Serial Saturday: "Fairies Under Glass" Part 23

Part 23

"Ambush at the Menagerie"

Lewis secured his backpack straps over his shoulders.

"Wait!" Queen Evalia glided in front of him. "Before you go, place the Chain around your neck."

Lewis frowned. "You want me to wear the Chain?" he asked. "Why?"

"It will protect you," answered the Fairy Queen.

"In case I get caught?"

"From the Underworlders, and anything the Captor might try against you," she affirmed.

Lewis dug the Chain out of his backpack. It hung a little longer than the collar of his shirt, but when he tucked the Chain under his clothes, it could hardly be seen.

"Okay, I'm going," he announced.

"We will watch from a distance, in case you need our help," Queen Evalia promised.

Lewis had no idea what he might encounter. He slipped out of the staff area, setting a timer on his watch so he wouldn't miss the bus.

Hardly anyone remained at the carnival, as it was only minutes until the actual closing time. Lewis tried to use the thick shadows around the tents and rides to his advantage, sneaking and ducking his way toward the entrance to the Phantasmenagerie.

Lewis crouched in the shadow of a spinning ride as he watched the grounds beyond the gate for any sign of Ashwyn. Now more than ever he wished he had some sort of imperceptible signal that could summon her to his side. The only movement he could see came from the occasional Underworlder shambling their way between tents. The ogres plodded slowly, while the goblins tended to scurry from place to place. Luckily their monstrous huffing and grunts allowed Lewis to track where any of them were, in case one got too close to him. He waited till there was a sufficient gap in the activity, and stealthily crept over the threshold into the Phantasmenagerie.

The Chain seemed to heat up a little against his skin. Lewis wondered how it could possibly protect him from the Underworlders even as he remained vigilant for any spark of light that could be Ashwyn. What was taking her so long, and why was she nowhere to be found?

He peered around the tent that had collapsed earlier. The Underworlders had got it standing again, though Lewis didn't doubt that everything inside it was still very much a sodden mess.
A flicker caught his eye, and when he didn't hear any sound nearby, Lewis ventured a hoarse whisper, "Ashwyn?"

Nothing else moved. Lewis had no choice but to venture deeper, his eyes peeled and his ears on high alert. As he made it nearly to the middle of the menagerie grounds without seeing a single fairy, much less Ashwyn, Lewis laid eyes on the huge main "big top" tent and knew what he had to do. If the little fairy had planned to do something even more devastating than collapsing a tent, it would have likely happened in here.

Before he could move, though, the sound of gravel crunching underfoot and a series of grunts reached his ears, followed instantly by a sharp zing from the Chain. Underworlders approaching! He had just enough time to dash across the lane and duck under the closest flap of the tent before two goblins waddled right by him, muttering to each other about the confounded mess they were on their way to clean.

Lewis backed up until he was underneath the bleachers where the audience would sit to watch a performance. He noticed some sources of flickering light coming from deeper inside the tent, but when he finally made it close enough to see what produced the light, his stomach turned a little.

Posted around the oblong "ring" at the center of the tent were several globes on posts, like lamps. Only these lamps weren't lit by lightbulbs or flames. Inside each globe were a dozen or so fairies, forced to take turns fluttering their wings and illuminating the globe, or risk leaving the space in eerie darkness.
Lewis couldn't bear watching the scene anymore, so he moved away from the globe right beside him and called in the loudest whisper he dared, "Ashwyn?"

The fairies in every globe probably heard him, because the light from their wings flared brighter for a few seconds, and he could faintly hear the bell-like sounds emanating all around the ring. A low, sonorous groan from high overhead caused Lewis to look up, gasp, and stagger backwards.
Lisa sat on the opposite side of the ring, and although she wasn't in a straitjacket, arguably the way Krasimir Schlimme had her bound was far worse.

Thick chains shackled her wrists and ankles, while her fingers, elbows, and even her knees were all tied with thick black nylon ropes to a series of pulleys overhead. She could move, but not very well, and her eyes had been covered by a thick cloth. Lewis scooted closer to the giantess, and in the light of the fairies, he could see a small tube leading from a reservoir mounted on her back to the corner of her mouth. The liquid sloshing in the reservoir had a sickly teal-ish tint to it.
"What is that?" he wondered under his breath.

A fairy in the globe right next to him rapped on the glass. "You see what he has done to the giant," she said.
Lewis nodded.

"It is a potion made of venim," she explained. "It cannot paralyze us anymore, thanks to the power of the Phantasmagyth, but it still affects us. It keeps her in a daze and docile enough to be controlled and not resist the Captor." She gestured to the globe around her. "He's filled these prisons with the vapor for us as well, so that if we stop moving, we fall asleep until another wakes us." She gestured to the base of the globe, where Lewis noticed for the first time the small heap of snoozing fairies.

"I'm looking for Ashwyn," he said. "When I find her, I'm going to figure out a plan to help everyone escape. Krasimir cannot keep doing this! Have you seen her?"

The fairy buzzed in excitement. "I don't recognize the name. What does she look like?"

Lewis fidgeted, feeling the warning heat from the Chain alerting him to approaching Underworlders. "She has a purple dress, she could have been flying inside here somewhere--"

More fairies began to light up. "Oh yes!" one of them chirped. "I saw her earlier today! She--"

Too late! The Chain became so hot it stung, and Lewis could hear a series of footsteps approaching the tent. Desperately, he dove behind Lisa's knee to hide just as a team of ogres trudged into the tent.

"Steady now!" grunted the foremost ogre. "Hold the beast down so it can't fly away!"
Fly? Lewis peeked out to see what they had: the gryphon, tethered with multiple ropes around its limbs, wings, head, and body. The ogres wrestled it into a cage at the opposite end of the tent, where Lewis caught a glimpse of a white flank. Gathlen! The grand Unicorn had been painted over in garish colors, and Lewis could see the thick muzzle strapped over his face. The Underworlders herded the gryphon into a stall right beside him, but rather than remove the ropes, now that the creature was contained, they staked them down around the perimeter of the cage. The gryphon protested anyway, growling through its clamped beak and wrestling against the ropes, working enough slack in them to slam itself against the sides of the stall. If only it could work those savage claws free!

"Hey! What's taking so long?" snarled a voice, and Lewis shrank back into the shadow of the giantess. Adolf! He came striding into the ring with a burlap sack in his hand. "How many ogres does it take to corral a gryphon?"

"Apologies, sir!" grunted one of the ogres. "We're mostly used to fighting these beasts from the ground as they dive to attack us, no one has ever actually gotten ahold of one within arm's reach while it's still alive, sir! This one has a lot of fight in 'em."

Adolf snorted. "I figured as much. That's why I brought this. Stand aside!" He lifted up the burlap sack, and in the light of the panicked fairies, Lewis detected the same sickly blue-green shade of the venim potion saturating the material. The werewolf slipped it over the gryphon's head, and with one last muffled shriek all its aggression ebbed away.

"There," Adolf snapped. "That'll keep her till the Master gets back. He's off for a couple days as we get the carnival back in working order. I've got to report back to him now. Take the others and make yourselves scarce till the carnival closes tomorrow night. I'll call when the coast is clear and you can come back to keep cleaning."

The ogres were only too eager to leave that tent behind. Adolf remained after they left, and all the while Lewis dared not twitch, dared not blink, dared not even breathe while the werewolf took his own sweet time stalking toward the edge of the ring. Just when Lewis was about to gasp for breath, Adolf froze and lifted his head, sniffing the slight breeze that blew into the doorway.
Lewis squeezed his eyes shut, willing his scent to blend in with the musty smells around him. He didn't open them until he heard Adolf mutter, "Fairies."

That was all. Adolf slunk out into the night, and Lewis finally heaved great gasps of air as quietly as he could manage. Once his racing heartbeat calmed, Lewis crept out of the large tent. Ashwyn obviously wasn't here, or else she would have no doubt revealed herself by now. Perhaps she had somehow missed Lewis' his clandestine search and already reunited with the other fairies. Lewis comforted himself with this thought as he ducked through the tent's entrance and glanced up at the night sky. He recalled the timer on his watch and glanced down to see how much time he had remaining before his bus arrived.
A harsh roar was his only warning. The moment Lewis took his eyes off his surroundings, Adolf lunged at him, knocking the boy over as he tried to grab him.
"Gotcha, trespasser!" The werewolf snarled. "You cannot be here!"

Lewis flailed and wriggled with all his might, kicking Adolf to throw him off-balance and staggering to his feet. Adrenaline pushed him to just run straight in any direction, but one short sprint only sent him deeper into the Phantasmenagerie grounds. Lewis stopped to try and orient himself among the tents and booths.

Adolf closed the distance between them, not even bothering to shift forms. "You think you're so clever, lurking in the background and taking whatever boot-scraping job you can find so you can interfere around where you're not invited!" The werewolf taunted.

Lewis scurried down a side path, wanting to put as many structures between himself and Adolf as possible.

"I guess I was right about that day the Infernal Gem activated--I knew you were behind it!" Adolf's voice still reached him, bouncing off the walls and tarps in strange ways across the night air. "The only thing we still can't figure out his how you managed to get the Gem out of the warehouse. My Master wants it back, by the way, so if you still have it..." The husky voice faded into the distance, and Lewis resolved to make one more attempt to sprint for the gates. He set them in his sights and took off.
Adolf appeared in front of him before he reached it, materializing as if from the shadows themselves. He loomed over Lewis, his bright eyes almost glowing in the moonlight. Hands with distinctly wolfish claws reached toward the boy.
"Give it back!" Adolf's claws nearly caught his backpack straps.

"I'm never giving you the gem!" Lewis yelled, his feet carrying him past Adolf and toward the safety of Storm's Carnival.

"You don't know anything about them!" Adolf bellowed after him. "you think these creatures want you to be their hero? you think meddling in Master Schlimme's affairs will endear you to these... trinkets?"

No matter how many turns he made among game booths and amusement rides, Lewis constantly felt Adolf getting closer and closer. The shifter had finally taken wolf form, allowing him to leap over booths and dodge around corners with vicious accuracy.

Lewis clawed at the Chain around his neck. Why hadn't Queen Evalia and her allies intervened yet?
"Protect me!" He rasped hoarsely. "Protect me!"

Adolf bounded over a bench just as Lewis raced by. Boy and wolf crashed to the ground with Adolf on top, sinking his claws into Lewis' shoulder.

Lewis could feet the Chain wrapped around his hand, even though it was nowhere near his neck anymore. When had it broken? He didn't take time for a second thought, bringing the Chain-wrapped hand up to deck Adolf square on the snout. The force of Lewis' punch sent the werewolf flying with a howl of pain.

By the time Lewis got to his feet, Adolf was human again, and blood gushed from his nose. His gaze honed on the Chain in Lewis' hand.

"How did you get that?" Adolf yelped angrily. "It belongs to my Master!" He charged toward Lewis again, but the young man brought the Chain around in front of him, flailing it like a melee weapon. The end of it caught Adolf in the side of his face, sending him reeling back. Lewis took off running again, and this time he heard a fierce cacophony of shrill bells, like so many vintage alarm clocks ringing at once. A mesh of swirling lights raced past him. Through the noise, he could hear Queen Evalia issue commands to her fairies, directing them to converge on Adolf. The timer on his watch chimed, and someone yanked on his shirt. "Run, Lewis!"

Lewis ran right out of the carnival, barely pausing to let the bus door open all the way before he flung himself on a seat, huffing and puffing as hard as he could to catch his breath.
"Next stop, Browning Academy," the driver droned, and in that moment, Lewis felt a wave of relief wash over him. Safe at last!

As the bus rumbled down the road, Queen Evalia fluttered down from his shoulder and stood on the windowsill.
"It's all right, Lewis," she said. "Adolf cannot harm you now. You fought back well."

Lewis felt a lump forming in his throat, and tears pooling against his eyes as the regret slammed into him. "I couldn't find Ashwyn," he choked. "I looked everywhere for her. Did she--"

"No, I'm afraid we never saw her either," Queen Evalia answered gently. "You tried, and for that we are grateful. Do not fear, she is a very resourceful fairy. I am certain that wherever she is, she will do what she must to survive."
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Meanwhile, several miles away from the carnival, Krasimir Schlimme stood before a large worktable full of machines, pages of research, and various samples of strange, otherworldly plants and substances. In front of him, he had one of the globes like those in his menagerie mounted on a small stand, only this one contained a single fairy. She stared up at him defiantly, glaring with her mouth firmly shut.

Krasimir reached to the side and lifted what looked to be two vintage telephone transmitters and receivers. Both sets had been laced with a layer of fine fairy dust. He placed one transmitter at the surface of the globe and connected it to his receiver, while doing vice versa with the other parts.
"Now, little fairy, we can understand each other," he spoke into the transmitter. "Tell me where the Phantasmagyth is and I will set you free."

She stamped her foot, shook her head, and turned her back to her captor.

Krasimir only chuckled. "Very well. You vill play hard to get, I vill play my own little game!" He activated a switch on the base below the globe, and a fine pink haze began to seep out under the fairy's purple dress.
She bounded to her feet in a panic.

Krasimir laughed. "You know vhat zis is, zen. Sehr gut. I vill ask again, vhere is--"

Before he could finish, a commotion erupted at the door of his lab. Adolf stormed down the basement steps, wiping the blood from his face with a handkerchief.
Krasimir frowned at his henchman. "Vhat happened to you?"

The werewolf flopped into the nearest chair with a scowl. "I caught that screwball kid in the big tent tonight! I'm pretty sure he's in league with the Phantasmians."

The fairy in the globe seemed to flinch as Adolf's words passed through the transmitter still in Krasimir's hand. The artist noticed, and a cruel smile curled his lips. "You don't say," he responded slowly, "And did you... dispose of him?"

Adolf snorted, drawing a wince of pain as the sound passed through his injured nose. "I chased him down, all right! That's when he did this to me!" He pointed to his face, where his nose had swollen and bruised, and a deep gash shaped like the links of a chain graced his forehead.

The little fairy in the globe couldn't resist a string of taunts and a gleeful dance. She settled at once when Adolf bared his teeth at her.
"What's with the pixie?" Adolf asked of Schlimme.

"I vas trying to get some information about ze Phantasmagyth," Krasimir answered, "but judging by your face, I seenk I haf a pretty good idea vhere it is." He lifted the transmitter and asked, "Little fairy, does Lewis haf ze Phantasmagyth?"

The fairy stared hard at the two men. She didn't seem inclined to answer, but Krasimir opened the valve and released more of the pink fumes. "You can tell me," he crooned.

She seemed to waver on her feet a bit, until finally the answer came through the receiver, "He has it... but it's in two pieces..."

Krasimir rubbed his hands together. "Sehr gut! I had ze Gyth at one point, so ze other piece must be ze chain it hangs upon! So long as zey do not touch, it has no power!"

Adolf's eyes were glued to the wafting pink clouds. "What is that stuff in there with her?" he asked.
Krasimir gestured to the side of his worktable, where his field journal lay open to a page bearing a crude sketch of a small sprig of flowers. "Among ze plants I brought back with me from Phantasm to study vas a blossom known as honest-weed. I have found its effects to be zat it vill compel zose who ingest it to tell ze truth, no matter how much zey desire to conceal it." He glanced up from reading his research on the Phantasmagyth to watch the fairy with interest. "From vhat I haf learned, it is more effective ven brewed into a liquid or crushed and eaten, but I suspect it would haf been more difficult to force her to drink zan allow her to breathe in as much as she likes."

A savage growl rumbled in Adolf's chest, and he bared his teeth. "Heh-heh... Honest-tea..."

Krasimir rolled his eyes at the pun and returned to interrogating his captive. "It is in two pieces, as you say, so vhere are ze pieces?"
"Lewis has them."

Adolf slammed a fist on the table, knocking over vials and jarring sensitive equipment. "We bloody know he's got the Chain, you slop-sodden imp! That's exactly what he cut me with!"

"Calm yourself, Adolf!" Krasimir thundered. "If you insist on disrupting my vork, I will send you avay!"
Adolf bent his head with a sulky expression.

"Now," Krasimir composed himself and cleared all the anger from his face as he said gently, "Vhere vas I? Ah yes... Dear Fairy," he smiled at her with a curious tilt of his head, "it occurs to me zat I do not know your name. My name is Krasimir. Vhat may I call you, please?"

She blinked through the haze of honest-vapor. "Ashwyn," she said.

"Ashvyn, how lofely!" Krasimir pasted on a false smile, all teeth and no mirth. "Tell me, does Lewis know vhat ze Phantasmagyth does?"

"Yes, he knows."

Adolf grunted. "If he didn't, he sure knew after the museum display fell apart!"

Krasimir rolled his eyes and brushed his henchman's comment aside. "Ja, vell, so long as he does not know ze full extent of its power, ve can hope he is too scared to ever connect them again." His eyes narrowed on Ashwyn. "Does he carry both pieces on his person? Perhaps if he is captured, ve vill have it back in our hands!"

"No, he only has the one." Her voice was becoming fainter and more sing-song as the honest-weed's effects pushed her toward delirium.

"Vhich vone? Ze Chain?" Krasimir leaned in and adjusted the valve so that the administration of honest-vapor lessened.

"Yes."

"Vhere does he keep ze Gyth?"

Ashwyn began swaying on her feet. "He has it... He knows a safe place."

"Vhere?" Krasimir's voice became strained.

"A place that is safe... No one will know..."

The artist's hands clenched into fists. "Vhat manner of place? Surely he has told you!"

Ashwyn droned on, almost not acknowledging the questions. "No one will find it... A secret place only he knows..."

"Master," Adolf rumbled, "Obviously she can't tell you what she doesn't know, truth gas or not. We must find another way of getting the Phantasmagyth away from him."

Schlimme threw his hands up in disgust. "Bah! It von't matter if ve find the Gyth if ve don't haf ze--" his eyes fell on the jagged wound across Adolf's cheek. "Adolf, come here."

The henchman obliged, and Krasimir took up his field guild along with a pencil. He turned to a blank page and began sketching a negative version of the patter etched into the werewolf's face. From just those few scratches, he could extrapolate the shapes of the links. He revealed the sketch to Ashwyn. "Is zis vhat the Chain looks like?"

"Yes," she replied.

"I could have told you that!" Adolf grumbled. "I'm the one who saw it shoved in my face tonight!"

"Shut up, dummkoff!" Krasimir snapped. To Ashwyn he said, "If I vere to forge my own chain using, say, ozher Phantasmian coins and precious metals, could I zhen attach ze Gyth and make a Phantasmagyth of my own?"

Ashwyn teetered for a moment before her legs gave way and she collapsed onto the base of the globe. She seemed almost ready to faint, but Krasimir wasn't done. He sent another potent blast of honest-vapor into the globe and commanded, "Answer me! Is it possible to make my own Phantasmagyth?"

Ashwyn raised her head drowsily. "You can try," she whispered, "but it will never be as powerful as the True Phantasmagyth."

Krasimir smiled. "If it vorks efen a little, all my effort vill haf been vorth it! Adolf!"

"Yes, Master?" The werewolf grinned as well. Both smiles were cruel.

"Beginning tomorrow, you vill go to ze school vhere ze boy has his studies. Learn his schedule, and vhen you know you vill not be seen, search his personal lodgings for ze Gyth. Do not rest until you haf found it and bring it to me. I vill haf more time to myself if I don't haf a menagerie to run, so I'm seenking of doing a bit of metal-vorking."

"I will not fail you, Master," Adolf answered.

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