The Fairy's Tale

Chapter Three

When they arrived at his office, Bea began to doubt her excitement. This Mistasinon had brought her to little more than a box room, cluttered and crowded by Books and filing cabinets. He pulled out a chair for her and then attempted easing himself around both her and his desk, but in fact he only managed in difficulting himself into his seat.

"So I gather you've just finished a story?" he asked, placing his clipboard on the desk, an action akin to the most violent of land-grabs and resulting in a number of pens being displaced. Bea reached down to rescue them from the asylum of the floor.

"Um, yes," she said, trying to find a place to put the pens. "The heroine had to be woken by True Love's Kiss, so it was my responsibility to make sure she wasn't disturbed before the hero could come."

Mistasinon watched as she tidied up his desk, making both the pens and his empty cup fit around the folders and Books.

"I know the one. It's a long wait, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"How did you pass the time?"

Bea felt a twinge of warning. But, she reasoned, if they knew, she wouldn't be sitting here with a Plotter. Still, better play it safe. "I watched the Plot diligently, making sure nothing untoward happened."

Mistasinon gave her the kind of look that said: 'I know the cookie jar's empty, and incidentally you've got chocolate all over your face'.

Bea replied with a little smile.

"You've been quite prolific since you started with us," Mistasinon said, glancing down at his notes.

"Yes," Bea said. "I enjoy working."

"So it seems," he answered, indicating his now tidy desk. "Idle hands write poor verses."

Bea sensed he was laughing at her. She brought her hands up and folded them on the desk in front of her.

"If you say so," she answered coolly.

Mistasinon looked confused for a moment. He closed Bea's folder, and looked up at her. "I see from your records you moved here six years ago, and have been Plot-watching all that time. Most people do it as a hobby, or as an excuse to get to Thaiana, smuggle in goods – but for you it seems to have become something of a career. No one in all that time recommended you for a Plot, despite your obvious drive. I wonder why?"

Bea realised he was expecting an answer. "I think they probably thought I couldn't do it. But I can, I assure you. I can do most things, when I set my mind to it."

The Plotter continued to look at her, his large brown eyes still. Bea tried to fill the silence.

"I work very hard. I've done almost all the Plot Types, and certainly all the romances."

"But only Plot-watching?"

"Well, yes-"

"So you've never spoken to a character?"

"...No. But I could. They all want to be in a story."

"And what about you?" Mistasinon asked, but before Bea could answer he waved the question away. "You were born in the Sheltering Forest?"

"Does that matter?"

"Not to me. Difficult time to try and make it in the big city though. I also understand that you took matters into your own hands. With the Plot."

Bea froze.

"More than once it seems," Mistasinon continued, "though the Book you handed to my colleague at the Grand seems to represent your masterwork. Did that particular story require what I can only describe as a wall of thorns?"