by J M Robison
And the giant hole cut out of it.
“Fǽder, why is it bleeding?”
I open my mouth. I can’t speak. I must conserve all my focus for breathing.
Blood splatters out of the damaged edge of the jagged hole. Fae Wood is not impossible to cut, though I know of nothing that can do it. Maybe a Black Magician’s demon with a stout enough blade.
Brynn.
Fear powers my limbs, though I feel I’m slogging through water.
“What’s wrong, Fǽder?”
I climb through the hole, spelling myself onto the bridge as soon as my gaze locks onto it. I sprint through the double doors, which are already open.
“Brynn?” The Grand Hall echoes too loudly. It never echoes this loudly when Brynn is home. “Brynn!” I dash over the floor, up the stairs, and into the corridor. She’s not in the kitchen and does not respond when I shout her name. I’m out of breath from the terror pulsing in my throat and bloating my tongue.
I reach our bed chamber. There’s no sign of struggle. Levi is not in his crib, his blanket missing. Maybe they were hiding from whoever cut the hole in the Fae Gate. The undercroft.
I’m out of breath, but I run anyway. I enter the parish, despite my immortal fear of it, and toe the edge of the hole in the floor.
“Brynn?”
Blood beats in my ears so loud I can’t be sure if I heard her voice. Only a visual will do, so I climb down the ladder into the undercroft for the first time in six years. It’s empty. I run into the tunnel I made in the wall which empties near the river. The fresh snowfall overnight does not betray any escaping footsteps.
I run back into the parish. I’ll search the roof. I’m climbing the stairs out of the parish just as Eudora comes down them.
“Fǽder, I found this.” She hands a slip of paper to me. I snatch it from her. “Where’s Modor and Levi?”
I don’t hear her. Blood rushes out of all four limbs and into my core as horror surges through me.
See you at the Pantheon. I’ll be watching for your arrival
- Carlo Vizzardelli
* * *
I relocate into the study through the window, startling Jaicom, so he drops his writing instrument with a flinch. “Zadi–”
“Upon whence be’s the Pantheon!” I wail, struggling to breathe and failing to dam my tears. I press my hand on the bookshelf to keep my balance as my world tips sideways as if to dump me off it.
“Zadicayn, I don’t understand your Old English. Take a deep breath.”
I can’t do that. My lungs only expand to allow for short, gasping sobs.
I don’t remember how to speak New English. I barely have the presence of mind to remember how to inhale. “The Pantheon…where is the Pantheon?”
Jaicom Whaerin watches me without blinking, turned in his chair with an elbow hooked over the back of it where he’s draped his coat. His blond hair shines with pomade. “Rome. In Italy.”
Blackness spatters my vision. Our needs for your magic supersede your refusal. See you in Rome, Fae Wizard.
The undercroft reaches out to suck me back inside, strip me naked, and replace my heart with a steam-powered animation. I’m breathing too heavily and quick. My arms have numbed, and my legs would have dropped me except I need them to take me to Italy.
“What’s wrong?” Jaicom rises from his chair, grabbing hold of his cane.
Words won’t form, my dry throat tightened, so my hysterical sobbing barely makes it past.
“Sit down,” he commands and guides me to a chair. He presses down on my shoulder, and I sit. He shoves a goblet in my hand. “Drink it.”
I do as commanded, chugging the syrup though the bitterness zings my nostrils. It blesses me with brief clarity I seize with both hands. “He’s taken Brynn and Levi.”
A pause. “Who’s he?”
“The Illuminati.” I glance at him, and his stoic expression says he wants to believe me so long as I make sense.
Jaicom inhales as if to say many things, but only manages, “Oh.” He shakes his head. “The Illuminati. You’re sure?”
“Yea. They cut into the Fae Gate and gained entry into my castle. They left a note.” I dig into my pocket and thrust it at him.
He takes it, un-crumpling it until he can hold the paper flat in front of him. “This says nothing about taking Brynn and Levi.”
“They’re not at home. I searched everywhere. Even waited three hours just in case. They’re gone.”
“Did you check with Brynn’s parents?”
“Her mother hates me. If they are not there, then I’d have to confess that her daughter and grandson are missing.”
“So, they could be there?”
I do my best not to lose my patience at Jaicom and shout at him. “Did ye not hear the part about a hole being cut out of the Fae Gate? Anyone could walk into my valley now.”
“Fine. Someone took your wife and son. Why are you jumping to the Illuminati? They disbanded before the eighteenth century and have fallen into obscurity like the Fae Wizards. And why would they take your wife and son?”
I drop my head into both hands, sobs shaking my shoulders. All the emotional stability I’ve strengthened since I vacated the undercroft crumbles so I’m once again the hairy fopdoodle Brynn held in her lap while I nearly lost my mind.
Jaicom steps out of his study. “Fanny, bring me cognac,” he shouts into the foyer. He comes back and sits in the chair near mine, resting his elbows on both knees, and leans forward. His attitude shifts from irritated denial to warming sympathy. “Tell me what you know, Zadicayn.”
I do so, rushing through my meeting with the Black Magician (Jaicom asks, “What’s a Black Magician?” So I rush through that, too), and finish with me entering his office.
There’s a knock on the door, and it opens. A woman sets a silver tray with a bottle and two goblets on the small table at my elbow. “Afternoon, Mister Eldenshod.” She bustles out again.
Jaicom pours both of us a full goblet and hands me one. I take an ill-advised deep swallow of my drink; Jaicom sips his. The door to his office opens, and in steps, a little boy I swear is Jaicom eighteen years younger.
“Mister Eldenshod,” the boy asks, “did Eudora come with you?”
“Not this time, Henry.” Because I put her in the Fae Realm to keep her safe in my absence.
“Oh.” Sad blue eyes drop, and the boy steps out, closing the door.
“So…Italy.” Jaicom sets his porcelain goblet on the silver tray with a sharp thunk. “I suppose you’re going then?” He holds his gaze on his goblet, hand still wrapped around it.
I toss my empty goblet from hand to hand. The ticking grandfather clock in the corner counts fifteen seconds before Jaicom replies with a stiff, “I’m going to Italy?”
“I have to get her back.” I’ll drop to my knees and beg, hold him by the throat and threaten. I need additional help. I need guidance. I need an army. I need someone to point out the trap the Illuminati have set for me because I’ll march blindly into it the moment I lay eyes on Brynn.
“When was she taken?”
“I last saw her yesterday. I met with Carlo last evening. I’d guess he left for Valemorren after our meeting, though I’ve no idea what he used for travel. Trains don’t run that late. Being a high-level Black Magician, he could have called upon the devil himself to assist.”
“Is it just Carlo, or do you suspect more people to be involved?”
“I can’t even guess.”
“Could he still be in England? If they’re taking her to Italy, they will take a steamboat across the channel from Dover.”
“Being a Black Magician with two more bodies, I suspect he’d avoid public transportation.”
“Then how–”
“I dost nary wit!” I slip into Old English again. I can’t help it. My wife was kidnapped. I’ll rend the earth apart to get her back if I knew the spell. I can’t even commission the help of law men. I’m still wanted by them, and I have no proof verifying
her actual kidnap. “I don’t know,” I amend softly.
I stand and pace, my tears solidifying into holy wrath. “Can I commission thy help, Jaicom?” Hands behind my back, I look at him.
His eyes drop from mine. He leans back and rolls his thumb around the smooth top of his cane. “Of course, Zadicayn.” His deep hesitation appears as two furrows across the length of his brow. He has a wife, three younghedes, and a business which will feel his absence. “I’ll need to tell Clarissa.” He sits for a full moment longer, then rises from his chair and exits the study.
He returns sooner than I would have expected if I had to break the news to my wife, but then I’d have Brynn’s full support if Clarissa was kidnapped.
His hesitant demeanor has been replaced with better purpose. “I imagine you want to leave right away, but there are some things I need to make ready for my absence. The trip will take us two weeks. I’ll be ready in the morning.”
I force this disheartening fact to embolden my purpose. “A’right.”
“Meet me here?”
I shake my head. “In my castle. I have a shortcut to Dover.”
His frown betrays he doesn’t believe me but doesn’t object, because he’s already accepted many things about me he doesn’t understand. “See you in the morning. And Zadicayn? I’m sorry.”
I clench my teeth and accept his condolences with a nod. I look out the window and relocate out of his study.
Chapter Six
Brynnella
It’s hard keeping my fear out of the milk Levi suckles. I’m terrified to close my eyes, even though I did so for a harried nap a short while ago. I must keep reminding myself I’m in some sort of carriage because this room threatens to convince me otherwise and to believe lies will ruin me. I must constantly remember I’m beholden to a Black Magician.
Has Zadicayn discovered I’m gone? Did the Black Magician indicate to him in some way where he’s taking me? Levi suckles, and my heart aches with the weighted fear of the unknown. Why did he kidnap me? Where am I going?
Levi squirms, and I wake up with a start. How long was I asleep? The door where the Black Magician disappeared remains closed.
I can’t stay awake forever. If the Black Magician wanted to harm me or Levi, he would have already.
I secure Levi tightly to me with the blanket and drift away, though fear remains active in my brain like the gears on a clock. I wake to the room still vibrating with that sense of motion I cannot explain. More like a train than a carriage. The lack of windows drives anxiety through me because I can’t tell what time of day it is. This could be an elaborate set-up to make me think we are going somewhere when we haven’t moved at all, just to drive me mad. Though, what my madness would serve to the Italian, I do not know.
I leave Levi sleeping. He didn’t wake up the entire time I slept, however long that was. I can’t tell. He must have really burned all his energy with his screaming earlier. I walk to the door I entered this room through and try the knob. Locked. I walk to the door the Italian disappeared through and find it unlocked. I hold my breath and ease it open.
The view through the crack reveals another room identical to mine. Another door across from me might yield my escape. I don’t see the Italian. I don’t want to stick my head inside further, or he might guess my attempt.
I back away and close the door.
I upset Levi when I wake him, but he’s happy enough to nestle against my breasts as I wrap a black sheet around us both, securing Levi to my body, so I’ve got both hands free. He’s tuckered back down to sleep, and I move to the door again. I ease it open until I see the door across the room.
Emboldening myself, I assess every action I’ll need to make, and yank open the door, sprinting across the room. The Italian sitting at the desk spins on his seat.
“You shouldn’t,” he says with alarming calm.
I wrench on the unlocked handle, and the door and the world yawns open beneath me. I catch myself from taking another step and clutch the door frame.
Tiny globes of lights spread the distance across the midnight landscape far below, sliding away from me as the room of my confinement moves onward. I’ve seen the exact same view on the backs of pegasi.
Flying.
“Where…” I swallow, throat dry, cool air hushing hair across my cheek like wisps of spider silk.
“Close the door before you fall out,” he drawls behind me.
I can’t close the door. I need to stay visible so Zadicayn can see me. Hear me.
“Where are you taking me?” I want to shriek the words, turn them into daggers, and stab him. But Levi is awake, and his wide eyes watch me for his cue to panic.
The Italian’s back is to me, his bandaged hand touching his hair and the other scratching a quill over parchment. “Close the door. I won’t be able to save you if you fall out.”
I sink to the floor, pressing a shoulder against the doorway. Hot tears flood my cheeks without a whimper; the Italian’s dismissive attitude turns my aching fear into fury I can’t unleash. I watch the darkness swallow the lights into the distance.
Chapter Seven
Zadicayn
The kitchen fire dries out my eyes, but I continue watching the flickering flames to distract me from the motionless bedchamber where my wife and son should be sleeping. I shan’t sleep in there tonight. I shan’t even sleep in the kitchen, but it’s where I’ve lain my blankets like I did after I first left the undercroft.
Carlo entered my home when I thought my family was safe. Cut through the Fae Wood and took them.
I’ve left Eudora in the Fae Realm to be watched over by Lorcrante while I’m gone. I had to leave her sad eyes while I came back here. I won’t have her hurt during the night in case the Illuminati come for her, and I can’t stay with her until morning because I can’t chance the Faewraith won’t come in my absence.
I’m waiting for Jaicom in the Grand Hall when he arrives with the sun, holding a bag in one hand. He removes his black top hat. He comes toward me with steady purpose, dress shoes clicking across my floor, resonating in the massive space, offset by his limp and tapping of his cane.
“Top of the morning to you,” he greets.
I nod, unable to summon cheer in return.
He stops beside me, and I watch his blue gaze make quick assessment of my choice of clothes. I’m not an Englishman right now. I’m a wizard heading to battle with demonic forces. So I will dress appropriately.
“You might get some looks on the train,” he says.
At the same time, I assess his pressed suit and shined shoes. Blond hair, combed to one side, shines even in the dim light of my Grand Hall. “Not nearly as odd as the person I’m bringing along.”
“Me?”
“Ye look pretty. Men are not supposed to look pretty.”
His eyes narrow. “Forgive me for not being born in the era where a man’s worth was determined by the weight of his armor and the length of his sword.”
I find the strength to smile. “And I was talking about the two others I asked to join us.”
He looks to both walls and up at the ceiling.
“We shall pick them up on our way to Dover.”
“Right. Let’s be off, then.”
I shoulder my pack and take the lead.
I catch his curious glance looking at all what he hasn’t already seen as we go deeper underground. Present-day Englishmen have this obsession with something called drawing rooms, though I’ve never seen anyone drawing in them. Only sit idly and talk mostly of useless things. Brynn advised we convert a spare room into a room of which one may draw, so we could have a place to put people when they come to visit. I rebutted with the obvious, “We shall put them in the Grand Hall. ’Twas why it was built with such massive elegance and flair.”
With the voice of reason bestowed upon all women, she replied with, “It echoes too much, and I’d never be able to keep it clean.”
I led Jaicom down into the larder, and deeper still into the dome
d room where the Fae Arch was kept.
“Ah. I remember,” he says.
How could he forget? I brought him to the Fae Realm through here after his father shot him in the leg, pulled the bullet out, and brought him back.
“I have to have hands on thee to take ye into the Fae Realm.”
He nods, holding out his arm for me to take. We step through, and he takes a deep breath.
“Ah…” He tips his head back. “That’s right. The Fae Realm takes away pain.” To prove his statement, he jumps up and down on his injured leg. “Can we travel through the Fae Realm all the way to Rome?”
“There isn’t a Fae Arch in Rome, but there is in Dover.”
“How unfortunate.”
In the Fae Realm side of my castle, we walk back up through the larder, through the stone corridors, and across the Grand Hall. The Fae Realm runs parallel to, and looks exactly like, the Human Realm, minus any changes made by humans or animals. My castle being the exception since I work for the Fae.
I pull open the doors and step outside. It’s night, and I see Jaicom’s discomfort at the unexpected time change.
“Why is it night out?”
“Fae time equals about an hour for every human minute.”
“That’s absurd.”
“So is the fact ye don’t feel pain, yes?”
He looks at me, laying his cane across his shoulders, gripping it with both hands. “Right. Lead the way.”
We walk across the bridge to the relocation platform on the other side. We step onto the wide disc of white and black Fae Wood.
“Have you decided if you’re going to work for the Illuminati?” he asks.
I grip his sleeve. “I’m going to relocate us a couple of times. The sensation is the same as ye feel when ye relocate with my bloodstone to the Fae Gate.”