Lord's Fall

by Thea Harrison

  That was the best conversational opening Pia had seen yet, and she took it. “Speaking of ancients, I hear that Elves from Numenlaur are visiting.”

  A shadow darkened Linwe’s animated expression. “Yes, although very few people have seen them. They have been closeted away ever since they arrived. I heard one of them might be ill.”

  Whatever Pia might have expected to hear, that wasn’t it. She wasn’t aware Elves could suffer from illness. “I’m sorry.”

  Linwe shrugged a slender shoulder. “It’s gossip. I don’t know anything for sure.”

  “Do your ancients ever talk about why they warred with each other?” Pia asked.

  Johnny and Eva’s silence grew more intense. When she looked over her shoulder, the other two Wyr stood several feet away and appeared to be studying the carved patterns in the passageway.

  She could also tell by Linwe’s wide-eyed glance that she had surprised the other woman. “You know of that?”

  It was her turn to shrug. How much should she admit to knowing? Keep it simple, stupid. She said, “Dragos is my mate.”

  That seemed to have more impact than she had expected. Linwe’s eyes rounded, and she took a deep breath and blew it out so that her blue-tipped bangs bounced in the air. “Yes, of course,” Linwe said. “Then you must know of the Deus Machinae.”

  The whosie whatsit?

  Pia smiled. She said, “I don’t know the details of the story the way you learned it.”

  Either Linwe didn’t notice that Pia was pumping her for information or she didn’t care. The Elf said, “I was taught that there are things on this Earth, Powerful things that were put here by the gods to enact their will. They have had many forms and have been called many names over time, but ever since the time of the classic Greek poets—Horace, Euripides, Aeschylus and such—they have been called the Deus Machinae, or the God Machines.”

  Pia shook her head and murmured, “I haven’t had much of a classical education, but wasn’t the deus ex machina a plot device in Greek plays?”

  Linwe’s gaze touched hers briefly. “Yes, it literally means the ‘god from the machine.’ Anyway at one point, or so I’ve heard the story go, the Elves had possession of all seven of the Deus Machinae at once, and they agreed this was a significant event. Then they began to argue about which of them was meant to rule and how.”

  “I take it that didn’t go so well,” Pia said dryly.

  “No, not so well. Some said the one who possessed Taliesin’s Machine was destined to rule, for Taliesin is the god over all the other gods. Others said, no, Inanna, the goddess of Love, should reign supreme. Or perhaps Azrael, the god of Death. Or the bearer of Hyperion’s item, since Law is the cornerstone of any civilization. Whether it was their ambition or the Power of the Machinae themselves, the ancients couldn’t agree. Instead they—we—came to blows. Apparently we nearly destroyed ourselves.”

  “Dragos said it caused a diaspora,” she said softly.

  Linwe glanced at her. “Yes, those who survived finally came together and made a covenant. They split into seven groups, and each group took an item. Numenlaur was one of them. The other six groups promised to travel far away from each other, so that they would dissipate the Power of the Machinae, and end the war and all the chaos that had come with it. All seven groups were supposed to cast their items into the world, letting the gods’ will work where it would.”

  Pia became aware suddenly of a cold, steady wind that blew along the crossover passageway. The wind must have come from the Other land for it smelled strange, and it felt wet and heavy with a sense of snow that the Wood didn’t have on this side of the passage. She shivered, pulled her anorak close and asked, “Did they do it?”

  Linwe shook her head. “Nobody knows for sure. Maybe they did. Maybe some of the groups lied and said they did, but instead they kept their items. Or maybe they tried to keep them only to have the Machinae slip out of their grasps, because no one can control the will of the gods. Some of the original groups disappeared, and Numenlaur closed itself off from the rest of the world. All I know is that our High Lord and Lady kept their word.”

  Maybe those groups that had disappeared were the precursors to the Light and Dark Fae. Linwe’s faith in her demesne rulers was touching, but Pia couldn’t help but wonder if it was naive. She ducked her head, trying to keep her expression neutral. She asked, “Whose item did Calondir and Beluviel carry away with them?”

  “Inanna’s, the goddess of Love,” the Elf said, smiling. “At the time, Inanna’s Machine appeared as a golden chalice that fit into two cupped hands.” She held her hands together to demonstrate the size. “The goddess was depicted as riding a chariot around the bowl, and seven gold lions circled the base.”

  “It sounds like it must have been striking.”

  “I’ve heard that it was so beautiful, apparently everyone who saw it wanted to drink from it. The High Lord’s group sailed west across the ocean. When they sighted land, everyone in the group drank from the chalice one last time so that they all felt the goddess’s Power, and then he threw it overboard.”

  “Dramatic but effective,” Pia murmured, recalling the tapestry with Calondir and a gold cup in their apartment. She wondered which group ended up with Taliesin’s item.

  Not only did the convoluted Wood mess with her sense of direction, but with the sky so overcast, she couldn’t guess how much time had passed. She glanced skyward, then at Eva, who said, Been a couple hours. Hugh should have made it out by now.

  Which told Pia exactly nothing. She took a deep breath and tried to ease the tension that had knotted the muscles at the base of her neck. Either shit would hit the fan or it wouldn’t. Apparently that was the story of her day.

  Story of her life, come to that.

  After thanking Linwe for the tour, Pia chose to go back to their rooms. The others played chess, did sit-ups and push-ups and napped. Johnny coaxed Pia into playing a game of chess too, but she knew little beyond the basic moves and she was too preoccupied to focus well, and he trounced her thoroughly. Afterward she went to her bedroom to pace.

  Calondir did not grant her an audience. Neither Beluviel nor Ferion appeared. Pia did not hear anything from Dragos or about him. Beluviel did send a note of apology and promised to see Pia the next day, but other than that nothing at all happened for the rest of the day.

  Nothing, nothing, nothing.

  NINE

  The group had lunch brought up to them and by evening Pia couldn’t stand the sight of the apartment any longer.

  They went to the main hall for supper, which was filled with quite a few more people than had been present at breakfast. Supper was robust winter fare, hot and filling: roasted deer, rabbit and pheasant, white and sweet potatoes, roasted chestnuts, loaves of chewy honey nut bread, pumpkin and cranberry tarts, baked apples and plenty of wine, beer and water.

  Linwe joined them, along with a few of the other Elves that had traveled with them on the previous day, and the meal passed with plenty of lively conversation. Most of the people in the hall didn’t leave when they had finished dining. Instead a few fetched musical instruments, and soon the sound of flutes, fiddles and drums filled the hall.

  After several people called out in encouragement, a slender male with a sensitive-looking face stood to sing a ballad in Elvish. Even though Pia didn’t understand a word of the song, the music and the flow of the lyrical words were haunting.

  Pia watched and listened in silence. Everyone was friendly, the music was excellent and she had not heard anything bad, not from Dragos, Hugh or Calondir.

  So that meant everything was fine, right? The evening should have been pleasant.

  Table lamps and the firelight from both massive hearths gave the hall a warm, golden illumination. Sparks of Power from individuals glowed in her mind’s eye like fireflies lighting a warm summer nig
ht, and the wild, secretive Wood’s presence blanketed them all. She could sense so much Power, and it was all undiluted by distractions from technology like television, cell phones and street traffic.

  A few especially strong glows seemed to shine in the distance. Perhaps those were Linwe’s “ancients.” Two of the glows might even be Calondir and Beluviel.

  But underscoring everything was a sense of dread and anxiety she could not overcome. She had to force herself to unclench her fists. Then only a few minutes later she discovered that she had clenched them again. She ate because she was starving and eating was compulsory these days, but the food sat in her stomach like a rock. An unseen pincer gripped her by the back of the neck, causing a dull, throbbing ache.

  Her tension roused the peanut whose awareness draped around her neck, his bright, loving energy unsettled. She put a hand over her abdomen, whispering silently, I’m sorry, baby. She tried to soothe him, but she didn’t really know what she was doing, and she was still tense and filled with dread herself. His presence sharpened until it felt spiked with invisible claws. For the first time since she had become aware of his existence, he felt dangerous.

  Oh great, go ahead and scare the dragon baby, why don’t you? Knucklehead. She breathed deeply and evenly. Calm down.

  She could just see how the future was going to go. If the peanut really turned out to be dangerous after he was born, Dragos might have to be the one to take care of him whenever he had a toddler tantrum. Yeah, it was going to be fun to get the answer to that question. For the first time that whole, rotten day she felt an evil, sneaking sense of cheer.

  Gradually the baby calmed down again. As she turned her attention away from him she felt again the sense of something lying stealthy and quiet underneath all the other sparks of Power, and her fists clenched.

  Realization struck. Yes, she was worried and anxious, and she missed Dragos horribly, but whatever the hell she was sensing, it wasn’t her own fear. It definitely existed outside of herself.

  Had it always been there, only she had been too preoccupied to notice? Or had it crept in since they had arrived? The words dark and light didn’t seem quite accurate when describing nonphysical qualities, but that stealthy, quiet thing felt like the antithesis of those sparks of Power that glowed so brightly against her mind’s eye.

  She turned to Eva, who sat beside her and murmured, “Do you feel anything odd?”

  Across the table James’s gaze flickered to them even as he laughed at something one of the others said. Beside him, Miguel shifted his seat back and settled into a lounging position that, Pia noticed, also happened to free his legs so that he could leap easily to his feet. Even though the others appeared relaxed and were clearly enjoying themselves, they had not sacrificed an iota of their alertness.

  Like Pia, the captain had also been silent as she listened to the conversation. Eva sat in her chair at an angle, legs crossed at the ankles. She rested one elbow on the table, chin in her hand as she watched not only their group but also everyone else in the hall. Her black, alert gaze considered Pia thoughtfully.

  Eva asked telepathically, Like what?

  Following Eva’s lead, Pia switched to telepathy. How strong is your magic sense?

  This time Eva didn’t bother with any taunting street talk. Pretty good. Miguel is the real magic user in the group, though, so his is the best out of all of us.

  Pia rubbed the back of her aching neck as she tried to come up with the right words. I just picked up on something. It’s very quiet.

  Hold on.

  As Pia waited, she ran her gaze over the main hall again. Whatever it was, she didn’t think it was in the hall, but pinning a physical geography to the feeling was as difficult and slippery as trying to explain it with physical descriptors.

  Then Eva said, None of us are sensing anything. Can you get any more specific?

  She thought of how she had sensed the Goblins who had kidnapped her and Dragos in May. Dragos hadn’t sensed the Goblins either. Frustration gripped her. The feeling was growing all too familiar on this trip.

  I can feel different Powers in the area, she said. Some of them are definitely people, although I can also sense the Wood. This other thing is lying underneath all the rest. It’s like a patch of black ice on the road. You might not be able to see the ice very well even though you know it’s there.

  How dangerous do you think it is?

  Dragos had thought her sensitivity to the Goblins might be connected to her Wyr form. Should she open that can of worms with Eva?

  She shook her head. I don’t know. I’ve never felt it before. It’s making my stomach knot. I don’t know if I just became aware of it, or if it’s something new to the area since we arrived. She looked into the other woman’s sharp gaze. The last time I felt something strange, I was beaten and nearly killed. But this is a different situation. I don’t think this . . . thing is physically here in the hall. I’m not even sure that what I’m sensing is active.

  Yet, Eva said. It might not be active yet. Bombs are inert until they go off.

  Pia grimaced. Point.

  Think we should take a walk, see what you pick up from different areas. I’d like to get an idea of how localized it is, if we can. Maybe Miguel can get bead on it somewhere else, or we can get a direction on it.

  Pia said aloud, “After such a big meal I could stand to stretch my legs a bit.” She stood, and the rest of the people at the table, Elves and Wyr alike, politely stood with her.

  “Miguel, come with us,” Eva said to their group, smiling. “The rest of you, relax and enjoy the music.”

  Miguel winked at Linwe, stood and fell into step behind Pia and Eva as they turned away.

  Pia kept her stride casual and her expression calm, while her heart rate sped up. Stupid, but there it was. She returned nods and smiles to people while she, Eva and Miguel worked their way through the crowd to the doors that led outside.

  The night air was chilly and damp, and patches of fog had begun to appear again, drifting over the area like aimless ghosts. The other two kept silent as Pia chose to descend the main staircase beside the falls. Two lit braziers illuminated the bottom of the stone steps and other braziers dotted the open area, marking the entrance to paths into the forest.

  Other people were outside, walking and talking quietly, with the occasional outburst of laughter ringing out over the clearing. A few were couples, arm in arm. She felt jarred and disoriented as she glanced around again and realized that the scene was actually quite pretty, and people were out to simply enjoy the night.

  Choosing a direction at random, she walked across the shadowed clearing and stopped by the boulder with the subtle face. The Wood’s presence felt stronger at night. It pressed against her skin, unsettling and intoxicating at once. She resisted another urge to change and disappear into the dark foliage. Some Wyr went wild and never returned to their human form. For the first time she began to understand the lure.

  Then she turned in a slow circle. At first she couldn’t sense anything beyond the Wood, but she cast out further with her mind.

  There. She felt certain that the nearby quiet, intense glow of Power was Miguel, and that the weaker one was Eva. Then other, different glows came clear.

  And there it was again, that slick, subtle patch of black ice. Certainty settled inside, and she knotted her fists. “It’s in the building,” she said.

  “Damn.” Eva sighed. “Okay.”

  Miguel said, “I still got nothing. I can’t pick up on whatever you’re sensing.”

  “That means we have to rely on you,” Eva told Pia. “And if we aren’t going to leave, you need to speak up immediately if you feel it change.”

  She nodded, frowning. Beluviel had been very kind to her, and it wasn’t the consort’s fault that events had given her a surfeit of houseguests and issues to attend to. Wh
ile Pia was wary of putting herself in the shoes of someone who was so different in race, age and outlook, she couldn’t help but do so this time. Pia would want someone to tell her if something like that black . . . thing was lurking anywhere around her home.

  She said, “I need to talk to Beluviel.”

  Even in the shadows, she could see Eva and Miguel exchange a look. “For all we know, she might be responsible for it,” Miguel said, his voice pitched very low. “Needs to be considered.”

  Pia shook her head and spoke just as softly. “I don’t believe that. It feels entirely alien from Beluviel’s energy, and even though there are some Powerful Elves here, it’s possible none of them can sense this anymore than you can.” She looked at Eva. “You know that experience I mentioned earlier? Dragos didn’t sense what I picked up then either.”

  Eva sucked a tooth and looked sour, but she said, “All right. Let’s go find her.”

  They walked across the clearing and up the stairs, and Pia stopped the first Elf in a house uniform that they came to, a woman with hair so blonde it was almost white.

  “Please take me to the consort,” Pia said.

  The woman regarded her with wide eyes. “Perhaps I can take a message and she can get back to you.”

  “I know it is late,” Pia said gently. “And I know the consort has been very busy. But I need to talk to her right now, and you need to take me to her.”

  The Elf’s posture grew rigid, but she said, “Yes, ma’am.”