Swan Knight's Son

by John C. Wright

  “Do you have a name?” said Gil. “Or should I just call you Chatterbox?”

  “I am of the Vespertine. You can call me Nerea.”

  “Nerea.” He rather liked her name. “Nerea, if I may ask–”

  “What is it?”

  “–are you human?”

  “Well!” she replied. He could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “What kind of question is that?”

  “It is just that, well, you cannot be a camper, and you can hold your breath for so long, and there are no parents driving you here in a station wagon or anything, but you have jewelry and gold that most girls from North Carolina don’t have. So I thought you weren’t human.”

  “I cannot hold my breath very long.”

  “When you were swimming, you did not surface for fifteen minutes. Even a pearl diver cannot do that.”

  Nerea said, “I don’t see how– eh?– well, now you’ve confounded me! What makes you think I was holding my breath while I was under water? I was breathing just fine. There! All done!” And she slapped him on the back.

  There was no pain at all. He stood, craning his neck to try to see his own back. He reached around behind him with his arm and felt with his fingers. There were no tender spots nor bruises, and the long savage cuts had vanished. He felt no scars either.

  He looked down at where she knelt. She had placed her purse on the stone and unfolded it into a larger shape and was tucking the little clamshell away. He wondered if his eyes were deceiving him because the folds of the purse fit into a smaller space than should have been possible.

  “What kind of ointment is that?” he asked.

  “It is made from the glands of a kraken who dies on Christmas Day and from the venom in the tooth of a sea serpent, mingled with mephitic and chthonic fumes that leak from the sub-sea volcanoes standing over the ruins of Atlantis, whose walls and fanes of gold and orichalchum the sea cannot corrupt. My father mingles it.”

  “You’re a mermaid!”

  She looked up and squinted. “You are a strange one! What strange things you say!”

  He said, “My name is Gilberec Moth.”

  She nodded, but her eyes were not on him. She took out of her purse some phials made of ruby in which glowworms writhed, and other small glittering objects he did not recognize, such as an orb of luminous crystal and a gold instrument smaller than a pocketwatch. Then, she put them back in again and folded the purse flaps once more, as if trying to get her gear to nestle properly.

  “I know who you are,” she said absentmindedly. “I was looking for you.”

  “Looking for m– why?”

  “We are cousins. No one in the family knows you are alive, but me.” She took up the purse and its belt and buckled it around her waist and thigh once more.

  “What family?”

  She looked up, a look of surprise on her features. “If your mother did not tell you, I am not sure if I should say anything. She is known to be wise, so she must have a reason.”

  “Do you know who my father is?”

  Nerea shook her head. “No one knows that.”

  “What about my grandfather?”

  Nerea cocked her head to one side, a gesture oddly similar to Ruff’s. “I did not forget him. Pelenore of Listenoise.”

  “What?”

  “Pelenore Moth. He is the father of Dandrenor the Grail Maiden. Didn’t you hear me? And Pelenore is the father of Elyezer, Elaine, and Ygraine. It is important whenever you meet another cousin, always to give your lineage, to see how close you are. We share a great-grandfather, which makes us second cousins.”

  “Then you are a member of the Moth family.”

  She squinted, which made her eyes glitter like amber. “You– it is very creepy that you did not know that. Your mother told you nothing? I had better not say anything either. She might—who knows?—hit me over the head with a riddle or something.”

  If Gil had entertained a doubt that this mermaid girl knew his Mom, the doubt evaporated at that moment. “At least tell me what I am! Who I am? Who are the Moths? And don’t just tell me that we are everywhere and get into everything. I already heard that!”

  She seemed frightened by his intensity, but there was also pity in her eye. Nervously, she looked over her shoulders to the left and right, as if she feared eavesdroppers, but then she shrugged. “I suppose I could tell you that. Very well! The Moth Clan is the largest in the world, the largest of all time. You have relatives in all the worlds. Fairies and Phantoms, Elfs and Efts, Woodwoses and Wolfensarks, Verminlings and Vampires, Lamia and Lilim, Mermaids and Monsters of the Sea, all roam the world unseen of Men. And there are branches of the family who married all of them.”

  Gil was confused. “What does that all mean?”

  “It means the Family always takes care of its own,” said she, and there was a prim but solemn note in her voice. “No one else will help us. The humans fear us for our elfin blood, and the elfs mock us for our mortal blood. We do not take part in feuds between the other talking races that escaped when Atlantis sank, because we have blood kin on every side of their quarrels. So we belong truly to no world. But we have kin in all.”

  “You mean worlds like in outer space? Mars and Venus and so on?”

  “No. My cousin Mathonwy Moth, who is the greatest sorcerer of our generation, says no one lives on those frozen or boiling orbs except the ghosts of long-dead and monstrous civilizations, utterly given over to evil, whose graves and prisons must never be disturbed. My cousin Tomorrow Moth—everyone calls him Tom—flew once to the dark side of the moon, to the haunted ruins, in his father’s aether-ship made of Cavor alloy mined from Laputa, greatest of the sky islands. Tom returned, but possessed by a morbid phantasm from outer space, and strange voices spoke from his mouth. He had to be saved by my gentle cousin Matthias, who is learning the art of quelling ghosts from a Holy Father.”

  Gil scowled. “So I have cousins who are mermaids and sorcerers, space pilots and ghostbusters, and I get to live in a cave, unemployed, in North Carolina?”

  Nerea shook her head energetically. “Tom stole the aether ship! He is a very naughty lad! To venture into the upper void is forbidden. No Moths live there. When I speak of other worlds where we sojourn, I mean worlds like in the other hemisphere beyond the human two or the deeper levels of the mist. Lands of dream or death, or elflands or ogrelands. Places like that. Undersea. The Night World. You have the second sight, so you can see things that are not fully in the world of Daylight, the World of Men. Do you understand?”

  “Not really,” said Gil, perhaps a little crossly.

  “We have the best family ever and the biggest. We get into everywhere.”

  “Why don’t you have a fish’s tail if you are a mermaid?”

  She said, “I have a fake tail I can wear like a skirt on formal occasions.”

  “Why do you need a fake tail?”

  “Like you, I am half and half. That is why I have to wear spectacles. I cannot see in the darkness far below the waves as well as my sisters. I also need my mermaid cap to breathe water.”

  “What keeps your glasses on your face when you dive or swim?”

  “That is a dumb question.”

  “I am a dumb kid, and likely to stay dumb if no one answers my questions. What keeps them on your face?”

  “Magic.”

  “What kind of magic?”

  “Sea magic.”

  “What kind is that?”

  “The kind that asks the elements of the world pretty please not to knock my glasses off my nose when I dive or swim.”

  “Why do the elements listen to the charm?”

  “Because it’s magic! I don’t know. Why do animals listen to you?”

  “I don’t know.” But then he frowned. Hadn’t Ruff said something to him earlier this week about that? “Something to do with love.”

  She smiled a smug smile and nodded. “All good magic ultimately boils down to love. My cousin Mathonwy told me that! He is a magician.”


  “Do you know any magic?”

  She shook her head. “I know it is dangerous. If you traffic or talk with dark powers, they come to live with you, in your house, whether you know it or not. And even the good magic is unlawful for true humans. There are some things people like us are allowed to do if we are discreet, but there is always a price. Even something as simple as never losing your glasses.”

  “People like us?”

  “The Twilight Folk. We are neither of Dark nor Day. The Moths are the most numerous, and we are attracted to the light; the Cobwebs to the darkness. There are two other great families, the Peaseblossoms and the Mustardseeds, and several lesser ones, such as the Smithwicks. Twilights can interbreed with Daylights, and their children possess the second sight or selkie blood.”

  “Daylights are normal humans?”

  “Yes. In times of old, certain noble families or doomed heroes were children of Melusine or serpent queens or pagan gods. Some of their descendants are also counted as Twilightish. The purebred selkie or elfs look down on us. Even the sad pagan gods look down, what few are left. In their worlds, we can only be servants and menials. But in a way, we have the best of both worlds because we can travel, explore, and invent like men of the Day world do and also work some magic like elfs of the Night world and behold their unearthly splendors and get away with it.”

  “There is a door in my house I want to open. It follows my Mom and me around when we move. It leads to an attic that is not there. Can you open it?”

  Nerea shook her head and shrugged. “I don’t know anything about such doors. I mean, I know they exist, but that is an elf magic. They open and close according to the times and seasons and the stars, into places that were left over after the first garden was destroyed.”

  “Left over?”

  “The cosmos is a made thing.” She raised one arm and pointed at the mountains, trees, grass underfoot, great blue dome of the sky overhead. “All of it. All this. An artifact, built like a house is built. The Sons of Israel were told the name of the builder, but they never wrote it down. When all the paths to the first garden were blocked and the mountain on which it stood was thrown into the sea and lost, the whole world was jarred off its axis, and many things originally meant for joy turned into pests and plagues. The world started to age and fall apart. There were passages like servants’ corridors hidden in a house where those dread powers tasked with the construction (and, now that it was marred, the repair) of the many chambers and mansions of the house were allowed to walk. These corridors were hidden behind secret doors or unsolid walls. The stars turn and keep the time, and the doors open and close.”

  “A bird told me you knew how to open a door like this.”

  “Not like this.”

  “How is it unlike?”

  “The door you describe is controlled by the stars. We of Undersea know little about the stars. Our magic is of the whalesong and raging waves, of far horizons and of the deep where winds do not blow and sunbeams not reach. The Sea Fairies have different doors and different paths we swim. The star magic is not for us. The elfs have no charms against drowning in the waters, and only thus are we free from their wicked meddling.”

  “But you can open your door?”

  “It is controlled by the tides. Yes. There is a passage leading from certain unhallowed ground nearby to a river in the dreamworld, which leads past gates of horn and ivory into the Witch City of Ys, and from there into Cantriff Gwylodd and Aegai and the lands beneath the sea. But the passwords I have for the one door I know will not work on any others. And I cannot make the doors move from here to there, as yours can do. That sounds like magic of the highest and most ancient blood to me. So, I answered your questions, you admit, cousin Gilberec?”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “But I have more. Lots more.”

  She held up a slender finger and gave him a look of mock sternness. “Fair is fair!”

  “What is your question?”

  Nerea Moth pointed at something Gil could not see. Then, he realized she was gesturing toward his cave.

  “I am going to have to bring that cot back tomorrow,” he said.

  She said, “That is not my question. What is all this? What are you doing? Why are you living in the woods? With a bear? And letting him pummel you?”

  “He is teaching me how to be a knight.” He peered at her. “You are not laughing. You do not think being a knight is ridiculous?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I do not know how surface dwellers do things, but being squire to a bear seems perfectly reasonable to me. You can never be a squire to an elf because you are a Moth and thus of mixed and impure blood. Although I had heard that in cases like this, the teacher is never seen, and the prentice is supposed to give him a bowl of cream on the doorstep every night. And make him a new suit of clothing before Michaelmas.”

  “You know when Michaelmas is?”

  “Of course. Didn’t anyone ever teach you the calendar?”

  “Apparently not.”

  “How did you squire yourself to a bear?”

  “I was looking for a job. A trade. You know, when you do work for money….”

  She nodded. “I know. We have toil and trade in Undersea. My father ran an apothecary shop before he became the court physician to Queen Amphitrite.”

  “Sorry. I am used to talking to animals.”

  “But being squired to a bear is not a trade.”

  “I am not his squire. In fact, I think he is having second thoughts about training me.”

  “Well, of course. The squire owes fealty to his knight and liege, and it is a lifelong bond. Your bear probably cannot carry out his side of the bargain. I guess he is having trouble finding you arms and armor and a horse and such.”

  “You seem to know a lot about knights,” he said.

  The comment clearly pleased her because she looked down and smiled and said, “Oh, no, not really.”

  “Is knighthood still around in your world? Can I go there?”

  She shook her head. “There are indeed knights in Undersea, and they are terrifying to behold because their weapons are typhoons. Our knights ride in coracles of shell, in chariots drawn by the hippocampus, or go upon the backs of war-trained whales in barding and plate like unto an ironclad, or in towers built upon the spine or brow of the mighty sea-serpent. You cannot go, not unless you learn to breathe water. And if I may ask…?”

  “Go ahead. Fair is fair.”

  “Why do you want to be a knight?”

  Gil did not need to pause to find words. “Because my Mom and I have lived in some pretty poor places, and in some pretty bad neighborhoods, but I never saw one which would not have been better if the people had helped each other out more. Usually, poor people do that, and a lot more than the fatter and happier people I’ve seen. But if they cannot trust each other, they stop. Stop helping each other, I mean. And if they prey on each other like wolves eating rabbits, they cannot trust each other. Every place I’ve lived, from California to Utah to here, if there were only someone to beat up the strong and protect the weak, then the neighborhoods would not be so bad, and the poor would not be so poor. It is as simple as that.”

  She said, “Why don’t you go to where the knights are? They will scorn you because of your mixed blood, but if you watch them unseen, from a hidden covert, perhaps you can learn their arts. This can tell you more of their mysteries than any bear.”

  Gil said, “Real knights? In this world?”

  “Somewhat.”

  “Do you know where they are found?”

  Nerea Moth nodded eagerly. “The summer knights and winter knights shall meet in tourney over by Brown Mountain on Lammas Day. I know not the causes of the dispute, but the Summer King and Winter King both fear a general war would shatter the world, and so have agreed to allow heaven to judge the outcome of their quarrel by the omen of the tournament. However, if you come, you must be very stealthy and subtle of foot! The Night Folk are not to be trifled with!”
>
  But then she straightened up and pulled her glasses over her eyes. There was a click of noise from the lenses, and they both rotated and changed from silver-white to rose red. Then, the lenses clicked again and became a vibrant blue.

  “The pooka returns; I see his heat patterns. Do not tell him we talked, please! I might get in trouble.”

  The warm sensation from his back now seemed to enter into his heart. “Miss, if you are in trouble, I will protect you.”

  She touched him shyly on the cheek with her hand. “That is sweet, but this is something that needs your silence to protect me, not your strength. Can you offer me that?”

  “But you said the Moths always looked out for each other. I can be silent. I promise.”

  “Then don’t tell the pooka that we spoke or where we are going. I will return when the day is right and not before. Don’t bring the pooka with us! He is of them! More than a moon must pass before we meet again.”

  Gil said, “More than a month!”

  She smiled archly.

  Gil was not sure why she was so pleased.

  “I return Lammas Eve,” she said. “On the night of the Feast of Saint Calimerius, who protects against droughts, and so he is beloved, along with Nicholas, of the sea people. Look for me then!” She waded from the shore into the deeper water, dove, and vanished.

  “Wait!” Gil called after her. “What date is that on the real calendar?”

  5. The Pooka

  A few moments later, Ruff came bounding through the reeds and tall grass to the little patch of beach. “Hi! Hi! Your Mom says you have to come with her to church tomorrow because it is Sunday. Sunday is tomorrow. And she is glad you are not dead. Also, remember to eat vegetables and not just fish. And change your underwear every day. I think that is it. Oh! Oh! There is one more. She loves you. I told her you found a job wrestling bears and had your own place to stay. I don’t think she understood what I said, so I kind of had to act it out with pantomime. She said you have to dig a proper latrine and smother your campfires completely. Uh! Uh! I think that is it.”

  Gil said, “Ruff? What is a Pooka? I have never heard the word before.”