A piece of the penultimate story in Fairyfall. Let me know what you think, as always. 🙂
Help me, Brother Fox.
He sat up in the High King’s great cupboard, into stifling heat. What is it?
Oh, help me, help me! The Mountain sent him a feeling of indigestion; She rumbled with discontent, maybe a little fear.
All right. I’m coming. He rolled to the edge of the cupboard, over the furs. Usually the bed felt pleasant, no matter the temper of Fimberevell, but if She was heating it past the spells that kept it cool…
He sighed. She must be struggling with another potential eruption, a bad one this time. He’d have no more sleep tonight. Instead he would go deep beneath the Palace, farther below than even the servants’ tunnel, to the tiny chamber that was the Fimbetamur’s heart. Down there, it sweltered, and fine, glowing runes covered every surface, even the ceiling and floor, all crabbed together and tangled as the High King with the Mountain. Bits of the spell were seared into the soles of his feet, the memories of time after time he’d been down there: to love Her, to console Her, and to gentle Her when She was restive. He opened his cabinet, and the alarm bell near the shore began to ring, urgently bursting the nighttime quiet.
A moment, love, no more, he assured Fimberevell. Things moved slow and ponderously deep beneath the earth, at least until they didn’t. He judged he’d have time to get to the place She liked him best to be: that little chamber in the depths.
Aloud, he cried, “To arms!”