20. The Pen and the Sword.

Just as the pen appeared, we heard fluttering from behind us. Two grey stones came alive and took off in flight out the door.

“What was that?” asked Soy.
“I think we’re going to find out,” answered Deli. 

With a great swooping noise, the low purple light from the lake was blocked by an enormous figure. The huge, shiny talons on Ream's feet clinked on the ground as he landed. Ducking below the archway, he approached the three of us. He was flanked on both sides by dozens and dozens of fairies. 

The fairies looked similar in shape to the ones in Pavidale, but they were not the same. They had no color, only greyness, and moved like they were made of stone. When their wings flapped, they left a trail of dull chalk. These was no brightness or happiness about them.

“So, Cal,” bellowed Ream, “it seems that you’ve finally lived up to your story.”
“How did you get here?” demanded Deli. 

Ream slowly circled us as he spoke, kicking up dirt and dust.

“Oh, it wasn’t hard once you showed me the right door. I see now that it was under my claws this whole time. To think how many fairies I wasted on those other doors. Oh, well,” he said leaning in closer, “they were only fairies after all.” 

Deli was angry.
“How dare you!” she shouted.
“Hush now, Delilah. There are more important things to worry about. Like how I will roast your new little friend if he doesn’t hand over the pen.”
“Don’t you dare!” shouted a voice from behind Ream. 

The moment I heard it, I knew that it was the voice of the one fairy who might be able to get us out of this mess. 

“Tryt!” I yelled.
Tryt came flying in straight past Ream and settled in front of us. 

“I followed you here to make sure that nothing went wrong,” he said.
“Well, thank goodness you did,” said Deli. “Ream was about to turn us into a meal.”
Tryt turned with a smile and said, “Oh, he wouldn’t do that. I gave him strict orders not to damage the pen.” 

The words cut me as they settled in. 

“You… gave him orders?” said Deli.
“That’s right, Delilah," Tryt declared. "Ream has been a valuable ally to me.” 

Ream let out a fiery laugh. 

“Didn’t you ever wonder how I was able to steal your fairy friends? Or how I knew you’d be in the dark cloud before you even got there?” Ream said with amusement.
“Yes," Tryt responded, "I sent them straight to you, Ream, so that you could get rid of Deli and the sidekick, but you didn’t, did you?” 

Ream’s toothy smile faded. 

“No matter, there’s nothing they can do to stop us now, anyway,” said Tryt.
“You betrayed your friends. How could you?” screamed Deli.
“Fairies don’t matter. The Author Pen is all that matters,” said Tryt. 

Suddenly, it all clicked. 

“You’re the fairy from the story, the one who told the king about the wells,” I said.
“I thought he was the one who was hiding like a tiny baby?” remarked Soy.
“I was both of them, you fool. And I wasn’t hiding!” shouted Tryt. “I was following the dwarves as part of my plan. I used the king and those stubborn dwarves to help me find the wells. But once they did, I couldn’t convince them to give me the pen. At least not the important one. The one that showed the wells’ true power. The pen meant for a king! Instead, they gave me this.” Tryt pulled out the pen he had used to write my story. “The pen of a servant.”
“And… Ream?” Deli asked sadly.
“A means to an end. When I learned there was a dragon powerful enough to enslave elves, I knew that he was my best chance. That’s why I couldn’t have you defeat him. I warned him of your impending attack, and he was able to escape.”

Ream snarled.

“You did what?” Deli leapt forward. A handful of fairies flew up and intercepted her before she could reach Tryt.
“You see the advantage of an army," Tryt said with a laugh. “You see, you freed the elves when you hit him with your arrow, but he kept his rile. Power strong enough to build a new army, for me. An army made for one purpose: to find the Author Pen. I thought an army of fairies would be useful, but it turns out they were better than I could have imagined. When Ream started stealing fairies, he threatened the existence of fairytales, and a hero was chosen. ‘Dire need’, as they say. I had hoped Ream would be able to find the pen without Cal, but the dwarves were craftier than I expected. But no matter. We are here now, and the Author Pen is within my grasp, thanks to all of you.”

The pen burned in my hand. I had done exactly what they had wanted me to do. I had led Ream and Tryt and their army of fairies right to the most powerful tool in the world. 

“It was a brilliant plan, wouldn’t you say?” asked Tryt boastfully.
“People don’t like it when you call your own ideas brilliant,” Soy interrupted.
Deli and I turned to face him.
“What? I’m just saying, I’ve been told that a lot,” he said softly.

“What’s in it for you, then?” I asked, turning to Ream, desperate for a way out of all this. 

“Oh, not much, just control of all the humans,” he said with a grin that crawled under my skin. 

“With just one swipe of a pen, I will make it so. I have little use for them,” said Tryt. 

Deli tried to jump free, but no luck. Soy looked at me and motioned with his eyes that he was ready to charge Tryt. I shook my head slightly.

“That’s cute,” noticed Tryt, “but I'm afraid you won’t be a match for an army of fairies and the most powerful dragon ever known. Now hand the pen over, and I will consider letting you leave here in one piece, Cal. I will keep Soy as my own personal servant, however, and teach him some manners… the hard way.” 

This wasn’t right. I had promised Soy that I’d get him out of this trouble- that I’d get us all out of this. But at that moment, I didn’t see how. I thought back to the poem. I scrolled through it in my mind, looking for anything that I might have missed, and there it was. The second stanza: 

The safest place to hide creation: 

Hands that lack imagination. 

It was the only verse that hadn’t made sense yet. If the answer I needed wasn’t in those words, then I was lost. I started with the first line. If creation meant the Author Pen, then we had already found where it was hidden. Hadn’t we? But we had found it at the bottom of the Well of Rile. That didn’t sound much like a hand to me. And, as far as I could tell, imagination didn’t play any part in it. I was out of ideas, and I was out of time. Tryt stepped in front of me, with Ream at his back. 

“The Author Pen. Give it to me now,” he said. 

Tryt reached out his palm towards me. I stared at his pink hand… 

The riddle. 

I understood.  

“I’ll trade you,” I offered.
“What?” Ream asked.
“Give me the Fairytale Pen, and I will give you mine,” I said. 

“Why would I give you any…” started Tryt, but before he could finish, I held the pen out over the Well of Rile.

Tryt took a step back in fear.
“Because if you don’t, I’ll drop the pen. Do you know what happens when a magic pen is dropped into a well of rile? Because I don’t,” I said. 

“If you do, I will roast every last one of you!” shouted Ream.
Tryt closed his eyes for a moment and raised his hand to silence the dragon. “No need, my fiery friend. He can have the Fairytale Pen. It seems fitting for him to be the one to write down the terrible tales to come. Here,” Tryt said, as he tossed the Fairytale Pen to me. “Now hand over the pen before I get angry.”
“Don’t do it!” shouted Soy. 

But I did. I withdrew the pen from over the well and tossed it to Tryt. He caught it with a flutter. 

“I don’t believe it. It’s finally mine!” he exclaimed. “Send in the book!” 

Grey fairies flew into the room carrying the Book of Lore that I had seen back in Pavidale, when things seemed so different, and Tryt was still on our side. Tryt flew off to the edge of the room and set to work on the book. 

“Shall I finish the frog off?” asked Ream.
“Not yet. I want her to see this,” answered Tryt as he opened the book to the pages of my fairytale. 

Deli looked at me with sad eyes. 

“Oh, Cal. We’ve failed," she sobbed.
I shook my head and told her, “Nobody writes my story but me.” 

I heard an angry clamor echoing in the great cavern.
“It’s not working! Why isn’t it working!” Tryt screamed.