Jak lay with his feet in the grass, his head pillowed on the root of an old maple. The fight had been brief. He and Nihlo had been parrying with their knives, and his cousin had nicked Jak’s arm just above the elbow. A moment later, Jak was sprawled on the ground, as weak as a newborn kitten. The fast-acting poison on Nihlo’s blade had left Jak fully conscious, yet feeling as detached as if his emotions belonged to someone else. It also left him unable to do more than blink while Nihlo wondered aloud how long he’d have to wait for the boar goblin to bring Tamisin back. And then the goblin was back, tearing through the grass, whimpering that he’d seen a lamia. A moment later they had fled into the forest, leaving Jak to the mercy of the denizens of the sea.
Then the cats returned, licking his face and brushing against him. He couldn’t move when one rubbed his mouth, leaving him with loose fur on his lips and in his nose. And then the cats ran off too.
The grass swooshed in the sea just past his feet. Someone was coming. Jak immediately recognised the sound for what it was, having spent many sleepless nights as a child imagining what the lamia’s approach would be like. When he heard Tamisin talking as well, he decided that the poison was making him hallucinate. He was sure that if his mind had been clearer, he would have felt guilty for not having told Tamisin about any number of things – the lamias, his mission to get her, and how he had never meant her any harm. He would have felt sad too, for she was most likely dead by now.
“Jak!” cried his hallucination, sounding exactly like Tamisin.
A few seconds passed while he went cross-eyed, staring at the praying mantis that had come to investigate his nose. Then a strong hand gripped his shoulder and flipped him on to his back. “He’th thtill alive,” said a beautiful woman with long dark hair, who, strangely enough, had her lips pulled over her teeth so at first he thought she didn’t have any.
“Oh, Jak, I was so frightened. I thought you were dead!” exclaimed Tamisin’s voice, and he felt two warm hands cradle his cheeks and turn his head to the side, where, to Jak’s great joy, he could actually see her face. He thought she was the loveliest sight he had ever seen, and he would have told her so if only he could get his mouth to work. Somehow, even blinking was getting difficult. In a halfhearted way, Jak wondered how long it would take his eyeballs to dry out if he could no longer blink.
Some not-too-gentle fingers poked Jak’s arm. “He’th been poithoned,” said the dark-haired woman. “Thee that blue thtuff? He’ll be dead in a few minuteth if we don’t do thomething.”
Jak watched as Tamisin turned to look at the woman. She is so beautiful, he thought and wondered why she was starting to cry.
“Do you have any ideas?” Tamisin asked the woman.
“Don’t look at me,” the woman replied. “I know how to put poithon in, not take it out.”
“You’re being so brave, Jak,” Tamisin said, turning back to gaze into his eyes and brush the ants from his face. “I was furious when I thought you’d tricked me, but I see now that you would give your life for me. You never meant to hurt me, I’m sure of it. I have to do something to help you. Maybe I can draw the poison out with my lips.”
“That’th a terrible idea!” said the woman. “Then you’ll both be dead and I won’t have any new friendth.”
Tamisin’s face lit up as she looked at the woman, making Jak happy in a distant sort of way that she no longer looked so sad. “New friends? That’s it! I know what we should do! I don’t mean to be rude, but would you mind waiting in the sea? I’m going to call someone and I don’t want to scare him off.”
“Thure,” said the woman. “But I’ll be right here if you need me.”
Tamisin frowned as she waited for the woman to leave. “What was his name?” she murmured. “Oh, yes.” Raising her head, she turned to face the forest and called out in a loud, clear voice, “Herbert! I need you!”
“It’s about time,” said a voice from somewhere behind Jak.
A twig snapped in the forest and Jak thought that Tamisin looked surprised. “You’re already here?” she said. “How did you know that I needed you?”
Jak couldn’t see the newcomer, but he heard him snort and say, “I’ve been waiting here for you ever since you left the forest. I knew you’d come back sooner or later. The attraction between us is too strong for you to stay away.”
It occurred to Jak that he knew who it was; only a unicorn would talk like that, and they had met one that very day. If he could have moved, Jak would have stood up and put the overdressed horse in its place.
“There’s no attraction,” Tamisin said. “I need you to –”
“You couldn’t get along without me, could you? I must admit, I am a fine specimen of unicorn flesh. My mother always told me, ‘Lester’ – that’s my brother’s name, but she never could tell us apart – ‘Lester,’ she’d say, ‘you’re a fine –’”
“Would you please just listen to me?” said Tamisin. “I need you to help my friend, please. He has poison in him and we have to get it out.”
Jak could hear the unicorn coming towards him and suddenly he was there, breathing into his face. “Say, isn’t this the goblin boy who was so rude to me?” said Herbert. “I don’t want to touch him. Look at his eyes. I think he wants to hurt me.”
Tamisin frowned at the unicorn. “Don’t be ridiculous. He can’t even move. He’s not going to do anything to you. Please, just bend down and touch him with your horn or whatever it is you do. And hurry. He doesn’t have much time.”
There was a swooshing sound in the sea. “Ith he better yet?” called the woman.
The unicorn gasped and his eyes seemed to glaze over. “Who is that enchanting creature?” he whispered out of the corner of his mouth. “Is she a friend of yours?”
“I guess you could say that,” Tamisin said. “I’ll introduce you if you’ll tap Jak with your horn.”
“Yeah, yeah, a light tap,” said the unicorn. Sparing Jak only the briefest of glances, he bopped him on the head with his horn before turning back to the woman.
There was a tingling sensation in Jak’s arms and legs. His hands and feet felt as if they were on fire. He wondered if this was another part of the hallucination or if he was about to die.
The unicorn was making soulful eyes at the woman when Tamisin asked him, “Are you afraid of snakes?”
“No,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
Tamisin grinned. “It doesn’t matter. Herbert, I’d like you to meet my friend . . . I’m sorry, I never did get your name.”
“Lamia Lou,” said the woman, and Jak could hear her slithering out of the grass. Herbert’s only reaction was to wuffle his lips and take a step closer.
“Hello, Herbert,” Lamia Lou said.
“Hello, gorgeous!” said the unicorn, his brown eyes flashing.
Just before he passed out, Jak decided that he had been hallucinating after all.
Jak had come to while Tamisin was telling the lamia that they were trying to reach the fairies’ forest by circling the sea. The snake woman had insisted that she would take them across it herself. They’d waited while she bid Herbert, the unicorn, a heartfelt farewell. Jak could barely stand when the lamia offered to let them ride on her snaky tail and Tamisin had to help him climb on, but he felt a lot better when Tamisin climbed on behind him and wrapped her arms around him. She’d told him that she was still annoyed at him, but he was too fuzzy-headed to worry about it. Nor did he worry about Tobi, who had disappeared during Jak’s fight with Nihlo. No matter what happened, Tobi always seemed to reappear, unhurt.
If Jak had felt stronger, he would have found the beginning of their trip across the sea exciting as the grass flashed past and birds shot into the sky at their approach. By the time his strength returned enough that he was able to sit up on his own, he realised that he couldn’t see above the grass, and so had no way to judge time or distance. He grew bored even though the snake woman was very good-natured, telling them about the birds flying above them, the creatures that lived in the grass, and, eventually, what she could see of the forest ahead. She didn’t stop to let them off until she was within easy walking distance of the Old Forest, but she left as soon as Jak and Tamisin slid off her back.
Now that they’d reached the forest where the fairies lived, Tamisin began to look nervous. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” she said. “What am I supposed to do – walk in and say, ‘Hi, I’m part fairy. I need the queen’s protection because I have goblins chasing me’?”
“Something like that,” said Jak. “We don’t have much choice.”
Tamisin shrugged. “I suppose. It’s getting late though. It’ll be dark in a few hours. Why don’t we come back and see her tomorrow?”
“We’ve come all this way to see her and we’re not turning away now. Besides,” Jak said, glancing back the way they’d come, “our ride just left.”
Although the forest fronted the rippling grass for as far as they could see, there weren’t very many places where someone could enter the fairies’ domain. The trees grew so close together that they resembled a solid wall of bark and leaves. From where Jak and Tamisin stood, it looked as if there was only one opening.
They waded through the shorter grass that lapped at the shoreline. As they drew closer, they could see that a path led into the forest. They had scarcely set foot on the path when a hideous bearlike monster jumped out from behind a tree and roared at them. It was big and burly and half covered with a dense coat of fur. Its face was so contorted that its eyes were nearly shut. Tamisin screamed and jumped back when the monster gnashed its fangs and flailed at her with its horrible claws, but Jak wasn’t as easily intimidated.
“Bruno, is that you?” he asked, peering at the monster.
The monster unscrunched its terrifying face and opened one eye wider, revealing a warm brown colour. “Jak?” it said, opening the other eye. Suddenly it looked a lot friendlier. “Hey there! Good to see you’re back.”
“What are you doing here?” asked Jak.
Bruno rubbed one of his bearlike ears and grunted. “I’m a guard now. They offered me the job right after I left the island. Who’s your friend?”
“What are you doing?” grated a gnome with a white beard and red cheeks as he stepped out from behind a tree. The pair of spectacles dangling from a string tied around his neck bounced against his chest as he walked. Crossing his arms over his potbelly, he planted his feet and glared at Bruno. “You’re supposed to scare away intruders, not start a conversation!”
“Sorry, Mr Leadless,” grumbled Bruno. “I’ll do better next time.”
The little man’s face flamed red and a vein bulged in his forehead. “There will be no next time if you don’t do better this time! Now try again.”
“But Jak here is an old friend of mine and . . .”
“I don’t care if he’s your great-aunt Peachbottom. Do your job and scare him off!”
“Actually,” said Jak, “we’re here to see the queen.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so?” the gnome said. “That makes you just like everybody else! Bruno?”
“Sorry, guys. Gotta do my job.” The bear goblin drew himself up to his full height so that he towered over them. Taking a deep breath, he waved his paws in the air, scrunched his face to make it look hideous again, and roared so loudly that Jak’s ears hurt.
“What’s the meaning of this?” A shirtless man wearing shaggy white trousers popped out from behind a tree. Tamisin found herself staring when she realised that he wasn’t really a man, but a satyr, just like she’d seen in books. Small horns protruded through his curly hair, and his legs resembled a goat’s, angled backwards and ending in the same kind of split hooves. A set of pan pipes dangled from a strip of leather tied around his neck.
“It’s the goblin’s fault,” grumbled Leadless. “He wasn’t doing his job.”
“That may be so, but it’s your responsibility to keep out . . .” The satyr’s voice trailed off when a swarm of twinkling lights darted out of the forest to flutter around him. They must have said something, because he stopped to listen, then glanced at Tamisin. “Well, I’ll be . . . ,” he said. Reaching for his pan pipes, he played a short melody. A moment later another tune answered his from somewhere in the forest. “You may pass,” the satyr told Tamisin. “But the goblin has to stay here.”
“You mean me?” Bruno asked, scratching his head.
“No,” said Jak. “He means me.”
“Why are you letting her go?” said the gnome. “You know the rules. No unexpected guests without official business may pass unless –”
“The girl is expected,” said the satyr. “If you’d wear your spectacles, you’d understand why.”
“What do my spectacles have to do with anything?” the gnome asked even as he set them on his nose. “The girl is just . . . Oh, my!” he said, and his ruddy cheeks turned even redder.
“But I don’t want to go without Jak,” protested Tamisin.
“Go ahead,” Jak said. “I’ll wait right here.”
The satyr gestured to Tamisin. “The fairies will take you where you need to go.”
“Where is that?” Tamisin asked as the twinkling lights surrounded her.
“To talk to Titania, of course,” said the satyr. “Isn’t that who you came to see? Now go! Go! We’ll watch your goblin!”
Although Tamisin didn’t like going into the fairy forest without Jak, the fairies didn’t give her time to think about it. Darting from tree to tree, they moved so quickly that she had to run to keep up. At first all she could see of them were bright lights the size of fireflies, but the deeper they led her into the forest, the darker it became and the better she could see the tiny beings. Soon she was able to discern individual clothes and faces. Their wings were still a blur, however, and it hurt her eyes to look at them because they seemed to be the source of the fairies’ light.
At first they didn’t encounter anyone, but after many twists and turns they saw a water nymph rearranging pond lilies in a small lake. Another turn in the path and Tamisin saw a woman with brown skin and hair like willow leaves conversing with a birch tree. Then a pale nymph with leafy hair leaned out of the tree and turned to watch her.
Still following the fairies, Tamisin saw one amazing creature after another. She saw goblins who looked like birds and animals cooking food over fires. A woman with pure white skin, fiery red eyes and a wild halo of white hair was making daisy chains beside an enormous woman with two heads. Fairies as big as humans tended flowers, mended clothes and collected fallen leaves. Although Tamisin tried not to stare, everyone stared at her as if she were something extraordinary.
The further they went into the forest, the prettier it became. Huge shade trees towered over a profusion of their smaller cousins, which in turn stood guard over such a variety of shrubs and flowers that Tamisin was amazed. Everything that could bloom seemed to be doing so at once, filling the air with a heavy perfume.
Tamisin was rounding an enormous group of rhododendrons covered in purplish-pink blossoms when Tobi, head down and muttering to himself, ran into her. The little goblin stumbled and fell flat on his back. Tamisin reached down to help him, but he brushed off her hand, declaring in an annoyed voice that people should watch where they’re going. And then he looked at her face and his jaw dropped. “Tamisin!” he said even as his gaze darted from shrub to path to shrub again, as if looking for somewhere to hide. “Excuse, pardon, forgive me. I didn’t mean to run into ya like that.”
“Tobi!” said Tamisin. “What are you doing here? Did you come to see the queen?”
“Who? Me? Of course not! Why would the likes of me be visiting the queen, Her Majesty, Titania? No, I was just passing through, going by, in the neighbourhood. Nothing to do with the queen. Sorry, I’ve, uh, got an important engagement, meeting, errand . . . Gotta run!” Tamisin stepped aside as Tobi scurried past, giving her one last furtive glance before disappearing behind the shrubs.
“I wonder what that was all about,” Tamisin murmured. “He seemed awfully nervous.”
Swooping around her in a brilliant, twinkling mass, the little fairies herded Tamisin into a mossy glade. She was halfway across before she saw the throne. Made of twisted branches still growing and in leaf, the back of the throne rose higher than her head and bore a crown of snow-white blossoms. Goblin and fairy women as well as a group of nymphs were gathered near it, fussing over the fairy standing serenely in their midst. While one brushed her golden hair with a nettle brush, others polished her nails with pink rose petals or held up dresses for her approval. She had turned away to stroke the sleeve of a misty grey dress when Tamisin approached.
“Why did you come back, Tobianthicus?” the fairy queen asked without looking up. “You already gave me your report.” It wasn’t until a group of Tamisin’s fairy escorts broke away, darting towards the queen in an agitated frenzy of twinkling lights, that Titania turned her head. Seeing Tamisin, Titania waved her hand, dismissing her attendants and the tiny fairies.
“Come closer, my dear,” the queen said in a voice as soft as a summer breeze and as sweet as the violets growing beneath her feet.
Tamisin approached the throne, drawn by her own curiosity as much as by the queen’s command. The fairy queen was the most beautiful person Tamisin had ever seen. Her skin was flawless, her features were delicate and well proportioned, and her hair cascaded down her back in a river of curls. Although she was truly lovely, it wasn’t her beauty that made Tamisin stop and stare.
Tamisin had been prepared for a lot of things when she met the fairy queen. She’d expected her to be beautiful, delicate and otherworldly in ways she couldn’t even imagine. Although Titania was all of those things, what Tamisin didn’t expect was that looking at the fairy queen was a lot like looking at herself.
Like Tamisin, the queen had hair the colour of sunlight and slightly tilted eyes of a brilliant turquoise. Although their noses were equally slim and straight, Tamisin’s mouth was fuller, her chin not quite so pointed. The two faces might have been copies of each other, only Tamisin’s was more substantial and . . . human.
“What . . . I mean, how . . . ,” Tamisin began, pressing her hand to her cheek.
“Tobianthicus was right,” Titania said. “The resemblance is remarkable. I couldn’t deny who you are even if I’d wanted to. It’s odd though. I never expected to see you again, but now that you’re here I couldn’t be happier. Welcome home, Tamisin, my very own little girl.”
“What are you saying?” asked Tamisin. “I admit there is some similarity, but . . .”
“You’re my daughter, Tamisin. Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood. I gave birth to you . . . Who were those people who took you in?”
“The Warners,” said Tamisin in a high, thin voice that she barely recognised as her own.
Titania nodded. “That’s right. The human lawyer told us but it seems so long ago.”
Tamisin wasn’t thinking when she replied, “My mother says it seems just like yesterday.”
“But I’m your mother!” Titania said, sounding annoyed. “I told you that. The Warners took care of you only because I couldn’t. They weren’t your real parents. Now that you’re here with me I want you to forget all about those other people. Tell me, is there anything you want to know? Anything at all?”
“There’s a lot, actually,” said Tamisin. “If you were my mother, and I must admit, you look like you must be, why didn’t you want me? Why didn’t you raise me yourself? Did you give me away or did someone steal me from you? And if they stole me, why didn’t you come looking for me?”
“Those weren’t at all the kinds of questions that I meant. Don’t you want to know about me? I am the fairy queen, after all. Very well then – if anyone is going to ask questions, I should be the first. How did you learn that you were not an ordinary human?”
“It was . . . everything. It was my ears and my spreckles and my dancing and the fairies and the way the goblins kept finding me and then it was my wings and . . .”
“Did you say wings?” said the queen, frowning ever so slightly. “I had no idea. You had no fairy qualities at all when I sent you away. No matter. Apparently your fairy side has come forth more than I anticipated. I sent you to the humans thinking you would fit in with them. I never intended for you to return to me. Weren’t you happy there?”
“I was very happy,” said Tamisin. “But I’ve always known I didn’t belong, that I was different. I know a lot of girls feel that way, but my differences were bigger than most and a lot more obvious. And now I’d like to ask you a question if I may.”
Titania sighed. “What would you like to know?”
“Why did you send me away? Didn’t you want me here? Didn’t you want me at all?”
“What you mean to say is, didn’t I love you? A perfectly reasonable question, considering the circumstances. Yes, I suppose I did, but it was obvious from the start that I couldn’t keep you. You were a red, squalling thing, unlike normal fairy babies, who are pink-cheeked and happy from the moment they are born. Yet even so I would have kept you by my side if things had been different. I had conceived you through my husband’s trickery, and having you nearby kept me from forgiving him, which I needed to do for the good of our kingdom. We have our quarrels, Oberon and I, but we are strongest when we are together.”
“So you sent me away so you could stop fighting?”
“In part, but also to keep you safe. Your father was a human, made to look like a donkey goblin on the night of your conception. I fell in love with him, or thought I did, through magic that was soon reversed. It was many months before I knew that I carried a child, but time passes differently in the human world, and your father had grown old and died by then. You would have gone to him had he still lived.”
“That story sounds awfully familiar,” said Tamisin.
“I believe a human named Shakespeare once included it in one of his tales. He took great liberty in the retelling, embellishing that which should not have been made public knowledge. I was not pleased, but he was only human and the fey rarely take humans’ stories seriously.”
“Why should it matter to them?”
“By the time you were born, much had changed in the human world, yet too much had stayed the same here. The king and I had conquered the goblins years before and they have been rebellious ever since. Most goblins abhor humans, which I regret to say is a common feeling among the fey. Should the goblins have learned that I had borne the daughter of a human, they would have seen it as just cause to take up arms against me. Even more so if they had known that the human had resembled a goblin when I knew him; they would have considered it a gross insult. Goblins would have killed you, or worse, had I kept you here. You can see that I sent you away for your own good.”
“Yeah . . . ,” Tamisin said. “You were thinking only of me.” She sat down a few feet from the throne even though she was pretty sure she was supposed to remain standing in the presence of royalty. Somehow she no longer cared. Her real mother had just told her that she’d have been an embarrassment if she’d stayed . . . an inconvenience, a political disaster, a –
“I understand that this is a great deal to comprehend all at once,” Titania said.
“Especially since I’m only human,” muttered Tamisin.
Titania appeared to be relieved that Tamisin understood. “Indeed,” she said, nodding.
“Except I’m not!” said Tamisin. “My life would have been so much easier if I were! You sent me to live with people who couldn’t possibly understand what it was like to be part fairy. I had no idea what it meant when I changed and no one else did either. There’ve been times I was convinced that I was going crazy! Didn’t it ever occur to you to care about what my life was like? You made me, then threw me away like I was a shoe that didn’t fit!”
“The decision was not as easy as that, I assure you,” said the queen.
“Sorry I made your life difficult,” Tamisin said. She knew that she shouldn’t talk to the queen of the fairies that way, but the woman was also her mother.
“You need not apologise,” said Titania, “although your coming here was ill advised. Everything that I was hoping to avoid when I sent you away is coming to fruition. Your return could not have come at a worse time. Oberon and I have quarrelled again. Even now he is on the shores of the Southern Sea. In his absence my forces are depleted, as he has taken half our troops with him. There are rumours that the goblins are planning an uprising. I am certain that they know of Oberon’s absence and hope to take advantage of it, especially now that you’ve fuelled their anger with your presence.”
“But the goblins brought me here!”
Titania reached out to pat her on the head. “Do not blame yourself. You had no way of knowing.”
“I wanted to come and meet you, but I think it would be best if I went home now. I guess I fit in there better than I do here.”
“If only you had realised that sooner,” said Titania, “but it is already too late. Many have seen your arrival and word has spread. My scouts tell me that goblins are looking for you even now. Should you leave this forest, you will be captured and used against me. I cannot let that happen. This will be your new home, Tamisin, for better or for worse.”
Tamisin’s jaw dropped. “You mean I have to stay here?”
“Don’t say it as if I’m imposing a terrible sentence on you. I’m offering you a home that most girls would give anything for. You’ll have the freedom to do whatever you want, provided you stay in the Old Forest. You’ll have handmaidens at your beck and call to bring you the best of everything the fey can provide. Unlike in the human world, you’ll never have to go to school, and you’ll answer to no one but me.”
“I can never see my friends or family again?”
“I am your family now, Tamisin. You have no need of anyone else.”