Page 11 of Made

When asked if he’d like to nominate a bailiff, Lochlan didn’t hesitate. As an adolescent, he’d spent many seasons in the north with Hengest’s family. He’d relished their lengthy and sometimes heated debates over abstract academic principles of interest to very few. Hengest was not only well-suited to the position temperamentally, but his size presented a commanding presence. As a bonus, he was in charge of a battalion that protected the border from the wild Scots. In those days, the wild Scots were ambitious when it came to the desire for expansion. He’d know which of his soldiers would make loyal guards and could be trusted with the selection.

Last, the plan required a court enforcer so fierce and formidable that their mere presence would keep court attendees in check. Because that was such a tall order, the Powers decided to sanction a creation. That was a rarity that rose to the category of unique, as there was no previous record of such an event.

The Powers determined that one of the two most powerful fae queens would be granted the honor. Maeve and Serafina each received missives at the same hour of the same day, inviting them to submit a proposal should they wish to compete for selection. The queens were equally gifted from the perspective of sheer power. The choice would depend on their conception of what sort of creature would be best suited for the job and their perceived ability to follow through.

Maeve was on the way out to attend the christening of a new lake when the sea-green shuttersof her dressing room flew open. She wasn’t startled because being startled was beneath a queen of Irish fae. But she was surprised, knowing that no one who valued their life or limb would dare use magic in her home without an express invitation to do so. She turned just in time to see the windows disappear. Anger spiked, but quickly quelled when a large dove flew in and landed on the arm of a velvet chaise lounge. The bird was beautiful in an otherworldly way; transparent but brightly lit. It carried a large scroll by the ribbon with which it was tied. Maeve accepted the scroll, which was not parchment but some radiant material, the color of white sand.

Having fulfilled its mission, the dove took flight and left the way it had come. Though Maeve could’ve easily done so herself, the Powers were considerate enough to leave the windows and shutters as they’d been found. In short, except for the scroll in Maeve’s hand, there was no sign that anything out of the ordinary had occurred.

“Well. That was dramatic,” she said to no one. Earlier, she’d scared away the staff with an overreaction to some perceived slight. Maeve didn’t need a staff, of course, but she kept them around so that she didn’t get out of practice interacting with others. And so that she’d be constantly reminded of her elevated station, always good for the ego. The fact that she didn’t understand that dominating underlings isn’t interacting in the usual sense was irrelevant to the queen. She assumed it was a privilege to experience her presence regardless of mood.

When she pulled the ribbon’s end to remove it manually, the ribbon disappeared, leaving just the scroll in her hand.

There are few things capable of impressing Maeve, and even the word “few” might be an exaggeration. The long and short of it was that a missive from the Powers That Be qualified. Of course, it was flattering. Even an honor.

When she realized what she was holding, she sat down on the closest Queen Ann chair, the one with the French striped satin, and waved a steaming cup of Rasputin into existence. She believed the best way to enhance a moment was with an accompanying black Russian tea. As she lifted a delicate china cup to her still full and youthful lips, she began to read the message written in perfectly penned calligraphy.

After a third reading, she set the scroll down and asked herself what kind of creature might be counted on to be stable yet fearsome enough to bring an enormous crowd of magic kind to heel. If asked, she’d never be able to say what inspired the notion of a beautiful man with a calming temperament and demeanor who could instantly shift into a menacing, giant winged lion intent on keeping order.

Once the vision was fixed in place, she had no trouble dashing off a description complete with colorful and evocative illustrations. The scroll included instructions on how to submit her entry. After rereading them, she loaded her proposal into the scroll then set it on fire.

That done, she sat back with a self-satisfied assurance she would win and said, “Hmmm.” Only then did she realize she was late to officiate the lake christening. Even Maeve wouldn’t maintain her outstanding standing long by disappointing dignitaries and appearing ‘flaky’.

“Shite bitters,” she said, vanishing so quickly, she displaced air and caused the drapes to rustle in the breeze.

Maeve wasn’t the sort to be sappy about honors or recognition, but it would be impossible to ignore a commission that had come directly from the Powers. After all, they could do whatever they wanted on their own. Perhaps they thought involving fae in the project increased its chances of success. Perhaps they were right about that, but she couldn’t spend too much time speculating on the thought processes of the Powers That Be.

Meanwhile, some thousand miles to the east, Serafina had just submitted her own entry. Like Maeve, she had good reason for arrogance. Unlike Maeve, who was merely honored by a direct communication from the Powers, Serafina was set atwitter and was vibrating visibly. Shereallywanted to be the one to create the new Court’s enforcer and submitted a fine plan detailing a creature resembling Big Foot, or blond Wookie if you will. One of the differences that figured into the final decision was that Serafina’s creature would be “programmed” to respond to commands, whereas Maeve’s creaturewould be autonomous, able to exercise good judgment and act independently.

It was a mystery how someone not known for good judgment, such as Maeve, might create an entity with good judgment. But mysteries are one of the best things in any world.

The two features of Maeve’s creature that won the Powers over were independence and shifting. There was considerable appeal to an intelligent enforcer with the appearance of a highborn fae who would sit at the magistrate’s left hand and know instinctively when it would be necessary to warn and when it would be necessary to shift and step in without external prompt.

Serafina wasn’t devastated by the loss to Maeve. But she was disappointed. Not enough to cause it to break her stride or be noticeable, but...

She told herself that she didn’t hold a grudge toward Maeve and thought herself above resentment, but…

A nagging envy took root deep in her heart and, as the centuries passed, it grew every time she observed Maeve collect recognition that might’ve been and, she believed,should’vebeen hers.

Though Serafina has come to like me, to the extent she finds it possible to tolerate a human, it’s clear she originally befriended me to vex Maeve. She never said so, of course. That was just my take. When the dust settled, Serafina gained something more beneficial that she hadn’t factored in - favorwith the one and only magistrate. Naturally, that is a confidential secret. It would be disastrous if the community-at-large found out I’m only human and have favorites. It was a coup that far outweighed the pleasure Serafina might get from needling Maeve.

Even more significant was the next familial encroachment. When Serafina gained Evie’s affection and trust and became her mentor, she knew, once and for all, it was a victory far more gratifying than creating the court enforcer. Maeve was far too self-absorbed to recognize the implications or care. The fact that the Irish queen wasn’t bothered didn’t affect Serafina. She was old enough to think in big picture terms and make plans that would germinate according to the turn of seasons and manifest over time.

It never occurred to Evie or me that we might unwittingly become pieces on a chessboard overseen and manipulated by the Italian queen. Thinking Serafina was friendly, if not a friend, I wasn’t alarmed by the attention paid to my daughter. Evie and I were both grateful. After all, Serafina could help with the esoterica and give Evie badly needed tutoring on the highly specialized skill of how to be an effective fae queen.

A rare genuine smile graced Maeve’s face when she received the news that her creature would be the enforcer. She’d not once been burdened by doubt that she could complete the mission successfully. Why would she be? Her power to create made her the closest thing to a goddess. In fact, some might saythere was little to distinguish between an old and powerful Irish fae queen and goddesses familiar to humans.

The missive informing of her selection included a list of specifications and physical plans for the court, presumably so she would know how big was too big when creating her enforcer. She wasn’t expecting the additional list of mandatory attributes not part of the original outline. But first, who’s going to question the Powers That Be? And second, the stipulations were easily within her ability. So, no big deal.

The delivery date was inconsequential. The first court was to convene in six seasons. Maeve had no preference as to whether the demand was immediate or years in the future. There was, however, an unforeseen snag. The Irish queen, notorious for lack of self-awareness, hadn’t realized she was a perfectionist until she embarked on the project. There was little in life, other than her own pleasures and comforts, that Maeve took seriously, but recognizing the future of the proposed court and the honor of being the enforcer’s creator, she committed to giving her best.

Somehow, she found time between dazzling attendees at the Blue Moon Ball and cutting the ribbon for the opening of the Extinct Species Petting Zoo.

The queen liked to think of herself as someone beyond error, but quickly learned about the division between delusion and truth. On her first try at a winged lion shifter, she realized she’d placed too much emphasis on ferocity. The thing was so hideous shewas forced to wish it away, which meant it was as if it had never taken physical form in the first place.

After half a dozen more attempts, all aborted, she was satisfied with the appearance of her creature in sephalian form. After another series of edits, she was happy with the look of her masterpiece in biped form, but when she asked a question for simulated feedback, it was clear that her creature’s personality was not in line with the job.

Back to the drawing board.

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