Part 4
The League’s beautiful captor held them securely in her fists as she navigated the winding paths of the Faerie Realm. All around them was a stunning land of natural splendor—towering, ancient trees, exotic flowers unknown to human eyes, bubbling streams and mighty rivers—but the little heroes were too startled and despairing to appreciate it. Creatures of all shapes and sizes flew, scurried, or scampered out of the guard’s path. Some were as small as the League, bearing translucent wings, glowing auras, and long pointed ears. Others were half the height of a man and had skin tones of unnaturally vibrant shades. It was clear that the team was no longer in the world they knew.
“Bloody Faerieland?!” Thumbling called to his teammates. “How in blue blazes did we end up here?!”
“They say Avalon exists between our world and the Otherworld,” Tom mused. “Clearly, without the right guiding spell, we sailed to the wrong shore.”
“We’re farther from home than ever,” said Thumbelina. “Nimue will surely reach Camelot before us.”
“If we reach it at all,” Tom said ruefully, bowing his head in shame. “I’ve made a right proper mess of things, haven’t I?”
“It was as good a plan as any, monsieur,” Hop told him.
“Oi! The prisoners will remain silent!” the blonde-haired Faerie guard barked at them, squeezing her fingers tighter about the tiny folk. The League members winced and took the hint.
Eventually, the guard reached her destination, a tall, glittering crystal palace that rose majestically over the countryside. As she called to those within, the drawbridge lowered and the portcullis was raised, admitting her into the castle courtyard. Eerily lovely Faerie folk, dressed in fine silks and dazzling colors, watched her with curiosity as she carried her miniature captives past. Within moments, the guard entered the main hall of the palace.
“I wish to see the queen,” she said. The bored, thin-faced herald did not seem impressed by her or her unusual catch but set about his duty nonetheless.
“All bow for her majesty, Queen Mab of the Theena Sidhe, supreme ruler of the Twilight Realm!”
“Hey, I can understand them!” Thumbling realized. “They’re not speaking Faerie gibberish anymore.”
“I cast a spell of understanding,” the guard told him. “You should know the charges against you. Now hush up and bow to the queen!”
The assembled palace courtiers lowered their gaze in respect and the guard dropped to one knee as Queen Mab entered the chamber. Like all the people of Faerie, Mab was a creature of unsettling, inhuman beauty, but her fierce scowl and scraggly black hair had dimmed that beauty somewhat. Her ever-searching eyes were a deep violet, her fingernails long and claw-like, and her ears and cheekbones were unusually high and pointed even for one of her race. Mab sat down upon her gilded throne, flattening the folds of an ill-fitting yet elegant gown.
“And who are these strange little creatures you bring before us, Captain?” the queen asked in her raspy voice.
“Spies, your majesty,” the guard answered. “From the human realm of Britain.”
“Britain!” Mab spat derisively. “The Sidhe-folk ruled that isle long before the mortals came with their iron weapons to drive us out. Would that it were still so. What business have you here, inchlings? Does your Pendragon seek to extend his rule to Faerie as well?”
The guard at last released the League from her grasp, setting them at Queen Mab’s feet. She and several other warriors took their places on either side of the tiny captives to ensure they did not try to run.
“Your majesty,” Tom said, stepping forward. “Sir Thomas Thumb, at your service. I assure you, we are in your realm merely by chance. King Arthur does not even know we are here.”
A handsome young man with long white hair and skin a deep azure blue leaned close to the queen. “Lies and falsehoods, Mother,” he said. “No doubt the Pendragon sent them to spy on us, assuming they would be mistaken for some of our smaller subjects.”
“Well-reasoned, Oberon,” Mab agreed. “We see through their ruse easily. They have the stink of human magicks. And perhaps something more…” With terrifying speed, she bent forward and snatched up Hop in her hand.
“What are these that you wear, speck?” asked Mab, turning him over in her bony fingers. She pulled off the little man’s boots with thumb and forefinger, eyes widening with surprise as the boots expanded in size. Soon, they were large enough for the queen herself to wear.
“So that’s how those work,” Thumbling whispered. “I was wondering how a little guy like Hop could wear an ogre’s boots.”
“Seven-league boots,” Mab said accusingly. “How came you by these?”
“Zat is my business,” Hop said, dangling upside down in her grip by one leg.
“Impertinence!” the queen shrieked. “No one speaks to us in this manner! Especially not a mere inchling!” She looked as if at any moment she would rip Hop to shreds or bite off his head.
“Your majesty!” Thumbelina shouted, spreading her artificial wings and rising into the air. The courtiers assembled in the hall gasped in surprise. “I am Princess Maia Thumbelina of the Flower-Folk. Though they reside in the human realm, my people are Faerie. For my sake, I ask you to spare my companions.”
“The Flower-Folk,” Mab said thoughtfully. “Yes, we remember your tribe. Tiny simpletons who hide in gardens. But though they are Faerie, you are not.”
Her other hand shot out and caught Thumbelina in a deadly grasp. “Like the rest of this rabble, you are unnatural. A mere homunculus created by enchantment. Still…we shall spare you.” She extended the hand bearing ‘Lina toward the female guard. “Captain, place this one in my finest birdcage. I will not deprive the Flower-Folk of their princess.”
“And the others, my queen?” the lady captain inquired.
“Send them to the royal cooks,” Mab said with a sinister smile. “Have them prepared for my supper. I will show this Lord Arthur what I think of his spies!”
* * * *
“You can’t do this!” raged Thumbelina, clinging to the bars of her birdcage prison. The cage hung suspended by a wire near the headboard of the queen’s royal bed.
“We can and we shall,” Mab informed her. With a mischievous smirk, the Faerie Queen pushed the cage, causing it to swing wildly back and forth. She laughed as ‘Lina was thrown off her feet and tossed this way and that.
“Your marriage to Faerie royalty is enough to save your life. But this invasion will not be tolerated.”
“What invasion?” ‘Lina cried. “You don’t understand! We have to get back to Camelot! A man’s life may depend on it!”
“What is that to us?” said Mab. She held the cage steady and leaned close to the bars, her face filling one side entirely. “You’d best accept it, little princess. You are our toy now, to use as we see fit. One day, perhaps, we shall release you to bear the sad news of your comrades’ fate back to Arthur. Let the Pendragon know that this Realm is off limits to his cold iron and his carpenter god.”
“But until then,” the queen continued, “you are ours, little one. We own you.”
“Who’s we?” asked ‘Lina. “Are you completely insane?”
“Quite possibly,” Mab admitted. She licked her thin lips slowly and lasciviously. “But you shall learn to love us.”
Just then, a young page boy cleared his throat in the doorway. “Your majesty,” he said. “Supper is ready.”
“Ah, excellent,” Mab said with a smile. “We go now to dispatch your tiny friends, princess. Surely, they will be most delicious. And upon our return, we shall see if you can please us in other ways.”
As Mab left the bedchamber, Thumbelina sank to the floor of the cage and buried her face in her hands.
* * * *
Tom, Hop, and Thumbling found themselves on Queen Mab’s plate, lost amid massive helpings of meat, vegetables, and bread. Their hands and feet were bound and they were each glazed with a rich hollandaise sauce and sprigs of parsley. The little men could only wriggle desperately about as the queen chased them with her fork, cackling madly the whole time. As for Issun-boshi, the tiny samurai found himself floating in a jewel-encrusted wine goblet, barely able to stay above the surface.
“’Lina was right,” Thumbling said, rolling off a slice of bread as Mab’s knife descended to butter it. “Everyone is trying to eat us on this caper. What’s the deal? Do we have signs on our backs reading ‘Grade A Beef’ or something?”
“I can’t believe this is how the League of Homunculi ends,” said Tom. He wriggled away as Mab shoveled green beans longer than his whole body into her maw. “I’m sorry, my friends.”
“Well now, who shall we start with?” the queen chuckled. “Perhaps the little Gaulish chap?” She reached down and took hold of Hop, lifting him from the plate and dipping his little body in a nearby gravy boat. Soon, he was coated head to toe in the sticky brown liquid. The Faerie Queen lifted him towards her waiting lips.
“I hope you choke on me, madame,” he said defiantly.
Mab’s brows furrowed. “Just for that, we’ll do this slowly. One limb at a time until you’re nothing but a screaming, bleeding stump. That will teach you to talk back to your betters, inchling!” Her jaws opened wide and she brought Hop’s right arm close to those deadly teeth. The other thumblings turned away in horror.
But Hop’s time was not yet at hand. For at that moment, the young Prince Oberon hurried into the dining hall with an expression of alarm.
“Mother, come quick!” he shouted. “The Flower Princess—she’s gone!”
Mab looked up from her meal in annoyance. She held Hop precariously in her fingers, still intact…for now. “What do you mean gone? She’s escaped? Are we surrounded by incompetents?!”
“The cage was broken and the entire room disheveled!” Oberon said. “Almost as if someone freed her. Could the small ones have an accomplice?”
“Our room destroyed?” Mab howled. “We are most seriously displeased. Show us this effrontery at once!” Mab dropped Hop roughly into a pile of boiled cabbage. His skin was scalded by the steaming vegetable. “We shall finish with you momentarily. Don’t go anywhere.”
The queen gave a cruel laugh and placed a silver serving cover over the plate. They could hear her depart with the prince but their world was only darkness and the fragrant aromas of gourmet cooking. Steam from the meal rose around them, causing the little folk to sweat profusely and choke in the humid vapors.
They were struggling with their bonds when, suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall once more. The serving cover was lifted and their eyes stung in the sudden light. But it was not the face of Queen Mab that greeted them but another.
“Be not afraid,” the fair-haired maiden whispered, gathering the League members in her hands. “I’m here to help.” The little folk were puzzled for they did not know her. Like all Faeries, she was strikingly beautiful in an ethereal way. Her long curly hair was the color of a golden sunrise, as was the richly embroidered gown she wore. Her large blue eyes sparkled and her ears ended in a long, elegant point. She sliced through the League’s bonds with her fingernails and let them settle in her palm.
“Not that I’m complaining, but who are you, my lady?” Tom inquired.
“My name is Caelia,” she whispered, dabbing at the gravy-drenched Hop with a napkin. “I am a queen of this realm, subject to the High Queen Mab. Once, I knew a knight of your kingdom: Sir Tom ‘a Lincoln, who some claim is an illegitimate son of King Arthur.”
“A who of what now?!” Thumbling cried in surprise.
“I do not wonder that you know him not,” Caelia said. “Ours is an obscure tale and a sad one, I fear, for I have not seen Sir Tom for many years. Know at least that Camelot has allies here in the Twilight Realm. Now we must hurry, before Mab returns!”
“We thank you, Queen Caelia,” Tom Thumb said from the center of her palm. “But we cannot leave yet. ‘Lina is—”
“Right in front of you, genius.” Thumbelina had popped her head out the top of Caelia’s bodice. Though dwarfed by the larger woman’s bosom, the little princess leaned forward with poise, like the figurehead on the front of a ship. “Who do you think rescued me?”
“Forgive the familiarity, but stealth is our ally,” murmured Caelia, slipping the other little people down the front of her dress as well. They tumbled down into the bodice, landing in a heap at the base of a pair of enormous breasts.
As Caelia turned to leave, Thumbelina called out in alarm. “Wait! Where’s Issun?”
“The wine goblet!” came Tom’s muffled cry from within the Faerie’s bosom.
While Thumbelina ducked out of sight, Caelia reached for a spoon and quickly tried to fish the tiny samurai out of the golden cup. At that moment, two sets of footsteps echoed in the corridor and the voices of Mab and Oberon could be heard approaching. They were out of time.
“Forgive me, little one,” the Faerie maid whispered into the goblet. With swift, desperate movements, Caelia lifted the cup to her lips and downed the wine in two gulps. She carefully caught Issun with her tongue, pressing his miniature body against her palate. The tiny man felt the torrent of wine wash away from him and heard the deafening gurgles as it drained down her gullet. He shivered in fear, remembering only too well his journey to the belly of Morgan le Fay. She’d supped on him with wine as well. Could this Caelia person truly be trusted?
In moments, Queen Mab returned and stopped beside the newcomer in her dining hall. “Caelia,” she said with a nod, though it was clear there was no love lost between the two of them. “What do you here?”
Caelia’s heart was pounding but she maintained a dignified Faerie grace. Skillfully, she shifted Issun under her tongue and addressed Mab in a clear, calm voice. “Forgive me, my queen. The day is so warm, I sought only to refresh myself with a drink. The cook said he’d left a few extra wine glasses here in the dining hall.”
Mab eyed the empty goblet in her subject-queen’s hand and burst out laughing. “Why, Caelia, you seem to have drunk our prisoner!”
Caelia brought a hand to her cheek and gave an utterly convincing gasp of horror. “I—I what? Oh, heavens!”
“Hahahahaha! The bleeding heart Caelia devoured a helpless inchling!” Mab chortled. She reached out and patted the other woman’s belly. “We do hope he enjoys his new home.”
“Mother!” Oberon said in shock. “Don’t torture the poor woman so!”
“Oh, stars, oh, powers!” Caelia babbled, turning to hurry from the hall. “The poor little thing! I f-feel faint!”
“That’s all right, dear!” Mab called after her. “We still have three more!” Caelia rushed out of the room before Mab could lift the serving cover once again.
When they were a safe distance away, hiding in a palace corridor, Thumbelina popped back up out of Caelia’s neckline. “Quick thinking, your majesty.”
“Mab never could resist making me miserable,” the Faerie answered. “Oh, I nearly forgot!” She reached into her mouth and removed Issun from under her tongue. The samurai was soaked to the skin and shaking with fright as she held him between two fingers.
“My apologies, little warrior,” Caelia said. “Perhaps you will find this more accommodating.” She slipped him into her bodice with the rest of his teammates. “Now, I must get you all out of here. Mab will be furious, no doubt.”
Hop emerged from the dress beside ‘Lina, a look of concern on his face. “Zut alors! My seven-league boots!”
“Hop, there’s no time!” ‘Lina chided him.
“Zhey are mine by right! I will not abandon them to that queen of she-devils!”
“You mean these?” Caelia said, lifting the hem of her dress. She wore a pair of fancy, brown boots. Magic had reshaped them again, conforming to the curve of the lovely queen’s leg and adding a feminine, embroidered pattern. But they were Hop’s boots for certain.
“They were in Mab’s chambers next to Princess Thumbelina’s cage.”
“Madame, you are a wonder!” Hop exclaimed. “What, pray tell, is your opinion of…shorter men?”
Caelia smiled demurely but pushed Hop back into her dress with her fingers. ‘Lina lowered herself down after him. In the distance, they could hear Queen Mab’s shrieks of outrage. “Everyone, hold on tight,” Caelia said. “We must make haste and I fear things could get a little…bumpy in there.”
The Faerie maiden ran down the corridor at full tilt, ignoring the stares of curious courtiers and servants. Within her dress, the League was bounced and jostled by every heave of Caelia’s ample bosom. Thrown backwards, tiny Issun felt himself slipping into the fleshy chasm between those hill-like curves, but his teammates grabbed his legs and yanked him free.
“Now then,” Caelia muttered to herself. “How do these work?” Focusing her will on the seven-league boots, she wished herself far from the palace. Instantly, her speed increased to impossible levels and she became a mere blur of movement. Soon, she was invisible to the other Faeries’ sight, speeding out of Mab’s castle and over the fields and hills of the Twilight Realm.
She didn’t stop running until they were many miles from the palace. When at last she came to a halt and the League hesitantly poked their heads out of her dress, they found themselves in a forest clearing. Just ahead was a ring of standing stones taller than a grown man. Once more, the little heroes felt the hairs on their necks stand on end. The very air seemed to pulsate with power in this grove.
“This is a ‘soft place,’” Caelia explained, “an area where the veils between the worlds are thin.” She scooped her tiny friends out of her bodice and set them gently on the ground. The League looked up in awe at their beautiful savior.
“Step between those stones and you will be back in Britain once more,” she told them. The Faerie woman slipped off the seven-league boots and stood before the League in her bare feet. All of them marveled as the boots shrank back to tiny size as Hop took hold of them.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done, Queen Caelia,” Tom said, placing a hand on her big toe. “We can never repay you enough.”
“No payment is necessary,” she said. “I have ever taken joy from aiding lost souls.”
Tom looked at the ring of stones and hesitated. “I fear we will be too late. Our friend Merlin is surely doomed by now.”
“Not necessarily,” Caelia declared. “Faerie is out of phase with the mortal world. Stay but a day here and you might find that a hundred years have passed in your home or no time has passed at all.”
“Which is it to be for us?” Issun asked.
“The latter, I hope,” said Caelia. “If I can remember the spell correctly.” She muttered something in the melodious Faerie language and soon, the ring-stones began to glow and a powerful wind swept through the clearing. The little folk were nearly blown off their feet and Hop had to grip his hat tightly to his head. At last, the wind died down and the empty air between the ring-stones seemed to shimmer as if glimpsed through a wall of heat. Nervously, the League stepped between two of the stones and made for the center.
“Come with us,” said Thumbling, turning back to Caelia. “Ol’ Mab’s on the rampage. She’ll try to kill you for sure!”
The maiden shook her head sadly. “Alas, I cannot. A Fae would not survive long in a world of iron and sunlight. Besides, this is my home. Some of us live in hope for the day Mab’s reign ends and a more just ruler sits upon the throne.”
“Good luck to you, Caelia,” Thumbelina said, stepping between the stones.
“And to you,” the Faerie called after her. “If you meet my Sir Tom ‘a Lincoln…remember me to him.”
Waving farewell to their benefactor, the League members walked cautiously to the center of the ring-stones and were gone.
To be continued...
Giantess World
