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“You know, when I said I wanted a break from you two bickering,” I said, “I didn’t mean spending my weekend off crawling through miles of thorns in a fairy forest.” I yanked my leg out from the latest gap we were pushing through, and winced as my cheap jeans split open from calf to hem.
“We hardly bicker,” Galmaufryn said. “Stimulating discussion is the bread and butter of a true scholar.” He sniffed, and started unrolling the map made from half a dozen sheets of printer paper taped together.
“And true scholars, obviously, are more important than knuckleheads who swing a sword?” Sir Madrigan hissed from ahead. He made a violent gesture with the finest pruning shears Konvenience Korner had to offer ($19.99 for a two-pack) to cut us a way out of this thorny cavern.
I let them argue. I had other things on my mind. Like what we were going to do when we found the Elf encampment. How we were going to free Lily...
Alissa had sent word a couple of days ago about the Elves moving their prisoners. Princess Morningpetal had found out from some of her pixie rangers that... Well, I admit I’d been paying more attention to her eyes in the scrying glass than her words. But Sir Madrigan had sketched a map, and Galmaufryn managed to open a portal through my retired neighbour’s rose bed, with a heading and a deadline.
That’s what I should have been worrying about. I was, instead, worrying about the magic bracelet.
After the night I’d met Alissa, we’d both mostly forgotten about it. It didn’t work outside night-shift at the Korner, and the one time we’d gone into Atrania it had been a rush. This time, since we’d planned this expedition, I put it on as we crawled down the rabbit hole.
After a couple weeks on hormones, and a month of growing my hair out, I still looked nothing like I wished I did. And the bracelet, through my phone camera, did. It made me look like I would’ve, if I’d been born a girl all along. Luscious long hair, a smooth face, narrow shoulders, and a bust that wouldn’t quit. But for some reason, seeing the illusion that I’d have to give up as soon as we got home, it made my heart ache and my eyes water.
And yet, I wore it. The pink, white and blue stones gleamed, as I hefted my backpack (pink, $12.00, with zips that kept sticking), almost seeming to smirk at me as we crawled.
“Milady?”
I shook my head, and realised Galmaufryn had been trying to get my attention. “Sorry. What’s up?”
After a thoughtful pause, he said, “We are at a crossroads, milady.” He turned and pointed ahead, to the left of a tree as big around as my flat, at least. “To the left of this sky-oak is the Restless Rill—the shortest path, as a fairy flies, but crossing the gorge could be perilous. To the right, the path leads through the Sundover Glade, over the Bone Tower Bridge, and past the Marble Falls before we reach the rendezvous. A more circuitous route, and slower, but more sure.”
I knuckled my sweating brow. The weight of decision-making was pressing down on me. But we were here for a purpose. I tried to think of Lily, trapped by the Elves for weeks now, and imagined what she would do in my place.
“Left, to the gorge. Let’s be bold.”
Sir Madrigan seemed quite happy with this answer, and led us left. The thorn thickets died away first, and then the trees started to thin out: first, fewer sky-oaks; then the elder birches and elms gave way to sparse hawthorn and willow. The ground grew rougher as it sloped downards. I kept having to awkwardly clamber over ridges that the rats could scramble and hop over with ease. At one point, I slipped and got caught with my legs either side of a rock. My mind immediately told me how much it would’ve hurt if I wasn’t wearing the bracelet, if my body had its real and proper shape, and I hated myself for that first thought.
I swear I heard something like distant laughter, but neither of the others seemed to hear, so I said nothing.
The gorge announced itself with a clatter of pebbles falling. The ground in front of me fell away steeply, hidden behind another of the ridges. The cliff between me and the stream below probably wasn’t exactly sheer, but I felt like I’d need survey equipment to determine the exact angle. It was at least twenty metres from here to the closest thing to flat ground on the other side.
Sir Madrigan grabbed hold of the root of a gnarled willow, and leaned out as much as his little rat arms allowed. “’Twill be a perilous climb down, milady.” He looked askance at his brother. “Unless the mighty sorcerer has a helpful spell on him?”
“What, you think I have bridge spells to spare?” Galmaufryn snapped. He wrinkled his nose heatedly. “I do have a simple flying spell, but only one...”
As soon as I heard Sir Madrigan’s argumentative tone, I looked away. It wasn’t the bickering so much, but the fact that they kept arguing about what kind of ratly masculinity was best. Sword or stylus, shield or scroll... Somehow, even that was pricking at the edges of my brain.
We were aiming to continue right-ish once we crossed. But as I glanced back to the left, where the thorn thicket sprawled right up to the edge of the gorge, I thought I saw—
“A bridge! Back there!”
That cut the latest bout of arguing off.
When we got closer, I saw it was made of thorn branches and vines—grown directly out of the thicket. It hung down a few metres into the gorge, but didn’t swing in the breeze like a real rope bridge would. Halfway across there was some kind of archway, like a garden trellis or a cage. In it hung a lantern gleaming with green—not the acid green of the Elves, but a rich leafy green. But it pulsed in a way that made me uncomfortable.
My wrist watch ($23.95) didn’t think we had time to be choosy. “Let’s go, boys.” I hefted the cheap pink backpack, for the feel of the thing, and stepped out onto the bridge.
It made no noise, no creaking. It was rock solid. Sir Madrigan made no move to push ahead of me and go first, so I swallowed my trepidation & ploughed ahead. It must be fine if neither of the boys were worried.
I couldn’t keep my eye off the lantern. It did nothing to illuminate the gorge—the trees on either side were sparse enough & far enough back that they didn’t block out the sun. But the lantern was still the brightest thing in sight. It was looking at me. Following me as I went.
—flash—
“Identify yourself, traveller.”
I was floating in an endless green void. Sitting cross-legged in front of me was a small, wizened figure; its skin was like thorn bark. It raised a large head to look at me with eyes like huge, dark wells.
“I’m Lady Brooke Marshall...Purveyor of the Konvenience Korner,” I said haltingly. It looked like I’d been plucked straight from the bridge. I still had my backpack, that damned bracelet, and dried blood on my jeans.
The creature’s eyes bruned with rich emerald fire. “Identify yourself!”
My head was pounding, and sweat kept dripping down across my eyes. This fucking fairy bullshit...
“I’m the fiancée of Princess Alissatelle of Faerdham Castle,” I said. “A signatory of the Oak Queen’s accords. Who are you?”
The creature unfolded itself, and suddenly it was huge. A giant, a dozen metres tall, all muscles and thorny sinew. Fists as big as me were clenched like coiled springs. Its massive face, finally proportional to the rest of the body, leaned close.
“I am Alogant, child of Lubmhor the Cragsoul.” Alogant spoke as a tempest off the sea. “I bear a sliver of the Dreaming Empress at my heart. And I ask you again, child of the dry world, to stop hiding behind artifice & names, and identify yourself!”
The voice and the fire ripped through me, and I felt naked. Slowly, reluctantly, I undid the clasp of the bracelet. My body rippled and I was back to my lumpy, broad old self.
“My name is Brooke,” I said in a small voice, “I’m trans, and I’m afraid I can’t be good enough. Pretty enough, smart enough, brave enough. I don’t know how I’m going to rescue Lily, let alone the other prisoners. And I hate hate hate my body, so much; I wear the bracelet to cover it up, even though it makes me feel worse.” Tears joined the sweat running down my face as I unwillingly took a mental tour of my body, focusing on all my least favourite parts.
Alogant breathed deeply, like it had just cracked open a loaf of bread right out of the oven. “So much pain,” it whispered. “Delightful.” In a blink, it was back to its small, wizened form. The giant seemed to surround it like an shadow, an aura. “Do you wish my aid?”
I almost said yes straight away. But then I remembered: fairy bullshit. “What will it cost?”
“More pain.”
I swallowed. More...? But I didn’t have time to think about it. The rendezvous was only a quarter hour away, and the pixie rangers’ distraction wouldn’t last for long.
For Alissa, then. For Lily. I nodded. “Do it.”
The green light went out, and I was floating in darkness. Alogant’s voice came from far off. “Your heart, for bravery.” The bracelet appeared in front of me; one stone had changed to emerald. “The gallant’s skill with a blade. And the sorcerer’s magic and raw cunning.” Two more went green. “Three souls, melded to mine, will be enough power to wipe away this camp of Elves.”
The bracelet floated toward me, and I grabbed it. Sunlight returned. I was standing in the middle of the bridge, clutching the bracelet. Sir Madrigan and Galmaufryn jogged past me, and stopped when they saw I had.
“Don’t put the bracelet on until you’re there,” whispered Alogant. “It won’t last for long.”
I strode on. “The fairy of the bridge gave me something. This might suck, but it’ll give us a fighting chance.”
“Milady?” Sir Madrigan sounded apprehensive.
“What did it want in trade?” Galmaufryn asked. We stepped onto the springy turf on the far side.
“My pain. I’ve got plenty of it to spare.” I shoved the bracelet in the side pocket of my backpack (since the cheap jeans didn’t even have pockets!) and set off up the slope at a run. I winced, because the jeans were not as forgiving when I had my original anatomy squeezed up in there; but I forced the greasy feeling down. Just like I’d been doing every day for longer than I was ever conscious of it.
The woods gave way to low thickets. We crawled through the ferns and underbrush. Galmaufryn had some kind of compass that spotted Elf guards on patrol before we saw or heard them, and Sir Madrigan knew how to hide from them. As my clock ticked down to the rendezvous time, we made it to the crest of a ridge that overlooked the hollow where the Elves had made their camp.
Their extensive, sprawling camp. Filled with row after row of ragged tents, all surrounding some kind of prefab iron tower. To the near side of the tower, between patrols of Elves of all shapes & sizes with their heavy armour and weapons, was a large pen filled with huddling figures.
“Captain Benedis said a dozen at most,” Galmaufryn whispered. I counted at least a dozen species amongst the Elf forces.
Sir Madrigan was looking across the camp with his spyglass. “That standing stone over there, that’s where Her Highness was going to open the gate through the Unlight.” The stone was on the edge of the hollow, but practically in the middle of the camp. The patrols seemed at their thickest there.
“Alissa’s going to be surrounded!” I cried. The plan was for her to make a hit-and-run raid with a small company of knights and rangers, while we slipped in and got Lily and the others loose. But there was nowhere to run. And the prisoners in that pen numbered at least two dozen: there was no way in hell that we could slip them out.
A hunting horn sounded from my phone. The signal. The standing stone was starting to glow.
Now is the time, whispered Alogant. I pulled the bracelet out and slipped it around my wrist. I got ready to do up the clasp.
“Boys, you need to touch this when I do it up.”
“What will it do?” Galmaufryn asked. He peered intently at the nearest gem. Its green shade seemed to shift and shimmer.
“Something helpful,” I said. “But get that flying spell ready, I think it’ll come in handy.”
“For Her Highness,” Sir Madrigan said. He eagerly put a paw on one gem. Galmaufryn touched another one, reluctantly, but hesitating only a moment. In the other paw he was holding a glowing glyph.
I did up the clasp.
Green light. A stretching sensation.
My perspective shifted: I was towering over the camp, as if from a fourth-storey window made from emerald. A thousand thorns bit into every inch of my skin, and I was aware of every single one of them: they were pricking my arms, my flat chest, between my legs, my tail, my snout...
We stretched our legs. The Thornblade materialised in our hands, a familiar weight. The wings of a dove grew from our back, the only parts free of the thorns that were my home and prison.
Such freedom as I had not felt in a hundred years; I savoured it. And I felt the gnawing fear that my sword-skill would not be enough, would never be enough, to keep her safe. And I tried to calculate whether the flying spell—a single cantrip—would hold up to this mass. And I felt the hideous breadth and brawn of this body, and wondered how long before this feeling went away.
I rallied us. With four souls in one body, we could push it all—the fear, the dysphoria, the guilt—away, and focus on one thing.
On saving my girls.
I leapt, and we soared.
Cries of alarm sounded from the ground. Good. Let these vermin know fear. We reached the tower, no taller than we, and sliced it in half with a single draw cut, angled away from the prison pen. As the top half thundered to the ground, we were already leaping again. A sorcerer flung lightning, and we brushed it off with nary a care.
Elves were gathering around the standing stone. We made a simple thrust to destroy their captain, a grey-skinned beetle-giant wearing the Elfstone as a crest. Then a broad slash to cut down half the defending force. Moves I had practiced a thousand times in the yard of Faerdham Castle, magnified a hundred-fold. At a wave of our hand, I used my father’s power to grow a thick wall of thorns, surrounding the stone just enough to allow the princess’ force a safe beachhead.
As the Unlight Gate opened, we leapt again. We struck here, and we struck there, cutting down Elves like wheat at the harvest. I could feel my father’s pride in my heart, even as the Empress frowned in her Dreaming. I was not supposed to be free, not yet. But She could feel my/our love for Alissa and Lily, and allowed it.
Sirens shrilled in the air. Nightgates opened all across the hollow, and the Elves started pouring away. The camp was deflating. We knelt and broke the chains holding the prisoners. They all looked up at us, and shied away. Good. They should fear—
We saw the dull horror on Lily’s face, and it pierced me to the core. I was supposed to be protecting her. Everything buzzed, and suddenly we saw everything four times, overlaid like a broken mirror.
No! I could not allow it so soon, could not go back to that lantern—
We can petition the Dreaming Empress, thought one of the rats. Galmaufryn, the wizard-scholar. She may grant clemency for your heroism here.
‘Twas a showing worthy of any knight of the Realm, thought the other, the gallant-at-arms. Pride was leaking from that corner of our heart.
No, thought Alogant. The bravery was all of Brooke. She drove us; I was just the vessel.
The thorns withdrew and unravelled. I collapsed to the muddy ground, exhaustion pulling me like gravity. Sir Madrigan and Galmaufryn lay beside me. The thorns had ripped my clothes to shreds, and I was practically naked, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
“Brookie??” A familiar face framed in limp blonde curls appeared above me. “Brookie, babe, did you just rescue all of us?” A strange pair of hands was lifting me into a sitting position—Gnomish hands, from the feel.
I looked at Brooke, at her bruised and dirty face. And the other haunted faces all staring at me, at Sir Madrigan and Galmaufryn. At last I nodded. “I wasn’t supposed to be... I mean, I didn’t... Yeah, I guess.”
Lily leaned in and planted a massive kiss on my forehead. That woke me up. As did the sound of hooves arriving en masse. The Gnome boy helped me to my feet as Alissa dismounted and ran up to us. She grabbed me tight, like she was planning to hold on for a hundred years. Then she grabbed Lily and pulled her in too.
“What was that?” Alissa demanded. “Was that you? How?”
“It was the three of us,” I said, gesturing to the boys. Sir Madrigan was leaning heavily on his sword; Galmaufryn was kneeling awkwardly and swaying slightly. “And a fairy. It used some kind of thaumogenic magnification effect to—” I cut off as I heard the words coming out of my mouth. Why did I know what all of that meant?
I glanced at Galmaufryn, who looked beadily back at me. Speaking to Alissa, he said, “Our souls were merged as one. It will have consequences, I suspect.”
While Alissa went back to princessing, rangers helped the three of us and the rescuees onto a pair of crowded wagons. Sir Madrigan demanded that Galmaufryn explain what he was missing.
Galmaufryn sighed. “Our souls were stirred together like soup. And the decombination was...not as precise as it could have been.”
“Explain more, brother.”
Over the rats’ heads, Lily and I caught each others’ eyes. I think we’d figured it out already.
Galmaufryn sighed. “I suspect that ‘brother’ may no longer be accurate. As Lady Brooke retained some of my knowledge of arcane theory, I have retained some trace of her— What do you call it?”
“Gender dysphoria, babe,” Lily said over me.
Galmaufryn closed their eyes and sighed. “Such a trace may not have affected you, dear brother. But I have, for some time, felt...insecure, in a way you have not. I have crossed a threshold that may not be uncrossed.”
Sir Madrigan stared at Galmaufryn, then glanced between Lily and me. At last he opened his arms, and Galmaufryn fell into them. “Well, then, sister? Sibling? We will need to find a new topic of stimulating discussion.”
The return journey was to be the long way round, to King Zephyr’s Crystal Palace. While Sir Madrigan sat talking with his new sister—name still TBD—Lily predicatably started grilling me about the ring on my finger. She checked it out from every conceivable angle, and asked me to tell her the story of the proposal approximately a bazillion times. I thought there was, perhaps, a faint edge to her smile; but I was exhausted, and she’d spent weeks in some terrible Elf prison. None of us had asked her for details, and she hadn’t volunteered any.
Once we reached the Palace, the evening passed in a blur of food and baths, and at last I was able to collapse onto a bed made from cloud fluff. I was back with Alissa (for the time being), and Lily was back with us. The three of us talked long into the night, about my whole Voltron/Evangelion thing, about Galmaufryn’s revelation, about the proposal and almost every topic but the war with the Elves. None of us knew what would be coming next.
But we lost ourselves in the cozy sleep-over atmosphere, and eventually drifted off together on the massive bed, safe and comfortable, piled together like we hadn’t a care in the world.