Descent into the Depths of the Earth

by Paul Kidd - (ebook by Flandrel; Undead)

  “To meet Escalla.” Jus felt a nasty inward glow of satisfaction at a secret well kept. “When she comes, she’ll be coming fast. Have you got her gear?”

  Polk and Enid both sat in place. The cart stopped. The two travelers stared at Jus as he looked at them with an artfully raised brow.

  Polk blinked like a stunned owl. “B-but she said she was staying with the faeries!”

  “It was all a pack of lies! It’s what she does, Polk. Escalla says she owes it to future generations.” The big man pulled a coal from his pouch and popped it into Cinders’ mouth. He breathed deeply, filled with new energy. Suddenly it seemed to be a brighter day.

  “She’ll be escaping in a couple of hours. Come on! Looks like we’ll be on the run from the whole Seelie Court.”

  Cinders grinned like a mad piranha and energetically thumped his tail against Jus’ backside. Faerie coming back! Faerie coming back!

  The Justicar marched down the road with a new energy in his step. Polk and Enid exchanged one brief glance of joy and then hastened after him.

  “Son! Hey, son! But her father’s wishes! Ain’t you breaking a law or something?”

  “Law?” The Justicar walked onward, his face wreathed in a smile. “Polk, forced marriages are unjust.” The big man hitched his sword. “Don’t you remember? No one touches the faerie.”

  Polk suddenly grinned, flicked out his reins, and drove happily off along the road.

  “Hurry up, son! Quit yer dawdlin’, or we’ll be late!”

  The morning dawned bright. It always did. Illusion spells saw to it, and if winter shadows seemed at odds with a summer sun, then a flick of the imagination whisked all one’s troubles away.

  Escalla rose from her bed and felt the air flicker with spy spells as her mother’s agents kept a tight watch on their prey. The girl washed and dressed nicely in gray silk. The slowglass necklace had been thoughtfully placed to record her every movement in her sleep. Escalla looked levelly at the thing, then dropped it over her neck before turning to the business of the day.

  She spent her first hour of the morning painting upon a papyrus—a painting rich with colors, if a little scant on skill. She propped it up to dry, paced agitatedly about the room, and then fluttered into the morning sun.

  Mother awaited her on the lawns. They looked at one another—one lean and sculpted, the other lithe and sharp. Escalla’s mother finally turned and signaled for her daughter to walk with her.

  “You have been very curt with your betrothed. I expect you to treat him with more cordiality.”

  “He wanted to sip something, but it wasn’t cordial.” Escalla proudly held up her hems as she stepped over the lawn. “Are you pimping me now, mother?”

  The woman glared coldly at her daughter. “This clan has plans that reach far beyond mere woods and fields and streams. Tielle realizes it, but the gods have cursed us with having to seal our deal through you.”

  “Thank you, Mother. I love you, too.”

  “Lord Ushan is still fighting the bargain. He wants none of his power lost to Clan Nightshade.” Escalla’s mother could have been talking to the wind. “We need the nephew’s interest. Go to him tonight.”

  “I will not.”

  “You will You father may have forgotten the way you left us, but I have not.” Escalla’s mother turned a bitter glance upon the girl. “If this alliance fails, if you deny me the Court, then I shall seal you to keep the Queen of Wind and Woe permanent company.”

  “I’m sure you know the route.”

  Escalla’s mother had given her birth—but merely to bind Clan Nightshade’s lord to her in marriage. There was no love lost between mother and daughter. In Escalla’s view, detonating her mother might be the best favor that she could ever do for her father.

  The walk led about the house to the stables. A peculiar reek escaped the attention of faerie spellcasters, making Escalla frown. With her mind fixed upon her plans, Escalla’s mother scarcely seemed to care.

  “Go to your old rooms tonight,” her mother said, “but mind you don’t give him the whole cake! Enough of a nibble to prevent him wriggling out of the marriage tomorrow. Men are always fools enough to be caught by the glands.”

  Escalla gave a scornful sniff at her mother. “As I’m certain Father could tell me.”

  At the stables, Tarquil stood admiring a prime young faerie dragon. Tarquil sketched a bow toward Escalla. Watched by her mother, Escalla gave the man an interested appraisal and a smile.

  Mother approved. She retired from the field, leaving Escalla to turn away… and give a secret little smile.

  * * *

  By evening, Escalla’s preparations had been made. Her mother had kept her well away from any spellbooks. Any attempt at magic would bring the spies running, and all the main gateways to the Flanaess were set with alarms. But to a creature who had grown up here, who had played here and languished through a frustrated adolescence right here in the palace, there were countless other secret doors.

  As night fell, Escalla walked to a particular patch of orchids beside a pond filed with swans. She waved the illusions away and found a little patch of dandelions closing their petals to the slowly sinking sun. She plucked a flower and tucked it carefully into her cleavage.

  Escalla had dressed with care. She wore her slowglass necklace to please her mother’s spies and wore a dress of white silk that fit her like a second skin. She posed, feeling a shift in the air that told her that her mother’s invisible spy was pleased. With a last moment’s thought, she picked up the little painting she had made that morning and tucked it underneath her arm.

  The palace lay quiet—deliberately quiet. Mother had cleared the way, using her own spells to shield Escalla’s tryst from view. Escalla fluttered quietly onto her old balcony. Her sister’s room next door still showed a little gleam of light. Escalla sneered, then quietly sensed the way ahead for any spells.

  From the gardens, Tarquil’s bodyguard saw her. The faerie gave an oily smirk and deliberately turned his back, hiding his view of the room and balcony. Escalla seethed then dropped lightly down to make her way into her own loved and hated haunts.

  The room had been repainted but remained the same otherwise. A great arched mirror along one wall reflected the rock garden and a sumptuous bed. Lying face down, Tarquil seemed to be sleeping rather easily for a man about to be married, although the reek of alcohol in the room apparently told why. If anyone expected much activity from Tarquil tonight, they had sadly miscalculated.

  Escalla looked at the figure sprawled unmoving on her old bed and gave a laugh of contempt. She hung her painting above the balcony door, looked at it, frowned, set it straight, then turned back to the bed. It was time to get to business.

  Escalla hung her slowglass necklace from a door handle where it could overlook the bed. Mother must have her evidence!

  Moving with a deliberate, slow sensuality, Escalla stripped away her outer clothes. She started with her gloves, doing a little dance for the inevitable audience. Next came her slippers, and then the dress. Finally, she stood in stockings and sheer underwear. She whipped the gauzy curtains closed over the balcony and walked sensuously over to the bed.

  Escalla looked slyly back across her shoulder. The gauze curtains twitched and parted as something invisible stole softly into the room behind her. BOOM!

  Enid’s stun scroll, now framed and reversed with its back turned into a bad watercolor landscape, blasted magic downward as the spy crossed under it. A body jerked and thudded to the ground.

  “Gotcha!”

  Escalla laughed, jammed her gloves into the invisible spy’s mouth, tied him up with stockings, and shoved him beneath a pile of Tarquil’s laundry in the far corner of the room.

  Tarquil was still asleep, and Escalla had thirty seconds to spare. What girl could resist?

  Escalla took position in the eye of the slowglass necklace and gave a little wave. Whispering to the necklace, she slapped herself upon the rear.

  “
Hey, Tarquil! Here we go. Look and weep into your damned liquor!” Escalla made a face into the slowglass gem, gave a traditional sign with her finger, then threw her dandelion flower at her old mirror.

  The mirror flashed, shimmered, and a new gate opened into another world. Escalla took a running dive at the mirror and disappeared, the gate closing an instant after she plunged through.

  This was the route she had used for countless secret trips to the Flanaess in her teenage years—a route her mother had never been able to pin down. Escalla emerged half-clothed in a stream. It was pitch dark and cold as ice. The girl screeched, sending bubbles to the surface, then turned herself into a very long and wriggly eel.

  A pipe still led down into old irrigation drains. The eel sped along the waterway, stopping only to snatch a copper coin from a pile hidden in a sunken flowerpot many years ago. The eel whirled, sped past a row of sunken archways, and reached a deep, dark pool inhabited by a giant pike. The pike made a lunge, but Escalla the eel sped nimbly away. An archway of fallen rock stood out in the filtered underwater light. The eel used its copper coin as a pass. The coin flashed and disappeared, the gateway opened, and the eel sped through—

  To find itself falling freely through a forest sky.

  The gate exited from the arches of an ancient aqueduct. Escalla’s body flashed as she shifted shape. An instant later a rather large and fluffy owl flapped its way into the cold night air.

  To the south lay the seashore with its towns and boats and taverns—the world Escalla had spied upon as a little girl. To the north there lay nothing by the empty forest. With a smirk, the owl sped northward, scanning downward for a landmark it might recognize.

  There.

  A road with big statue heads. Escalla swooped downward, lofted over a village scattered with giants’ bones, and saw a distant castle with a teetering tower.

  Light glimmered beneath her as she turned a victory roll above the castle courtyard. She changed into her normal form and streamed down to be caught in a pair of waiting arms.

  “Ta-daaaaah!” Cradled in Jus’ grasp, Escalla threw her arms out in triumph. “She’s back, and she’s here to staaamwk—!”

  Escalla felt herself crushed in a bear hug. Jus held her in silence with his face pressed into her hair. Escalla felt her ribs creak but clung to him with glad ferocity. Above her, Cinders’ white teeth gleamed, and his red eyes shone. Hi!

  “Hey, pooch! I’m back.” Escalla managed to make herself some breathing room in Jus’ grasp. “I’m back.”

  Jus and Escalla stood clasped together for a long moment. Finally Escalla drew a breath and looked into the night.

  Polk had warmed a blanket for her at the fire. The teamster swept it around her, grinning like a maniac, and puffed with pride—clearly giving himself credit for having arranged the entire escape. Escalla opened her mouth to say hello and instead found Polk’s bottle jammed between her lips.

  “Drink, girl! It’ll warm you! Good for the blood, the adventuring blood!” Polk pulled the bottle free as Escalla turned green and gasped for breath. “Amphisbanae double-snake’s head whiskey! That pixie bottle of yours is a gem!”

  The faerie coughed as though trying to wrench her esophagus out of her throat. With tears in her eyes, she gave a thumbs up to Polk and Enid. Purring like a cage of satiated lions, Enid paced about in the background putting out fires and cleaning up the camp.

  Jus handed Escalla her cherished leather clothes, her battle wand, and her books of spells.

  “How long have we got?” he asked.

  “Maybe an hour—until morning, tops.” The girl dressed swiftly and efficiently, keeping one eye on the sky. “There’ll be faerie dragons, elf hounds, and faeries. Mother will probably summon eagles and stuff.”

  “What do we do?”

  “We head for a bolt hole and sit tight for a week.”

  The group walked out of the castle and followed Escalla toward the old moat. The girl hummed happily, hugging her ice wand tight against her heart. Behind her Enid politely fluffed her wings.

  “We’re terribly glad to have you back. How did the wedding preparations go?”

  “Oh, pretty good. Shame to miss it. They made a cake and everything!” Escalla turned and eagerly waved her hands. “You should have seen the dress! Pure white and bigger’n a landshark!”

  Walking at Escalla’s side, Jus flicked her a glance bright with secret delight. “A white wedding dress?”

  Hovering indignantly, the girl bridled. “Hey! I’m entitled!”

  “Oh?”

  Everyone turned to stare in amusement at Escalla, who instantly panicked as she felt her reputation fall to pieces.

  “N-n-not to say that I’m not experienced!”

  Jus’ teeth gleamed. “Yeah, how about with another person?”

  “Keep it up, baldie!” The faerie had turned a shade of scarlet. “Right now I’m thinking you’d look pretty good as a size eleven frog!”

  Flying haughtily on her way, the faerie swept down to the castle moat, trying to ignore the amused looks from behind her. She tugged her clothing into place, sniffed importantly, and hovered beside the pond.

  “If you people are quite finished, shall I show you how a true masters escape is done?”

  Cinders looked at her and sniggered happily. Funny!

  “Cinders, I don’t think a hearth rug with teeth has any call to be mocking my love life!” Escalla shook out her wings “Right. Now can we please get going?”

  Jus looked up at her and stroked his chin. “The faeries can fly, have magic faerie hounds, and use scrying spells. What’s the best way to evade them?”

  “Dunno.” Escalla gave a happy shrug. “We’re lucky! They’ll miss us somehow. Don’t worry about it.” The girl snapped her fingers. “Trust me. I’m a faerie!”

  Polk, Enid, Jus, and Cinders all simply looked at her. The Justicar sucked on a tooth and said, “Trust to luck? That’s your whole escape plan?”

  “Look. I just escaped from the whole Seelie Court! I can’t be expected to handle everything!” The faerie waved her hands in indignation. “Some of the details I have to leave to you!”

  The Justicar looked at the forest and gave a tired sigh. “Are all your escapes like this?”

  From a tree overhead, there came a sudden weary sigh. “Most of them.”

  Jus whirled, his hand on his sword.

  Escalla’s father sat on a tree bough, looking old, tired, and glum.

  Everyone stared up at the faerie lord. An uncomfortable silence reigned for long moments. Putting on her best innocent grin, Escalla gave him a timid little tinkle of a wave.

  “Hello, Dad. Ah…” Escalla gave a hopeful little flip of her antennae. “Why all the excitement in the forest?”

  “My dear, I believe they have come to ask you why you murdered Tarquil.” Lord Charn looked at his daughter and gave a heavy sigh. “This time you’ve really managed to outdo yourself.”

  When you wanted a fire in a hurry, Cinders was always ready to oblige. Sitting happily in the cellar of the ruined castle, the hell hound breathed little licks of flame from his nostrils to warm Jus’ battered old camp kettle. The brew steamed, and Jus loomed above the kettle to pour himself another serving before seeing to his guests. The Justicar patted Cinders on the head as he passed, making the hell hound thump his long tail against the floor.

  “Thanks, Cinders.”

  Welcome!

  Above the castle, an illusory light blinked and flared. It matched the movements of real faeries searching for the fugitive Escalla. For a while at least, the magic would keep the faerie hunt at bay.

  Deeply annoyed by events, Escalla sat high up near the ceiling on a jutting stone, her knees beneath her chin and a look of total annoyance on her face. She was in a magnificent sulk, seething and muttering as she shot clandestine looks at her father.

  Answering the implied question, Lord Charn snorted as he settled by the fire. “It’s my realm, girl. I picked it because of all the damn
ed gates I found here.” Frowning in annoyance, the faerie lord sipped tea from an old tin mug. “I just thought of what route I’d take if I was trying to avoid the wife. The pike fish told me the rest.”

  Finding a stone big enough for him, the Justicar sat down. “Pike? What pike?”

  “Carnivorous fish. Big one. Wife can’t stand them.” Lord Charn made a face as he tasted Jus’ abominable tea. “I put no end of things near gates to stop the wife going through.” The faerie lord gave a snort. “I have to have somewhere quiet to go.”

  “You stay in the woods here?”

  “Rather than the palace? When I can. Lets me get a bit of peace.” Carefully setting his tea aside before it could poison him, Lord Charn fluttered his wings. “Now there’ll be no damned peace till all this nonsense is done.”

  Perched upon her stone, Escalla shot a petulant look at her father. “Dad, I did not kill that stupid cavalier!”

  “Don’t be dense, girl!” Lit by the hell hound’s nostril flames, Lord Charn’s face took on sharp, wicked shadows. “If I thought you’d killed him, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you drinking tea!”

  Tired and annoyed, Lord Charn made the mistake of sipping the tea again. Wincing, he put the cup far away and turned to carefully regard the Justicar. The faerie lord’s eyes sparked as he measured the big warrior across the fire.

  “You went to White Plume Mountain? You were the one who did in Keraptis’ disciple?”

  “Escalla, Cinders, Polk, and myself.”

  “Yes.” The faerie lord sipped tea again, which distinctly tasted of the onion soup that had been made last night in the same pot. “Is my daughter any good?”

  Jus made a gruff noise, shifted his dire shadow in the gloom, and said, “She’s damned good, one of the best I’ve seen.”

  Above them, Escalla beamed.

  “Well, she’ll need to be.” Charn gave another sigh, then kicked irritably at a pebble. “She doesn’t belong with us.” The faerie lord spoke a spell, opened up his hands, and provided bottles of decent wine. “Here. It’s not faerie wine and certainly not the sixty-three.” That particular vintage seemed to have scarred some lives forever. “Sit, drink, and let me tell you a tale or three.”