False Move – 12a
Author: Wildbow

False Move – 12a | Pale

Cherrypop.

What?  Cherrypop looked around wildly.

Cherrypop.

Snowdrop?  But Snowdrop was in there, wearing a stupid dress with her hair done all stupid.

Cherrypop.

Was this Faerie stupidness?  Cherrypop hugged her best rock to her chest, gnawing on her lip.

Outside the circle, the centipede guy watched with arms folded, occasionally tilting his head to one angle or the next, long hair dropping down to graze his shoulders as he did.

“Granted,” he murmured, before sighing.

Inside the circle, Faerie were milling around, shuffling, guards closing in on the girls.  Peckersnot was pressed against the barrier like a loser, beating his hands against the invincible wall.

The faerie were talking inside the ring, voices muffled.

Snowdrop looked freaked out.  Eyes wide, hair standing up a little.  Avery had her fingers all mingled together at the back of her head, the lengths of her forearms covering her ears.

“Peckersnot!” Verona shrieked.  The sound was muffled, but she was loud and clear, somehow.  She bent over at the waist from the effort and force of the shout, “Cherrypop!”

That’s me!

“Doglick!  Tatty!”

The other goblins perked up as their names were called.

“Protect Lucy’s mom!”

“Protect my mom!”  Lucy’s voice was way harder to hear.

Snowdrop couldn’t see Cherry, but Cherry could see Snowdrop.  Could see the alarm and concern.  No.  She had to-

“We gotta,” Tatty said.

Cherrypop puffed up, ready to refuse on instinct.  Then she looked to Snowdrop and remembered.  Tatty looked down at Peckersnot.  “We swore.”

Peckersnot nodded.

“Let’s do it!  I’ll lead the way!” Cherry shouted, pumping her fist in the air.

“Idiot,” Tatty said.

“Do you know where Lucy and Verona are staying?” Tatty asked, sneering.

Cherrypop hesitated, still holding her fist in the air.  Off to the side, Peckersnot slapped his chest a few times to get their attention, then pointed.

“Let’s go.  Doglick, you’re faster, go get Toad,” Tatty said.  “Snotty boo, you show us the way.  Bang, you do what I say.  I’ll make the plans-”

Peckersnot’s eye, bloodshot with a gouge in the orb, widened a bit at that last part.

“-you lot comin’?” Tatty asked Flops.  The unit of a goblin, no taller than Gashwad, but all density.  He was jowled and morose, bunny ears chewed up like he’d tried to get them shorter.

“Protecting her,” Flops said, sullen.

“If you come you can help mo-”

“No,” Flops said, before taking about five shuffling steps to rotate ninety degrees, facing the circle with the girls, Liberty, and all the stupid Faerie inside.

“-That leaves Cherry…” Tatty said, looking at Cherry.  “Whatever.  Let’s go.”

They moved as a group.  Being a group made it easier to move past certain things, like pipes and power lines.  Ken was helping some, but she didn’t really understand how that worked.  She just knew that they could go around more and she had more places to hang with Snowdrop.

Stupid Peckersnot, knowing things.  Overrated.  Got all scratched up and gnawed on by a cat.  Used to be uncircumcised until an errant slash of a cat’s claw mostly altered that.  That would never happen to her.  He couldn’t even move his eyeball and he counted more than Cherry did.

Stupid, awful.

She hurried to keep up with the other two, rock tucked into armpit, elbow, and the side of her ribs.

Huffing, she started to fall behind, her muscles tiring out, straining.

This was like when she and Snowdrop had made a game of eating random berries to see which were poisonous, they’d found out the orange-red berries that grew in the ditch by the old house with the overflowing bird feeder gave them the shits.  So they’d got as many berries as they could and dropped them into Gashwad’s mouth while he slept, watching as he ate and swallowed them one by one.  When he’d started to wake up because Cherry was giggling too much, Snow had dumped as many berries as she could into his mouth and Cherry had two-handed shoved them down back into his throat.

They’d run away, while he’d chased them with a rusty knife, laughing every time they could hear his stomach making noises.

Now Snowdrop was stuck in there with shitty Faerie and she wanted them to save Lucy’s mother, which didn’t make sense but Snowdrop looked scared.

Snow looking scared?  That scared Cherry.  If she couldn’t help fix this somehow, starting by doing what Snowdrop wanted, then maybe there was a chance they’d never get to do the shittyberry thing to Gashwad again.

The last time even running around had been this hard had been when she’d eaten the shittyberries.  Goblins didn’t usually die from that sort of thing, but she felt like she was going to die now.  Her heart pounded in her chest like it never had, and her muscles were starting to feel like they were going to break forever with every step forward.

She didn’t feel like she was running with legs and feet, now, but legs and ankles.  Then thighs, just had to move her thigh, get her leg forward-

She wheezed.

“Other side of the water?” Tatty asked Peckersnot.

Peckersnot nodded.

“There’s a goblin hole that way, we’ll go under,” Tatty said, pointing.

Peckersnot nodded again, with vigor.

Cherry, stubborn, panting for breath, did not want to follow, did not want to run all the way up to downtown, go all the way down the goblin hole, back up, and then over to wherever they were going.

Huffing for breath, hurting, Cherrypop watched as they ran off.

Nah.  She’d sit, catch her breath…

She plunked herself down on the slope.

They had been somewhere near here when Snowdrop had gotten up, holding a finger to her mouth, become an opossum, best animal, and went to the road, lying there on her back.

Someone had stopped their car, come up to her, and she’d stopped playing dead, hissing and approaching them.  While he’d been freaking out, Cherry had stolen a bag of chips from the car, nearly getting her head bitten off by the dog that was strapped into the backseat.

So funny.  Snowdrop had said the chips were easy on her conscience which made a lot of sense because the guy had been a doofus and he’d really needed a lesson about not leaving his car door open like that.  If Cherry had been a human or if she’d been a little taller she could have driven away in the car.  But Snowdrop had talked about how at least the guy wouldn’t be able to tell anyone anything about what had happened and then she’d had some chips.

Those had been good chips.

To get more chips, she had to get up.  She made herself get up, grunting, making sure to grab her best rock.  A rock she’d taken from a Faerie.

She wouldn’t go up and under and around.  No.  The fastest way to get somewhere was… a rocket?  No, she didn’t have rockets.

She paced a bit, until her legs got tired and she had to sit down again.  It was easier to think while sitting and not moving.

The fastest way was a straight line.  She’d had an argument with Bluntmunch about that, because zig-zagging felt faster.

The fastest way from here to there was… she looked at the river.  The water was lower than usual, which was great because sometimes there’d be fish and little froglets hopping around the shore, and they were easy meals.

She made her way down the grassy slope, bringing her rock, and then walked over the shore.  A lot of it was chippy rock, flat and easy to break off into splinters, but the water rubbed it down to smooth, curved edges, and parts were slippery with slime.  When the wind changed and water sloshed over the higher parts, some of that water would be coming up as high as her waist.

She’d get there first.  She’d make her way to wherever she was going and show up Snotface and Tatty and prove she knew better about stuff because she’d lived here most of her life.

She stuck her arm out, rock tucked under one arm, and walked along the highest bits of rock, balancing.  Walking was tiring and it got more tiring fast, as she concentrated more.  She ducked low as a little bit of wave crashed nearby, her feet skidding on rock-slime and smooth, wet rock before she caught herself.

She liked slime almost as much as she liked jagged rocks, and she liked jagged rocks way less than she liked Snowdrop.  She’d have to come back and get some.  After saving her friend.

Grunting with every footstep, she made her way across the high part of the river.  It was like weights were tied to her ankles.  She slipped, belly-flopped onto wet rock, and then because she was tired, let herself slip down a few more inches while gathering her strength, before she made the hard climb back up to the peak.

A wave slapped her, whole-body, water riding up her legs, butt, and back to make her spiral out, her head and the super rock keeping her in place while the rest of her flopped over and went over the other side of the rock.  She scrambled to catch herself, then panted for breath.  Every muscle hurt, and breathing was a chore.

For all her life she had been weak and stupid.  For all her life she’d been small.  If that wasn’t bad enough, all her life, she’d been reminded of those things over and over again.

Hugging her rock, she trudged forward, foot slipping twice before she found a way to put her foot forward and keep it there.  Her knees trembled with her own weight and the struggle of moving.

Over and over again she’d had goblins and other goblin-like things pick fights with her and win.  Sometimes they’d won a lot and she’d been hurt and she’d take days or weeks to get better.  Or she’d pick fights but she’d still lose.  With goblins, and goblin-like things and squirrels, birds, and cigarettes.

The water blocked the way.  A steady stream.  Running water wasn’t good for goblins.  Water running through pipes was worse than river water but this was a bad thing that would sap all the strength from her, and she was already feeling especially weak.

She’d made it a few feet across the rocks, and as she stood there in the gloom, the rest of the town bright while the water and surrounding shores weren’t, she felt very alone.

All she’d wanted was a crew.  Goblins to run around with, goblins her size to play with and have fun with.  People to share food with and play pranks on.  She could fight to be in charge and some days she could win and be the boss.  She could be mean or be nice depending on what she wanted and she’d put up with others doing the same.  If she wanted she could try to decide on a thing like being scary or being nice all the time and if she was good at it then goblins might keep her in charge.  That would be great.

She shivered despite the warm summer day, and made the leap with tired legs.  She hit the rock with chin, ribs, and one elbow, the cube of rock she was holding against her other side digging into her other armpit.  Her teeth clacked shut, stunning her for a moment, and her legs went in the water, going numb.

With one claw, she dug claw-tips into rock and dragged herself forward an inch.  She pushed the perfect rock up the bit of exposed riverbed she’d flopped onto and then used her other claw to drag herself up.

After a minute she’d gotten her legs out of the water enough to use her knees.  She crawled up and curled around her rock to keep it from being washed away.

Another little while to gather her strength.  To get strong, to be brave.

She’d tried a lot of things to be impressive, cool, badass, or dangerous.  She’d picked fights she shouldn’t and taken dares she shouldn’t and it had been obvious why she shouldn’t after, always after.  She wasn’t good at working out the reasons why before, because she’d get excited.

She wanted to win, she wanted to have her moments.  Instead, the world told her she was stupid.  A brain like a fart’s shadow on underwear.

Shivering, she straightened up on the crest of rock that stood out from the lightly frothing and roiling water.  She wobbled and nearly tipped into the water.

Had there been this much water ahead of her before?  If there had, she hadn’t seen it.

This wouldn’t be so hard if she wasn’t so small.  Goblins were always better off if they were big.  But she ate and she ate and she even ate things she didn’t like to feed her body.  She smashed rocks against rocks to get stronger and she barely grew.

She’d tried attaching herself to a big goblin, joining a group of five or six goblins like her and Peckersnot who brought him shiny things and told stories and did what he said, in exchange for being protected.  He’d taken the things she’d brought and then two days later he’d stepped on her and broken her leg and hip and he hadn’t cared.  She’d dragged herself into a safe dark space and waited there for a long time until she could hobble out and go get food and stuff.

Broken legs and hips weren’t a big deal and could even be funny sometimes but the fact she’d thought she had a gang and a protector and then she hadn’t anymore wasn’t funny at all.

She dragged numb legs forwards, walking on a sharper ridge.

There weren’t any good ways to jump.  There were rocks that kind of stuck up and there were better parts that had shallow water running over them.

She shook her head to remind herself what she was doing, and the thoughts stuck there.  Snowdrop was one thought, and the fact that she had to cross was another.  She could connect the dots: Snowdrop was on the far side of the shore.  Somewhere.

She’d found Toadswallow and Bluntmunch and Toadswallow was teaching Bluntmunch to work with kids and teach them goblin things, and Bluntmunch was bored enough to agree and listen.  Gashwad was around too, and Gashwad didn’t care about that crap so he hadn’t changed his name and mostly went around patrolling, scaring small woodland animals and trying to pick fights with bigger ones.  Toadswallow was smart and Bluntmunch was big and Gashwad was mean and they accepted her.  They picked on her and made fun of her sometimes, but that was fair.  She tried to pick on them and make fun of them but most of that didn’t go that great.

Toadswallow had offered to teach her and she’d agreed.  It wasn’t a gang like Tatty had but it was something.  She’d had food and stuff to do and she could lie in the sun and be warm and all she had to do was pretend to listen to Toadswallow.  He had even named her.

Then Snowdrop had showed up.

She could remember hanging out with Snowdrop, pouring strawberry milk into Snowdrop’s mouth while she slept.  Snowdrop had woken up and started laughing, and it had come out of her nose.  Cherrypop had laughed so hard her vision had gone fuzzy at the edges.  She’d said- what had Drop said?  That actually tasted good.  You made milk decent.

She’d made sure to give Snowdrop her milk in cartons and glasses ever since.  She wouldn’t make that mistake again.  It was too fun to bully Snow by making her chug different flavors of milk.

With Snowdrop she’d pulled the fork stunt and it had worked.  It had been perfect in every way and everyone had been surprised.

With Snowdrop everything worked out better.

With her friend around, even sitting and smacking stuff together while making up a smacking song was ten times more fun.  Even sleeping was nicer, her friend becoming a big furry pillow that sometimes smelled a bit like trash.

Cherrypop shivered, and other parts of her trembled, muscles exhausted.  She nearly dropped her rock.

There was a jump ahead of her that would have been hard if she wasn’t tired.  It would be the longest jump she ever made.

Snowdrop had looked scared, back there.

Snowdrop was an opossum.  Snowdrop had told Cherrypop, dead serious, that opossums really could die and come back to life.  That was a big part of why opossums were the best animal.  And if an animal like that with extra magic become-human powers and stuff could be scared then that was the worst thing Cherrypop could think of.

So she had to get across the water to Snowdrop to save her.

Cherrypop thought once again about dozing in the sun with Snowdrop in animal form as her pillow, sleeping the day away.

“If I make this jump and cross this river okay, I’ll never force Snowdrop to chug milk again,” Cherrypop pledged.  Her heart skipped a beat as she felt the pledge take hold.

She backed up a bit, got a running start, and jumped with one hundred and ten percent of her being, when it felt like she only had twenty percent.

She went straight into the drink.

Legs kicking, toe-claws scrabbling against the rock as the strength went out of her leg, she managed to keep arm, shoulder, and head out of the water.  She reached out and grabbed rock.

Without the ability to even lift her way up, she fought to keep head above water, one clawed fingertip reaching out to find a notch in the rock, digging in, the next fingertip reaching.

Every movement of her finger felt like an effort.  Every movement of her arm-

She had to get there in time, she had to beat them, and show up that stupid one-eyed, beak-mouthed little runt.  She had to kick Faerie butt.  She had to-

It took all of her effort to bend her wrist and get her forearm and elbow up onto the rock.  She panted for breath.

-get revenge on the cigarette.  She had to get big and strong.  Had to-

She let go of the rock and snatched her claw out to get hold of a spot further down, then dragged herself another quarter-inch further up the rock.  She could lay her cheek against cold rock now.

-score another win like she had with the fork.  Get so she was in charge of some loser goblins-

She pulled herself up further.  With her other arm, she brought the ultimate cube rock out of the water, and slapped it down, veins bulging in her arm from the effort.  She lifted herself up more, then lay against the rock, panting for breath as she slid tiny bit by tiny bit down the slimy, slick side of it.

-get so she was in charge and she’d teach them about shittyberries and she’d step on ’em sometimes like the big goblin had stepped on her, but she wouldn’t leave ’em-

She fought to pull herself up.  She nearly knocked the cube-shaped rock into the water and made sure to position it carefully, even as every bit of her trembled from exertion.

-she’d save her friend who’d looked scared and she’d be a hero.

As the thought crossed her mind, the cube tipped over into the water.

Keeping her grip and making sure she stayed perched where she was was more important.  Snowdrop was more important than the rock she’d taken off a stupid Faerie and carried this far.

Cherrypop felt lighter than ever, her muscles weren’t trembling, even though bruises covered her and veins still stood out on muscles that were as hard as the rock she was crouched on.

She roared her victory.  “Take that, you river!  Success!  I am the best!  I am strong and I am smart!  Bahahahaa!”

She was in the middle of checking her way out when a wave sloshed over her, knocking her off the rock and into the river.

Into water, which numbed body and brain.

She sank, drifting down, going cold.

She was tired, she was frustrated.  She wanted to do so much but-

She screamed into the water, groping, grappling.  First priority was-

Cherrypop found the cube.  She was too weak to even hug it to her chest, so she kept her claw on it.

Next, she’d take in a deep breath and make the swim, somehow, when she built up her strength a bit.  She inhaled- choked, sputtered, coughed, and sucked more water into her lungs in the process.

Darkness took her.

Yellow eyes stared at her.  A squishy thumb compressed her chest rhythmically.

“Bring her here,” Rook said.

Cherry’s head lolled, and she looked up at Tashlit, who strode through the knee-deep river, carrying Cherry.

Cherry opened her mouth to talk and coughed up water.  “My rock.”

Tashlit nudged Cherrypop’s arm, so the rock was secured at her side.

“Cherrypop,” Rook said, as they met her at the western shore of the river.  “That rock is cursed.”

“Is a good rock.  Don’t lie,” Cherry mumbled.

“Didn’t you wonder why everything was so difficult?” Rook asked.

“Everything’s difficult always.  I’m small and weak and I have a brain like a pencil eraser that’s all rubbed down to the metal bit.”

“Doglick called Toadswallow, Toadswallow asked me to keep an eye out.  Tashlit says there’s something going on in the woods.”

“Snowdrop’s in trouble.  And the girls but they don’t matter as much.  Over-”

“At Lucy Ellingson’s house, alright,” Rook said, matter-of-fact.  “The details are incorrect but that’s good.  Shall we go?  I’ll take her, Tashlit, if you’ll keep an eye on the challenge?”

Tashlit nodded, water dripping off her and slopping out of the folds of skin that had captured some.  Most of the river wasn’t deep enough to dive into, so she waded instead, hands fixing hair.

“How are you, Cherry?”

Cherrypop looked up at Rook, but Rook was fixing her mask into place.  Her skin changed as she set the old woman’s face over her own.

Cherrypop looked the other direction and saw Miss, standing on the shore.

“You’re alive!” Cherrypop exclaimed.

“Did you think I was dead?”

It was hard to think of anyone she didn’t see for more than a few days at a time as alive.  Being away from Kennet had led to a feeling that was a bit homesickness and a bit melancholy, at the sense of everyone being gone, except Toadswallow, Gashwad, Tashlit, John, and Alpy, who had showed up briefly and were only sort of gone.

“You’re intervening?” Rook asked.

“Maricica had her fake self suggest to the girls that you and I were allied, and their reaction or lack of reaction told her enough.  She knows.”

“It was going to happen sooner or later,” Rook said.

Cherrypop nodded her agreement, to make it look like she knew what they were talking about.

“The real danger is that Montague will seize the perimeter, but it’s early in the evening, Toadswallow technically has final say.  The risk that Maricica has arranged a signal for him is there, but the risk that our practitioners need help somewhere and don’t have it is greater.  I’ll risk it.”

“I’ve told you before, but this nature of yours is noble, I admire it,” Rook said, “and I know too many Others who have been similar, and ended up bound or dead.”

“So dead,” Cherrypop said, shaking her head.

“I know,” Miss answered.  “But I can’t conscience any other path.  Look after the girl’s families and the goblins.  Tashlit’s watching the challenge, I’ll see to more abstract things while Maricica is still catching up and setting things into motion, and then I’ll go talk to the Aurum.”

“I’ll catch up with you there.  Hopefully with the Faerie in our clutches.”

“Mmm,” Miss said.

“Mmmm,” Cherrypop echoed her, rubbing her stomach.  She frowned, made a face, and checked.  One of her stomach muscles was twinging and twitching from the earlier strain.

Crooked Rook was an old woman now, her skin a deep brown, her hair white, wispy, and tied back into a bun.  Her back was straight, but her shoulders and neck stooped forward, and she held the same cane, wore the same things, including the birdcage and armor.

As they walked through the neighborhood, Rook had Cherrypop cling to the hand that held the cane, her other hand moving the bar that held the birdcage, dropping it down, wrapping a fine silk shawl with red and gold patterns on it around her shoulders, and the rack of metal and various trophies didn’t form any bulges beneath.  Cherrypop held her rock and craned her body and neck to look down as Rook adjusted her belt buckle, folded a section of the front of her skirt to the side, and turned the entire thing inside out without taking it off.

“Are you warm enough?” Rook asked.

Cherry wasn’t, but didn’t want to sound weak, so she told Rook, “I’m tough!”

“Hold on tight.”

Cherry did.

Rook moved quickly, darting forward.  She’d been a doddering old woman and now she moved like a speeding car, nimble and moving through shadows and backyards.

“Toadswallow, despite his best instincts and intentions, still tends to think about kicking in the door first,” Rook said.  “Even when he’s being subtler.”

“Woo!” Cherrypop whooped.  “Kick it!  Screw you, door!”

“It’s not always the ideal approach.”

“Screw you, Toads!” Cherrypop piped up.  She held her rock and swung it out at the air.

“Look.”

Cherry looked.

Part of the back wall of Lucy’s house was a big open window with a door built in, giving a view of kitchen, the best room in any house, and behind the kitchen was the living room.

A black-skinned woman sat in the living room with a woman wearing a suit-top and skirt, a colorful scarf with a familiar pattern, and straight black hair.

“That’s Maricica.”

“It is very obviously Maricica.  Glamour can be stronger if you leave clear hints.  The hint of the scarf matching her wings and her obvious resemblance to her Faerie self are more hints for us than for Lucille’s mother.”

“Uh huh.”

“You don’t bother with much of that, do you?”

Cherrypop shook her head.

“Miss being here and the current direction of things, Maricica being in that house, it’s war,” Rook said.  “The lines have been drawn.  If anyone hasn’t taken firm sides they’ll have to soon.  We’ll soon see what Maricica has been brewing in the background.  The distractions that she hopes will keep her free and unbound, the rest of us tied up and preoccupied.”

Cherrypop stared up at Rook, eyes wide.

“War,” Rook said, simply.

“Against a Faerie,” Cherrypop said.

“Yes.  Against her,” Rook said, looking at Maricica in the house.

Cherrypop scrunched up her face and nodded.

“Want to help?  It’s easier for something small.”

Cherrypop nodded.

“That rock of yours, you’ve triumphed over the curse, haven’t you?”

“I what?  When?  I won?  How?”

“You won, Cherrypop.  I’m going to ask you to do three things.  If you can do one of them, you’ll have helped us out tonight.  If you can do all three, you might even be a hero tonight.  Understand?”

“I’m small, dumb, weak, and really dumb,” Cherrypop told Rook.

“Three things.  Concentrate.  Maricica’s not wearing shoes, is she?”

“She almost never wears shoes.”

“She took them off at the door.  Get inside, find her shoes, and put the rock inside.”

Cherrypop possessively hugged the rock tighter to her chest.

“It’s a cursed rock, Cherrypop.”

“It’s mine.  It’s square and nice.  One of my best rocks.  I gave it to Snowdrop and she lost it and then the Faerie had it and I got it back.”

“And if you give it back to the Faerie there’s a good chance she’ll be upset and angry.”

“Ooh.”

“Put it in her shoe.  If it works, I promise you it’ll be worth it.  If it doesn’t, you can have the rock back.  That’s job one.”

Cherrypop nodded.

“Job two is that I need you to knock over her bag.  She should have things with her.  Try to make as big a mess as you can.  Don’t hurt the house, but hurt Maricica’s things.”

“Yes,” Cherrypop said, eager.

“Third?  Get along with Peckersnot.”

“Ey!  Gah!”

“Trust me.”

Cherrypop gave Rook a wary look.

“I have to go talk to Toadswallow.  Good luck.  Oh, and if Maricica catches you?  Scream.”

Cherrypop nodded.

Rook tossed her lightly over the fence, and Cherrypop caught branches.  Her arms and shoulders were tired, her claw-tips weren’t as sharp as they could be after getting chipped and ground up scratching for a hold on slippery rocks, she was exhausted from head to toe, but she had to save Snowdrop.  Somehow, by doing this.

Reaching the house, she came to the window, peering around the edge into the living room.  Touching the screen door, she could feel the shimmer of heat and electricity running through the walls of the house, running through glass by proxy.

There were other goblins around the house, lurking, peering.

Getting inside was hard.  It would be a strain, like swimming in the water, but less, but higher stakes.  She was bad at everything but she knew about innocence and that was a pressure that weighed on her, even with the idea of getting inside.

Her claw severed the screen from the frame, opening a gap.  She squirmed through, bringing her rock with her.

Into the kitchen, with stools and chairs.

The house hummed with power that ran against everything she was.  The lights buzzed bright, the walls throbbed with water and buzzed with electricity, and it had the effect of feeling much bigger and much smaller than it was, all at the same time.

“…the case of emergency, what would you do?”

“I would be calling, checking in, I’d enlist Avery’s father’s help.”

“That’s their friend?”

“Yes.  Sorry, yes.”

Pen scribbled on paper.

The house was very open, with one wall and double-doors separating the living room from the front hallway and nothing much separating the living room from the kitchen.  It made it harder to navigate.  It looked like there was a staircase going from the front hall to the upstairs and another one at the other end of upstairs, coming down to right beside Cherrypop.

She could see Peckersnot peering out behind the couch.  She glared.

Right, work together.

She had three jobs and one was the rock in the shoe or something, one was… she forgot.  And the third was working with Peckersnot.

She scampered up the stairs, each one a mountain to climb, made more mountainous by her exhaustion.  Her red-skinned arms were mottled with bruises.  Clean gray-white mottled carpet was supposed to be soft but it prickled against her hands and knees.

She could smell Snowdrop here, faint.  It reminded her to stay focused, as she hurried down the hall.  She looked for things she could use and found the bathroom.  She pulled down a big bunch of toilet paper, then tore it off.  With toilet paper streaming behind her, she ducked into one room, then the next.  Lucy and Verona’s room.  She could smell their stuff.  She could climb up the lamp-cord to get in their trash.  The cord felt like a writhing snake under her hands and claws, and it made her hands hurt.  It would be worse if the lamp was on.

But she was tough!  She was ferocious.  Rook said only she could do this!

And the one-eyed loser Peckersnot.  Blahh.

She’d have to outdo him.  She went looking for things, and saw a backpack on the corner of the bed.

Backpack.  Bag!

Bag.  She was supposed to mess with the bag.

Her hands felt like five sorts of awful after clean carpet with chemicals in it and buzzy cord, she thrust them into trash and dug through crusty kleenexes covered in watercolor and ink, and past tangles of hair clumps pulled out of a hairbrush, and some tags and stickers from clothing.

Chocolate bar wrappers.  There was a cardboard box with recycleables and lots of paper in it.  In that box, she found a can of soda, with just a bit left in the bottom.

Carrying more than her body weight in trash, Cherrypop headed down the hall to the staircase at the far end.  She inched her way down, peering past the railing at Lucy’s mother.

“Do you have mice?” Maricica asked.

“I- it’s a hundred-year-old house, my husband helped renovate it when we moved in, they can start showing up when the weather gets very hot or very cold, I think, usually the latter.  They’re always swiftly dealt with.  Why?”

“I saw a shadow, heard a rustle.  Nevermind, sorry,” Maricica said.  “Any responses?”

Lucy’s mother checked her phone.  “No.”

“Hmmm,” Maricica made a noise, making another note on the paper.

“They’re good girls.  I don’t think they get up to anything too extreme.”

“Sneaking out isn’t extreme to you?”

“I- it is.  They’ll be punished.  I set a strict curfew for them and they violated it.  I’m exceedingly upset, believe me.”

Cherrypop inched down the stairs, bringing the trash with, while trying not to let anything pop, rustle, or click.

“Mrs. Ellingson, this isn’t a condemnation of your parenting skills.  My interest, as I’m sure yours is, is in ensuring that those girls, including Verona, including your daughter, and their friend, all live long and full lives, with no immediate harm to body or mind.”

Cherrypop sniffed one bag that sat on a stair, and it smelled a bit like the underside of a leaf pile, if all the worst rotting and moldy parts of the smells were gone.  It smelled like herbs and underground and animal.

She tipped the remnants of the soda into the bag, then kicked it a few times.

“I have other people to see, and another young lady to visit,” Maricica said.  “I should go.  Is it alright if I reach out to ask if the girls have made it home safely?”

“It’s fine.  I’m sure they’re fine.  They’re capable and they look after one another.”

“It’s been hectic out there, these past few months,” Maricica said.  “Economy collapsing, police pulling double duty, violence, two missing teenagers, multiple parties with youth crashed by violent locals- the stripper, the man with the gun at Bowdler.”

“I know.  That’s why I was so strict with the curfew.  I’m incensed, believe me.”

“I do believe you.  Alright.  I’ll have my other brief visit and check-in, then I’ll call.”

Peckersnot appeared at the end of the stairs, hiding behind the base of the railing as he crawled up to where Cherrypop was.

She hesitated, wanting so badly to push him down the stairs.

She handed him a candy wrapper, then let him have the toilet paper.  She showed him what she was doing.  He nodded.

She still had the rock.

She left him to it, hating that.  Hating that he’d get the glory and he’d get to do this and she had a cool rock and she had to give it up?  So stupid.

Cherrypop hurried down the stairs.  Sneaking around the post at the base, approaching the entryway.

She hurried, sniffing, searching.

A hand was sticking through the mail slot in the door.  Doglick could be heard panting.  Pointing.

She followed the finger, searching, sniffing.  She found the shoes that smelled like forest floor and moth dust.  The door had glass right beside the frame and she could see Toadswallow and Rook’s silhouettes peering through.

Everyone was watching.  She had her chance to be awesome!

But she’d made a cool rock.  She- she didn’t want to give up her rock.

She hugged it.

Reluctantly, she dropped it, letting it fall, hitting the heel of the shoe and then rolling into the toe.

The pressure of innocence loomed and she only barely made it to the post of the railing.  She had to worm her way up so head or butt wouldn’t stick up and out through the slots in the railing.  Getting up to where Peckersnot was.  He was inside the bag.  They had to duck down to avoid being seen.

“Would you be alright with another home visit sometime soon?  I’d like to check in on Verona and see how she’s doing.  I’ll be able to make sure you’re not hiding her away,” Maricica said, touching Lucy’s mother’s shoulder, laughing.

It was probably a bullshit Faerie laugh, all calculated and bullcrap.  Made to do a lot of things and be a pain.

Cherry didn’t care!  No cares, she wanted to make sure she did this okay.  She’d be a hero.  All she had to do was mess with the bag.

She grabbed one corner, ready.

Maricica’s hand reached up and through the railing posts.  She wasn’t even looking, but out of her sleeve, vines and flowers spilled out, reaching.  Thorns pricked flesh and worked their way between Cherrypop’s claws and the corner of the leather bag.  Centipedes and spiders followed, hiding from Lucy’s mom and still going on the offensive, gnashing.  Cherry gnashed back, biting.

Peckersnot slithered out of the bag, kicking at a centipede that was winding up his leg, and Cherry put her foot out, stepping on the very end of it, to try and help.  Because Maricica had made Snowdrop scared somehow and that was the worst!  Because Peckersnot was lame and stupid and snotty and he only had one eye but-!

Maricica could lift the bag and the two of them at the same time.  Peckersnot gripped one bottom corner of the purse, Cherrypop gripped the other, and both of them did their best to keep it from going smoothly the other way.  Peckersnot dragged the end of the bag one way, holding it so the upper right corner of the purse caught on a post, and Cherrypop just tried to haul back with all her strength.

Maricica adjusted her grip, and Cherry could see the slime on the purse handle.  As Maricica moved her hand, Peckersnot shoved on the purse, pushing instead of pulling.  Cherry mimed him.

She’d be giving him the victory here because it was his idea but maybe Snowdrop-

They pushed the bag off the stair it had been left on, through the gaps in the railing.  Maricica held one strap but not the other.  The bag’s contents spilled out.

Papers, folders, a little makeup kit.  Things hit the ground and shattered into nothingness, illusion broken.  The bag itself lost some of its sheen, becoming secondhand, something picked up and dressed up to look prettier.

And amid the stuff that had spilled out onto the front hall were papers covered in traces of soda, and a fair amount of toilet paper with brown smudges on it.

Cherrypop stomped on one of Maricica’s beetles, grabbed it, and then bit its head off.  Others carried on down the stairs.

“Oh no!  Here, let me help you,” Lucy’s mother said.

“No need, please.  If you could avoid looking?  Some of this is not for the eyes and ears of the untrained and unwary.”

Lucy’s mother, already bending down and collecting papers, had already glimpsed some.  She’d also seen the toilet paper, and was frowning at it.

“It’s chocolate, by the smell of it.  It’s-”

Lucy’s mother leaned in closer, sniffing.  “That’s not just chocolate.”

Cherrypop looked over at Peckersnot, who couldn’t really smile with that beak of his, but looked rather pleased with himself.

Her heart sank, even as she was glad it had worked out.  It had been her idea to start.  Maybe she could say that.

Maybe they’d just keep calling her dumb and weak and stupid.

“It looks like a little trick from some of the little ones I’ve worked with.  Many are outright monsters, little savages.”  Maricica tittered.  “I’m fond of them in my way.”

Cherrypop flipped Maricica the bird, even though she was hiding by the railing and Maricica couldn’t see.

“I see,” Lucy’s mother said.  Her tone had changed from earlier.  “I’m sorry, can I ask- double checking.  You’re with CAS?  At the door you were talking so fast, you-”

“Not to worry, Mrs. Ellingson, I’m-”

“-asked if this was the house Verona was at, and you brought up CAS, but you didn’t say…?”

“I’m with an organization that has worked with CAS in the past.”

“Are you?  Which is that?”

“A community-run effort.”

“Is it?  Do you have credentials?  An education?  You say you’ve worked with little ones before, how?  Is there someone I can call?”

“I’ve received a fine education in psychology and sociology, Mrs. Ellingson, don’t worry, I-”

“A number I can call, please,” Lucy’s mother said, frowning.

“I’m sorry, I really should be going to see to the next child.”

“Who?  Do I know them?”

“You may, I don’t know.  Excuse me.”

“Excuse me,” Lucy’s mother said, putting her hand out and blocked the door, as Maricica brought her bag to where her shoes were.  She kept Maricica from opening the door.  “You just took up nearly forty minutes of my time, stoking concerns about my girls, and now you won’t answer my questions?”

“Please, Mrs. Ellingson, I’m going to have to ask you to calm down.”

“What are your intentions, Mary?  Gathering data to say I’m a bad parent?  Trying to drive me and my family out of town?”

“No.  My interest concerns the well being of the girls-”

“Who gave you the right?” Jasmine hissed the words, heated.  Cherrypop pumped her fist.  She saw Maricica standing beside her heeled shoes in stocking feet.  She was going to stub her toe on the stone, wasn’t she?  Wasn’t she?

That would be great.

“Excuse me.  You’re crowding me.”

“I’m asking you, really, who gave you the right?  You intrude in my home, assume an air of authority-”

“I would not act so indignant, Mrs. Ellingson, when you don’t even know where the two children in your custody are.”

“Don’t threaten me.”

“It’s not a threat, it’s a fact, and a little bit of an indictment, if I’m honest, that-”

Lucy’s mother drew her hand back, swinging-

Stopping just short of slapping Maricica.  Cherrypop sagged in disappointment.

“Get out.”

Maricica bent down, picked her her shoes, and tapped them out.  The little stone dropped out and then rolled into the air vent.  Cherrypop could hear it clattering through the vents.

Maricica slipped the shoes on, sorted out her bag while avoiding touching the sticky handle that was separate from the strap, then stepped outside into the dark, stepping down the stairs.

The Others weren’t outside, except for Rook, walking down the street in the guise of an old woman.

Lucy’s mom remained where she was, standing in the doorway and the light of the porch.  She reached into her pocket and pulled out a phone, dialing.

“Connor?  It’s me again.  A little shaken.  No, I haven’t heard from them, I’m sorry.  No, um, the woman I was talking to wasn’t with CAS.  She was some fraud or something.  She knew details but she didn’t know everything, I- can we talk later?  When we’ve made sure the girls are safe.  I’m wondering if you know what it could be.”

There was a pause.  Maricica walked down the street.

The others would have been ready to go after her, but with Jasmine looking…

The narrow view from the stairwell out the front door didn’t let Cherry see where Maricica went, but Lucy’s mother continued to watch her walk away.

“That’s a good idea.  I’m just worried- no, no.  But if this is community-led pressure, if it’s aimed at me and Lucy especially… some of the people I’m calling could be behind this.”

Lucy’s mother’s shoulders drew in together.

“I don’t know.  It doesn’t add up.  Maybe you’re right.  It’s just such an extreme, for something like that, and she knew things the neighborhood busybodies wouldn’t.  I’m so creeped out right now.  Look, let me try that, I’ll call you back.  Yeah, if you think that’d help.  Thanks.  In twenty?  Alright.”

Peckersnot pointed, and Cherrypop nodded.  They crept up the stairs, Cherry grabbing a bug and eating it to help clean up.

The rattling continued through the vents, and a vent spat out the stone.  It rolled along the landing at the top of the stairs, then bounced its way down, striking Cherrypop between the eyes.

Peckersnot covered her mouth.  They looked back, and Lucy’s mother was glancing their way, before stepping more outside, looking in the direction Maricica had gone.

“Hi, Sheryl?  Sorry to bother you at this hour, I just had the eeriest thing happen, I’m wondering if you have any ideas.  I thought we should do a phone tree to the other parents in town, just in case.  A woman came in posing as child services, out of the blue, prying for information.”

They reached the top of the stairs.

“No, no, I’m the most boring person, trust me.  No angry exes, nobody who might hire a private investigator.  I have a nice job at the hospital…  nursing.  Yes, thank you.  I’m pleased.  Look, um, she said she was visiting someone else, she wouldn’t say who, and in case that isn’t a lie, Connor thought we should get the word out, band together as a community.  He’s calling the homeschool parents.  Do you think you could start with the last half of the alphabet?  I’ll cover the first?  Use the school yearbook?  Let them know there’s a possible con artist or creep out there?”

Cherrypop hurried down the hallway, so she could go down.  Her muscles were getting tired again, really fast.

Maybe it would help her get strong.

Out through the back, in the slit in the screen.  Peckersnot turned and smeared snot there, sticking it closed again, and Cherry made a face at him.

They hopped from back patio to fence and fence to bush, then made their way out to the street.

Nibble, Chloe, Miss, Rook, Bluntmunch, Toadswallow, Gashwad, Tatty, Bangnut and Doglick were there, in various places on the street or in kind-of-hiding.  Cherrypop and Peckersnot approached Toadswallow.

“She got away,” Toadswallow snarled, looking at a nearby rooftop.  “Took to the air before we could get across the street.  Had most of everyone here and she was too quick.”

“The mom’s suspicious and stuff,” Cherrypop mumbled.  “We did the things.”

“You did good work,” Rook said, poking at Cherrypop’s side with the end of her cane.  Cherrypop tipped over, and laboriously got to her feet, straining a bit.  “Small mercies she’s a young Faerie, not adept at navigating humans and human institutions.”

“Damage is done,” Toadswallow growled.  “We’ll have to see how much, if the girls make it through this test.  She’s young and she’s a touch shite at this, but she knows that.  She’ll be leaning more into the things she’s good at.”

“It’s a faerie,” Tatty said.  “If you don’t kick their asses enough, even your wins are kind of losses.”

Toadswallow heaved out a sigh.

“I got a win,” Cherrypop said.  She held up her rock.  “I got my rock back.”

“I see,” Rook said, the old woman’s face creasing into a sympathetic frown.  “You did get a win, Cherry, even if I don’t think that’s quite it.”

Bluntmunch, prowling through bushes, lightly nudged Cherrypop, bowling her over.  He did the same to Peckersnot.  When she looked, he was half-smiling, before loping away, hunched over and moving on all fours.

“Shall we check on the girls?  See if they need any help outside of what Miss can give them from the sidelines?” Rook asked.

“It’s bad?”

“Cursed,” Rook said, at the same time Toadswallow said, “Yes.”

Cherrypop looked down at the stone, frowning.

“Good, nearly everyone,” Rook murmured.

Cherrypop looked up from the rock to take the scene in.

Matthew, Miss, Tashlit and John were already there.  The rest of them joined in, forming a loose circle around the arena.  The various goblins, Liberty’s included, were more than half the circle.

No Charles, but Charles was stinky.

The centipede guy was there, the centipede coiled around the circle, parts of it supporting the structure.  As if protecting and guarding it from them, like he suspected an attack.  Half of his attention was on them, half on the proceedings.

Cherrypop could hear what was going on, now.  She could see Snowdrop, could see Avery, doing that thing where she was covering her ears, eyes on the ground.  Verona looked really sick and tired and Lucy looked flustered.

The crowd around them made noise, listing off demerits for Avery’s refusal to listen.  Pointing out dress code issues, because strands of hair were out of place.  Telling Verona to stand up straight, to adhere to procedure.

“It was muffled before,” Tatty said.

“If they ask for counsel that counsel needs to know what’s occuring,” Miss said.  “I made the argument, the Aurum conceded the point.”

“Shh,” Toadswallow hissed.

“-forswearing?” Verona finished asking.

“Do you want an accusation of outright forswearing?” the Faerie in purple asked.  The centipede guy nodded to himself.

“They’re mirroring what we did to Edith,” Lucy said, quiet.  “We could have taken it further, we showed mercy, they think they’re showing mercy by selling two of us off.”

“False statement, it’s mercy by selling two and a further four fifths of an individual.”

“Diminutive reference to the court, fifty demerits.  You’re coming perilously close to making it a sale of three whole individuals.”

“Would you rather we didn’t show mercy?” the Faerie in purple asked.

“Please shut up,” Lucy told her.

“Fifty demerits.  Twenty for speaking out of turn, thirty for improper request for a violation of court procedure, the prosecution must be able to speak.”

Other Faerie clapped gently, in that fancy pants way where only fingers slapped against palm.  The Faerie who’d just spoken smiled and basked in praise.  Lucy wilted just a bit more than she had.

Snowdrop put her hand over Lucy’s.

“They’re so tired,” Miss remarked.  She put her hand out and stopped short of touching the barrier.  “They were tired before this.”

“The damn town’s weighing on their shoulders,” Sir Toadswallow said.  “We do our part, but there’s only three of them.”

“There are others.  You gave permission for the outside practitioners to get involved?” Matthew asked.

“I did,” Toadswallow said.

“They called me.  Maricica is sorting herself out and sending messages to people outside of town.  By bird.”

“My goblins said she’d likely go after another child.  The Oakham girl?”

“Melissa?” Matthew asked.  “Maybe.”

“Is Edith secure?” Miss asked.

“By Montague.”

Chloe leaned in close to Nibble, and Nibble spoke up, “Do you want us to go?  Chloe isn’t feeling up for crowds right now.”

“Please,” Matthew said.  “Take my house key.”

“Thanks for the trust, guy,” Nibble said, taking the key and closing one claw around it.  “Mind if we raid your fridge?”

“Downstairs freezer has meat.  It’s not human, but… feel free.”

“Thanks,” Nibble said.

“It’s unnecessary to send guards.  It was secured by the Sable,” the centipede guy said, sounding tired.  “If it’s not enough, you don’t have any hope of dealing with whatever force could breach it.”

“Please focus on the girls and the trial,” Miss said.  The glare of the lights beside the judge inside the circle made it impossible to look directly at her face, especially with the way it shone on the invincible barrier.  “You gave the Faerie too much leeway.”

“I gave her enough.  It was a false accusation, and I do like turnabout.”

“I wish they’d ask for counsel,” Matthew said.  “They offered it to Edith.  Couldn’t they ask for the same?”

“Most likely,” Miss said.  “But their confidence is shaken.  Every attempt to turn things around sinks them in deeper.  They are dealing with a Fae of Maricica’s rough equal, with very different strengths.”

Tashlit reached out to Rook’s shoulder, then gestured.  Rook, now back as her regular purple-orange self, dressed in black and birdcages and wild crap, made her way over to Bluntmunch.  She said something in his ear, and then he bent down, grabbing a branch, to say something to Toadswallow.

It seemed to Cherrypop like she didn’t want to bend over that much to talk to Toadswallow so she’d said what she’d said to Bluntmunch instead.  Bluntmunch said something to Ramjam.

The centipede guy glanced back at them.  “I’m aware of my domain.  Do you think I can’t hear?”

“Shout on-” Ramjam started.

Cherrypop raised her voice, shouting.

The others picked it up.  Cheering, hollering, shouting, all at the tops of their lungs.

Cherrypop gave it her all, calling out to Snowdrop.

The girls inside the arena turned their heads, glancing back.  They’d heard.  Maybe they hadn’t heard much or hadn’t heard it all, but-

The centipede guy raised his hand, then clenched it.

All sound inside the woods seemed to change.  Cherrypop’s pointed ears twitched.  It was like the sound was bouncing back more.

“That’s enough of that.  It bodes ill if you’re all so willing to interfere,” the centipede guy said.

“Do you truly think a Faerie such as Maricica wouldn’t be prepared with outside support and allies?  As we speak, she reaches out to some,” Miss said.

“With no guarantee about success.  The terms of the challenge focus on the known variables.”

“Context matters,” Miss said.

“Perhaps, but if you wish to argue for that, bring it up as a point of order.  I’ve silenced things for now,” the centipede guy said.  “If you’re here to observe, observe.”

Cherrypop didn’t just observe, but she listened too, because she might’ve had a head like a pumpkin with most of the goop carved out and the candle burned all the way down, but she could have her moments of clever.

“…unhappy?” Avery asked, dropping her hands from her ears.  She winced as the gallery of Fae picked up in volume.

“No,” Lucy said.  She didn’t look quite as spooked as before.

“Can you back me?” Avery asked.  “I can’t do this alone, or with just a sick Verona backing me.”

The Faerie talked over her.

“You have an idea?” Verona asked.

Avery put three fingers over her heart.

“I’ll back you,” Lucy said.  She turned, then shouted out.  “Thank you!  Thank you so much!”

“Inappropriate volume for class B dialogue,” a Faerie on the sidelines said.  “Demerits!”

“One hundred demerits,” the oldest Faerie present said.  “That is now, by my reckoning, three individuals slated for the markets.”

“I swear, if you guys make me one of those people that gets sold off,” Liberty said.  “I’m going to be so peeved at you while I’m enslaved for all eternity.”

“The defendants do not seem concerned with the matter of oathbreaking before the court,” the Faerie in purple said.  “I move for maximum charges, immediate resolution.”

“Aurum!” Avery raised her voice, still with three fingers over her heart.  “Aurum!  Aurum!”

The centipede stirred.  The guy riding the centipede rode the creature into the clearing, first in around the edges, then winding his way in.  The light took on a golden tone.

“The time for defining procedure was before the trial began,” the centipede guy said.

“There are parts of this that were always going to be interpreted during,” Avery said.  “By you and by her.  Finnea has made three assumptions I’m challenging now.”

Avery looked intense.  There was a dark look in her eyes; a kind of anger, a frustration.

“The time was before.  I move to dismiss,” Finnea said.

“Then I’d move to dismiss this entire thing,” Avery said.

“Make your challenges.”

Avery nodded.  Snowdrop reached out to touch her arm.  Lucy, on the other side of her, put a hand on her shoulder.

“First of all, you changed our clothes.  You took away things and you changed things up.”

“To bewilder and befuddle,” Finnea said.

“When it came to Edith, we stripped the room but we left her intact, in… in Self.”

“Integrity,” Verona added.

“And in integrity,” Avery picked that up.  “And we recognized that she had power and we were careful but that carefulness was about us and us being prepared.  When it came to Maricica… where is my Wolf mask?”

One of the tailors had it.

“We had that.  We had other little things.  We prepared ourselves.  I want my crap back!”

“Heck yeah!” Liberty shouted.

“Find another way to bewilder and befuddle!” Avery raised her voice.

“Counterpoint?” the centipede guy asked.

“Streamlining.  We’ve already brought things this far, we’re close to laying charges, they’ve made insufficient defense, and this matters little.”

“It matters!” Avery raised her voice.

“Screw your streamlining!” Lucy shouted.  Faerie called out for more demerits.  “How is it streamlining if you tack on lots of little details and punishments and sabotages that each do a little more than you imply they will?  I want my clothes back!”

“I want my stuff,” Verona said.

“There are other grounds to establish your bewilderment,” the centipede guy said.  “It is simpler and closer to their original intent if they mirror Edith and their original target.”

The centipede moved through the scene.  As he passed the girls, their outfits returned to what they’d been.  Witch hats, badass new masks, cloaks and capes, and new clothes.

Faerie jeered, catcalled, and called for demerits for improper court attire.

“Second point of order!” Avery shouted.  “We offered Edith an advocate, we would have offered Maricica or whoever we called here the same.  Because we do believe in fairness, we do believe in this process, we believe in doing this right.  It was always going to be chaotic but fair.”

“Counterpoint,” the Faerie in purple replied.  “There’s no proof you planned to extend the same to Maricica.  Your foundation with Edith was a different thing.  You were afraid of Maricica.”

“I swear I would have offered her the advocate,” Lucy said.  “Even wearing a different mask and different clothes, facing off against a Faerie, I’m still the same person.”

“Against Alexander, did you offer an advocate?”

“Against Bristow, I offered truce,” Verona said.  “He decided he’d rather walk into a Brownie’s den.”

“We asked for Alexander to leave us alone, we tried to work with him.  There was never a time we had that power over him that we could offer him something.”

“Until your summoned Other shot him from behind.”

“I didn’t want that,” Lucy said.  She glanced around, as if she wanted to look through the trees and see John, somehow.  John shuffled his feet.

“You wished him dead, you summoned the Other knowing it might happen.  A brutal and savage murder without trial.  Maricica has many parallels to the man.  There’s no guarantee.”

“Even with my swearing it?” Lucy asked.

The Faerie in purple shook her head.  “For all we know, the swearing is in hindsight.  We can’t know what you would do or not do in the actual moment you had the real Maricica in your grasp.  Or to me, when so many of your encounters with Fae have been treacherous and dangerous.”

“Any further arguments?” the centipede guy asked.

Cherrypop leaned forward on her branch.

“Who would Maricica have called?” the Faerie in purple asked.

“We don’t know,” Avery said.  “Someone like you?”

“An old enemy of hers she allies with out of convenience, who would be happy to see her crumble?  Is it an offer in good faith if you don’t believe Maricica has any true friends?”

“There are shadows of doubt enough I cannot grant you easy counsel.  I’d ask you to name your third challenge regarding Finnea’s procedure,” the centipede guy said.

“We came ready for a fight.  Finnea said…” Avery paused.  “I can’t remember exact words, but she seems to think we came ready to be overly aggressive.  But that’s not exactly it.  We needed to come prepared because our very first introduction to Maricica… do you guys remember?”

She’d asked the other girls.

“I definitely remember,” Verona said.

“Guilherme was throwing spears, and he told us how she can dodge them, and how back and forth it gets,” Avery said.  “The arena, it’s my rink, it’s my playing field-”

“Ours.  It’s a two way street,” Finnea said.

“Exactly!  But the way it’s set… when the challenge gets made, it’s a negotiation.  And we never got all the way into that.  Knowing Maricica isn’t that bad at fighting, we came armed because we were ready.”

“For a trial by combat,” Lucy said.

“For my third assertion, I’m going to ask for the right to assert that part that we skipped over,” Avery said.  “We rushed past and I personally thought we’d get the chance somewhere in the midst of this.”

“They want the trial by combat because they’ve ventured this far into the trial and they know they’re losing,” Finnea said.

“I must concede that Finnea is right.  The time for that assertion has passed.”

“We ventured this far this fast because of your streamlining, Aurum,” Avery said.  She put her wolf mask on.  “We came prepared for Maricica to do anything, even fight us.  If we’re turning things around, then it’s our right to do anything to get through this, right?  She can set the stage, you can decide how karma gets counted, we’re locked in… but we can flip the stage, can’t we?  Just like Maricica would try to, in her Faerie way?”

Cherrypop nearly fell off the branch in her excitement.  Her whoops joined the other goblins.

The centipede guy nodded once.

Next Chaptr