Strangeness and Charm: The Courts of the Feyre

by Mike Shevdon

  "She can't be. Alex wouldn't associate with anyone like that," I protested

  "She's changed, Niall. She has tattoos all down her arms now, and wears her hair jet black. She probably calls herself Dementia or something."

  "She's just playing along with them."

  "No, Niall. She's one of them."

  Mullbrook arrived, bringing in two stewards with a makeshift stretcher made from a tabletop, which they guided down beside Fellstamp.

  "He hasn't moved since he was hit," said Fionh, watching them carefully lift him onto the low wooden platform. "I had to carry him down the Way."

  Naturally pale, his skin looked like it had been powdered white under the soot and the grime.

  "You need to rest," said Garvin. "When you feel up to it we'll get you cleaned up. You'll feel better when you've had some sleep."

  "I don't want sleep," she said. "I want revenge." She tried to push herself up, but Garvin rested his hand on her shoulder and gently pressed her back down.

  "That's why you're not going after them," Garvin said. "It'll take a cool head and careful planning. I'll take Amber and Tate. We'll do what needs to be done."

  "What about me?" I asked.

  Garvin looked up at me. "My instructions will be to kill on sight. I don't think I can ask you to do that, Niall."

  He paused.

  "Not when it's your own daughter."

  SEVENTEEN

  "We've got to do something!" I paced up and down in front of Blackbird. "They're going to kill her."

  "They'll have to find her first," said Blackbird, reasonably.

  "They've already found them once. How long before they give themselves away? This time they won't give them chance to draw breath. They'll just kill them all and have done with it, Alex included."

  "I thought Alex didn't do anything?"

  "She didn't. It's guilt by association. And when I said that to Garvin, he said that she didn't lift a finger to help them either."

  "That's no reason to kill someone."

  "That's what I said, but you know what Garvin's like."

  "Indeed I do," she remarked, "he thinks he's judge, jury and high executioner, and unfortunately he's not disabused of that by the High Court."

  "I have to try and find her." I said. I found myself dry-washing my hands, and stuck them in my pockets to stop myself.

  "Where would you start? You've been looking for her for days and you haven't found her yet. For that matter, how did Fellstamp and Fionh find them?"

  "They were tipped off. Apparently the building where they were squatting is part of a territory given to one of the fey in Teoth's Court. They were spotted entering and leaving and a complaint was raised with the courts. Garvin realised who it was that was disregarding territorial boundaries…"

  "…and sent Fionh and Fellstamp in heavy-handed," Blackbird finished.

  "Apparently Fellstamp took one of them hostage – sounds like he picked the wrong one."

  "And that worked out well, didn't it?" she said. "How is he?"

  "His condition hasn't changed. Half the female stewards are walking around as if they're in mourning, and the other half are looking as if they've had a lucky escape."

  "He's such a rogue."

  "You're smiling. Don't tell me you're smitten too?"

  "You have to admit, he is very charming," said Blackbird, off-handedly.

  "Not at the moment, he's not."

  "He'll come around, you'll see." She could see I was worried about him.

  "I hope so. I don't know what Garvin will do if he doesn't pull through. He's very protective of his people."

  "Apart from you," she said.

  "The same with me. Up to a point."

  "Quite."

  "I only seem to cause him trouble," I admitted.

  "And that's your fault, is it? You do this deliberately?"

  "Of course not."

  "Then he can hardly punish you for it, can he?" she said.

  "It's not me he's punishing."

  "Isn't it? He must know how you feel about them going after Alex. She is your daughter."

  "He knows, but it doesn't change anything. He says she's brought it on herself."

  "The excuse of the despot throughout history – they brought it on themselves; they forced my hand; they made me do it."

  "I have to find her," I repeated.

  "Perhaps there is a way. You said that this girl had a silver arrow with her?"

  "Yes, and a book."

  "Then it's time we went to see Gregor again. We know they have a key and a feather. Perhaps he can shed some light on what they're doing, and from that we might be able to figure out where they are before Garvin does."

  Alex was backed against the wall in the alley. "I didn't tell them anything, I swear." She looked from Eve, to Sparky, to Chipper, and back to Eve. "You can tell I'm not lying, dammit!"

  Sparky rubbed his neck thoughtfully. "They found us somehow, didn't they? And I damned near got my throat slit."

  Alex folded her arms. "So you automatically blame me."

  "You knew them," said Eve. "None of the rest of us knew them."

  "They're Warders, I told you. Everyone at the courts knows them, at least by reputation," said Alex.

  "But you know them personally," said Eve.

  "My dad works with them. He's sort of in the same bit of the courts. They all work for Garvin."

  "And what does Garvin do?"

  "Garvin's freaky. He's not quite right up here." Alex tapped her temple. "He makes my flesh crawl."

  "But what does he do?" asked Eve.

  "I told you, he leads the Warders, and they do the bidding

  of the courts. It's all about who's top dog and who's allied to whoever. The Lords and Ladies have absolute power, and what they say goes, but they don't necessarily agree with each other. When I went to see Kimlesh, she told me that I could join the Nymphine Court, but that meant accepting the rules and abiding by her rulings, and in return, she'll defend me from the others."

  "So she decides where you live and what you do?" asked Eve.

  "No, not exactly. You can live wherever you like, but if you get into a dispute with another fey, maybe you take something that belongs to someone, then the court will rule. Maybe you get to keep it, or maybe you give it back. It stops them killing each other."

  "And all of them are members?" asked Eve.

  "Pretty much. Except for us. They don't really know what to do with us. We're not human and we're not fey. There's a big debate over whether half-breeds should be able to join."

  "But Kimlesh offered to let you join her court?" said Sparky.

  "The Nymphine court is the only one I can join because my elements are water and air. Kimlesh wants the half-breeds to join the courts. It's her choice who joins and who doesn't, so if I join, it tips the balance, see? She gets what she wants. But the others, Teoth, Krane, some of the others, they're not opening up. If I joined, it could force their hand, and they won't like that."

  "So you ran away," said Eve.

  "I was leaving anyway," said Alex.

  "And they're following you because they want you to join, or because they don't?" asked Eve.

  "Both, I guess. Kimlesh says I can join because there's a precedent. Yonna admitted Blackbird to the court of Fey'ree years ago, so it's been done before. There were others, but most of them died when the Seventh Court betrayed the courts and killed all the half-breeds they could find. There are supposed to be a few of the older ones dotted about, but most of them are in hiding."

  "So they're killing the half-breeds, even the ones that are part of the courts?" said Eve.

  "That's the Seventh Court, the Wraithkin. They're different. They don't like any of the half-breeds. They don't think we should exist."

  "But the Seventh Court are part of the courts?"

  "Yeah," said Alex, "I guess. They're the seventh one."

  "I still don't get how they found us," said Sparky.

  "They found us becau
se they're hunting us," said Eve. "And if they catch us, they'll kill us."

  "I don't think Fellstamp would have hurt you," said Alex. "He's not like that really. He was just trying to take control."

  "They'll kill us when they find us," said Eve, "or they'll take us back to their courts and kill us there – if the Seventh Court don't kill us first."

  "It's not that clear cut," said Alex.

  "No," said Eve. "But it's what will happen. Whether it's an accident or on purpose, the outcome is the same. We can't afford for them to find us again. Take off your clothes."

  "My what?" said Alex.

  "Your clothes. Take them off," said Eve. Chipper smiled slightly. Sparky openly grinned.

  "No! I'm not stripping for you or anyone else."

  "They found you somehow, Alex. They did it once so they can do it again. They could be tracking you through your clothes, your jewellery, anything. You have to get rid of them."

  "I stole my clothes," said Alex. "Even my underwear is new."

  "Do you have anything from you past life?" asked Eve.

  "No," said Alex, putting her hand behind her back.

  They all heard the lie.

  "Give it to me," said Eve.

  "It's nothing. It's such a small thing. They can't be tracking me with that."

  "Give." Eve held her hand out.

  Alex shook her head, but Eve moved in swiftly, grabbing her hair and her arm, twisting her around and pressing her against the wall.

  "No! You can't have it! It's mine!"

  Alex balled her fist so that the ring was tight on her finger, but Eve twisted it behind her, pushing her into the wall and prying her fingers apart. The ring was stripped from Alex's finger.

  Alex screamed, "No! No! No! No!" She twisted and fought to get free.

  Eve tossed the ring to Chipper. "Stamp on it."

  Chipper caught it and put it carefully on the floor, resting it under his trainer and then leaned his weight on it, while Alex screamed in Eve's grip. The ring twisted and bent, then folded in half. He stomped on it twice for good measure, breaking it into two pieces. He picked up the pieces and threw them down the alley.

  Alex sobbed, taking great gulps of air and wailing.

  "Grow up, little girl," said Eve. "You have no family but us. You have no friends but us. We are everything you have and don't you forget it. When we change the world none of this will matter. Then you'll thank me."

  Eve let her go and Alex stumbled away, screaming abuse at those behind her, but knowing in her heart that she had nowhere else to go.

  • • • •

  "A library? Why does he want to meet in a library?" I asked Blackbird. "What's he going to do, stick a pin in an atlas? Borrow the Observer Book of Strange Rituals?"

  "It's not the sort of library that lends books."

  We were walking down Euston Road, the constant roar of motorbikes and the growl of taxis and buses almost drowning out our words as the traffic stop-started its way along one of London's busiest thoroughfares.

  "What's the point of a library that doesn't lend books?" I asked.

  "It's a hidden library," said Blackbird, "and it has a copy of almost every book that's ever been published, including some extremely rare volumes. When I spoke to Gregor on the phone he said to meet him here. He has a reader's ticket."

  "You need a ticket to read books?"

  "You do when they're as rare as these."

  We turned through huge iron gates that sang with a discordant note that made me pass as far from each of them as I could. Blackbird ignored them and we walked through to a huge courtyard in front of a monolithic block building that looked like a modernised version of a 1930s movie set. A huge clock adorned the frontage.

  "Is that it?" I asked.

  "The British Library," said Blackbird, "or at least the bit you can see."

  "Where's the rest of it?" I asked.

  "You're standing on it."

  I looked at the paving that stretched away around the building. "Below this is just books?"

  "Not just books, no. Manuscripts, maps, documents, scrolls. This is a palace dedicated to the written word. Beneath our feet are rows and rows of shelves, and beneath that, the same, and below that more and so on, downwards. You should come and walk around the galleries one day. The public exhibits are worth seeing."

  "Let's find Gregor and see what he wants to show us," I said.

  He was waiting for us on the upper floor, where he rushed over to greet us as we stepped off the escalator.

  "Veronica, it is simply wonderful to see you again. Is it not a truly marvellous building; such architecture, such vision."

  He gestured around us, then grabbed my hand and shook it enthusiastically. "You must be so proud to be a part of a nation that builds such wonders, yes?"

  "I suppose?" I said.

  "Ah, always the citizens do not see the wonders around them. You take them for granted until they are taken from you. Only then do you discover what you have lost." His moustache wobbled from side to side in disapproval.

  "And what have we lost?" asked Blackbird.

  "Come," he said. "I wish you meet Julian. He will tell you the story, just as he told it to me."

  He asked each of us to wear yellow Visitor badges and then led the way through to the back of the building, through a door into offices away from the public space. We got a few suspicious glances, but Gregor flashed an orange badge at them and we were allowed to pass. We came to a small office. Inside a thin man in a grey shirt with a black tie looked up at our approach.

  "Julian, this is Veronica and her friend, Niall. They are interested in the book I asked you about."

  "We are?" I said.

  "I am," said Blackbird, extending her hand. "Veronica Delemere, formerly in Medieval History at Birkbeck."

  He took the outstretched hand and smiled. "I think we have one or two of your books here, Dr. Delemere."

  "Really? How charming," she said. They all smiled, ignoring me. I was just a friend, apparently, and not worthy of attention.

  "The book, Julian. Tell them," said Gregor.

  He looked up at Gregor. "Ah yes. Well, a bit of an embarrassment, really. We're not used to this kind of thing."

  "What kind of thing?" asked Blackbird.

  "It seems that someone has borrowed it," he explained.

  "You see," I said. "They do lend books out."

  "What Julian is saying," said Gregor, "is that the book has been stolen."

  "Is that possible?" asked Blackbird.

  "Ordinarily, no," Julian confirmed. "We have inserts in every book that will set off detectors at any exit. You can't even walk out with one by accident. In addition, the staff are spot-checked randomly to discourage anyone with ideas of taking anything; a necessary evil."

  "That seems a lot of security for a load of old books," I said.

  He glanced at Blackbird and Gregor. "You have no idea. We have the first draft manuscript of Thomas Hardy's Tess of the D'Urbervilles here. There are copies here of the Lindisfarne Gospels."

  "If they're only copies then surely they are not worth much?" I knew I was flaunting my ignorance, but the snooty attitude was annoying. I wanted to rattle his cage a little and butt into the conversation.

  "Well, if you consider that they were copied by hand in the year 687, you might revise your opinion," he said.

  "How much?" I asked, rubbing my finger and thumb together.

  "Priceless," Gregor said, "and completely irreplaceable."

  "Priceless generally has a price, though, doesn't it?"

  "They are not for sale," said Julian, "but a stolen copy would be worth millions to a private collector. Of course, when such a work is so readily identifiable, the collector could never show it to anyone, but then such people rarely have any interest in other people. And that's just one work. The library has many such items."

  "So your security is set up accordingly?" I asked.

  "There have been attempted thefts before," sai
d Gregor, "and though some have escaped with their liberty, they have left empty-handed."