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The compound housed a sizeable flower garden filled with curving paths lined with trellises and large urns filled with flowers. There were rose bushes of all types and small ponds containing flowering lilies and vibrant blue, purple, pink and orange koi fish.
Glenn followed close behind Keri, who seemed to know where she was going. He wanted to tell Stephi what he saw, or open the basket lid so she could see. But Petie was in the compound, flying around and landing on the paths ahead of them. She could at least see through his eyes the climbing morning glories, patches of day lilies, snap dragons, marigolds, irises, tulips, daisies, bachelor buttons, pussy willows and more.
And then there was the legion of bees, a myriad of colorful butterflies dancing on the light breeze, and hummingbirds, at least three different types. All of them flitted from flower to flower in search of fresh nectar.
“Gardeners work during the morning and evening,” Keri said, taking a left at a Y intersection. “Afternoons are fairly quiet, unless the duke or other nobles decide to lunch in the garden.”
Staying on the stone path that forked multiple times and made numerous turns, from right angle to hairpin, Keri made her way to a quiet corner of the duke’s garden. With no one tending the flowers and plants, or visiting, all was quiet, except for some small frogs croaking, insects buzzing and canaries and other song birds singing. The twists and turns, the rosebushes and trellises, and marble statues were arranged to make one feel isolated within the garden. If Glenn were taller, he figured he might be able to see more, get glimpses of the distant boarder wall. What he was able to see was the keep’s main wall.
As he was staring at it, Keri said, “There is a tunnel that leads from the duke’s keep into the garden. Its location is a closely guarded secret.”
The way she said it, Glenn wasn’t sure if she knew the location of the tunnel’s entrance, or not. Probably the way she intended it.
Keri stopped next to a wall of climbing hydrangea framed by several lilac bushes and a pink-flowering dogwood. “Set the basket down, Jax.”
He did and looked around. He spotted Petie in the dogwood’s upper branches. Glenn supposed someone, Emma, would emerge from the keep’s tunnel. But how had Keri contacted her? Did she send a runner with a message ahead? He doubted that, with the guard at the gate. She could’ve used some sort of messaging spell, if that was possible. Kirby, Ron, or even Derek would probably know.
Not seeing anyone, Glenn lifted the basket lid.
Stephi was sitting, leaning back with her legs crossed, eyes closed.
“Marigold,” he whispered. Then he looked up at Keri standing next to him.
“It is perfectly fine for her to come out. This,” Keri said, gesturing with a sweep of her hand, “is her element.”
Stephi stood and started to climb out, then remembered her wings and flew out, and hovered like a hummingbird. Maybe like one that was a little tipsy.
Glenn averted his eyes, instead of staring. In some ways, with her shimmering wings, beating and flashing in the sunlight, she was that much more stunning. Plus, the way her chest was bouncing, her makeshift sarape might come apart at any moment. He hoped it didn’t, even as a creepy part of him sort of—well, hoped it did. And he hated himself for that.
“Swaa,” a cheerful voice said. It sounded like a practiced feminine soprano.
Glenn looked, and sitting on a lower branch of the dogwood was a fairy. He’d just been looking that direction and hadn’t seen her. He was sure she hadn’t just flown past him.
The fairy had wings similar to Stephi’s, iridescent, but with more pink in them. They were a little fuller. More teardrop shaped, and less butterfly. She had short, blond hair, in sort of a mussed up, fashion model style. She looked a little smaller than Stephi, which made sense since, on average, Stephi had been bigger than most people, except for some massive warrior types, or half-ogres. And the fairy wore a sleeveless, short dress that was made up of flower petals. It didn’t look flimsy or about to fall apart. Glenn wasn’t close enough to see any stitching. Even so, he didn’t think there was any. Maybe some sort of glue?
How could she have avoided being noticed while adorned in a dress consisting of orange, red and yellow flower petals? Her tiny feet were bare, and that made Glenn wonder if she flew south for the winter. Was it warmer to the south? Were winters around Three Hills City bad? He’d never really thought to ask anyone.
“Swaa, Emma,” Keri said. “These are my friends.” She gestured to each as she named them. “Marigold and Jax.” She turned to Stephi and Glenn. “Marigold and Jax, this is my friend, Emma.”
Emma responded. What she said sounded pleasant, and caused Keri to smile and Stephi to blush while also smiling. The words Emma spoke sounded like Elvish, or Elven. Whatever the language, Jax couldn’t understand what was said.
Keri noticed Glenn’s blank expression out of the corner of her eye. “Emma, my dear, Jax isn’t able to converse in your native tongue.”
A brief instant of consternation crossed the small fairy’s face. Then she giggled. “Three sunrises filled with apologies, Jax the Gnome. I remarked that Marigold’s radiant beauty outshines the loveliest morning glory in the duke’s garden. And that she is by long measure the largest fairy I have ever seen, both in height of stem and blossoming display, certain to distract mortal men, should they lay eyes upon her.”
Glenn couldn’t argue with that assessment. “True words. Thank you for saying them in a way that I can understand.”
“Why have you come to spend the height of the sun with me today?” Emma asked. “Certainly not to consult.” She raised a feathery eyebrow at Glenn. “Nor to explore invasive species within the duke’s garden.”
“That is true, those are not our purposes,” Keri said. “The guards required a reason to admit us on this fine afternoon.”
Emma fluttered her wings and laughed. It brought to mind jingling bells mixed with wind chimes.
“The guards are unlikely to know a toad from a toadstool,” Emma said, “but they defend the gate like a mother badger does her den.”
Glenn wondered if the guards knew the fairy, Emma, was even in the garden. He hadn’t seen her until she decided to reveal herself. By the secluded spot Keri had selected, he decided they didn’t. He figured most of the nobles that visited the flower garden were unaware as well. That made him feel a little bit special. It wasn’t often he felt privileged compared to the rich merchants and nobles in Three Hills City.
Keri returned to the point of their visit. “As you might have guessed, Marigold was not born a fairy. A leprechaun that goes by the name of Bata Fidil transformed her into one just this morning.” Keri frowned, then pursed her lips. “From what I know of Marigold, although an elf, her upbringing has left her unknowing of the fae.”
Glenn wasn’t sure that Stephi had shared any of her “upbringing” with Keri. But Glenn and his party had been at the Glade House for a couple months. That she and he were relying on Kirby, a half-goblin, for information on fairies, one of the fae races? The logical assumption made sense.
“She is an elf,” Keri continued. “Or was, prior to her encounter with Bata Fidil in Polayney’s grove.”
The fact that Stephi was an elf appeared to both please and sadden Emma.
Stephi continued to beat her wings, effortlessly remaining aloft with only an inch or two in varying height off the ground. She looked down and away. Glenn suspected she was recalling the actions that led to her transformation.
“Like Jax, Marigold is more comfortable around humans than her own kind.”
Emma’s brow furrowed. “His proper name is Bataí Fidil na Maidine, and he is a wart of a man.”
Keri laughed and clasped her hands. “My friend, you say that about all leprechauns, and half the pixies ever born.”
“You have a point, Keri,” Emma said. “Leprechauns are not long-thinkers and more greedy for gold than squirrels for acorns prior to a harsh winter.” For a few seconds, her wings stopped flapping. “Fairies get blamed for half the mischief pixies inflict upon mortals, because the big louts cannot identify one from the other.”
Glenn wondered how humans could, assuming those were the “big louts.” If they’re lucky they get a fraction of a second’s glimpse and the pixie—or fairy—is gone. But he didn’t express his thought.
Emma leaned forward, resting her hands on her thighs with elbows pointed out. “Bataí Fidil na Maidine? I would rather spend my morning among the blowflies infesting a wererat’s carcass than with him.”
“So, more than by name, you know him?” Stephi asked.
“I have had the misfortune to meet him a time or two, many summers past.” She sat up straight. “I overheard the duke’s daughter and her nursemaid earlier talking of a rainbow descending into the yew grove this morning. I did not know it was Fidil’s doing. And I am joyful as a caterpillar devouring a fresh milkweed sprout that I wasn’t there to chance meet him again.
“Is that why you’re visiting me here in the garden?”
“It is,” Keri said. “Marigold knows nothing of fairies and their magic, and their concerns, other than iron.”
Emma’s mouth dropped open for a second, and her eyebrows shot up. Then she tapped a spot on the dogwood branch next to her. “Please, come sit next to me and tell me about your encounter with the weasel-nosed Bata Fidil. After I apologize to all weasels within earshot for that unpleasant association.”
Glenn and everyone else laughed, and Stephi maneuvered herself to stand on the branch, and then sat. She was at least thirty percent bigger than Emma, meaning the small fairy was only a foot or so tall, and built much like a typical Barbie doll.
“You are indeed a tallest of oaks among our kind,” Emma said, looking up at Stephi sitting to her right.
“It was the same when I was an elf,” Stephi replied with a shrug.
“I must also say, you fly very well with this being your first day as a fairy.”
“It’s because of Petie, my familiar.”
Petie flew down and landed on a branch above them, a few feet away. He chirped happily. Glenn interpreted it as a greeting.
Emma grinned and waved to Petie. “A handsome blue jay he is,” she said to Stephi. “Which means you are a magic user?”
Stephi nodded.
“It also means that when Fidil worked his Transmorph Spell upon you, the enchantment did not strip you of your spell-casting abilities. It may be that you will benefit from what you had and what you have gained.”
“Gained?” Stephi asked.
Emma looked down at Glenn, and then for a briefer span, at Keri.
After an uncomfortable pause, Emma said, “Tell me of your encounter with that festering wart of a...leprechaun.”
Stephi retold her tale, almost exactly as she had to Keri. This time, she didn’t require reminders or input from Glenn. He thought about sitting down on the path, but refrained as he didn’t want to interrupt Stephi or accidentally insult Emma. Besides, Keri remained standing.
After Stephi finished, another moment of silence emerged.
Glenn was searching for something to say when the small fairy stood, mostly by effort of her beautiful wings.
Emma offered Stephi a hand to stand as well and announced, “Marigold and Petie will remain with me until after the sun falls below the horizon. I will share with her all she needs to know.” She smiled down at Glenn. “She and her familiar shall return before moonrise, when her travels will not easily be viewed by mortal eyes.”
Glenn didn’t want to abandon his friend, but it was clear both he and Keri were being dismissed. He said, “I’ll be sure to leave the window to our room at the Glade House open.”
Stephi appeared both nervous and excited. “Thank you, Jax. I’ll see you and Gurk tonight. Don’t worry.” She clasped her hands. “Keri, I cannot thank you enough.”
Keri released a pleasant laugh. “It’s my pleasure, hon.”
Stephi smiled down at Emma, a knowing smile that Glenn had glimpsed at college, a knowing smile shared between sorority sisters.
Misinterpreting Glenn’s absent nodding with raised eyebrows, Stephi said, “Everything’s fine, Jax. Petie and I will be okay.”
Glenn left the garden with some regret hanging in his heart. Even though Stephi said it was okay, he felt like he was abandoning his friend who was vulnerable, both physically and emotionally. Plus, he wanted to linger in the garden, among the flowers. The fragrance and beauty spoke to his heart. He’d never been much of a nature enthusiast. He could recognize a beautiful forest or waterfall, but what he felt at the moment wasn’t the same. His game-dictated gnomish nature was to blame.
There was no way he could remain in the garden. He’d be seen, and probably arrested. He wasn’t sure how welcome Keri even was to be there for an extended period of time. And if he stayed outside the garden compound, in the rich district, he’d probably be arrested for loitering, or something. Or run over by four magnificent horses pulling a high-wheeled, fancy carriage.
No, even if it was a gnome thing, his human side recognized why spending time there would be alluring. Heck, a duke with power and wealth had created it. Probably to escape from whatever a rich and powerful man would need to escape from.
He looked around and redoubled his efforts to keep up with Keri. After they’d exited the double gates, the Glade House owner commented, “Your step is lighter. You anticipate a sunrise rather than a sunset for your friend.”
“Maybe,” he pondered aloud. Then kept the rest of the thought to himself. The Monsters, Maces and Magic game world held far more misery, drudgery, desperation and terror than peace and beauty.
While they waited to cross an intersection congested by carts hauling rugs, wagons stacked with cut lumber and bricks, and porters bearing sacks of wool, Glenn looked around. Nobody was close to them, nobody paying attention. He asked the Glade House owner, “What’s a wood nymph?”
Keri looked down at him. At first her eyes shot wide. Then her full lips pursed. “A gnome that doesn’t know the likes of a wood nymph?”
Glenn gulped. “Sort of like Marigold, I was raised among humans.” It was the truth. He didn’t add that he’d never actually spoken with a fellow gnome. Ever. And the thought of the first time the opportunity presented itself turned his stomach into a knotted mess.
Keri’s head tilted with an eyebrow raised, followed by a look of satisfaction. It was as if a puzzle piece had just fallen into place. She glanced back over her shoulder, the direction of the distant garden compound, possibly fitting another puzzle piece into place.
“Come on,” she said, “I’ll share a little of what I know of wood nymphs with you.”
Instead of trying to make it across the intersection, she led Glenn another direction.