Page 120 of Velveteen vs. The Consequences of Her Actions

“Nope,” said the Princess, after a momentary pause. “They must be the owls that lady was yelling about.”

“Is the Park being attacked by owls?” asked Tag, dubiously.

“Stranger things have happened, sweetie, says the woman in the weaponized attack ball gown to the man who was dead two hours ago,” said the Princess, like it was the most reasonable thing in world.

Tag just laughed, shaking his head a little helplessly. Velveteen glanced over at him, and he looked back at her, smiling a meltingly sincere smile. She returned it, the carpet dipping a little lower in the air to avoid attracting the attention of the owls. He was back. He was awake and alive and now they were going to have to figure out what came next, because she was pretty sure he was her responsibility, at least until they had him reestablished as legally alive.

Somehow, the idea of dealing with all that paperwork seemed absolutely wonderful.

A jet of rainbow-swirled glitter blasted past them, narrowly missing the carpet. Velveteen yelped and the carpet swerved. “That’s Polychrome!” she shouted. “We’re going the right way!”

“Picked up on that from all the owls,” shouted the Princess. “Watch out!”

Owls, both larger and smaller than Velveteen had ever imagined, began dive-bombing them as they floated toward the ground. She grabbed the edge of the carpet, going into a series of evasive maneuvers to keep the feathery sacks of knives and rage from slamming into them. The Princess rode serene and untroubled, while Tag scrambled to recover his grip.

“Vel!” he yelled, a note of panic in his voice.

She glanced over, seeing how close he was to the edge, and paled, sending the carpet into an immediate nosedive. The owls pulled up, apparently thinking they had defeated their prey, and the carpet came to a stop only a few inches above the ground. Tag sat up, looking like he was on the verge of losing the lunch he’d eaten so very long before, and Velveteen lunged for him, wrapping him in an embrace that sent them both tumbling off the carpet to the pavement.

“Um,” said Tag, blinking up at her. “Hi.”

“You do not get to die again!” she snapped.

“This is sweet and all, but we’ve got a bigger turkey to roast,” said the Princess.

Both of them turned to see what she was talking about. Roughly ten yards away, Victory Anna was facing off with a woman in a feathered bodysuit. She had one of her ever-present ray guns in her hands, bracing it against her hip as she fired. The woman was blocking her blasts with shields of feathers summoned from the ground, occasionally using one taloned hand to direct a wave of owls in the gadgeteer’s direction. Overhead, Polychrome seemed to have her hands full with the bulk of the owls.

“That’s new,” said Tag, pushing free of Velveteen’s arms and climbing to his feet, turning to offer her a hand up. “Recognize the weird villain lady?”

“No,” said Velveteen.

“I do,” said the Princess. “That’s The Parliamentarian—capital ‘T’ essential. She’s an ecovillain. Wants to see humanity brought low for what we’ve done to her precious owls.”

“Not another ecovillain,” groaned Velveteen. “We just got rid of Doctor Darwin!”

“Oh, no, sweetie. She’s not out to turn humans into owls or anything like that. She just wants us all dead.”

“Not an improvement!”

The owls had noticed them. Screeching, they began to dive toward the trio. The Princess waved a hand, almost lazily, and an opposing wall of corvids and raptors came soaring out of the nearby trees, meeting the owls in midair. Velveteen, meanwhile, was visibly concentrating. Dolls and plush toys began pouring out of the nearby souvenir shops, some moving to surround her feet, others climbing onto the flying carpet.

As soon as the carpet was fully laden, it rose into the air and then banked sharply upward, the teddies and fashion dolls it carried grinning feral grins at the owls.

Tag pulled out his marker and began drawing cages, quick, irregular things that he pulled into the solid world as quickly as they were finished, stacking them in ranks around him. He threw one to Velveteen, who tossed it to the Princess, who held it up until a hawk could swoop down and carry it away.

“This is gonna get real silly before it gets any better,” she said.

“Oh, we know,” said Tag.

“Just checking.” The Princess squinted at The Parliamentarian. “Wish we had a few more of our physical crew here with us,” she commented, then raked her hands through the air in a grabbing and pulling motion, drawing them in toward her chest.

Overhead, about a quarter of the owls turned on their fellows, while the corvids and raptors continued to harry and strike. The flying carpet was gaining altitude, beginning to drop its payload of plush and plastic onto the birds from above. Even a large owl was a light owl, designed to carry off small to medium prey, and most of the birds the toys struck staggered under their weight. The ones that didn’t grabbed teddies out of the air with their talons, disemboweling them until foam and feathers drifted down in equal volume, a bloodless carnage.

Velveteen winced. She hated losing toys, and this was an ugly way for them to go. Still, she continued commanding them to attack, even as the Princess’s newly turncoat owls came flying down to land on the ground around her.

“Give it up, Parly!” she yelled. “You got owls, but I got eagles, and you’re damaging my Park!”

“Leave my birds alone!” The Parliamentarian howled back, unleashing another wave of owls on the group.