The Fairy Gift (6 page)

Following the noises of giggling and splashing, I walked through the kitchen to the back door. Once my eyes adjusted to the light of outdoors, I found myself in a modest, but quite well-kept backyard, fenced on either side with a few trees and ivy growing around the border. Several tin washbasins had been set up on the lawn, and the girls were all hard at work, scrubbing the white sheets and gossiping amongst themselves. I saw Titiana, sitting on a stool and smoking a long thin cigar, overseeing the work. She glanced at me, and I headed over to her, pulling the robe tighter around myself as I did so.

"They are washing your clothing," Titiana informed me, without looking in my direction. "We discarded your shirt—it was ruined. We have several shirts that clients have left here over time; you may have one of those." I think she expected me to act exceedingly grateful for this act of generosity, and when I did nothing but blink at her, she
tsk
ed and turned away, taking another long drag on her cigar and ignoring me.

Directly behind her, sitting casually at a small wrought iron table with a small, black, leather-bound book propped up in front of her, was Hailey. She looked up, as if she had felt my gaze, and offered me a small smile. Her long silken sleeves swished silently through the air when she gestured for me to sit opposite her. I stared, and then blinked, wondering again about my strange attraction to her. I sat, and she smiled at me again, delicately placing the book face-down on the table to save her page.

"You look better this morning," she observed.

"Yes," I agreed. "I
feel
better."

"And what are your plans for the day?" she asked, and then laughed. "Once you get your clothes back, of course."

"I don't know," I said truthfully. "I suppose I should go to the palace … " I trailed off, and my eyes wandered over the progress the girls had made washing the sheets. I thought of something and turned to Hailey.

"You're wondering why I'm not helping," she said, her eyes twinkling.

"Well …  Yes."

"I
want
to," she insisted, with a note of sharpness in her voice, "but they won't let me." She slumped backward, gazing fondly at the other girls. "They say someone who services noblemen shouldn't have to get her hands wet. Because I make more money than them, I should be exempt from doing household chores." She laughed dryly. "It's daft. But there you have it. They always stop me when I attempt to help. So." She sat up straighter. "You want to go to the palace?"

"Yes," I replied. "I was supposed to be travelling there with a wizard called Dante, but I got separated from him, and I think the palace would be the best place to find him again."

"A wizard?" Hailey's eyes twinkled. "Can you do magic, then, Marcus?"

"Um. A little."

"Do tell." She leaned forward, a small intrigued smile on her face.

"Well, I …  I was blessed by a fairy." She was looking at me so earnestly that I couldn't help but continue. "I can … influence people." I lowered my head, and said in an even lower voice, "Men and women. To … find me attractive. And do what I want."

"Really?" gasped Hailey, and raised a hand to her face. "Are you using it on me right now?" She seemed much more interested than frightened.

"No, of course not!" I cried, and then saw Titiana shift on her seat out of the corner of my eye. I realized that she had probably been listening to the entire conversation.

Hailey seemed oblivious to the fact. "Well," she said. "I like you anyway. Quite a bit. I shall sleep with you for free, if you should like."

I blanched, and Hailey giggled. "Oh, you are one of those men who prefer the company of other men, are you not?" She giggled again at the look on my face. "Don't worry. It should not be that obvious to most people. You'll find most women of our profession are quite adept at recognising that sort of thing. Part of the job description, you might say. Don't let it bother you."

It did bother me, though; it bothered me a lot. Draeden had realized it, too, I remembered. I didn't like the idea of it being said out loud at all—saying it out loud meant admitting it was true. And if it was true then that meant that …

I buried my face in my hands, and Hailey let out her tinkling laugh again. "I said, don't let it bother you!" Laughter still in her voice, she reached out a slender hand to pat me on the shoulder. "It's perfectly normal. I should know."

I looked up at her, and she smiled at me, and then picked up her book again. "After the washing is done, you can go with one of the girls to the palace and see if they will let you in. Also"—she glanced up at me again—"if you change your mind, my offer still stands at any time."

I blushed again, but the thought of sleeping with her did not appeal to me at all. She was right—I did prefer the company of other men; I really had no interest in women. I sighed, wishing for the thousandth time that I was back in Rell and that I had been born normal.

Luncheon was had
(more gruel), and then Muse was allowed to escort me to the palace. She seemed to have warmed up to me since the previous night, as she was clearly happy to get out of doing the rest of the laundry. She was a small girl, almost childlike in size, but this was belied by her loud, adult voice and the clothing she wore. She had piled her dark hair messily on her head, as seemed the style for prostitutes, and lined her dark eyes with kohl, and as we walked slowly through the streets of the city, she rushed about, chatting boisterously with women and flirting with men.

It was much less intimidating in the daylight—while the streets and buildings were dirty and old, the people were friendly and chatted easily with each other. It was only when a carriage or wagon rolled through, carrying on it a lofty nobleman or several elegantly-dressed women, that the commoners lowered their heads and turned sullenly away.

"Rich bastards," commented Muse acidly. "Think they could spare a dime for some of us less unfortunate folk, but no. What do they care if we're starving?"

"Are many people starving?" I asked.

"Oh, yes," she said. "They say there are jobs in the capital, but they're only there for the rich and educated. Ever since the economy's gotten better, the rich have gotten richer, but the poor have gotten poorer. I'm lucky to have a job with Titiana. Otherwise, I'd be out on the streets, probably selling myself under much less sanitary conditions. She's good to us, you know."

Muse seemed pensive for a moment, and then jumped and ran ahead. "Look!" she said. "Here's the palace! Oh, do you mind if we stop at the royal bakery for a moment? I've got to do some business."

Business involved flirting with the young baker's apprentice. Muse was a master at what she did—I almost believed that she was truly in love with the young man, and that it was a cruel twist of fate that the only time she could see him was when he could come by the Parlour and pay for her company. I stood awkwardly by the window as they waxed eloquent at each other.

The palace was grand; I could see it through the wrought iron gates that stood twenty feet tall around the grounds. It was an old, impressive building, made of white stone and set all over with lavish carvings and gold inlay. Gold from across the sea, I remembered reading in one of Dante's books, although I couldn't remember what relationship this fact had had with magical history. Perhaps some myth about a curse attached to the gold?

Finally, Muse was done, and we proceeded to the front gates where two guards stood, dressed in smart royal blue uniforms and wearing rather ridiculous tall white hats with feathered plumes. They sniffed down at me, obviously taking in my short boots and loose burlap trousers with dislike. They seemed rather more inclined to talk with Muse, but I forced their attention to me.

"I'm here to see the Wizard Dante," I said. "Do you know if he made it to the palace alright?"

"Indeed he did," the taller of the guards informed me through his thick, groomed moustache. "And who are you?"

"I'm, er, an apprentice of his," I said, trying and failing not to be intimidated by their sharp, suspicious looks. "But we, ah … got separated. Perhaps he's mentioned me."

"He most certainly has not," boomed the other guard, stepping to look down at me over his equally impressive moustache. "But then, he hasn't had the time to mention anything much since he's returned to the palace." The two glanced at each other darkly.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked. When they neglected to answer me, I continued, "Look, can I just see him?"

"Absolutely not," said the first guard gruffly. "We don't let whores and hooligans into the palace without leave. Besides, I'm disinclined to believe you." He leaned over again, inspecting me suspiciously.

I thought about using my powers on him. I thought about making him so dizzy and in lust with me that he could barely walk, and would then let me into the palace—then I could find Dante and make him remember me—no, I mustn't do that. But really, how could Dante
not
remember me? Of course he did! There must have been some mistake, and I told the guard so, but he merely laughed at me.

"Come back with a letter from someone inside granting you access," he said. "Then we'll think about letting you in."

Chagrined, and with nothing to besides head back or make a huge show of using my powers (Muse was already looking at me suspiciously), I decided on the former, and together we headed back to the Parlour.

It was nearly evening, and it seemed that the women of the Parlour were already beginning to take clients. I avoided them all and went to my room to sulk, but when I opened my door, I found that the bedroom was not empty. A young man was standing next the bed, and he looked up at me rather guiltily when I opened the door.

"Ah. Er … wrong bedroom, sorry."  

He swept past me and out of the room before I could say anything to him. Annoyed, I shut the door and made my way to the bed. He had looked younger than me! Far too young to be seeking the company of prostitutes, I thought. And what had he been doing in my room?

I noticed that some clothing had been stacked neatly on the end of the bed, probably by one of the girls. Was I to have no privacy? I then realized that the sheets had all been washed and replaced, as well, and felt slightly guilty. I had to remember that it wasn't really
my
room, anyway; just a room I was using for a few nights.

I went through the clothing, which was all modern styles—the pants a little too tight for my liking, and the shirts a little too loose and billowy, but it would be nice to have more than one change of clothes to wear.

I was contemplating going downstairs for some dinner when there was a knock on the door. I went to open it and found Emie standing there with a bowl of gruel. I was immediately touched by his kindness, but less touched when he informed me, "Titiana wants you to know that if you're going to continue to take advantage of her hospitality, you're going to have to start earning your keep."

"Thanks," I said in a dead tone.

"Don't mention it," he replied easily. "I'm just the messenger, remember." He winked at me and went away.

I sat on the bed, eating my gruel thoughtfully as the sun went down. Suddenly, there was a fluttering by the window, and I turned to see Draeden leaning casually against the window frame and looking down at me with satisfaction.

"
There
you are," he said. "You are impossible to track down! How did you get here? Wait, don't tell me." He took a step forward and touched a long finger to my forehead. I felt a flurry of emotions and memories wash through my head, and I realized that he was reading my mind.

"Hey!" I said, jumping backward. "Don't do that!"

"It would have taken far too long to explain," he reasoned. "Fascinating story, though."

"Get away from me," I muttered, turning back to my gruel. "This is all your fault."

"I beg your pardon?" said Draeden, sounding highly offended. "
My
fault? If it weren't for my gift, you'd be on a slave ship right now on your way across the ocean."

"Well, you could have given me something a little more sensible," I sulked, realizing that my argument was falling flat.

"
I
couldn't have," he said. "The fairy that was almost selected wanted to give you the gift of
reasoning
. What good would that have done against that bastard, when your mouth was gagged? My gift is much more useful. Though I notice you haven't been using it much."

"Of course not!" I sputtered. "I can't just seduce whomever I want just so I can get something out of them! It's cruel!"

"They'd like it," said Draeden, with a little smirk on his face.

"Oh, shut up. You are incredibly immature. Can't you make yourself useful?"

He cocked his head. "Useful? How?"

"I don't know!" I exclaimed. "Go find Dante! See if he's got amnesia, or if he's at least trying to find me! I've got to write a letter to my parents and explain the situation."

"Alright," Draeden agreed. "You do that. I'll go and spy on Dante. Although I can think of a great deal of things I would rather spend my time doing." He sighed. "At least I am immortal." Then he vanished in a twinkling of midnight blue dust.

I sighed and looked around for some writing instruments, finding that there were none to be had. Sighing deeper still, I got up from the bed and made my way down the stairs. Draeden's presence always served to leave me a little drained, it seemed.

Emie seemed surprised to see me. "Problem with the gruel?" he asked.

"Um, no," I said. "It was delicious. I was wondering where I might find Titiana?"

"You want me to take you to her office?" asked Emie, raising his eyebrows. Hailey, who was sitting at the table and just beginning to eat dinner, giggled.

"Er. Yes. I have to ask for something.

"Well," said Emie. "Alright. It's this way." He exited through a side door that I hadn't noticed before, and I followed him into a dimly-lit hallway. He rapped curtly on the door for me, and then escaped back to the kitchen.

Titiana's voice echoed from within. "Yes?"