An Unseelie Court

The musician's hands froze and all conversation stopped when Mab called out. "Who was that?"

No one replied.

"Someone yawned. I heard it distinctly. Who is it that I failed to entertain? Who was pulled into boredom during Mab's soiree?"

The Grand Vizier from the Land of the Eastern Sands turned his unblinking yellow eyes towards the tall white woman next to him. He'd been an emissary to Mab's court for so long that he feared his home empire had long ago crumbled and had been replaced. He knew that the best thing for all involved was to find someone to receive Mab's condemnation. He slowly lifted a green scaled hand and pointed at the woman.

The Mistress of Dreams tilted her head in his direction and then waved at the woman. "Fertilizer."

Guards wearing uniforms of dark red rushed forward, grabbed the woman and pulled her screaming towards one of the trees. As they threw her towards the trunk, limbs creaked down and held her in place. With a cracking and snapping sound, the bark seemed to part and she was slowly pulled into the glistening gaping maw of the tree. The black buds growing from the limbs began to leak a red ichor. Her screams lessened as the bark resealed and the tree grew a more verdant shade of green.

The cold voice from the throne spoke again. "I've despised her for millennia."

Everyone immediately tried to find someone who they could tell what a lovely, lovely time they were having. Mab arched an eyebrow and the musicians again began to play their atonal compositions.

An almost-man in waistcoat, tails and the oversized head of a parrot stopped pecking his beak into his wide glass of wine and turned his head towards the odd clacking noise. It was incongruent, discordant and rude, lacking the natural elegance of all of Mab's guests. A human woman strode into the hall, looked to and fro, saw the throne and one side of her lip lifted in a snarl. He wasn't an expert on such things, but she looked old, a novelty he wasn't accustomed to. Her crude boots were responsible for the hideous noise.

With a flick of her wrist, the woman snapped open an ornate wooden box and retrieved something he didn't recognize. A piece of metal, it glowed with blue runes and somehow, it was offensive. He shuddered, not knowing why. A seneschal near the woman stepped forward and without looking at him, she struck him in the face with the back of her hand. Lights flared from her rings as he was struck and he flew backward, landing on the floor.

The crowd parted, leaving a large gap between the woman and the throne. Mab's Champion and his cohorts hurriedly filed in to form a line in front of their mistress.

With a decidedly unmelodious voice, the human spoke, directing her words to the Dark Mistress of this realm. "Where are they?"

Mab and her throne grew, and the stars grew dim. "You presume to..."

"Where the fuck are my GRANDCHILDREN?"

Most in the hall scattered, anticipating unnamed horrors to descend upon anyone in this human's vicinity. No one raised their voice to Mab, no one.

Looking down from her throne, rage flowed across Mab's beautiful face. "You... you shaved ape. I am Mab, Destroyer of Minds, Mother of Nightmares, Whisperer of Dreams, how DARE you interrupt my Court? I wore the stars as jewels before your kind climbed from the muck." The winds picked up, the trees moaned and the Champion marched forward. Mab continued. "Welcome to your death, you decrepit crone."

Cynthia pointed the gun at the man and fired. The startling noise prompted panicked voices of guests to air their fear and decry the lack of decorum. The air between Cynthia and the Champion seemed to warp and shimmer and a blue light streamed behind the bullet. With preternatural speed, the man drew a black sword and sliced towards the bullet. The projectile hit the weapon, split it in two and continued into and through his armor.

Looking down at the smoking hole in his chest, the Champion looked up at Cynthia in confusion and then to Mab. Falling to his knees, he raised his hand to his chest and fell forward.

Cynthia slowly moved her gaze from the corpse to the throne. "You've fucked with the wrong old lady. Where ARE THEY?"

Mab's voice grew more resonant and there was an echo as she slowly, deliberately spoke. Each word distinct, guests shrunk away from her dark majesty as if her tone itself was a palpable weapon. "They are mine, you miserable hag. You could kill every member of my court and I would have to spend centuries replacing them, and I would still never give up my treasures. I'd sooner bathe in the blood of everyone here. But that's not necessary. Your trinkets are a flame compared to the sun that is Mab. For your audacity, you shall live in infinite torment."

"Will I? I've been to the center of creation more than once. I've confronted ancient evils, changed them and had them change me. I've helped kill mad occultists and parasites from beyond my reality. I've traveled through time and put a bullet in the eye of a Nephilim. You think you can take me down? Bring it, bitch."

Arching an eyebrow, Mab glared at her, reassessing this human. "Go. To. Sleep."

Cynthia felt the presence in her mind, similar to what she had experienced with the parasitic entity to which she helped put an end. Her hold on her sanity was much more tenuous after her experiences, but she was infinitely stronger. She pushed back. "No."

Mab's glare turned into a grimace as she reached to the side of the throne and seemed to pull forth some glittering gray sand. Tossing it into the air, she twirled her red-tipped finger in a circle and pointed towards Cynthia. The sand flew through the air in a thin line, formed a circle around the woman and settled to the ground. There was a glowing dark red pulsing in the sand as runes took form.

"Powerful as you may be for an ape, there you shall remain, stuck in your little circle for eternity. This is your new home, crone. You will never find those children."

Nervous applause burst forth from the partiers.

Cynthia knew the rituals and the Ancient Accords. She had utilized them on her last trip to the Dreamworld. Squatting, she reached into an exterior pocket of her coat, pulled out two photographs and two plastic bags. She carefully placed a photo on the ground and a bag on top of it, then repeated the process. She opened the bags, allowing the fur to mix with the air and pulled some dog biscuits from her other pocket. She then reached into an interior pocket and pulled out a round, brightly colored red and green tin.

"You may be right. I might not be able to find the children. Thankfully, others can." She opened the tin. "Chocolate chip cookies, oatmeal raisin cookies, sugar cookies, and two carrots. I call upon the Man of the North and ask him to open the Door. I beseech the Bearded Gifter and ask him to check his lists. Part the veil, if the children are Good." She placed three biscuits on each photo. "Dink, Buttercup, William and Cynthia need you."

There was a distant sound of bells ringing as a cold wind blew through the court. Mab flinched and her retinue pulled back once again. A cracking sound preceded a feeling of pressure being released and two huge, fearsome dogs appeared next to Cynthia, one to her left, one to her right. Each stood at least five feet high while still on all four legs and they had a light blue current that constantly streamed down their bodies, from muzzle to tail.

Finally standing, Mab looked down at the display. "You bring me more treasures. They are stuck in your prison with you, simpleton. I will prod and goad them till they strip the flesh from your bones."

Without pulling her gaze from her adversary, Cynthia leaned down, an arm around each dog. Whispering in Dink's ear, she spoke. "Find William. Find Cynthia. Save the children." Shifting her head, but still looking at Mab, she whispered in Buttercup's ear. "Attack those that hurt the children."

Taking a step forward, Cynthia addressed the Mistress of Dreams. "Did you think my boots were just noisy?" Stretching out her foot, she dragged the iron-shod and glyph covered sole across the sand. Blue sparks flew from the ground, the red glow grew brighter, flared and then petered out. The enchantment went dark, the dogs flew from the circle, Cynthia stepped from her prison and lifted her pistol.

If he could articulate his feelings, Dink would express sadness for those without purpose. He knew why he existed, why he was born and what drove him. Dink was a creature of love, loyalty and protection. When he was a puppy, he followed Finn everywhere. Finn was his Good Boy, he belonged to Dink and he was close pack. They were inseparable and as Finn's pack grew, Dink adopted each member as his own.

When Finn's pup, William, was born, things changed. William became Dink's Best Boy. He'd guide and protect William, keeping him from the lapping water in the back of the pack home, stopping him from touching the hot metal in the kitchen and making sure the persistent mailman never made his way past the porch.

When the Bad Boy came to hurt William, Dink attacked. They fought and fought and fought. Wounded, the Bad Boy fled to the sea and Dink lay on the grass, smelling his own blood. Jennifer brought William to Dink and he was safe. Best Boy was safe.

Years went by and Dink watched over his pack. Countless times each day he would stop, listen and sniff the air. Pack safe? Pups safe? No garbagemen? No mailmen? No Bad Boys? He'd go to the pups and check. William safe? Cynthia safe? Dink would snuffle and go back to his adventures, digging sand and barking at birds.

On a cold night when all of the pack was at their home, Dink realized he was different somehow. Surface Dink wasn't real Dink. A threat arrived and it stalked the pups. This wasn't Bad Boy, this was Evil. Still alert and fast and mighty, Dink became More in the face of Evil. With an intensity that rivaled his love for the pups, Dink suddenly understood a new reason for his existence.

Dink would destroy Evil.

He remembered his first days in the mountains of Tibet. The smells of his pack, the tolling of the bells and the humans with their incense. Some deep, atavistic part of Dink knew then what he was and now he remembered. True Evil threatened his pack, threatened William, threatened Cynthia. He became who he was meant to be.

He heard Cynthia's call and smelled the Evil. Dink became More of who he was, found his strength and ran to the pups. Evil stood by Cynthia, looming, reaching and in the corner lay Best Boy. Evil hurt William. Evil HURT William. Launching himself through the air, Dink pushed Evil from Cynthia.

He bit, tore and mauled Evil. Pulling with his fierce teeth, Dink shook Evil, ripped Evil and gave Evil no quarter. When he was done, the Evil known as Krampus existed no more.

Dink went to William and lay by his side. Best Boy safe? Best Boy hurt? William ran his paws over where Dink was struck and they were together until Daisy of the pack came.

Buttercup arrived soon after and joined the pack. She was like Dink. Cynthia was her Best Girl and Buttercup watched the pack, protected the pack and yelled at the mailman. Buttercup was a pup and Dink showed her the ways. Keep out birds. Keep out garbagemen. Look sad and get treats from Jennifer. Always, always, always protect pack. Stay by pups. Check on pups. Keep Cynthia safe.

Time went by and Dink slowed. Things changed and he didn't understand. Buttercup protected and Dink slept more often. Bones and muscles that were once so strong now ached and his vision that always saw threats was dimmed. Dink spent more time with his first Best Boy, laying near Finn, pushing his muzzle under Finn's paw, waiting for pettings.

There was a time of sadness for the pack and they lost Marisol. William left. William was too young to leave. There was danger to William. Once again, Dink protected. He tracked Best Boy far, far, far. He found him surrounded by Bad Boys. He was on the ground, Bad Boys had hurt William. No more pain, no more slow, no more aches. Rage. Dink yelled at Bad Boys and attacked.

Bad Boys gone or stopped. Pain came back. Leg didn't work. Pack comes. Daisy and Jennifer and Tommy help Dink. William safe? Best Boy safe?

William came back to the pack and Dink spent more time by the fire, sleeping, and dreaming of the old times. The aches grew and never faded. Time went by and Buttercup protected pack. There were many pettings and the pack brought treats to Dink. They brought love and sadness and were saying a slow goodbye to Dink. He wanted to tell them that it was all right. He had loved, he had protected. He had his Best Boys, Finn and William.

Dink lay by the fire and lifted his head. There were no Bad Boys, no Evil, but something was wrong. He heard Buttercup pacing back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. A voice called his name. It was the first Good Girl, the one who brought him to Finn. He hadn't heard her voice in so long. She whispered and called and her voice washed over him, pulling Dink. Danger, Dink. Danger to pups. Come, Dink. Pups need Dink.

Rising, Dink stood tall and strong. He was Dink again and he was mighty. Looking down, he saw his body and then he was gone.

He was by the woman and Buttercup was there. The stench of Evil was everywhere and Dink howled. Energy flew through Dink and he shifted his gaze. So much Evil. Creature after creature, all tainted, and in the center stood It. She was the Evil that corrupted the rest. Dink would destroy them all. They would fear Dink and fall before Dink. He was the Protector and Destroyer of Evil.

The woman leaned down and whispered. Find William. Find Cynthia. Protect the pups. He saw Buttercup staring at the Evil, growling her anger. Dink would find pups.

Stepping forward, the woman removed a barrier that wouldn't have stopped Dink. He leapt forward and ran, ran, ran. He heard Buttercup howl her rage and the screams of the creatures. Dink knew where the pups were.

Dink coming, pups. Dink coming.

After the debacle with the Boy, Mab promoted more of her retinue to the ranks of knight and added them to her personal guard. Her Champion lay dead at the hands of the crone and the Buttercup creature who kept staring at her as it tore through her men. The growls and howls mixed with the screaming and pleas from her retinue. The very trees seemed to shrink back as the beast stalked her prey.

At a glance, Cynthia could see exactly how many feet someone was from her. There was never a guess, never an estimate. She knew with certainty at all times. Spending time at a range with a similar gun to what she now wielded, she was able to cement in her mind how bullets arched, how they fell, and how they were impacted by weather. Her gift for numbers, granted by her trips to the place between times, made her an almost instinctual marksman. She never missed.

The court was bedlam. Cynthia alternated every other shot. One at Mab, the next at one of the few creatures not wearing her colors of dark red. Mab was never where she appeared to be, but dignitaries from other principalities fell like kindling before an axe. With the death of each, Mab saw fragile relationships become imperiled. She was a Queen and her realm was constantly being prodded, tested and challenged. Agreements with other monarchs ensured sovereignty and safe flanks from which she could launch her own machinations. This woman was threatening the safety of everything Mab had built.

Power was a resource and Mab rarely expended hers. This, however, was an impossibility. These creatures were doing more damage than any had since time immemorial. She summoned darkness, she called upon the stuff of dreams and drew her agency close. It was time to go to war.

Pups there! Dink smells, Dink knows. Evil blocks Dink? No, Evil! Die Evil!

Seeing a way to climb the social ladder of Mab's court, overly brave or completely idiotic attendees drew their weapons and tried to slay the marauding creature. As if he were a bull being prepared for a matador, they tried to bleed Dink and step out of his way.

He left their corpses strewn in his wake.

Arriving at a wall, Dink's hackles rose. This is where the pups were. The same new sense that told him who the Evil was, told him where the children were hidden. Dink began pawing at the rock-hewn barrier. Blue sparks flew from his paws and holes opening to nothing appeared. When a hole was large enough, he bounded through. They were here. Best Boy and Best Girl.

Dink here, pups. Up! Up! Come with Dink! Run, run, run!

They stood near each other, unmoving. Stepping forward one step at a time, a low dark growl slowly built from somewhere deep inside Dink. Stopping, he slowly turned his neck and looked up. Evil waited patiently, ready to pounce, to land and attack, to keep Dink from the pups.

Come, Evil. Try to stop Dink. You hurt pups, Evil? You hurt Best Boy? Come to Dink, Evil.

The giant spider clung to the ceiling and knew fear for the first time. Opening its mouth, the chittering and moaning grew in speed and volume.

"Clitch kackackack gatch. Hatehatehatehatehate. Unnnghhh. Kachich. Mistress. Titchich. Nonononono. Stopstopstopstopstop."

It spit at Dink, who ran forward. It spit again and Dink rolled. Within reach of the pups, Dink licked William's face. The blue light that coursed down his fur rolled over him. He moved his fingers. Dink licked again.

"Nononononono. Mistress chitchitch punish." Falling from the ceiling, the spider landed awkwardly, protecting its two damaged legs.

Yes, Evil. Face Dink!

Launching himself through the air, Dink crashed into two of the creature's legs, slipped between them and sunk his teeth into the spider's flesh where it's primate head met spider body. In return, the spider used its rows of sharp teeth to bite into Dink.

They were matched only in intent. The spider's hollow teeth, meant for transmitting poison, lodged under the great dog's fur. Dink's monstrous strength sunk his own teeth deep into the creature. Nothing could dislodge Dink's fangs. He pulled and shook with his massive head. Meat tore from bone. The shaking of the creature slowed and Dink's pulling stopped. He couldn't move, but he didn't release either.

The creature withdrew its teeth and reared back as best it could. About to bite again and loose more venom, another of its eyes was struck and burst. Screeching, it tried to draw back and pulled Dink with it.

"Get the hell away from my dog!"

A rancid fluid dripped from the iron on William's knuckles. He shot in, as if for a single leg take-down and instead launched himself up to his full height and punched the creature on the side of the head. Sparks flew and the creature tried to spit, missing wildly.

Every time the blue current ran from Dink's muzzle to his tail, the poison weakened. He saw the creature pull its head back, ready to spit again at William. Pulling back with all his might, teeth secure in the spider's flesh, he rolled and pulled the creature with him. On its back, it was defenseless when Dink released, climbed on it's belly and bit into its neck. Pulling, pulling, pulling, Dink kept his paws on the creature. Black ichor sprayed everywhere as Dink ripped at muscle, lowered his hips and tore and pulled and rent, a deep, low growl rumbled through him as he almost decapitated the creature.

Seeing the spider twitching in his death throes, Dink turned to Best Boy. Seeing that William was okay, Dink ran to Cynthia.

He licked her, nudged her and spoke to her. He knew she couldn't understand proper speech, but he spoke anyway. Cynthia's head tilted backwards, her arms trembled and she fell on Dink, hugging him tightly, tears streaming down her face.