Silver Ravens

by Jane Fletcher

  The queen placed the scroll on the table. “Keila tal lo ae yarile da calido.”

  “This is the text Her Majesty requires you to decode.” Gaius gave the translation. Presumably, this was his sole reason for being there, since he was not doing anything else.

  Lori nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  Queen Rianna spoke again.

  “On no account may the scroll leave this room. Nor may you take notes or copies with you when you go. Her Majesty asks if you understand.”

  “Tell Her Majesty yes, I understand.” She trusts me just as much as I trust her.

  Gaius continued translating in his listless drone. “As soon as you discover the key to the code you must send word to Her Majesty. You do not need to decrypt the entire text.”

  You don’t want me to read whatever it says. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Her Majesty has assigned me to assist you. I will be with you at all times and will report to Her Majesty on your progress.”

  Or lack of it. Lori said nothing.

  The queen handed the cabinet key to Gaius. Clearly, he was trusted, although from the way she acted, Gaius might have been a peg on the wall.

  “Her Majesty hopes to hear from you shortly.”

  Queen Rianna turned to the door.

  “Excuse me, Your Majesty.”

  Queen Rianna stared at Lori, her expression somewhere between surprise and offence. “Asita a palloni chi da calido.”

  Without understanding a word, Lori had no difficulty picking up on the reprimand. The queen was obviously unused to lesser folk addressing her without permission.

  “Her Majesty says her instructions are clear. All that is required is for you to obey.”

  “Please apologise to Her Majesty for me, but I need some background information. The more I know about the contents of the scroll, the quicker I’ll be able to decode it. I need to make informed guesses about likely words.”

  “Her Majesty says all your questions may be addressed to me.”

  This was not encouraging. It took three attempts to get Gaius to reveal his name.

  Unexpectedly, the queen relented. “Her Majesty says the scroll was written by her great-great-great-grandmother, Morgaine, first High Queen of Annwyn. It contains information about a spell that is vital to the existence of Her Majesty’s realm. Due to its importance, Queen Morgaine wrote the spell in code, and entrusted the secret to her son and heir. This knowledge has been passed down through the generations. Unfortunately, Her Majesty’s noble father, King Orfran, died before he was able to instruct her in this matter.” Gaius’s voice was devoid of emotion. “This is all you need to know.”

  I’m pretty certain I need to know a damn sight more. However asking further questions was unwise. Lori’s gut instinct told her the regal disdain was just a wafer thin veneer over a whole lot of malice, and she had no wish to find out if her gut was right. And Tamsin thinks I might fall in love with her! Yet Tamsin and the other Silver Ravens were obviously besotted. Grandma was right—when it came to matters of the heart, there really was no accounting for taste.

  After the queen left, Lori pulled a stool from under the desk and unrolled the scroll. The parchment was covered in neat lines of runes. It was not the Roman alphabet, and there was not a chance in hell it was in English. Morgaine was Rianna’s great-great-whatever-granny. By the time you applied the thirty to one time ratio between worlds, Morgaine would have lived while the ancestors of the Anglo-Saxons were still talking proto-Germanic.

  “Gaius, do you know what language this is?”

  “No.” He did not glance at the scroll.

  A surge of annoyance flared. She had a challenging job, a zombie for an assistant, and a nasty feeling her life depended on the outcome.

  “Gaius, you’re supposed to help me,” she snapped. “That means putting a bit of effort into answering questions.”

  “I do not know for certain what language it is.”

  “Make a guess.”

  “Most likely, Queen Morgaine would have used Hyannish, the language of Annwyn.”

  Lori rested her forehead on her hand. “How can Queen Rianna expect me to decode the scroll when I don’t understand the language it’s written in?”

  “I will translate for you. We must strive to fulfil Her Majesty’s will. It is our duty.”

  Gaius’s deadpan voice and expression did not disguise a rebuke. His prominent Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. Lori froze, suddenly spotting what was missing. Gaius was the first human she had met in Annwyn who was not wearing an iron torc.

  Somebody was using magic to control him, and it required no guesswork to know who that somebody was. Was Rianna inside his head right now, spying on them? Or was Gaius like a robot on autopilot? She needed to find out more about fay magic, its limits and potential. But until she learned otherwise, it was safest to assume everything Gaius saw and heard would get back to the queen.

  A quill and inkpot sat on the table. Lori slid them towards Gaius. “Right. Sit down. First thing. I want you to write out the fay alphabet. Let me know which letters are vowels and which are consonants. Then make a list of letters that often go together, like T and H in English.”

  Maybe because he had direct orders to work with, Gaius was quicker to respond, but his movements were still stilted. What was the right word? Sleepwalker? Puppet? Zombie? It confirmed everything she suspected about Rianna. The fay queen was not to be trusted.

  Lori ran a hand through her hair. Maybe if she completed the decoding and got back to Earth she could arrange a rescue mission for Gaius and anyone else in his condition. Yeah, right. How would that work out, her walking into a police station, saying she needed troops to rescue magically controlled slaves from fairyland?

  One step at a time. First, she had to decode the scroll, otherwise there was a distinct chance she would end up like Gaius. Lori walked to the window and stared out, racking her brains. Did she have any clues to work with? Anything in the scrap of information Rianna had passed on? Could she make a guess at any likely words?

  Lori grinned. One word was obvious.

  “Gaius. When you’ve finished the alphabet, I want you to write the name of the queen who wrote the scroll—Morgan was it?” As in Morgan Le Fay?

  “Queen Morgaine.”

  “Okay. Put her name down.”

  If Queen Morgaine was anything like her descendant, her name was going to be on the scroll at least a dozen times.

  * * *

  One more good idea that did not work. Lori scrunched the sheet of paper into a ball and tossed it away. The previous fourteen hours had seen a lot of good ideas that did not work. Pages of notes littered the table. She rubbed her eyes. A headache grumbled at the top of her skull. The lighting did not help. Electricity was yet to reach Annwyn, and the twin oil lanterns hanging from the ceiling were completely inadequate, somehow managing to create more shadow than light.

  At her side, Gaius sat bolt upright on his stool, with his hands folded in his lap and his eyes fixed on the wall. His face was the same blank mask it had been all day. What was going on inside his head? He spoke only when asked a direct question, except for offering a mild rebuke if anything Lori said could be construed as criticism of Queen Rianna. He was every bit as quick as Tamsin to take the role of queen’s champion. He might be more pedantic and less emotional, but neither of them were able to accept any fault in Rianna. In Gaius’s case it was understandable. What was Tamsin’s excuse?

  Lori adjusted the set of the iron torc around her neck. She only had Tamsin’s word it was protecting her. Would she know if the queen was rifling through her thoughts at that moment? The headache had spread to Lori’s temples. She rubbed circles with her thumbs, trying to massage it away. If Rianna was rooting around inside her head, was it too much to hope the queen was getting a fair share of the pain? Lori pushed back from the desk and walked onto the balcony. Fresh air might help.

  The sun had set, though the last glow of sunset still lined the
horizon. Overhead, stars pricked the midnight blue sky. No moon had yet risen. Was there one in Annwyn? She could ask.

  Lori leaned against the balustrade and looked down. The study was not the only room to take advantage of the sea view. Other balconies girdled the walls of the keep, some in darkness, others lit with candles. Far, far below, white surf was luminous in the night as waves slapped against the rocks. The hiss and rumble of the sea had been a constant undercurrent while she worked.

  A whole day had passed, a month on Earth. How convincing was Widget’s false trail? It need not be that good, as far as Mum and Dad were concerned. They would be thrilled to think she had dropped everything and set off to see the world—as if she would willingly go a week without internet access! Adam knew her better, but Nathan would be there to downplay any doubts. How long before anyone contacted the police? Not that it would do the slightest bit of good.

  Soft laughter rippled through the night. Lori moved to the other side of the balcony. One floor below was the largest terrace of all, lit by a dozen lanterns. More candles decorated a small round table. Their light reflected off a bottle and wine glasses. Queen Rianna lounged beside the table on a cushioned bench. Her head was turned, looking back into the room behind her. She laughed again and spoke to someone inside.

  Lori had no wish to discover how a charge of spying on the queen would turn out. She could not understand a word said, but there was no guarantee it would work as a defence. She was about to return to the study, but before she could move away, Tamsin joined Rianna on the terrace.

  Tamsin’s loose white shirt rippled in the breeze off the sea as she uncorked the bottle, and poured a glass for Rianna. The relaxed body language made it clear they were not sticking to the strict roles of mistress and servant. Lori was unsurprised when Tamsin poured a second glass for herself, then strolled across the balcony with it and rested her elbow on the handrail, looking out over the dark sea. All the while, she and Rianna engaged in easy conversation.

  What were they saying? Lori wanted to know, but at the same time could tell there was nothing worthwhile to be learned. The tone made it obvious Rianna and Tamsin were swapping idle gossip—who had said what about whom, or their shared opinion of someone’s latest lover. Lori did not need to understand the words to be sure nothing more important was being discussed.

  Rianna joined Tamsin at the railing, standing close. Very close. Her voice dropped low. Lori could not have overheard, regardless of the language. Rianna placed a forefinger on the back of Tamsin’s hand—a small gesture, and one Lori had no trouble decoding. They were lovers. Bloody typical.

  Lori spun away and went back into the study. No need to see more. Now she understood what prompted Tamsin’s devotion. The rest of the Silver Ravens were equally smitten, but there was nothing to rule out the same underlying reason. Just how widely was Rianna putting herself about?

  Gaius had not moved. Too late to worry about what he might report to the queen. She rested her hands on the table and stared at the strewn pages of notes. She needed new ideas, and they were not going to come that evening. Her headache had faded, but she could sense it ready to make a comeback. Everything could wait until tomorrow, after a decent night’s sleep.

  “I’m finished for today. I need to rest.”

  “Queen Rianna requires that you complete your task as quickly as possible. Idleness is not permitted.” Another of Gaius’s reprimands.

  “I know. But I can’t think when I’m tired. Staying here will only waste time. No matter how long I stare at the scroll I won’t achieve anything more tonight. And if I don’t get enough sleep, I’ll be no better tomorrow.”

  “You will return tomorrow, after breakfast.” His monotone could have been either a question or a command.

  “Of course.”

  “I will arrange an escort to the middle bailey for you.”

  “Thank you.” Lori suspected the guide was to stop her snooping around the keep rather than save her any distress from getting lost.

  Gaius rang a silver handbell by the door, the same bell he had used to summon boggarts to bring food and drink during the day. He then returned the scroll to the cabinet, locked the door with the key Rianna had given him that morning, and waited in silence until a boggart arrived.

  “Tali a deri lo venire es.” He switched to English. “Accompany your guide.”

  “I’ll see you here tomorrow then. Good night.”

  Gaius gave no response. Lori had not expected one.

  As she retraced the route through the keep and inner bailey, Lori tried to picture Gaius laughing, relaxing with friends or a lover. All that was gone. Everything had been stripped from him—his mind, his humanity, his soul, all stolen. Rianna had turned a man into a brain-dead puppet. How could anyone willingly serve her? It meant that whatever integrity Tamsin possessed could be bought with a bit of bedroom action—which would set a new record for shameless harlotry in the sad line-up of Lori’s previous girlfriends. Not as if there was much chance of Tamsin wanting to join the list.

  Nope. No way. Isn’t going to happen.

  Anyway, two-timing the queen was not a clever move. Little imagination was needed to work out how that would end.

  Chapter Eight

  When Lori awoke the next morning, weak light was squeezing through gaps on the shutters and ghosting across the ceiling of her room. She stumbled out of bed and cracked open the wooden boards an inch to peek out. Bands of pink and purple clouds lined the horizon. The middle bailey was indistinct in the gloom.

  Dawn represented quite a novelty. The time mismatch between Earth and Annwyn must be to blame, the fairyland equivalent of jet lag. Lori never had been a morning person—one more source of conflict between her and Jess, who could not understand why she refused to go for a jog before breakfast each day.

  Breakfast. Lori shifted angle a little. The doors of the mess hall were closed and nobody was going in or out. How long before the boggarts started serving? The only food brought to the study the previous day had been bread and cheese, with an apple thrown in as a token gesture towards her five a day. Even a repeat of the fish stew would be welcome. Of course, tea was rapidly working its way towards the top of the list of things she could not live without, but she was out of luck there.

  Her wristwatch lay on the table. Unexpectedly, the time said 8:25 a.m. Lori took it back to the light of the window to make sure. However, the seconds were advancing, so it was not a dead battery. Annwyn days must be longer than those on Earth.

  Would the bathhouse be fired up and running this early? She was certainly in need of a wash. Her suitcase from the car and a couple of bags were stacked in a corner of her room. She had noticed them when she came in the night before, but had been too exhausted to investigate.

  A note lay on top.

  Hi Pet,

  I picked out the stuff that looked most useful. Let me know if there’s anything else you’d like, and I’ll send word to Jimmo to put it in the next delivery from the Halfway House.

  I hacked the password on your laptop, and reset it to StrawberryCrabcakes. Ditto your email. Sorry about the intrusion, but I had to set a false trail. Your parents think you’re working on geo-imaging with the Antarctic Survey, and your friends think you’re doing something very top secret with NASA in Area 51.

  Cheers,

  Widget

  P.S. I saw you worked on games. That’s dead awesome. We have to chat.

  Fine. Just fine. Lori bit back a few other choice words. But she had to credit Widget with choosing stories that would be believed, mainly because they were what the respective audiences would like to think was true. Also both stories precluded any unexpected visitors dropping by.

  She opened her suitcase. Her laptop was there, lying on top of her clothes. Had Widget left the battery fully charged? Not that it really mattered. There was no point asking the boggarts for the castle Wi-Fi code.

  Lori picked out fresh clothes, going for comfy and familiar. The ancient ragged jean
s and baggy T-shirt would not impress anyone, but she was no longer in job interview mode. The old clothes came with a set of reassuring memories, a link with Earth. She even had her lucky pound coin in the small pocket at the front—lucky in that it was there whenever she wanted a supermarket trolley. She rolled the clean clothes into a bundle around her toiletry bag and left her room.

  She stopped at the gatehouse to the outer bailey for directions. “Which way is the bathhouse?”

  The Iron Raven looked at her in confusion, then entered into a muttered debate with his comrade. “What you want?” English was evidently not his first language.

  “The bathhouse.” Would doing a mime help?

  “There. Fire.” He waved his hand in an upward gesture.

  “Smoke?” Lori made a guess.

  “Yes. Smoke.”

  “Thanks.”

  Lori set off happily. Not only was the trail of smoke an easy signpost, it carried the promise of hot water. Soon she reached the building with twin barrel roofs. Wisps of steam and the sound of voices drifted through the open doorway. She was not the only one taking an early bath.

  A boggart shoved what was possibly a towel at her and burbled something.

  “Um…I don’t understand.” Was it mime time now?

  “Follow me. I’ll show you where to go.” A woman looking like an Asian Olympic champion shot-putter had entered the baths behind her—presumably one of the Iron Ravens.

  “Thanks.” Lori followed her to a large room. A bench ran around the outside.

  “Leave your clothes there. Remember the number they’re under. The hot pool’s through there, and the cold plunge is on the right.”

  Hazy expectations of what the bathhouse might be like ran smack into memories of visiting the Roman remains at Bath—communal nude bathing. But her options were this or cold water and the washbasin in her room. Soap was probably out, but she could wash her hair later, and deodorant was in her bag. Regardless, she would end up cleaner and less smelly than she was at the moment, and, thankfully, it appeared the bathhouse was segregated into male and female sides.