face and sniffled.
Returning to her bedroom, she looked at the dragon egg. Fyraka had paid it no attention. She approached it gingerly. The egg was hot to the touch. She rapped her knuckles on it and created a small hole. Gasping, she withdrew.
"Hello?" she called. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to break your...shell? World? I'm sorry!"
Cocking her head, she listened for a protest. When none came, she crept near the egg. Using her fingers, she poked a bigger hole. A slim dragon head rested atop a tiny body.
"Hello?" she repeated. "Are you okay? I'm really, really sorry."
The dragon ought to open its eyes and look at her. She gazed at it, but it didn't move. Carefully, afraid it'd take her fingers off, she poked it. It was cold, with no residual warmth.
Gulping, her skin clammy, she touched it again. She ran her fingers underneath its neck and to where, in a human, one might find a heartbeat. The body had no scales and instead possessed very soft, tender skin. Its lungs did not rise and fall nor did its heart beat.
"Fyraka?" she called again. "Fyraka, I need help!"
He didn't answer. She extracted the dragon. It lay, sprawled, on her bed. Its wings were deformed mere flaps, and its tail a stub. Desperate, shaking, she pressed on its chest in an attempt to perform CPR. It didn't respond.
"Are you...dead?" she whispered.
Biting her lip, she sobbed. "Are you dead, little dragon?"
The dragon stayed quite still. She jumped off the bed. "Cosmo? Wanda? Please? I know you're busy, but I need you."
Like Fyraka, Cosmo and Wanda were duty bound to answer when their full names were spoken. They didn't respond and Tootie rubbed her arms. She was starting to get very creeped out. What exactly did someone do with a dead dragon on the bed?
It probably deserved a decent burial, but it was after dark and Vicky was downstairs. Short of jumping out of the window, she had no idea how to avoid her. Fyraka probably could have immolated the body, but she refused to consider it. It wasn't in her repertoire of skills and it felt cruel, to destroy it before it had a chance to live.
"Cosmo? Wanda? Poof?" she tried, desperate. She hugged herself and stared at the egg. Pushing her magic toward it, she willed it to life. She thought she saw it shake and then she realized that was her causing the bed to move. Slamming her palm into the table, she groaned. And a small voice spoke above her head.
"Poof, poof?" Tootie looked up. Poof, uncertain, gawked.
"You came," she whispered. "Why did you come?"
"Poof?" he repeated, bewildered. Pink fairy dust rained down and Wanda grabbed her son. Cosmo followed suit, confused. He looked from Wanda to Tootie and back.
"Why did you call my son?" Wanda asked stiffly.
"Why didn't you come when I called you?" she replied.
"Jorgen is keeping a close eye on Vicky," she answered. "What is it?"
"Hey, what's with that egg? It looks…" Cosmo stopped, staring at the egg and then the stillborn dragon.
Both adult fairies scrutinized the bed. Wanda blanched and she squeezed her wand. Poof vanished. Grave, Wanda settled on the bed to investigate. Her hands trembled holding the eggshell. Cosmo looked serious, but Tootie wasn't sure whether he was mirroring his wife or knew what was going on.
"Where did you get this?" Wanda asked.
"I found it on my bed after I slipped and fell in the ice Vela made. Not to mention the window Aurelia burned," she said, pointing.
"Where's your godfather?" she replied, eyes narrowing.
"I dunno. I got was this weird note saying he belonged to somebody else. Fyraka said he was in a really bad situation and couldn't come. He also said something about children leading Deb into a trap…maybe this egg has something to do with it."
"If he's in trouble, he should tell Jorgen," Wanda said.
"This isn't that kind of trouble…at least…I don't think so. It's from his world, not yours," she said.
Wanda waved her wand and the dragon egg disappeared to parts unknown. Floating in midair, she and Cosmo stared and Tootie stared back. Wanda's gaze was penetrating, Cosmo's perplexed. Uncomfortable, Tootie bit the inside of her lip.
"What is it?" she asked.
"I don't know what we're going to do. You're not our goddaughter, so you're not our responsibility, although Jorgen had charged me with watching you before Deborvak came around. Now he's missing in action, but we have to take care of Timmy. You're on your own again."
"That's a bad thing?" she guessed.
"The last half fairy child left on Earth that Jorgen found was placed under custody and locked up in Fairy World."
"For how long?" Tootie asked, fidgeting.
"Indefinitely."
"Or until you die, whichever comes first," Cosmo replied. Wanda glared. "What? I'm not saying it's a good thing. I don't know how long she'll live."
"You're not going to report me, right?" she pleaded.
"No, but you're a liability," Wanda said with a wince. "The last powerful half fairy child left to her own devices created quite a mess. Technically, no one can stand in for Deborvak unless they have equal power and ability…and we're experiencing a shortage of fairies with that criteria."
"But it's not against Da Rules," she pressed.
Wanda looked pained. "No. But things how they are with Vicky…"
"Whatever happened with Vicky isn't my fault!" she cried.
"I know, sweetie, but she crossed a line. Situations like these are delicate, and when you add a missing godfather to the mix…things can get very bad very quickly."
"This isn't my fault!" she raged and the remnants of the birdcage crumpled into ash. She pushed the tears back. "I called and he didn't answer! Fyraka said he'd send his daughter and her girlfriend but they're not him either. Why the hell do I get the retarded godfather that's never around and excuses from you guys? Timmy doesn't need you like I do and he gets you anyway!"
"Setting a godparent over a half fairy is experimental," Wanda said. "And Jorgen didn't want us as your godparents…considering who your father is."
"That and we screw everything up," Cosmo added brightly.
"So I get stuck with someone who cares more about his skin than me?" she protested.
"I'm not sure that's what's going on…" she replied. "Deborvak?"
"He's not going to answer," Tootie said, disgusted. "He's too busy being someone else's bitch."
Wanda forced a smile equal to Cosmo's. "Hun, you don't know what's going on. Why don't you—"
"Why don't you lay off?" she snapped. "Timmy's got it so much easier than me. At least his parents love him. My parents abandoned me to Vicky. What the hell did she do that was so bad you can't tell me?"
"If it weren't so bad we couldn't tell you, we'd tell you!" Cosmo replied. Tootie snarled and balled her fists. The room smelled of burnt ozone. She eyed the window and the pane splintered. Smirking, she pushed with her magic and the crack spread until the window was split in half but still within the frame.
"All I want is someone to love me," she said. "Why doesn't anyone ever stick around?"
"I'm sure if Deborvak could be here, he would," Wanda replied.
"Yeah, right," she snapped. "And I'm sure if I say his name one more time and hold out my training wand, he'll just show up. Because he's not avoiding me or anything."
She waved her wand and snarled his full name, adding the surname that he'd adopted with his robe's insignia. "Deborvakovik! I know you don't give a shit about me, so don't even bother to answer this summons because you don't care!"
Wanda slapped her palm to her forehead. "That's an interesting way to summon your godfather."
"He's not going to show up anyway," she snapped. "What's the point?"
Thrusting out with her magic, she shattered the window glass It cascaded onto the ground and yet, she was still angry. She raised her training wand over her head and felt it plucked from her grip. Wanda was scowling. She waved her own wand and Tootie saw an image of Deborvak, head lowered in submission, naked from the waist down, with his shoulders hunched, and covered in lacerations. The blood welled on his back and looked it had come from multiple whip and claw marks. This image faded as a woman with black hair and a silky black dress hissed and cut off the link.
"It seems to me that if he could be here, he would," she commented quietly.
"Bullshit," Tootie said. She folded her arms across her chest. "This is such fucking bullshit."
"We can keep you hidden from Jorgen for a little while, while he's distracted with Vicky," she warned, "but after that, you're on your own. Whatever your godfather's going through, maybe it'll be over by then."
"Yeah, right," she scoffed. "He doesn't love me."
"He loves you," she insisted. "He just can't be here right now."
"How many times have you said that?" she charged. "How many times have you lied to kids and told them that their parents loved them when they didn't give a shit what happened?"
Wanda's eyes narrowed. "We don't lie."
"You grant kids their every wish and act like you're so high and mighty," she retorted. "You have all this power. You must feel like gods."
"No, we don't," she replied. "I know your life has been tremendously unfair—"
"Because of you!" she snapped. "I exist because of you! And I've been miserable ever since I was born because the only reason I exist is so Juandissimo could try to get into your pants!"
"It doesn't matter how you came to be in this world," she replied. "It matters how you handle the situation. Throwing a fit and shouting isn't going to help."
"Wait, Juandissimo wanted to get into your pants?" Cosmo asked, confused.
"It's complicated," she replied.
"It's not that complicated," Tootie snorted. "He had me because he heard you were going to be connected to my family and he wanted to force you to be close to him."
Cosmo looked utterly crushed. Tootie struggled to care. Cosmo turned to his wife and a low buzz filled the room. Fuming, Tootie jumped off the bed and glared at the training wand in Wanda's hand.
Down the hall, doors slammed. Tootie paled, looked at Cosmo and Wanda, with glazed expressions on their faces, and rushed to the door. She hadn't heard Vicky coming up the stairs. Panicked, she tugged at the training wand. Wanda released it without noticing.
"Guys!" she gasped. "Vicky!"
The name broke through their communication and they gaped at her.
"Be good!" Wanda gasped and Cosmo, pale, nodded. They disappeared in a shower of fairy dust. The door slammed open. Left holding the wand and dreading whatever new tactics Vicky had putting the fairies on guard, Tootie shifted her head in her direction. Vicky was covered in mud and what looked like blood. She wore a manic grin.
"What's the matter, Tootie? You look unhappy to see me," she sang. "Don't you love your big sister?"
"What did you do to Timmy?" she croaked. Vicky advanced and Tootie held the wand out like a weapon.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied. "I didn't do anything to your precious pink hat freak."
"What did you do to Timmy?" Tootie repeated.
"Are you going to hurt me with that?" she scoffed. "It looks like a rattle."
She looked at the room with its burn marks on the windowsill, the breeze coming through the broken window, and the destroyed birdcage. A shadow moved beyond the window and out of Vicky's line of sight. Throwing back her head, Vicky laughed. Hands over her stomach, in between gasps, she panted, "You're…going…to hurt…me? With that thing?"
"Tell me what you did to Timmy!" Tootie demanded. "You hurt him!"
Vicky grinned and her eyes flashed. "He liked it."
"Bullshit," she snapped.
The grin faded and her eyes grew cold, thoughtful. She grabbed the training wand and Tootie screamed, magic bubbling through her into the wand. Breathing hard, Tootie willed the wand to appear as something more threatening, like a scythe. Vicky retreated.
"Tell me what you did!" she snapped.
"What you don't have the balls for," she countered. "Where did you get that?"
"It's none of your business," she retorted.
"You're going to fight me?" she scoffed. "Protect your beloved Timmy? He'd rather have me than you any day. And you know it."
Tootie's stomach clenched and her face was tight. A vein throbbed in her forehead. When she slashed the scythe down, the façade would disappear. Deborvak had cautioned her against confronting her sister. He said when she was older, she'd know what to do. He'd never told her what to do when she needed him and he wasn't there.
"Tell me what you did," she demanded.
Vicky's expression darkened. "These damn cats showed up and almost killed me. Turner doesn't have cats. What the fuck is going on?"
"Tell me what you did!"
Leaning forward, pushing the scythe away like it was nothing, she whispered in her ear. The wand fell and her vision faded. She heard disconnected screaming. She wasn't sure who was screaming, if she'd lunged with her powers or not. The scythe moved and she saw red. She blacked out for a few seconds.
When her vision cleared, Vicky lay on the floor in a pile of ice, Jorgen Von Strangle stood over her, and two anxious teenagers stood behind him. One had vibrant orange hair with brown tips. Her dragon earrings twisted around her ears before piercing the flesh underneath and she wore a leather skirt, split along the side, and leather vest over a black shirt. A wisp of a girl, she had a larger chest, sympathetic brown eyes, and a troubled expression. Her skin was tanned, her lips wind burned, and she twisted her hands anxiously.
The other girl had bright red hair, a single plait falling in the middle, and she wore a cut up rocker t-shirt and skintight black pleather jeans. She had a choker on her throat and her green eyes scanned the room. This girl had an oblong face, freckles under her eyes, and a touch of lipstick matching her hair. She was slightly heavier than her friend, or, perhaps the weight looked more distributed. She was muscular and her hair was cut just to her shoulders. As her friend gesticulated, the other girl flipped Jorgen off behind his back.
"Tootie DeLisle!" Jorgen thundered. Tootie smiled sheepishly.
"Look, seriously scary big dude, we've got it from here," the red head assured him. "We're Tootie's godfather's extended family."
"And where is Deborvak?" he snapped, rounding on her. The orange haired girl shrieked and latched onto the redhead.
"He's very busy," the redhead replied. The other girl nodded.
"With what?" Jorgen snapped. "What could be more important than tending to his godchild?"
"He's in trouble," Tootie said weakly. Jorgen glanced at her and then looked back at the two girls. The redhead straightened, slipping an arm around the other girl. Looking Jorgen in the eyes required looking up and her lip trembled. Her knees knocked together.
"And he couldn't inform me of this?" he snapped.
"He's been kidnapped by an evil sorceress," the orange haired girl blurted. Her friend gave her a dirty look and she shrugged. "What? He has. I know that's not what Masha says, but it's what happened."
Jorgen slammed his wand down on the floor. "Let us see what this evil sorceress has to say for herself."
"NO!" The girls cried. Black smoke swirled around the room and Tootie saw a ripple in the mirror near her bed. A woman with long black hair, tipped ears, and brown almost black eyes grinned cruelly. She wore a long black robe and her fingers, Tootie saw, had turned into claws. They had glittering blood dripping off the nails. The robe concealed her bulk and just looking at her made Tootie's insides seize. It felt like, for a second, someone had grabbed her by the throat.
"Who is summoning me?" the woman demanded. Her voice was rich and unctuous. She strode forward and, behind her, Tootie glimpsed Deborvak, beaten and bleeding, on an altar. His coloration, normally close to ruddy red, was gray. The girls whimpered.
"You have been taking one of my fairies hostage," Jorgen growled. Tootie started to inch away and he glared, arresting her with a gaze. "You are not going anywhere, except straight to Fairy World for a hearing."
Deborvak lifted his head at Jorgen's voice, moaned, and set it back down. His blood sparkled along the altar and sizzled, falling into dug out channels that ran toward a large black stone mounted into the floor. The back of his head was matted with blood and his hair had been shorn. To add to Wanda's earlier vision, he bore multiple bruises, claw marks, and whip marks, as well as having a twisted leg. Tootie's conscience nagged and she turned her head.
"Your fairy?" the woman echoed. "I don't think so. He agreed to save the dragon eggs and so he is mine."
"He has a contract with me," Jorgen snapped. "He is mine. You will return him."
"If you were so powerful, you'd take him by force," the woman said and shrugged. "I'm almost done, anyway. One more thing and you can have his body back…or whatever's left of it."
Jorgen slammed his wand and the house rocked. Vicky groaned, Tootie kicked her in the head, and she passed out again. The reflection in the mirror remained the same. Gloating, the sorceress snapped her fingers and she and Deb disappeared.
"Oh, this is so not good," the redhead groaned.
"Masha is going to flip a shit," the orange haired girl agreed.
"Think we should call her in?"
"I think at this point, if we don't, he'll die."
"Who are you two?" Jorgen said and his eyes narrowed. "Tell me before I haul you all off to Fairy World and you can answer questions before the judge!"
"Cellanastha, Deborvak's great-aunt—technically—Dad remarried and it's a long story," the orange haired girl said, bowing. "You can call me Cella."
"I'm Raelyn. Raelyn Tylae," the redhead said and inclined her head. "I'm Deborvak's…crap, give me a second. Okay, so Dad and Stef are third cousins through marriage and Deb is Stef's grandson. That makes me…sixth cousin? Yeah, that sounds about right."
"We're here because Fyraka, her dad, told us that Deb needed us to check in on Tootie," Cella added.
"It looks like our timing was a bit off," Raelyn said, wincing.
Jorgen looked murderous. Cella gasped again, latched onto her cousin, and clung tightly. The large fairy slammed his wand and the girls disappeared, as well as the room. They appeared in Fairy Court, exactly like regular court except with painted windows, a floating judge, and another fairy, with curly purple hair and preppy clothes, glaring at Jorgen from the plaintiff's position. Wherever the girls had gone, it had been to another place, because Tootie didn't see them anywhere.
"You will…" Jorgen started and then stopped, addressing Cella and Raelyn and startled to find the fairy woman in their place. "Who are you?"
"Magdalene," the fairy replied with a nasty smile. "You don't remember? You condemned me to exile for falling in love with my godson. I'm Tootie's many times great grandmother."
"I condemned you to exile for a hundred years," Jorgen replied blankly. "You've been missing for almost eight hundred."
Magdalene looked blank. Her voice was slightly shrill, not as grating as Wanda could be, but still not as pleasant (or as poisonous) as the sorceress. "You never said it was a hundred years."
"Yes, I did," Jorgen replied. "You are not supposed to be here. Tootie's condition is none of your concern."
"I'm claiming her as my descendent."
"You cannot claim a human child," Jorgen said and his expression darkened. "That was why you were exiled. She is not your daughter."
"Juandissimo doesn't want her," Magdalene said. Tootie's gut wrenched. She hadn't needed reminding.
"That is not for you to determine," he retorted.
"I want to put in a claim as her godmother," she pressed. "I can teach her."
"You are not allowed near children," he snapped. "As a condition of your punishment."
"You said I was only exiled for a hundred years," she said, haughty. She was pale and her eyes darted around.
"You were," he replied. "But you are not allowed around children permanently."
"Why?" she shot back. "Do you really think something is going to happen?"
"Now is not the time!" he thundered. "We will discuss this later!"
"We will discuss this now. Tootie has no godfather, he might die," she said and Tootie thought she said it with entirely too much relish, "and I am a surviving ancestor with enough magic to teach her. Juandissimo doesn't want the responsibility. I do."
"You are outcast from godparenting! I will not hear any more of this!" he snarled. He enacted another spell, but Magdalene remained. Her hair smoked, the prelude to bursting into flames.
"She is my last surviving relative with any real power," Magdalene growled. "I will claim her before you consign her to life with the other children you murder on a daily basis!"
"I have never murdered a fairy child," he snapped. The judge disappeared, looking uneasy, and Tootie sank to the floor. She whispered Deborvak's name, though she doubted it'd do much good.
"No, you only kill the half-breeds like Tootie!" Magdalene shot back. "You shove them into their own section of Fairy World, forbid them from interacting with anyone else, and hope that the unstable ones finish off the lot! You think half-bloods are a blemish on your impeccable record, even though you've fathered a few yourself!"
"I will not hear such slander!" he cried. "You are excused! You are returned to exile!"
"If I'm returned to exile, then I'm taking what I came for," Magdalene growled. "You couldn't stop me before."
Grabbing Tootie by the collar, she shut her eyes, concentrated, and teleported them away. Jorgen snarled and his cry echoed. Great grandmother and granddaughter landed atop a tree, Magdalene perched like a bird. Tootie grabbed a branch to keep from falling.
"Where are we?" Tootie asked, befuddled.
"Back in Dimmsdale," Magdalene said and smirked. "Jorgen is going to be royally pissed."
"Nice try," Jorgen snapped, materializing beside them. "I have a tracker on Tootie."
"So do I," Deborvak croaked. He was ashen, bleeding from multiple places, and his hands were on the ground. Magic ebbed up from the ley lines. Behind him, Tootie saw the imprint of a severe looking woman with blue hair, navy blue robes, and yellow draconic eyes incline her head. She vanished before Tootie could get a second look. Deborvak keeled over, hands still pressed against the ground.
"He's not dead," Magdalene said. "I'm disappointed."
"Funny, that's what she said too," Deb said weakly. He passed out with the ley lines still sending magic into his body and cleansing the lacerations.
"He is not dead," Jorgen observed. "But you are all still in trouble. You will be remanded to Fairy World—and I will find out what happened."
Magdalene moved closer to Deb and Jorgen changed her into a roll of duct tape. "You're all coming with me. And don't try disappearing again. Or else."
After being transformed back into her normal self, Magdalene had to suffer the injustice of hearing Jorgen scream at her granddaughter while she glared at the wall outside the courtroom. He'd banished her from the proceedings and she fumed, having nothing to look at besides Tootie's useless godfather. Jorgen had ordered Doctor Rip Studwell to tend to Deborvak—they were all under arrest pending the investigation, so they'd been remanded to the courthouse indefinitely. Magdalene didn't particularly care, since there was no one she wanted to speak to, save one fairy.
The only fairy she wanted to speak with, besides Jorgen, was Wanda, and she wasn't sure she could trust her temper long enough speak to her. Wanda had abandoned Tootie in her hour of need. Clearly, Vicky was a menace and she didn't understand why someone hadn't murdered Vicky already and called it an accident. Tootie had nearly done so earlier. Vicky incited untrained and unbalanced magic in addition to malice, and Jorgen permitted her to continue harassing her granddaughter. Wanda hadn't helped at all.
Magdalene had heard what Vicky had whispered in Tootie's ear. It was despicable Wanda and Cosmo hadn't filed an appeal to prevent that girl from getting within ten feet of their godson. Then again, that was what happened when godparents didn't get involved enough in their godchildren's lives. If Timmy had been her godson, she never would have let Vicky touch him.
Of course, the fairy responsible for preventing Vicky from harming Tootie was in no shape to help anyone. Deborvak was on an intravenous line of magic. The magic wasn't quite compatible, but it was the best they could find on short notice. To remedy the problem, they'd added another line of dragon magic. His wounds were healing, slower than usual, and she cast him a contemptuous look while she paced. The doctor popped in and out, and ignored her presence. She in turn ignored his.
Waiting gave her time to think. Aside from her son, she hadn't spent much time around her descendants. Vicky, technically, was hers as well, but she repudiated all weak humans. The last descendant showing any promise had immolated herself as well as most of London. She remembered Mary, though not with much fondness.
Tootie, however, could probably be taught without much difficulty. She had better control than Mary and functioned better in the real world. Mary's problem had been that her temper combined with mental defects caused her to react poorly under stress. From what she had witnessed of Tootie's behavior, Tootie could withstand much greater pressure before breaking.
"You're gonna wear a hole in the air," Deborvak teased and she whirled.
"This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't failed as her guardian," she snapped.
He closed his eyes. "This wouldn't have happened if someone else had been her guardian, you mean."
"Exactly," she huffed. "I know better than you what a growing fairy child needs. I don't know where you came from, but you should return."
He didn't respond; his breathing was labored and she wondered if he'd exhausted his ability to communicate. She felt a weak mental grasp, clumsy, and it withdrew.
The hospital cot rested in the middle of the room, though whether a room could be called such with no windows or doors, she didn't know. Doctor Rip Studwell had bandaged Deborvak's front and blood still seeped from the cloth. His brow was furrowed in pain.
"Why the hell won't he let me in to talk to her?" she raged. "She's mine, damn it."
"You've less of a right to her than Juandissimo," Deborvak commented quietly. He opened his eyes and they were fever bright.
"You have less of a right to her than Juandissimo!" she countered. "You left her when she needed you. You let her magic go unchecked. Why bother to be a godparent if you can't stay?"
"All very good questions," he acceded. "Definitely thoughts to consider when I'm not bleeding internally and capable of rational thought."
"Bullshit," she snapped. "You just don't want to talk to me."
He looked at her, sighed, and shut his eyes. His hand unclenched on the cot and his face relaxed when a sedative kicked in. Fuming, she resumed wearing a hole in the air. Jorgen had no right to steal another child away. His reasoning was preposterous. Simply because she'd fallen in love with one godchild didn't mean she'd fall in love with another, much less a female.
She flitted around the room and grabbed Deborvak's IV line. His hand grabbed her wrist and squeezed painfully.
"Always keep something in reserve," he cautioned her. "And my mistress is watching, so I wouldn't if I were you."
"And who would that be?" she scoffed.
"Someone you really, really don't want to meet," he replied. "Let's just say she makes Jorgen look like a puppy in terms of magic."
Shrugging, she pretended she cared and then floated away. Hunching her shoulders, she lapsed into thought. There was nothing else to do but wait for Jorgen.
"You know, if you're bored, you could always talk to me," he offered.
"I'd rather be bored," she snapped.
"Oh, ouch," he said. "I'll tell you what. I'll overlook your wishing I was dead and not give you the rejoinder Jorgen wanted to. Call it a truce."
"No, thank you," she remarked chilly.
"You're gonna be standing here, waiting, until Jorgen decides to haul you in. You can't tell me you'd rather worry yourself to death while you wait," he said.
"You must be feeling better," she snapped. "I have no interest in talking to you."
"Then why do you keep replying?" he asked, his lips quirked.
"Why do you keep talking?" she retorted.
"If you really found my company that detestable, you'd ignore me," he answered. "I refuse to believe a creature in exile for hundreds of years doesn't want to talk to a kindred spirit."
"You're not a kindred spirit," she snapped. "I have no love for fairies."
"Then we're kindred spirits," he scoffed.
She was going to ignore him. Closing her eyes, she settled on the floor in a lotus position and meditated. She expected him to interrupt but he was silent. Jorgen had ceased shouting and her heart rate slowed. Perhaps Jorgen had decided to go lightly on Tootie. What she wouldn't give to have a child again…
She missed Nathaniel with a dull ache that occasionally flared into agony. Recalcitrant and priggish he could be, he'd grown into a considerate, albeit egotistical man. She remembered the joy of carrying his child and how much magic it'd required—the last time she'd borrowed magic from Fairy World. Her banishment paled in comparison to the centuries she'd spent with him on borrowed time. His last wish had been to live with her as long as possible. He'd died so suddenly, she'd almost thought it was Jorgen's revenge…
"Magdalene!" Jorgen roared and she jolted, thinking of Nathaniel dying in her arms. She looked around guiltily and Fairy World's ruler plucked her up and transported them back to the courtroom.
Tootie had disappeared—he probably wanted to talk to them individually. She faced a brutish power-hungry giant fairy as she had before. Straightening her back, she swallowed and forced herself to be courageous. He couldn't punish her again. All he could do was continue her banishment, a foregone conclusion.
"Magdalene," Jorgen sighed. She eyed him.
"We thought you were dead."
"You wanted me to be, so you didn't have to worry about cleaning up your mistakes," she shot back.
Jorgen no longer looked angry. He looked weary and ran a hand over his face. "Do you think I enjoy punishing faeries?"
"Yes," she snapped. "You do. You enjoy punishing them for the things in which you indulge."
"I have never fallen in love with a godchild," he snapped. "I care about faeries. That is my job. I would never intentionally exile a fairy unless I thought she had severely broken Da Rules."
She looked askance and forced herself to make eye contact. "Nathaniel was different. I already explained that. I have nothing more I want to say. Go ahead and lock me up. Or whatever you do with rule breakers now."
"I have no intention of locking you up. However, you cannot serve as Tootie's godmother."
"Because her godfather is still alive?" Magdalene snapped.
"Because you are not allowed to interact with human children," he said heavily.
"I interact with human children all the time," she retorted. "What are you so afraid of?"
"You had no business growing that attached to a godchild."
"Cosmo and Wanda are attached to Timmy," she countered.
"Not like that," he replied, sighing. "Don't you see what you've done?"
"You act like it was crude; like I forced him into it. I waited for him to reach majority," she snapped.
"In the middle ages, that was far younger than it is now and even then it was inappropriate!" he countered.
"You already told me this," she hissed. "You took an hour to tell me how I'd wronged Fairy World and how I would be brought to suffer for my crimes. I've suffered for them. I've done my sentence. I want to be Tootie's godmother."
"The subject is closed. You can do anything else in Fairy World, but you cannot be a godmother," he said.
"I'm related to her," she growled.
"You are related to her very distantly," he corrected.
"This is ridiculous!" she huffed. "Cosmo and Wanda ruin the world on a daily basis. Juandissimo is sleeping with humans. Cupid shot his unrequited love with a love arrow and it didn't work, but no, you won't punish any of them. Me, I make one little mistake and you throw the book at me! This is why Cal and Daniela left!"
"Calente left for a very different reason," Jorgen remarked heavily. "Your request is denied."
He slammed his wand on the floor and she popped next to Tootie. Tootie eyed her warily and shifted a couple feet away. Magdalene felt tears prick the corners of her eyes and she swallowed a sob.
Deborvak disappeared and Magdalene curled into a ball. Pressing her face into her knees, she cried. Jorgen had tried to take Nathaniel away too, but she'd hidden him. She'd hidden all of her descendants. It wasn't fair. If only someone so well known hadn't fathered Tootie, Jorgen would never have noticed. He never punished the famous fairies.
"Are you okay?" Tootie whispered.
"May you never known heartbreak this severe, youngling," Magdalene whispered. Tootie knelt and then sat beside her. She offered her a tissue and Magdalene shook her head. Using calming exercises she'd perfected in the long centuries alone, she managed to squash it to an occasional whimper.
"You're my great grandmother, right?" she asked.
"Yes," Magdalene replied. Her voice was hoarse.
"Deb said you were spying on me. You couldn't have popped in to say hi?" she asked.
"According to Jorgen, I'm 'not permitted to have contact with human children'," she replied.
"You fell in love with your godchild, right?" Tootie said.
"Yes…" she said. "My greatest curse."
"What happened to him?"
"He died, youngling. A long time ago. I've been alone ever since," she said and huffed. "It's not like I've missed much. Jorgen is still the raging hypocrite he always was."
"Tell me about it," she grumbled. "He was going to lock me up."
"What changed his mind? He locked up his own son," she muttered.
"He did? And, uh, well…he said he wanted to see how things went. Also, he thought maybe I'd be a calming influence on Timmy," she replied. "Wait, Jorgen has a son?"
"An indiscretion with a human woman, not a child," she answered. "I don't see the difference."
"You don't see the difference between a child and an adult?" she asked, befuddled. "Uh…"
"I don't see why he gets away with these things and I don't! Your father used magic to force himself on your mother and he doesn't get punished! My godson falls in love with me and it's the crime of the millennia!" she snarled.
"Juandissimo's indiscretions will be dealt with," Jorgen snapped, holding an unconscious Deb in his arms. At Tootie's querying look, he said, "There was no point in questioning him. He is not well enough to hold a conversation."
When Jorgen wasn't looking, Deb winked at Tootie. Tootie pressed her lips together and held a hand over her mouth.
"When?" Magdalene snapped. "When you're done punishing everyone else? When it suits you?"
Jorgen glared, though fatigue undercut his irritation. "Cosmo and Wanda have been punished for their rule breaking. No one is exempt from Da Rules."
"No, you just alter them to suit the ones you like best," she shot back. "One godchild, Jorgen. I fell in love with one boy."
"You fell in love with a twelve year old boy! A child!" he snapped.
"He wasn't a child to me!" she replied.
A heavy silence followed. Tootie bit her lower lip and Deb looked troubled.
"You three will remain in Fairy World until I have finished conducting my investigation," he repeated and held his wand, poised to slam it down again.
"And you'll just let this delinquent cater to my granddaughter? Like that?" she snapped.
"He is on probation while I speak to his family about what happened," Jorgen replied. "Now, are you finished?"
Magdalene straightened her spine and glowered. "I want to talk to Cosmo and Wanda."
"You are to speak to no one," he ordered. "Good night!"
Slamming his wand down hard enough for the courthouse to shake, he transported them to a small house on the outskirts of Fairy World. It didn't matter that this house had actual doors and windows. Everywhere in Fairy World was a prison.