The Purple Emperor fw-2

by Herbie Brennan

  The door was extraordinary. It was nearly a foot thick and banded in metal for extra strength as if the designers had expected to lock up a dinosaur. It had some sort of spell coating that made a sound like fingernails across a blackboard every time he went near it. He didn't think the guards had literally thrown away the key, but he suspected he might be here for a very long time indeed.

  Henry set his back against the wall and slid down to the floor to think. What had happened to Blue? What had happened to Pyrgus? And who on earth was Quercusia?

  He had to find Blue and Pyrgus, had to find out what had happened. He had to get out of here.

  Henry looked around his cell. There must be something he could use to escape, something he could break apart for digging or picking the lock or beating up the guard like they did in the movies. But the chamber was empty. No furnishings. No table, no chairs. Not even a mattress on the floor. Nothing but a moth-eaten rug thrown into one corner.

  He stopped his eyes roaming and stared. Why would they give him a rug and nothing else?

  Henry pushed himself abruptly to his feet. That was no rug!

  'You can stop skulking in the corner now,' he called.

  'I'm not skulking,' said the endolg. 'I was asleep. You woke me from a lovely dream.' It started to crawl towards him. 'Oh, it's Henry. Hello, Henry – or do you prefer "Iron Prominent" these days?'

  Henry frowned. 'Do I know you?'

  'Sure you do. I was the one shopped you to the guard upstairs. Fat lot of good it did me.'

  For a moment Henry continued to stare at the creature. Then it came to him. The endolg was referring to Henry's attempt to free Mr Fogarty from the dungeons on their first visit to the Realm. Henry had tried lying to the guard and an endolg in the outer office had spotted it at once.

  'That was you?' he asked.

  'In the fur.'

  'They sent you here to spy on me?' He couldn't imagine why. But then he couldn't imagine why he was here in the first place.

  'Ah, the self-centred certainties of youth!' the endolg exclaimed philosophically. 'It's nothing to do with you. That loony old plud had me jailed.'

  Somehow Henry knew the loony old plud was Quercusia. 'Why?'

  'Why did she have me jailed? Didn't like the look of my pelt. Didn't like the colour of my eyes. Who knows why that barm-brack does anything? She'll have the dungeons full in a month – and Asloght Jail as well, if she keeps on the way she's going. It was a bad day for the Realm when Comma let her out.'

  Comma let her out? The endolg mightn't be much use in smashing out of here, but it suddenly occurred to Henry that it could give him an awful lot of much-needed information. 'I've been away for weeks,' he said. 'What's been happening?'

  For a horrible moment he thought the endolg wasn't going to answer, but then it sighed deeply. 'Where to begin? You know Prince Pyrgus has been sent into exile?'

  Henry nodded. 'Is Blue with him? Princess Blue?'

  'Princess Blue and Gatekeeper Fogarty. All history now.' The endolg sighed again.

  'How did this happen?' Henry asked. He could hardly believe it. The last thing he'd heard was that Pyrgus was getting ready for his Coronation.

  'Orders of his father,' the endolg said.

  Henry stared at it. 'His father's dead,' he blurted.

  'He was alive and kicking last time I saw him,' said the endolg. 'Well, alive, anyway: he didn't look so good.'

  'Last time you saw him? When was that?'

  'Couple of days. Before the loony old plud had me thrown down here.'

  'Are you sure?'

  'You don't know much about endolgs, do you?' remarked the endolg. 'We can't lie.' It wriggled slightly as if it had an itch. 'Seventy-eight brain cells missing. Doesn't sound like much, but it means we just can't do it. Any time an endolg says something definite, you can take it that's the truth. If we're not sure about something, we say "maybe" or "perhaps" or "somebody told me" or whatever. I saw the Purple Emperor alive, couple of days ago, in this palace. I'm sure. You can believe it.'

  Henry couldn't believe it. Pyrgus's father had been shot at close range with a shotgun. But maybe the blast really hadn't killed him. Even in his own world there were people who fell into a coma and the doctors thought they were dead.

  'Comma's on the throne now – or will be when he's crowned and confirmed. Purple Emperor Elect and Royal Pain in the Ass. Comma. Can you imagine it? First thing he did was let his mother out.'

  'Out of where?' Comma's mother had to be the old Emperor's second wife. Henry had vaguely thought she was dead.

  'The West Wing. They kept her locked up there for years.'

  It suddenly struck Henry who the endolg must be talking about. 'Comma's mother is Quercusia, isn't she? Why was she locked up?'

  'Because she's mad, of course. You know that. They're all mad in her family.'

  'Who's her family?' Henry asked curiously.

  'Quercusia is Lord Hairstreak's sister,' said the endolg.

  CHAPTER FORTY THREE

  Pyrgus was finding it difficult to believe what he was seeing.

  Close on a thousand faeries had poured into the forest clearing and more were joining them at every minute. They seemed to be emerging out of the very trees, as Pyrgus himself had emerged from a tree only moments before, along with Nymph and others on the transporter. The spells that allowed them to do so had to be related to the portal technology that translated you to another dimension, but he'd never seen anything like this before. The thing was, you didn't translate to another dimension. You went into a hollow shaft in the tree. At least that's what he'd done. But to do that, you passed through the solid trunk of the tree itself. Which was some spell. He'd never even heard of a Halek wizard who could do it. He wondered how the Forest Faerie managed it.

  An errant thought occurred to him. With a spell like that, no castle was safe. You could take an army right through its walls.

  The Forest Faerie were organising themselves in ranks even though not all of them were wearing the green military uniform. Perhaps the rest were off-duty soldiers, or perhaps they were just naturally disciplined. He looked round for Nymph to ask her, but she was nowhere in sight now. Nor was Madame Cardui. He felt a flash of embarrassment at his attempt to strangle her.

  Blue emerged from the tree trunk frowning a little. Mr Fogarty came out behind her and turned at once to look at the tree.

  'Do you know how they do that?' Pyrgus asked him quietly.

  'No, but I'd like to,' Mr Fogarty said.

  Blue said, 'Pyrgus, what's happened to -' Then stopped as the entire throng in the clearing suddenly went quiet. Heads began to turn in the direction of a forest path. Distantly, Pyrgus could hear a sound like the tinkling of temple bells.

  Two horsemen rode into the clearing and separated either side of the path. Although nobody said anything, the crowd flowed – there was no other word for it – to make space, then flowed again to open up an empty circle in the middle of the clearing. Pyrgus found himself on its edge, along with Blue and Mr Fogarty, isolated from the main body of Forest Faerie. He wondered if he should step back, but decided against it. At least he'd have a good view here of whatever might be going on, and if anybody wanted him to move, they could tell him. He noticed neither Blue nor Mr Fogarty looked much like moving either.

  A party of mounted archers was approaching down the path. The armament looked primitive to Pyrgus, but he was quickly learning not to underestimate these people. Their elf-bolts had proven capable of piercing the adamantine silver armour of the ouklo cabin, so perhaps their arrows had special spell coatings as well.

  An arrow might not be the latest in weapons technology, but if -

  A thought struck him. The elf-bolts must have made use of the same magic that allowed Forest Faerie to pass into their own trees. If their arrows had the same coating, there was no armour in the world that would protect against them. They might even be able to shoot through solid stone!

  The sound of bells came nearer. Pyrgus tur
ned his attention back to the path. There was an even larger mounted party following the archers. 'They use horses,' he murmured to himself, frowning. It was clear from their overhead transporter – and their foo discs -that they had levitation spells. Why not use them here?

  'More efficient among trees,' Gatekeeper Fogarty murmured back. 'You don't have to guide a good horse – it finds its own way around obstacles. Lot safer than a flying disc, and probably faster when you take everything into consideration.'

  The second party had a ceremonial look about it -something in the stately way it moved. Pyrgus craned his neck to try to catch more details, but the forest surrounding the clearing was dense and a leafy canopy arched over the path, leaving it in gloom.

  The archers entered the clearing and followed the example of the first two horsemen, splitting apart to form a mounted circle. To Pyrgus's surprise, and just a little alarm, they rode behind him, leaving him isolated with Blue and Mr Fogarty inside the circle. He glanced behind, decided there was nothing he could do, and waited.

  A weird processional came into view. Riders on horseback were attended by runners who gamboled and leaped and waved their arms like madmen, keeping apace with the horses with no apparent difficulty. Both riders and footmen were costumed, wearing a curious assortment of clothes that were a full five hundred years behind the current fashions. There was a preponderance of pointed hats and soft, velvet pointed slippers.

  'Good God,' said Mr Fogarty abruptly, 'it's the Wild Hunt!'

  Pyrgus glanced at him.

  'Old folk superstition in my world,' Mr Fogarty explained. 'At least I thought it was a superstition until now. Back in the Middle Ages, they used to believe that on certain nights of the year witches and other supernatural beings rode through the forest hunting for… I don't know… souls, I suppose. It was called the Wild Hunt, and sometimes the Faerie Hunt. The myth must have been based on this – look at those costumes, the descriptions are identical: pointed hats, archers, horses, and the woman leading them.'

  Pyrgus suddenly noticed there was a woman leading them and wondered how he had missed her before. She was the strangest creature he'd ever seen. She was not merely dressed in green – a fur-trimmed cloak over a loose shirt and tight knee-britches – but her skin colouring was green as well, enhancing her enormous golden eyes.

  'What is she?' he whispered. He couldn't take his eyes off the woman. Even her hair was green, interwoven with a garland of tiny forest flowers. There was a green man riding a little behind her, naked to the waist beneath his cloak, powerfully muscled, a strung bow carried across his back. But his eyes were almost black and his hair was a golden blond.

  The woman rode directly towards Pyrgus, then reined in a few feet away and slid gracefully from her horse. Close up, her colouring was even more disconcerting than it had been at a distance. She stared into Pyrgus's eyes as if attempting to read his thoughts, then said soberly, 'Crown Prince Pyrgus Malvae, I am Queen Cleopatra.' She half turned and gestured towards the green man, who had remained mounted. 'This is my Consort, Gonepterix.' Gonepterix nodded a brief acknowledgement. He had an open face, but his' expression was wary.

  'Queen Cleopatra?' frowned Gatekeeper Fogarty. 'Did you say CleopatraV

  The woman favoured him with a slow, sidelong look. Her face took on an expression of mild amusement. 'That is my name. And you are the Gatekeeper from another world – the Painted Lady told me of you.'

  Queen Cleopatra? Queen of what? Or where? It was dawning on Pyrgus that Forest Faerie were not at all what everybody thought them to be. They were very skilled at hiding themselves – and hiding what they had achieved. These were people who could live inside trees. They were practically a separate kingdom within his kingdom.

  Queen Cleopatra turned those disquieting gold eyes back on to Pyrgus. 'I wish to bid you welcome – and meet with your sister. Is she with you?'

  'I'm Princess Blue,' Blue said, stepping out. She'd been masked to some degree by Mr. Fogarty.

  Cleopatra smiled at her warmly. 'The Painted Lady has told me a very great deal about you – more even than about the Gatekeeper here.'

  It seemed a warm enough welcome, but there were a great many questions Pyrgus needed answered. Before he could ask any of them, Blue said, 'Where is Madame Cardui? She was with us a little while ago, but she seems to have disappeared.'

  'She went ahead,' the Queen told her. 'She will be waiting for us in the Great Hall. We should go there now – there is much we need to talk about.'

  'I don't do horses,' Mr Fogarty said at once. He looked at the Queen's own horse sourly.

  Cleopatra glanced at him again. She looked puzzled, but her face cleared almost at once. 'Oh, for the journey?' She smiled. 'Gatekeeper, the Great Hall is closer than you think.'

  CHAPTER FORTY FOUR

  'Hairstreak's sister?' Henry exclaimed. 'Why would the Purple Emperor go off and marry Hairstreak's sister?' Quercusia was quite good-looking for an older woman, but not that good-looking. A thought struck him. 'She's a Faerie of the Night, for heaven's sake.'

  The endolg made that curious rippling movement that seemed to be a shrug. 'That's exactly why he married her – because she was a Faerie of the Night. And Hairstreak's sister. Politics, pure and simple. Apatura Iris thought an arranged marriage with somebody in Hairstreak's family might help bring the Faeries of the Night and the Faeries of the Light closer together. She might be a bit of a wagon, but it was better than civil' war. Besides, he didn't know she was bonkers when he married her.'

  This was bad. This was very bad. This was very, very bad. Things had happened in the Realm that were almost impossible to believe, all of them bad for Pyrgus, all of them bad for Blue. (And all of them bad for Mr Fogarty, now Henry thought of it.) But at least they were still alive, although it sounded as if they'd only just survived; and if there was ever a time they needed him it was now. He couldn't quite get out of his head the vision he'd seen of them lying on a forest floor.

  'There must be some way out of this cell,' Henry moaned helplessly.

  'Oh, there is,' said the endolg.

  The creature had climbed halfway up one of the walls and was clinging there like a tapestry. Henry looked across at it. 'Pardon?'

  'There's a way out,' the endolg repeated.

  Henry sniffed. 'Yes, through the door, except they forgot to leave us a key.'

  'I don't know why you're taking that sarcastic attitude,' said the endolg airily. ‘I assumed it was a straightforward question and I gave you a straightforward answer.' It anchored itself more firmly to the wall and closed its eyes.

  'I'm sorry,' Henry said at once. 'Is there really a way out? Where? How?'

  T don't think I'll tell you,' said the endolg. 'I don't react well to sarcasm.'

  If it had had a throat, Henry would have strangled it. 'Sorry,' he said again. 'No, honestly, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry. Sorry. It's just – well, you were here before me. I'd have thought if there was some way out, you'd have taken it, that's all. Sorry.'

  'I said there was a way out. I didn't say I could use it. I'm not strong enough. But you are. At least I think you are – you look a sturdy boy to me. Sturdy and sarcastic'

  Henry contained himself with a superhuman effort. 'Won't you please tell me? You've been a huge help up to now.' A thought occurred to him and he added, 'If I get out, I'll take you with me. If it's somewhere you can't go, I'll carry you.'

  The endolg's eyes opened again. 'This is one of the oldest dungeons in the palace,' it said. 'Hasn't been repaired for centuries and wasn't all that well-made to begin with. See that little grating in the middle of the floor…?'

  The grating was the one prisoners peed into. There was a smallish, brown-stained hole beside it. Henry's nose wrinkled involuntarily. 'Yes…'

  'Comes up if you pull it hard enough.'

  Henry stared at the grating. It was six inches across at most. 'I couldn't get through that.'

  'The flagstone comes up with it,' said the endolg p
atiently.

  'What's underneath?' Henry felt the first hint of a mounting excitement. He didn't want to get his hopes up, but…

  'There's a drain. It's a bit mucky and it'll be a tight fit for somebody your size, but you'll probably get through.'

  'Probably?' Henry echoed.

  'Well, if you lift the flagstone, you can judge for yourself,' the endolg said. 'If you're not prepared to take my word for it.'

  'OK, OK, you think I should manage it. Where does the drain lead?'

  'My guess would be the palace sewers,' the endolg said. 'Don't take that as truthspeak, but I once saw a map that showed the whole underground system. I think that must be where it drains to.'

  'What about the sewers?' Henry asked. 'Could I get through them all right?'

  The endolg snorted. 'Get through them? You could hold a party in them if it wasn't for the smell. They're enormous.'

  'What happens if I can't find my way out? Out of the sewers?'

  'Oh, come on!' said the endolg. 'I'm telling you how we can get out of here – you want a scale map and a signed guarantee as well?'

  'Sorry,' Henry said again.

  'If it makes you feel any better, I'll be sticking with you. Don't fancy facing the bilgerats on my own.'

  'There are bilgerats down there?' Henry shuddered. He'd only ever seen a live rat once, but they gave him the creeps.

  'Big as horses, according to some reports. But I wouldn't take that as truth speak either.' The endolg started to climb down slowly off the wall. 'With luck we won't meet any, but if we do, it's still better than rotting in here, isn't it?'

  'Yes,' Henry said uncertainly.

  'Well, what are you waiting for? Get the grille up.'

  Henry walked hesitantly to the middle of the floor. The stench seemed stronger than it had been, and not just the smell of pee now either. The grating was stained by years of use and had some unpleasant encrustations. 'Are you sure you couldn't get this up yourself?'