Andalonus hooted. ‘Not only a biscuit, but a gift!’
‘Yes,’ Meteor answered. ‘A gremlin has to give us a biscuit. Voluntarily.’ He looked so grave when he said ‘biscuit’ that I giggled, at which he frowned. ‘Gremlins don’t give up their biscuits, Zaria.’
‘Well, the pixie song shouldn’t be too hard to get,’ Leona said. ‘Pixies sing all the time, don’t they?’
‘But it’s a special song,’ Meteor said. ‘They have to teach us, and then we have to sing it. I couldn’t find the name of the song, so we’d have to get the pixies to give us the right one – if they remember it. This list goes back four thousand years.’
‘Four thousand years?’ I asked in dismay.
‘Four thousand years,’ Meteor repeated.
I glanced over the list again. ‘Something cherished?’
‘By leprechauns,’ Meteor told me. ‘And that’s all I could find. No specifics.’
Andalonus put his feet on the ceiling and called to us upside down. ‘I know what leprechauns cherish. Chocolate – and coffee too!’
Ignoring him, Meteor looked at me and Leona. ‘Also, the spell for aevia ray takes Level One Hundred. And it uses five hundred thousand radia.’
‘Oof!’ said Andalonus. ‘How much new radia does that create?’
Meteor smoothed the hair out of his eyes. ‘It’s said that even a few grains are equal to several million radia.’
I turned to Leona, who turned to me the same instant. We nodded to each other.
‘It’s a foolish quest,’ she said, ‘but if it means we can stomp out Lily Morganite, I’m ready.’
Andalonus dropped to the floor, thumping the spiral pattern of tiles. ‘I can’t add to your magic,’ he said. ‘But when it comes to foolish quests, I’m gifted.’
Chapter Twenty-six
GREMLINS HAVE AN INSATIABLE APPETITE FOR HUMANMADE BISCUITS, SO THEY ARE EASILY BRIBED BY GIFTS OF ASSORTED VARIETIES. IT IS FAR LESS TROUBLE TO ACQUIRE BISCUITS THAN TO LIVE NEAR GREMLINS, WHICH IS WHY THE HIGH COUNCIL HAS A TRADITION OF BRIBING GREMLINS TO STAY OUT OF FEYLAND.
GREMLINS DO NOT MAKE GOOD NEIGHBOURS. THEY DESPISE ALL FORMS OF PRODUCTIVE WORK. INDEED, THEIR DISGUST RUNS DEEP FOR ANY EXERTION THAT DOES NOT INVOLVE BREAKING THINGS. UNFORTUNATELY THEY HAVE AN INNATE UNDERSTANDING OF HOW PARTS FIT TOGETHER, MAKING THEM SKILFUL IN DESTRUCTION.
Orville Gold, genie historian of Feyland
OUR MOOD SWITCHED from silly to sombre as we realized we were really going to seek out the ingredients for aevia ray.
‘We should start with the pixie song,’ Meteor said. ‘Since we have sorren charms, we can get it without risking our lives.’
I disagreed. ‘How will we get a pixie to teach us? We’d have to take off the charms to join the dance.’
Leona let her wings unfurl. ‘You’re not going, Zaree. You’ve already had two days with the pixies. I’ll go.’
I looked at her injured wing. ‘If you dance the way I did, you’ll hurt your wing more.’
‘I won’t dance the way you did.’
Andalonus spoke up. ‘I’ll go with you, Leona.’
‘I thought you were afraid of pixies,’ she said.
‘Not at all, not one teeny pitiful smidgen. Besides, I’m a great dancer.’ Andalonus winked at Leona.
Meteor rubbed his jaw. ‘It could work, but—’
‘It will work.’ Andalonus cut him off. ‘It’s a chance for me, the ungifted one, to help.’
‘It’s a wonderful plan.’ Leona put her sorren charm around her neck.
‘It is?’ Andalonus floated just above the floor.
‘Yes,’ Leona answered firmly. ‘Except that this necklace looks like a trog should be wearing it.’ She asked to borrow one of my mother’s scarves. Picking out a silvery one that set off her eyes, she put it around her neck to conceal the charm.
Then she waved a quick goodbye before transporting herself and Andalonus away.
When Meteor and I entered the Ugly Mug together, wax candles threw a dim, sultry glow, and the aromas of coffee and cocoa filled the air. A band of two leprechauns and three genies were beating drums of all shapes and sizes from big and booming to small and delicate. The rhythms tapped through my skin into my veins, mingling with the scents. Enchanting. I found myself wanting to order a large coffee, all for myself – and drink it. I had to stop coming here.
As usual, there was a wide mix of customers: fairies and genies, and renegade leprechauns who had escaped the Iron Lands. I noticed Meechem, the one who’d given up his magic cap, at a small table in the corner holding a steaming mug. Several more leprechauns were collecting empty cups and wiping down tables to pay off their bets after losing to Laz.
As Meteor took in the scene, he seemed unmoved by the delicious smells and pounding drums. He looked like he didn’t trust his surroundings in the slightest.
Someone grabbed my elbow and swung me around. ‘I told you not to come here in the open,’ Laz hissed in my ear, and started pulling me towards a nearby hallway.
I didn’t argue; after all, he was the one we’d come to see. I managed to seize Meteor’s hand, and he came along with us.
Laz led us to the portal room, which was crammed with barrels of coffee beans. He touched a fey globe on the wall; it sputtered dully and then revived to cast a faint glow. Shutting the door, Laz perched on one of the barrels, wearing his leprechaun cap. It was the first time I’d seen him without a mug in his hand.
‘What do you want this time, Zaria?’ His murky eyes were half shut as usual.
‘We have questions.’ I perched awkwardly on another barrel.
Laz folded his bony arms. ‘Well, I’m not one to turn down more radia,’ he said. ‘Same terms apply.’
Meteor floated up to sit on the tallest barrel. ‘Terms?’
Laz gave a gravelly chuckle. ‘Didn’t tell your sweetheart, Zaria?’
‘No, I didn’t tell him … I mean, he isn’t …’ Keeping my eyes on Laz, I explained through gritted teeth: ‘Meteor, this genie and I have an agreement: I get to ask him any question for fifty radia. Anytime I want,’ I finished, glaring at Laz.
Laz nodded as if he had the upper hand. ‘For one more day.’
‘Fifty!’ Meteor burst out.
I wouldn’t look at him. ‘So, Mister Lazuli,’ I said. ‘First question: How to bribe a gremlin?’
Laz’s laugh turned into a cough. ‘Biscuits. I’m surprised you don’t know this already.’
‘But suppose they already had biscuits. What would make them give them up?’
More sniggering. ‘Nothing. Unless it was for a better biscuit.’
‘What makes one biscuit better than another?’ I asked.
Laz dragged his fingers through his stringy hair. ‘If you wanted to bribe a gremlin, Zaria, and if you were a gambler – which, of course, you’re not – I’d advise you to gamble on the chocolate chip flavour if you had only one choice. Though why you’d care one way or another is a puzzle.’
I hurried to ask my next question. ‘What do leprechauns cherish?’
Laz leaned way back and peered at me with one eye closed. ‘You’ve been here often enough to know the answer. They love things from Earth – especially coffee and sweets. Why?’
I exchanged glances with Meteor. ‘I’m asking the questions, Laz. So tell me, what’s the best way past a troll guard?’
The genie threw back his head and treated us to a long, sneering guffaw. ‘Troll guard. Good one.’
But when Meteor and I didn’t laugh, Laz quit sneering. ‘Wait,’ he said. ‘Getting past trolls? What do leprechauns cherish?’ He muttered to himself – something about gremlin treasure – then pointed his wand at me. ‘Aevia ray.’
Meteor froze. So did I. If we hadn’t been so surprised, we might have been able to throw the smuggler off the scent, but neither of us could say a word.
‘Aevia ray,’ Laz hummed. ‘I’ve been hearing it talked of lately; they say Lily Morganite is promising to hand it out like son
nia tea.’ He clicked his tongue. ‘But I know she doesn’t have any. Yet.’ His wand traced a circle in the air much too close to my face. ‘You plan to beat her at her own game – don’t you, Zaria Tourmaline?’
‘Lower your wand.’ I lifted my own.
‘Of course.’ He pocketed his wand and smiled a disturbingly wide smile. He leaped off his barrel and knelt on the dusty floor looking up at me. ‘Allow me to offer you my services.’
‘What services?’
‘I’ll throw in the questions I’ve already answered – for free.’ He rose from the floor and floated up till we were eye to eye. ‘You cunning little trickster. You stole the comet dust from the humans. Didn’t you?’
I stared at him, too surprised to do anything but blink.
‘We’re leaving now.’ Meteor’s tone was full of disgust.
‘So, you did steal the dust.’ Laz flicked a lazy glance at Meteor and then focused on my face. ‘When the Morganite looks for it and doesn’t find it, believe me – you’re going to need my help.’
Chapter Twenty-seven
EVERY HOUSEHOLD IN GALENA OWNS A FAMILY CLOCK, A CHERISHED OBJECT THAT CHIMES THE HOURS WITH CHEERFUL PRECISION. TO INSULT ANOTHER’S CLOCK IS CONSIDERED AN UNFORGIVABLE RUDENESS.
Orville Gold, genie historian of Feyland
A COFFEE BEAN pinged against the floor, bounced twice, and came to a standstill.
Laz whipped out his wand. ‘Revelum locat,’ he brayed.
Nothing stirred except my wings.
Laz began darting above the coffee barrels, jabbing at nothing. Meteor and I sat as still as we could, watching. Moving fast, Laz showed a very different side to the one I’d seen before. Gone were his normally slow, shuffling movements.
‘Why did you perform a reveal spell?’ Meteor asked.
‘Thought we had a spy. Beans don’t normally jump around by themselves.’ Laz went to the door and examined the knob. He double-checked the lock, then squeezed into the far corner that held the portal to Earth. ‘We should be going.’
‘Going?’ I squeaked.
‘To Earth,’ he said. ‘To bribe gremlins you’ll need biscuits, and I don’t stock them here. No demand for them among fey folk.’
‘But … couldn’t a spy easily find you on Earth?’ I asked.
‘Scopes have failed,’ he answered tersely. ‘Didn’t you know?’
‘All of them?’ Meteor asked.
‘All. And even if that Morganite creature decides to repair one of them for her own purposes, she can’t see past my cap.’ He pointed to his head.
Meteor looked puzzled. I was surprised to hear Laz explain. ‘My cap. Protects against magic. All magic, including the scopes. Or spells made by bad-tempered fairies – and genies.’
Meteor jumped from his barrel. ‘Where did you—’
‘Doesn’t matter. What matters is now.’ Laz glided closer to the corner.
‘Uh,’ I said. ‘The last time—’
‘Last time you botched everything. But I’ve messed up their cameras again. Nobody there this time of night anyway.’ He gestured at the portal. ‘I’ll go first.’
He stepped through the wall.
‘A portal? Here?’ Meteor asked. ‘A working portal, no less?’
‘He is a smuggler.’ I drifted towards the portal, but Meteor blocked me.
‘What if he has Lily Morganite and a pack of armed gnomes on the other side of that wall?’
‘He won’t. He hates Lily.’
‘Did that stop him before?’
‘No. But then she double-crossed him.’
‘And now he could double-cross you!’
I slid my hand into my pocket, checking the vial of comet dust and the little bottle of aevum derk. Both safe. ‘Laz couldn’t have known we were coming here tonight; we didn’t know it ourselves till a minute before we arrived. Let’s go. He’s waiting!’
Meteor shook his head. ‘I don’t like it. How did he know about the ingredients for aevia ray? He doesn’t look like any scholar.’
I eyed the portal. ‘I told you, he knows things.’
‘He could be working for Lily,’ Meteor insisted. ‘If we go through that portal after him, we should be invisible. Lily could repair a scope and use me as a way to track you on Earth, Zaria. And what if she’s on the other side waiting for us?’
Andalonus might joke about danger, but Meteor wouldn’t. What if he was right? It wasn’t as if Laz could be trusted.
‘Mind if I protect you with a spell?’ I asked.
‘Not at all.’
I waved my wand at Meteor. ‘For the next month, you cannot be found by any magical means, whether you’re on Earth or on Tirfeyne.’
He bowed. ‘Thank you.’ His eyes moved to the portal. ‘I’ll go first,’ he offered.
Chapter Twenty-eight
GNOMES ARE EXCELLENT WORKERS. THEY CLEAN, MAKE REPAIRS, SEW CLOTHING, DIG THE MINES, AND HELP TO KEEP ORDER. IN OTHER PARTS OF TIRFEYNE SUCH AS TROLL COUNTRY, GNOMES PERFORM OTHER JOBS – FOR EXAMPLE THEY MAY HELP HARVEST PUTCH, A SOMEWHAT SLIMY PLANT THAT FORMS THE MAINSTAY OF THE TROLL DIET. FOR THIS, THEY ARE PAID QUANTITIES OF FINELY GROUND GRANITE AND LIMESTONE.
Orville Gold, genie historian of Feyland
WHEN WE PASSED into the warehouse, no one greeted us with iron clubs. The place was dark and still, just as Laz had promised.
He guided us to a different building, an enormous structure filled with human wares but empty of humans. There, he pilfered three backpacks for us so we could carry biscuits more easily.
Next, we followed as he flew to a bakery, where the air was savoury and warm. Two walls of a large room were filled with shiny ovens stacked on top of each other. Along another wall stood big white tubs. And on the last wall, metal racks held dozens of biscuits. No humans were watching over them, though Laz assured us they’d return any minute.
‘How many do we need?’ Meteor asked.
‘All of them,’ Laz answered. ‘The humans will blame each other and then bake more. So we’ll take as many biscuits as we can carry.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘We want to beat the amount the Council gives the gremlins. Usually, the price for keeping them out of Feyland is two packets of stale biscuits a month – for a whole village.’ He slapped a countertop. ‘When we bring them these biscuits, we’ll be instant legends.’
Meteor frowned. ‘That won’t make them give us a biscuit.’
‘Yes, it will,’ Laz answered. ‘Good biscuits are to gremlins as gold is to humans. Humans seek favours by giving gold; why wouldn’t gremlins give biscuits?’
Along with every other fairy, I had been taught that humans valued gold beyond anything, but I didn’t believe it. In the time I’d spent on Earth, I hadn’t seen any gold. I’d never even heard it mentioned.
‘Let’s get to it.’ Laz hurried to scoop up biscuits and place them in paper bags we found stacked on a shelf. I helped him, quickly learning the different types. Ginger snaps were small and they stuck together, shortbreads were golden rectangles, snickerdoodles big and soft and fragrant, peanut butter very crumbly. As for the chocolate chip cookies, they were speckled with dark bumps and smelled a lot like the Ugly Mug.
Laz focused on loading our packs, stuffing them till all the pouches bulged.
Meteor yawned. ‘We should sleep.’
‘Don’t be ignorant,’ Laz told him. ‘Gremlins sleep during the day. They’re awake now.’
We hurried back to the coffee warehouse, lugging our packs.
At Laz’s insistence, we wore the packs backwards, so the pouches were in front. He said it would make it easier to guard them. ‘We’ll see the little thieves coming, and we can fly away from them.’
But disaster awaited us. When we reached the portal back to Laz’s café, we found it closed.
Laz flung himself at the warehouse wall several times, as if a new angle of approach would make a difference.
‘Laz,’ I said. ‘Laz! The portal’s gone.’
He stopped bashing himself against the co
ncrete. ‘Hobs and hooligans!’ he swore. ‘How can it be gone? I’ve kept it refreshed!’
‘Someone sealed it,’ Meteor answered.
‘The location of this portal was known to exactly three.’ Laz pointed to himself first, then moved his finger towards Meteor, then to me, where he stopped.
‘You suspect me?’ I asked.
‘If not you, then who was it?’ Were those tears slithering down his face?
‘I want to get back to Feyland as much as you do.’ How could I prove I’d had nothing to do with this? ‘I’ll open the portal again,’ I offered, ‘but only if you—’
‘No!’ he shouted. ‘I don’t want it back. I could never pass through that portal again without wondering who was lurking on the other side.’
‘Maybe,’ Meteor said, ‘when you thought there was a spy, you were right.’
‘Lily,’ I said softly.
But Laz disagreed. ‘Not her. If she found my portal, she’d bide her time.’ He slammed his hand against the unyielding wall. ‘Well, my fine young ones, we need to get out of here. And since the portals in the Golden Station are closed …’
He let the sentence hang. I knew what he meant: it was now up to me to get us home.
‘Didn’t you open another portal, the one close to Pix—’ Meteor stopped as I shoved him.
Laz gathered his frayed robe closer. ‘Shh. There could be spies listening.’
‘You think we’re being watched now?’ I checked my pocket for the hundredth time. The vial of comet dust was still there, and so was the small bottle of aevum derk.
‘Very possibly. And whoever it is can hide from a reveal spell,’ Laz answered. ‘Take us to your portal, Zaria.’
But I couldn’t do that.
I didn’t want Laz knowing any more of my secrets, especially the secret of my fondness for Sam. As Sam’s genie godfather, Laz knew where he lived – but he would never guess on his own that Sam’s basement housed a portal. I suspected the only thing Laz had ever done for Sam was to leave him alone. Certainly, I wouldn’t be the one to urge him to pay more attention to his godchild. Sam was better off without him.