The Thirteenth Fairy Read online

  He takes one small step forward. He’s covered in sweat, dripping from his forehead to his nose.

  His home, burning. His mother’s screams. His brother’s pain.

  He walks into the fire, the flaming path before him burning a mixture of bright oranges, yellows, and reds. It engulfs him; he can feel it, his face, his hair, his body. He’s burning.

  No!

  He isn’t.

  It’s a test.

  A test of will.

  He can believe he’s burning, or he can—what did Filomena say?—put his mind above the mischief and he will succeed.

  With enormous effort, Jack pushes aside the past, the memories that have haunted him for years. He drowns out the screams and replaces them with silence. He focuses on walking forward, ignoring the burning of his hands, the fire that is all around him.

  He couldn’t save his family. But he can save his friends.

  He can do this.

  He keeps walking even though he can no longer feel his feet.

  And at last he is through.

  The flames are behind him.

  He looks at his hands. They are the same, unburnt. He is whole. He collapses when he reaches the other end of the arena.

  But his friends are there to catch him.

  Filomena is crying. Alistair looks like a ghost.

  “You did it,” she whispers.

  “Badass,” says Alistair. “I learned that word in the mortal world.” He asks Filomena, “That’s right, isn’t it?”

  She smiles. “Totally.”

  The booming voice returns. “Congratulations. You have made it to the third and final challenge. Filomena Jefferson-Cho of North Pasadena, you must pass this test or fail your quest. Continue to the next arena.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  THE RIDDLE

  It’s her turn. After Jack has bested the dragons in the Test of Wills, which challenged his bravery and determination, and Alistair has shown that strength can come from ingenuity and observation, it’s now her turn to face the dragons. Jack and Alistair are walking down the path to the next arena, Jack limping a little, when they notice she’s not with them.

  Alistair turns around. Filomena hasn’t moved an inch.

  She knows what this looks like, how much of a coward she is, but she can’t seem to make her legs move forward.

  “Fil?” Alistair asks gently. “It’s okay.”

  She shakes her head and chokes back a sob. “I don’t know if I can do this. I’ll never forgive myself if I let you guys down.”

  Alistair smiles. “Well, that’s the thing. If you fail, you won’t have to forgive yourself. We’ll all be dragon dinner.”

  Even Jack chuckles at that. He edges his way over. The challenge took a lot out of him, and he’s still not quite himself. “What are you scared of?” he asks.

  Filomena shrugs. “Everything. Everything is depending on me right now, and I’ve never been good under pressure. I know you won’t understand, but I’m not the kind of person who ‘tests well.’ What if I don’t make it? What if I fail?” she whispers. This isn’t like a C-minus in algebra. If she doesn’t pass the challenge, she will doom them to death. Her earlier bravado—storming out of the house, telling her parents the truth, shaking Jack and Alistair up and forcing them to travel to the Deep—has all left her.

  She’s absolutely terrified. Frozen.

  Jack seems to have recovered his cool, and he looks at her sternly. “Then at least you’ve tried. The quickest way to fail is to succumb to your doubt and fear. If you never try, you’ll never know if you could have succeeded, which makes it certain that you’ll fail.”

  “You’ve got to try,” says Alistair. “You can do it. I believe in you.”

  “We believe in you,” agrees Jack. It might be the nicest thing anyone besides her parents has ever said to her.

  Her parents!

  Filomena again remembers what they said to her. Be brave. You are more than you seem, and you know more than you know.

  “Now, come along,” Alistair says soothingly. “The last challenge awaits. You’re smart. You’re a reader. Maybe you even know what’s about to happen. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

  Jack nods.

  “Come on,” says Jack, looping an arm through hers while Alistair takes the other side. Together, the three of them march toward their fate.

  The next arena is neither covered with spikes nor covered in flame. The space is dark and empty, and once more, the two who are not part of the challenge are soon sent to observe from a crevice high above the cavern floor.

  Filomena stands alone in the center of the arena.

  “Filomena Jefferson-Cho, it is time for the third challenge. The Riddle. True wit is unknown to the earthly. Three cries for your inevitable demise,” booms the invisible voice.

  She grits her teeth and glares at the void. They dragons are rooting for her to fail. They want her to stumble. They will celebrate her downfall. And now, in this moment, all she wants is to prove them wrong.

  “Listen closely,” the voice commands. “I am small, but I stand tall. I can rise, but I can fall. I am light, I am flight, in the day or in the night. With the wind I can dance, on the ground I stand no chance. As one I am none but with more I may soar. Wet I can float, dry I can fly. I may not cry, but I may lie. If you are you, what am I?”

  Filomena’s brow wrinkles in response as she thinks.

  Why does the riddle sound familiar? Almost as if she’s heard it before.

  You’re a reader, Alistair had said. Maybe you even know what’s about to happen.

  She goes over the riddle line by line. I am small, but I stand tall. Something tiny?

  I can rise, but I can fall. A person?

  I am light, I am flight, in the day or in the night. The sun?

  I may not cry, but I can lie.

  Nothing makes sense—but it’s a riddle. A word game. Wordplay. Words can have lots of meanings. “I am light” does not have to mean light as in sunlight or daylight; it can mean something that’s not heavy. “I may not cry” means it’s not a person or an animal but an object. “I can lie” means that whatever it is can be set down.

  It’s coming to her.

  It’s almost there.

  She can picture it.

  But why is it so familiar?

  She goes over the riddle again.

  With the wind I can dance, on the ground I stand no chance. As one I am none but with more I may soar. Wet I can float, dry I can fly.

  What soars and flies?

  A bird?

  She almost has it.

  She glances up to where Jack and Alistair are watching. Alistair is gnawing on his fingernails, while Jack has the same cool, collected demeanor he always has. The quiet in the arena is so loud that she can hear her heart beating. It feels like time is moving in slow motion, like the whole world is waiting on her. Waiting on her to guess. Waiting on her to answer. Waiting on her to save their kingdom.

  Filomena closes her eyes, picturing the words in her mind.

  Wait a minute, she thinks. The reason this sounds so familiar … is because I wrote it.

  She can see the inky handwriting on the page. Words and phrases crossed out. But when did she do this?

  Filomena squares her shoulders and speaks in a voice that echoes and carries all over the arena. “I am small, but I stand tall. I can rise, but I can fall. I am light, I am flight, in the day or in the night. With the wind I can dance, on the ground I stand no chance. As one I am none but with more I may soar. Wet I can float, dry I can fly. I may not cry, but I may lie. If you are you, what am I?” she asks. And she answers, “A feather.”

  There is a loud hiss of annoyance before the booming voice acknowledges her victory. “A feather it is. You have bested us in the Game of Threes. Your petition will be heard by the council. Proceed to the royal court.”

  Alistair and Jack suddenly appear in the center of the arena and run over to her, impressed and buoyant. But as mu
ch as she wishes she could genuinely take part in rejoicing with them, she can’t.

  Because Filomena is not only stunned but baffled. She knows she wrote that riddle, but she cannot remember when—or why. Winning a challenge of wit by answering a riddle she herself wrote may technically constitute cheating (if anyone is being technical), but it’s not really cheating unless you knowingly do something wrong.

  It’s not her fault they asked her the very same riddle she came up with herself. Only … when and why, exactly, did she write it?

  But there’s no more time to puzzle over that question. They are being ushered to plead their case in front of the Royal Dragons of the Deep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  FIRE AND BLOOD

  They follow their dragon guide to yet another cavern, but this one isn’t dark like the earlier ones. This one is practically blazing with light, and when they get closer, Filomena realizes it’s because there is so much gold piled inside the cave. It’s hard to look at the three dragons who are sitting on the hoard.

  These dragons who assess them are so large that they make the dragon who led them here look like a pony. They’re easily as tall as skyscrapers, and old … so old.

  “Who dares wake us from our sleep?” grumbles the one on the right.

  “Supplicants! We haven’t seen a supplicant who’s survived our game in centuries,” rasps the dragon on the left.

  The one in the middle is the largest. That dragon turns a large, wizened serpent face toward them. “I am Darius, keeper of the Deep. To my left is Maximus, and to my right is Saleyeth.”

  Filomena curtsies. “Filomena Jefferson-Cho of North Pasadena.”

  “Jack Stalker the Giant Slayer. Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Jack says.

  “Alistair Bartholomew Barnaby. I like your dragon bed,” Alistair offers innocently. “What’s it made of?”

  “Gold, and the bones of our enemies,” Darius replies grimly.

  “Ew,” Alistair says without thinking.

  Darius tilts his head in challenge, silently daring Alistair to speak ill of the lair again, and this time it’s Filomena who kicks his shin.

  “Ow!” Alistair yelps.

  “Please forgive our friend for his lack of manners,” says Jack.

  Darius seems willing to let it go. “For thousands upon thousands of nights, we have slept in the Deep, untroubled by the Above. What do you seek from the Deep? Your valor has won you an audience, nothing more. But speak freely and we may consider your request.”

  Once again Filomena bows low. “Your Eminences, the lands above you are in danger of falling to the ogre queen, who seeks to destroy us all. Things are dire, and every day one more kingdom falls to her power. We must fight, but we cannot do so without the armor and weapons forged in the Deep.”

  “She speaks the truth, Your Greatnesses,” says Jack. “We need your help if we are to save Never After from this danger.”

  “The affairs of the Above are of no concern to us,” says Saleyeth, a beautiful golden dragon. “No one has ever cared for dragons’ welfare. Why should we lift a claw in anyone’s favor?”

  “The ogre queen will not be satisfied until she has all of Never After under her command,” Jack warns. “Once she’s conquered all the kingdoms of the Above, she will look for more lands to conquer. She will come down here, seeking gold and riches.”

  “Let her come,” says Saleyeth angrily. “We will show her what happens to thieves.”

  “Please, Your Eminences!” cries Filomena. “Once upon a time you came to Westphalia to celebrate the birth of its princess! You promised to honor the alliance between the Above and the Deep. We need your help desperately.”

  Darius swishes his tail, and the gold beneath him clinks. “We did send emissaries. It seemed a fortunate boon. But that was thousands of years ago.”

  “Merely a blink of a dragon’s eye,” says Filomena.

  Darius smiles, showing his sharp fangs.

  “Please,” says Alistair simply. “Please help us.”

  The three dragons exchange suspicious looks, and Maximus breathes fire unexpectedly, letting out a low growl. “And how exactly do three small children plan to defeat the ogre queen and her army? Do you have an army of your own behind you?”

  “Well, no…,” says Alistair.

  “Not exactly…,” Filomena replies. “I mean, not just yet, anyway. But we will. Once we can get the remaining fairies together…”

  The dragons laugh, deeply and savagely, causing the entire room to shake.

  “It’s not funny!” Filomena cries. In the heat of the moment, she removes her beanie, and the radiant mark of the thirteenth fairy glows in the dimly lit room, catching the dragons’ attention.

  Darius rises to his feet and stomps slowly to Filomena, bending down to inspect the mark on her forehead.

  “Is it real?” Salayeth inquires.

  Darius lets out a monstrous huff, like he’s thinking, and the sudden blow of air sends Filomena’s hair flying back as she squints. “It appears so,” Darius finally responds.

  “It is real,” Jack confirms. “It is the mark of Carabosse.”

  “Carabosse,” says Maximus approvingly. “Now, she was a fairy.”

  “Carabosse was a friend to the Deep,” says Darius with a frown. “We are pledged to help any who carry her mark.”

  “But Carabosse was magnificent, and this one is so … small,” Maximus responds indignantly.

  “A speck,” agrees Saleyeth, gazing at her claws. “Not even worth a chomp.”

  “I’m glad I’m … unappetizing,” says Filomena.

  Darius seems to have made up his mind and speaks for the three. “Small as she is, she is marked by our friend. And we dragons are loyal above all. We will aid you in your battle against the ogres. With one condition: The treaty between the Deep and the Above is that we stay to our spaces. But I find we are weary of the darkness. We wish to fly in the sun once more. If we help you defeat the ogre queen, we must be allowed back in Westphalia. We will not be hunted, nor shall we hunt in return.”

  “Your Eminence, your generosity is beyond imagination,” says Filomena. “But please let us talk about it before we accept.”

  The dragons huff. Then Darius flicks his claw and Filomena, Jack, and Alistair find themselves alone in a cave outside the royal cavern.

  “Can we give them what they want?” asks Filomena.

  “Technically, no, since we’re not the royal family of Westphalia.”

  “But the royal family is missing.”

  “So maybe we can pledge on their behalf?” asks Alistair. “What could it hurt?”

  “They’ll kill us if they think they’ve been deceived,” says Jack.

  “But we don’t have a choice.”

  “How do we know they won’t turn around and slaughter everyone in Westphalia once the ogres are defeated?” he asks.

  “We’ll just have to trust them,” says Filomena.

  “Yikes,” says Alistair.

  “They’ll keep their word. I know they will,” she says.

  Jack sighs. “All right.”

  As if the dragons know the trio is done, the supplicants are popped back in front of the royal council.

  “On behalf of the royal family of Westphalia, we accept the terms of your agreement,” says Filomena.

  Darius, in lieu of answering with words, begins to wriggle and groan, almost as if in pain. Slowly and painstakingly, he sheds the scales on his left claw, like a glove that’s become too large for him. They rest at his feet, sharp and shiny. “You have my word. To seal that word as true, as a promise to be honored until the end of time, we will give you our scales as armor for your army.”

  Jack reaches down to touch the dragonhide. It’s unexpectedly light, like woven threads of gold and silver.

  “These scales have endured for millennia. May they protect you and yours for the rest of your time.”

  The other two dragons rise, repeating the act, with Maximus offerin
g his scales to Alistair and Salayeth offering hers to Filomena.

  “As for weaponry…” Darius rummages through the pile of treasure underneath him and removes a wrapped bundle, laying it in front of them. He uncloaks it, revealing a set of fangs in different sizes and shapes, forged into swords and daggers.

  “Whoa!” Alistair exclaims, leaning forward to stare at the gift. Then he looks up at Darius, asking, “Are those what I think they are?”

  The dragon nods. “Dragon’s Teeth are known for both their deadly and mystical properties. They are as protective as they are perilous. For centuries, they have been used to penetrate even the thickest and most spellbound armor, aiding in some of the most crucial battles of all time.”

  “Is it true that even just the sight of a Dragon’s Tooth can paralyze an opponent with fear?” Filomena asks.

  Darius pauses, considering the question. “That answer depends on how powerful the particular opponent is, as well as what kind of magic or sorcery the enemy wields against you.”

  Alistair and Jack pause at that, eyeing Filomena, as though they’re thinking the same thing she is: What will the ogre queen have in her arsenal?

  Darius wraps the bundle back up and hands it to Jack. “May these weapons protect and defend your cause. You carry the blessings of the Deep in your battle.”

  “Defeat the ogres,” orders Salayeth. “I long to see the sun once more.”

  “Blessings upon you three,” adds Maximus. “May you bring peace and glory back to Westphalia.”

  Filomena, Jack, and Alistair bow low to the dragons and thank them for their gifts.

  “One last thing,” says Darius, before bidding the trio farewell and letting them back through the portal to Vineland. “You were wise to seek the power of the Deep. But that is not enough. All of Westphalia must stand against the ogre queen if the kingdom is to survive. And if soldiers are what you are looking for, look no further than the Wolves of the Wood.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  TINKER, TAILOR, COBBLER, FASHION DESIGNER

  “What do we do now?” asks Alistair, his dragon scales draped over his shoulder as the three friends trudge through the woods back to the cottage. “Look for the wolves?”