Faerie Wars fw-1

by Herbie Brennan

  More to the point, he hadn't seen water either and he had no water at all with him. He wouldn't last much more than a week without water. It was cool enough now with the sun near the horizon, but tomorrow at noon it could be leaching moisture from his body at a frightening rate.

  He glanced towards the sun. It hung in the same place in the sky as if time itself had stopped.

  Water had to be his first priority. He needed water to survive. Without it, he would never reach his father, never warn him, never find out who was behind the murder attempt, never – He cut off the train of thought and forced his mind on to the immediate problem. He might be able to squeeze some moisture from the curious plants, but that had to be a last resort since he'd no idea if they were poisonous. What he really needed was a stream or a pool or…

  Or a well!

  The ruined city must have had its water sources! The city planners might have built cisterns to collect rainwater, but there would be wells too – they were the only certain source of supply. Some, maybe even most, would probably have dried up by now. But there was a chance one or two might still hold water. All he had to do was find them.

  He started down the slope towards the ruins. The thought occurred that he might be lucky enough to stumble on an inscription that would give him some clue to his whereabouts. Once he had water and knew where he was, he'd no doubt he could find his way home, however far away it was. Somehow.

  Close up, the city was more impressive than it was at a distance. On several of the structures, the massive stones had been cut and slotted together like a jigsaw. There didn't seem to be any mortar between them, yet they were a perfect fit. He'd never seen anything like it before, although there were several enormous buildings in his father's realm, including the palace itself. He wondered how old these ruins really were – a thousand years? ten thousand years?

  He wanted to search systematically, so he began at the surviving pylon gate and began slowly to follow the main thoroughfare that led to the central plaza.. There were two possible types of well. One would be enormous borings to ensure a water supply for the city as a whole. These would probably be located somewhere near the centre. But there would be another type as well. Some families, particularly the wealthy ones, would want their own water supply and would have sunk shafts near their homes, possibly even inside them. It was these shafts that were more likely to hold some water now, rather than the over-used municipal borings.

  He walked slowly, alert for residential buildings. They weren't as easy to find as he'd thought. Thousands of people must have lived here once, but their homes would have been the smaller, less-well-constructed buildings – the first to fall to rubble. What was left now were segments of the massive city walls, portions of temples, ancient factories, observatories and the like. And in their ruined state, it was tricky enough to tell one type of building from another, especially when all you had to go on were a few flagstones or sections of enclosure walls.

  But one area looked promising. The buildings there had all but disappeared, leaving no more than tumbled stones and traces of foundations. It was those foundation outlines that attracted Pyrgus, for they seemed to show small houses clumped together. There were one or two dark crevices that could repay exploration. Even more exciting, there were two cracked slabs that might – just might – be covering shafts.

  He was clambering across some rubble to investigate when the demons seized him.

  Pyrgus fought like a demon himself. He had no chance to reach the knife Mr Fogarty had given him, but he punched and kicked furiously. There was something about the creatures that sent him into a frenzy of revulsion. They were nearly naked so he could see their repulsive, chalk-white, hairless bodies and their spindly limbs. When they touched him, his skin crawled.

  Individually, they were smaller than he was, but there were dozens of them and more swarming across the rubble to help. He had never seen so many in one place, never heard of so many appearing at one time. Even the most skilled Wizard of the Night could call up no more than three at once, not dozens. They chittered like insects and darted excitedly towards him, snatching at his clothing, then jumping back to avoid his flailing fists.

  He knew enough not to look at their faces. Instead, he concentrated on kicking at their legs, which were brittle and fairly easily broken. The trouble was, the demons knew that just as well as he did and took care to keep well clear of his boots.

  Something grabbed his head from behind and held it like a vice. Despite their size, demons were strong. He jerked and twisted, trying to break free, but the creature clung to him. Then more demon hands seized his head and in a moment he could no longer move it at all.

  'Nooo!' Pyrgus wailed.

  He stopped fighting to concentrate on what he knew was coming. He closed his eyes tight shut and tried to hit backwards at the demons holding his head. Then his arms were caught as well and he knew he was done for. Probing fingers crawled across his face to prise open his screwed eyes. He looked down at once, but the creatures anticipated the reaction and pulled back his head. He found himself looking into a demon face.

  The huge, black eyes stared into his own.

  'Be still,' a voice said in his mind.

  The sensation was hideous, like slime-mould oozing through his brain. He felt the paralysis beginning in his limbs.

  'Be still,' the demon voice repeated.

  'Rented a tent,' Pyrgus murmured. 'Rented a tent. Rented a, rented a, rented a tent.' It was something Tithonus had taught him. Sometimes rhythmic gibberish could lock your mind enough to break free of a demon's spell. 'Rented a tent. Rented a tent. Rented a, rented a – '

  'Your name?' the demon voice demanded in his mind.

  Don't think the name! Whatever you do, don't think – Once a demon knew your name, its power over you increased. He'd never heard of anyone escaping demons once they knew his name. Don't think P – P -No, don't think it! Rented a tent. Rented a tent. Rented a – Don't think – He felt the name hovering on the edges of his mind, waiting to rush in, to float in, to creep in. – tent, a tent, a tent, a pent, a py- Don't think P-P-P-P… Don't think PYRGUS! Dammit, dammit, dammit! Well at least don't think Pyrgus Malvae. Oh, double dammit!

  'Come with me, Pyrgus Malvae,' said the slime-mould in his mind.

  The demon hands released his arms and head. The demon horde fell back so that the way was clear. The demon speaking in his mind drew thin lips over tiny, pointed teeth. It took Pyrgus a moment to realise it was smiling. The creature turned and walked away across the rubble.

  Pyrgus followed like a lamb.

  Twenty-three

  Arthritic hands or not, Fogarty had the pump-action shotgun all together now. He sighted down the empty weapon and worked the pump a few times to make sure it was functioning properly. It gave a satisfying, well-oiled ratchet sound.

  'Your boy isn't here,' he said.

  The Purple Emperor leaned forward to look him directly in the eyes. 'I believe you, Mr Fogarty. I believe everything you have told me. I believe you were a friend to my son, as was the boy Henry you mentioned. But Pyrgus has not come home and I hope you will be a friend to me as well.' He held Fogarty's gaze for a long moment before adding, 'You will not find me ungrateful. Or ungenerous.'

  'What do you want?' Fogarty asked.

  'I want you to help me find him,' Apatura said.

  'What do I call you?' Fogarty asked. 'Highness? Majesty? Something like that?'

  'You may call me anything you wish, Mr Fogarty. You are not one of my subjects. My given name is Apatura Iris.'

  'All right, Mr Iris. I liked your boy. I liked him a lot. Tough little squirt – reminded me of myself when I was a kid. If I can help you find him, I will. But I don't see how.'

  The Emperor looked relieved. 'I think there are three possibilities,' he said. 'One is that your portal malfunctioned – '

  'My portal didn't malfunction,' Fogarty said promptly.

  The Emperor smiled slightly. 'Just possibilities, Mr Fogarty.
One, however unlikely, is that your portal malfunctioned and my son was sent some distance from the palace. Another, much more likely, is that Pyrgus set it wrongly, with the same result. You said he worked the thing himself before you even had time to test it.'

  'Yes, that's true,' Fogarty agreed.

  'The third is that he came back safely, more or less where he should, but felt he had to do something before he made his presence known.' He turned to Tithonus. 'Have I missed anything, Gatekeeper?'

  Tithonus shook his head. 'Not that I am aware, Majesty.'

  The Emperor turned back to Fogarty. 'If Pyrgus was accidentally sent a distance away, he is probably trying to make his way back to the palace. It would be useful if we could discover where the portal really did leave him. I thought you might co-operate with Chief Portal Engineer Peacock and his technical people to try to calculate exactly where he may have gone. At the same time, it's possible you might remember something he said that would give us a clue to where he went if he decided there was something he needed to do.'

  'You want me to come back with you? To your world?'

  'That would make sense. You and that boy Henry -Pyrgus may have said something to him too.'

  Fogarty opened the drawer in the kitchen table and took out a box of shotgun shells. 'I'm going to load this thing – that OK with you?'

  Tithonus glanced up sharply, but the Emperor said mildly, 'Please go ahead. Believe me, Mr Fogarty, if I did not trust you completely you would be restrained or dead by now.'

  Fogarty grinned and began to feed shells into the chamber. 'Henry hasn't been here for a while, but I expect he'll tip up soon. I'll leave him a portal control. He can follow us through and you can talk to him then.'

  Apatura hesitated. 'There was an attempt on my son's life. I'm not sure it's wise to have open access between our two worlds.'

  Fogarty's grin turned into his feral smile. 'Don't worry,' he said, 'I'll make sure nobody but Henry will be able to get through.'

  'Does that mean you will come with us, Mr Fogarty?' the Emperor asked.

  Fogarty worked the slide on the shotgun to rack a round into the chamber. 'Lock and load!' he said.

  Kitterick read Holly Blue's face. 'I take it we have not been successful, Serenity?'

  Blue shook her head. 'Nothing. Not a thing.'

  The dwarf pursed his lips. 'What now, Serenity? Shall we investigate Mr Chalkhill, or would you prefer it if I escorted you back to the palace?'

  Blue didn't like either possibility. It was late now, very late. She was getting tired and needed to sleep if she was to have a clear head for the rest of her investigation. At the same time, it irked her she'd found nothing in Brimstone's rooms – and wasted most of the night into the bargain. The weird thing was she'd found nothing suspicious at all, not just about Pyrgus, but about anything. Every drawer she'd opened, every paper she'd read showed Brimstone was a model citizen. Yet from everything Madame Cardui told her, Brimstone wasn't a model citizen. Far from it. He was a liar and a cheat who consorted with demons. And he'd taken a lot of trouble over his security. The special locks on his door. The lethal illusions in his – She froze. How had she missed it? How on earth had she missed it?

  'Serenity, where are you going?' Kitterick called.

  But Blue was already over the rubble and back on the stairs. 'Keep a look-out!' she shouted. 'I shouldn't be long!'

  On the first floor she crashed into the living room. It was exactly as she had left it: the illusion spell removed, the comfortable furnishings, the roll-top desk packed with all its innocent papers, the winking picture on the chest. She ran to the picture and bent down until she found the angle where it winked at her. Blue winked back and knew at once she had been right. The scent of a broken illusion was unmistakable.

  She spun round. At first glance, the room hadn't changed. Same carpeting, same furnishing. But she knew it must have changed. Brimstone was so clever. He'd set up an illusion within an illusion. Anyone who discovered the first one was supposed to think that was all there was – and she'd fallen for it completely. It never occurred to her there might be a second illusion spell cast over this comfortable room. But there was; and she'd switched it off now. All she needed to do was find out what the second illusion hid.

  Her eyes fell on the roll-top desk.

  She had it! She had it! These were Brimstone's real papers! As she sorted through them with excited hands, she found instance after instance of dirty business dealings. Fraud. Bribery. Embezzlement. Tax evasion. Illegal evictions. Dodgy contracts. It went on and on. Nothing about Pyrgus yet, but she was certain she would find it now. In one drawer she found records of Brimstone's work with demons. It was gross. He'd supplied them with animals – and even a few humans -for their rotten experiments. Blue wasn't as big a softie about animals as her brother, but even she found the details sickening. If Pyrgus had fallen foul of this smelly old nightmare, it was no wonder he'd got himself in trouble.

  Blue forced herself to go through the papers systematically. It stretched her patience to the limit, but paid dividends. It was only a scrawled note just five words long, a reminder by Brimstone to himself:

  Lock Beleth book in attic

  There was an attic! It had never occurred to her there was an attic so she hadn't searched for one. And while she'd no idea what the Beleth book was, the note meant Brimstone hid stuff up there. Probably magical stuff – Beleth sounded like a demon name. Maybe Pyrgus had got mixed up in Brimstone's magic somehow. But whatever: there was another place for her to search.

  She raced back up to the third floor, pausing only to squeak back at the stair tread so the Goblin Guard illusion wouldn't try to kill her. She thought there might be a trapdoor in the bedroom ceiling, but even when she stood on the bed there was no sign of one. She went next door to the bathroom and examined the ceiling there, again without result. Was there an illusion spell on this floor too? She spent another fifteen minutes searching for triggers and found nothing. If there really was another illusion spell it was well hidden.

  Blue sat down on the bed to think. She knew she'd been here far too long. She knew every extra minute she spent increased the chances of Brimstone coming back and finding her. But there was an attic. There was another place where Brimstone hid things. She couldn't give up now – she had to find it!

  She made one more search of the room, paying particular attention to possible illusion switches. There was a walk-in wardrobe full of Brimstone's clothes. The enclosed space had a nasty, old-man smell so she'd only taken a quick look before. Now she held her breath and actually stepped inside to tap the woodpanelled walls.

  There was a false back to the wardrobe! She'd no doubt at all. The wall sounded hollow. She pushed and prodded, pulled, rapped, even kicked it, but the wall remained firm. She fiddled with the wardrobe rails, searched for secret catches and illusion triggers. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. 'Oh, open up, you stupid thing!' she screamed in frustration. The back panel of the wardrobe slid back silently. Low-level glowglobes lit beyond.

  There was another staircase. Blue hesitated. It led upwards, clearly a secret entrance to the attic. But it also led downwards into gloomy depths. Where to?

  This was stupid, Blue thought. She knew Brimstone had hidden something in the attic. She knew she shouldn't really waste time investigating anywhere else. She knew that if she went down into those dark depths, she might run into more illusion spells… or worse. She knew all this, but she also knew she couldn't resist -she simply had to find out where those stairs led if she went downwards.

  Blue moved forward, then stopped. This was too easy. If she'd learned anything in the last hour, it was that Brimstone was one of the trickiest characters she'd ever come across. The whole house was full of magical illusions and traps, yet the panel in the back of the wardrobe – the panel that had to lead to Brimstone's secret attic room – was a mechanical device with the simplest possible sesame lock. Anybody could open it with a standard spoken Open up. And if she was honest, th
e panel itself hadn't been that difficult to find. She'd have found it far sooner if she hadn't been put off by the smell of Brimstone's clothes.

  Blue took a cloth cap from a peg behind her and threw it on to the staircase, then watched with horror as it passed right through the tread and tumbled down into the depths below. The stairs did not really exist at all. They were another illusion.

  If she'd stepped on to them, she'd have fallen to her death.

  Twenty-four

  Tithonus coughed discreetly.

  'Yes, Gatekeeper?' the Emperor asked.

  'Sire, there is the question of which portal we should use.' When the Emperor looked at him without speaking, Tithonus went on, 'We may use the House Iris portal, which I assume is what you had in mind – '

  The Emperor nodded. 'Yes.'

  'But we also have the option of using Mr Fogarty's portal – with Mr Fogarty's consent and co-operation, of course – which might give us some indication of where Crown Prince Pyrgus ended up when he used it.'

  For the first time in an hour, the Emperor's face lightened. 'Sound thinking, Tithonus! So obvious now you've mentioned it, but that had not occurred to me.' He turned to Fogarty, who was standing by the door now with his shotgun presented to point up at the ceiling. 'Mr Fogarty, will you permit us to use the portal you constructed?'

  Fogarty shrugged. 'Don't see why not,' he said.

  Blue thought she had it figured out, but she wasn't sure. If she was right, the trigger she'd applied would make the staircase solid again. If she wasn't, it would remain an illusion. She found another of Brimstone's caps and tossed it on the stairs. This time it stayed. It looked as if she'd stabilised the illusion, but there was really only one way to find out. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and stepped on to the staircase.

  She released the breath explosively. She hadn't fallen. The stairs were real and solid now.

  Blue opened her eyes and started downwards without a second's hesitation. Brimstone's house was far too dangerous for a return visit. If she was ever going to find out where this staircase went, it had to be now.