But still she felt the elf’s magic reaching out for her, like the creep of a sunrise . . .
She screamed, ‘You will not put your glamour on me, elf!’ And the words of the shepherd’s count that Granny Aching had used were in her mind. ‘Yan tan tethera,’ she chanted, over and over, the singing of the words helping her mind become her own again.
It worked. Nightshade began to tone herself down, and now she looked like a farm girl, a dairymaid. She had conjured up a dairymaid’s dress for herself, though one that no real dairymaid would ever wear, given that it was adorned with little ribbons and bows, a dainty little slipper-clad foot peeking out from beneath the hem. As a pretty straw bonnet took shape, Tiffany recoiled – the elf had summoned up an echo of the costume she knew very well, one worn by a china shepherdess she had once given to her granny. And as she remembered Granny Aching she became incredibly angry. How dare this elf try this on her, here, on her very turf!
‘I demand—’ Nightshade tried, and then she saw Tiffany’s expression. ‘I would hope . . .’
A country girl! The elvish has begun to leave the building, Tiffany thought with delight. But she still folded her arms and glared at the elf. ‘I’ve helped you,’ she said, ‘but I am also busy helping other people – people who would have a better life if you weren’t here.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘Especially if your people cause mischief, do things like spoiling our beer. Yes, I know about that, and I know you, elf, and I know what you want. You want your kingdom back, don’t you, Nightshade?’
There was a growl from the assembled Feegles, and Big Yan said hopefully, ‘Can we nae throw it back there, mistress?’
‘Aye,’ said Rob. ‘Be rid o’ yon pest.’
‘Well, Rob,’ said Tiffany, ‘I am sorry to tell ye, there are some folks who think Feegles are a pest.’
Big Yan went silent, then said slowly, ‘Weel, we may be pests, ye ken, but a puir bairn has nae reason tae dread Feegles.’ He rose to his full height of seven inches – Big Yan was very tall for a Feegle, with the scars on his forehead typical of the taller-than-average, who can find doorways somewhat challenging – and loomed over the elf from the rafters.
Tiffany ignored him, turning back to Nightshade. ‘Am I right?’ she demanded. ‘You want to return to Fairyland? What do you say?’
Cunning flickered across Nightshade’s sharp little face. ‘We are like bees,’ she said at last. ‘The Queen has all the power . . . until she gets older, and then a new queen kills her to take the hive.’ A wave of anger was suddenly visible. ‘Peaseblossom,’ she hissed. ‘He does not believe that the world has changed. It was he who threw me from my people.’ A contemptuous sneer crossed her lips. ‘He, who is so powerful he can spoil beer. When we could once destroy worlds . . .’
‘I could give you some help with your little friend Peaseblossom,’ Tiffany said slowly. ‘I would settle for you as Queen of the Elves again if you could make all the elves go back once more to their own land and stay there. But if you and your race should come here for the purpose of making humans your slaves, well, you may think you have seen me angry, but then you will know the real meaning of the word rage.’
As she said that everything about her flickered in fire. And she remembered facing the Queen before. Land under wave. Knowing where she had come from, where she was going. And that she could no longer be fooled. Knowing that no matter how many people dreamed, invited the elves to come into the world, she would be there, awake, holding firm.
‘If you break your vow, the last things you will see are Thunder and Lightning,’ she threatened. ‘Thunder and Lightning in your head and you will die of the thunder. That is a promise, elf.’
From the look of terror that flickered across Nightshade’s face, Tiffany knew that the elf understood.
She brought Nightshade some porridge in the morning.
The elf looked up at Tiffany as she took the bowl, and said, ‘You could have killed me yesterday . . . I’d have killed me. Why didn’t you? You know I am an elf, and we are merciless.’
‘Yes,’ said Tiffany, ‘but we are human, and we do know mercy. I also know I’m a witch, and I’m doing my job.’