Though it was autumn in Tir na n6g, here spring held sway. I could smell it in the air, could feel the warm and gentle caress of the breeze. It was balm to my sore, chapped face.
I looked about and saw a castle perched on a cliff above us. So much a part of the island it was that there was no telling where the castle began and the rock it sat upon ended. As I watched, lights appeared on the pathway below the castle. They bobbed and floated downward toward us.
Closer and closer they came, and we waited for them, silent and patient.
At last they appeared on the edge of the clearing, riming it in gold and silver light.
Such a congregation of the Sleagh Maith. It almost made me forget my own mission, so good was it to gaze upon them again. The sprites and sprig- gans, brownies and hags, boogies, leprechauns, gnomes, and goblins all clustered around, throwing their crooked shadows against the rocky cliff behind them.
I could hear their shrill cries and nasty whispers. They knew who I was even if there were those who would have it otherwise. There was but a moment for these impressions. They parted and a procession of elves appeared. Each was dressed in tight-fitting dun-colored leather garments. Some bad tattoos marking their arms and faces. Others had datajacks glistening in shaved skulls. I ignored them as they surrounded us.
I glanced over at Caimbeul. He was a bit paler than normal, but after the night we'd had so far, that was to be expected. He looked up at me and gave a little smile. I found myself smiling back, oddly happy at that moment.
"This is hardly a laughing matter," came a voice from beyond the edge of the faerie light. All the elves and faeries bowed down immediately. I squinted into the darkness. A ghost-like form moved forward. As it stepped into the ring of light, I saw that it was a woman. She was dressed in a white flowing gown. Her fiery hair was pulled back se- verely from her face, but left to cascade down her back almost to her heels. The brilliant blue eyes were unchanged. The skin as pale and white as milk.
Alachia.
Silence stretched out between us. I hadn't seen her in the flesh since 1941.
"So," she said at last. "You've come. And the hard way, too."
"Well, we can't all have the prerogatives of age. I wish to speak to Lady Brane Deign," I said. "She rules here now."
Alachia smiled. It was chilling.
"Power is a fluid thing," she said. "You'd do well to remember that."
Once that sort of remark from her would have frightened me. But that was far in the past. Now there was a larger threat at work. Not just to me, but to the survival of the world. And then, I was older now, too.
"Perhaps you should mind your own advice," I said. "You've let so much pass through your own hands."
"Caimbeul," she said brightly, ignoring my last remark. "How good it is to see you again. But really, you need to improve your choice of companions. You know what they say about the company you keep."
She slipped past me and took his arm, leading him away from me toward the castle.
"Do come, Aina," she called over her shoulder. "We mustn't keep Lady Brane waiting."
I watched her lead him into the night until all I saw was the white blur of her dress.
She opens her eyes. The world is upside-down. No, it's her perspective that's off. But isn't that al- ways the way of it?
Sitting up, she sees that she's been lying on the ground. The fall leaves covering her rustle and slide away, revealing her naked body. How she came to be here in this wood she doesn't remember. But she thinks she should know.
Then comes the pain.
It burns and stings like a thousand hornets. Her skin is on fire and she cannot stop it. As she looks on, small, round welts appear on her flesh. Sharp points burst through the welts, puckering the skin.
Thorns.
13
No mortal being could have traversed the path to Lady Brane Deigh's castle. But then, it wasn't designed for mortals. The Sleagh Meath loved anything that might confuse or baffle mortals and so If took great delight in the corkscrew turns, disappear- ing paths, and other annoying tricks to fool the unwary traveler.
But I had seen all these games before. The Seelie Court was but another incarnation of something much older and more sinister. How many of them re- membered, or even knew, the full story?
Politics was a tricky business, and I'd done my best to stay out of it for most of my life. But now it seemed I had no choice. I was the only one who ap- peared to be willing to take the chance. No, I was the only one willing to see the threat of the Enemy for what it was-the ruination of the world.
I had to grasp hold of this thought because all my old fears came back to me in this place. Once I fool- ishly thought that power would protect me from harm. How I discovered the error of that belief is another tale.
For now, I kept up with Alachia's lead. She glided over the rocks as though they weren't there. Each turn was taken with a casual nonchalance, and all the while I could hear her keeping up a steady banter with Caimbeul.
I knew their history was a long one, and I won- dered if she knew how much my life had been en- twined with his. And how far back it extended. Part of me hoped she didn't know, relishing the secret. And a part wanted her to know. Wanted her to know that even when she wielded so much power that most of my people trembled before her, I had won a small victory over her.
But there was no more time to wonder over such childish things-we had reached the gate of the castle.
Alachia waved and the gates swung silently in- ward. The courtyard was bathed in the light from thousands of floating will-o'-the-wisps. They fluttered around us, rising and falling with the breeze. It was like walking through a rain of stars.
Then we were moving up the wide, white, marble steps leading to the great doors. Made of oak and tall as a two-story house, they were banded in brass in deference to the faerie hatred of iron. As the doors opened, a radiance spilled forth. I stepped into the brilliance.
The great hall of the castle dwarfed any I had seen before or since. This was no mean feat given what I've seen in my time. I could feel the magical ener- gies flowing through this place. The magic to pull Hy-Breasail from the sea, to create this castle upon it, to gather the members of faerie who still re- mained here on Earth, and to pull back those who had left for other planes. An impressive feat indeed.
At the far end of the hall, I saw a group of elves. Alachia moved toward them with her usual single- mindedness. As she approached, the group parted and allowed her to pass. I squeezed in just as they closed ranks again.
Standing at the center of all this attention was a tall elf wearing a black leather breast plate over a long white dress. Her fine hair was bobbed off short, one side shorn away so short I could see the fragile shape of her skull beneath. Her skin was the color of amber and I saw that her eyes were blue, transparent and glittering as ice. Though she was only as tall as Alachia, there emanated from her a power that I found compelling. The same sort of power that Alachia had once wielded so many lives ago.
She glanced at Alachia, then at Caimbeui, and finally, at me.
"Lady Brane, may I present Aina Sluage," said Caimbeui. Alachia shot him a hateful look, but didn't say anything.
I stepped forward, but didn't bow. Though I knew she was made as I, she was only a child compared to me. Just as I was a child compared to Alachia. And even if she did hold sway over this court, she did so at the sufferance of myself and the other Elders. So, instead of bowing, I offered her my hand. For a mo- ment, I thought she might not take it, but then her smooth, cool hand was in mine. I felt an odd shock, and then our eyes met.
Yes, she was fit to rule, I saw. Though I had abstained from participating in the new politics be- tween the Tirs, I was glad to know that there was someone strong enough to deal with whatever was to come. The only question was: Could I convince her that the threat was real?
"I have heard your name," Lady Brane said. Her voice was sweet as summer wine. "When I was younger I almost thought you were a ghos
t, invented to scare children."
So that was to be the way of it. Well, I'd handled worse in my time,.
She released my hand, then beckoned me to her side as she turned to leave the group. I heard the murmuring of the others as we passed, but I ignored it. Alachia's face was even paler than normal and I saw her eyes narrow as we passed. Good, I thought. Let her worry a bit. I suspected the nature of the poison she had managed to spread about me while I was gone worrying about more important matters.
"You've created quite a stir," she said. "Calling up the Hunt's horses. A most impressive feat. And, from what I understand, only you and Harlequin were present."
"That is correct," I said. "There are those of us… who are of an age… who have found such things to be… within our grasp." I looked around for Caimbeui, surprised to see him hanging back. It was so unlike him.
She stared ahead, leading me toward the back of the hall. I caught the scent of her perfume. A com- plex scent: grasses, sandalwood, and a few other notes of which I couldn't be certain. Elusive.
"And why did you call the Chasse Artu?" she asked.
"I have been away a long time," I said. "I needed to find the Court."
"Yes," she replied. "I thought as much. No other way would have found us so quickly. We have been careful for a while now. But you come to us with the toss of a spell so powerful it would take half my court to cast it. I see some of what I've heard is true."
We had come to the back half of the hall. A great feast was laid out. Row after row of tables were cov- ered with white linen, fine gold eating utensils, and bone china. Garlands of flowers were swagged onto the tablecloths. Most of the tables were filled with members of the Sleagh Meath and Awakened elves.
Invisible hands served and took away platters of food and jugs of wine.
Lady Brane led me to a raised table in the center of all the others. She took a seat and motioned me to take mine next to her. As I sat down, I noticed Caimbeui finding a place down at Alachia's end of the table and I wondered how best to approach the reason for my visit. I didn't know precisely what lies Alachia had spread about me. My cup was filled with wine, and food appeared on my plate. I didn't eat. Couldn't.
Lady Brane, however, was having no such prob- lems. She drank heavily from her cup and tucked away the feast like she'd been starving for a year. All this was done with a grace and delicacy that made it look like the most delightful thing I'd ever witnessed.
"You aren't eating," she said with a little frown. "Is the food not to your liking?"
I pushed a pea with my fork and shook my head. "No, thank you. I'm not hungry. Lady Brane," I said. "I am not a threat to the Seelie Court, nor to you."
She turned and looked at me, her expression un- readable.
"And what makes you think I find you threaten- ing?" she asked.
"I just assumed that you had been told… things," I said. Good, Aina, I thought, stick your foot in it right off.
She picked up a pear and bit into it. I could smell the sweet aroma of it. It took her a few moments to finish off the pear. Daintily, she dabbed at her mouth with a napkin before speaking again.
"Yes," she said. "I have heard stories. From sev- eral sources. You have not endeared yourself to many of the Elders. But there are other, more pow- erful, voices who seem to value you. So, I decided I should see for myself what sort of creature you are."
"What sort of creature?" I said. "That hardly sounds impartial. Unlike Alachia, the politics of men have little interest for me. But your court deals with matters that do concern me. Magic and mysticism have long been intertwined for our people."
She shrugged. "Perhaps some of what I've heard does concern me," she said. "I am proud of being an elf and I am proud of our Tir. It has come to my at- tention that you have chosen others over your own kind in past disputes."
Alachia's fine Italian hand at work, no doubt.
"Yes," I said. "There was a time when I had to make that painful choice. But there were reasons for my choice and I was not the only one who made that decision. I, too, am proud of my people. But we are not perfect, nor are we always right. I am not blindly devoted to every act. And those matters have no bearing on the dangers before us now."
Lady Brane took a sip from her glass, then swirled the contents around as she stared into them.
"Yes," she said at last. "These dangers. How is it you know of them and the rest of us do not? Are you so special? So powerful?"
Yes, I wanted to say. Yes, / am special. I haven't forgotten why I am here. I haven't forgotten the past. If that makes me special, then so be it. As for power, how could I have survived for almost eight thousand years without it? But of course I said none of this. She would discover in her own time what a curse immortality was.
"Perhaps it would be easier if we were to discuss this in a less public place," I said. "There are some things that should only be spoken of in private."
"You're right," she said. "I was hoping only to come to a quick resolution of this matter."
"That is my most fervent wish," I said.
"Very well," she said. "Come with me. You, Har- lequin, Alachia, and I will discuss this matter."
I rose, and without even a backward glance at Caimbeui, I followed her from the hall. It had been a long time since I'd had to call upon the good graces of my fellow elves. I suspected the reception to what I was about to say would be chilly indeed.
She opens her eyes. Darkness suffocates her, pushing against her like an old lover. Putting her hands up, she feels the smoothness of satin. She pushes, but there is resistance. A hardness under the soft fabric.
A spell. There is light.
This is no kaer. This is a coffin.
And she's been buried alive in it.
14
Lady Brane motioned for me to sit. The room was an odd mixture of magic, antiques, and hardware. Though I dislike the technology that Caimbeui so adores, even I was impressed with the array of hyper-edged toys. Any shadowrunner would have been drooling at the chance to get his hands on Lady Deigh's high-tech toys.
I didn't sit. Instead I wandered about the room, looking at the collection of elven artifacts. Encased in a glass box was a long silver sword whose hasp was plated in gold and set with cabochon emeralds and rubies. So, this was where the Sword of Nuadha had finally come to rest. I thought it had been lost long ago.
Next to it was a plain cup roughly carved from hom. It should have seemed prosaic, sitting there next to the glory of the sword, but it was the other way round. The Sword of Nuadha seemed coarse and obvious.
I'd just stepped over to a lovely painting of Caimbeui in some costume I didn't recognize when he and Alachia came into the room. Lady Brane smiled at her and she smiled back. My heart sank when I saw this. Already I was at a disadvantage. I could only hope that Caimbeui would provide a strong argument for my position.
"Now that we're all here," began Lady Brane. "Shouldn't we start?"
"You are the only Elders?" I asked, more than a little shocked.
"No, of course not," said Lady Brane. "But the others have agreed to let me handle this situation as I see fit. They have deferred to Lady Alachia and me."
I glanced over at Caimbeui, who kept his face blank. And I wondered if he knew this would be the situation going in.
"Very well," I said. "It's really quite simple. The Horrors have returned."
Alachia let out a silvery laugh that I just knew would enchant any man who heard it and which set my teeth on edge.
"You are still so melodramatic, Aina," she said. "Good heavens. It is far too early for them to have returned."
When I answered and my voice was calm, it surprised me. For as long as I could remember, Alachia had the power to anger me with her flip comments.
"I realize that you are far older than I," I said. "But my experience with what you so blithely refer to as the Enemy is hardly inconsiderable. Even you would have to admit that."
She gave a small nod of her head, the best
ac- knowledgment I could hope for.
"Caimbeui came to me the other day and told me of his recent experience with them."
Alachia and Lady Brane looked at him expect- antly, and he preened a bit under the attention. What an ego. But he did manage to tell them about Thayla and the bridge from the astral planes and how he had stopped them.
"Well," said Alachia. "There you have it. Thayla's there protected by one of those hirelings, and we're all quite safe."
"Are you completely mad?" I asked, losing my temper at last. "Hasn't anything he's said sunk in? Oh, I expected him to be full of beer and sausages. He's always had this messiah complex, but you know better. If they don't get through that way, they'll find another. They're coming back now be- cause they can. Look at what happened in Maui."
And then it dawned on me. I almost hit myself for being such a fool. Of course, she knew the dangers. But she didn't care. I thought back over our history together and realized that Alachia had been at her most powerful during the times when we faced the Enemy. Her dark knowledge had been as much a bane as help. But it hadn't mattered because we would do anything to survive. And I knew what she wanted was for that time to come again. She was tired of waiting.
But perhaps I could reach Lady Brane.
"Lady Brane," I began, "I know you have heard terrible stories about me. Some are even true. But that isn't what is important here. What is important is that I'm telling the truth. I know better than most the evil these creatures will unleash should they come through before we are prepared. They will lay waste the world and everything in it. And this time we aren't prepared to stop them. We haven't the power."
"You seem powerful enough," said Lady Brane. "You call down the Hunt, or part of it, at least. You live beyond the rule of either Tir. You consort with the Great Worms as though you were one of them instead of one of us."
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