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“Yes, the Stone. Was he a tyrant?”
“I don’t suppose there was anyone to tyrannize, except ammonites and will-o’-the-wisps.”
“HELLO,” said the First Stone amiably.
“See? He wasn’t a tyrant, so it’s possible not to steal and crush and outlaw and cast terrible spells. Not that I shall have time to do any of those things. I’ve only got two more days as Queen. Which I think is awfully unfair. You all got to be in charge as long as you could hold on to it. I still don’t understand why I can’t just keep on being Queen.”
“I thought you didn’t want it,” said Madame Tanaquill coolly.
September’s cheeks burned. “I didn’t want to do my mathematics homework back home. Or mend the fence or mind the chickens. But I did it anyway. Just because a person doesn’t want to do a thing doesn’t mean they ought to shirk.” The words came out before September could stop them. She tripped and fell into honesty at the worst times, and came up with the truth all over her dress. The crown felt suddenly warm on her head.
“It’s hardly a usual situation,” the Elephanta said.
“Be grateful, girlie,” huffed Cutty Soames. “Fairyland likes you. She’s doing you a favor. Because, if not for the Derby, one of us would probably have killed you before you even got to meet our Jack. I think Titania already had a plan involving a mud puddle.”
“Where is Titania?” September asked, choosing to ignore the threats of a goblin in a pirate coat. “And all the others?”
“We didn’t invite everyone,” Hushnow, the Ancient and Demented Raven Lord, crooned. “Only people who’ve decided to race already. Oh, and of course, only people we can stand to share the air with. Goldmouth is a brute and the Knapper would murder us all inside a minute and never spill his drink. Titania’s halfway to Buyan by now. She had enough of Queening before Tansy there was even born. Oh! How she and her man used to fight! Sank half of Fairyland underground by the time they got themselves tuckered out. A lot of us feel that way. Getting cast down by some young upstart once was quite enough.”
“So this is it? You’re the only ones racing?”
“Two more days, child,” said Curdleblood softly. “Everyone must decide in their own time.”
“Well, I oughtn’t to be here at all, then,” said September, setting her snifter down. “I haven’t decided yet. Whether I’m going to race in the Derby.”
This caused some uproar among the members of the Once and Future Club.
“See?” bellowed Charlie Crunchcrab. “See? She doesn’t even want it. She’s a disgrace! Why did the crown pick her when she’s just a little nobody with no ambition?”
“Come off it, Chuck,” Madame Tanaquill snorted. “You hired those two kids to find a way for you to abdicate. We all know it. You didn’t want it, either.”
“Well, I do now. I didn’t abdicate! I meant to, yes, but I didn’t! The crown was taken away from me. There’s nothing like a robbery to sharpen your priorities.”
“And I didn’t depose you on purpose, Charles!” snapped September. “I don’t know why you’re so cross with me. It’s not like you were doing such a marvelous job at it, you know.”
The Panther of Rough Storms interrupted them. His golden eyes gleamed in the lamplight. “I’m sorry, September, but you have to race. Hasn’t anyone explained it to you? The Derby won’t work if you don’t compete. You cannot abdicate, remember. We must take Fairyland from you. You are the Queen; you have the crown. It is only half a Race. The other half is a Hunt. And I suspect we will end up with a Duel as our third half before it’s all done. It’s hardly a Derby without Duels. We are Racing one another. We are searching for the Heart of Fairyland. We will Duel to determine the strongest. But we are Hunting you. You are the fox, and we are the hounds.”
“Well, that is the oddest way to run a government I have ever heard of,” September said stubbornly. “It’s just absurd to elect a leader with a race or a chase or a hunt for a heart!”
“What’s an ‘elect’?” asked Hushnow, the Ancient and Demented Raven Lord.
“It’s how we decide who’s in charge where I come from. Everyone in the whole country votes for the President and the man who gets the most votes wins.”
A chorus of gasps went up from the club. Madame Tanaquill held a handkerchief over her mouth.
“That’s ghastly!” cried the Hushnow, the Ancient and Demented Raven Lord.
“What if everyone chooses the wrong man?” gawped Pinecrack. “And if it’s always a man and never a moose or an octopus or a spriggan I think that’s just obscene, and prejudiced, and you ought to leave right now.”
September frowned. “Well, sometimes people do. But it’s only for a few years, and then there’s another election.”
The Rex Tyrannosaur looked nauseous. “Quite, quite horrid,” he whispered.
“Yes, I think we’d all better collect ourselves,” said the Headmistress. “Nothing like that could ever happen here, of course. Perish the thought.”
“Well, it could, you know…,” began September.
“Perish the thought!” the Headmistress roared. She cleared her throat and composed herself, wiping her hands on her skirt.
