Laddin narrowed his eyes. “And what is that grand mission, exactly?”
Feta looked like he was shocked that Laddin didn’t know. His mouth gaped open, and then a puff of mold came out before he turned to all the assembled cheeses, lifted his arms high, and began to shout. All the other True Cheeses joined in until the field rang like it was filled with wind chimes.
“Fairyland! Fairyland! Fairyland!”
Laddin looked at Bruce, who shifted his front legs as if he were shrugging. And still the cry continued until Laddin felt dizzy. He held up his hand to stop Feta, who quieted immediately and with him all the other fairies. Suddenly Laddin’s ears all but rang with the quiet.
“What about Fairyland?”
“Fairyland! Fairyland! Fairyland!”
The entire group began cheering again until Laddin clapped his hands over his ears. Bruce too dipped his head and whimpered, not that Laddin could hear it. He felt it through the press of Bruce’s wolf body against his.
Finally Feta silenced everyone and Laddin dared to drop his hands from his ears. “Is the place in danger?” He had no wish to name it aloud again.
Feta shook his head solemnly. “We are barred from the holy land, blocked by those who will not dress as cheese.”
Now he understood. “You cannot get to the holy land, and you want to go home.”
“Yes,” Feta intoned. “So we wage our war.”
“But how are they stopping you?”
Feta shook his head sadly. “We don’t know. We only know that much from the words of the prophet.” He gestured to a wedge of cheese beneath a tree. “Smoked Gouda has so said.”
Laddin blinked. Dark smoke appeared to waft off the fairy wedge of cheese.
“Maybe we can help,” he offered, and suddenly everyone took an excited step forward. “I said maybe,” he quickly clarified. “Do you remember how you got here? How did you leave the holy land?”
A low voice spoke, and Laddin didn’t have to look to know that it was Gouda. “Always here, never there,” he intoned.
Right. In short, they had no idea. “I, um, I need to do some research, then, to see if I can find you an answer—”
“Sir Bottom Air knows! He comes from the holy land. We can ride on his wind straight to Fairyland!”
Apparently, Bruce had been upgraded from Hero to Knight of the Bottom Air. “Okay, but—”
“Fairyland! Fairyland! Fairyland!”
“Stop!” Laddin snapped, his patience wearing thin. This had been a hell of a day already, and the charm of working with a bunch of cheeses was wearing off. “Look, Bruce doesn’t know anything. He’s brand-new to this—”
“Not Bruce! Sir Bottom Air!”
“Er, right. Sir Bottom Air doesn’t know his head from his, um, bottom right now. He doesn’t know how to take you back. He’s just learning….” Laddin’s voice trailed away at the stern look from Feta. Worse, he had the sinking feeling that he was the one talking out of his ass because Bruce was a werewolf, thanks to fairy fruit. And perhaps the guy knew a whole lot more about fairies than he was letting on. Laddin looked down into Bruce’s eyes. “Do you know what they’re talking about?”
The wolf’s head dipped low and he shook his head no.
“See,” he said to Fetid Feta. “He hasn’t any idea—”
“We will ride him!” the mozzarella cried. They’d been creeping closer and now abruptly jumped up on Bruce’s back. The wolf shied sideways, but there were too many cheeses there, and all of them tried to leap on his back. Mozzarella, camembert, ricotta, all sorts of cheeses that jumped, sprang, or tumbled into the air while Bruce shook himself to keep them away. They landed anyway, but with every shake, the fairies went tumbling out of his fur with more tinkling laughter.
They all thought this was a game, except Laddin knew it wasn’t. Fairies were immortal. He’d learned that in his basic training through Wulf, Inc. They could be squashed, sliced in half, even consumed, but they came back in a puff of light and laughter. Humans weren’t so lucky, and mortals often died when they participated in anything having to do with fairies. That had been drilled into them.
Laddin wished he’d paid more attention to that fifteen minutes ago.
“Sir Bottom Air says no,” Laddin declared forcefully. And before Feta could get angry, he held up his hand. “I swear we’ll look into getting you home. Sir Bottom Air and I will do what we can for you.”
Feta looked up, hope shining on his pale face. “You swear? On behalf of all pixies for the True Cheese?”
“Um… er… yeah. I swear.”
Feta hopped off the rock and came to stand right before Bruce’s eyes. “And you, Sir Bottom Air? Do you so swear?”
Bruce stared at the fairy so long without moving. He didn’t so much as blink. And when Laddin started to squeeze the wolf’s back, the animal turned to look directly at Laddin and slowly, firmly shook his head no.
Crap. “What do you mean, no? Bruce, swear to them!”
Again, a steady, firm shake of his head no.
“Sir Bottom Air does not pledge himself!” Fetid screamed. “Attack!”
Laddin cursed, and Bruce let out a woof of anger.
They had no choice now—they’d have to run for it.
So they did, as hard and fast as they could go, which for Bruce was a whole hell of a lot faster. But it didn’t help. No matter how quickly they moved, the pixie cheeses were faster. They leaped, they tumbled, and they exploded into noxious plumes of fermentation, making Laddin choke. And the moment he slowed, the string cheese bound his feet and the American cheese wrapped his hands into solid balls of yellow.
No! No! He couldn’t go through that again! But here he was tumbling to his knees, though he still had breath to bargain.
“Wait! Wait! I have pledged myself to you, right? Aren’t I enough?”
Up ahead, Bruce whirled around, his nostrils flaring but his mouth resolutely shut. The cheese near him quickly surrounded him, but they didn’t move to attack.
Meanwhile Feta bounced up
