Our Perplexing Tale Resumes

The Faery King, his cousin, and his bodyguard discussed Ciaran’s plan with much enthusiasm (or perhaps heat would be a better word).

“That is a terrible idea!” Donal yelled.

“But --” Ciaran was taken aback.

“It wouldn’t even work! You had how long to come up with a plan of attack?” Jinge agreed.

“Oh, come on!” Ciaran appealed to me, his last ally. “It wasn’t that bad, was it, Ashlyn?”

I couldn’t help him, purple eyes or not. “I’m sorry, maybe it was the terms you used, but I didn’t understand it at all.”

“See?” Jinge said. “I keep telling you, you’ve got to make it simple: distract, and attack. We’ll give him everything we’ve got while he’s busy.”

“What if everything we’ve got isn’t enough?”

“Then we’ll die, and he’ll take over.” Donal answered.

“What?” I yelped.

“We won’t die so easily. Besides, anything is better than going to see that woman.” Jinge added.

“Woman?” I asked, still lost. Ciaran had used names and places, but I’d missed that part.

“Don’t ask.” Jinge advised. “Just, don’t.”

“She might be a horrible woman, but she’s our only ally!” Ciaran argued.

They continued to hash out strategies. After a few more minutes I was able to piece together the plan no one liked: we were to go see a horrible aunt figure, get her help (which I think consisted of influence and connections), hide in the city near the castle, and secretly distribute the truth about Brand and the king’s death to the public. It was going to take a few weeks (perhaps longer), but it would eventually get the people on our side, and if we hid well enough, it wouldn’t come to fighting Brand face to face without an army. After understanding it, I was against it as well. A few weeks...!

I took the grocery bags over to the grazing horses, and began transferring the supplies to the saddlebags. I had nothing to offer in the planning department; strategy has always been hard for me. In games like chess I could only fudge my way through move by move and hope to win through luck, because there was no way I could predict what the other side would do two turns later. If I stared at the board very hard, I could plan a knight’s path to check the king, but that never did any good, and the poor horsey never made it that far.

“Did you buy food for me?” Donal asked sweetly, suddenly appearing beside me.

I jumped. “Yes, lots. And treats. Do you like oatmeal cookies?” I held up the plastic package.

“I love them!” he said as if he hadn't almost been killed by his friend a half hour ago. He took the cookie sandwich and smiled at me, scrunching his eyes into little half-circles. “Thank you, my lady.”

I laughed, and felt my anxiety ease a little, so I gave him a half-bow. “You're welcome, your majesty.”

“So,” Donal glanced back at the others, who were still arguing. “How was your walk with Ciaran?”

“Hmm?”

“Are things better? Did he talk to you properly?”

“Uh--” I looked confused, so he explained further.

“Did he explain everything? I told him he'd better. You looked unhappy –- both of you did.” the boy grinned suddenly and nudged me with his elbow. “So it went well? Did he kiss you?”

I felt my face redden. “Aren't you still at the age where you think kissing is gross?”

That wiped the grin off of his face (not my intention, I assure you). It was an insult to his approaching manhood. His blue eyes grew large and filled with hurt. “I’m nearly sixteen! You wound me to the heart, madam.”

“No, no, I'm sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

Donal laughed. “I'm joking. I know I'm short.” He turned to go back to the others, but stopped and looked over his shoulder with a sincere, dazzling expression. “I just want you to know, for the future, after this is all over... I'd like having you nearby.”

I blinked. He gave me a thumbs up, jingling his key bracelet. I realized that Donal had just given me his permission as head of the family to go ahead and marry his cousin. My eyes jumped to Ciaran, my faery, who was drawing maps in the dirt, a few locks of hair escaping from his ponytail. Butterflies took flight in my stomach as he felt my gaze and turned to smile at me. I blushed and glanced away.

“Donal, wait!” I found myself saying. “Don’t eat that cookie until you’ve had a proper dinner! It’ll make you sick!”

“Aw, you’re no fun!” The Faery King complained, about to take the first bite. I handed out trail mix and sandwiches, and we ate. This was done in blissful silence, but then the planning resumed.

“If we take him by surprise, and at night, we can do it!” Jinge insisted.

“Fine. Then I’ll be the distraction.” Ciaran said. “You two can come and save me.”

“He’ll kill you!” Donal said.

“Ouch. But no, not if you’re fast enough. Besides, he’s known me the longest, I think he’ll want to gloat a bit first.”

“No!” I interrupted, grabbing his sleeve. “You are not allowed to come anywhere close to dying.”

“One of us will have to.” Ciaran said apologetically.

“Then I will!” I said.

“You will not!” he argued, frowning at me. “I can at least defend myself, but he’ll do whatever he likes to you.”

“I don’t know,” Jinge spoke up. “She is rather famous. And you have to remember, Brand does care about his image. He’ll only kill as long as he can make it look acceptable to the kingdom. He’d kill me instantly (if he could), and if you or Donal attacked him it’d be justified, but a weak human girl?”

“Hey!” I objected. I worked out regularly, after all.

“He’d be more likely to just keep her prisoner.” Jinge continued. “He might also wipe her memories and send her back, since that’s what he wanted to do in the first place. But unless she’s an actual threat, I don’t think he’ll harm her.”

“But he could. We’re not using her as bait.” Ciaran all but glared at him.

“It’s better than one of you getting hurt.” I told him.

“No, it’s not!” Ciaran yelled. “Do you think any of us could live with ourselves if you died?”

“What about the opposite?” I yelled back. “This whole mess started because of me! How do you think I’ll feel if I’m completely useless?!”

Ciaran shook my shoulders for emphasis. “You’d be alive, and that’s what’s important!”

“Stop it. Both of you.” Donal said quietly. “Jinge is right, and Ashlyn has the best chance of survival if she is captured. We’ll be close by the whole time, and none of us will die.” Donal stood up straight, facing Ciaran. “But if we do, we’ll die protecting each other.”

Ciaran’s hands dropped from my shoulders, and he shook his head, walking away to the edge of the clearing.

Donal blew the air out of his cheeks. “You’d better stay safe, Ashlyn, because if not, he’s going to kill me.”

“And then I’d have to kill him,” Jinge added. “So don’t die, okay?”

I laughed without mirth, glancing at Ciaran’s back. “I’ll do my best.

Do you really think it will work?”

“Yeah, if we do it right.” Jinge said. “Donal can lock and unlock any entrance to the castle, so once we get inside, we can get him cornered, and attack him all at once.”

“So how do I distract him?”

“It’s likely he’ll want to question you about our plans, so that’s a start. You can argue, get him talking, monologuing, etc..”

“What if he just locks me up instead of talking to me? Or if he sends me back right away? Then you’ll have no distraction; he’ll just be waiting for you.”

“That’s a good point.” Donal agreed. “We’ll have you be found, and then attack before he locks you up. That will work, right?” he asked Jinge.

“Er... we’ll work out the details before we reach the gate tonight,” Jinge said. “But we have a good chance, yes.”

I nodded, and we started packing up the camp and getting the horses ready. My hands shook, not because I was afraid of what might happen to me, but because Ciaran had been so angry. Arguing with a friend had never been a big deal, if you remember how John and I got along, but I'd never made any of my friends that angry. Then again, this was about life or death, not about how disgusting banana peppers are.