‘Actually it was a bit beyond it,’ Pyrgus told them. ‘I’m not exactly sure because I was confused. I mean, I didn’t expect to end up here and I didn’t expect to be a titch with wings, so I staggered around a bit. Then I got drawn towards the bush –’
‘The buddleia bush?’ Fogarty asked.
‘If that’s what you call it. That one.’ He pointed.
‘What do you mean, drawn towards it?’
‘It’s just ... I don’t know ... I sort of liked the feel of it. Or the smell or something. Felt as if I’d be safe there.’
Fogarty shook his head. ‘Weird, that. Buddleias attract butterflies.’
As they moved towards the buddleia, Henry saw there were several butterflies on the bush and examined them carefully in case another one turned out to be a fairy. Pyrgus must have noticed what he was doing because he said quietly, ‘I came through on my own.’
Henry nodded, but checked the rest of the butterflies anyway. He was beginning to realise just how weird this whole business was. Yesterday he hadn’t believed in fairies. Today he actually knew one. And he knew there were others, generations descended from Landsman and his people who’d probably forgotten where they came from in the first place. A thought struck him and he asked Pyrgus, ‘Landsman and Arana and those ... where did they come out in our world when they went through the portal on the island?’
‘Don’t know,’ Pyrgus said.
‘It’s just that they spread all over the world,’ Henry said. ‘So it would have to be somewhere they could spread from. I mean, it couldn’t have been another little island, for example – they’d never have got off it.’
‘Don’t know,’ Pyrgus repeated. ‘I got taught this stuff when I was a kid, but I forget half of it. Anyway, nobody’s sure where the first ones came through. Don’t forget, it was hundreds of years before anybody else used a portal and hundreds of years after that before anybody made contact with the descendants of the originals. By then they’d nothing much in common with the people in my world and the stuff about the portal had turned into myths. Maybe it was England.’
‘This is England!’ Henry said excitedly.
‘I know,’ Pyrgus grinned. ‘Mr Fogarty told me.’
‘Just kidding me?’ Henry said. He didn’t mind. He liked Pyrgus.
‘Sort of,’ Pyrgus told him. ‘But I’d actually heard of England. I mean before I came here. So it must have been mentioned in my lessons, although I can’t remember why.’
They moved beyond the buddleia bush into a corner that was all shrub and weeds. Mr Fogarty had abandoned a couple of decaying oil drums and several rusting machine parts, including a car engine sump. They poked up out of the long grass like tombstones.
‘It was here,’ Pyrgus said at once.
‘You sure?’
‘Yes,’ Pyrgus said. ‘I thought I’d gone mad when I saw the junk.’ He looked round at Henry apologetically. ‘You have to remember I wasn’t expecting to shrink. Took me a couple of minutes to figure out what had happened.’
‘Remember exactly where?’ asked Fogarty. He looked around as if expecting to be attacked.
‘Not sure,’ Pyrgus said. ‘I think it might have been over there.’
They walked in the direction he was pointing. Even before they reached the spot, Henry could see a ring of discoloured, flattened grass. ‘Is that a fairy ring?’ he asked Mr Fogarty.
Fogarty was frowning. ‘More like a crop circle. Small one. You also get marks like that in UFO landings.’
‘Is it big enough for a UFO?’ Henry asked. He found he was frowning now too.
‘Naw, too small. Unless aliens drive compacts. But look at the colour of the grass. That’s some sort of radiation.’ To Pyrgus he said, ‘How does this portal of yours work?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Pyrgus said.
‘You’re not sure?’ Fogarty rounded on him. ‘You use the thing to get you from one dimension to another and you don’t even know how it works?’
To make peace, Henry said, ‘Maybe it’s like television, Mr Fogarty. I mean, I know how to switch it on and that, but I don’t know how it works, not really.’
‘I do,’ Fogarty said. ‘I know exactly. Could build one if I had the parts.’
‘Yes, but you know stuff like that,’ Henry said. Not for the first time he wondered what sort of engineer Mr Fogarty had been before he retired. He seemed to be able to build anything.
On Henry’s shoulder, Pyrgus said, ‘It’s an energy thing. The portal is some sort of energy that goes with volcanic action – ’ He hesitated. ‘Actually, I’m not sure of that. All the natural portals appear near volcanoes or at least places where there’s volcanic activity – hot springs, that sort of thing. But there hasn’t been a volcano near the one I came through for five hundred years or more. The old one went extinct and they, I don’t know, flattened it or something.’
‘Maybe you just need the volcano to start it off,’ Henry suggested helpfully. ‘Maybe once it starts, it stays on of its own accord.’
They both ignored him. Pyrgus said, ‘The filter works through trapped lightning.’
‘Trapped lightning?’ Fogarty frowned. ‘You mean electricity?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Same stuff that drives your speaker.’
‘I don’t know,’ Pyrgus said again.
‘It has to be electric,’ Fogarty muttered. ‘And the portal must be some sort of field. The flames you see aren’t hot at all, not even warm?’
‘No.’
‘Henry, poke around a bit. See if you notice anything odd. Pyrgus, try to remember anything, anything at all that might be useful.’ He crouched down to examine the circle of discoloured grass more closely.
Henry made his way cautiously into the undergrowth, casting his eyes around for anything that might look unusual. It was tough going. The corner was full of stones as well as the junk Mr Fogarty had abandoned. On his shoulder, Pyrgus said, ‘You’ve no idea how peculiar it is to be this size, Henry. Nothing looks right and you get lost every five yards. I think I came through where there’s that circle on the grass, but I’m not sure.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Henry said. ‘We’ll find some way to get you back.’ He wished he felt as certain as he tried to sound.
They circled back to Mr Fogarty, who was still staring at the grass. Henry opened his mouth to say something when a loud ringing sound made him jump.
‘Careful!’ hissed Pyrgus.
Fogarty dragged a tiny mobile phone from his pocket, switched it on clumsily and placed it to his ear as if it were a bomb. ‘What do you want?’ After a moment he muttered, ‘Right’, and pushed the phone back into his pocket. ‘Brain cancer if you use it too long.’ He looked over at Henry. ‘Your mother,’ he said shortly. ‘She wants you to get home. At once.’
Henry’s heart sank to his boots. In all the excitement, he’d nearly managed to forget what was going on at home.
Ten
Her Serene Highness Princess Holly Blue thought something was amiss when she stepped from her bedchamber to find a priest running down the palace corridor outside. Priests never ran anywhere, even technician priests. They processed in a dignified fashion at a stately pace and, if you wanted one in a hurry, you damn well had to wait. But this one was running, the skirts of his ceremonial robes flying up to show his hairy shanks. He made a screeching turn around the corner and seconds later she heard his footfalls on the main staircase.
Blue stepped back into her chamber and walked over to the window. The running priest emerged from a doorway below, scattering a group of servants, and careered across the courtyard to disappear through an archway on the other side. He might be heading for the chapel or the kitchens or even the main entrance to the palace. But why was he running?
Blue chewed her lower lip. There was far too much going on she didn’t know about just now. It had taken her days to find Pyrgus and heaven only knew what might have happened if someone else had found him first. Not that she entirely
blamed herself – Pyrgus was unbelievably stupid sometimes and this bee in his bonnet about living as a commoner was about as thick as it got. A commoner. She shuddered. It took lifetimes of self-sacrifice to get born a prince and Pyrgus was prepared to throw it all away. Besides, he wasn’t just a prince. He was Crown Prince. He should be learning how to rule instead of mixing with hoi polloi. Luckily he’d have her to advise him when he became Emperor, but even so ...
Except it wasn’t just Pyrgus. There was something going on between her father and the Faeries of the Night. Not just the recent discussions. There was something else. She could smell it. Too many comings and goings. Too many little chats in shadows. Too many strange faces at the palace. The other thing was that her father had stopped talking to her. Well, not stopped exactly. But if she tried to discuss politics, he changed the subject. If she so much as mentioned Faeries of the Night, he almost ran for cover. Even when she told him Black Hairstreak had it in for Pyrgus, he’d seemed more embarrassed than grateful. But at least he’d taken action, which was something.
Blue walked slowly back from the window and sat down at her dressing table. She stared at the ornate jewel case for a long moment. She’d never done this to her father before. But then she’d never had to. She reached out and fingered the clasp. Perhaps it was going a bit far. But then again, wasn’t it going a bit far that her father had stopped confiding in her? What was a girl supposed to do? She flicked the clasp, but didn’t open the lid.
Where was the harm? It wasn’t as if she couldn’t be trusted. It wasn’t as if she was some sort of spy for the Nighters. She had Father’s best interests at heart. Everybody knew that. Even he knew that, if he cared to admit it. Besides, she was a Princess of House Iris. Third in line for the throne. Didn’t that count for anything? Didn’t that mean she should never be kept in the dark?
Blue stood up abruptly, walked across the room and locked her door. Princess of House Iris or not, what she was about to do was illegal and she would be in truly gigantic trouble if her father ever found out. Fortunately that wasn’t very likely.
She walked back to the dressing table and opened the casket. After a moment, the psychotronic spider crawled out, its great eyes blinking in the light. The creature had a rainbow back, like a skim of oil reflecting sunlight. It crawled aimlessly around the dressing table for a moment, examining her brush and comb, lurking near her perfume bottles. Then it moved purposefully towards her, halted at the edge of the table and waited.
Blue reached for her little wicker sewing box. She hated this bit, but it had to be done. She took out a silver needle, licked her lips nervously, then pricked the tip of her finger. She wiped the needle clean and dropped it back into the sewing box. The spider seemed to quiver in anticipation.
Ignoring the pain, Blue squeezed the finger until a single drop of bright red blood welled up and dropped beside the insect on the table top. The spider turned towards it at once and began to feed. In a moment, the table top was clean again. Blue sat back and waited, willing her slim body to relax. Impatient minutes passed before – at last! – she felt the familiar scratching on the edges of her mind. The blood was the link, of course. Her blood, her mind. It was a small enough sacrifice, she supposed, but without it the spider was no more useful than an ordinary bug.
Blue closed her eyes and opened her mind. She felt the alien presence of the psychotronic spider at once, alert, cautious and strangely familiar. She reached out a mental tendril and stroked it gently. The spider wriggled and trilled like a kitten. It was ready to accept her. In her mind, she touched it, held it, felt it blend with her.
It was as if a shutter opened and light flooded through. Her perceptions suddenly expanded. She caught her breath and fought down the sudden excitement as she became aware of not just her room, but the whole upper storey of the palace, then the palace itself, then the island, then –
Rein back! she told herself. This was the most dangerous time. If her perceptions continued to expand, she would be insane within minutes. Yet even knowing that, she wanted the expansion to continue. The feeling that went with it was like nothing else she’d ever experienced, an exhilaration that bordered on ecstasy. This was precisely why the use of psychotronic spiders was outlawed, even in the Imperial Espionage Service. Too many good operatives had ended up as cabbages, happily crooning to themselves as their minds examined distant reaches of the universe.
Rein back! She had a talent for it. Her curiosity, her need to know, had always been far stronger than the pull of pleasure. Now she imposed a focus that drew her attention away from the all and everything, back to the palace, back to her room. With a curious flicker, she saw the room through the eyes of the spider itself, all distorted planes and angles filled with giant furniture and sweeps of patterned textures. She released her mental grip a little and expanded again, but not too much. Now it felt only that she had escaped from her body and was rushing through a windswept tunnel to her goal.
An instant later she was standing in the private quarters of her father, Apatura Iris, the Purple Emperor.
There were two men in the book-lined chamber, her father himself and Gatekeeper Tithonus. Both were informally dressed and held brandy balloons, but the expressions on their faces showed this was no casual meeting.
‘– did lose his temper. Both of us did,’ her father was saying. ‘But at least he listened. I think I may have you to thank for that.’
Tithonus shrugged. ‘He’s safe now. It’s all that matters.’
‘Indeed,’ the Emperor nodded. ‘But unfortunately that doesn’t solve our problems.’
‘No, sire, but it does simplify them a little,’ Tithonus said smoothly. He set down his glass and turned to look directly at Blue.
The illusion was so real she felt she should duck behind a screen and hide. But she knew she didn’t need to. However much it felt like she was here, her physical body was still in her bedroom. Only her consciousness was visiting and that was quite invisible.
‘Any further intelligence on the troop movements?’ her father asked.
Blue was instantly alert. Troop movements? She hadn’t heard anything about troop movements. Who was moving troops? Her father? She’d have known. She was sure she’d have known. Besides, he wouldn’t have used the word intelligence if he was talking about his own soldiers. Intelligence meant information collected by the Imperial Espionage Service. Information on somebody else’s troop movements.
Even without her body, she felt a chill. There was something going on between her father and Black Hairstreak, negotiations that were supposed to heal the ancient rift between Faeries of the Light and Faeries of the Night. They’d been under way for months so far as she could gather. Until now she’d assumed it was the usual horse-trading, each side jostling for the best position possible, after which things would settle down for a few years. But troop movements meant something far more serious. Troop movements meant war. Or at least the threat of war. No wonder her father looked worried.
Tithonus said, ‘Lord Hairstreak continues to insist it’s just manoeuvres, nothing to do with the current negotiations. But the build-up’s very large for a routine exercise and reinforcements are still coming in.’
‘Sabre-rattling?’ the Emperor asked. ‘His way of wringing a few more concessions out of the negotiations?’
‘Possibly,’ Tithonus said. ‘I have, however, taken the precaution of placing our own forces on alert.’
‘You really think he would risk an all-out attack?’
Tithonus frowned. ‘I find it hard to believe. But whatever he has in mind may be part of some larger scheme. Don’t forget he was planning to murder Pyrgus.’
Murder? Blue blinked phantom eyes. She hadn’t known that! Why would he want to kill her brother? It would gain him a lot less than simply taking Pyrgus prisoner. That way he could use him to bargain.
‘I still don’t understand what it would have gained him,’ her father said, echoing her own thought.
‘Neither do
I,’ said Tithonus, ‘but there’s no doubt it’s what he was planning.’
‘Perhaps – ’ The Emperor stopped, interrupted by a sharp knocking on his door. He glanced at Tithonus.
Tithonus said nothing, but opened the door a crack, then murmured something to someone outside. Blue moved to eavesdrop on the exchange, but before she reached the door, Tithonus stepped back and a chapel priest entered. He moved forward nervously and knelt before the Emperor. ‘Majesty, grave news.’ Blue wasn’t absolutely certain, but she thought this was the same priest she’d seen running in the corridor.
Her father waited, face impassive.
‘Majesty, I –’
‘Come on, man,’ said the Emperor mildly. ‘Spit it out!’
The priest could not meet his eye. He swallowed loudly, hesitated, then said all of a rush, ‘Majesty, Crown Prince Pyrgus has not reached his destination.’
For a moment, the only expression on the Emperor’s face was puzzlement. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Sire, the translation appeared to be routine. As you saw. We had no reason to – No reason to – ’ He looked up at the Emperor imploringly. ‘Sire, we have made routine contact with Lulworth and Ringlet. Prince Pyrgus has not joined them.’
‘What?’ the Emperor exploded.
Tithonus said sharply, ‘I saw him enter the portal myself.’
The priest glanced at him miserably. ‘We all did, Gatekeeper.’
‘Then where has he gone?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Where could he have gone?’ Tithonus asked insistently.
The priest dropped his eyes again. ‘Anywhere,’ he murmured.
Blue withdrew her consciousness so violently her body went into spasm in the bedroom. She gasped, then stretched to unlock her muscles. Her heart was racing. Pyrgus had vanished! She grabbed the psychotronic spider and dropped it back into the jewel box. Then she ran from her room.
The chapel was in chaos. Dozens of technician priests seemed to be running here and there to no purpose whatsoever. Blue’s eyes went at once to the portal. The space between the twin pillars was devoid of the familiar flames. In their place hung a dirty grey fog, all that was left of the natural portal owned by House Iris. To one side, part buried in the chapel floor, were the great machines that maintained it now and gave it life. But their metallic covers had been stripped away and component parts were strewn about.
Faerie Wars Page 10