by Sarah Rayne
A number of people thought that perhaps Madame had already taken her twin lovers off to her bedchamber, but then others said, no, there were the twins, on the other side of the Aurora Hall, as perplexed as everyone else.
A buzz of consternation started up and then, without warning, Madame was with them, swishing in through the great crystal doors that led out to the gardens, sweeping across the golden floor of the Banqueting Hall with the flames of her gown sizzling, and shafts of light streaming from her eyes.
Everyone dodged out of range, because a shaft of light could inflict quite surprising damage, and it was perfectly plain that Madame was in one of her tantrums.
Reflection stood in the centre of the glittering golden Aurora Hall, directly beneath the great, ruby-studded chandelier, and the musicians faltered into silence and everybody looked at everybody else and most people tried to think who might have incurred Madame’s displeasure, but nobody could think who had.
Reflection said, in strident tones, ‘Where is my daughter?’ and people looked anxiously around for Flame, who was not to be seen.
‘And where,’ said Reflection, glaring across at Snodgrass, ‘is the other traveller to whom I have extended my generous hospitality?’ But Snodgrass, who had fallen in with several of the bailiffs, had not noticed that Floy had disappeared. He had been listening to the bailiffs who were telling him about Reflection’s numerous and gargantuan debts and he had been so interested that he had not seen Floy and Flame vanish into the gardens.
‘I haven’t the least idea,’ he said, and belatedly added, ‘Madame,’ which was what the bailiffs had said Reflection liked to be called.
Reflection’s people, who knew their mistress very well indeed, guessed what had happened. They might even have breathed a sigh of relief, if Madame’s tantrums were not something to be so earnestly avoided. Flame, naughty child, had for once caught the eye of one of Madame’s young men and Madame was in a high old rage as a result. Well, there would be no escaping some very nasty fate or other for the young man — and probably there would be something very unpleasant ahead for Flame as well, saucy minx.
‘Out into the gardens and find them!’ cried Reflection and, as she turned on her heel, she appeared to grow in stature and become a whirling column of fire, so that she towered above the guests and the people of the Court.
The flames of her gown sizzled and spat and the smoky dark cloak billowed. Everyone began to walk stealthily backwards from her, because they all knew what happened when Madame whipped herself into one of her famous fire-rages. They all remembered the last time it had happened, when the fire demons had nearly broken from her restraints and a number of the Court had fallen under their malevolent sorcery and been forced to dance the terrible Fire Frenzy of the Demons to exhaustion point, until Madame had managed to imprison them again.
But they went out at once, rushing into the cold night air, and Madame stood at the centre of the walled rose garden with the silver and crystal fountain and the fire column swirling angrily, and pronounced a stream of apparently meaningless words. Shafts of light streamed from her fingertips and the terrible dark circle that would pen the fire demons appeared. The Court backed away all over again, because didn’t they all recognise the immense circle of sorcery which was supposed to hold the demons penned within it, but which did not always do so. But there the circle was, glinting redly, and there, within minutes — the bailiffs said it was within seconds — were the fire demons.
And there, presiding over the demons, was Madame, in the worst temper anyone had ever known.
The walled rose garden with the pouring crystal fountain, once Reflection’s pride and delight, and once the favourite place of the Court for summer evening assignations, was at once transformed into a raging ferment of noise and fury and panic and spitting crimson fire.
The demons were leaping and dancing within the dark circle and chuckling and reaching out to the people of the Court, brandishing their horrid white-hot tridents. They seemed to be unable to break out of the circle, but no one was taking any chances about this. And in any case, the demons could still fling their spears a remarkably long distance, and they could still hurl the sizzling firethorns which embedded in people’s flesh and skin, and which inflicted agonising burns for days afterwards.
None of the demons was more than two feet in height and they were coal black, with rounded, hairless skulls and huge pointed ears. They had long, twitching tails and their fingers ended in barbed, clawlike hands. Their eyes glowed redly, like living coals, and they had evil, toothless mouths, which grinned and leered as they danced and leapt to and fro, seeking a weak place in Reflection’s circle. The Court drew back at once, because you could not altogether trust Madame’s circles, and you especially could not trust the ones she created in a tantrum.
Reflection stood with her arms outstretched, the silver fountain directly behind her, her brow dark with blazing fury. The light became flooded with dark red and the demons climbed into the fountainhead and jabbed their fiery talons into the shimmering cascade, so that the water became a pouring crimson mass. Fire sparks flew upwards and outwards and little licking pathways of flame started up all over the garden. Scarlet flames and evil-smelling smoke began to rise into the night.
Flame and Floy, standing in their shadowy corner, watched in horror, and Flame felt sick, because although she had seen the fire demons many times before, she knew that this time Mother had called them up out of sheer jealous rage.
‘My fault,’ said Flame, staring down into the garden. ‘Floy, this is all my fault.’
‘Why?’ said Floy, not understanding, and Flame, her eyes never leaving the terrible sight, said, ‘Because you preferred me to her. She had indicated to you that she would like to have you for a lover. And you ignored her and preferred me. But,’ said Flame carefully, ‘I am quite glad you did prefer me to her, Floy.’
Floy started to say something and, as he did so, a terrible screech of triumph split the garden. Fire erupted into the night sky and with it the sizzling sound of hundreds upon hundreds of firethorns raining down on the Court.
The demons had broken out of the circle and were swarming over the rose garden.
Reflection was still chanting the spell that would keep the demons imprisoned, the licking flames of her gown swirling and hissing.
‘Only it is failing,’ whispered Flame. ‘It is failing because she is in a great rage.’ She glanced up at Floy. ‘Sorcery-any kind of sorcery is weakened by anger,’ she said. ‘The concentration is not total. She will fail to keep them penned.’
‘Go after the faithless ones who betrayed me!’ cried Reflection, at the fire demons prancing about her skirts. ‘Find my errant daughter and the Human who has abused my hospitality!’ shouted Reflection, her eyes sending more showers of sparks everywhere. ‘And bring them here to me! We all know what can be done with Humans!’ she added, and the demons chuckled and ran off, scuttling across the ground at a tremendous speed.
Snodgrass, who was keeping well back, and trying frantically to see where Floy was, saw several of the Court move warily towards their mistress, as if to calm her.
‘Get back all of you!’ screamed Reflection in a towering fury. ‘Stay back! Or do you wish me to send the fire demons to capture you! Is that what you want!’ shrieked Reflection, her voice soaring in triumphant spite. ‘Shall I let the creatures take you! Shall we see you all dance the Fire Dance of Frenzy!’
As she spoke, the demons let out squeals of delight and ran across the garden, encircling several of the terrified Court. People began to scream, and Courtiers ran this way and that, trying to dodge their captors and escape.
‘The girl!’ screeched Reflection. ‘The girl, you foolish, greedy creatures! Leave my people and seek out the traitorous flesh of my flesh! The seducer’s spawn who is betraying me! Seek her out and with her the Human who spumed me!’
But the demons chuckled and began to chant something that sounded, to Floy, so ancient and so incompreh
ensible, and so utterly and completely evil, that icy hands closed about his heart.
There was a terrible compulsion about the chanting; there was a rhythm, a pulsating that drew you and beckoned you and crept inside your head, and said: come into the heart of the dancing, Humans … and made you see a dark, swirling column with hands reaching out from its core that you would have to obey … Floy, his arms about Flame protectively, felt his feet move of their own volition, and at once Flame said, ‘Floy! No! You must not listen! You must not hear the demons’ Fire Dance!’
The dark chanting was forming on the air, taking substance and shape. As it increased in intensity, Floy saw the dark column forming, a whirling, coiling, smoke-wreathed serpent towering above the gardens, long fingers beckoning from its depths. The imprisoned Court people began to dance, slowly and unwillingly at first, as if they were fighting the dreadful enchantment, but then faster, frenetically, jerking their limbs, leaping higher and higher.
The demons squealed with glee and, as the imprisoned Courtiers whirled and leapt, Reflection strode to the grinning demons, anger in every line of her tall figure, her eyes spitting the streams of fury so that little rivulets of fire sprang up and ran sizzling along the ground and then died away. The sickening stench of burning rose on the air.
‘The girl, you fools!’ she cried, beating at the demons with her hands, snatching their tridents. ‘Go after the girl and bring her to me!’
For answer, the demons chuckled their horrid laugh and dodged out of her reach, hurling their spears at the frenzied victims of the Fire Dance. The spears sizzled through the air, several of them embedding in the victims’ flesh. Blood sprang to the surface, but the wounded Courtiers danced with a terrible grim concentration, sobbing now and gasping for breath, some of them pleading with the demons for mercy.
The once-quiet garden was ringing with the sobbing of the imprisoned Courtiers and, from where they stood, unnoticed, Floy could see that blood was staining their shoes.
He was horrified and appalled. When he spoke, the anguish was in his voice, and Flame, who was as horrified as Floy and who was frightened of what Reflection might do next, shuddered. ‘We must do something. This is unbearable — ’
‘No. Floy, there is nothing … ’ And even like this, thought Flame, even in the midst of panic and fear and chaos, there is such delight in saying his name. ‘There is nothing we can do,’ she said. ‘If Mother has failed to keep the fire demons penned in the circle, then there is nothing you or I can do to stop them.’
‘We could try,’ said Floy, and started across the garden.
‘No!’ said Flame, pulling him back. ‘Floy, you would be taken and forced into the Frenzy and you would die of exhaustion.’ And then, in a quieter tone, ‘And it would take you a very long time to die.’ She stopped, and felt Floy’s arms about her, the first time he had touched her, and at once there was a soaring delight and an overwhelming sensation of sharing. She was conscious of thinking that she had not known it would be like this, that she had not imagined that there could be such deep, pure joy. And then Floy bent his head and, as he did so, his mind seemed to pour outwards to hers, enfolding her. Almost, thought Flame, dizzily, almost as if we are not separate people at all, almost as if we have a single mind. A deep, sweet pain closed about her and she was drowning, helpless in an ocean of sweet, slow rapture … There was a moment when she surrendered to it completely, and then another moment when she heard, from out of nothing, the distant roaring of fire, and glimpsed a brief, blinding sheet of flame that would pour down on them at any minute … Flame pushed Floy from her at once, and stood rather shakily looking at him, and saw that he had seen the fire and heard the flames and that he understood.
But he smiled, and said, ‘Once, lovers slew dragons for their ladies.’
Flame could feel that his mind was still somehow alongside hers, and the delight was still there between them and the sharing, only both of these must be put aside for the moment. But they will be all the sweeter for being saved, thought Flame. They will not fade.
But when Floy said, ‘We cannot stay here,’ Flame at once said, ‘No, for Mother will soon recapture the demons, or perhaps she will summon others and they will be sent to find us and then, Floy, you will be punished and perhaps you will die.’
The demons were dancing and leaping, sending their sinister dark music on to the night. Sweat was pouring from the Courtiers, soaking their hair and darkening their clothes. Blood had spattered the thin silken shoes and their faces were the colour of tallow candles. Several times, one of them would fall, gasping for breath, flailing wildly at the air as if for strength, but each time this happened, the demons shrieked and jerked the weak one to his feet. The dancers were beginning to resemble puppets, inanimate creatures of wood and straw, manipulated from above.
‘They will die before dawn,’ said Flame. ‘Mother will try to cage the fire demons in a circle, but she will not succeed. And once those victims have died, then the Fire Demons will look for other prey.’
Floy said, questioningly, ‘The traitorous daughter they were summoned to punish?’
‘Yes,’ whispered Flame.
‘And the Human traveller who preferred the daughter?’
‘She will kill you, Floy,’ said Flame, her eyes huge as she looked at him. ‘She will kill you with no more thought than you would have given to squashing an insect.’
‘Then we must escape now, while she is still trying to quell the Fire Demons and while everyone’s attention is on the poor creatures in the circle.’ He looked at her very straightly and, in the red glow from the rose garden, Flame saw that his face was set and intent. ‘It is your only chance,’ said Floy, his eyes shining. ‘We could be out of the Palace before anyone knew. Into those other worlds.
Come away with me now, Flame.’
Flame said, ‘Can it be done? Oh, Floy, can it really?’
‘I have to escape,’ said Floy. ‘Because, demons aside, I have to find my sister.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Flame could understand this.
‘Then come with me,’ said Floy again.
Flame looked up at him and saw that his eyes were shining with a reckless light and that the dark hair had fallen across his brow, giving him the look of a rebel.
In the pulsating light from the rose garden Flame smiled and said, ‘Yes. All right.’
And the years of planning, and the years of pretending, fell suddenly into place and it was seamlessly easy to know what to do.
Floy stayed where he was, his eyes scanning the gardens, marking out gates, escapes, narrow paths down which fleeing lovers could steal.
‘But first I must find Snodgrass,’ he said, and Flame at once said, ‘Yes, of course,’ because it was not to be thought of that Floy would simply rush off with her, leaving the other traveller, his friend, to Mother’s mercies. Mother was quite likely to fling Snodgrass to the fire demons purely out of anger. Flame said, ‘He was talking with the bailiffs earlier on. And that is their tower.’ She pointed. ‘It is the one place where he would be safe from Mother,’ said Flame, and grinned. ‘Mother has never quite dared to offend the bailiffs,’ she said. ‘Your friend may well be there.’
Floy narrowed his eyes and saw the outline of the small tower, set a little apart from the main buildings. It would be easy to slip through the carnage and the tumult and get to it. He looked at Flame. ‘Can you put together a few things? A cloak and warm things for travelling?’
‘Yes. I can reach my room by a back stair. I don’t think I should meet anyone,’ said Flame, and then grinned. ‘But in any case, I can invoke a Spell of Invisibility.’ Floy stared at her. ‘Can you?’
‘Certainly,’ said the sorceress’s daughter, and then,
‘Did you think I had lived at this Court without learning anything? It will not be a very strong enchantment,’ she said, seriously, ‘and it will not last for very long, because I have not Mother’s power. But I can do it.’ The grin flashed again and it was disconcerting
ly her father’s grin, winged and mischievous.
‘Then hurry,’ said Floy. ‘Come over to the tower as soon as you can.’ He stood, watching her melt into the shadows, and then turned back. The imprisoned Courtiers were sobbing and gasping, dancing and jerking horribly, the fire demons hurling tiny, glinting darts at their feet to make them dance faster.
Everyone was running somewhere, and people were on the verge of panic. Nobody will see me, thought Floy. I haven’t Flame’s Spell of Invisibility, but if I am quick and unobtrusive, nobody will notice me.
As Flame had suggested, Snodgrass was in the bailiffs’ tower, his face creased with anxiety for Floy, whom he had lost sight of. He beamed with pleasure at discovering Floy to be not only unscathed, but planning to escape Reflection’s wrath.
‘But I don’t think I can come with you,’ he said. ‘What about Fenella?’
‘We’re going to be travelling the road that Fenella should be on,’ said Floy, who had already worked this one out. ‘We’re bound to meet up with her, or get news of her.’
‘But you don’t know that,’ said Snodgrass. ‘You might very easily miss her. One of us ought to stay here just in case she manages to reach the Fire Court.’
‘I can’t let you,’ said Floy, appalled.
‘Do you know, I believe you could,’ said Snodgrass thoughtfully. ‘I’ve become rather interested in what’s going on here. They’re rather interesting people, these bailiffs. And it’s quite private here in this tower, not to say discreet. I’ve been talking to them about all manner of things; their system of money and how the Court pay their debts, and all about Madame’s accounts. My word, she’s in deep trouble, that one.’
‘But would you be safe?’ said Floy, still unconvinced.
Snodgrass thought he might be very safe indeed. ‘They tell me she’s secretly rather afraid of the bailiffs,’ he said. ‘On account of her owing so much money everywhere. She’s bound for what they call a debtors’ prison, that one, and not for the first time by all accounts. Also, she’s drawn one of those circles they all set so much store by right round the bailiffs’ tower, and it seems that nobody can get inside without the bailiffs’ permission. That’s neither Madame herself, nor those nasty creatures she let loose a while ago.’ He regarded Floy with his head on one side and Floy said, slowly, ‘It sounds reasonable — ’