Beyond the Blue Moon (Forest Kingdom Novels)

by Green, Simon R.

  “Isn’t that what Harald tried to do?” asked Fisher.

  “I’m not my brother. As Prince and Princess, our physical weakness wouldn’t matter. We could just order people like Chance and Sir Vivian to do the hard work for us.”

  “You’re not thinking this through,” said Fisher. “Once you put the crown on, you could never take it off. To get the kind of authority you’re talking about, you’d have to put aside the Queen Regent and your nephew, Stephen, and become King Rupert. Ruler of the Forest Kingdom. Our lives would never be our own again. And isn’t that why we left here in the first place?”

  “I know, but perhaps it’s my duty to be King.”

  “What about your duty to me?” Fisher asked.

  Then the window behind them burst open, and rain came pouring into the room. It sprayed through the window in an almost horizontal blast, as though forced into the room by some unimaginable pressure, only to stop short barely halfway across the room. As Hawk and Fisher watched open-mouthed, the water pressed together to form a solid pillar, blue and glistening, before slowly shaping itself into a human form. The spraying rain cut off abruptly, and there before Hawk and Fisher stood a woman made all of water. Six feet tall and clear as crystal, she wore a long dress, but it and her form were entirely fluid, with long, slow ripples flowing through her. The long hair that fell to her shoulders ran constantly away, constantly renewing itself. Beads of water ran steadily down her face like endless tears and dripped from her chin. She turned her head slowly to look at Hawk and Fisher, and her pale blue mouth moved in a gentle smile.

  “All right,” said Hawk. “You win the prize for the weirdest thing I’ve seen today. Who might you be?”

  “I am the Lady of the Lake, an elemental protector of the Forest.” More ripples spread across her face as her lips moved, and her voice was like the gurgling of a running stream, given shape and meaning and a human warmth. She walked slowly around the room, studying it. A fire in a grate steamed when she got too close to it, and she left a wet trail behind her. With no sign of feet beneath the long dress, she seemed to glide more than walk, like a watery spirit. She turned back to face Hawk and Fisher. “I have come to protect the Castle once you have gone into the Inverted Cathedral.”

  “Hold everything,” Fisher said firmly. “We haven’t decided we’re going to do that yet. We still have a murder to solve.”

  “You will go into the Cathedral,” said the Lady calmly. “Because you have to.”

  “Lady,” said Hawk politely, “who, or what, are you, exactly?”

  “I was created around the spirit of a woman who drowned herself,” said the Lady of the Lake. “She wanted to escape from a world she found intolerable, but the world wasn’t finished with her. There had been an earlier Lady of the Lake, but she was gone, and a new protector was needed. And so a mortal soul became immortal, as the spirit of the waters. But not long after my creation, while I was still weak and inexperienced, the Demon Prince used Wild Magic to contain me in my Lake, and I became a helpless captive. I knew what was happening to the Land as the long night spread, but I was unable to intervene.

  “After the Demon Prince was banished, I emerged, took on my full powers, and I have spent my time since slowly helping and encouraging the regrowth of the Forest. The Land was badly damaged during the long night, and I fear parts of it may never recover, even with my help. Now a dark time threatens us again, and I have come here to warn you. I have avoided human contact until now, partly because I didn’t want to meet people who might have known me while I was still alive, and partly because I’m not human anymore. I remember what it was like, but I must take a larger view now.”

  “Why choose us to reveal yourself to?” asked Hawk.

  “Because I knew I could trust Prince Rupert and Princess Julia. I am the Lady of the Lake, and nothing is hidden from me.”

  “Oh, great,” said Fisher. “Another complication. Try and remember we’re Hawk and Fisher these days if you have to talk to anyone else.”

  The Lady of the Lake didn’t seem to be listening. She was looking around the room again. It was hard to read the expressions of her watery face, but Hawk thought she looked sad. She brought her hand to her mouth, and for a moment her fingertips merged seamlessly with her lips. “It’s been a long time since I was last here,” she said quietly. “When I was still alive. It hasn’t changed much. That’s the Castle’s strength, and its weakness.”

  “Do you really live in a Lake?” said Fisher bluntly.

  The Lady smiled at her. “I am the Lake. Wherever water flows in the Forest, I am there. I exist in every stream and brook, every waterfall and rainstorm. I am a part of the Land now. I’ve been watching you ever since you entered the Forest. Everything here has been waiting for your arrival. Now you are here, destiny can finally begin to unfold. It is your fate to enter the Inverted Cathedral and do what must be done there.”

  “We don’t have to do a damn thing we don’t want to,” said Fisher just a little testily. “And what the hell is so important about us going into the Inverted Cathedral anyway? Seems like everybody wants us to go in there.”

  “The Blue Moon will be here soon,” said the Lady. “Full and potent, to reign over a word of unleashed Wild Magic. An endless nightmare for whatever humans survive in it. Only you can prevent this. It’s why you came back here.”

  “We came back of our own free will, to discover Harald’s murderer!” said Hawk.

  “You already know who killed him,” said the Lady. “You just don’t want to admit it yet.”

  Hawk looked at her for a long moment. “I know you from somewhere, don’t I?”

  “I’d like to think so,” said the Lady. She smiled at Hawk and he smiled back, strangely drawn to her, though he didn’t know why. Fisher watched all this and felt a bit left out.

  “I can cure you both,” said the Lady, suddenly all business again. “I know what has happened to you and how weak you are. I can make you whole and strong again.”

  “Is that a bribe?” Fisher asked. “Conditional on us going into that damned Cathedral?”

  “No,” said the Lady. “It is my gift to you. Whatever you decide to do.” She held out her hands to Hawk and Fisher, and water fell from her palms and fingers like splashing waterfalls. “Come to me, and drink of my waters, and be whole again. The strength of the Forest Land flows through me. Drink of the Land, and be its champions again.”

  Hawk and Fisher looked at each other. They both wanted to ask what the catch was, but the words wouldn’t come. They knew they were in the presence of something bigger than themselves, as though some aspect of the Land itself was in the room with them. They bowed their heads to the Lady of the Lake, and drank of the water flowing from her hands. It was cold and fresh, like water from a mountain spring, and as they swallowed, they could feel it coursing through their bodies like a tidal bore, slow but irresistible, washing away all the detritus of their lives. Strength filled their arms and legs, and straightened their backs. All their pains were gone, and their minds were suddenly, almost painfully, clear. The Lady of the Lake withdrew her hands, and Hawk and Fisher grinned at her, feeling fit and well and wholly alive for the first time in ages. The door opened behind them, and they both spun around, weapons at the ready, to find themselves confronting Chance and Sir Vivian standing, somewhat startled, in the doorway. Hawk and Fisher put away their weapons and smiled radiantly at their visitors.

  “Sorry to intrude,” said Chance, looking with interest at the smiling Lady of the Lake. “Are we interrupting anything?”

  “I am the Lady of the Lake,” said the watery spirit. “Don’t worry about the carpet, it’ll dry out. I am an elemental champion of the Land, come to protect it in its hour of need. It is good to meet you at last, Sir Questor, Sir Vivian.”

  Sir Vivian looked at Chance. “I don’t know why we bother having any security in this Castle. People come and go as they damn well please these days.”

  “Be that as it may,” said Ch
ance, turning back to Hawk and Fisher, “Jericho Lament, the famous, or infamous, depending on which version you listen to, Walking Man, is here in the Castle. And he wants to talk to the pair of you. Right now. And even sooner than that, if possible.”

  “I’ve heard of him,” said Hawk. “But I thought he was just some sort of rural legend.”

  “Oh, he’s real enough, unfortunately,” said Chance. “And altogether far more powerful than I feel comfortable contemplating. Please come and talk with him, before he starts looking for more evil people to punish.”

  “If we must,” said Fisher. She looked at Hawk. “Want to bet he wants us to go into the bloody Cathedral as well?”

  “No bet,” said Hawk. “Though if truth be told, right now I feel strong enough to dismantle an entire Cathedral with my bare hands, brick by brick, if I had to. Or kick the Walking Man’s arse round to the front, if it came to it.”

  “Please don’t even consider it,” said Chance earnestly. “I hate to think how much damage the two of you could cause if you really got into it.”

  Sir Vivian had been looking closely at the Lady of the Lake, and he took a sudden step forward. “I know you. I know who you are.”

  “Of course you do,” said the Lady. “But you mustn’t tell.”

  She smiled at him and he sank on one knee before her. She put a hand on his shoulder, as if in blessing, and water ran down his arm. He didn’t notice. He looked up at her with earnest, almost tearful eyes, and something passed between him and the Lady that the others saw but couldn’t comprehend. The Lady raised Sir Vivian up from his knee, and the two of them left the room together. Chance looked at Hawk and Fisher.

  “Do you know what that was all about?”

  “Haven’t a clue,” said Hawk. “But then, I feel that way about a lot of things these days.”

  “Oh, good,” said Chance. “I’d hate to think it was just me. I used to understand what was going on in the Castle. Hell, keeping on top of things was part of my job. But just lately, I might as well be walking around with a bag over my head, and a sign on my back saying ‘Kick me, I’m stupid.’” He shook his head slowly. “Look, we need to talk about the Walking Man. Please don’t do anything to upset him. He is immensely powerful, utterly devoted to his cause, and has about as much sense of humor as a dead frog. If you irritate him, he’ll probably kill you—and anyone else who happens to be around at the time. He says God talks to him, and tells him to kill people. In my experience, the best thing to do with people like that is just nod and smile and go along with it, in the hope he’ll move on somewhere else.”

  “We used to know this guy in Haven who used to hear God talking to him,” said Fisher. “Apparently God told him to recite bad poetry in public and expose himself to nuns.”

  “Until he tried it on the Street of Gods,” said Hawk. “And the Little Sisters of the Immaculate Razor turned him into a jigsaw, right there on the street.”

  “We know about the Walking Man,” said Fisher. “He’s a legend, even down in the Southern Kingdoms. But we’re legends, too. We can look after ourselves.”

  “The problem is, unlike most legends, the Walking Man is even more dangerous than most people think he is,” said Chance. “He’s killed a hell of a lot of people in his time. Not always for reasons the rest of us could understand. I was there at the end of one of his cases. The Dead Hand Abominations and the Wolves of September. Lament had been gone for over an hour, and they were still carrying bodies out of the town.”

  “And he wants to talk to us,” Hawk said slowly. “Just as a matter of interest, does anyone know who he’s come here to kill?”

  “No,” said Chance. “But he’s already beaten a magic-user to death with his bare hands, and that was just something he did along the way.”

  “He could be after us,” said Fisher. “We’ve killed a hell of a lot of people, too, in our time. Always for what we thought were good reasons, but I suppose that’s what everyone says.”

  “We’d better go see him,” said Hawk. “Try not to worry about us, Chance. If Lament gives us any trouble, Isobel and I will send the Walking Man to talk to God in person to explain what went wrong.”

  Chance shook his head slowly. “I wish I thought you were joking.”

  Sir Morrison, Lady Esther, and Franz Pendleton, those notable would-be traitors, waited impatiently outside Duke Alric’s private quarters while the Duke decided whether he wanted to see them or not. Half a dozen armed guards watched them closely with unsympathetic faces. Morrison and Esther sat calmly on their chairs while Pendleton paced nervously up and down before them.

  “This is taking too long,” Pendleton said finally. “Something must have gone wrong. He knows why we’re here. He should have made up his mind by now. What’s taking him so long?”

  “He’s just making us wait to demonstrate how important he is,” said Morrison. “The more important the person, the longer the wait. We’ll be lucky if the Duke sees us at all today. Now sit down and stop making an exhibition of yourself. Look at the nice portraits.”

  “Stuff the portraits!”

  “Shut up and sit down,” said Lady Esther firmly. “If the Duke gets the impression we’re weak and uncertain, he’ll walk all over us. It’s vital we persuade him that we represent powerful interests he can’t afford not to deal with. You embarrass us in there, Pendleton, and I’ll kill you myself. Now sit down.”

  Pendleton sat down on the very edge of a chair, wringing his hands together. “This is bad. Coming here in person. We’ve always dealt through intermediaries before.”

  “And that’s why we haven’t gotten anywhere,” said Sir Morrison calmly. “Our message gets diluted. Our intensity goes unrecognized. Sir Robert was our last hope, and he proved dangerously soft. Didn’t have the balls for the kind of direct action needed to grasp power. So we will proceed without him and his expensive advice. If we can persuade the Duke to our cause, we’ll be halfway home.”

  “That’s a hell of a big if,” muttered Pendleton.

  Then the doors swung open and the guards gestured silently for the conspirators to go in. They got up and walked into the Duke’s private chambers, doing their various best to look calm and collected and people of power and destiny. The Duke was sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, held upright by his straps and braces and supports. He didn’t even bother to look at his visitors until they were standing right in front of him, and then his gaze was cold and almost openly contemptuous. Morrison and Pendleton bowed low to him, and Esther curtsied. The Duke barely nodded.

  “You wanted to talk to me,” he said flatly. “So talk. And keep to the point, or I’ll have my guards beat it out of you.”

  Pendleton flinched. The guards had already demanded they give up all their weapons before they were even allowed to wait outside the Duke’s quarters. Morrison smiled politely and addressed the Duke in tones of perfect reasonableness.

  “We are here to present a simple proposition to you, Your Highness. My associates and I represent the Landsgraves of Gold, Silver, and Copper, and other assorted business interests in the Land. We are not as mighty as we once were, but we could be again, with your help. We have extensive information-gathering operatives spread throughout the Land, which could be put at your disposal. We’re talking about the kind of information—people, places, and troop positions—that would be invaluable to you if you found it necessary to invade the Forest Kingdom for its own good. We have no faith in the current regime, who have always failed to recognize our true worth. In short, we offer you vital intelligence in return for your support after you come to power. Our interests are purely economic, not political. All we want is for things to be as they were, when the Landsgraves were a force to be recognized and valued. Not much to ask for a trouble-free invasion by your armies.”

  “We can even provide armed men to fight beside yours,” said Lady Esther. “Mercenaries, but good fighters. And we also command assassins within the Castle. We could kill anyone for you. Anyon
e at all.”

  “Good plan,” said the Duke. “I admire ambition. And ruthlessness. But I don’t need you. Guards, kill them.”

  The three conspirators gaped at him, shocked, and then looked quickly about them as the Duke’s guards moved smoothly forward to cut them off from the Duke and any escape route. Sir Morrison struggled to find his voice.

  “You can’t do this! We are people of influence and power!”

  “You are traitors,” said the Duke. “And no one will miss you.”

  “At least give us back our weapons,” demanded Sir Morrison. “Let us fight and die like men!”

  The Duke laughed breathily. “Do I look stupid?”

  Sir Morrison snarled a curse and threw himself forward, trying to plow through the guards to reach the Duke. The guards cut him down before he was even close. Pendleton broke and ran, and the guards killed him easily. Lady Esther watched her allies die, then pulled a nasty-looking steel pin from her piled-up hair. She held the long pin like a knife, and the guards nearest her hesitated. Lady Esther shot the Duke one last look of defiance, then turned the pin on herself and thrust it through her heart, robbing him of the kill. The Duke watched her body crumple lifelessly to the floor.

  “Dead is dead,” he said finally, unmoved. “And I never did have any time for traitors. Guards, take away the bodies and dispose of them where they won’t be found. And clean up the mess. These people were never here.”

  Chance took Hawk and Fisher to meet Jericho Lament in the Queen’s private chamber adjoining the Court. No one would disturb them there. No one would dare. Along the way Chance persevered with his efforts to try and impress on Hawk and Fisher how they should act around Lament. As God’s chosen warrior, Lament had no doubts or uncertainties. That made him extremely dangerous and very narrowly focused. You couldn’t argue or reason with him, and if you tried to get in his way, he’d just kill you.