Azrael's Twins

by V. J. Mortimer

  ‘Have we caught him on a bad day?’ Merritt asked his brother.

  ‘Something has him peeved,’ said Garrett. ‘Can’t imagine what would be annoying him so much. He was really looking forward to having you home – and seeing his grandchildren for the first time.’

  There was no time for further words as they followed the king down another glass-walled corridor ending in a large doorway. They could just see the king’s feet disappearing through it and hurried to catch up. The mid-morning sun illuminated huge gardens outside the window to their right.

  ‘That’s the same garden we saw in the other corridor!’ said Niamh, pointing out the windows.

  ‘So?’ said Grady.

  ‘So it can’t be,’ said Niamh. ‘We just turned in a completely different direction away from those gardens. They can’t be there.’

  ‘Ah well, there you go now,’ said Garrett. ‘The first thing you should learn about this castle is don’t think in three dimensions. Just because you think something should be in a particular place, you shouldn’t take it for granted. It may be somewhere completely different. The castle doesn’t make life easy if you don’t keep your wits about you, and for those it knows shouldn’t be where they are, it can trap them in loops they can never escape from!’

  The children wanted to ask more about the castle but were hurried along by their parents as they scurried to catch up with the king. They paused and took a nervous breath before entering the room into which the king had disappeared moments before.

  As they did so an almighty racket assaulted their ears. The room was crowded with a cheering, clapping throng of people. There were all shapes and sizes and all manner of clothes – people in robes, some in jeans and shirts, women in dresses, and clearly some wizards and witches if pointy hats were anything to go by. Most of the group were clearly human or elvish, but the occasional vampire gave himself away by the inappropriate use of evening dress during the middle of the day (the stories about their fear of daylight being sadly exaggerated) and the gaudily dressed leprechauns displayed obvious colour blindness to mix and match clothes in the way they did.

  A semicircle of people rushed forward to start shaking hands and pat Merritt, Grace, Grady and Niamh on the back. Both the children felt lost and overwhelmed by the reception. They didn’t know any of the people proffering hugs of welcome or fussing over them. It was all very confusing. A series of golden stars burst across the ceiling showering everyone in the room with bright sparkles of light like the fireworks displays Niamh and Grady remembered from home, though this display was far more reserved if no less impressive for being indoors.

  Standing off to one side was the king, now flanked by a strikingly handsome, grey-haired woman. She wore a simple skirt and blouse with a pearl necklace and earrings. Unusually, thought Niamh, her hair was tied back in a ponytail which didn’t seem to fit the picture she expected to see of the queen. After a few more moments of celebration the king and queen stepped forward and the crowd parted before them. The king embraced Merritt and Grace with a warm and welcoming smile and then squatted down in front of the children. ‘Sorry about Mr Grump out there,’ he said, nodding his head back towards the door. ‘Just had to make sure you weren’t tipped off as to the welcome.’

  Niamh and Grady were speechless. The queen stepped forward and gave both the children a big hug. ‘I didn’t ever think I’d get the chance to meet you like this. You’ve no idea how happy I am to see you here. You must be hungry. Come and get something to eat.’

  Niamh and Grady hadn’t thought about it up till then but they now realised there was a massive hole in their stomachs where morning tea ought to have been. ‘I’m starved,’ said Grady. ‘I could eat a horse!’

  ‘Goodness me, Gracie, what are you trying to do to your children!’ said the queen, winking at the children’s mum. ‘I don’t think we have any horse but come, there’s plenty of food over here.’ The queen navigated the children through more welcomes and hugs from close and distant family members – all hastily introduced by the queen – before finally arriving at the food table.

  The sight of the table heavily laden with muffins and sandwiches, sweets and sausages and drinks and cakes and practically every food a young child could ever want was overtaken by the sight of the faeries buzzing around the table like bright fire flies around a campfire. These faeries were just like the dust faeries in size and shape but Niamh noticed they were a little bit bigger around the stomachs than their corridor cousins. The queen explained; ‘All the cooking around here is done by these little friends. It’s what they live for; cooking is their life. If we tried to stop them they would shrivel up and fade away, so they do the lot for us – they are happy and we get fed. It works for everyone, I suppose and it’s been like this forever. As long as there have been humans and elves round here there have also been the food faeries.

  As the queen was explaining, Grady found himself fascinated by the sight of plates of food flying around the room supported by two or three faeries at a time. Each of the faeries must have been enormously strong to be able to carry the heavy crockery but they seemed to have no trouble shifting even the biggest loads. Every time a plate was cleared two faeries would zip in and clear it away only for it to be replaced moments later by another plate loaded to the brim with exquisitely prepared delicacies.

  Niamh and Grady found their mouths starting to water at the sight of the food. They each grabbed a plate and loaded them up with whatever took their fancy.

  ‘They don’t look very special,’ whined a petulant voice from behind them. As they turned round, they found themselves face to face with a group of small children – all staring at them inquisitively. A stroppy-looking boy about Grady’s height stood with his arms folded at the front of the group.

  From out of the crowd one of the women they had been introduced to as Emmy saw the awkward moment and stepped in to save the stares. ‘Glad to see you’ve still got an appetite after all that’s been going on today. Would you like me to introduce you to everyone?’ said Emmy, with a kind smile.

  ‘Yesh plss,’ said Grady through a mouthful of heavenly meringue.

  Emmy ran through the names of the children – Emily Puddingbowl was the daughter of the king’s provender which Grady was excited to find out meant the food pantries. Smallest of all the girls in the group with dark brown hair and quick clever-looking eyes, her face made you immediately think she was the sweetest thing you would ever want to meet, but the elvish ears gave away her ancestry and the mischief-making which comes with it!

  Devin Darlingheart was a bright and bouncy little thing. She was barely able to stand still while being introduced and gave Niamh a big curtsey when Emmy said her name. Devin’s mum was the court artist and responsible, among other things, for the care of the beautiful stained glass windows throughout the palace.

  Breeanna Gryphongate, or Bree as she reminded Emmy she liked to be called, was about Niamh’s height with hair so blond as to be almost snow-like. Her graceful features showed an elvish mix in her blood but her perfectly normal ears showed the blending must have been many years in the past.

  Tulliah was Bree’s sister and almost a carbon copy. Younger and smaller (she was Grady’s age) she hid behind her big sister a little bit but kept her eyes firmly focused on Grady’s hair. She didn’t say much but gave a little giggle as her name was announced. Breeanna and Tulliah’s father was the king’s engineer and responsible for all manner of important magical structures in the kingdom.

  The boy who had declared that the children did not look special was introduced next. Hugh Wilding was about Grady’s age and size but he didn’t say much or even seem to want to acknowledge the children. He almost ignored Niamh but cast glances up and down Grady and then curtly announced, ‘As I said, he doesn’t look that special to me.’ Bree promptly thumped him in the arm announcing he shouldn’t be so rude.

  Before they could find out any more about Hugh, Niamh tapped Emmy on the arm and pointed over to the far
side of the room. There sat a thin-looking boy with dark chocolate hair which fell over his eyes, a distracted look, and his head buried in a book. Unlike the other children he didn’t appear to have icing smeared over any part of his face and seemed completely oblivious to the celebration going on around him. He held a glass of water halfway up to his mouth as if he had started to take a drink but been distracted by a particularly interesting part of the book and forgotten to finish taking a slurp.

  ‘That’s Quinn Rosamund. Quiet boy. He’s about your age. His parents were quite talented at magic but they ... died when he was very young.’ Niamh noticed the pause in the explanation from Emmy. There was obviously something she wasn’t telling them about how Quinn’s parent’s had died. ‘He was adopted by Reginald Rosamund – the king’s armourer. It’s really just a ceremonial name but they look after the special implements and old suits of armour. You’d be amazed how much it takes to maintain them. Quinn there has shown only the barest flickers of magic and doesn’t seem interested in trying to learn any more. He always seems to have his head in a book and his mind elsewhere. We can’t get him to focus on magic at all. But if you want to see the library then he’s your man. Knows his way around it better than just about anyone, other than old Gilly.’

  ‘Who’s Gilly?’ asked Niamh.

  ‘Guillemot Aglarond. Master of Lore and Libraries. He looks after the main library here at the castle and is the lore master for the king. He knows all about the deepest secrets of the kingdom and where to go for that special book you might need in the library. You’ll like him.’

  Glancing up through the crowd Emmy saw Merritt and Grace approaching.

  ‘Has Emmy been keeping you entertained?’ said Grace, looking over the gaggle of youngsters in front of the food table.

  ‘Oh yes!’ said Niamh. ‘She’s just told us there’s a big library here. Can I go and see please?’

  ‘No, not yet,’ said her mum. ‘Plenty of time for that. Dad and I need some time with you and Their Majesties. Can you come, please?’

  ‘Sure, Mum.’ Turning to their new friends Niamh said, ‘Got to go. Can I meet you later so you can show me round?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Bree. ‘When you need us just use your iWand. Just say the name of the person you want to find to the iWand, cast with the wand, and their face will show up above the wand and you can talk to them.’

  ‘But we don’t have wands,’ said Grady.

  ‘Or iWands,’ said Niamh. ‘And we don’t know how to cast yet!’

  ‘Don’t know how to cast!’ sneered Hugh. ‘How stupid is that! And you’re meant to be a witch!’

  ‘Well we’ve just arrived, snotty,’ said Grady. ‘We’ve never done magic before. How could we know?’

  ‘Well I don’t think you’re very magical at all and I can’t be bothered with you,’ said Hugh, standing with a defiant look on his face and hands planted on hips.

  Emmy turned a stern face towards the truculent child and said, ‘Hugh, don’t be so rude. Just help Grady to feel a little bit welcome please.’

  Glancing back up at Emmy, Hugh grudgingly said, ‘Oh, okay, if I must.’ Thrusting his hand towards Grady in a most unfriendly manner Hugh turned back to Grady. ‘Hi,’ he said in his most sulky voice. ‘Don’t annoy me and we’ll probably get on really well, Ginger.’

  ‘Hugh!’ exclaimed Emmy. ‘No more cake for you today! Honestly, you shouldn’t be so awful to people. You need to learn being rude isn’t the same as being clever!’ With a sulky look at Emmy and an evil little glance back at Grady, Hugh slouched off towards the door – sneakily pocketing an iced muffin as he passed the desserts. Emmy glanced down at Niamh and winked. ‘Watch this,’ she said. She drew out her iWand and with a quick flick at the departing Hugh the icing off the muffin suddenly leapt up into the air and splattered down on top of his head. Hugh let out a little cry and shot a filthy look back at Emmy. Another quick flick of Emmy’s wand caused a spark to shoot off the tip and clip Hugh’s bottom, making him leap up into the air, squeal, and run from the room.

  The remaining children, now laughing and giggling together, turned back to Emmy. ‘Don’t worry; he’s actually quite nice underneath it all. He’s just a bit strong-willed.’

  ‘Anyway,’ chimed in Bree ‘You can still call for us or send us a message if you want. Just clap your hands twice and say “Messenger please”, or “Cleaner please”, or “Food please” if you’re hungry! You only have to wait a moment and the faeries will turn up for you. Watch out though. You must say “Please” when you call for them or they won’t come – faeries are extraordinarily polite and expect politeness in return. And be ready for them to turn up where they think they’ll give you the biggest surprise – often behind your ears and sometimes right on the tip of your nose. They might do whatever we ask them to, but they do like having fun,’ she squeaked out.

  ‘That sounds really cool. Thank you,’ said Niamh. ‘See you soon then.’

  ‘Goodbye Emmelina,’ said Grace. ‘Thanks for entertaining them.’

  ‘No problem. They really are lovely.’ Turning to the children she said, ‘Nice to meet you both. I’ll be seeing you sooner rather than later, I think.’ With a final wink at Grace she turned and left the children to their mother.

  Niamh and Grady were lead through the crowd by their mother to a side door. In the room beyond they found the king and queen and the elf who had met them off the coach – Murdock.

  ‘Had fun, you two?’ asked the king.

  ‘Yes thanks,’ the children said together. ‘I’m feeling much better after some food,’ said Grady. ‘Hadn’t realised how hungry I was.’

  ‘Good. An empty stomach is a horrible thing to have, and if you are anything like your father I doubt you have much self control or can entertain a rational thought when the hunger demons take over that little brain of yours.’

  Grady just smiled, while his father blushed. It was clear they were alike in more ways than Grady knew.

  ‘I thought so,’ said the king, smiling. ‘Like father, like son.’ The king settled back into his chair with a pair of glasses in his hands. ‘Now. First things first. Let’s get these damn names sorted out. I don’t suppose anyone has bothered to tell you how to address us, have they?’ The children shook their heads. ‘Typical,’ said the king, frowning at Merritt. ‘Well, our proper names are Conail and Maeve, but to make it easy you should just call me Grumpy and this fine woman over here Nana,’ said the king, pointing to the queen. And if you ever use those names in public I swear there won’t be a safe place in this land for you to hide. Understand?’

  Both the children simply nodded while unsuccessfully attempting to suppress a laugh. Grady simply could not understand how someone so ordinary-looking could be the king. But it was clear this was his father’s father. The same set of jaw and slightly pointed nose gave lie to the differences of age and wear on each of their faces.

  ‘Now. Important stuff. You know why we’ve brought you all here?’ said the king. ‘To home?’

  Niamh and Grady nodded. ‘It wasn’t safe for us to stay at Avalon’s End any longer,’ said Niamh.

  ‘That’s basically right,’ said the king. ‘And there is a great deal you need to learn now you are here. But I won’t try and bore you with that today. You’ll hear enough of that from others, I am sure,’ said the king, glancing at Murdock and smiling. ‘I just want to give you both a couple of pieces of advice.’ The children couldn’t help but notice how the king’s face became more lined and grave as he spoke. Clearly something weighed on his mind. ‘The first and most important thing to remember is things are not always what they seem here. Don’t allow yourselves to be fooled by appearances or Glammer.’

  ‘What’s Glammer?’ said Grady curiously.

  ‘Have you ever seen something from one angle and then another and suddenly realised it looks nothing like you saw the first time – like an optical illusion?’ said the king. The children nodded. ‘Well that is what Glammer is – a way of maki
ng one thing look like another. It might make something appear much more beautiful than it really is or make someone seem much nicer than they actually are. But what it really comes down to is lies and deceit. Some wizards in this world are extraordinarily good at Glammer, so always be wary of it. The king leaned into them and spoke earnestly. ‘Nothing here may be what it seems. Remember you are surrounded by people who have been using magic as a weapon and a cloak for many, many years. You cannot, and must not, ever believe that what you see is what is really there. Look behind the curtain and always wait for the sacrament of confirmation before you truly believe. Do you understand?’

  Niamh was not sure she understood completely. They had always been trusting children and never had cause to be so suspicious. Grady glanced at his sister. He understood quickly that Niamh was feeling uneasy which made his own worries easier to manage. But as if on cue they said in unison; ‘I understand.’

  ‘Good,’ said the king. ‘Remember that point well. Now, the second thing is equally as important. There are only three people and one creature in this world you can truly trust. These four must have your absolute belief and expectation that when they tell you that something is so you must not question it. Ever. Those people are your mother, your father, and Murdock. Can you guess the creature?

  ‘Belimawr,’ chorused the children.

  ‘Belimawr,’ echoed the king, nodding. ‘Beyond them you must look for the Glammer in what you hear and what you see. Trust will be more rare than the most precious metals you can imagine. Make the gift of your trust the most special gift you have,’ said the king gravely. He sat back then and the weight seemed to lift from his brow. ‘Well. The question now is what to do with you two,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Murdock. Perhaps you might have a thought or two on the matter?’

  ‘You may be surprised to learn I have many thoughts,’ he said. ‘But to be fair it might be worth giving them a chance to settle in and me a chance to talk to their parents, perhaps? Why don’t we meet tomorrow morning after breakfast?’