Ill Met by Moonlight

by Mercedes Lackey

  “And so I would do, if it were necessary,” the sheriff agreed. “But it seems, Lady Elizabeth, that this will not be necessary. He was a madman, for all agree that your armsmen did not kill him. When he realized he could not harm Mistress Parry any further, he turned the knife on himself. Your man Ladbroke seems to think he knew he would face the hangman, and preferred to take his own life.”

  Having pleased everyone and satisfied himself that no one was to blame and that there never had been any threat to the king’s daughter, the sheriff made ready to depart. Mistress Champernowne, following him to the outer door, asked nervously whether there was any need to report the matter to the king since no threat had been directed at Lady Elizabeth, and that, indeed, it was purely by accident that Lady Elizabeth had returned to the stable and been present.

  The sheriff hemmed and hawed a bit, but since he had not the slightest desire to bring Henry’s irritable attention on himself, since so few people knew of the incident and all of them would be silent, and since Mistress Champernowne explained how very anxious Lady Elizabeth was not to trouble her father when he was so busy planning the war against France, the sheriff had his clerk tear up the pages.

  Stover, who had no family, was buried quietly on the waste-ground used for paupers’ graves, and Ladbroke found a new groom, solidly honest and respectable, to take his place. In the palace, life returned to normal. Elizabeth studied with Master Grindal in the morning and, depending on the weather, rode or did needlework in the afternoon—except that Denoriel now always met her in the stable rather than in the park.

  Normal, however, had little to do with peaceful. Elizabeth wanted the weapons Denoriel had promised her, and she prodded him constantly to arrange for her visit Underhill. The matter was not totally within Denoriel’s control; he needed to arrange for lessons with Tangwystl—and he could not find her. She was gone from the Academicia on some business for Queen Titania.

  Had it been anyone else, Denoriel would have pursued Tangwystl, since his meetings with Elizabeth were degenerating into sparring matches of “You promised” and “Have patience.” However, Denoriel did not want to draw Titania’s attention to the situation, and he bemoaned Elizabeth’s intransigence and impatience to Harry one day when they were dining together at his house. Harry laughed heartily and reminded him that they had both bewailed the color of Elizabeth’s hair even when she was a baby.

  “That,” Denoriel said, grimacing, “is the horrible truth, but of no help at all.”

  “Yes, but I think I can be of help,” Harry said, between chuckles. “I don’t suppose you want her taught any of the great magics—”

  “Grace of God, no!” Denoriel exclaimed, looking horrified. “I shudder to imagine what she would do with them. Probably turn me into a toad. And, anyway, I do not think she has the power to use them—except if she were badly frightened or furiously angry.”

  “Ah …” Harry raised his brows and then shook his head. “I do not think that would be a good time to invoke the greater magics. No, what you would want is some small, simple spells that could delay any threat until Dunstan or her guardsmen arrived.”

  “Exactly,” Denoriel agreed, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Tanglefoot, for instance. Or the ability to push a person without touching him or even coming near.”

  Harry nodded and grinned. “And let us hope she will not take to pushing those who annoy her down the stairs.” He nodded again, looking satisfied. “Elidir or Mechain could teach her such simple spells. Even fire-lighting.”

  “No!” Denoriel exclaimed, thinking of all too many ways Elizabeth could cause mischief with that spell. “She will surely lose her temper and set someone’s hair afire—likely mine! Let us leave out fire-lighting.”

  Chuckling, Harry agreed to tell his friends not to teach Elizabeth to light fires. Then he frowned. “My only doubts are that they are old, Denno, old. They may not wish to teach a mortal.”

  Only it seemed that Harry had not realized quite how old Elidir and Mechain were. They had been young in a time when Sidhe and mortal were far closer and they were quite enthusiastic about teaching a mortal child. Add in that Harry was ecstatic at the chance to see Elizabeth again, and they were all in Denoriel’s house before he and Elizabeth arrived.

  For the purpose of Elizabeth getting her own way, nothing could have been better. She arrived in her nightdress—because Denoriel had decided to take her Underhill while she was supposed to be asleep, thus saving any need for excuses for her absence—looking very small and frail. Harry enveloped her in his arms, and she clung to him, weeping a little with joy. That was more than enough to win her the elder Sidhes’ favor; such sweet expressions of emotion were as nectar to their senses. Then he presented her to the two Sidhe. She curtsied prettily to each of them and asked what she should call them.

  Denoriel almost groaned aloud as he saw delighted expressions begin to steal over their faces. It was plain in minutes that both were already enslaved and soon would be as besotted as Harry. Denoriel hurried Elizabeth upstairs to change her clothes, but it was already too late.

  “Such a sweet child,” he heard Elidir say.

  “And clever too,” Mechain added with a little sigh. “Did you see how bright were her eyes?”

  Perhaps if Elizabeth had been slow to learn, they would have grown bored with her. But all her initial awkwardness with doing magic had been rubbed away by Tangwystl, and she responded with eager willingness to their gentler instruction. She learned Tanglefoot quickly, picking up the liquid syllables and repeating them together faultlessly—just as Denoriel was crossing the dining room. He tripped and would have fallen hard if he had not caught himself on the table.

  Elizabeth jumped to her feet, her eyes wide, her hands across her mouth. Elidir laughed. Harry choked. Mechain apologized for not having noticed him.

  She shook her head, her white hair flowing about her shoulders like a mist. “I should have warned Elizabeth that she must not look at anyone before starting the spell or it would take hold on that person. I am so sorry.”

  Denoriel gave Elizabeth an “I’ll talk to you about this later” look but to Mechain he said, smiling, “She is full of mischief, this mortal, but I am very glad your teaching is bearing fruit.”

  “Her power is mostly locked within,” Elidir said, frowning. “And I cannot see any way to reach it, but she is quick and clever at using what she can touch. With small spells—”

  “Will not the one be enough?” Mechain asked. “The child is tired.”

  That was true. Elizabeth’s eyes were heavy-lidded and her shoulders slumped.

  “Bessie, why didn’t you say you were tired?” Harry cried, going to stand beside her. “Here, love, I’ll carry you up to your room and you can sleep. I forgot that Denno brought you here after a full day in the Upper World.”

  “But I want to learn the other spells,” Elizabeth protested, tears coming to her eyes.

  “And we want to teach them to you,” Mechain said, reassuringly, also coming to her and stroking her hair. “Go up to bed now, sweet child, and we will decide whether to come again or to make this a longer visit. Fear not, Denoriel can return you to your bed an hour or so before dawn, no matter how many days you spend here.”

  Courteously, Denoriel asked whether waiting now for Elizabeth to wake and eat or returning at some other time would be better for Mechain and Elidir. Both laughed.

  “We have little enough to do just now,” Elidir said. “We have set traps in Alhambra and must wait some time to ease the suspicions of our enemies before we can spring them. El Dorado … that is another problem.”

  Mechain nodded. “None of us can think of a plan for dealing with the Great Evil. Sawel even brought a priest from the Upper World with his books and candles and holy water. I could swear it laughed …”

  “Laughed?” Elidir repeated. “I could swear it and what the priest believed were of the same kind, only it was perverted into a kind of madness.”

  “So Sawel
and others are studying what has been done to deal with the Great Evil in the past,” Mechain said. “And we, who are not scholars but merely the hands that do the work, are free to teach that enchanting child how to protect herself. The question is what is best for her, and, of course, for you, Denoriel.”

  “My sole business of late is to guard Elizabeth.” Not knowing how much Harry had told them, Denoriel explained the danger that threatened Elizabeth from the Unseleighe-driven forces, and from simple human envy. By that time, Harry had come down and reported that Elizabeth was sound asleep.

  Some discussion followed on who must not learn of Elizabeth’s absences, what the consequences of such a discovery would be, and how a discovery of the absences might occur. At last Elidir said, “How good is your control of time through the Gates, Denoriel? Could you bring her back before morning of the night you took her if we kept her here for some time?”

  “I kept Harry for several sleeps—which were probably equivalent to that many days—and brought him back safely perhaps twelve mortal hours after I had taken him Underhill. I am better at magic now, but I would not want the mortal time to be more than ten hours, nine would be better. One more sleep would be safe. If time is compressed too much there can be ill effects on mortals.”

  Elidir looked at Mechain. “Will that be time enough?”

  “It depends.” Mechain turned her eyes on Denoriel and he saw how pale and grayed the green had become over the eons; nonetheless, the eyes were bright. “How much magic and how complex you want the child to have.”

  “As simple as possible and not dangerous. No fire-lighting,” he said, just a little sternly. “You call her sweet, but that child has a temper to match the color of her hair and she is only a child. If she were a few years older, I would say to teach her anything her limited power could accomplish.” He closed his eyes for a moment in thought. “Perhaps when she is older I will bring her back for more lessons, but for now I cannot trust her to moderate what she does. It would be best if she had only spells to delay or confound an attack on herself or her maid until she can scream for help. Remember, help is never far from the king’s daughter. Her guardsmen are usually right outside her door.”

  “Then what would be best, I think, is to keep her here this time,” Elidir said. “Coming and going is always more dangerous even in the World Above. Gates are not perfect, especially temporary ones, which you said you have set into her maid’s chamber, so you want to use them as seldom as possible. Also if you were to be caught in the maid’s room, that would be bad. Yes, we will also teach her gwthio-cilgwthio and what you call stickfoot, for now.”

  “She will confuse them,” Mechain protested. “Several elements of both spells are similar.” Then she nodded. “But, no, I know how we can do it in a short time. We can teach her the first spell as soon as she rises and has eaten. Then we will take her to look about Underhill a little. When she is rested and the gwthio-cilgwthio spell is cleared from her mind, we can teach her stickfoot.”

  Since Denoriel agreed that there was no sense in stressing his temporary Gate and that repeated coming and going would more likely be detected than a single absence, he accepted the plan. They ate a meal; Denoriel was able to explain more fully the FarSeers’ predictions about the three future rulers. Eventually Harry went up to sleep in Denoriel’s bed and the three Sidhe sat together talking.

  When Elizabeth woke, she asked at once about the new spells, which made Elidir and Mechain marvel at her eagerness and application. She said she was accustomed to learning and that she took great pleasure in it, and there was no mistaking her pride—nor her certainty that she could master anything she put her mind to.

  Mechain carefully explained that magic was different than anything she had learned until now. “A small mistake in a Latin translation only requires scraping out and correction; a small mistake in a spell can have disastrous results.”

  Elidir then told her their plan for making sure she had the spells well separated. She was delighted with the idea of seeing more of Underhill in between lessons, but what she really wanted to see, she told her doting Da and teachers, was one of the chaos lands. She wanted to see something created from the magical mists.

  Elidir and Mechain were enchanted by the idea. Of course a mortal would be interested in creation, they said to each other and, she was Talented. She might even feel the power in the mists. They consulted seriously about which of the Unformed places they knew would be best. Denoriel urged an old one, thinned of most of its power. Elizabeth protested. Her besotted Da and his friends suggested a compromise.

  There was a particular place that Elidir and Mechain had been using to create creatures that assisted them in their hunts in Alhambra and El Dorado. They knew the place to be particularly sensitive to creation, and although the beasts they had made were dangerous, they were quite certain that they had not allowed any of them to escape. In addition, the creatures were keyed not to attack them and, of course, Harry would stand by with his gun in case all else failed.

  “And when you have created something for me, we can go to one of the markets, can we not?” Elizabeth asked, bright-eyed … and boldly biting off the whole hand since a finger had been offered. “And will you buy me something that I can bring back with me so I can remember you all better?” she begged pathetically.

  “Of course I will—”

  Denoriel sighed. That had been a chorus of three voices. But there were also expressions of surprise at what the child had said, and Denoriel murmured quickly, “Nic yn awr.”

  Later, while Elidir was teaching Elizabeth not only the spell but how to create it and store it, all except the invoking word, so it was ready for use in a moment, Denoriel drew Mechain aside and explained to her why Elizabeth had been convinced that nothing the Sidhe had was real in the World Above unless it was specially bespelled.

  “If she is queen and hard pressed for funds, might she not come here to take home gold for her needs … if she believed the gold would save her realm?” he pointed out. “Even Queen Titania had that fear, and I think it is a wise one. I do not say she would wish to do it, but necessity is a hard master, and we cannot answer for what the adult will do that the child would never even consider.”

  “Mortals were not thus in the past,” Mechain sighed. “Yet I know what you say is true, for it was mortals, driven by this perverted spirit, that destroyed Alhambra and El Dorado. It is sad to lie to a child, but a wise precaution.”

  Elidir, having completed his lesson, called Mechain to test Elizabeth’s comprehension and accomplishment. They went out into the palace and found a few human servants upon whom Elizabeth could use gwthio-cilgwthio. First she sharply shoved an innocent boy, fortunately only carrying linens, down a long corridor so that the tablecloths flew every which way out of his arms. Mechain applauded the correct use of gwthio.

  Next Elizabeth caused one of the mortal grooms in the stable to be unable to reach the manger he was going to clear, pushing him back every time he tried to step forward. That was an adequate demonstration of her understanding and use of cilgwthio. It was also, Mechain pointed out, a good example of the difference in result produced by one half syllable and a slightly higher tone of voice. Elizabeth took serious note of what Mechain said … and then pushed another groom so that he sat down suddenly in a pile of manure.

  Mechain was laughing too much to reprove her charge adequately and she brought a happily giggling Elizabeth back, singing praises to how well the child had learned and how competently she had used the spells.

  “I never doubted that she would learn,” Denoriel said sourly. “Elizabeth learns everything well and easily, but did you tell her that she is only to use the spells when they are necessary for protection?”

  Elizabeth sniffed.

  Elidir chuckled and said, “She is only a child, Denoriel. A little playfulness …”

  “A little playfulness in the mortal world could get her called ‘witch’ and send her to the gallows or the stake,” Den
oriel said sharply, then turned to her and added, “Did you hear me, Elizabeth? If people continually trip on their own feet, fall down stairs, or cannot reach a goal in your presence, the accidents will soon be connected with you. Think how quickly Stafford ran to report that you were meeting a man in the garden. Think what he would say if you were always present about so many ‘accidents.’ Nothing would protect you then. Think how many people would be pleased to call you ‘witch’! And while you are at it, think about who would or could be accused of teaching you witchcraft, and what would happen to them!”

  He did not remind her that her mother had been (and often was still) called a witch. That it was not on the charge of witchcraft, but adultery, that she had been executed was perhaps only because Henry had found “evidence” enough for the latter charge.

  And Blanche was a witch. She would certainly go to the stake. Kat Champernowne might. Her faithful menservants might come in for accusation. And certainly her beloved tutors would. The stain might even spread upward, to the queen.

  Elizabeth hung her head; Harry came close and put an arm around her. “Love, Denno’s right. You need to be careful.”

  “I always need to be careful,” Elizabeth said tearfully.

  Harry dropped a kiss on her head. “I know—and I really do know. It was like that for me, too. It isn’t much fun to be always watched and need to be careful. I wish there were something I could do, but even if I could live in the World Above I would be more harm than help. We could hardly ever be together and never alone—your enemies and mine would say we were conspiring against Prince Edward.”

  “Oh, I never would,” Elizabeth cried. “Edward is my brother and a very good, sweet, little boy. I love him.”

  “You know that and I know that,” Harry said sadly. “I never wanted to be king. It made my skin crawl to think of bearing that burden. But no one ever believed me.”