The tavern was still bustling, and Cassie guided them to a free table by the back wall, one of the few available. Regardless of her efforts to shield them from direct view, their entry attracted attention anyway. Fairies stopped talking to their neighbors. They rested their forks and full drinks on the table with loud, echoing clunks.

Chris selected a chair across from his brother, and they both slouched in their seats. Cassie was the only one who seemed at ease. She stood by the end of the table and waved to a redheaded fairy drying dishes at the bar. The fairy, when she noticed, zipped over and they embraced like old friends meeting by chance after a long separation.

"See, I told you I'd be back in no time," Cassie said to her. "Christopher, Joseph, this is Vela. She keeps me out of trouble."

"I try to anyway," Vela said, snapping at a few capable-looking male fairies by the entrance. They stepped outside and appeared to take up posts for watch duty. "I'm glad all of you made it here in one piece, especially you, Miss Cassiopeia." She leaned toward Chris and Joe. "She thinks she can take on our world's treachery singlehandedly."

"It wasn't singlehandedly," Cassie claimed. "I followed a truly inspired plan put together by a number of exemplary individuals, and everything fell into place accordingly."

"Inspired? You do realize, my dear, who you sound like. You have obviously been spending too much time with Pierre," Vela said with her hands on her hips.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

Vela contorted her lips to the side in response to that. She didn't seem the type to hold back, ever, but in this rare case she let the matter rest. "You must be famished," she said instead. "I'll get the boys in the back to whip you up something special. My treat."

"All right, Princess," Joe said as soon as Vela flew away. "I can't take it anymore. Why are we here? And by the way, why is everyone in this establishment staring at us? Still?"

"Well," Cassie said as she took a seat in the chair beside Chris, "those questions are related. People are staring at you because of who you are and what you represent."

"And what do we represent exactly?" Joe pressed on.

"You represent the hope that Pyxis will be free from tyranny someday."

"That's a bit heady. And I'm guessing this has something to do with our father, since the angry queen bee wants to find him so badly."

"Precisely. Rigel challenged my family, the Sauvageaus, those who've ruled Pyxis for centuries. Not only that, he crippled them, and unlike anyone else who ever posed a challenge to my family's sovereign rule, he made it out alive."

"Rigel?" Joe asked.

"Yes. You know your father as a human named Scott MacRae, but he is a Modifier, one of the most influential and notorious of all time, and among the fairies he is known by the star name, Rigel," Cassie said, pausing for a moment to let her words sink in. "Both of you have four black dots at the back of your neck in the shape of a diamond. That is your fairy mark, and it signifies that you are of your father's kind."

Chris slumped deeper in his chair and crossed his arms. "Couldn't this Rigel character be someone else—a distant cousin or something?" he said, and then his eyes darted to the front door as it opened. Accompanied by the ring of a bell, two brash-looking redheaded male fairies made it past "security" and veered toward the bar.

Cassie glanced too but didn't seem concerned. "That is unlikely. Before he entered the human world and became your father, Rigel was his kingdom's only survivor. He gave himself the human name MacRae as a sort of reminder; the name, from an old Scottish clan, means 'son of grace.'"

"Does that mean he's royalty too?" Joe went on.

"Yes, he was a prince of Polaris, a Modifier city that was too large and powerful for Pyxis to tolerate. But, to avoid a war, the two cities signed a treaty, and an arranged marriage completed the agreement. I am confident that by now you can guess who the bride and groom were."

"Andromeda and our father. Wow. But clearly it wasn't a match made in heaven?" Joe leaned forward, put his elbows on the table, clearly intrigued.

Chris, however, remained silent. Although he'd been fascinated by the fairies and their manifold wings, he remained suspicious of this subterranean world. Moreover, he had long harbored anger at his father. The revelation that his father's actions had been the catalyst for the upending of Chris's entire life in the space of less than a day was turning that anger into something closer to hate.

Chris remained in this dark place even after Vela fluttered over with a tray of food and mugs of ale. Joe and Cassie devoured the meat with gravy, the sweet berry preserves, and the toasted bread while Chris merely picked at it. The resentment and dread pitted itself in his stomach and was occupying the space meant for nourishment.

After she'd had enough to eat, Cassie sipped her ale and dabbed her face with a cloth napkin. "Would you like to hear more?"

"Definitely," Joe replied. "This story was starting to get interesting. You left off at the part where our father married your mother."

"After their wedding, the stories say, the Pyxis Princess and the Prince of Polaris were fiercely yet fleetingly passionate. That passion, however, did not mature into fondness."

Joe laughed and simultaneously winced. "That's a diplomatic way of putting it."

After an awkward pause Cassie continued: "Before long, all that heat and fire turned deadly. Your father found out about a plan to eliminate Polaris from the fairy world, despite the treaty, and he confronted Andromeda about it. In the battle that ensued, he gave my mother the scars on her face and killed her beloved father, the king. He then fled the Aerial Palace, but he didn't leave empty-handed. He stole something, but only he and Andromeda know what it was. Was it a sacred or magical artifact? Something valuable or merely sentimental? I'm not certain. Finding both him and it, though, was an undertaking worthy of grand armies and large fortunes. Andromeda looked everywhere for many years, but your father had changed his size, status, and name and had assimilated into the human world, an advantage of your kind."

"Our kind?" Joe asked. "Are we different from your kind? How many types of fairy are there?"

"There are many, but they can be loosely classified into three groups. There are Modifiers, like you. Many have settled in Pyxis, though most not by choice. Overall, they are not in the majority, but they are fairly common in the southern part of the city. I'd say up to one in ten. Now, I am obviously bound to the ground too, so I mean no disrespect when I tell you that Modifiers are sometimes referred to as Bottom-Dwellers. It's not a phrase the fair-minded among us use in polite conversation, but I wanted to inform you, in case you hear it.

"As you can see around you, most fairies possess wings. They are sometimes called Royal fairies. They have the advantage of flight but can never become the size of a human. Then there are the Constants—fairies like me. Though my mother is a Royal, I am not; I can neither fly nor change form.

"Finally, there are your children, Chris. They can do both. Before today, Royal Modifiers existed to us only in legend. They have been much sought after, though never found. The Royals may scoff at your size-changing capabilities, yet they are really quite envious. Any fairy capable of both flight and modification would be of particular interest to my mother. . . ."

Chris's chair ground across the stone floor as he stood. "If she plans on hunting down my children again with particular interest, like they're some science experiment. . . No offense—this has been real fun and all—but we need to leave Pyxis immediately."

Cassie stood too and grasped his arm. "Chris, I understand your concern. Unfortunately, there is no easy way out. This cave is neatly tucked away in the boreal forest in Nord-du-Québec, the northernmost section of Canada's Quebec province. The nearest road is, in human terms, kilometers away, and the nearest town is much farther. This region is nearly uninhabited. And, I'm sure you are aware, it is December. You don't have the appropriate clothing or transportation—"

He cut her off by lifting his hand. "Canada? How did we even get here? Did those bastards drag our heavy human forms through the snow for hundreds of miles? I doubt it. So if they got us in, there has to be a way out."

"I do not have the abilities or worldliness of a Modifier, and I am unaware of how my mother's Gray Coats were able to bring you here from such different parts of the human world. I do know there has to be a way, like you said, but we will need time to find it."

"Chris, she's right," Joe said. "We need some rest and a feasible plan before we do anything rash. Please sit. We'll come up with something."

Chris collapsed back in his chair. Unconsciously needing some reassurance, he reached for his wedding ring. He became even more infuriated when reminded once again of its absence. "And by the way, about sixty shady characters are staring at us. How many minutes will it take before they swarm this place?"

"There will always be some risk no matter where you are," Cassie admitted as she eased back into her chair. "I hope I can assure you that Andromeda's Crown Champions and Gray Coats rarely fraternize in the South End. They consider it below their status. And the door sentinels will slow them down and give us a signal if they happen to wander through, nonetheless. Plus, we arrived in good time. Pyxis is not easy to locate without assistance. Once you fail to turn up elsewhere, they will eventually consider that possibility and swarm the area in full force. Until then, your very existence is inspiring, and in the fight for change, it will do more good than harm."

Chris leaned back and crossed his arms. "Not convinced, but whatever."

He needed her to instill him with confidence. But the return of the childlike fear in her eyes had the opposite effect on him. Despite her logical, well-delivered explanation, they were still in danger and ill-prepared to deal with it.

Soon a lanky, wingless fairy with a five o'clock shadow interrupted their lull in conversation. "Cassiopeia, mon petit ange! It is très fantastique to see you again," he crooned with a melodic and flirtatious French accent.

Cassie rose from her seat to greet him. He gave her a kiss on each cheek, and his hand remained on her back a little longer than necessary. Even without an introduction, Chris had already guessed he was Pierre, the source of Vela's unspoken qualms.

"Can I join you for an ale?" the fairy asked, holding up the mug he already had in hand.

Cassie gestured to the empty chair next to Joe. "Certainly. Chris, Joe, this is Pierre Delacroix. He is originally from Quebec City and like you, he had a human childhood. Pierre, meet the MacRae brothers, Christopher and Joseph."

"Of course, of course!" Pierre said with phony surprise. "I've heard so much about you! How does it feel to be the sons of the revolution?" He pulled the extra seat to the head of the table, closer to Cassie than Joe, and eased into it with snake-like fluidity.

Joe squinted one eye and emitted a quick chuckle. "We just got here. I'm not sure that's true."

"Oh, but it is true! My readers will be just as excited as I am!"

"Pierre is the editor of The Pyxis Discourse," Cassie informed them. "It's a publication dedicated to bringing equity and democracy to Pyxis."

"And this right here is our secret weapon." Pierre placed his hand on Cassie's back again. His sway and goofy smile made it clear that the ale he'd brought to the table was not his first of the evening. "She has given us vital information about the Aerial Palace's layout and routines. And you two will bring the movement to the next level. Your father would be the last missing piece. He is a born leader and an inspiration to us all! If you want to bring Andromeda to justice, you may want to find him."

"We don't know where to look," Joe admitted.

"If I were you, I would retrace my steps," Pierre suggested. "A fairy of Rigel's status never goes anywhere without a purpose. Think of places you've been and people you've known."

"And, because of the children, Andromeda will want to locate anyone with a blood ties," Cassie added.

"There are children? What am I missing? What is wrong with them?" Pierre asked from the edge of his seat.

Cassie and Joe exchanged wary looks. Then they both looked to Chris, as if seeking his permission.

"Well?" Pierre persisted.

Joe gave Chris an apologetic shrug. "They can fly."

"Why was I not immediately informed?" cried the fairy. "This is bigger than big!"

"Not big enough to be in your little newspaper, though. Right, Pierre?" Chris made sure to ask.

"No, no, most certainly not!" Pierre puffed in defense. "I always do what is best for Pyxis, even if it means personal sacrifice!"

When Pierre looked away, Chris shot his eyes to heaven. Going by his first impression, he agreed with Vela. Pierre was about as trustworthy as a leprechaun next to an unattended pot of gold. With his ridiculous green hat, he even looked like a leprechaun. Well, not really, but he certainly didn't look like Robin Hood.

"I wonder how they inherited the wings," Joe said with an intellectual twinkle in his eye. "Maybe our mother was a fairy too. Unfortunately, she died back in March, so we can't ask her about it. Chris, don't we have an aunt in Connecticut? Do you think she would know anything? I wonder if wings are considered a dominant or a recessive trait—"

Chris kicked his brother under the table, a little too hard but a little too late.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Do I really have to answer that?"

"No worries. Your secrets are safe with me, my friends," Pierre assured the brothers, though unconvincingly. "Joe, you seem to know something about heredity. Did you have an opportunity to study the natural sciences?"

"Well, I was almost a medical doctor, but that didn't work out. I currently write screenplays for the movies. Or at least I did before I was beaten, drugged, and brought to this lovely place."

"You write for the American movies? I used to watch them as a boy. . . ."

The conversation turned trivial and Chris stopped listening. He zoned out further when the bell on the entry door rang again.

For the moment the door was open, he didn't see any of the "door sentinels" that were allegedly standing watch. Where did they go?

With no delays or questions asked, a huge wingless fairy entered the tavern. From beneath the hood of his blood-red cloak, his black beady eyes swept from left to right and stopped abruptly at their table. Chris locked glances with him, and though the fairy's eyes moved on, Chris detected an inkling of recognition—and satisfaction—in his ugly face.

"And Chris was in the military," Joe was saying. "Right, Chris?"

"What? Sorry, um, yeah. The army."

Something else caught Chris's eye and sent his blood coursing through his veins like hot lava, ready to burst through solid rock. The shifty-eyed fairy lifted his mug to his jowl with a set of fat, tattooed knuckles. Chris had seen those tattoos, back in the early dawn of what he presumed was yesterday at this point. Those hands or similar ones were threatening and mistreating his family. They were gripping the sword being held to his wife's neck!

The fairy thumped his mug on the table and threw some money down. He gave Chris one last sly glance and then strutted out of his seat. The door slammed on his way out and the ringing bell set Chris in motion.

⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Have you read Disgrace? It will give the history above some depth and plenty of heat from Scott MacRae's point of view.

It can be read before, after, or during this adventure if you're enjoying it and would like to know more.

⭐️Thank you for reading⭐️