The War of the Flowers

by Tad Williams

  "I still don't understand — why me? These are, what, the Hellebores and Thornapples we're talking about, right? What could they possibly need me for?"

  "We don't know," Hollyhock admitted. "But no doubt they will be very upset to learn that you are with us."

  "You're going to tell them?" "He is cursedly full of questions," said Lord Daffodil. "Whatever his true nature, his mortal upbringing quickly comes to the fore." He didn't sound like he thought that was a good thing.

  "Hang on, I thought you were one of the families that liked mortals." Daffodil stared at him as if from a great height, which was actually more or less the case. "We Symbiotes don't feel that the mortals should be destroyed, but that the two races must find a way to coexist. That is hardly the same thing as liking them."

  Theo sat back in his chair, weary and depressed. He might not be a human being but he felt like one and thought like one. It wasn't much fun constantly being told how much everyone hated his kind around here. "So, excuse the mortal rudeness, but I still want to know why you're going to tell these people who want to kill me that I'm here?"

  "They don't actually seem to want to kill you," said Hollyhock, who at least seemed to be able to talk to Theo as though they were both of the same species. "That's part of the puzzle. We want to know why they've been chasing you just as much as you do. We're hoping that when they find you're here, they'll think we do know, and they'll either give up their plan or give it away."

  "So, mine shaft parakeet or whatever that bird is — that's me. Be honest, that's what you mean, right? Let's find out if I'm really important by seeing if they try to kill me again."

  "Even if they wanted to kill you," Lord Daffodil said, "they would not dare. Not as long as you are under my protection. That could bring about another Flower War, and nobody wants that, not even the most hotheaded of the Excisors like Hellebore."

  Theo looked out of the window. Beyond the walls of Daffodil House the city stretched out as far as he could see, except for the great dark expanse of Ys, the lake or ocean or whatever it was, full of boats that looked like silver clipper ships. The worst of the clouds had rolled through and the skies had turned a clear if muted blue. Theo realized for the first time that although he'd seen modern trains and automobiles here, he'd seen no sign of airplanes. Was that because some of these people could fly by themselves? But the wealthiest, most powerful group had no wings, so that theory didn't hold. Could it have something to do with the way the topography changed, the thing with the train stations and all that? He was about to ask about it when Lord Hollyhock suddenly said, "This has been very difficult for you, Master Vilmos, hasn't it?"

  He turned in surprise, assuming he was being mocked, but if the fairy lord was insincere he hid it well. "Yes," Theo said. "Yes, to tell the truth, it has. Dragged right out of my life into a world I didn't know existed, chased by monsters and a bunch of other imaginary creatures — imaginary to me, anyway. No offense. And now I'm told that I'm not actually a human at all, that my parents weren't my parents? Yeah, it's been a bit tough."

  "Please believe that we were not to blame for most of those things," said Hollyhock. "That we have indeed tried to help you." "Yeah. Yeah, I know. I may be pissed off, but I'm also grateful, especially for Applecore. She saved my life." A memory suddenly returned. "That thing that first came after me in my world — do you know about that?"

  "The undead thing?" asked Daffodil. "Doesn't make any sense, that. Why would Hellebore and that lot send something like that after him?" "Perhaps because it could go after him in his own world, where they thought we wouldn't discover what was going on," said Lady Aemilia. "Yes, Master Vilmos, we know about it."

  "Well, Count Tansy said that the thing was going to keep coming after me. I don't know when it's going to show up again, but I know that next time I may not have a convenient magic door to jump through. Tansy said you guys might be able to, I don't know, get that thing off my scent. Did he mention that?"

  "I have not spoken to Tansy in days," said Hollyhock. "But I was furious that he sent you to the City without a proper escort. My nephew Dalian was supposed to accompany you, but he was murdered on Mistletoe Green the day before you were to be brought from your world to ours. I suspect Hellebore's people — it has the smell of something of theirs, the careful cruelty."

  "They cut out his heart," said Theo.

  Hollyhock looked at him sharply. "How do you know that? Only the family saw the body and knew what was done to him." "I saw the heart. They sent it to Tansy in a silver box. I think it had, like, your house crest on it or something."

  The dark-haired fairy lord shook his head. "It was sent to Tansy? Tansy has the heart? Why? It makes no sense."

  Theo could only shrug. "Enough of this," said Daffodil. "These are small matters. The crime against you was terrible, Malvus, but I do not believe Lord Hellebore himself had anything to do with it. There are factions in his household and allied houses, some of them quite wild . . ."

  Lady Aemilia deftly cut in. "Whatever the case, it is time to move on to other matters — think of the summit conference. It begins this afternoon."

  "Summit conference . . . ?" Theo had almost entirely forgotten what Cumber had told him the night before, but it was coming back. "Yes, a meeting of the Six Families," said Lady Aemilia. "Where we will find out what the Hellebores and Thornapples think about you being our guest. They will be here, along with Lords Foxglove and Lily and their retinues, in a very short time."

  "Hang on a second." Theo suddenly had extremely damp palms. "You're telling me that the people who tried to kill me or capture me or whatever . . . are coming here, to Daffodil House? Today?"

  "We have asked for an Exigent Gathering, yes. There wasn't time to arrange use of another site because of the holiday," said Lady Aemilia. "Parliament is out of session and Lord Monkshood said he couldn't possibly provide sufficient security there on such short notice . . ."

  "What is he asking?" demanded Lord Daffodil. "You, Vilmos, do you think you should have some say about when the Six Families, the masters of the realm, should meet with each other?"

  "I think I should have some say about when I get trotted out for a bunch of people who seem to want me dead, and certainly want to see my friends and family back home wiped out, yes. Yes, I goddamn well do." "Perhaps it need not be that way, Master Vilmos," said Hollyhock. "Lady Jonquil, do we need to involve him in a face-to-face confrontation?"

  "No, probably not." She turned to Theo. "I will make an arrangement so you can watch the proceedings without having to be physically present. Would that satisfy you?" She said it nicely, but still managed to sound like she was soothing a child's tantrum. Theo, however, was not going to be drawn into the fairy nobility's stilted manners and old-world behavior.

  "Yeah, maybe. If it's safe." "Does the fool creature think someone is going to assault him in my house?" growled Lord Daffodil. For a fairy, he had turned a rather choleric shade of beige-pink. "Nonsense!"

  Lord Hollyhock turned to Theo. "I would like a little conversation with you before the meeting, Master Vilmos. Have you had lunch? No? Then perhaps you will join me for a meal in the chambers Lord Daffodil and Lady Jonquil have been kind enough to provide me. Let my hosts and I just finish discussing a few things here. Would you wait for me outside?"

  Theo nodded and stood. He still had a lot of unanswered questions, and so far the Hollyhock fellow was the only person who'd shown any signs of being willing to talk. As he walked out they fell silent behind him. He caught a reflection of them in the floor-to-ceiling window and saw that they were all staring at each other. Talking, it looked like, maybe even arguing, but without moving their mouths or making a sound.

  The outer room seemed to be empty except for the warthog-thing sitting behind the desk. "Applecore?" Theo called. "She went out," said the tusked creature. "She saw something on my security eyes." He gestured to the row of framed mirrors on the desktop. Theo leaned over to look. Each one appeared to contain a view of some part
of the compound or the surrounding streets. "She's quite a sweet little nutcracker, that one," the warthog said. "Not exactly the sugarplum variety, but I like a little spice myself." His overfilled mouth pursed for a moment and his brow furrowed. "Listen, can I ask you a question? Don't want to cause no offense. Are the two of you . . . you know, are you two an item?"

  "What is this?" Theo growled. "Why do people keep asking me that? Doesn't the fact that she's the size of a candy bar and I'm about a hundred times bigger than her tell you anything?"

  The warthog's tiny eyes opened wide. "Say, where are you from? Must be the farthest island in Ys or something — the hogboon-docks, for sure. Haven't you ever heard of cosmetic surgery?"

  "Cosmetic . . . ? You mean . . . ?" It was too bizarre. He didn't want to waste any more brainpower on the ins and outs of this cartoon world. "Look, did she say when she was coming back?"

  "No. She just said to tell you she thought she'd seen someone you knew and she was checking it out."

  "Someone she knew, it must have been." The secretary shook his bristly head. "Hey, I know my job, pal. She said someone you knew. She even said the name — Rufus or Findus or something."

  Theo thought for a moment. "Rufinus? But it couldn't have been him — he's dead." "Then she was probably wrong." The creature settled back and crossed one broad, pants-stretching thigh over the other. "But she's still pretty cute. Sassy, too — the way I like 'em."

  Theo was still trying to figure out what Applecore might have been talking about when Lord Hollyhock appeared and led him away to lunch.

  23 THE SHADOW ON THE TOWER

  The well-dressed brownie who brought lunch was so swiftly efficient that every time Theo saw him the brownie was in another part of the room, arranging the rolling tray, setting out drinks, adjusting the lighting and the blinds on the window with such nimbleness that it was hard to believe Hollyhock had sent his secretary and the rest of his staff away: the room seemed to be filled with other people. The last time Theo looked up, the dapper little fellow had vanished. Theo hadn't even heard the door open or close.

  "I'm glad you joined me," said Hollyhock, leaning forward to peruse the tray. Outside the Audience Chamber he was almost informal. "Have some of the melon — it's only in season for another week or so." He speared a piece with a long two-tined fork. With the fruit in his mouth, he waved the fork in a strange little pattern; immediately the air in the room felt closer, tighter. Theo's ears popped as if he had just changed altitudes. "Just a small discretion-charm," Hollyhock explained. "I'm certain our hosts respect my privacy, but too much trust of even one's allies is not a healthy idea in these sad times." He smiled, but his eyes were intent. "I said I was displeased with Tansy for having sent you unescorted. I am also unhappy that the Daffodil clan have been so slapdash in their care of you."

  "They took me in off the street," Theo said. "They have given you no guidance, no warnings, nothing. It's regrettable, but the City is not a safe place these days for almost anyone, and certainly not for you. I heard that Lady Aemilia's son took you to a club right inside Hellebore House. Is that true?" When Theo nodded, he scowled. "Criminal. Like putting your purse down on the sidewalks of Goblintown and expecting it to be there when you return. You seem to have been incredibly lucky. Perhaps a little too lucky." He lifted his fork again, held it up as though it were a baton and he were about to conduct Theo in an aria from Madame Butterfly. "Do you mind?"

  "Mind what?" "If I give you a brief inspection." He saw the puzzled way Theo was looking at the fruit fork. "Ah. It's silver, you see — a good conductor. Not a perfect item, but good enough to save me going through my belongings to find my wand." When Theo did not object, Lord Hollyhock closed his eyes and began to move the fork in lazy circles. Three different times he stopped and extended his free hand to snap up something invisible as though he were catching mosquitoes.

  "Just as I suspected," Hollyhock said when he had finished. "You were covered with them. But, to our fortune, they are all of the minor variety. I doubt it's anything deeper at work than the usual run of security policy at Hellebore House — they sprinkle them on everyone. You have a few on you from the Daisy commune as well, but they are days old and inert."

  Theo suddenly felt itchy all over. "Some what? Covered with what?" "Charms, I suppose you'd call them, although they're a bit more . . . manufactured than what that word generally connotes. Since you haven't any background in our sciences, as far as I know, it's a bit difficult to explain. Tiny surveillance devices."

  "Bugs!"

  Hollyhock smiled. "No, not living creatures at all. As I said, it's hard to explain . . ." "Oh, for God's sake, I know what a surveillance device is." Theo took a breath — he didn't want to offend this man. "That's what we call things like that back on . . . back in my world. Bugs." A chill tightened his skin. "Hang on — you mean I've been wearing those things? That the people at Hellebore House not only know exactly where I am, they've been listening to me?"

  Hollyhock shook his head like a kind father — No, son, you can never go down the drain in the bath. "I very much doubt it. These are minor charms, manufactured to attach themselves indiscriminately to anyone from outside Hellebore House who steps into their compound. Most of them weren't even working — disabled by Daffodil House's own countercharms when you returned, no doubt. The three I've just destroyed have been sending something back, but it couldn't have been much, since they were badly damaged by Daffodil defenses. These are common practices in the City." He set the fork down. "But it is evidence that this is all not being taken seriously enough. Tansy, Daffodil, even Lady Aemilia, although she's sharper than most of them, are all treating this like it's a bit of interfamily espionage over who will win the Trooping Banner at the Old Hill Day Games."

  Theo had been picking his way without much appetite through the fruit, bread, and cheese, although the melon was as good as advertised, with a curious minty, perfumed taste. In fact, everything on the tray was exotic and wonderful, but any urge to eat had now left him for good. "What exactly is 'this'?" he asked. "I keep hearing about a Flower War. Everybody says there's not going to be one, no one would dare start one, blah, blah, blah. That sounds to me like a divorce or somebody dying — whenever people talk that much about how something's not going to happen, it's usually because they're scared to death it will happen."

  "Your mortal background does you credit," Hollyhock said. "You see more than many in this city. Yes, I agree — I think they're all being foolishly optimistic, but I think that secretly they know it. It is a common cliché to say that no one wants a Flower War, but the fact is that there have been three of them just in recent history, one of them a very short time ago, and for much the same reasons as far as I can tell — major disagreements among the ruling families."

  "But what does it have to do with me?" Theo rubbed his face. He was beginning to feel the lack of sleep: it was getting harder to ignore the dull throb in his head from too much to drink the night before. "It's crazy."

  "I suspect it has something to do with the rumors I've heard, the truly chilling rumors. They say that the Hellebores have raised a Terrible Child."

  Theo shook his head. "I don't get it. They've got a bad kid?" "No, no. A Terrible Child is not an ordinary child, not by any stretch. It is a . . . thing, in a sense. The product of a very old and now shunned science from an earlier era. A child who is not born of woman in the normal way, although I do not know much more about the process than that — it is a thing you only hear about in old stories, so if Hellebore has managed it, he has managed something significant, however evil."

  "Evil?"

  "A Terrible Child is a sort of living invocation, if what I understand about it is true. A gateway to the Old Night."

  "Old Night. I have a feeling that's another one that means something really unpleasant." "It is the primordial crawling chaos out of which all order arose. It can only be restrained, not destroyed." The fact that the fairy lord could say such a thing as though he were ta
lking about the weather was what frightened Theo most. I'm stuck in a world where things like that are the plain truth. Magic is real here, even black magic. And I don't know shit about anything. "It has retreated now and touches the world only in a few shadowy spots," Hollyhock explained, "but out of those few places dreadful things erupt, madness and murder. To unleash Old Night in all its power would mean an entire era of blood and savagery and delusion, the twisting of everything known into its worst possible configurations."

  Theo wished he hadn't eaten. He had a sour, nauseating taste in his mouth. He lifted the crystal goblet of water that the fairy lord had poured for him and drank like a man in the desert. "It sounds horrible," he said at last. "But I still don't know what it has to do with me. Besides, why would these Hellebores want to do something like that, anyway? I saw their place — they're rich and powerful. If they ruin Faerie they'll be ruining themselves, too, won't they?" He took another drink.

  Hollyhock showed a grim smile. "I have no idea what any of it might have to do with you except that the coincidence seems too great to be ignored. But as to why the Hellebores would do such a thing, you have misunderstood me. They do not mean to unleash Old Night here. It is your world that they would plunge into an epoch of torment — or at least what was your world. The world of mortals."

  ————— It took Theo a while to finish coughing and wheezing. As he dabbed at his wet shirtfront with the napkins Hollyhock handed to him, he tried to make sense of it. "You're saying that . . . that these crazy bastards, the Hellebores and Thornapples . . . that they're planning to destroy my entire world?" He had absorbed the idea that Applecore's Chokeweeds — Excisors, as they seemed to like to call themselves — bore a grudge against humans and even might want them wiped out, but he had put it in the category of some kind of terrorist cell — the source of occasional acts of violence, perhaps, but not of an actual plan for total genocide.

  "Unleashing Old Night would not destroy it so much as transform it out of all recognition," said Hollyhock. "But the results would still be horrible."