I pulled the device onto my shoulders and winced at the weight, or lack of it. I could have carried it easily with one hand. Before the magic returned, everyone had been worried about what would happen if – when – terrorists got their hands on a backpack nuke. Even now, it was still a major concern, although the encroaching magic field tended to distract people from such issues. Besides, most of the terrorists who would have nuked us had their own problems back home.
“Come on,” I said, and led her back outside into the bright sunlight. Drak Bibliophile sat neatly on a helipad intended for an entire fleet of helicopters, his massive form somehow compressed into the smaller space. I didn’t want to look too closely, but I was starting to suspect that the dragons were capable of existing in several realms simultaneously, perhaps even capable of fitting into a smaller space, or even a room. “Are we ready?”
Drak Bibliophile smiled his dragonish smile. He’d been chatting happily to Brother Andrew about his Sensitive powers, although he’d been far less forthcoming about his own powers. I’d been worried when the conversation turned to God – the last thing anyone wanted was a religious dispute with a fire-breathing dragon – but they seemed to be getting along quite well. The dragons, it seemed, had their own concept of a universal creator.
“Of course,” Drak Bibliophile said. He hadn’t been forthcoming about how he intended to reach the Forsaken, but I suspected that I knew the truth. All of the Mounds were linked together, after all, and the Faerie might even have a backdoor into the silent Mound. Even if they didn’t, they might allow him to slip through without being noticed. “Hop on.”
I was getting used to the twisting sensation as the dragon pulled us both onto his neck, and then launched himself into the air. This time, it felt a little different, as if the dragon was jerking like a runaway train. His long neck coiled backwards and forwards, his wings altering and twisting rapidly, perhaps even enough to send him falling out of the sky. I felt sick as the view kept shifting rapidly and concentrated on hanging onto the scales. If I hadn’t pulled one off by now, I wasn't going to be able to do so. The dragon had nothing to fear from me.
“Don’t worry,” Aylia said, from behind me. She didn’t seem to be affected by the flight at all. “It’ll all be over soon.”
I glanced back towards New York. It was well over the horizon, even at such a height, but I could still sense the presence of the Forsaken. The last report we’d had had said that the military was attempting to disrupt the advance, but that the creatures didn’t seem to care how many of them were blown apart; they just kept moving onwards. There was no sign that the Faerie had noticed, or cared, that their arch-enemy had finally arrived, but that was perfectly in character for them. They wouldn’t have lowered themselves to care until it was too late.
“Thanks,” I said. I looked back at her and saw her smile. “Aylia, if we don’t come back, I…”
“I know,” she said, and kissed the back of my neck. “I know what you’re trying to say.”
“Get a room, you two,” Brother Andrew said, shaking his head. “I don’t think that this is quite the time to join the mile high club.”
I laughed, seeing a world of promise in Aylia’s eyes. “Maybe not,” I agreed. It would take some of the pressure off, but it would probably unbalance the dragon. No one was quite sure how dragons reproduced – no one had encountered a female dragon – but he would probably find our fumbling funny. “It’s probably against the law to have sex on an aeroplane.”
“How you humans can fly in those metal tubes I will never know,” Drak Bibliophile injected. His tongue lolled out in a long smile. “You could all learn to shine like the stars themselves, but instead you trust your lives to such strange things. You are far safer on my back.”
I laughed. “Thank you for everything,” I said, and meant it. “When are we going to reach the Mound?”
The dragon seemed to hover in the air for a long second. “Right now,” Drak Bibliophile said, and we plummeted out of the sky. The ground came towards us at a shocking speed and I barely had time to register the Mannington and the nearby Mound before space and time warped around us and we were somewhere else, in darkness. The dragon seemed to be glowing, illuminating the surrounding area, yet there was nothing to see. It didn’t feel like the place I had spoken to the Forsaken; it felt somehow cold, and very distant. I could hear the sound of a giant heartbeat somewhere in the distance.
“They know we’re here,” Brother Andrew said. I could barely make his face out in Drak Bibliophile’s glow. He was holding a small cross in his hands and stroking it constantly, scared out of his mind. I didn’t blame him. We had come crashing right into a Faerie Mound. “They’re scared. They’re scared of him.”
“They prefer not to acknowledge our existence,” Drak Bibliophile confirmed. I could hear his wings beating against something, but I don’t know what. It seemed to be blowing hot, then cold, then hot again, with a faint scent of something that would drive me crazy if I concentrated on it too long. “The Faerie would prefer to pretend that we are nothing to them, or that we don’t even exist. We are rarely welcome visitors in their Mounds, for we defy their laws of reality.”
I nodded as something else suddenly made sense. “You’re not part of their world, are you?”
“We come from somewhere so distant that even we remember it in legends alone,” Drak Bibliophile said. There was something intolerably sad in his voice. The dragons lived so long that they had outlasted entire civilisations, perhaps even entire universes. “They say that one day we will all meet again in the place where no shadows fall. Until then, we wander.”
There was a hint of a rebuke. “You should know by now that what you see isn’t what you get,” he added. “We are so much more than you allow yourselves to believe.”
Brother Andrew spoke into the silence. “You’re part of everything, aren’t you?” He asked. “Why didn’t I see that before?”
“Your brain might not have been ready to see it,” Drak Bibliophile said. “You should know by now that even a Sensitive cannot grasp everything, or tolerate its existence. The universe is not only stranger than you imagine, but stranger than you can imagine. There are threats out there that make the Forsaken or the Faerie look like little insects scurrying over existence. There are wonders out there that would make you cry for joy if you saw them. Glass was smart to bring you here, but the cost…”
He broke off as light flared around us. When it faded, we were standing in the Queen’s throne room. I looked around instinctively for Drak Bibliophile and saw the dragon as merely the size of a large car, yet still as powerful. One golden eye winked at me and I understood. The Faerie might have sought to diminish his appearance, but they couldn’t touch the core of his power, or his majesty. The Queen never even looked at him directly.
“Your Majesty,” I said, formally. Aylia curtsied, but didn’t fall down in front of her again, much to my relief. The Queen didn’t seem to be blasting us with her power either, nor trying to overwhelm us with her sheer presence. And, I realised, she was alone. There were no witnesses.
I remembered what the Forsaken Fragment had said about the Queen and peered at her, trying to see the strands of power linking her to her people. At first, I could see nothing, and then I realised that I was looking for a single tree in a massive forest. The Queen no longer looked human, or even humanoid; she was merely a spider sitting at the centre of her web, a spider so large as to defy the laws of nature. The web of power seemed to grow larger and larger as I looked closer, threatening to suck me in and swallow me in a heartbeat, before I broke free.
If we could break that web of power, I realised, dazed, we could free ourselves of the threat, once and for all.
“We welcome you to Our Court,” the Queen said. Her voice rang in my head. It was majestic, and yet…there was something phoney about it. I had seen the woman behind the curtain. Something clicked in my mind yet again and I smiled, almost laughing out loud. “Why have you t
roubled Us with your presence?”
I fought to keep the smile off my face and spoke carefully. “Your Majesty, the Forsaken have arrived at this world,” I said. The Queen showed no emotion, no sense of awareness, or concern. “We would ask for your assistance to reach the Mound they have infested and destroy it.”
“You cannot destroy a Mound,” the Queen said, as calmly as if she were discussing the weather. “We may not allow you passage though Our domain.”
I hesitated, and then took the plunge. “Your Majesty, the Forsaken have declared their intention to exterminate your people,” I said. “If their infection continues to spread, they will destroy your people and mine. We cannot allow that to continue.”
“They will not destroy us,” the Queen said. “We are secure in Our domain.”
“We broke through into your domain,” Drak Bibliophile said. The dragon’s voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. For a moment, I saw another shape under the dragon’s form, before it faded back to normal. The warped nexus of space and time that defined the Faerie Colony couldn’t quite accept his existence. “The Forsaken will not bother to ask your permission to destroy you. They will punch into your world, adapt themselves to the new environment, and destroy the magic. You and yours will collapse into dust.”
“They are not you,” the Queen said. She spoke a word that sounded like breaking glass. “They will not be able to breach the walls of this castle.”
“They’re already here,” I said. The Queen whirled around and stared at me. I was caught like a moth in the headlights, yet I was still able to think. My sudden awareness of what lay at the heart of the web kept me moving. “All Mounds are linked together, Your Majesty, because of the flow of magic. You are merely at the apex of power. The Forsaken hold one of your Mounds and need not break through your defences. They are already inside your defences.”
The sheer presence of the Queen was almost overwhelming, yet I could still keep my mind working. The Forsaken Fragment was sending an army across the ground, in our world, and yet if I were right, it didn’t need to do that. Why not? Did it even know that it already had access to Faerie, or was there some other reason why it wasn't already attacking? That wasn't a thought I liked. If we failed, we would be taken by the Forsaken…and it would learn about the route right into the other Mounds. The Queen might deny us her permission to move through her Mound.
“They are no threat to Us,” the Queen said. I couldn’t believe it. Half of Faerie destroyed or occupied by the Forsaken, with a new intrusion into our world, and she was dismissing the threat! I’d seen humans who were too conceited to recognise certain disaster staring them in the face, but the Faerie? I remembered what the Forsaken had said and shivered again. The successful Queens were the ones who were so arrogant and self-centred as to believe that no one could defeat them. The ones who doubted themselves were generally bumped off by their subjects. “We refuse you Our permission.”
I laughed aloud, this time, knowing that there was more than a hint of madness there.
“You laugh?” The Queen asked. A week ago, the danger in her voice would have had me cowering at her feet, but now I knew better. “Why do you dare, mortal thing?”
“I dare because you are no more a Faerie than I am,” I said. Everything suddenly made sense, including the lack of the rest of her Court. She hadn’t wanted them to see this. “You’re human, aren’t you? Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain, indeed!”
The Queen seemed to smile. “Once,” she said. “The Fair Folk love the fun and excitement of high rank, with all the perks of power, all the fancy dresses and finery, but they detest the hard work of government. I was a babe when they took me into the Mound and left a changeling in my place. The previous Queen absorbed me into herself and…and…and…I became her, somehow.”
I blinked. “But…I was told that the Queens were the strongest among the Faerie…”
“You should know better than to believe everything you are told,” Drak Bibliophile said. The dragon’s bulk rumbled with laughter. “This is a world where two separate and mutually contradictory things can be true at once.”
I rubbed the side of my head. “Your Majesty,” I said, carefully, “your people – both of your peoples – are on the brink of being exterminated. If we go through the tunnels into the silent Mound, we may have a chance to defeat them and save a fragment of your kind.”
“Maybe,” the Queen said. “We would not wish Our loyal subjects to be aware of any such agreement.”
It was worded as a statement, but I understood. The Faerie might overthrow her, only to discover that her successor needed human traits as well to survive and prosper as a Queen. “We will not speak a word of it to your people,” I promised. “If we fail…”
“Go,” the Queen ordered.
A moment later, we were falling through a dark tunnel, plunging towards the centre of the Earth. I was grateful that I couldn’t see anything, even though I was sure that we were surrounded by all kinds of things, hidden only by the darkness. Everything turned and twisted and then we were flying on the dragon again, racing down a long passageway that seemed to stretch on forever. I opened my mind, just a little, and felt the tendrils of magic racing past us, contaminated by…something. The Queen had been wrong. The Forsaken Fragment was already making inroads into Faerie Magic.
We’re in the plumbing, I thought, and tried very hard not to giggle. The humans who had tried, in the years after the Faerie had departed, to make sense of the magic had focused on ley lines and other symbols of power. We were looking now at the real lines of power, stretching from Mound to Mound as the Queens shared their power…and did it without even admitting that there was anyone to share power with! The human component made sense now. Humans have always been good at deceiving themselves into believing something that common sense tells them to be untrue.
And there were…things out there in the darkness. I saw images, floating directly into my mind, many beyond my ability to comprehend. A flame-haired man lay chained to a sheer cliff face. As I watched, he opened his eyes and winked at me. A massive octopus-like creature, only with far too many limbs, peered suspiciously at us, before returning to its meal. Other creatures, each one weirder and strange than the last, looked at us briefly, and then ignored us. We were beneath their notice.
“We are between the worlds,” Drak Bibliophile said. Even the great dragon seemed hushed in the void. “And now…”
The world changed around us again, and then we were standing in a darkened room.
“This is as far as I can come,” Drak Bibliophile said. “If the Forsaken senses me…”
I nodded. “Thank you,” I said. “If we don’t see you again…”
“Don’t worry about it,” the dragon said. “Whatever happens, humans, happens.”
A moment later, he was gone.
“Come on,” Brother Andrew said. He sounded rather more confident than I would have expected, but Sensitive magic always was. “This way.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
There are some corners of the universe which have bred the most terrible things. Things that act against everything we believe in. They must be fought!
-Doctor Who
We were walking through an enormous beast.
I couldn’t escape the feeling that the Forsaken Fragment knew exactly where we were and what we were doing at all times. I could feel its great slow thoughts all around us as we made our way stealthily through the strange complex. The Mound was dead and cold, but somehow light seemed to sparkle through, with no apparent source. The magic field was going crazy all around us, as if it were fighting for its very existence. There was an enormous heartbeat somewhere in the distance, deep heavy breathing from a tired giant, or perhaps it was merely our minds struggling to cope with the inexplicable. It wasn't a human place.
We walked in silence. Here and there, we saw traces of what the Mound had been like when a Faerie Queen had ruled, before the Forsaken had slaught
ered the Queen and absorbed the remaining Faerie into its multiplicity. There were hints, shadows right at the rear of the chambers we passed, of royal halls and regal galleries. Nothing was fixed in Faerie, everything was fluid at the will of the Queen, but now it was like walking through a burned out building. Something immensely powerful had been through the Mound and now there was nothing left, but the stench of death and the strange illumination. The Forsaken Fragment had no need to prowl the dead tunnels, like a dragon or a far nastier creature from the Monster Mountains; it was secure in its dominance and control. In many ways, it reminded me of the Faerie. It would probably have hated that comparison.
“It doesn’t care about us,” Brother Andrew said, his voice echoing oddly in the strange dimension. “It’s thinking about other matters. I can hear its thoughts. It knows that the Army’s out there and it doesn’t care.”
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