Revenge (7) (The Underground Kingdom) Read online

  "And don't waste my time either!" Thorn stormed. "If you won’t help us, just say so!"

  "I didn't say that," the priestess told her. "I didn't say that at all." She regarded Thorn quizzically. "My, but you're a feisty one, aren't you? You really care about your sister, don't you? That's all very well, but you haven’t said the magic word yet."

  "The magic word?" Thorn repeated, puzzled.

  "The magic word," the priestess affirmed.

  "I don't understand," Thorn appealed. "What magic word?"

  "The one you have to use if you want my help," the priestess announced calmly. Thorn gave me an agonising glance of incomprehension and I shrugged. I had no idea what this weird fairy was talking about, either. She waited, immobile, while Thorn dithered and shuffled from foot to foot, trying to decipher what she’d been told. Finally, with a pleading expression, Thorn held out let her hands and said in a low, breaking voice, "Please?"

  The priestess smiled and clapped her hands. "Yes!" she exclaimed. "That was the magic word. Well done! Come inside."

  Well, that was a bit childish, I thought, as I went inside with the others. Magic word? What was she playing at? But, on the other hand, I could see a sort of bizarre logic behind it. How many people must have come here demanding to be helped or throwing money around, believing cash to be the ultimate temptation? At least, saying ‘please’ showed some semblance of humility. I could see why she'd be sick of the arrogance and bullying tactics of certain people.

  The interior of the house yielded another surprise. Judging by the priestess’s outward appearance, I'd been half-expecting a hovel, strewn with dirt and cobwebs. However, the place looked immaculate, with no sign of grime, and everything seemed set out in a methodical manner. This meticulousness made me even more suspicious of deliberate trickery. Disciplined surroundings usually indicated a disciplined mind, and this directly diverged from the way the priestess dressed and acted. I began to be certain that nothing about this fairy could be taken at face value. In fact, I also suspected that her ugliness had been intentionally contrived to put people off. I wondered why.

  Chapter 5

  We were told to be seated and the priestess stared at us all intently. "My name is Quina," she said, finally. "And you are?" We introduced ourselves and each of us became the recipient of a solemn eye interrogation.

  "Now tell me," our host insisted after we’d finished announcing our names. "What are you really doing here?"

  "As I've said, "Thorn began, "it's my sister ……."

  "And my mother!" Trix chimed in.

  Quina raised an incredulous eyebrow at this. "Your mother?" she questioned. "But you can't possibly be related."

  "I was an orphan and Traculimna adopted me," Trix explained.

  "Oh, I guess that explains it," Quina remarked. "That was remarkably generous of her."

  "She's the most giving person in the world," Trix confidently exclaimed. "She’d do anything for anybody."

  "Well, she seems to engender a marked degree of loyalty," Quina commented, stroking the scaly skin on her cheek. "Go on. What's wrong with her?"

  "Nobody knows," Thorn answered, in frustration. "The doctors are baffled. She just keeps getting weaker and weaker. If we don't stop it soon ……." Her voice cracked at this stage, and I put a comforting arm around her.

  "I see," Quina mused. "And what makes you think that I can help?"

  "Your reputation," I told her bluntly. "We heard a rumor that you can cure almost anything."

  "Is that so?" she remarked, staring at me disconcertingly. "And what else did you hear?"

  "Nothing else," I said, staring back at this extraordinary fairy. There were definitely wheels within wheels here. I perceived an extreme complexity at work. She was testing us, I was certain. But why? And to what end?

  "I can sense that you're not quite what you seem," she observed shrewdly, still peering fixedly at me.

  "And neither are you," I boldly stated, deciding to throw my cards on the table. "What's the meaning of all this rigmarole?"

  "What do you mean?" she questioned, her eyes twinkling at our wordplay and a mocking smile appearing on her wrinkled face.

  "All of this!" I pointed out, sweeping my free hand around the room and at her. "It's a contrived scene, the whole lot of it. I know a stage act when I see one, and I'm looking at one right now." I aimed a finger directly at her. "I don't believe you're being recalcitrant just for the sake of it, and I certainly don't believe this is your real appearance. It's all a performance. A put-up job, for reasons I don't quite understand. Are you trying to weed out potential petitioners who aren't worthy? Are you trying to scare people away? Frankly, madam, your behaviour is somewhat eccentric, to say the least. There must be some logical reason behind it because you strike me as being extremely intelligent, as well as a master manipulator of other’s emotions and so, if you don't mind, I'd like your motives to be upfront and transparent. I hope you haven't taken offence at anything I've said, but we’re pressed for time and that urgency prevents us from playing your games."

  Okay, maybe that might have been a little too forthright, but Quina’s jibes and tricks were starting to annoy me. I felt Thorn stiffen in shock at my outburst and I hoped I hadn't scuttled the hope for Quina’s help. It had been a decided risk being so outspoken, but I was tired of a set-up where we’d been figuratively dancing around each other, looking for openings. To hell with it! Tracey was running out of time and I wanted some answers.

  "My, my," Quina chuckled, "aren't you the impatient type. But I recognise your reasoning about the urgency. One question, however. Who are you, exactly? I like to know the identities of my customers. You certainly look like a One, but you don't think like one." She smiled impishly. "Pardon the word tease."

  "I'll tell you what," I told her. "I'll answer your question, if you answer mine. Deal?"

  Quina grinned openly at that. "Deal!" she affirmed. "You first."

  "Very well," I agreed. "You're quite correct. I'm not a One. Mentally, that is. I'm really a human, presently residing in a fairy clone. Now, your turn."

  "A human?" Quina questioned, astonished. "Amazing! I'd like to talk to you later about that. But to reciprocate: yes, most of this is an act. I do it to gauge reactions. In my younger days I ran myself ragged trying to help everyone and it just became too much. No matter how often I helped, they always wanted more. It became so bad that they were dragging me out of my bed in the middle of the night and demanding, actually demanding, that I aid them. No ‘Do you mind?’ or ‘Pardon the intrusion’, mind you. Most of them didn't even bother to say ‘thank you’ at the end, either. The rich threw money at me as if I could be bought and sold, and if I told them I wanted a bit of time to myself, they cursed me for being a selfish hag. It was as if I wasn't allowed to have a life of my own, so I hid out here and disguised myself. I figured that only those who had a true need would seek me out and confront my ugliness. And it worked. Hardly anybody could see past my outer appearance. Up until now, that is."

  She stood up and went over to a full-length mirror hanging from the wall.

  "I've always found the One to be a bit ingenuous," she said thoughtfully, looking at herself in the mirror. "We tend to see things in black and white and can be somewhat simplistic in our views." She spun around to face us and ran her hands over her face and body. "Take this, for instance," she said. "It's designed to be hideous, and very few people could see past the exterior, and even fewer even bothered to, except for you, human. That alone is intriguing enough for me to come with you, but your intensity," she announced, pointing at Thorn, "has swayed me. I can't guarantee anything, but I'll try. Agreed?"

  "Thank you," Thorn murmured. "Thank you from the bottom of my heart. All I want is for you to try."

  "Nicely said," Quina complemented. "Yes, I can but try. Just give me a minute here." So saying, she peeled off her face. Literally. Thorn gasped and Trix’s expression was one of fascinated horror. The mask came away to reveal Quina’s true
features. She was quite pretty under it all.

  "The mask itches a bit," she said, scrubbing at her cheeks with the palm of her hand. Then she pulled off her hair – a wig, as I had suspected – and she ran her fingers through her short blond tresses.

  "Ah, that's better!" she remarked, scratching at her scalp.

  "That's incredible," Trix breathed, watching the end result of the transformation. "You're a totally different person."

  "You'd be amazed how many can't see past the externals," Quina told her. "They get lost in either pity or disgust, and turn away. But, if you’ll give me a moment, I want to pack a few items for the journey. I won't be long." So saying, she walked out of the room. "Make yourself comfortable in the meantime," she called. Then she returned almost immediately. "By the way," she asked quizzically, looking at Zen, "is that a wolf you have there? I was going to ask earlier."

  "His name is Zen," Trix told her, proudly. "And he's the smartest pet there is."

  "I don't doubt it for a moment," Quina smiled. Then she disappeared around the corner again.

  "That is one odd priestess," Thorn whispered to me.

  "Isn’t she just," I whispered back. "But she appears willing to help. I only hope she can live up to her reputation as a miracle worker."

  Chapter 6

  When Quina returned, her raggedy outfit had been replaced by serviceable travelling gear. Her backpack clinked with the sound of bottles and she carried a curiously carved staff in her hand. "Let's be on our way," she ordered. "There are lots of questions I want answered, but we can discuss them on the road." She ushered us out of the house and locked the door behind her. "Lead on," she invited.

  Despite her assertion that she wanted answers, Quina became unusually silent for the first ten minutes or so of our trek. She kept her head down and appeared to be thinking deeply, so none of us intruded on her solitude. Finally she looked up and smiled at us all.

  "Very well," she said, addressing me, "let's hear your story first, Stephen. I want to know how things started for you and how you’ve become involved in all of this. I need some background information."

  And so I explained my situation. I related how I'd first met Thorn and how she came to me for help in finding the settlement’s Power Crystals, allowing Phil, the scientist, to incorporate me into a fairy clone. Then I recounted our first encounter with Trix and the adventures we'd all been involved in since.

  "But that's not all, is it?" Quina guessed. "There's more to the story, isn't there? I can sense a bond between you and your friend here."

  "Yes, there is a bond," I agreed. "The deepest of bonds."

  "I thought so," Quina declared. "It's fairly obvious, after all. Now, tell me about the sister. I want to know everything."

  So, taking a deep breath, I told her about Tracey – how beautiful she was and how she'd always been so vital and full of energy. My words faltered here and there as I mentally contrasted her present state of health and the worry I had for her. Quina didn't interrupt during my dissertation but, when I came to the part of my being with Tracey as well as here, she gave a gasp of surprise.

  "You're in two clones?" she questioned in astonishment.

  "I'm afraid so," I replied. "I know it sounds bizarre, but it was a natural solution to my dilemma of loving both Tracey and Thorn."

  "I'm not sure it’s a ‘natural’ solution at all," Quina murmured. "It sounds rather unnatural to me, but I have to admit that it is a rather daring and courageous solution. Hmmm, you lot are the most intriguing group I’ve ever come across. Talk about weird!" With that dubious compliment, she lapsed into silence once again.

  Nothing more was said for quite some time. We were all immersed in our own thoughts with the only exception being Zen. He was having the time of his life, running around like a mad thing, with seemingly inexhaustible supplies of energy. For some reason or other, he seemed particularly taken with Quina and would often come up to her for a pat.

  "He's not bothering you, is he?" Trix finally asked Quina.

  "Not at all," she replied, smiling slightly. "I've always had a special bond with animals and Zen is quite a remarkable creature. You're lucky to have him. Tell me how the two of you came together."

  Trix was only too happy to oblige and began to tell the tale of Zenith, Zen’s parent, and how they’d found each other in the wilderness. With Quina listening alertly, Trix then went on to describe how Zenith became head of the Wolf Clan and how he’d offered the amazing gift of his son to take his place as Trix’s companion.

  "Well, that's just incredible," Quina commented. "I've never heard anything quite like it before." She glanced around at all of us, and then switched her attention to Zen who was off romping in the immediate vicinity. "There's something about your group," she said softly. "Something unprecedented, I feel. I don't know what it is just yet, but I think that Destiny has marked you all in some special way. You didn't come together by accident." Having uttered that cryptic remark, she once again turned taciturn, her eyes glued to the ground.

  Chapter 7

  We stopped for a quick meal and Quina became more talkative. She seemed reluctant to talk about herself and confined her remarks to questioning us about our lives. Some people might have called her ‘nosey’ but I could see a pattern to her questions. Everything she asked about related to personal relationships and attitudes to life. I could discern her belief that personal health related to mindset, and she was trying to determine whether Tracey’s illness stemmed from her mental outlook. While she talked and listened, I tried to observe her objectively. Without her ugly disguise, she actually appeared quite handsome. Not in Tracey's class, of course, because my beloved had already locked and bolted the door to that room so nobody else could get inside, but Quina definitely sat in the classroom next to that. It was almost a crime she had to resort to uglifying herself in order to obtain some peace and quiet. I wondered if she’d ever had a boyfriend. Perhaps not. She was pretty enough to attract one, but her peculiar and individualistic lifestyle may have scared any potential suitors away. Not that it was any of my business, anyway.

  We finished our meal and set off again. Quina slid once more into an uncommunicative mode and I began to wonder if her solitary existence had affected her social skills. But, once the fairy settlement came in sight, she began to converse with us all in a normal fashion. She looked around eagerly, obviously visually starved for civilised surroundings, and I began to appreciate how lonely she must have been, living in her tumbled down shack. Our first stop was at the hospital, where we met my other clone who was sitting beside Tracey's bed. Quina gave a little start of surprise when she saw me – the other me, that is.

  "You're identical!" she breathed in wonder. "If it wasn't for the hair color I wouldn't be able to tell you apart."

  "It’s surprising how many people say that," I grinned.

  "I can imagine," she replied, going over to the sleeping Tracey and looking down at her. Quina ran her hands over the full length of Tracey’s body, felt her pulse and lifted back her eyelid to examine her eyes.

  "Well?" asked an impatient Thorn.

  "Don't rush me," Quina told her, not unkindly. "I know how much this must be hurting you, my dear, but I need a little time. Bear with me." It was at this stage of the proceedings that the doctor in charge of Tracey's case came into the room.

  "What are you all doing?" he demanded. "This patient needs rest."

  "It seems to me that's all she’s doing," Quina replied. "Have you made any progress at all?"

  "Are you a relative?" the doctor questioned. "If not, then you're not entitled to personal information."

  "I see you haven't changed much over the years, Totil," Quina said quietly. "Your people skills are still as bad as ever."

  The doctor peered more closely at Quina, then exclaimed, "It's you! Quina! What are you doing here? I don't want you practising your witchcraft on my patients, thank you. This is a hospital, not a coven. Charlatans aren't allowed inside."

  Q
uina sighed. "Your attitude hasn't mellowed either, I see," she retaliated. "I hoped that you might have become a little more open-minded with age, Totil, but that hasn't happened, has it?"

  "Hardly!" the doctor snorted contemptuously. "All your so-called ‘healing’ is just self-delusional nonsense for the gullible. Are you still practising your archaic rituals? You should be run out of the settlement."

  "I take it that you two know each other," I broke in, anxious to prevent a scene and to reduce the growing tension in the air.

  "Is it that obvious?" Quina said with a grimace. "Yes, Totil and I have a history of sorts. We started off as trainee doctors together but our interests diverged after that. Something …… happened ….. and I became more interested in the ……. um, ‘alternate’ side of healing."

  "You mean the illusion of healing, don't you?" Totil broke in. "Listen, Quina, I know you still feel badly about your sister, but you couldn’t have done anything at the time. Nothing would have saved her. We all did our best, you know that. Don’t blame yourself."

  Quina sighed regretfully. "I know, I know," she admitted. "But all of our orthodox medicines couldn't help her, and that's why I turned to the alternate methods of healing. But too late, of course. I should have started to study it a lot earlier. Then, maybe, it would have made a difference."

  "How can you believe in all that rubbish, Quina?” Doctor Totil argued. “You could have been a brilliant doctor instead of wasting your life fooling around with ridiculous and unscientific drivel."

  "As you can see," Quina wryly commented, looking around at us, "Totil and I don't exactly see eye to eye on this subject. Our viewpoints differ somewhat on the best way to treat a patient."

  "I use proven surgical techniques," Totil announced stiffly, "while you practice gibberish." He waved a cautioning finger at Quina. "Don't meddle with my patients, do you hear? I won't tolerate your interference in my treatments. Heed my warning!" Saying that, he stormed out of the room. At the doorway, he spun around and pointed to Zen. "And kindly remove that animal! It's totally unsanitary!" With that, he continued his exit.