“Jalo! Thank the Ancients you’ve returned!” Tariro ran to greet her younger son in the garden. “Have you heard? They found spies in the Castella!”
She tried to embrace him, but before her lips touched his cheek he pulled away from her. The garden shivered and grew cold, a chill wind rushing through it.
“Mother, let us not play games with one another any longer,” he said.
“Games?” Her voice was too shrill. She lowered it. By the Ancients, what a look he was giving her! “What do you mean?”
Jalo’s lips tightened and his nostrils flared. She could see he knew everything. She dropped the act, for she hated wasted effort. It alarmed her to find that there were some in her own Castella who were loyal to her son. She had always thought him clever, cleverer by far than Cadeyrn, but she had never imagined he might have thought to curry favour or make allies for himself among the servants. Could he have spies in her own house?
“You are more like me than I like,” she said with a brittle laugh. “Who told you?”
He took her by the arm and pulled her through the garden to the archway, which stood all twined with roses. Before she could speak to protest he dragged her through it, out into the opaline mass of archways.
“You will put this right.” His voice shook.
“No more games, you say,” she answered him, shaking free of his grip and stepping back to face him. “Very well. You placed spies in my home. They have been executed.”
“They were not spies,” he said. “And they are not dead. Do not mistake me for a fool, mother. It is not yet illegal to bring a visitor from the outside world into our Realm.”
“It is illegal to do so in secrecy, to disguise them as Faeries, to make use of a witch.”
“Nobody consorts with witches more than you do.”
“None could prove it even if they wished to. But you have been too rash and careless. You would end in the Faery Dungeons if I were to reveal all you have done these last few days.”
“Do you think you can frighten me?” Jalo laughed, an angry, hurt bark. “You care far more than I do what becomes of me, mother. And that is why you will agree to free the humans and Emin’s wife.”
“I no longer have the power to do so, even if I wished it!” cried Tariro. “It is out of my hands! They are prisoners of the Realm, sentenced to death. I cannot stop it, Jalo.”
Jalo grabbed her hard by the shoulders. “Show me your secret place,” he whispered.
“Jalo!” she tried to throw him off and found to her horror that she could not. He was stronger than her and he was hurting her. He dragged her from one archway to another, each time giving her a violent shake. She gasped, and in a shadowy corner a crumbling stone archway emerged. Through it, only darkness, but he saw her face and pulled her through.
“There’s nothing here,” she whispered.
Slippery rock under their feet. Blasted trees gaping. He shook her, he squeezed her shoulders so she cried out, and then they were on the windswept heath, among the tall stones. The pool was clear as glass, reflecting the emptiness of the sky. The cloaked figure waiting there bowed in greeting.
Jalo let go of her and stepped away, breathing hard. “You can do whatever you want to do, mother. That has always been so. You will make it happen, for me. Release them.”
“Do not think that because you are my son I will not make you my enemy if you push me too far,” she said through clenched teeth. “And you know, Jalo, you know what becomes of my enemies.”
“Yes, I know.” His eyes were pure fire. “This is our agreement, mother. Emin’s wife will be sent back to him, all charges against her dropped. You will turn the humans over to me. I will take them out of this Realm, with a spy of your choice to ensure that I do so. You will never see them again, and neither will I. If you do this for me then I will join the Elite Faery Guard, I will strive for promotion, and I will woo Emyr’s daughter as you wish me to. I will present her with gifts and poetry, I will charm her and I will marry her. I will be ambitious. I will bring you glory and honour. My career, my marriage, all these will be in your hands, and I will swear it by the Oath of the Ancients if necessary. But if the girl dies, then by the Ancients, mother, I will bring such disgrace on this family as you cannot even contemplate. I love her beyond desire for myself. Though I doubt you can imagine such a love, believe that it is real. I feel it. It consumes me. And so in exchange for her life, my life is yours. Now tell me yea or nay, and do not let me hear one word from you but one of those.”
Tariro looked into her son’s flaming eyes in amazement.
“Jalo,” she began, but he roared: “Yea or nay!”
“I will have them freed,” whispered Tariro. “But you must take the humans away immediately Jalo, and my servant Miyam will not leave you alone for a moment. There will be no sudden, secret marriage.”
Jalo laughed shortly. He thought of Emyr’s daughter, her chilly eyes and piles of shining hair, her tiny fragile hands that seemed to feel nothing. He thought of Nell’s violet eyes, her lovely face that showed everything she felt as she felt it, her bright burst of laughter that so startled him every time. And she would let herself age and wither in a few short years. He could choke on his grief and disappointment. She would die, and he would remain here, forever.
“We are agreed then,” he said to his mother. She nodded.
“We are agreed. But I will have to work fast.” She sighed. “You have made things very difficult, Jalo.”
“Once the girl is safe, I will make things ever easier,” he promised.
She embraced him, and this time he accepted it, stony-hearted.
~~~
Early the following morning, the King of the Faeries met with his first Advisor, Alvar, and the Master of the Vaults. Nikias was there too, but everybody knew that Nikias had gained the position of second Advisor solely through the maneuverings of his wife, Tariro. They sat around a table on a veranda, looking down on the island where the Shang Sorceress remained.
“They say she has been breathing strangely all night, and cried out once or twice,” said Alvar.
“Perhaps that is how people sleep,” said Emyr. “She has not been making symbols or speaking. And besides, I am told that the power of the Sorceress lies in some mystical staff. She has that dagger, but she brought no staff with her.”
“I suspect she is perfectly capable of working Magic without a staff,” said the Master of the Vaults. “We should not underestimate her. She looks young, but she defeated the Xia Sorceress, remember.”
“Yes,” said Emyr, rubbing his chin. “Do we know how?”
“My son Jalo described the spell to me once,” said Nikias eagerly. “Something about turning the Sorceress’s magic in on itself. She made use of a creature the Xia Sorceress had Made.”
“Clever,” said Alvar. “I do not like a clever Sorceress. I think we should not have let her in. She is up to something. Why would she bring us the Gehemmis?”
“No, look, you are worrying too much, Alvar,” said Emyr soothingly. “There is no question that her alliance with the Mancers is severed. They are searching all of Tian Xia for her. This thing with the Gehemmis is about vengeance.”
“And she wants our help. She says.”
“Yes, well, that…perhaps. What shall we do? Is there any danger in sending her back to Tian Xia with a Faery escort, as she asks?”
Alvar shook his head. “When a Sorceress comes to the Realm, it is safe to assume there is more to it than the reason she states. Why would she turn to the Faeries for help?”
“She has come where the Mancers cannot follow her,” said Emyr, feeling a little defensive of his decision to put her up for the night. “Still, I do not like that Jalo brought her. That was reckless. He should choose his friends more carefully.” The King directed this reproof at Nikias, who hung his head.
“Suppose she is still in league with the Mancers?” demanded Alvar. “Their falling out could be an act.”
“The Mancers woul
d not risk the Gehemmis,” said the Master of the Vaults with certainty. “Your Majesty, may I suggest, the safest course of action no doubt is to kill her. She has no allies that can retaliate. The real question is what to do about the Gehemmis.”
“What to do about it?” asked Emyr, confused.
“Let us come to that later,” broke in Alvar. “We must reach a decision about the Sorceress first. I agree with the Master of the Vaults. She is young, but somehow she defeated the Xia Sorceress and stole the Gehemmis from the Mancers. She is more powerful than she looks and she is dangerous. She has come here armed against Illusion and quite possibly against Curses, but she is still human and dies as a human does. We should execute her immediately. Do we have your consent, your Majesty?”
“Oh my!” said Nikias, his only contribution to the discussion.
“Of course,” agreed Emyr. “You’re quite right. It’s the only sensible thing to do.”
“Good. Then, the Gehemmis,” said the Master of the Vaults.
“I suppose the question is, do we return it to the Horogarth, or keep it?” asked Emyr.
“Your Majesty, may I make a suggestion?” The Master of the Vaults leaned forwards. “If there was a way we could obtain the others, it would be worth any risk. Their power depends on them being together, but there is no doubt that together the Gehemmis can generate a Magic greater than the worlds have seen since the Early Days. Enough to return the Faeries to their former dominion of Tian Xia.”
Emyr’s eyes widened, and he let out a long breath.
“Nonsense,” said Alvar sharply. “How would we obtain the others? Go to war with the Immortal Dragons? And what of the Sparkling Deluder?”
“Your Majesty,” said the Master of the Vaults, directing his words only to Emyr. “Surely a stealth troop of Faeries could steal an object from the Immortal Dragons. Their power has been waning for millennia. It is said they can no longer cross the Far Sea and I believe it must be true, for they are never seen in Tian Xia. If the Gehemmis was stolen, they could make no pursuit. And as for the Sparkling Deluder of the South…perhaps the Deluder might be offered some exchange?”
“Would the Faeries who went to the Hanging Gardens return?” asked Alvar dryly.
“It is a risk worth taking. These are the very gifts of the Ancients. That the Mancers sought to steal them from the Immortals suggests that they know how to put them to use. We might force them to share this knowledge with us, if we obtained all four.”
“Do the Mancers know something we do not?” cried Emyr, indignant.
“With respect,” said the Master of the Vaults, “the Mancers know a great many things we do not. The Faeries relied on them too heavily as scribes. When they broke rank and fled our Realm in the Early Days, we did not adequately fill the role they left.” The others were looking at him with thinly disguised outrage now, but the Master of the Vaults was undeterred. “It is heresy to say so, perhaps. I believe the Faeries to be the superiors of the Mancers in almost every way but I must concede that in learning, in knowledge, they have surpassed us. The Gehemmis would change everything and we are halfway there already.”
“It cannot hurt to try,” said Emyr.
“Your Majesty,” protested Alvar, “We may find ourselves doing battle with the Dragons for eternity, and what peace would Tian Xia have with the Immortals of the East and West fighting one another? And as for the Sparkling Deluder of the South, we would be fools to go into that land seeking anything at all.”
“If a mere Sorceress could alone obtain the Gehemmis of the Horogarth,” murmured the Master of the Vaults, “why cannot the Faeries obtain all four and secure their dominion?”
Emyr was decided.
“Choose two full Divisions of the Faery Guard,” he said to Alvar. “Come to me with a strategy by the end of the week.”
Alvar rose and bowed stiffly.
“And give the command for the execution of the Sorceress,” added the King.
~~~
Nell sat with her back fitted against the curve of the wall. The cell she was in was so small that she could not stretch out her arms or legs completely without bumping up against the other side of it. She called it a cell to herself, but it was unlike any cell she might have imagined. It was perfectly spherical and smooth and dark. No matter how she moved, the entire wall of the sphere had equal gravity. There was no up or down except in relation to where she was, but she could not pull herself away from the wall and so she had to slide along it. This was strange enough to keep her occupied for the first hour or so, but now she was trying to reason out how long she had been here. She did not remember getting out of the morrapus. That part was a blur. She had not woken up, exactly, but rather come to the awareness that she was enclosed and did not know what had happened. Nobody had brought her any food or water. She was terribly thirsty, her mouth dry and sticky and her head pounding, but she was not hallucinating or mad or dead so it could only have been a day or so at the most since she had been left here. In that case, if she was counting correctly, her exam at Austermon was in two weeks. For the hundredth time she touched the tiny folder in her pocket.
She would not have her chance at Austermon. She would not meet Graeme Biggis, she would not become a cetologist, she would not see the underwater world of the whales. Her parents and brothers would never know what had happened to her. Nobody would know that she had died in a little black hole in the Realm of the Faeries, and for what reason? Some mad, jealous mother. She wasn’t sure if this was the execution, being left to die of thirst in a hole, or if she was just waiting for some other form of execution. When she thought of dying, of never seeing her family again, or Eliza, or Charlie, of never seeing anything again or taking a breath of air in the real world or eating or laughing or stretching her legs or having another thought or feeling, her heart seemed to unspool inside her and she wept, no matter how she tried to pull herself together. With death looming so close, she thought what a fool she had been to turn down Jalo’s offer. She didn’t love him, didn’t want to live in the Realm of the Faeries, but he was right: a human life was too short, so short as to be insignificant, and being a cetologist seemed remote and bizarre from where she was now. What kind of madness would drive her to refuse the chance to live forever, to break the bounds of human mortality and experience the worlds for the rest of time? She wondered if Jalo had had something to do with their imprisonment, and in case he could hear her she screamed once: “I changed my mind, Jalo! I’ll do whatever you want!” She was instantly humiliated by her own fearful capitulation. She rolled herself into a ball and sobbed and sobbed, though it hurt to cry when she was so hungry and so thirsty and so afraid.
When she had no more strength to cry or even to really be afraid, when she felt like a dry, thoughtless husk fastened to the darkness of the wall, the sphere split open and light poured in, making her eyes water. Somebody luminous was leaning over her, pulling her out. Her heart began to jackrabbit and she made a feeble attempt at struggling.
“Stop it,” said Jalo’s voice. “I’m getting you out of here.”
She tried to look into his bright face but her eyes were still dazzled after so much time in the dark and she could not read his expression, could not tell if it was the truth. She was being led into a morrapus.
“Nell?” It was Charlie’s voice, hoarse but recognizable. She felt his hands on her face and she began to cry again, well beyond the point when she thought she could cry at all. She reached for him, fell into his embrace and held him tight as the morrapus took to the air.
~~~
The Master of the Vaults was later than usual due to the morning meeting. He hurried down into the vaults, eager to hold the Gehemmis in his hands again. Daily he made this check, to be sure that every treasure was safe and in its place. He twisted his rings as he went.
~~~
Eliza sat up, panting for breath. Every bone in her body ached with fatigue, but she had done it. She had drawn the Curse from Amarantha and she held it now in
her own power. The pavilion was transparent. The water and the island roiled with shadows. She knew her time as a guest was almost up. Well, she would see if the barrier against Curses Foss had made was all she hoped. Ravens burst out of the pavilion in a great black cloud and in the same instant the pavilion went up in flames.
~~~
The Master of the Vaults reached the vault at the end, twisting his rings. He looked up and froze. Amarantha the witch was hunched in her usual postion, but the box was not in the air. For a moment, the shock of it froze him. He looked down at her. It was in her hands, and a large black raven was perched on her shoulder. She smiled.
~~~
The world went up in flames but the fire was shadow, air, nothing. She took a deep breath and called upon the barrier. She felt it burst from her veins and spill around her as the Curses rained down, Curses of transformation, confusion, enslavement and death. Her barrier buckled against the onslaught and she felt the Urkleis hammering against her ribcage like a second heart. Nia’s voice in her ear: Watch your back, Smidgen. She spun around, dagger in hand, to ward off the blow of a sword. The Faery was far quicker than she. It would be deadly to try and engage. And so she ran, through shadows that barely took shape. The air filled with arrows. With the feeling of tearing limb from limb, of breaking apart, she burst into ravens.
I imagine you’ll get used to it, came Nia’s voice.
Several of the ravens fell with the arrows of the faeries, and Eliza flew among them, one black bird in a frenzied mass.
You see – it’s always good for you when I try to kill you. Motivating. And yet you never say thank you.
Faery nets pulled ravens out of the air and the ravens vanished. Eliza rode the air higher, the pain and panic subsiding, exhilaration filling her. Thank you, she thought, laughing inside. She soared.
~~~
In the Old Language of the Faeries, the raven spoke the same words she had found through the spell of Deep Seeing: “I bind your will, from now and forever.” The Curse that had bound Amarantha, heavy and dark and alive, slipped from her with these words, and took the Master of the Vaults. His eyes widened and he fell to his knees. Amarantha rose over him, her eyes full of murder.
Bone, Fog, Ash & Star Page 18