He pushed open the first door and strode right in, not giving Jubilee time to knock or even introduce him. Inside, the room was dark and clammy and subtly oppressive. The Elven Prince slammed to a halt in spite of himself, and Jubilee moved quickly in beside him. Lee might be just a teenage Goth in the day world, but here her true nature was unleashed. Leanan-Sidhe was a dark Muse, from the Isle of Man. Inspiration for artists of the macabre and the mysterious, those who dreamed of her often produced powerful and magnificent work, only to burn out fast and die young. Leanan-Sidhe was a harsh mistress and a debilitating Muse, and everyone knew what she fed on.
The Elven Prince bowed stiffly to her, again almost in spite of himself. The Muse’s room was a dark cavern, with blood dripping slowly down the rough stone walls. Leanan-Sidhe reclined at her ease on the huge pulpy petals of a crimson rose, floating in a sea of tears. She was a dark presence, of overwhelming demeanor, more shadow than substance. Her ashen face floated in the darkness like a malignant moon on a very dark night. She had no eyes, only deep dark eye sockets, and her mouth was the color of dried blood. She smiled sweetly on Prince Airgedlamh, revealing rows of very sharp teeth, like a shark.
“Come on in, sweet prince, my very dear, and I’ll show you what dreams are made of.”
The Elven Prince wavered but stood firm. “Tempt me not, dark muse. . . .”
“But, darling,” said Leanan-Sidhe, “that’s what I do. . . .”
She laughed richly, and the Elven Prince couldn’t get out of the room fast enough. Jubilee smiled sweetly at Leanan-Sidhe, who dropped her a brief wink, and then she went back out into the hall. With the door safely shut again, Prince Airgedlamh quickly regained his composure and insisted on moving on to the next room. Jubilee nodded, and again Johnny was there waiting for them.
“Hello,” he said sadly. “I’m Johnny Jay, the voice of the suffering masses. Pop prince of show tunes. Simon Callow says I’m a genius.”
“I do not know you,” said Prince Airgedlamh.
Johnny Jay actually brightened up a little. “Really? Oh, that’s wonderful! Such a relief to meet someone who doesn’t want something from me. Even if it’s only an autograph.”
Prince Airgedlamh looked at Jubilee, who shrugged briefly. “Mortal stuff. He sings.”
“Yes,” said the Elven Prince. “I see the mark upon him. Send him to the Unseeli Court. The Fae have always had a fondness for human bards.”
“I think he’s got enough problems at the moment,” said Jubilee.
But the Elven Prince had already lost interest and turned away. Johnny nodded glumly and went back into his room. Prince Airgedlamh stopped at the top of the stairs and looked up at the attic, where loud shifting noises suggested something very large was trampling down its bedding.
“What is that? I can sense its age, but its true nature is hidden from me.”
“Oh, that’s just Grandfather Grendel,” said Jubilee. “He’s been up in that attic for centuries, according to the House records. My husband and I inherited him when we moved in. As long as we throw him some raw meat once in a while and a handful of sugar mice, he’s happy enough. Every now and again, he threatens to spin himself a cocoon and transmogrify into a whole new deity, but it hasn’t happened yet. I think he’s just bluffing. Of course it could just be a plea for attention.”
“Guests are supposed to be strictly temporary,” said the Elven Prince. “That is the point of a Guest, is it not?”
“Nothing in the rules,” Jubilee said blithely. “Besides, who knows what temporary means, with a lifespan like Grandfather Grendel’s?”
They went back down the stairs and had only just reached the bottom when two small hairy things came running down the hall, pursued by the bouncing ball. They stopped abruptly to stare at the Elven Prince and then snarled loudly at him. Huge mouths full of jagged teeth appeared in their fur.
“Vermin,” said Prince Airgedlamh. “I will have to make a note.”
“We are not in any way vermin!” snapped one of the hairy things. “We are scavengers! We keep the House free of pests. We’re only supposed to eat small things. . . .”
“But we are perfectly prepared to make an exception in your case!” finished the other. “No one bullies Jubilee while we’re around.”
“Want me to do something appalling to Prince Scumbag here?” said the ball, bouncing threateningly in place.
“Everything’s under control, thank you,” said Jubilee, in her best calm and soothing voice. “You boys run along.”
They did so, reluctantly. The Elven Prince did his best to pretend nothing had just happened. He sniffed coldly and looked down his long nose at Jubilee.
“I can see there is much here that will have to be done, to bring this House into line with all the relevant agreements. The gargoyles must be neutered, the moat must be dredged, and many of the old magics have been allowed to fade around the edges. They will all have to be renewed, with the appropriate blood sacrifices. Your garden is a disgrace, and where have all the mushrooms gone? This House has fallen far from what it should be, and much work will have to be done to put things to right. Appropriate payments will, of course, also have to be made.”
He bowed quickly to Jubilee, before she could stop him, and then he strode back through the House and was out the back door and across the wicker bridge, heading off into the night. Jubilee closed the door thoughtfully after him and then walked back down the hall.
“All right! That’s it! Everyone join me in the kitchen, right now! House meeting!”
In the kitchen, very soon afterward, Peter and Jubilee, Lee and Johnny sat around the table and looked at one another glumly. The radio was being quiet, thinking hard, trying to be useful. The fridge door had been left open, just in case Walter felt like contributing something useful. Up in the attic, Grandfather Grendel was being ominously silent.
“We can’t let this happen,” Peter said finally. “We just can’t! Scaffolding from the Council, blood sacrifices for the Unseeli Court, all kind of interior work to satisfy both sides . . . there’s bound to be an overlap! They couldn’t help but interfere with each other, and cause all kinds of conflicts. This House is supposed to link the two worlds, not bang their heads together.”
“It could mean the end of the House as a refuge,” said Jubilee. “If no one feels safe and secure here, if we can’t guarantee anonymity. . . . No more Sanctuary for anyone.”
“I can’t go back to the Isle of Man,” Lee said firmly. “I have had it up to here with being a Muse. I do all the hard work and the artists take all the credit! I never even get a dedication. . . . And they’re such a needy bunch! So clingy . . . All those bloody poets hanging around, demanding inspiration. . . . I haven’t had a decent holiday in centuries! I never wanted to be dark and morbid anyway. . . . I should have been a sylph, like Mother wanted. . . .”
“I know what you mean,” Johnny Jay said diffidently. “I won’t go back to London. I just won’t. Ever since I won that damned talent contest, the television people and the tabloids have been making my life a misery. I never wanted to be a national icon; I just wanted to sing and make people happy. The tabloids have been doorstopping all my family and friends, and anyone who ever spoke to me, looking for interesting stories; and when they don’t find any, they just make some up! I’ve never even been to Spearmint Rhino!”
“I am not leaving!” said Leanan-Sidhe. “I have claimed Sanctuary, and I know my rights! I demand that you protect me from this unwelcome outside interference!”
Peter looked at Jubilee. “The rules of the House say we have to give Guests Sanctuary. No one ever said we had to like them.”
“We can still give them a good slap,” said Jubilee.
“Can I watch?” said Johnny Jay, brightening up a little.
“We have to do something,” said Peter. “If the nature of the House is compromised, if the two worlds
can no longer be kept separate . . . Could that actually happen, princess?”
“I don’t think the matter has ever arisen before,” said Jubilee, frowning thoughtfully. “The House exists in a state of spiritual grace, of perfect balance between the two worlds of being. Shift that balance too far either way, and this House could cease to function. A new House would have to be created somewhere else, with new management. We would not be considered. We would have failed our duty. After all these centuries, we would be the first to fail the House. . . .”
“It hasn’t come to that yet, princess,” said Peter, laying one hand comfortingly over hers. “Can the House really be threatened so easily? I thought the House was created and protected by Higher Powers?”
“We’re supposed to solve our own problems,” said Jubilee. “That’s the job.”
“Cuthbert might not know what he’s doing,” said Lee, “but you can bet that bloody Elf does. He must understand the implications of what he’s saying.”
“Of course he does!” said Jubilee. “He knows exactly what he’s doing. Our usual avoidance fields didn’t just happen to fail, revealing us to the normal world at exactly the same time as the Unseeli Court decides to take an interest in us. This was planned. I think somebody targeted us, set this all in motion for a reason.”
“To destroy the House?” said Lee.
“Who would want to do that?” said Johnny Jay.
“Or . . . are they doing this to get at someone who thought they were safe, inside the House.” Lee scowled, and something of her darker persona was briefly present in the kitchen with them. They all shuddered briefly. Lee politely pretended not to notice. “I thought anyone who claimed Sanctuary here was entitled to full privacy and protection? If any of those demanding little poets have followed me here to make trouble . . .”
“Your safety in all things is guaranteed, for as long as you care to stay here,” Jubilee said coldly. “It isn’t always about you, you know. I think . . . this is all about me and Peter. It’s all about us.”
“Your family never was that keen on our marriage, princess,” Peter said carefully.
“It wasn’t their place to say anything,” said Jubilee. “It’s the tradition, that the House’s management should be a married couple, one from each world. I was happy to marry you and happy to come here; they should have been happy for me.”
“I was never happier than when you joined your life to mine,” said Peter. “You’re everything I ever wanted. The House was just a wonderful bonus. But . . . if our marriage is threatening the House . . . I’m here because I wanted to be part of something greater, something important. I won’t let that be threatened because of me. We can’t let the House be destroyed because of us, princess. Not when it’s in our power to save it.”
“It’s my family,” Jubilee said grimly. “Has to be. My bloody family. They’d be perfectly ready to see this House destroyed, just to have me back where they think I belong. Because they can’t bear to believe that they might be wrong about something. Maybe . . . If I was to go back, they might call this off. . . . But, no. No. . . . I could leave this House to protect it, but I couldn’t leave you, Peter. My love.”
“And they’d never accept me,” said Peter. “You know that. I’d have to agree to leave you, before they’d take you back.”
“Could you do that?” said Jubilee.
“The House is bigger than either of us,” said Peter. “We’ve always known that, princess. I could not love thee half so much. . . .”
“Loved I not honor more,” said Jubilee. “We both love this House, what it represents, and the freedoms it preserves.”
“That’s why we got the job,” said Peter. “Because we’d do anything to protect this place. And now, that’s being turned against us.”
“I could leave,” Lee said abruptly. “If I thought it would help. If only because you two clearly serve a Higher Power than me.”
“Same here,” said Johnny Jay.
“No!” Peter said flatly. “Either the House is Sanctuary for everyone, or it’s Sanctuary for no one. You mustn’t go, or everything we might do would be for nothing.”
“And we can’t go, either!” Jubilee slammed her hands down flat on the tabletop, her eyes alight with sudden understanding. “Because that’s what they want! They’re depending on our sense of duty and responsibility to outweigh our love for each other. That we’d be ready to break up, to preserve the House! I’m damned if I’ll let my arrogant bloody family win! There has to be a way. . . .”
“It’s not as though we’re defenseless,” said Lee, her blood-red mouth stretching wide, revealing far too many teeth for one mouth. “Let us lure them in here, and I will teach them all the horror that lurks in the dark.”
“Do you sing, O muse of psychologically challenged poets?” said Johnny. “Because I’ll wager good money that between us we could whip up a duet that would rattle the bones and trouble the soul of everyone who heard it, whatever world they came from.”
“We will chase them, we will chase them, we will eat them up with spoons!” chanted the small furry things in the doorway, while the ball bounced excitedly up and down between them.
“I could throw things at people,” Walter said diffidently from the fridge. “If they got close enough.”
There was a low steady rumbling, from up in the attic, as Grandfather Grendel stirred. When he spoke, his words hammered on the air like storm clouds slamming together.
“Let all the worlds tremble, if I must come forth again. There have been many powers worse than elves, and I have slaughtered and feasted on them all, in my time.”
“No!” Jubilee said sharply. “This House was created by the Greatest of Powers, to put an end to conflicts, to give hope and comfort to those who wanted only peace. If we defend the House with violence, we betray everything it stands for. There has to be another way.”
“There is.” Peter leaned forward across the table, taking both of Jubilee’s hands in his. “The House exists . . . because it is necessary. It was brought into being, and is protected by, Powers far greater than your damned family, princess. Even your people wouldn’t dare upset those Powers; so call their bluff! Tell them that if this House’s function is destroyed because of them, we’ll make sure everyone knows it’s all their fault! Tell them; it’s all about rendering unto Caesar. Let both sides perform whatever home improvements they feel necessary . . . as long as they don’t interfere with each other, or the running of the House! Or else! Your family might have raised arrogance to an art form, but even they’re not dumb enough to anger the Powers That Be.”
“Peter, my love, you’re brilliant!” said Jubilee. “I think this is why I love you most. Because you save me from my family.”
“Any time, princess,” said Peter.
The next day, bright and early, but not quite as early as the day before, there was a very polite knocking at the House’s front door. When Peter went to open it, he found Mr. Cuthbert standing there, looking very grim. He nodded stiffly to Peter, or at the very least, in Peter’s direction.
“It seems . . . there may have been a misunderstanding,” he said reluctantly. “It has been decided in Council that this residence is exempt from all Health and Safety regulations, and obligatory improvements. Because it is a Listed and Protected building. No changes can be made without express permission from on high.” Mr. Cuthbert glared impotently at Peter. “I should have known the likes of you would have friends in high places!”
“Oh yes,” said Peter. “Really. You have no idea.”
And he shut the door politely but very firmly in Mr. Cuthbert’s face.
Meanwhile, at the back door, Jubilee was speaking with the Elven Prince Airgedlamh of the Unseeli Court.
“So it was you,” she said.
“Yes,” said the Elven Prince. “All things have been put right; no improvements will be nec
essary. The Unseeli Court has withdrawn its interest in this place. The House will endure as it always has, and so will you and so will we.”
“Go back to the family,” said Jubilee. “Tell them I’m happy here.”
“Of course. But there are those of us who do miss you at Court,” said the Elven Prince. “Good-bye, Princess.”
I had the main idea for this story years ago: it was going to be a stage play about a house on the borderland, with doors to reality and fantasy and the people who found sanctuary there. But I could never find a story to suit it. Until now. I love the characters, and I keep meaning to go back to them.
Find Heaven and Hell in the Smallest Things
They threw me into Space and then dropped me into Hell, with just a dead woman’s voice to comfort me. They should have known better. They should have known what would happen.
We sat in two rows, facing one another. Twelve people. Yes, call us people, because we certainly weren’t men or women anymore. Twelve people from Old Earth, wearing the very latest hard suits. The new armor, built for strength and speed, cutting-edge science, and all the latest weapons. Along with a built-in AI to interface between the occupant and the armor . . . to speak soft soothing words to us, keep us human, and keep our minds off the perfect killing things we’d become. We sat in two rows, six hard suits staring at six hard suits, identical suits of faceless armor, except for the numbers One to Twelve stenciled on our chests. I was Twelve. Looking at the suit opposite me was like looking at myself. Gleaming steel in the shape of a man, with a smooth featureless helm where a face should be. We couldn’t look out, but it also meant the world couldn’t look in and see us; and for that, we were grateful. We don’t need faces. We see the world with new eyes, through the augmented senses of the hard suits.
We were all of us strapped in, very securely. To hold us steady. Or to keep us under strict restraint so we couldn’t hurt anyone. Including ourselves. Just in case we were to go crazy. It does happen. After all, no sane person would allow himself to be put in a hard suit. The armor keeps us alive. The armor makes us strong and powerful. The armor is our life support and our life sentence, a prison we can never leave.
Tales of the Hidden World Page 10
