The bargain struck with The Fairy Queen when he rid her land of the wayward changeling child still held. The deal was that The Emporium would forever be within her protection so that nothing bad, mortal, or unworldly can ever happen to it. Trouble was that he had no idea how to cash-in on it.
Before he went to bed that night, he scribbled a note in The Book of Un-Reality.
‘It is with great respect that I, one Professor Edward Urvaine Thrumpus requests an audience with the Fairy Queen.’ He wasn’t at all sure if it would do any good, but it was worth a try.
The next morning the sun streamed through a window that hadn’t been there before and woke him early. Yawning, Thrumps stretched his arms above his head and nearly jumped out of his skin when his fingers brushed the edge of something fluffy. Cautiously he opened his eyes. He’d gotten into the habit of peeping surreptitiously when things were strange, just in case it was a situation that required a bit of consideration before any action was embarked upon.
This was one of those times.
The fluffy-stuff were clouds. Not just any old clouds but great big blue ones that sparkled. They were not the wispy type that look like candy-floss but more like cotton wool, all thick and stodgy, the kind of thing that could easily have a surprise hidden inside.
The Fairy Queen smiled.
“Greetings, again my dear friend.”
The silver thrown she delicately perched upon was held firm by cobwebs of the finest glass, tethering it to the largest of the clouds. Adorning the others were all manner of enchanted creatures, all watching him intensely.
Thrumps bowed. If he’d have been wearing a hat, he would have doffed it but he wasn’t so he simply touched his fore-finger to his temple and tugged an imaginary lock of hair. The queen giggled obviously pleased to see him again. Flitting elegantly she landed at his feet and bid him walk with her.
The crushed grass scattered motes of the finest fairy dust all around them, making Thrumps feel as if he was walking on the air itself. The glade was alive, bugs that beggared any mortal description buzzed amongst colourful flowers so vivid they shimmered, and blades of what looked like swaying purple grasses sang in competition with the birds. What he first thought was a butterfly landed on his shoulder. When he took a closer look, it was a mischievous little faerie.
The queen regarded it with one raised eyebrow as if expecting it to automatically explain itself.
It curtsied. “Beg your pardon your majesty,” it began, mumbling into its pointed boots. “I’m not evil.” It said as if clarification was required.
“Just misunderstood?” Thrumps asked.
The Faerie frowned. “I am an unwilling messenger.” It stated puffing itself up to the dizzying height of three inches. The queen nodded, waiting patiently for it to continue.
“The Grand Magician Key …” it shuddered. “Has bid me inform you that he is willing to do you the courtesy of granting you an audience.” The little creature actually blushed.
“What are you to the wizard?” The queen asked gently.
“His daughter.” She stated.
“Do you share his views?”
The faerie shook her head, then thinking better of it blurted out, “please ma’am don’t tell him I said that.” Shaking, she began to sob. The queen shook her head.
Totally confused Thrumps shouted “An explanation would be nice,” but remembered himself … “please.” He added quietly.
The queen bid him sit. Where the chairs came from, well he had no idea but he did as he was told without question, it always seemed better not to ask when these types of things happened.
“The Council,” the queen began, “saw fit to intervene when little Flea here declared her disdain for the atrocities her father was committing. You see it all started when her mother was integrated into the Fold of the Good, to be honest she always was one of them but like many a teenager she rebelled and was hopelessly smitten by the bad boys of the Fae world for a while.” She smiled. “All young mortal and mystical girls go through it. It’s too easy to be impressed by the, how shall I put it … the thrill of mischievous escapades.” The young faerie stopped crying.
“Anyway, by the time Flea’s mother came to her senses and sort to return to the light, The Key contravened the protocol of the council regarding free movement and banished her, holding onto their daughter. For what ends was not at all clear, until now.” She shook her head.
“Flea has the ability to travel through time.” She continued. “One of the main quests, as you know is that The Key strives for control over your Emporium. With it he could not only rule all worlds unchallenged but also re-write history, making this a very dark place, one all those dedicated to the light would not be able to survive.”
Thrumps nodded. “Can you make good on your pledge of protection?” He asked hopefully.
She sighed. “Only if Flea will help.” Flea nodded eagerly.
“It will mean going up against your father.”
Flea nodded again.
“Very well then. The protection spell would have no power in the future if it were to be rewritten, but to do that we need the dangers within the underworld enchantment to be broken.” She was looking intensely at the little faerie.
Suddenly it dawned on her. “Ohhh no, you want me to go back down there,” she said.
The queen nodded, “It is the only way.”
Flea took a deep breath and puffed herself up.
“But you will help?” It was more a statement than a question, directed at both Thrumps and the queen. They both nodded.
“Take us back.” The queen commanded.
The Emporium was once again a magic shop. Most visitors were would-be magicians, kids and adults that had convinced themselves that they had a talent for witchcraft as a result of encounters with the likes of one Mr Harry potter, in either book or movie form. Flea breezed in and once again everything tainted with real magic instantly went into hiding.
She wanted the goblins in the locked cage.
“Come child?” The fairy queen gently slid her arms around the little faerie and walked straight through the locked glass door.
The Book of Un-Reality that lay in front of Thrumps flung itself open. There scrawled across the previous message, dripping in ink the colour of blood was the final part … The time IS now upon us all.
The catacombs reeked of decay. The faerie shivered as the goblins closed in around them.
“Where is your master.” The queen snarled. They chattered incessantly, all striving to be heard and all failing miserably.
“SILENCE!” The word echoed like thunder.
All was still.
A regally clad magician materialised before them.
“I AM THE KEY.” He bellowed.
The queen feigned mild interest, almost mocking the theatrical facade he was trying to create.
“Who has the audacity to enter my realm?” He continued unfazed.
“Well, you’ve not mellowed with age.”
“Mother dearest.” He said with scorn. The queen did not respond.
“Tell me child,” she drawled. “Are we in the past or the future, its so hard to tell in this dreary place.”
“Ohh, you know full well.”
The queen smiled. “Then it is done.”
“What?”
“Your spells are all uncast. Once acknowledged purity is allowed into the underworld all evil enchantment is broken.” The magician shook his head.
“But my dear mother you are so wrong. You are not that untainted, only an innocent child can wield that sort of power.”
With a flash of silver light Flea stood before them. Far too frightened to even breathe whilst cloaked she let out a huge sigh of relief.
“Hi, daddy.” The last word was spat at him with contempt.
The magician laughed. “She …” he said stabbing a finger at her, “is NOT pure.”
“That is as maybe, but I have been watching and although she has played witness to a great many things, she herself has never been responsible for any of the castings. She was kept against her will and her will is most definitely pure.”
Suddenly Flea was glowing, her curly blond hair looked as if it had been hand-crafted from sunlight itself.
The magician shielded his eyes.
“No more will you venture into any other realm.” The queen pronounced. A chant of concurrence assaulted his ears. The cavern was now filled with the full contingency of members of The Council.
Thrumps awoke. Slumped behind his desk, with his head resting on The Book of Un-Reality.
All the previous messages on the page had thick black lines scrawled through them. Underneath were the words … All is safe – for now.