The Fire King

by Paul Crilley

  “Yess?” hissed the boy.

  “Um, I’m looking for Nimue. I have a message for her?”

  “I ssee.” The boy craned his neck to get a better look around the throne room. Then he pointed. “Over there. The table by the door.”

  Emily looked and saw the fey girl he was pointing at. “Thank you,” she said. “You’re very kind.”

  “Not a worry, I asssure you,” said the boy, turning back to watch the play.

  Emily, Jack, and Wren made their way through the crowd. When Emily pointed out Nimue to Jack, he sniggered with laughter.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Her. She doesn’t look like she’s over twenty.”

  “And?”

  “And how old is Merlin?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” said Emily primly, putting an extra burst of speed into her step, just in case Jack tried to explain to her exactly what he did mean.

  As they drew closer to Nimue, Emily could see why someone would fall in love with her. She looked like she belonged to the Tuatha de Danaan branch of fey, as she was tall and regal-looking, very similar to the guards Emily had seen standing at the throne room doors the time she had come here with Corrigan.

  Now, here’s hoping her story would work.

  “Excuse me.”

  Nimue didn’t hear her at first. Either that, or she was ignoring Emily.

  “Excuse me,” Emily said, rather louder this time.

  Nimue finally turned to look at her, and Emily was forced to reassess how old she looked. Her face may have been that of a twenty-year-old, but her eyes told a much different story. They held … a lot pain, Emily thought. Many regrets. They were not cruel eyes, like a lot of the other fey had. They weren’t distant. These eyes had been affected by the things they had seen.

  “Are you Nimue?”

  “I am. What do you want, little one?”

  “Um. I’m here from the court of the Spinster Queen? In Cornwall?” Emily had heard Corrigan speaking of this before, so she thought it would add a touch of authenticity.

  “I know where the Spinster Queen is from,” said Nimue wryly.

  “Of course. Sorry.” Emily hesitated. She had come up with a semblance of a story that involved being an emissary of the Spinster Queen, but as she looked into Nimue’s green eyes, Emily changed her mind. There was something there. Nimue didn’t seem like the other fey, untouched by life. There was something almost … human about Nimue. As if she embraced life, instead of holding herself aloof from it.

  “We need to talk to you about Merlin,” said Emily, praying that she wasn’t making a huge mistake. “There is great danger coming, and we need to release him. He’s the only one who can stop it.”

  “What are you doing?” whispered Jack fiercely.

  Emily didn’t answer. She was staring into Nimue’s eyes. She saw them narrow suspiciously, then clear slightly to show genuine interest.

  Nimue glanced around the crowded, noisy throne room. Her gaze came to rest on the Queen, watching the human actors on their small stage. Emily thought she was about to hand them over, but a second later she stood up.

  “Follow me,” she said.

  Nimue led them through a door at the rear of the throne room. She followed a passage that eventually led to a vast open space. Emily leaned over the balcony that circled the pathway, first looking up, then down. This must be the interior of the actual tree trunk, she thought. She could see balconies ringing the inner space all the way to the top and all the way to the bottom, each of them filled with fey.

  Nimue didn’t slow down to take in the view. She walked around the empty space and through another opening that fed onto a set of stairs. At the top of these steps was a smaller passage with doors opening off to either side. Nimue opened one of these doors and stepped inside. Emily, Jack, and Wren followed after, Emily thinking how clever she had been to stick to the truth rather than lie.

  So she was rather surprised when Nimue grabbed her by the arm and pressed a sharp bronze blade against her neck.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The Queen is gone. Long live the Queen.

  Nimue had led Emily, Jack, and Wren into a sitting room. As they entered, branches that had crisscrossed the wooden walls slowly unfolded and weaved together to form chairs.

  “You two,” said Nimue, speaking to Wren and Jack, who had frozen just inside the room as soon as the fey had drawn her knife. “Close the door and sit over there.” She gestured to two of these newly formed seats. Jack and Wren both hurried across and sat down.

  Nimue removed the knife from Emily’s neck and gave her a shove. “You, as well.”

  Emily rubbed her neck and sat down next to Jack.

  “Madam,” said Wren,“I assure you, we mean you no harm. We are here to avert a tragedy from unfolding, that’s all.”

  Nimue squinted at Wren. “You don’t speak like any goblin I’ve ever seen,” she said suspiciously.

  Wren straightened up in his chair. “I have to say, I take offense at that. Are you saying that simply because I look like a goblin I can’t be intelligent?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. And what do you mean ‘look like’ a goblin?”

  “Oh. Ah …”

  Emily sighed. She’d started with the truth. She may as well carry on with it. After all, it couldn’t get them into any more trouble, could it?

  “We’re not actually fey,” she said. “These are magical disguises so we could sneak into the tree.”

  “Explain.”

  “I already did. So we could ask you for help.”

  Nimue stared at them for some time. Finally, she shook her head. “I will not lie to you—you have me intrigued.”

  “We have information that a fey called Kelindria is going to try to take the throne from Queen Titania. She is also going to summon something called the Fire King, and this creature will set fire to London in an attempt to burn it to the ground. We’re not sure when this will happen, but definitely within the next few days.”

  There. That was as simply as Emily could put it.

  “How could you possibly know that?” asked Nimue.

  “Especially if it hasn’t happened yet? And you mentioned Merlin. What does he have to do with anything?”

  “Merlin is one of the few people who may be able to stop this creature. There is someone called the Raven King we think can help, but only Merlin knows how to summon him. From the stories we’ve been told, this Fire King is almost impossible to defeat. Once the fire gets going, he feeds on the flames, getting stronger and stronger as the fire spreads.”

  “Unless you happen to know how to stop him?” asked Wren.

  “No,” said Nimue thoughtfully. “But Titania might. I know of this Fire King. It is an elemental being. It doesn’t exist on this plane. It would be extremely foolish for anyone to summon such a thing. It won’t just stop at London. It will carry on until the whole of Britain is devoured. Why would Kelindria do such a thing? She might want the throne, but what would be the point if she had nothing left to rule over?”

  “Are you saying you believe us?” asked Jack.

  Nimue waved her hand in the air. “Oh, yes. We’ve known about Kelindria for a long time.”

  “Then why hasn’t the Queen done anything about her?” asked Wren.

  “We have no proof. Kelindria has many followers. If we simply arrested her, or killed her even, it would make her a martyr. She has never done anything to overtly challenge Titania. She is too clever for that.”

  Nimue sat in silence for a moment. “But why would she make a move now? Even with those who have pledged their allegiance to her, they are not enough. She would need a lot more followers for any attack to be successful. Or some kind of secret weapon.”

  “Like the Fire King?” asked Wren quietly.

  This time Nimue actually looked slightly worried. “We have plans,” she insisted. “There’s no way she would even get inside the tree.”

  But Emily
had suddenly thought of something else. “The Dagda.”

  “The Dagda? What of him?”

  “He’s a traitor. He must help her get into the tree.”

  “No, not him,” said Nimue.

  “Yes, him. Don’t ask us how we know, we just do.”

  Emily stood up. “You have to take us to Merlin. He can help. Whatever he did to you all those years ago … you can’t let that stand in the way of stopping Kelindria.”

  A look of confusion passed across Nimue’s face. “What are you talking about? What he did to me—Oh, of course. You are human. You have read the stories, yes? The legends about King Arthur and Merlin and the evil Nimue who stole his power and trapped him in a cave.” She cut her hand through the air. “Lies. All of it. There were perfectly good reasons for what happened to Merlin. And I’m afraid I do not have the authority to order his release.”

  “Then who does?” asked Wren. “Because whoever has such power is the one we should be speaking to.”

  Nimue nodded. “Yes, I agree.”

  “Oh.” Wren was surprised. “Really?”

  “Yes. So prepare yourself. You are about to meet the Queen.”

  Nimue led them along the corridors, heading back in the direction of the throne room. Jack walked next to Emily.

  “I really don’t like the way this is turning out,” he whispered fiercely. “We’re handing ourselves over to the enemy.”

  “Titania is not the enemy. From everything I’ve heard, she tried to keep the peace between the races. If anything, I think she’s the reason the humans and the fey haven’t wiped each other out by now. Remember what Cavanagh wrote in his diary? That she wanted things to remain the same. Maybe by telling Titania what we know, it will force her to arrest Kelindria. Have you thought about that? Maybe just by telling Nimue the truth, we can stop the Fire King from even being released.”

  Jack walked on in silence.

  “She has a point,” said Wren gently. “Avoidance of conflict is always the preferable solution to a problem.”

  “That’s what you say. I prefer the fight myself. Gets the blood pumping.”

  “You don’t really believe that, do you? Think how many people could die.”

  Jack’s shoulders slumped. “Fine. No, I don’t really believe that.” He shook his head bitterly. “Sometimes you’re just like my mother, you know that?”

  Emily blinked in surprise. Jack had never mentioned his family before, let alone his mother. Emily had always assumed that they were dead, that Jack was an orphan. But the way he spoke, it sounded as though she was still alive.

  Any chance of further conversation was cut short when Nimue turned into the passage that led into the throne room. Emily filed the information away, though. She would certainly be asking Jack about it at a later stage. If his parents were still alive—well, to put it mildly, Emily would have a few stern words for Jack Doyle. And if it was only his mother who was still alive, then Emily was going to box his ears for him. She might need his help, and here he was, running around London with his gang, calling himself ‘Spring-Heeled Jack’ as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  Nimue stopped before the door and turned to the others. “Follow me. Don’t speak until Titania says so. And be polite. No matter what you humans may think, she is our Queen and you will respect her.”

  Emily opened her mouth to respond to this statement in the same way she had answered Corrigan when he had told her to respect Merrian. But she managed to bite her tongue. It didn’t seem like a good idea to say something like, “I’ll not give her respect if she doesn’t earn it.”

  Nimue opened the door and the sounds of laughter and music once again flowed out to them. The play was still in full swing, the assembled fey entranced by the cavorting actors.

  The three of them followed Nimue up onto the dais at the back of the room. A few of the fey seated next to the Queen frowned at them, but it seemed that Nimue was well respected, as no one said anything to her. Emily cast a quick eye over the fey seated at the tables below the dais, but the Dagda was no longer there. That was a relief. She was worried about how they would speak to the Queen if he were there to listen. He was sure to interrupt if they accused him of being a traitor.

  Nimue leaned forward and whispered into the Queen’s ear. Titania turned to hear what was being said, the look of boredom leaving her face in an instant. Nimue talked for a few moments. The Queen’s eyes flickered over the three of them. Her flawless face creased with a frown. She muttered something to Nimue, then beckoned the three of them to approach her throne.

  She stared at them for some time. “I should have you arrested on the spot. Who do you think you are, invading our home in this way?”

  “Miss … Madam.”Emily was at a loss as to how to address a Faerie Queen. She settled on the familiar. “Your Highness. We had no choice. We aren’t doing this for ourselves. We’re trying to stop a terrible tragedy from occurring. And the only way to do that is for you to release Merlin.”

  “Yes. Nimue already said. The Fire King, you say? I really do find that hard to believe. There are only a few who have the knowledge to summon such a being, and I doubt they would be desperate or stupid enough to pass on such information.”

  Emily ground her teeth in frustration. She was facing the same problem she always faced when talking to adults. They refused to take her seriously. How could she make the Queen believe she was telling the truth?

  “What about the Morrigan,” said Jack suddenly. “Would she have the knowledge?”

  Titania’s eyes focused sharply on Jack. “The Morrigan? What do you know of the Bone Mother?”

  “Nothing,” said Jack, startled at the intensity of Titania’s response.

  “Are you saying that she and Kelindria are in league?”

  “That’s exactly what we are saying,” said Emily, wondering if Jack had found a way to get them to believe what they were saying. “We’ve been chased by the Morrigan and her knights. Attacked by her hounds. And hunted by Black Annis and Jenny Greenteeth. All while we’ve been trying to get this information to you.” A slight exaggeration, but under the circumstances, Emily thought it allowable.

  Nimue was looking more and more alarmed as Emily talked. She looked around the dais. “Where is the Dagda?” she asked. “They say he is part of the plan. That he is in league with Kelindria.”

  “No,” said Titania. “I won’t believe—”

  But she didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence, because at that moment the double doors of the throne room flew open, banging hard against the walls. All eyes turned in the direction of the sound.

  Kelindria was standing in the opening. It was the same Kelindria Emily had seen through the seeing stone, the withered old crone, not the beautiful redheaded queen. The Morrigan stood by her side, and the two of them could have been sisters, so similar did they look.

  The White Knight and the Dagda entered behind them, moving to either side.

  Titania surged to her feet. “Who dares trespass in my court?”

  Kelindria cackled, sending a shiver down Emily’s back. There was a touch of madness to her laugh. “Have I changed so much, sweet Titania? It is I, Kelindria. As to trespassing, how can one trespass in one’s own throne room?”

  “You presume too much, Kelindria. Guards. Take her.”

  There were ten Tuatha guards standing against the walls of the room. Four of them moved toward Kelindria, but they were stopped by the other six, who quickly moved to block their approach.

  Titania stared at the traitors in shock.

  “Yes, you haven’t really been as attentive as you should have been, have you?” asked Kelindria. The Morrigan chuckled.

  Emily had shuffled behind the throne as soon as Kelindria had entered the room, gesturing for the others to follow.

  “What do we do?” whispered Jack.

  “We have to get to Merlin. It’s our only chance now.”

  “But how?”

  Emily saw Titania reach
out and take hold of Nimue’s hand. The Queen forced something into Nimue’s grasp. Nimue closed her fingers around the object and dropped her arm to the side.

  “Just stay ready,” said Emily.

  Kelindria walked forward until she stood in the center of the room. The assembled fey shrank back from her, casting their gaze to the ground. Titania would get no help from them. They would follow the strongest leader, regardless of who it was.

  “How was your wine today?” asked Kelindria.

  Titania glanced involuntarily at the goblet that sat next to her throne. “Why?”

  “Didn’t taste odd? Maybe slightly sharp?”

  “What have you done?”

  “Poisoned you,” said Kelindria simply. A ripple of shock swept through the room. Kelindria threw an amused look at the fey. “Oh, don’t worry. As long as she obeys me, she will be fine.” Kelindria held up a small vial for Titania to inspect. “The antidote. Unless you are given a small amount every day, you will die.”

  Titania descended from the dais, her pale face furious. “Why not just kill me? Get it over with.”

  “Oh, you are much more useful to me alive. A guarantee, if you will. In case those of your supporters who survive the war still wish to disobey me.”

  “War? What war?”

  Kelindria held up a hand for silence. In the distance, Emily could hear faint shouting, screams of pain, anger, the clash and clack of weapons. Kelindria waited until all in the throne room had heard it. “That war.”

  Titania staggered, only just managing to stay upright. She glared at Kelindria. “You have brought ruin on us all. Your petty ambitions will be the end of the fey.”

  “On the contrary. I’m saving the fey. You have become too soft, Titania. London is our city. And after today, humankind will be burned away like the weeds they are. I will sit on a throne under the open air, and all around will bow before Queen Kelindria.”

  “You’re insane.”

  “No. I am a leader. Unlike you, perfectly willing to live like worms accepting scraps thrown at you by the humans.”

  Titania slapped Kelindria. The sound was like a pistol shot, echoing throughout the chamber. All eyes turned to Kelindria. A red handprint was clearly visible on her cheek.