"Nothing surprising when you consider how my ideas had been changing. I was in the street, waiting for the bus. A very simple thing! And just in front of me a fairy began to beat a goblin porter who had, hem, dropped one of his packages. I still do not know that poor goblin porter's name, and I fear he may have suffered badly — that the authorities must have afterward assumed that he knew me, but in truth I was a stranger to him. In fact, perhaps it happened because he was a stranger to me. In that moment, while the fellow I only found out later was a member of the Hydrangea clan bludgeoned him with a heavy walking stick until he could not get up, then continued to kick and beat him, that huddled, whimpering figure became every goblin I knew — myself, my father struggling through night courses at a shabby school to learn polite words to soothe his fairy masters, my brothers and sisters living in urban hovels, six to a bedroom, and still calling them 'nests' as if that would make them so, and all the nameless corpses in the lime pits of Willow — to me he was every one of us, and his self-promoted master was the dead hand of the Flower nobility, who had not been content to take our lands and our forests away, but now must crush us like insects.
"That is where my other name comes from, Theo, the one I have kept hidden until now. We hide them because they are names of shame, deliberately taken. They remind us every day that we are, hem, lowly and wretched. Do you know what my last free ancestor was named? Shiningstone Fox. When the Flower-folk took us into captivity they even took away our names, and those of us who worked in their houses they named after small and demeaning things, unimportant objects. But the names we saved for ourselves, Worm, Roach, Carrion, Stain — these are our legacy of despair . . . and, just perhaps, strength. Bug! I am a bug as far as the Flower lords are concerned, a lowly and crawling thing, but on that day they learned that even the lowliest thing can bite."
Anger came off him now like a shimmer of heat — Theo could almost squint his eyes and see it. Paradoxically, as he spoke Button became more and more still, as if he were retreating back into some internal place that Theo could not even imagine. "It was too horrible to watch any longer. I threw myself at the beast from Hydrangea House with only the idea that I might absorb some of the beating and it would give the porter a chance to escape. But he could not rise — many bones broken — and the fairy lordling turned his attention to me. He was astonished by my arrival, but the astonishment quickly became rage and he struck out at me with the stick, damaging my throat. It is still in my speaking to this day. But that first look of surprise he gave me did something to me that the blows only strengthened. He could not believe that anyone, even another goblin, would be so foolhardy as to interfere with him. Do you understand? He felt he had every right to beat that porter to death. And it was true, the bus stop was full of all kinds of fairy-folk, big and small. Some turned away in dismay, but most simply watched. They were not surprised, not outraged.
"I went mad, Theo Vilmos. He struck me and struck me again while I hung onto his leg — I was too close for him to hit me as hard as he would have liked — and before he could immobilize me with some charm or call for help I climbed up his body and I ripped open his neck so that he bled to death. Yes, with these teeth."
Theo sat through the long silence, not sure what to think. Button had certainly ceased to be the charming, cartoonish character he had thought him to be, but now that he considered it, even with this sick feeling in his stomach he had to wonder if that Button had ever truly existed. No, he had been a version that Theo wanted to believe, a sort of Mahatma Gandhi of the fairyland revolution.
Button smiled, but this time kept the sharp ends of his fangs hidden, perhaps in deference to Theo's troubled expression. "You do not like the Mud Bug Button you see now so much, eh? Then I should tell you that I have killed again, twice. Both times to defend myself and avoid capture — and once captured, Theo, have no doubt that after a few months as an unhappy guest of Lord Monkshood and his parliamentary constables I would wind up in a lime pit somewhere, or a furnace. Neither victim was anyone that I think you would mourn much, but that may not lessen the offense in your eyes. They were fairies, your kind. I had no right to resist them, let alone kill them. But I did."
"People like that aren't my kind, whether I think of myself as a fairy or a mortal." "Ah, but the lines are not so easy to draw, Theo Vilmos, as I think I told you the other day. You have already, hem, helped me. As a result of that help, people may die. Not the innocent, I hope, but war is a demon in a box and when the lid opens it flies where it wishes to fly."
Theo had not come to the bridgehouse with the idea of exploring Button's background — he was too consumed with his own problems for that — but he realized that the goblin had his own agenda and had deliberately set him a sort of quandary. More holes, he thought. He straightened, met the goblin's melted-butter stare. "If you're asking me if I want to join you, the answer is still 'not entirely.' I'm sympathetic. I've been here long enough to see that things are wrong, that a change is needed. And your enemies are my enemies, I guess. I don't know — what do you want to hear from me? I still want your help. I'll still do my best to help you, if it makes sense to me . . ."
Button shook his head, amused. "You are no soldier, Theo Vilmos, that is certain. Soldiers are not allowed to make such distinctions. But I have soldiers — those who will do what they are told and only think about it afterward, if at all. And I suppose that until we know why you are so important to Hellebore and Thornapple and their minions, you have some bargaining power."
"Speaking of doing what you're told," Theo said, "what exactly were we trying to accomplish with Streedy at Elysium House? I saw something on the screen — well, on the mirror, I guess — about getting permission for one immigrant laborer and one livestock animal."
Button nodded. "Yes. And you and Streedy Nettle and Cumber Sedge and Coathook did your jobs very well." "But what does it mean? What are you going to accomplish by smuggling one person and one animal into the city — unless it's a giant riding on a dinosaur or something . . ."
"A dinosaur . . . ? Ah, wait, yes, I have heard of those fabled beasts." The goblin laughed, a quiet hissing sound. "You are full of wit, Theo Vilmos. No, that is not quite what I plan, but I think you are best not knowing — after all, we are all liable to capture, and the technicians of Hellebore House in particular are very, very skilled. But you cannot tell what you do not know, no matter how much you might wish to do so."
"But . . ." The goblin suddenly looked up. Theo turned to see Caradenus Primrose waiting in the doorway, his face a smoothly handsome mask of patience. "Ah, you are returned, my comrade," said Button. "Please, come and sit with us. I will make more tea."
Primrose seated himself cross-legged on one side of the rug. He nodded to Theo in a way that was not unfriendly, but he seemed in no hurry to speak. In fact, both he and Button were quite content to sit in silence while the teapot heated on the brazier. Even though he had not actually talked to Button about what was most important, Theo began to wonder if they were waiting for him to leave so they could talk in private and he was just ignorant of the fairyland social protocols.
"I . . . I did have something else I wanted to discuss with you," he said. Jesus, man, Applecore's a prisoner, bait to trap you, and you make it sound like you don't think there's enough donuts in the break room at work. "Something important. Really important."
Button inclined his head. "Of course, Theo Vilmos."
"Should I leave?" asked Primrose.
"No! No, in fact, I'd like to hear what you think about this, too." He sipped his now-cold tea. "But I don't want to hold you two up, either." Primrose almost smiled. "It is true that I have something I wish to give to Button, and the sooner the better." He raised an eyebrow in inquiry. Button nodded. "Good," Primrose said. "It feels very heavy to me. Not in weight, but in substance, and I have felt that all eyes were on me." He reached into the pocket of his long coat.
"Did you have trouble?" "Less than I expected — it was quite strange. I
would not be able to walk into my own house without being arrested, but I was able to walk into the Parliamentary Museum and not only did no one recognize or question me, I was able to take it out of the case using only the simplest charm to quell the protections." He withdrew something wrapped in dull velvet or fur and held it out to Button. "I suppose it is because the wing dedicated to the Goblin Wars is not often visited these days. The cases were dusty, the room empty."
Button cradled the bundle, apparently in no hurry to unwrap it. Theo felt his heart quicken — was it some legendary goblin weapon? It wasn't big enough to be a sword or an ax — maybe some sacred dagger or a kind of magic gun that could kill Hellebores from a mile away?
The goblin peeled back the black covering. "It's a stick," said Theo in surprise, and then raised his hand to his mouth, afraid he had insulted a sacred goblin treasure. Treasured or not, it was definitely a stick, a piece of a slender branch about eighteen inches in length. Bark had been peeled from it in a spiral pattern, and signs that could have been writing — but which, unlike normal fairy-writing, Theo could not read — had been carved into the white wood where the bark was gone and then rubbed with something dark to make them visible. "It is indeed," said Button, almost smiling. His eyes seemed unusually bright. "Small things make all the difference." He contemplated the object for a moment. "Should I do it now? No, perhaps not yet. An audience is what I need, I think." As Theo watched in befuddlement, the goblin carefully wrapped the stick in the covering cloth again and tucked it into his robe. "I thank you, Caradenus Primrose," he said. "You have perhaps changed the world — let us hope it is for the better."
The fairy nodded solemnly. For a long silent moment they just looked at each other; then, as if on cue, they turned their attention to Theo. He was still struggling to understand what he had just witnessed, especially the air of high seriousness that had surrounded the passing of a piece of wood, but he had already been Button's guest for what must be a couple of hours without mentioning his true purpose. "Shall I start?" he asked. The goblin nodded and poured him more tea.
Button already knew most of what Theo had experienced since coming to Faerie, but Primrose still did not know many of the details so Theo quickly sketched out his recent history, trying to make clear how much Applecore had done for him. Then he told them both about the bit of broadcast news or whatever it was he had seen on the mirrorcases in the display window — Hellebore and the nasty bell jar beside him on the desk.
". . . And don't tell me it's a trap, because I know that. I may not know why they want me, but I'm not an idiot." He stared at Primrose and Button as if daring them to suggest otherwise. "But you both think a lot about honor, so I know you'll understand that I can't just leave her to suffer, even if I know that me trying to rescue her is exactly what they want."
The fairy and the goblin were quiet for some time after he finished. Theo was beginning to wonder what the two of them were like together on their own — did they even talk, or just sit side by side, silent as bookends?
"I am not surprised by much," said Primrose at last, "but I am surprised to learn that Quillius Tansy would do this. Not because I like the fellow — I never have — but because I did not know he coveted anything enough to be bought by Hellebore."
"His life, perhaps," Button offered.
"Perhaps." Primrose did that sinuous thing that among the Flower-folk passed for a shrug, but to Theo looked more like a snake easing an itch in its nonexistent shoulders. "But this does not answer Master Vilmos."
The goblin nodded. "You know, Theo Vilmos, that even were every living creature in this camp to take up arms and march on Hellebore House it would not be enough. Zirus Jonquil is alive and gathering some resistance fighters from the other Flower houses — you met him, I believe — and there are others who might play some part, but even if we all join together our numbers would still be very small compared to what Hellebore and his allies can muster. We hope to throw down that grim place of Hellebore's when our day comes, Theo, but I cannot say how far away that day will be, or whether your sprite friend will be alive to see it — although of course, hem, there is always hope. So there is little I can offer you in the way of direct action. We cannot allow our plans to be changed — and thus put at risk — for any one individual, especially at such a critical point.
"I don't care," Theo said, and realized that, in an odd way, that was true. "Well, I do care — of course I do, I don't want to die. But I can't just leave her there, either, so I might as well not think about it too much. Just help me figure out what's going to be least likely to get me caught, even if the odds of failing would only be ninety-nine percent instead of a hundred."
"You must give us more time to think, Theo Vilmos," said Button gently. "You have waited some time to tell us of your problem. Allow us a few moments to think about it."
He sat back, frustrated, but relieved that at least they weren't trying to tell him that Applecore was just a casualty of war and that he should forget about her. Unfortunately, their acceptance of his debt of honor had also made it clearer to him that he really didn't have much choice: he was going to have to do more than talk about it. He was going to have to risk his life — and probably lose it — trying to get her free. The thought of what he was up against made him go cold all over, made his balls try to climb back into his body. Now he understood why the military made sure you had a bunch of other guys with you, so that you'd be ashamed to run. And why there was usually a sergeant with a gun, too . . .
"What about the one who lives down at the waterfront?" Primrose said suddenly. "You know who I mean. The old one."
While Theo was wondering how mind-bogglingly ancient you had to be before a fairy called you "old," Button stirred and said, "You refer to the one often called the Remover of Inconvenient Obstacles? He has shown no sign of being sympathetic to our cause. Hem. Rather the reverse."
"Yes, but that is because he is largely mercenary. Certainly in the most recent years he has done little — or so rumor suggests — that was not purely for profit, even if that profit was more often in favors than in gold." Primrose frowned. It hardly even creased his smooth forehead. "It is not a pleasing idea, I know, but unless we can come up with another . . ."
"Hang on, who is this 'Remover of Obstacles'? I mean, it sounds like an old Black Sabbath song title or something." Theo pushed on past his companions' blank looks. "Just tell me what you know. I deserve to be in on the conversation, since I'm the one who's going to be putting his ass on the line."
"The mortal world gives you a very colorful way of talking," noted Primrose. "But you are right, of course. I'll tell you what I know and Button can supply whatever's missing."
"Never, never expect a goblin to fill the gaps in the tale," Button said with a quick smile. "It is against our nature." Theo thought Primrose looked like he would have liked to appreciate the joke, but hadn't yet had the humor update for his software. "Yes," said the fairy. "Well, what little I know of the one called the Remover is second- or even third-hand. He is very old — nobody I know can remember a time when he was not around, and when I was growing up our nurses used to frighten us by threatening that he would come to take us if we were bad. I am told he is extremely unpleasant to look at."
And in a world full of ogres and trolls, Theo thought, that must mean somebody is pretty damn ugly. "But what does he do?" "Only what he wishes to do, and only for those who can afford his price. He has amassed secrets of science over his centuries of study that no one else can touch. It is said that many a lord thought to be too well-protected to be assassinated has instead found that the Remover's terrible face is the last thing he sees. But these are not the only sorts of obstacles he removes, only the most dramatic. As I said, his command of the scientific arts is broad. Doubtless many things in our society, things we now take for granted, began as a notation in the Remover's diary."
"So he's part wizard, part mercenary killer." "I will say this for him. I have never heard of him killing an in
nocent. That proves nothing, though. There are no doubt as many false tales as true, and doubtless far more tales that have never been told at all." The fairy lord turned to Button. "Do you agree?"
The goblin nodded slowly. "You know more than I — he has never had dealings with my folk, to my knowledge. He is powerful. He is without loyalty except to his agreements, as far as anyone can tell. That is perhaps the true sum of what is known about him."
"And how on earth would I persuade this person to do something for me?" Theo asked. "Even assuming he could help me get into Hellebore House."
"Or perhaps he could get your friend out without you having to risk yourself," said Button. "Would that not be the best alternative?"
"Good God, yes — I'm no hero. But why should he help me?" The goblin tented his long fingers so that the talons clicked against each other. "You are an unusual person, Theo Vilmos, and there are still mysteries around you. Perhaps there is something you know that can buy the Remover's help."
"And maybe he'll just whack me on the head and call Hellebore on the shell phone and make some easy money. But I suppose it's a better risk than me trying to sneak into Hellebore House in a wagon full of guest towels or something." He spoke with a lightness he did not feel. He had more than an inkling now of what it might mean to know your platoon was heading for the front lines at dawn. "So just tell me where it is and I'll go."
Button raised his hand. "I hope you will prepare with a little more caution than that. Also, there are still things in your story I would like to understand better, before you go to see the Remover."
"Before I go get myself killed, is what you mean."
The goblin smoothed the fur on his jaw. "We are none of us promised anything but the last breath we take, Theo Vilmos."
That was so obviously and depressingly true it made Theo want to kill himself now, just to end the suspense.