JOINING THE OTHERS, ALLORY found herself hovering at the alleged edge of an alleged vertical shaft that neither she nor any of the Fae could see. She saw a nook in the tunnel wall – one of countless similar nooks they had passed, nothing special – with grey-brown bedrock as its walls, bottom and ceiling. Jhoranyal said it was no such thing. It was only when five of his magical adepts joined together and exerted what they called um-torian-ul, which Allory took to mean a kind of group exercise of willpower, that the true nature of the deep shaft became clear.

  Deep? Apparently bottomless.

  The Faerie, Pixies and Dragons murmured in surprise.

  Cool air brushed against and through her being, bringing an awareness of exotic, unnameable tangs and scents from the deeps. So rich and novel were the scents, she struggled to process them. Life? Almost certainly. Plenty of it – but what kind? Also, she noticed that the walls of this shaft were much more organic in appearance than the tunnel they had been using so far, with a rich, vein-like burgundy patina lying upon soft grey rock that had a texture similar to the bark of many types of jungle trees.

  It came as no surprise when Jhoranyal said, “Easily climbable by Elves. We’re going down?”

  Master Barakunal said, “Aye. Seer Amazas, will you need aid?”

  “I’ll ask when I need it, brash boy-o, and not a second before,” he cackled, causing smoke to literally curl out of the Master’s ears. Ashueli eyed the phenomenon with interest. “Let’s dive deep, my friends. Mysteries wait for no mystical mischievous mite masquerading melodiously … eh?”

  Having scratched behind his left ear, he produced a buttercup yellow butterfly of no less than ten inches in wingspan upon his palm. From where?

  Maybe it was magic.

  Allory giggled in delight. Eccentric and absentminded he might be, but Amazas was her kind of crazy. She liked him more and more. A gnarled fingertip stroked the creature lightly along its back, causing it to stretch luxuriously and flick out its gorgeous wings, shimmering now with indefinable magic. The old Seer sighed, his rheumy eyes brimming as he whispered, “And so it shall be. Fly, little one.”

  The butterfly launched off his cupped hands, creating a trail of dust-like magic that set the two Pixies muttering excitedly as it dipped into the shaft and then plummeted like a shooting star, attaining velocities Allory would have thought impossible for a delicate winged creature. The radiance faded within seconds.

  Suddenly, the Seer’s fingers sifted through her sparkles and he cried:

  Darkness

  Cold beyond

  Bounds or reason or knowing

  O audacious sparkle

  Ignite!

  Before she could think or gasp or process anything more than the incredible realisation that he had just delivered a verse in the form and structure she had known since her childhood, and memorialised countless examples thereof in her soul locket, the Seer whirled upon his heel and cast himself into the shaft with a whoop of joy.

  And … he flew!

  Gravity apparently being of lesser concern in the shaft than anyone had imagined. She and her companions stared after him in consternation, alarmed cries or yelps left unvoiced.

  Neat trick.

  With a teasing flick of Jhoranyal’s left ear, Ashueli backflipped off the edge over a drop no one knew the depth of and chuckled as she accelerated away, experimenting with the posture of her arms. Flying Elf! Her giant fiancé immediately saw the better part of reason and flung himself after her departing legs. Very manful of him. The other Dark Elves leaped off the edge with more or less trepidation, for even the most stoic of their number, Allory imagined, must surely mistrust the idea of truly flying.

  Drawing himself up, Yaarah flexed his wings and announced, “Terrible aerodynamic form from this bunch of neophytes, mrrr-prrrt. We winged creatures should show them how to –” he glanced sideways as Sabline loomed beside him, slipping her forepaw playfully beneath his neck “– fly like a real Drag – mrrwll!”

  With a powerful twist of her body, over the edge they went. She did like to keep her mate guessing. Being Yaarah, he had a thing or three to say about that, all in archaic adjectives.

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  Varzune said, “Want to go fetch our gleaming harpist, Allory?”

  Delivered with a slow, slow wink? Subtle.

  “If I must.”

  Her feigned unconcern drew a chuckle. Varzune made an encouraging, shooing gesture and mouthed, ‘You’re a living sparkle, what’s to worry about?’

  Eh? Only a million, billion things! Starting with Prince Complicated … and her deep conviction that no miniature Fae from the deepest jungles should have the chutzpah to even imagine they could ever be together. Never ever …

  Poor little me.

  Swat that voice right out of her life! How did it keep coming back?

  As she glided over to him, it was perhaps the change of light that caught his attention. Hansanori glanced up and said, “Pathetic enough for you?” He swiped belligerently at his eyes and adjusted the harp upon his back. “Well? I’m done, thanks for asking.”

  For a second, she was back in the family cocoon in the dead of night, her Dadfae snarling in oddly indistinct tones, ‘Pathetic little runt – well? Got something to say?’

  ‘I-I-I …’

  ‘I-I-I what?’ he sneered. ‘I’m turning in.’ His head dipped strangely and led the way to a collision with his bow, strung on the soft white silk wall of their cocoon. He stared stupidly at the weapon as if it had leaped out and swatted him across the antennae. Then, behind his back, his finger jabbed toward her. ‘One peep out of you, runt. One peep, and I’ll wring your scrawny neck for nectar, hear me? Sap’s sakes – one night – one night’s peace, is it too much to ask?’

  He collapsed in a heap.

  Allory remembered that incident all too lucidly. The moment his head rebounded off her foot and bone cracked with a sharp report. Come the morn, her Dadfae had not remembered passing out. Allory made up a lie about kicking a dry branch.

  Just another lie, one of many. She was an accident-prone Faeling. Everyone knew it.

  Everyone knew, aye, and they never raised a peep of protest. ‘What’s said inside the cocoon stays inside the cocoon.’ Saps’ sakes!

  Hansanori recoiled.

  Allory did the same, before squeaking, “What? What did I do?”

  “You just – you put on Sabline’s face. Fangs and all.”

  “I did? My sparkles?”

  “We should call you Nippy Sparkles.”

  “Suggids! How … oh … like this?” Allory’s every sparkle shivered and shimmered as he made a suitably horrified face. “Curious. It’s like a memory imprint.”

  “Perfectly terrifying,” he lied cheerfully.

  “And this?”

  “The image of Princess Ashueli,” he confirmed, with a polished bow, “and a heartfelt apology for being a stinking royal jerksap just now. Too much of that, of late.”

  Jerksap? Cackle. Not a word she had heard before, but it suited – perhaps a touch too well!

  Hansanori added, “Am I really such a whingy brat? Don’t answer that.”

  What to say? Before her sparkles quite exploded from an upwelling of mirth, she managed to stammer, “Hansanori, is being a royal like the stories, where everyone tells you what they think you want to hear?”

  Stare. Stare some more. With a rueful sigh, he said, “You may claim you’re a tiny no-Fae from far beyond nowhere, Allory Fae, but there’s clearly no shortage of wisdom around your cocoon. I would hear more of this jungle wisdom – with honesty, if that’s not too much to ask?”

  She bobbed lightly. “As you wish, my Prince.”

  “We should catch up with the others. Fly with me – but not too fast. I’d like to tell you about the Hansanori … the Hansanori I want to be. I’m not just going to turn over a new leaf. I’ll be a whole new tree! That’s the plan, anyways.”

  Someone was keen on the fizziest nectar of life.

  That, or he was trying to disguise the shame he felt. Rather closer to the cocoon, she suspected. Best not to discourage him. Making an inviting sort of murmur, about all her sap-frazzled brain would produce just then, Allory led the way to the new vertical shaft.

  They paused on the edge of the drop-off. A dozen or so Chameleons had lingered discreetly, which she appreciated. Allory was not sure she trusted too many branches of this whole new tree. Nor how she felt about him, this noble Fae who so effortlessly made her sparkles shiver, like at his appraising, sidelong smile now. As a royal, he must be used to having whatever he wanted. Servants. Fancy clothes. Tasty nibbles offered upon gorgeous platters. Ah … and all the other things a jungle girlfae could only imagine? Besides, which eligible girlfae in his entire kingdom would give up the chance if this handsome Crown Prince came calling?

  She must not be that compliant Allory anymore. Turn over a few new leaves of her own.

  Mildly, she said, “We can fly together, if you’d like.”

  While his emotional aura wobbled rather alarmingly at her neutral statement, Hansanori took the chance to expound, “So, while I’m at this sensitive formative stage in my character development – as in, I’m planning to develop some authentic, tangible character for a change – I’d appreciate honesty, but not too much honesty, if you know what I mean. I –”

  Jumbo jerksap, she thought.

  He paused to gape at her. “Ancestors alive, your sparkles really do bite, don’t they?”

  How had he read that in her response?

  Unevenly, she replied, “For my part, ever since I set about attempting to develop some character traits that resemble an actual backbone, I’ve discovered a few residual anger issues. So, when would you like to talk with Nippy Sparkles about who we both want to be, Prince Jerksap?”

  His jaw plunked almost onto his chest.

  Then, Hansanori burst out laughing. He bent double and guffawed until he cried with laughter – for a moment, Allory thought it might be a tantrum, but no, it was only his stomach hurting.

  She chuckled along merrily too. The silliness that popped out of her mouth these days!

  After a while, Hansanori’s paroxysms eased and he fixed her with one of those silvery grins that instantly turned her into Miss Mushy Sparkles.

  “It goes without saying,” he said, “that you are quite unique, Allory Fae. Don’t you ever change. Tell you what. If I ever revert to being that insufferable royal wet blanket from before, you have my full permission to address me as Prince Jerksap and upon my word of honour, there shall be no consequences. Agreed?”

  Mister New Tree can be truly agreeable when he wants to be – and quite the charmer. Have a care, runt. This can’t be true-sap or lasting, not in any way imaginable under Middlesun …

  Allory made a Sabline face at him.

  With all the enormous gravitas of his position as one soon to be crowned the most powerful Faerie in all Faedom, Hansanori pretended to swoon over the edge of the vertical shaft with a cluster of living sparkles nipping at his ankles.