PLATO'S STEP-DAUGHTER I FLYNN CARSEN

Pretty In Pink

Pretty In Pink

The one who insists he was first in the line
Is the last to remember her name
He's walking around in this dress that she wore
She is gone but the joke's the same...

Head reeling, Clara sat up with some difficulty, glitter dancing like diamonds in front of her eyes. From far away, she dimly realised they'd somehow returned to the Library, the knowledge not comforting Clara any. Beside her, Flynn whimpered like a wounded animal, whilst on the floor Jenkins was curled up into a ball, his arms wrapped around his head. Jacob just stood there, stunned, still clutching the wand, Ezekiel echoing him, even down to holding an imaginary wand. Only Archie showed the slightest sign of animation, kicking his heels for joy, scampering around the Annex, upsetting a table or twenty. To Clara's confusion, everyone seemed to exist in varying shades of pink.

In a daze, Clara stood up, only to be confronted by her exceedingly pink reflection in the mirror opposite. For a moment, she thought she glimpsed Judson doubled up with laughter, and then he was gone, leaving her alone with her unrecognizable appearance. She stood there, speechless, unable to comprehend her candyfloss coloured curls. Her toga had been turned the brightest shade of pink possible, somewhere between Barbie and even more Barbie. Even her teeth were pink, much to her horror.

"What the hell did you just do, Jacob?" she whispered, turning to him.

"It wasn't him, it was the wand," Jenkins almost wept. "It made him do it."

"How did the wand make him do it?" Clara asked, amazed to find herself so calm.

"Once upon a time, an infant fairy got hold of a toy wand," Flynn said brokenly as Jenkins finally broke down into tears, "and imbued it with its magic. I managed to get a hold of the wand before anymore damage could be done, but I was too late to reverse the wand's propensity for pink. It's one of the more... unusual side-effects of its powers."

"That doesn't answer my question," Clara said, still calm, still amazed at being calm.

"The wand sort of takes over whoever touches it," Flynn explained, raising his voice above Jenkins's sobs, "granting your wishes whilst granting its own. The infant fairy had a huge thing for the colour pink, desiring the entire world and everything within it to be pink, so the wand absorbed this wish, imbuing all subsequent wishes with this wish, and so when Jacob wished us free, he was wishing us pink at the same time."

Clara digested this piece of insanity in silence. "How can one little fairy cause so much damage?" she said, beginning to crack now.

"They're not cute little babies, Clara," Flynn flared up, "they have fangs that can rip your throat out at ten paces."

"Will this wear off?" Clara demanded, gesturing to her pink curls.

Flynn just shrugged his shoulders. He himself was working a hot pink suit fresh from Savile Row, his hair now pale pink and pomaded back. Jenkins's silver hair was streaked with magenta, making him look like a particularly flamboyant skunk, his loin-cloth now studded with glittery pink stars. Jacob's stubble was stained pink, his hair flecked with pink highlights, his boxers bright pink to match, but compared to Ezekiel, he'd gotten off lightly. Still sporting his floor-length beard, it was now just as pink as Jacob's boxers, matching his bushy eyebrows. Even his eyes were pink, giving him the odd lashless look of a rabbit.

"This is the best thing that's ever happened to me!" Archie crowed, still kicking his heels. He was pink all over, down to his hooves, his horns emblazoned with hot pink lovehearts.

"Well, at least someone's happy," Ezekiel croaked, as old as ever.

"This can't be happening," Clara muttered, now pacing the floor, trailing her toga behind her.

"It is," Flynn said, getting to his feet, "and the fun's only just beginning."

"Circe has something up her sleeve," Archie said, tossing his head back. "She's all... skittish."

"Wouldn't you be if all your exes turned up at once on your doorstep?" Flynn pointed out, wishing Jenkins would stop weeping.

"Hey, Jenkins got off lightly by only getting some lightning fired at him," Archie said acerbically. "She turned me into a goddamn goat for dumping her."

"She turned me into a bottle of milk," Flynn said nostalgically. "Judson nearly drank me, but Charlene stopped him just as he was about to unscrew my lid."

"She put me in a giant bird-cage," Ezekiel rasped, "and that was just for blinking."

"She keeps trying to kill me," Jacob said wearily, before turning a somersault. "I think she's trying to tell me something," he said, frowning, before doing a back-flip this time.

"You okay, Stone?" Flynn asked, his brow furrowing.

"Circe slipped something in his coffee," Clara explained, trying and failing to tear the tiara from her curls.

"Circe seems to have her finger in a lot of pies," Flynn said, his brow furrowing even further.

"She said she knew me," Clara said, making Flynn stiffen. "She kept calling me Guinevere."

"That's just her sense of humour," Flynn said hastily, not wanting to wander down that particular avenue. "What I'm saying is, Circe doesn't like spreading herself thin - usually she has someone to help her do the heavy lifting" -

- "Not when I knew her," Archie said incredulously. "Apart from calling in a few favours from the gods now and again, she liked to work alone. Circe does not like sharing the spotlight, oh Flynn of my femur."

"But her age is catching up with her now," Flynn pointed out. "Nowadays, she needs a little back-up."

'Serpent Brotherhood?" Clara suggested, passing Jenkins a tissue.

"Probably," Flynn said, shrugging his shoulder.

"Where am I?" Ezekiel suddenly rasped, startling them all. "Where did I put my walking stick? I want to hit your heads with it!"

"He has moments of clarity, but other than that, he's completely cuckoo," Clara explained, as Ezekiel started searching for his imaginary walking stick, Jacob joining him, the pair peering under tables and inside Wellington boots.

"Never mind them," Flynn said flippantly, flapping his hand. "We have to sort out Circe."

"Not like this," Clara said in disbelief, gesturing to herself.

"We can't wait until the spell wears off," Flynn said, "if it even does."

Clara just stared at him.

"First things first," Archie interjected, "we need to get that wand off Hot Stuff."

"I'll deal with that," Flynn said smoothly, "you lot deal with that Minotaur."

At this, Jenkins got to his bare feet, blowing his nose loud and long, sounding rather like he making a trumpet solo. "We need to use the back door," he said, casting his tissue into the wastepaper bin, ignoring its shriek. "It'll take you to where Eve and Cassandra are. From then on, you're on your own."

"No, no, no," Clara said, marching up to him. "You're not throwing us to the lions like that."

"I'm throwing you to the Minotaur actually," Jenkins said jovially, cheering up at the prospect.

"Same difference," Clara retorted, "and I know about your little payroll parlour trick as well."

Jenkins quailed a little at that, his conscience giving a treacherous twinge. He'd suspected Ezekiel had been lying, but he hadn't bothered to push it, accepting Ezekiel's explanation at face-value, since it suited him to stir up trouble for Jacob and Clara, disliking them a little bit more above the others. "Are you threatening me?" he said, standing his ground.

"No, I think you've suffered enough," Clara said grimly, gesturing to his roadkill hair. "Show us this back door."