Softy the Troll Page 6

  “It’s all right, Amazon, I’ll pay for it.”

  “I cannot let you do that,” she said indignantly.

  “Amazon, please, listen to me. You cannot pay for anything here. The fey market does not recognise human money. Nor will you be able to wear that dress outside our world. So you should stop worrying about it. After all, it pains me to say this but if it was not for me you and Peter would not be in this mess in the first place.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Is it not obvious, Amazon? I am so, so sorry, but I am afraid that they took Peter to get me involved.”

  Jenny stared at him, not knowing what to say. She wanted to be angry with him but his sorrow and her fatigue made it seem pointless.

  “What do you mean I will not be able to wear it?

  “The magic that sustains it will not work in your world. You could wear it to a party and you would see and feel it on you as you do now, but no one else would see it. You would go to the party looking as if you were wearing nothing but your underwear, a bit like the emperor’s new clothes, no? Now be still, she is returning.”

  Before Jenny could argue the beaded curtain was brushed aside and the monkey lady returned with a bright pink box. She took the dress off Jenny with surprising speed and ease and had it neatly folded inside the box before Jenny could blink.

  “Amazon, if you would please wait outside while I pay Madam Artiste. Stay in front of the tent and do not move. Do not go with anyone, even if it looks like Softy. This is the fey market, people have been lost here.”

  His words were polite, his tone gentle, and yet there was something in his manner that brooked no argument. Jenny left the tent and stood there, dazzled by all the strange sounds, smells and sights. She wanted to explore but White’s warning held her where she was.

  “Jenny,” came Softy’s voice to her left. She turned to find him approaching with a huge smile, carrying three large tankards filled with a golden liquid that gave off shimmering rays of golden light.

  “Softy, what do you have there?”

  “Food, like I said.”

  “That’s drink, not food.”

  “The drink is a very strong but filling mead. The tankards are a three course meal and gingerbread. You drink the mead and then eat the cup,” he explained with his big toothy grin growing even wider.

  Jenny looked at him uncertainly but took one of the surprisingly light tankards and sniffed its contents. It smelt of sweet cinnamon, nutmeg and mint. Its heat reached her hands through the woody texture of the tankard. She took a tentative sip, only then remembering White’s warning. She should not have drunk something just because it was given to her by someone who looked like Softy. Had she just been given poison by something that looked like Softy? Why had she dropped her normally suspicious nature with this man?

  She needn’t have worried. “It’s delicious. It tastes like tea, coffee, hot chocolate and honey all at once without tasting yuck.”

  “Well of course, heaven’s golden brew always is. Oh, of course, you have never tasted it before, have you? Forgive me, you seem to take this all in your stride so I keep forgetting that all of this is new to you.”

  “Yes, she does, doesn’t she?” came White’s voice from behind them.

  They turned around to see him carrying the box from the tent.

  “Thank you, Softy,” he said accepting one of the tankards. He drained it, gave out a huge belch and then took a big bite out of the tankard.

  “Come, the next place for us is Pusses. You need some shoes to go with the dress. May I please hold your hands? It will be easier for me to get through the crowds and less chance for us to get separated and lost.” White put the box in his rucksack, then whispered something to the white cane. To Jenny’s shock it turned into a white snake and slithered up one of his arms and into the rucksack. Then he took both their hands.

  Fairies

  Softy led them through the bustling crowd. Jenny could not take it all in. There were centaurs trotting through the crowd, their manes shining and coats rippling with huge muscles. Some wore colourful shirts and others were bare chested. Short thin creatures with what looked like po-go sticks instead of legs sprang through the crowds. They held trays with strange wares on them. She saw many dwarfs, some that looked like the ones she had seen in her world and some who had what looked like stone skin.

  Green, gold, red and silver lights flashed and zipped past them. One stopped in front of Jenny. It was bright green. Jenny stared at it as it floated there, almost touching her nose. As she stared into the mesmerising shifting shades of green she suddenly realised that she was staring and being stared back at by, what? A butterfly, moth, glow worm? No, was it what she thought it was?

  It was a fairy. It was not anything like Jenny had been brought up to think of as fey. Yes, the upper half was a pretty young lady in miniature, but below the waist it looked like the body, legs and fluttering wings of a butterfly. Before Jenny could do or say anything it was gone.

  “W, did you see that?”

  “See what?” asked W.

  “Jenny just saw and was seen by her first fairy.”

  “What did it do?” asked White sharply, stopping his progress through the crowd.

  “Do not worry, W, it did not do anything. It just stared at me,” soothed Jenny, not understanding what was up with him. “Even if it did something, what harm could it do? It was tiny.”

  “I keep telling you little one, stop judging fey by what you see. Fireflies look small and harmless, but they are not. They can change their size and charm you into doing things you would regret. Now come, Pusses is near,” he said reaching out to squeeze her shoulder.

  Pusses

  Softy stopped outside another tent that looked much the same as all the rest, even if it was made of black leather with multi coloured foot and paw prints.

  “We are here,” said Softy, seeming reluctant to go in.

  “What’s wrong, Sof?” asked Jenny.

  “It’s just I have never dared to go in here.”

  “Why not, is it so bad?”

  “No, it’s just that much of the community wrongly looks down their noses at Softy,” said White.

  “Why?”

  “Because he chooses to be different from what society believes he should be. They think his choice not to be a violent warrior like the rest of his clan is cowardliness. They do not see that his choice makes him braver than someone who gives in to what others think they should be. Do not worry, Sof, we will be with you. They will think we are all together, which we are,” said White trying to comfort Softy, but not really succeeding.

  Softy swallowed hard, squeezed their hands and gently pushed them towards the tent flap. They entered the tent. Inside was what must be a waiting room for there were low and comfortable black and white leather settees. Placed in front of them were low coffee tables piled high with cups of steaming hot coffee and large heavy catalogues. By now nothing should have surprised her, but all Jenny could do was stare. Seated on a high stool was a large Siamese cat wearing, of all things, flashy patent leather boots in bottle green.

  Of course, puss in boots, she thought feeling stupid.

  “May I help you, good sirs and madam?” asked the cat in what sounded to Jenny to be a condescending purr.

  “We wish to see Puss,” answered White.

  “Do you have an appointment?” asked the cat, clearly implying if not saying that he knew they did not.

  “Please be good enough to give your master this, would you?” said White handing the cat something which it grasped in a surprisingly prehensile tail. It curled it in front of itself so that it could properly see what it was holding. It was an earring, a silver stud and ring, and dangling from the ring was a large piece of jade shaped into a half moon.

  The cat’s eyes widened. “How did you get this?” it asked, its eyes narrowing in suspicion, its fur puffing up and its whiskers twitching.

  “How does anyone get things? I was given it. No
w please go give it to your master, would you,” asked White in a most courteous manner, but Jenny could have sworn she saw a mischievous glint in his eye when he turned away.

  The cat gracefully leapt to the ground and rang a small bell, then stood there waiting. There came an answering ring. The cat whisked through a thick leather curtain into the inner sanctum.

  The three of them sat down on one of the very comfortable settees. Jenny felt out of place. She did not like the looks the three of them were getting from the other customers. One of them was a huge spider wearing a bright red waistcoat and very long boots. They should have made it look ridiculous but they did not. It looked like it was about to spring on them at any moment. Another was one of those huge intimidating centaurs, but sitting next to him was a much smaller delicate one, obviously female, dressed in a tunic of green decorated with blue flowers.

  “Softy, is this a shoe shop?”

  “Do not let Perkees Undeen Serrees here you say that, but yes.”

  “Who?”

  “Perkees Undeen Serrees, better known as Puss, the most desired footwear fashion guru in all the lands.”

  “What do centaurs want with a shoe shop?” asked Jenny, also in a whisper.

  “They probably need their hooves gilding or something,” answered Softy.

  “To steady her nerves she finished her drink and took a tentative bite out of the tankard. It broke easily in her mouth with the texture of biscuit. It tasted at first like mushroom soup, then as she bit down further it changed to steak and kidney pie, then finally sherry trifle. After what seemed like a long time but probably wasn’t, the Siamese was back, looking crestfallen.

  Ignoring the other clients, to their surprise and anger, he flicked his tail and whiskers towards them. “If you would like to follow me the maestro will see you now.”

  “Thank you,” replied White, getting up and holding onto Softy and Jenny.

  They followed the cat in. Jenny could feel the other clients’ eyes on them and could hear the spider clicking its mandibles at them. She wanted to turn around but she felt that if she did so the spider would pounce.

  They walked into the inner room which was lusciously appointed. Everything was in reds and golds and decorated with paw prints. Set in the centre of the tent was a large gold cushion, on which was sitting a very large rotund tabby cat. Hanging from both of its ears were a large number of earrings, two of which were jade half moons. After the Siamese the tabby was something of a let down.

  “Ambassador, it’s such a pleasure to see you after all this time. Thank you for returning my earring, I wondered what had happened to it.”

  “You’re welcome, your Grace. You left it in my bed,” he said with a shy smile. “How are yourself and your family?” asked White, bowing to the cat and speaking most courteously.

  “They are well, thank you, and who are these with you?”

  “Softy of clan Wood and Jenny Charity, my ward.”

  “I am most pleased to meet you.”

  “May your whiskers never wilt and your claws always be sharp,” greeted Softy shyly.

  “Why thank you, may your trees never wither,” replied the cat.

  “Moon Eyes, I am sorry to rush you, but we are, alas, on a very tight schedule.”

  “Of course. I of all people know the meaning of time is money. Now, what can I do for you? Something for yourself, perhaps?” asked the cat staring down at White’s moccasins.

  “Leave my footwear alone. There are still loads of good wear in them. No, it’s my young ward. She needs some new shoes to visit the Winter Court.”

  “And you came to me, I am honoured. Please sit down,” he said and with a purr three comfy chairs appeared. “Now, miss, what kind of shoes would you like?”

  “Um, I do not know.”

  White held out the pink box. “Something matching this.”

  The box floated out of his hands and hung in front of Puss. The lid floated off and the dress was gently unfolded and held in mid air by unseen hands. It shimmered in the lamp light like a shard of twilight.

  “How pretty. Lady Silk?”

  “Just so,” agreed White.

  The unseen hands neatly folded it back in the box and replaced the lid.

  “Perhaps these will do?” he purred questioningly. He made a number of sharp meows and the floor started to writhe in front of them. Softy moved back in fear but he did not need to worry. It was only a table with several shoe boxes on it, which rose from the ground. A box opened and a pair of short high heels in the same shade of blue were lifted out.

  “I cannot wear high heels,” protested Jenny.

  “You might be surprised, try them on,” urged Puss.

  Softy squeezed Jenny’s hand. Reluctantly, she slipped off her trainers, all too aware of her smelly feet. She slipped her broad foot into the all too narrow shoe. To her surprise it fitted like a glove. She tried the other one on. It fitted just as well.

  “Try walking in them,” urged Puss.

  She hesitantly did so. She expected to stumble or walk like a penguin, but she moved normally, possibly even more gracefully than normal.

  “What do you think?” asked Puss.

  “They’re wonderful!” exclaimed Jenny.

  “We will take them,” said White, reaching into a pocket and taking out a large pouch that clinked as White placed it in front of Puss.

  The unseen hands picked the shoes up and placed them back in the box. It floated into the air and nudged White, who had taken on a far away look again, as if he was listening to some sound or music only he could hear.

  Was it Jenny’s imagination or did great shock show on his face, just for a moment? He took the box and pulling a large sack from his rucksack placed both boxes into it and handed it to Softy.

  “Here, gentle one, I think you should keep hold of these. Thank you, maestro, please give my regards to your family.”

  “And mine to yours.”

  “Thank you,” said Jenny. Not knowing what else to say she turned and followed White with Softy behind her.

  “Right, we need to get supplies,” suggested Softy.

  “You’re right, and while we are at it we might as well get Jenny’s mobile fixed. I tell you what, I’ll get the supplies. Softy, take Jenny to Fix-It, okay?”

  “Okay,” agreed Softy.

  “But I thought you could not get around the fair without getting lost?” exclaimed Jenny, turning from Softy to where White had been. He was not there anymore, he had disappeared into the crowd.

  “Come, kind one, he will be all right. He has been playing the Summer and Winter Courts against each other longer than we have lived. He will not get lost,” he told her with certainty. “Come Fix-Its is not far, but you must still stay close to me, it might get rough.”

  “What do you mean?” Jenny asked but he just grabbed hold of her hand and turned and started pushing through the crowd.

  Fix-Its

  The look of the fair started to change. The tents began to look cheaper and the people rougher. Their clothes were less rich and colourful with fewer silks and more leather. They were less like aristocrats and more like workmen and farmers.

  “Softy, what’s wrong with them?” Jenny asked in a whisper.

  “Wrong? What do you mean?” he whispered back.

  “They have strange scars and many of them look sick. They look at me with hatred.”

  “It’s not you personally, sweetie. They have good reason to hate humans,” he said as a stick thin woman with wilting leaves drooping from her head and deep cracks and slimy moss covering her green skin glared daggers at them as they passed.

  “I do not understand.”

  “Jenny, we are fey. Creatures of air, earth, fire and water, creatures of mother earth. How do you think the way your kind treats nature affects us?”

  “I do not know.”

  “I do not mean to upset you, sweet one, but your race is poisoning us. These fey you see are the ones that have been affected the worst. Do
not worry, we will be all right. Just keep walking and do not look them in the eye.” He tried to reassure her, but Jenny could tell by the tremor in his voice that he tried to hide but failed to, and the rapid darting of his eyes everywhere that he was afraid of these fey.

  Suddenly two very big fey blocked their way. These Jenny could identify for she had seen their kind before, they were trolls. One was one of Softy’s kind and the other was like the troll that had guarded that club or whatever it was. They both wore raggedy sleeveless tunics that stopped just above their knees. They, too, looked sick. Their skin was covered in a spider’s web of cracks and the parts that were not cracked looked like they had been dipped in acid. They were both missing claws and teeth. The smell coming off them was like a blocked drain.

  “Please let us pass,” asked Softy, his voice rising notably, sweat shining on his dark skin.

  “Go away and try being a true troll for once. No, stay and be a real troll. Help us slowly eat this stinking, poisoning human,” growled the one like Softy.

  Softy’s skin paled. He bunched up his muscles and clenched his fists, trying to look tough and failing. “The Lady Charity is under the Ambassador’s protection,” squeaked Softy.

  If he thought that would stop them, he was mistaken. They just laughed derisively and slowly advanced on them. Jenny looked behind her to see if they could run for it. A crowd of watchers had gathered. They stared back, their gaze filled with a passive hatred. They would not help or hinder but they would enjoy what was about to happen.

  We’re about to get battered. Then Jenny did something, and even she did not know why she did it. She stepped in front of Softy, lifted up her left hand and held it palm out towards their aggressors. The scar White had carved into her hand began to burn. She looked down at it in horror. What was happening? she had not broken her oath, why was it hurting? It was standing, out no longer faded but blazing with a strange light. Words she did not know spilt out of Jenny’s mouth. “Ssis sams sunders sthes sambasisoors sprowsecsions sleeves sus sallones sors sous swills seals stses sraphs sofs stses sarages sofs stseirs shoushs.”