Focus. This was her chance to get information. “So, tell me all about fay magic. What was it you said just now? Transformation?”
“It’s one sphere of magic. It physically turns something into something else. The torc protects you from being transformed while you’re wearing it, but the change persists even after you put it back on.”
“It’s permanent?”
“It can be undone.” Tamsin pointed to the fork in Lori’s hands. “For the next month, you should be careful when handling silver. If you cut yourself with it, the transformation will be reversed.”
“This is silver?” There were no hallmarks on the fork.
“Yes.”
“Bit posh for an army mess hall.”
Tamsin laughed. “The fay get nervous around iron and steel. That’s why only sentries on duty carry guns in the middle bailey, and nobody’s allowed them in the keep, in case of an accident. Silver and gold weapons won’t hurt the fay—at least, no worse than they’d hurt us—but gold is too soft to hold an edge. Silver’s the only metal they can make any practical use of.”
“You said I only need to be careful for a month. Does the transformation become fixed at some stage?”
“Only because of how memory works. At the moment, you’ve got what Queen Rianna has implanted. But you’re already making your own memories with this knowledge. The longer it goes on, the more memories of using the language you’ll have, and they’re yours. They’ll stay with you, even if an accident with silver takes away the original knowledge.”
“Right.”
“On the other hand, a physical change can always be completely undone. Which is why it’s worth carrying a silver blade.” Tamsin indicated the knife on her belt.
“You said the torc protects you.”
“It does. But if a fay transforms a mouse into a lion, the lion can eat you.”
Lori chewed thoughtfully on a slice of lukewarm meat—it might have been turkey, or something similarly avian. Tamsin was watching, a half smile on her face. It would be so easy to give in to the temptation and switch to a more personal topic. It would also be profoundly stupid. Lori forced her thoughts back on track.
“You called transformation a sphere of magic. Are there other spheres?”
“Yes. The two main ones are illusion and enthrallment. Illusion makes you see, hear, and feel things that aren’t real. It doesn’t mean they’re harmless though. The illusion of a lion couldn’t kill you, but you’d have the illusion of pain when it bit you.”
“Is there a difference between real pain and imaginary?”
“Not enough to get excited about. And the lion might scare you to death. But the instant you put the torc on, the lion and the pain would vanish.”
“Could you drive somebody mad with illusions?”
“Probably. But the fay mainly use it as a game, like telling stories. If you didn’t have the torc on, you wouldn’t be able to trust anything around you. Even boggarts can make illusions, and you don’t want to know what comes out of their imagination.”
“Boggarts can work magic?”
“Some can. Like I said, they’re good at illusion. Some can even manage transformation, but enthrallment is beyond them.”
“Okay. So tell me about enthrallment.”
“Enthrallment enslaves someone’s mind, so the thrall has no will of their own.”
That sounded like Gaius. However, Tamsin’s expression became strained. The easy smile had left her lips.
“Is something wrong?”
“I was enthralled when I first came to Annwyn. It happened to a lot of humans. I spent years as a mindless slave. I don’t fully remember all the details, which is a blessing. Most of the time went by in a daze. Nothing really sticks out. You can’t care about anything or anyone, including yourself. It’s not one of my better memories.”
“Queen Rianna did that to you?”
“No.” The denial was immediate. “Of course not. She was the one who freed me, and the rest of the Silver Ravens.”
But not everyone. “When somebody’s enthralled, are they controlled directly, like a puppet, or are they given commands they work through as best they can?”
“I can’t say for sure. It’s all too hazy. But I don’t think fay would have wanted to be in close mental contact with thralls. Plus they used to have dozens—too many to control each one separately.”
“Can they listen to what’s going on around their thralls? Use them as spies?”
“I don’t know.” Tamsin shrugged. “Anyway. It doesn’t matter now. There’re no human thralls left in Annwyn. Queen Rianna freed us all when she took over.”
“Yes, there are.”
“What?”
“There are still enthralled humans.”
“Who told you that?”
“I don’t need to be told. I’m working with one in the keep. Gaius. He’s like a zombie.”
“No.” Tamsin’s tone hardened.
“You think I’m lying?”
“I think you’re confused. Queen Rianna freed everyone, no exceptions.”
“If she’s told you that, then she’s the one who’s—”
“Don’t you dare say that.” Tamsin’s voice cracked like a whip.
Lori froze. Time to engage brain. No matter what she said, she was not going to persuade Tamsin. “I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s hard for me to be sure about anything here. There’s so much I don’t understand.”
The anger on Tamsin’s face eased. “Maybe. But you need to think before you speak.”
Excellent advice. She should write it on a note and put it under her pillow. Lori got to her feet. “It’s been a long day. I’m tired and should go to bed. I need to be thinking clearly tomorrow.”
A succession of emotions chased across Tamsin’s face, ending with something softly regretful. “I’m sorry if I snapped just now. But Queen Rianna is…” She sighed. “You don’t know how much she’s done for me.”
Tamsin was sincere. Lori was sure of it. Which left one option. She’s fooled you. I don’t know how, but she’s completely suckered you in. And there was no way Lori could think of to change things. Not my circus. Not my monkeys. For now, at least.
* * *
Lori put down the quill. “I’m going for a walk.”
“Queen Rianna requires you to complete your task as quickly as possible.”
“I know. But my thoughts are stuck in a rut. I need to shake them loose. Walking helps me put my ideas in order.”
Gaius froze, presumably running through his list of pre-programmed commands. “I will arrange an escort for you. Do not be away for long.”
“I promise to think as quickly as I can.”
Lori arrived in the middle bailey to find a group of Iron Ravens playing a game. The rules were unclear, but involved a rugby ball, hectic running around, full body-slam tackles, and a lot of shouting. She watched for a minute before moving on to the outer bailey, which was far from peaceful, but still less distracting than the soldiers’ game.
A spiral stairway in one of the outer towers took her onto the battlements. The parapet had bevelled slots to allow archers—or in Annwyn’s case, machine gunners—to fire out while protected from incoming missiles. Lori dug around in her memory. The up and down wall design was called crenulations, the gaps were embrasures, and the high parts were merlons. Yet more useless information from working on fantasy games.
She rested her forearms on the waist-high wall of an embrasure and looked out. On the other side of the wall was an expanse of open grassland, finishing in a strip of sand beside the sea. The warm afternoon air was heavy with the scent of wildflowers. The sky was cloudless blue. How much more pleasant it would be out there, walking alone with her thoughts.
Her eyes fixed on the distant mountains. A whole world was out there and she knew nothing about it. Would she be allowed outside Caersiddi on her own? And how safe was it? Dragons might not be the only danger—her mental brakes engaged—which was why she was
not going to even consider the idea. By the age of fourteen she had visited enough places to last anyone a lifetime. Her travelling days were over. She would finish the decoding and get back to Earth as quickly as possible, with no diversions for sightseeing.
Lori began pacing the battlements, marshalling her thoughts. Now that she could read Hyannish, she was being far more productive in coming up with ideas that did not work. Over the previous day she had discounted all the easiest options, which was progress of a sort. The code was not a simple substitution cipher. That much was certain, otherwise she would have been able to pick out the repetition of common words, the Hyannish equivalents of “and,” “a,” and, “the.”
More background information on Morgaine would help, an insight into the dead queen, and what had been important to her and her times. All Gaius could say was Morgaine had become High Queen a little over a century before and was nearly as far beyond criticism as her current day descendant.
Applying the thirty to one time ratio, meant Morgaine’s reign began just before 1000 BC on Earth, the start of the Iron Age. Lori paused mid-step. Was that purely coincidental, given how dangerous iron was to fay? Regardless, it was hard to see how the correlation could have any relevance from the point of view of decryption.
Lori leaned her shoulder against a merlon and stared at the distant mountains while her thoughts moved on. With no way to recharge the laptop, she had to be very careful about the battery. The computer also carried the risk of overcomplicating things. Morgaine could not have created anything as complex as an enigma machine. Keep it simple.
How simple did she need to be? Back in 1000 BC, writing was just getting going on Earth. So few people were literate that encryption was hardly necessary and never went beyond simple Caesar ciphers—which were already ruled out. Since Morgaine could not borrow a technique from Earth, it meant she must have invented her own encryption method here in Annwyn, using just ink and paper, with maybe a little magical help. She would have needed to be a mathematical genius to come up with hash functions, so something like a Playfair cipher was far more likely. What would Morgaine have used as a key?
The explosive cracks of gunshots made Lori jump. She spun round, ending up with her back pressed against the wall of the parapet. Two crows that had been perched atop a nearby merlon took to the air. But the shots were not followed by shouts or alarm bells. The castle was not under attack. She rested her hands on her knees while her pulse slowed.
Seen from above, the outer bailey was more orderly than her initial impression suggested. Distinct areas were laid out for stores, workshops, drill yards, and target ranges. The barrack blocks must be home to the horde of boggarts who serviced the castle. They had to be living somewhere, and the doors were too low for either humans or fay. Now that she could speak Hyannish, was it worth getting a boggart’s take on life in Caersiddi? It was a safe bet they would not be so enamoured of Queen Rianna.
Another shot rang out, coming from a target range just below where she stood. The Silver Ravens were at rifle practice. Lori stared down on them. Time was passing, and really she should return to the keep. But would Tamsin know anything useful about Morgaine? Was the idea just an excuse to go talk to her? Did she need to start second-guessing herself every time she saw Tamsin?
The answer to the last question was probably a yes, but the sight of the rifles had given rise to a temptation that grew ever more irresistible by the second. Without giving herself a chance to think better of it, Lori trotted down the nearest staircase.
“Hi. Have you come to join in?” Tamsin grinned, her tone making it clear she was teasing.
“Yes. If you don’t mind.”
“You’re serious?” The surprise in Tamsin’s voice overwhelmed any last doubts.
“Why not?”
“A rifle isn’t a toy,” Finn snarled.
“I know that.”
Three of the Silver Ravens were lying down, rifles braced on a line of sandbags. Hippo had been preparing to shoot. He got to his knees and gestured to Lori. “You can take my rifle.”
“This isn’t…” Finn gave up, and stood back, scowling.
Lori got in position beside Hippo. The others, BH and Shorty, scrambled out of the way, clearly sharing Finn’s opinion of the potentially dangerous waste of time. Lori caught Shorty rolling his eyes.
Hippo handed over the gun. “Now, you must be very careful. There’s a live round in the chamber. This is—”
“A bolt action rifle. Specifically, a Remington M24.”
Admittedly, there were only three rifles she could name on sight, but Hippo was not to know that. She smiled at him, then laid her cheek against the stock and flipped off the safety. The target was short range, less than a hundred yards. Muscle memory took over as she lined up the sights and eased on the trigger. The kick against her shoulder was familiar, but without any protection, the volume of the retort was not. Her ears rang. Health and safety inspectors were yet to make their impact on fairyland.
Lori ejected the spent cartridge, then fired a second and third time before resetting the safety and putting the rifle down. She twisted around into a sitting position. The row of slack-jawed, stunned faces was everything she could have hoped for.
“Three fucking bullseyes.” Shorty was the first to speak.
Tamsin nodded. “That wasn’t your first time, was it?”
“My last employer sent me on a month-long army training course.”
“I thought you were a computer programmer.”
“I was.” Lori got to her feet, brushing dust from her T-shirt and jeans. “We were working on what was going to be the most realistic war game ever, called Rank and File.”
Tamsin indicated for the Silver Ravens to resume the target practice while she and Lori took a few steps back. “I didn’t know computing got so physical.”
“Doesn’t normally. But our CEO got the idea all the lead programmers should have hands-on experience, rather than rely on advisors. We got shipped to the States for an immersion course. I’d ended up specialising as a sniper.”
“What made you pick that?”
“Nobody else wanted the job.”
Not after the first day on the target range, when she outscored everyone else by an embarrassing amount—she would certainly have been embarrassed in their shoes. How the others found it so difficult was beyond her. You lined up the sights, squeezed the trigger, and a hole appeared in the target where you were aiming. That was all there was to it. Maybe Dad teaching her to shoot when she was four had given her a head start.
“You should let me have the details of where you went. We can send this lot along. Your instructors must have been good.”
“Maybe. Our trouble was we came away knowing too much.”
“In what way?” Tamsin was standing a little too close, and Lori was annoyed at herself for not minding in the slightest.
“War isn’t fun. The game ended up too realistic. What kids want is to run around shooting people. There’s nothing exciting about spending an hour taking a rifle apart and cleaning it. We tried to hold back on the realism, but it was hard to ignore all we’d learned.”
Feedback from the beta testers had been full of words like dull, tedious, repetitive, and pointless. The disaster that was Rank and File had finished Ganymede Games.
“What range do you shoot?”
“I’m fine up to five hundred yards, as long as the weather isn’t troublesome. I don’t have the experience to adjust for wind accurately. And I never got anywhere close to advanced stuff like taking the curvature of the Earth into account.”
“That won’t be an issue here. Annwyn is flat.”
“That’s impossible. Are you kidding me?”
“No.”
“What happens at the edge of the world?”
“If you go off one side, you come back in at the other.”
“You’ve done it?”
“Yes. Twice. But it’s a trick for emergencies only. You spend the next few days
feeling like you’ve been turned inside out, and that’s not fun.” Tamsin gave the target another long, hard look. “When you’ve finished decoding you might want to try out for the Silver Ravens.” Her expression made it unclear whether she was joking.
“You’d want me?” Lori heard the playfulness in her own voice. Stop it. Stop it. She had to be sensible.
“I might.” Tamsin’s grin was slow and easy. “Finn’s our best shot, and he’s pretty good, but we’ve been looking to recruit a proper sniper ever since Pobble went. None of the Iron Ravens who’ve applied have been up to scratch. You can try out, if you’re interested.”
Tamsin’s tone suggested that the word “interested” applied to more than just becoming a sniper, and yes, Lori was most definitely interested. That was the problem. She took a half step away. “Actually, I’m here to pick your brains. I was wondering what you could tell me about Queen Morgaine. Any insight you might have.”
“Queen Morgaine?” Tamsin shook her head. “I don’t know what you think I can tell you. She was gone long before I arrived in Annwyn.”
“But you still know more than I do.”
“Why are you interested in her?”
“She’s the one who wrote the scroll I’m trying to decode.”
“Oh.” Tamsin looked unsettled. It was information Queen Rianna had not seen fit to share.
Lori pressed on before Tamsin had the chance to work out whether she was compromised. “It’s possible Queen Morgaine used a Playfair encryption scheme—I can explain that, but you won’t find it very interesting. I need to get inside her head. What was the most important thing to her? I’m looking for a word or phrase she might have used as a key.”
“I don’t think she was too concerned about anything other than herself.”
It runs in the family then. “How about children?”
“Her son, Arawan, was king after her, but they didn’t have a good relationship.”
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