Free The Accidental Highwayman by Ben Tripp

overheard by his secretive friend in the hayloft, but I was—to my horror—rapidly becoming accustomed to it.
    â€œYou can’t be finished,” Willum said, and his light grew dim. “This is the beginning of the revolution, I tell you. You’re the secret to our success.”
    I stood up and brushed damp straw off myself. Midnight bent his neck around to watch what was happening. He didn’t seem at all put out by the tiny apparition.
    â€œI’m Kit,” said I. “Christopher Bristol, indentured servant to Master James Rattle, and before that indentured to Fortescue Trombonio, impresario. Why I’m dressed like this and how I came to be tangled in this business with the Princess I can hardly explain, for I hardly understand it. That’s my entire story. Now, what is yours?”

 
    Chapter 9
    A ROYAL WEDDING FORETOLD
    â€œI T’S LIKE this,” said Willum. “Gruntle and myself are feyín * , which is a type of Faerie. All magical creatures are Faeries. We are now in the First Realm, that being the human world. But we are from the Middle Kingdom, which regulates the natural part of the First Realm. On the other side there’s the Realm Beyond, which is where the Elden are, and we have no more to do with that dark world than manlings have to do with ours.”
    â€œBut I have to do with your world!” I exclaimed. “I was surrounded by goblings and so forth, and met that witch, and now you.”
    â€œNo, that all happened here in your world. We only pop in and out for periods of time. Except Magda. She dwells here. It’s her what coordinated the rescue mission. She’d like to get back, you see, and she’s most unhappy with the king. Elgeron, he is. King of Faerie. We planned the whole thing by bee.”
    I dwelled upon these words for a while, my thoughts illuminated by bottom-light.
    â€œAllow me to summarize,” said I. “Please correct me on any point. Faeries include you lot with the glowing bums along with other, different creatures. Goblings and trolls and whatnot. That old witch hired my master to rescue the Princess, but he died, so I had to rescue the Princess instead to fulfill his bargain, which I did.”
    â€œExactly,” said Willum, and brightened up quite literally.
    â€œWhy did I have to rescue the Princess?”
    â€œWell, she’s Princess Morgana ne Dé Danann Trolkvinde Arian yn Gadael ou Elgeron-Smith, she is. Lady of the Realm, Keeper of the Silver Leaves, Duchess of Springtime, daughter and only heir of King Elgeron. And her father arranged a marriage for her. She’s supposed to get hitched to some hapless Hanoverian halfwit from the human herd to cement a political alliance.”
    â€œAre you telling me,” I said, “that George William Frederick, grandson of King George II * , is to marry a Faerie princess?”
    â€œIt’s absurd, isn’t it?”
    Absurd was hardly a strong enough word. “Why, though?” I asked. “Why would a human royal marry such a—”
    â€œSuch a what,” Willum said, springing to his feet, ready to take offense. He put up raisin-sized fists.
    â€œâ€”Such a dream of beauty?” I concluded. And I meant it. She was a vision plucked from a reverie on a warm moonlit night. “After all,” I added, “human kings and princes and so forth are the most worldly men alive. There’s not a drop of magic in ’em, I should think.”
    â€œAh,” Willum said, mollified. “And I see you’re a fellow of quick insight. You have touched the very root of the source of the wellspring of our rebellion. Our King would see us turn our comprimaunts—that’s our magical abilities—over to human endeavors, like manufacturing and agriculture.”
    â€œAnd war-making,” Gruntle added, from a hiding place somewhat closer than before. “Manlings love war. I just like the