The Girl Who Fell Beneath Fairyland and Led the Revels There
Catherynne M. Valente
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
"One of the most extraordinary works of fantasy, for adults or children, published so far this century."―Time magazine, on the Fairyland series
September has longed to return to Fairyland after her first adventure there. And when she finally does, she learns that its inhabitants have been losing their shadows―and their magic―to the world of Fairyland Below. This underworld has a new ruler: Halloween, the Hollow Queen, who is September's shadow. And Halloween does not want to give Fairyland's shadows back.
Fans of Valente's bestselling, first Fairyland book will revel in the lush setting, characters, and language of September's journey in The Girl Who Fell Beneath Fairyland and Led the Revels There, all brought to life by fine artist Ana Juan. Readers will also welcome back good friends Ell, the Wyverary, and the boy Saturday. But in Fairyland Below, even the best of friends aren't always what they seem. . . .
firmly over its open end. The sleigh bounced again as if to discharge itself of its responsibility and jogged back off toward Asphodel proper. September approached the cube gingerly and hooked her fingers into the swooping metallic patterns of the gate. She peered inside but saw only a vague redness. “Hello?” she called. “Is the Sibyl at home?” No answer came. September looked around for a bell-pull or a door knocker or something whose job it might be to let visitors in. She saw nothing, only
you make me solve a riddle or answer questions before I go in? I am not very good at riddles, you know. I’m better at blood and troths.” “No, no. That’s for those who don’t know what they’re looking for. Who feel empty, needy, and think a quest will fill them up. I give them riddles and questions and blood and troths so that they will be forced to think about who they are, and who they might like to be, which helps them a great deal in the existential sense. But you know why you are going below.
that you end up bound forever in hopeless knots, even to the shadow of a beast you knew and loved long ago. September reached into her red coat and drew out her ration book. The coat did not quite want to let it go, and pulled on her hands as she plucked it out, but September prevailed. She showed it, reluctantly, to Ell. “I know your magic would be a sight to see, and if I had a ration to spare I’d put it on the barrelhead . . . only I don’t, Ell. I mustn’t squander! I’ve resolved not to
commit some grave breach of etiquette! Just September won’t do at all. We could call you the Princess of Nebraska. That might sum up the speed of things nicely.” The Duke shooed a pack of sleek black dog-shadows off a cerulean couch so that Ell could sink onto his haunches and lap at a barrel of fine, hot tea. September perched on a golden chaise and accepted a black porcelain cup from the Lady Grey. But the cup was empty. The child called Matcha, whose long green hair floated around her head as
were sleeping birds, waiting for sunrise to shake off their dreams. She knelt at the feet of the forest-green statue and in the cold morning of Tain and shook Aubergine awake. The Night-Dodo yawned, showing pink at the back of her feathery throat. She started to squawk up at the day, but September shushed her. “Hush! You mustn’t wake anyone else!” Aubergine snapped her beak shut and looked up at September with large, soft eyes. Could she trust the bird any more than the others? Perhaps,