Summer's End

¶ The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished.

It was the one good thing that happened that day.

The leaf-shaped boat was tossed in the spray, pulled backwards up waterfalls and rapids. Puck held on for dear life, swinging the oar to and fro. He avoided rocks and rounded bends that seemed MUCH sharper going the wrong way. The spray drenched his green travelling cloak, and he hunched over the fragile little bundle wrapped against his chest, desperate to keep it dry. He sung soft nonsense words, too distracted with surviving to think up a proper lullaby. He hushed and crooned, trying to sooth the baby as it wailed shrilly enough to shame a banshee! He heaved on the oar as he saw another inverted waterfall up ahead, and desperately tried to shield the baby from the spray!

As they crested, he found himself in a much wider, slower part of the river. Panting, mindful of the upcoming bend, he tended more carefully to the child. She had golden curls, and eyes green as river stones. Her skin would have been a beautiful pale snowy complexion, were it not a deep crimson hue from her screaming her poor little lungs out.

He reluctantly set down the oar to tend to her fully, trying to rock her much more gently than the boat had a moment ago. He gently patted her back, kept murmuring nonsensical nothings, trying to sooth her rage. Tears squeezed her scrunched eyes, and indeed, a few dripped from his own as he looked at this child.

His lord and master Oberon had entrusted her to him. "Bring her to the Land of Nights. Keep her safe. I will will call upon you."

And then he had turned away, back to the preparations for defense.

Looking back now, Puck saw the river winding up the forest. He couldn't see Oberon's palace from here. But he could see winged shadows moving up in the cloudy sky. The blue sun of Faerie had been covered by clouds for many hours, now, and not a crack of yellow sky could be seen anywhere. As Puck watched, the shadows circled slowly. Intently. Searching.

Valravn.

Puck shuddered. Adjusting his satchel, he gripped the oar once again. The baby was still crying, but it seemed most of her screams had gone. Looking ahead, Puck tried to ignore the creatures behind him, knowing they were looking for something. And on this, the darkest, coldest day the Summerlands had ever known, he knew they could only be looking for him. Or...

He hugged the baby more tightly to his chest, and braced his hooves to the sides of his leaf-shaped boat. He knew there were a few more waterfalls ahead. And as the chilled, endless day continued he was splashed, drenched, and knocked about like a seed in a rattle. But for all her cries and wimpers, he kept the baby safe and dry. And after one last perilous flight up the As Àirde falls, up the side of Mount Àrd, he finally came ashore to the rocky beach of the river. He stumbled onto the mountain's steppe, his knees and tarsals wobbling unsteadily after the hours of clenched strain. Panting, he glanced back as the boat slipped off shore, carried further along the wrong-way-river. He didn't care. He wouldn't be going back that way anyhow.

He staggered into the lee of an overhanging willow to catch his breath, untangling the strap of his satchel from around his neck. Panting for breath, he wrung out his cloak as best he could. As he watched, even the drips of water tried to flow back up the mountain. Back towards the spring from which it sprung. He chuckled at the stupid thought, relaxing as the small bit of silliness reminded him what made life in Faerie so wonderful. He looked down at the baby. She was no longer crying now. She had exhausted herself, and was sleeping, if fitfully, her tiny fists clenching in frustrations.

"There there, little one. Uncle Puck will keep you safe." Puck let her grab ahold of his finger, and she squeezed as if for dear life, her eyes still shut in sleep. "My, aren't you a strong one," he chuckled. In spite of their situation, Puck couldn't help but smile at her determination.

His smile died as three shadows shot up from below the cliff. Black, rotted forms shed putrid feathers. They shot up the river, following the ravine. The rancid smell of mildew spoiled the otherwise crisp mountain air.

Ignoring his protesting legs, Puck picked up the baby, and began making his way further into the Wilds. It would only be a minute or so until they found the boat, drifting in the river. He hoped that they wouldn't realize how close they had come, and might check further back along the bank. Maybe even at the bottom of the falls!

But Puck never gambled in a game he couldn't cheat at. And there was no cheating here. He pushed on, using paths he had often travelled centuries back, in more carefree days. They had become overgrown with disuse, but the foliage pulled back in warm recognition of his return. A pained smile flitted across his face. He made a silent promise to come back, in the future, when peace was restored.

At last, he found the glade. A perfect circle of unwooded area, surrounded by fourteen trees. Their branches interlocked, and their canopy hiding it from above. Only he and Oberon knew of this place. There were a few like it, but this one had been kept secret, just in case...

"In case something like this happened," he sighed to himself.

Wasting no more time, he moved to the middle of the glade. He waved his hand to form a soft cushion of dead, purple leaves, gently laying sleeping baby in its center. Then, producing various herbs and minerals from his satchel, he started etching a rune circle into the magic around her. It was easy enough to make it large enough for both of them. But it would take time for the magic to crystalize along the proper lines. He COULD just send her through, but Oberon had ordered him to care for her in the Land of Nights, and he would not shirk his duty, whatever the risk. He was a self-admitted coward, and proud of it! But he was a loyal coward, and would see his duty through. He needed only a few minutes more.

The high, ululating shriek of a valravn shattered the peace of the forest. The sounds of birds and insects silenced immediately. The plants stopped swaying with the breeze, frozen in fear. The only sound that could be heard, now, was the sobbing cries of a small baby, in a pile of leaves. Dread clawed at Puck's heart, as he knew what was to come. In a single flash, a plan formed. Not a smart plan. Not a good one. But it was better than nothing, which is all he had right now.

First running around the clearing, he scattered fistfulls of fine white crystals in a wide circle at its edge. Next, he returned to the large rune he had already made around the child. From the sounds of it, they would be upon him before it had finished growing. His only choice would be to send her to the Land of Nights alone. But, there was still a bit of excess magic he could tweak. Not enough to carry himself through. But JUST enough to make this last joke especially good.

"Hail, Puck."

The friendly words did not match the icy tone of the Winter Queen, Mab. But friendliness was never her forte. Puck glanced over his shoulder, knowing what he would see.

She was pale, with straight black hair that hung to her waist, eyes blue as a frozen river, and lips cold as a corpse. Her gown was a deep purple, the color of frozen roses, and she looked exactly how a Queen of Faerie ought to.

"Hi Queenie." Puck waved dismissively, continuing to tweak his spell. "I'm a little busy at the moment. I don't suppose you could bother us later?"

"No." Mab did not rise to his bait. She never did, damn her. "My battle is won. You and your Lord have lost. Give her to me now."

Puck picked up a small purple leaf from the pile. Sprinkling some ointment on it, he held it out to the shrieking baby, who grabbed hold of it.

"Ignore me at your peril, Fool of Oberon!" Her last words split the air like a thundercrack, and from the woods, a hoard of valravn burst, like a black blizzard. They all streaked towards the clearing, each vying to be the first to reach him.

And it was the first valravn that died, rather pathetically, as it reached the salt barrier Puck had sprinkled. Its beak shattered, its neck twisted and broke as its body crushed it against the invisible barrier. As it slumped to the leaves below, more valravn crashed into the barrier. Some broke their bodies upon it, others tried to claw at it, their talons grinding dull against nothing. They all shrieked and screamed, furious at being denied!

With a wave of his hand, Puck sealed the barrier fully, so that no light or sound could pass. In the darkness, only the baby could be heard, screaming in fear. After a moment, a pale lavender light emanated from her hand, as the leaf began to glow. Puck placed his cool palm on her feverish cheek, his vision was blurry with tears, both out of care for this fragile little child, and knowing that he could not finish his Lord's final order. Gently, he kissed her forehead.

Then, with the leaf clutched firmly in her hand, he let the rune circle complete. And with a last, echoing cry, the baby vanished into a circle of light.

His magic would keep her safe, in the Land of Nights. At least for a time. He didn't know where exactly she would arrive, which was a risk. But it also meant that Mab could not follow.

There was a thunderous crack, as the salt-barrier began to give. Puck scooped up an armful of leaves. Smearing them with the ointment on his hands, he dumped them into the portal. Dispelling the rune, he scooped up another armful, and quickly formed a facsimile of the child, sleeping peacefully.

With another crash, the barrier collapsed, the otherwise dark cloudy day feeling infinitely brighter than the dark within. Puck shielded his eyes, squinting at the figure striding towards him.

Mab's face did not change from her usual frozen expression. But her eyes blazed with a rage unnervingly hot for the Winter Queen. "Salt," she hissed. "You dare bring salt into Faerie? My, Faerie?"

"A souvenir from the Land of Nights, your majesty." Puck kept his tone blithe and light. He held the facsimile protectively, knowing his farce wouldn't last. "I thought I might need it some day. Today, even!"

Mab said nothing, for a time. Simply staring. When she spoke, her voice was calm and measured. "The Winterlands are dying. Humans are killing the Natural Order." She took a step forward. "And yet, no matter how many times I asked my sister for help, no aid came!"

"Asking her to kill all humans who don't remember us isn't exactly the same as asking to borrow a cutting of parsley. Queen Titania—"

"DO NOT SPEAK HER NAME!"

Puck's legs buckled beneath the weight of her fury. The sky darkened, lightning crackled. And then, impossibly, snow began drifting down into the Summerlands. Mab spoke now with unmasked fury. "You are unworthy to sully her name with your lips, creature! I loved my sister. I still love my sister. I will not let you besmirch her with your jokes and japes! Give. Her. To. Me!"

His head was spinning. He could feel liquid oozing out of his ears. Dazedly, he handed her the facsimile. She let it drop through her fingers, the body scattering into a flurry of leaves, settling among the snow and frost.

"The real, child, Fool. I will give you this one chance!"

On his knees, Puck looked up at the Winter Queen. He knew the power she wielded. He knew she could crush him with a her word. She practically had already. He was not an obstacle to her. He could never stop her if he tried.

He laughed!

His laughter bubbled out of his throat, as he cackled, tears of joy, of sorrow, of pain leaking from his eyes! He stared up at this monstrous being before him, and spoke for what he knew would be the last time!

"Soil your hands in the dirt, oh Queen. Pick up each of those leaves you just dropped, put them together, and you'll have just as much chance of finding the child here as where I've sent her. She is safe, now. Safe in the Land of Nights! Where, not even I know."

"You truly are a fool's Fool," said Mab. "My subjects will follow her scent, and bring back the child who smells of Fairie."

"All of them?"

Mab faltered. She stared at Puck, her frozen countenance cracking.

"What?"

"You'll find all of the children, who have now been blessed with gifts from Faerie? All those who have now been born with leaves of the Fae Wilds in their hands? My Queen, even you cannot kidnap every child you see fit. Even you cannot break the Law of Faerie!"

The wind howled with the Winter Queen's rage, freezing Puck's still damp cloak to his back. The leaves swirled and scattered in fear. He stared up, grinning at her fury. "The child is safe, hidden among others with her gifts. And by the time you find her, she will be ready for you!

"You lose, Mab!"

He did not see what happened next. Did not enjoy her reaction to his using her name. Did not feel her strike him. All he felt were the now freezing leaves of the Wilds caressing his face, covering him in a growing pile. Darkness came. A long, frozen darkness. But there was a light, he knew.

Puck never gambled a game he couldn't cheat. And he had cheated oh so beautifully!

His charge, Summer Queen Titania of Faerie, was now safely hidden away on Earth.