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It was late at night. Despite not usually needing sleep, the combination of an extended period of time in the human world and the last week’s stress left both Kestrel and Sorrel feeling exhausted. They had been on the same uncomfortable chairs at the same conference table for enough hours that time had become nearly as indeterminate as when they were in faerie land. Slowly, laboriously, Sorrel lifted their head from the table.
“Okay, let’s go over this one more time. Cra–Alex no longer has the artifacts, with the exception of the crown. Without the soul and the necklace, their chance of getting crowned is very low, but not zero.”
“Right.”
“So we need to do something else to stop them.”
“Right.”
“We have talked to the humans of our court, Wisteria has talked to the humans of hers. With their strength and ours we can challenge Alex’s coronation.”
“Right.”
“But that’s not foolproof.”
“Correct.”
“It would do well to have a backup plan.”
“...yes, we have discussed that.”
“So we need a backup plan.”
“That would be good, yes.”
Sorrel stared into space for a moment, rubbing the thumbs of their clasped hands thoughtfully. Kestrel took the time to take in their sharp silhouette, clever eyes, and proud crown. Though she had little experience in such things, Kestrel was sure that Sorrel was one of the cleverest, most capable fae she had ever known. Even if they were sometimes… abrupt and harsh, they were a great fae who would certainly have great ideas. They had always held the Sage Court together and surely, in this moment of great need, they would not fail.
“I don’t have a plan.”
“We can make–”
“I don’t have the shadow of a plan. I have no ideas. Ugh.”
Sorrel dropped their head back onto the table, making a loud clack as their crown contacted the surface. They didn’t raise their head as they spoke again.
“Maybe I am not the cleverest fae of Sage Court.”
“Don’t say that!”
“No, no! It’s okay!” Sorrel threw their head back in agony as their ego shriveled and died in the air between them. “I am simply getting old and stupid! I have grown dull!”
“Sorrel, you are neither old nor stupid! Besides, I’m sure it’s not your age. Juniper’s older than you, and he’s not stupid!”
As soon as she spoke, Kestrel knew she had made a mistake. Sorrel raised themself slowly and turned to face Kestrel.
“Please. Do not. Compare me to Juniper right now. I know that they’re your pen pal and you value them a lot and… I know that he is more clever than some of Foxglove, but I really don’t want to hear about how terribly wonderful they are right now.”
Kestrel shrank back in her chair.
“Sorry. I just meant I don’t think you’re getting old and stupid. There’s no reason that age should dull your cleverness. You’re just having a bad night.”
“Perhaps so, but if we don’t figure out how to stop Cr… Alex… now, every night from here on out is going to be one of the worst nights of our lives.”
Sorrel paused for a moment, fingering their glasses chain thoughtfully.
“...my life, especially.”
“I’m sorry.”
Kestrel had an idea, but paused a moment before speaking. Surely Sorrel, in their cleverness, would have already thought of this. But, perhaps… they were having a difficult night…
“Okay, so… humans can die.”
Sorrel turned to face her slowly.
“Yes, I am painfully aware of that fact.”
“Humans… can be made to die.”
“I see where you are going with this and I’m not sure that it is the wisest choice.”
“I would defer to your superior wisdom, but I will point out that we are left with few choices here. Besides, it’s only a backup plan.”
“It’s only a backup plan. Yes.”
Sorrel rubbed their hands together thoughtfully.
“We need to do some research.”
Three library visits later, Sorrel and Kestrel were none the wiser, though much more tired and frustrated. As it turns out, you cannot simply walk into a public library and ask how humans die and get a solid answer. They were back in the same conference room in the same uncomfortable chairs with the same lack of information. Once again, they were both facedown on the table. It took several hours of despairing before Kestrel had an idea.
"Sorrel... What about that... Google-machine... that Alex told us about?"
"What about it?"
"Doesn't it... answer questions? Without judging you or throwing you out?"
"...well I don't fully remember how to use it, but if you do, you can."
"I think we need... either a computer or a, um... one of those little hand mirrors.. the ones with the internet."
"Oh, I have one of those! I use it for Instagram sometimes."
There was a long pause while Kestrel waited for Sorrel to break into their signature giggle that always followed one of their jokes. It did not come.
"What? The people must see pictures of my beautiful--I mean, uh. The people must receive my wise reflections. As directly as possible."
Kestrel was too wise to let her doubts show.
"Okay, then, could I borrow it to do research?"
"Does this even have the internets on it? I only use it for Instagram."
"Yes, I'm sure it has the internet on it. Alex said that all of them come with it built in."
"Okay... just don't look through any of my personal files, okay?"
"Naturally." Kestrel knew better than to snoop in Sorrel's belongings or to ask what they wanted to keep hidden there.
After a few minutes of searching, Kestrel had an answer.
"People die if they are killed."
"Killed?"
"As in, the fastest way for a human to die is for them to be killed."
"Okay... how does one kill a human?"
Kestrel typed into the search bar then furrowed her brow.
"Well.. There appear to be a variety of methods of execution, but most of them require an amount of infrastructure that we don't have. This also seems to be very focused on prisoners, and we do not have Alex already restrained, so they might not work."
"Okay... how do you kill a person who isn't restrained?"
"Um... this seems to be saying a lot about car crashes. I think I phrased it wrong. Give me a few minutes."
Sorrel twiddled their fingers and fiddled with their chains for the minutes that it took Kestrel to find a more useful answer. Patience was not their strong suit at the best of times, and this was far from the best of times.
Kestrel set the phone down with a decisive slap.
"Okay, so this whole 'search engine' thing is not as easy as Alex tried to make us believe, but I think I have an answer."
"Okay. What is it?"
"Well, it turns out one of the execution methods is actually available to most people."
"Okay. What is it?"
"There's this thing called a gun."
Kestrel and Sorrel nervously wandered the aisles of Walmart. Sorrel's sharp eyes skimmed the products on either side of them, but saw nothing like the image Kestrel held up on their phone.
"Are you absolutely certain we can get one here?"
"That's what the search engine said... Or, kind of. There were a lot of people complaining that you could get a gun at Walmart and they wouldn't complain if you couldn't, right?"
"I think you may be overestimating the humans' wisdom in this circumstance."
"I hope not."
Kestrel waved at a person in a blue vest. "Look, it's a human who works here! We can ask them!"
"Fine, I suppose we can. Excuse me! My good vendor!" Sorrel waved at them.
The employee plastered on a weary smile and walked over.
"Can I help you find something?"
"Yes, we were looking for a... gun."
The employee struggled not to react to Sorrel's strange tone, but pointed the way with the same smile.
"Sporting goods are closer to the back down this way. It'll be in aisle 89, on your left."
Sorrel gave a crisp nod to the employee before heading off.
"Your help is appreciated."
In the sporting goods section, they stared at a display case of long, thin weapons.
"These don't look exactly like what you looked up. They're very big."
"I know. Maybe they keep the small ones somewhere else."
"I just don't want it to be obvious, you know. I don't want to bring a longsword to a knife fight."
"You don't want to bring a longsword to a fistfight that might end with knives."
"Yes, exactly."
Kestrel fidgeted with her hands, then stopped herself and smoothed her skirt. The counter in front of the case of weapons was unoccupied. Kestrel looked around the corner nervously. With a flutter of their fingers, Sorrel sent a gust of wind down the next aisle, ruffling the hair of the employee stocking the shelf. He turned his head and saw them at the counter, then did a half-shuffle, half-jog to get there briskly.
"Hi, how can I help you?"
Sorrel adjusted their glasses.
"Hello, I would like to buy one gun, please."
The employee looked between the two light, otherworldly beings. Perhaps he was more observant than the other, because his gaze lingered doubtfully on their faces.
"Ooookay, do you know what type of firearm you're looking for?"
"Something light and small. And easy to use. I haven't worked with any sort of explosive weapon before."
The employee looked at them strangely, but nodded.
"If you want something smaller, you're probably looking for a pistol. We don't sell those here anymore, but you can get them at a gun shop."
"A gun shop... A shop just for guns?"
"...Yes. There's one just down the way."
He gave them the address, and they left.
The parking lot was empty when they arrived, with the exception of a single tall, black truck with spikes studding its bumper and wheel wells. A sticker with a skull made of stripes--mostly white, one blue--dominated its rear windshield. The lights inside were dim and they couldn't see anyone moving inside.
As the approached the door, Kestrel commented, "I hope we can get one here. I really don't want to try anywhere else."
Sorrel nodded their assent, then opened the door and allowed Kestrel to step inside. A pair of bells jangled against the door as they stepped inside. Although the room was of a decent size, Kestrel felt the as if the walls were pressing in on her, weighed down by the tight ranks of long, black weapons on their hooks. In the case in front of them, forming a solid barrier between the fae and the wall of weapons, were rows of smaller firearms packed side-to-side on two shelves.
If it weren't for their deadly nature, Kestrel would think that they looked like the strange mechanical objects that Sorrel built. Many of them were made of the same shining metal, and she could see that they had some of the same type of tiny, interlocking mechanisms. As soon as she had thought of it, she saw that Sorrel was standing close to the cases, taking advantage of the proprietor's absence to study the weapons beneath the glass. Kestrel noticed a joyful glow in their eyes as they gazed down at the well-crafted weapons.
From the open doorway behind the counter, they could hear the sounds of voices, tiny explosions, and the thunk of projectiles hitting targets. Every few seconds, there was a break in the explosions and a few peals of jovial laughter and loud conversation. In one of the breaks, Kestrel called back through the doorway.
"Excuse me!!! Excuse me?"
The laughter stopped suddenly and someone muttered something. A few seconds later, a large man with a beard ducked through the doorway.
"Oh--hello." He stopped short suddenly upon seeing them, but quickly recovered his composure. "What can I do for you two..."
He trailed off partway to an end to the sentence.
Kestrel waited for Sorrel to answer, but they were too entranced with the case.
"We're looking for a handgun."
"Okay, what kind? Something light enough for a little lady like you to handle?"
"Oh, no, my um... Sorrel. Sorrel, tell him what you want."
Sorrel looked up from the case.
"Could you show me this one here?"
They gestured to a silver handgun with a shiny white grips.
"Ahh, that's a beauty." The proprietor smiled. "A custom engraved Colt 1911 Government, .38 Super, made specially for the Altamont Company. The grips are faux pearl, but they're just as pretty as the real thing, and less brittle. It features custom Royal Scroll engraving. It's a very pretty piece."
Sorrel paused a moment, then dragged their gaze away from the beautiful weapon with great effort.
"Is it good for beginners?"
The proprietor let out a low whistle.
"Well, you'd be goin' real pricey for your first piece, but that's a choice you can make. It's an autoloader, so you might want to be careful of..."
Kestrel's mind drifted off as he went into a detailed description of its features. He seemed intent on selling a gun to Sorrel, and their rapt interest to this particular piece clearly steered his sales pitch. At some point while Kestrel was letting her eyes wander to some of the lighter and more brightly colored accessories, the proprietor led Sorrel back through the open doorway, gun in one hand and their elbow in the other.
He threw a quick, "your girlfriend can come, too, if she wants," over his shoulder, not even leaving Kestrel time to correct him before they disappeared.
Nearly an hour and several punctured targets later, Kestrel and Sorrel walked out of the shop with arms shaking with adrenaline, ears and hair dented from the hearing protection, and with a case with a beautiful gun inside.
The morning of the coronation, Sorrel paced up and down rapidly.
"I know we went through all the trouble of getting the gun and preparing for this, but... what if I can't do it?"
Kestrel tried to put a hand on their shoulder to stop them, but they pushed past.
"I have trouble believing that you can't do it, but it's okay if you won't."
"What if they look too much like her?"
"They might. But you didn't notice for the last few months, so why start now?"
Sorrel glared.
"You know that's not what I meant."
"Listen. Sorrel. This may be your lover's descendant, but more importantly, it is someone who will destroy the fae realm as we know it if we let them. Some risks are not worth taking."
Sorrel nodded.
"Alright."
They offered Alex the crown. Against all advice and every more suitable option, they chose Alex.
As they handed over the soul and the necklace, it still didn't feel real. It seemed like any moment they might change their minds, choose someone else--Sorrel, Kestrel, Juniper, even--but finally, they handed Alex the crown.
They didn't put it on immediately--no, that would be too quick--but gave a speech about how this would bring about the rightful end of the brutal fae kingdom, end their ability to steal people from their families and ruin lives, and avenge the kidnapping of their ancestor, Alice.
For two parts of the three, Sorrel held their breath. Maybe this human had a point after all. Maybe the fae had placed themselves above morality for too long.
But at the third, a grim determination gripped their heart. They had not spent years with Iris to for some young human who knew nothing to reduce the most difficult choice of her life to a "kidnapping". They had not lived and loved with her, spent many clever and beautiful hours with her, shared many kisses with her, for their relationship to reduced to the theft of an idea of a grandmother. They had not watched Iris nurture two kingdoms as one with the patience of a gardener, the cleverness of a sage, and the gentleness of a mother to hear the society she had built be called brutal.
Alex raised the crown above their head, Sorrel raised the gun, feeling not its cleverness or its beauty but its weight. They saw Iris's eyes, the same set as her jaw, and the same brow furrowed in determination. They also saw an expression etched with fear and hate of a type they had never seen on her face. Sorrel cocked the hammer back. Alex waited a breath, waited for the hammer to move, then began to lower the crown to their head.
In a breath, Sorrel pulled the trigger.
It was as easy as choosing the future and as hard as seeing her die again.