A Place Beyond The Map (28 page)

Phinnegan could only nod.

“Good. We have promised not to harm humans if at all possible, but your presence here strains my oath.” There was a pause and then her voice began again, but not as near to him.

“And you, Daughter. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Mother, he was lost –“

“Lost? More likely searching for this very passage to which you have brought him. At least you had the good sense to blind him. Yet what you have done is beyond some small error. It is criminal. High Treason against
my
throne. I’m afraid there is only one punishment that suits such a crime. Banishment.”

The collective gasp from dozens of tiny lungs from all directions was the first clue for Phinnegan that a great number of pixies had gathered around him. Now, they muttered in hushed but excited voices.

“Banishment?” Mariella’s voice said in a hoarse whisper. “Banishment? But I must explain myself, Mother. I led him here because-“

“We do not lead anyone, anywhere, save to keep them
away
from our vale. You have done the exact opposite!” the Mother cried. “It is terrible, this crime you have committed. Never in a thousand years or more has someone dared to do such a thing.”

“Mother, please. He was in the Winding Wood.”

“The Winding Wood,” several voices exclaimed while others squeaked and piled their exclamations atop one another.

“The forest!”

“A human in the Winding Wood? Impossible.”

“Only criminals are found there!”

“Then he must be a criminal! Thief!”

“Quiet, the lot of you,” the Mother snapped sharply. Once again an angry flutter belied her presence just behind his ear.

“It is true what they say. The Winding Wood is unknown and unknowable to all save a few creatures. It is a place where Faë and human alike would wander until the end of time. It is a prison. There are only a few ways by which a person comes to be in the Winding Wood. Some are worse than others, and none are good. How did you come to the forest?”

“I…don’t know,” Phinnegan managed to speak from a throat that was dry and hoarse. “I was simply…there.” None of the pixies around him uttered a sound, but the flutter of wings could be heard still, just behind his ears.

“Suddenly, was it? Did you touch a Will o’ the Wisp?” the Mother’s voice came in a stern whisper. He heard a hushed murmur flow like a waver through the pixies in the cavern.

“A what?” he asked.

“A Will o’ the Wisp.

“No…no. I don’t think so.” A sigh of relief emanated from the crowd of pixies. Even the Mother seemed to have calmed when she spoke.

“Ah, that is good then. There is no more foul or sinister a deed than that which summons one to the Winding Wood by way of a Will o’ the Wisp. Still, other ways can tell of –“

“Yes, you did,” Phinnegan heard Mariella mumble softly from some short distance away. The pixies drew in a collective breath.

“What did you say?” the Mother asked, in a voice that was quiet but icy flat, a hint of fear barely detectable.

“He did touch a Will o’ the Wisp,” Mariella said more loudly, causing a commotion among the pixies.

“Quiet,” the Mother snapped to the crowd before addressing Mariella.

“Are you sure, daughter? This is vitally important. How could you know such a thing?”

“I saw it,” Mariella said after a lengthy silence. “When I was leading him, I…I probed his memories.” Another gasp from the pixies within the cavern.

“Daughter,” the Mother’s voice was strained. “You go too far! You not only bring a human here, but you violate his mind as well? How could you-“

“He was trying to steal something that the Will o’ the Wisp was guarding,” Mariella interjected. He was caught. That is how he came to the Winding Wood.”

Howard
.

The cavern was quiet for a moment, but soon the walls echoed the tiny voices shouting accusations.

“Thief!”

“Liar!”

“What was he trying to steal?” The Mother’s question cut them all off short. When Mariella did not answer, the Mother repeated her question.

“Mariella, what was he trying to steal?” There was still a pause before Mariella spoke.

“The Great Stone.”

The cavern erupted in chaos. Small voices shouted and yelled around him, some in surprise, and many in anger.

“Silence! Silence, I say!” The tumult of voices lessened, but Phinnegan could sense the many pairs of small eyes that bore into him.

“The Great Stone,” the Mother whispered, which began a fresh cascade of murmurs through the crowd of pixies, though it was not long lived.

“You seek such power?” the Mother asked sternly, though her voice quavered. “Why? Do you plan to dominate our world?”

The question was incredulous.
Dominate their world
?

“Power? Dominate?” Phinnegan sputtered in alarm. “There must be some mistake, I only wanted to go home…”

“Home?” the Mother asked.

“Yes, with the Great Stone…I was…”

“You have committed a serious crime, boy. It is no wonder you were sent to the Winding Wood. Mariella should have left you there, where you belonged!” The Mother’s voice had risen in volume until she shouted. When she resumed, her voice had regained its earlier composure.

“The jurisdiction for this crime is beyond our means. Our duty is clear to me. As one of the esteemed races of this land, we must treat this attempted theft with the utmost seriousness. We must send for the guards of Féradoon.”

At the mention of Phinnegan’s one-time prison, a deathly stillness passed over those present in the cavern.

To Féradoon. To trial. To prison.

“But Mother,” Mariella began, but she was cut off swiftly.

“There are no buts my child. We must follow the law in this. They will know that it was one of us who led him from the Winding Wood, for no other race knows its secrets.”

“But, he has-“

“Mariella. Be still, now,” the Mother said. “Zephyr!” The flutter of wings could be heard as another pixie joined the Mother just behind Phinnegan.

“Yes, Mother,” came a second voice, small and soft.

“Fly to Féradoon at once. Inform them of everything you have just heard. Request that they send one of their gholems to take this…their prisoner.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Fly fast.”

“Yes, Mother.” A rapid flutter of wings, and Phinnegan’s hopes were slipping away.

“Mother,” Mariella began once more, but the icy voice interjected again.

“Mariella! You have done enough for one day! Now, go to –“

“Mother, you do
not
understand what you have just done!” Mariella said, her voice high pitched with alarm. Phinnegan felt a slight movement in his shirt pocket and then he heard Mariella’s voice from just in front of him.

“Look,” she said.  “He has a Warber.” The gasp that Phinnegan now heard was one not one of horror, but of genuine surprise and awe.

“A Warber,” the Mother whispered. “How is this…possible?”

“I don’t know,” Mariella said. “This is why I brought him.”

“I see,” the Mother said.

And then suddenly, Phinnegan could see.

The light in the cave was dim and he was thankful for it, for even that dim light hurt his eyes. He blinked several times allowing his eyes to adjust to sight once again. As he blinked, he tried to take in his surroundings. The light in the cavern came from scatterings of mushrooms, some on rocks, some in holes, and others climbing the very walls. Each mushroom glowed with the brightness of a small candle, and together their luminescence filled the cavern with an eerie light.

As he had suspected, the cavern was indeed filled with pixies. More than he could have even imagined. There were hundreds of tiny people spread out in all directions, some with spiked hair, others with long, and nearly all were scantily clad, with only an arm or leg covered with a random piece of lace or ribbon. Only one was completely clothed. Covered in white lace from neck to ankles, her silvery hair was in long curls down to her waist, with two delicately pointed ears sneaked out beneath the waves. She was no smaller or bigger than Mariella, but she was clearly much older. She could only be the Mother.

“Zephyr?” she questioned, looking directly at Phinnegan, through she did not direct the question to him.

“Gone, Mother. None of us here could ever hope to catch him. He is the fastest, after all.” The Mother nodded.

“Then there is not much time,” she said, gesturing to Mariella. “He may not enter the vale. You must take him through the mountain pass to the other side.”

Phinnegan’s brow furrowed.

“Wait, I don’t understand –“

“Leave this place,” the Mother cut him off.

“But –“

“Go!”

Moments later, Phinnegan was jogging, trying to keep up with Mariella.

“What happened? Why did she let me go? What is a Warber?”

“You ask many questions, Phinnegan Qwyk,” the pixie responded absently. The two moved swiftly through the passage for several more minutes, but then Phinnegan began to tire and slowed to a walk. Having no other choice, the pixie slowed to match his pace.

“A Warber is a token,” Mariella said at length. Phinnegan took two large steps to bring himself nearly beside her.

“What sort of token?”

“An ancient one. I had never seen one, until spying yours. We are all taught about them, of course, but I never thought…” she stopped, glancing at Phinnegan. “You must be a rare person, Phinnegan Qwyk.”

“What does it mean, this token?”

“Different Warbers mean different things. I don’t recognize the Mark on yours.”

How could he have come to possess this Warber? He did not remember it being given to him. Curious, Phinnegan reached into his pocket and removed the Warber, holding it between his thumb and forefinger.

As he surveyed the symbol imprinted thereon, a most curious thing happened. The Warber disintegrated. He rubbed the dust between his fingers, which gave off a slight warmth and had a faint metallic odor. When he pulled his fingers apart, he noticed a darker smudge on his index finger. He rubbed it on his pants, but when he looked at it again, the smudge was still there only now it was defined.

Now his fingertip bore the Mark.

What just happened?

He was so consumed with his thoughts that it was not for some time that he noticed they were no longer within the mountain pass, but had passed out onto a wider, gravely road between two grassy foothills. Two craggy tor perched high atop the hill to his right.

“Where are we?” he asked absently, forgetting about the Mark on his finger. He squinted as he checked the sun’s position in the sky.
Mid-morning? How long was I with the pixies?