The Innkeeper

Tinker was pressed against the base of her cage as it flew out with the raging lava, breaking through the many barriers in its path, until eventually it reached the open air of hell. The volcanic plume rose 3000 miles in the air, or roughly 15.84 million rice cookers. So, it was easy to say that the eruption was clearly visible across the landscape, attracting a lot of attention.

But Tinker didn’t think of any of that as she laughed out manically in her cage. Her body was burning, albeit much slower than Jacks had been, but she didn’t bother with that either.

So much worse than the endless torture she had faced was the hopelessness that filled her very being as she thought about the fate of her race. But when she saw Jack, a kindle of hope had been reignited.

He was heroic, or brave, or awe-inspiring, as one would expect from someone with the potential to rescue an entire race. Instead, he was deceptively intelligent, yet used that intelligence to fuel his idiotic tendencies. But maybe, that’s what the fairies needed. After all, they were not brutes who needed the brawn to hold off a charge of enemy armies. They were fairies, the mischievous and joyful little fellows who treated the universe like they’re playground.

Tinker got up and flapped her wings a bit, producing some fairy dust. But it was faint, as if nearly exhausted. Or maybe, it just needed a little push.

Tinker looked at the pillar of lava that was still rising in the air, and the spreading devastation the eruption had caused.

"Talk about coming back with a bang," she said, her sweet, melodious voice carrying far and wide across hell. Then, from up in the sky, she saw hell itself shudder. Simultaneously, her wings began to produce fairy dust once more.

A twinkle sparkled in her eyes.

*****