FSF, April-May 2009

by Spilogale Authors

  "Who?"

  Thomas's smile slowly vanished. The light in Thomas's eyes began to die. “Why ... why ... It's Tybalt. You must remember. That summer we found the well of the nine worlds. When I held up the key, and Penny said the rhyme she'd found in the old book of Professor Penkirk's. One brave soul to hold the key, remember the rhyme? The rainbow came in the mist above the well, and we followed it to Vidblain, and we saw the ships of Lemmergeir sailing in the tide below the Tall White Tower of Noss. We saw the swan ships sailing from the Western Sea, from the Summer Country. You remember, Richard, you must. It was you who found the shining Sword trapped in the roots of the Cursed Black Oak in the middle of Gloomshadow Forest, where none of the Fair Folk could go. The badger's family helped you. None of the servants of the Winter King could draw it; it burned their hands. That's how we found out that old woman was an ice maiden in disguise. It was all just as the rhyme in Professor Penkirk's book foretold."

  "Good old Professor Penkirk. Haven't thought on him in years. Queer old bird, I must say. I'm not so sure I'd get along with him so well nowadays, though. Filling all our heads with notions and rubbish. Well. We were children then, I suppose. No great harm done. I suppose kooky old Penkirk's dead by now. Nice seeing you again, though, Thomas, I must say. Now, if you could get this silly cat off my papers, I do have a frightfully important meeting at two. That's what happens when you barge in without an appointment, you know. We can't all just do as we like...."

  "But this is Tybalt, son of Carbonel...."

  "That old scrawny black cat we played with as kids? It's been dead for years, I'm sure. Cats don't live so long as that, you know...."

  "Richard! Listen! He's come to call us back,” Thomas said in a low, quiet voice. “Tybalt, I mean. He carries a message from the Emperor of the Uttermost West, the King of the Summer Land. We helped them before. Don't you remember at all? The Black Mirror of the Winter King had trapped the light from the sword. Susan shattered it with the note from the harp of Finn Finbarra, and we freed the nightingale, and followed her song to the Forever Tree, which was still green and whole under the ice. The fire from the sword melted the ice; we found the Garland Crown of good prince Hal hanging on the highest branch, just where Tybalt had said. This is Tybalt. Tybalt: say something!"

  Richard stirred uneasily in his chair. He said in a tight voice; “Look here, Thomas. Those fairytale daydreams we all had were all very right and nice as children. But we're grown now. Those were just games we played. Those ideals, you know, good triumphant over evil. Just silly children's games. None of it could be real. If that was real, none of this would be real,” he said, gesturing abruptly toward the walls of his office, the window, the honking traffic crowding the street below. “Nothing we did as adults would mean anything. We all have to make compromises. No one can blame us. But all that was just play...."

  Thomas leaned forward across the desk and grabbed Richard's hand. “You know it was real. Why are you pretending it wasn't?"

  "I wish I could believe...,” Richard whispered.

  "We don't have to be trapped,” Thomas said, letting go of the hand and leaning back slightly. “We don't have to live this way."

  Richard was silent, eyes cast down.

  Thomas spoke with quiet urgency: “Tybalt told me the Winter King's men have entered this world. They have Atlendor's tarn-cape, and mortal eyes cannot see them. Tybalt brought me to the Wellspring of Wisdom in a cavern below the roots of an ash tree, where a hundred knights in armor of gold were sleeping on stone biers. He made me bathe my eyes in the spring; it burned and stung, and for a day, I thought I was blind. But when my blindness passed, I could see the fairy creatures."

  Thomas continued, “There was one, oh God! There was one of them right there in the town at Alderley Edge; a schoolteacher. She was actually one of the willow women, the daughters of the Winter King. The women are all fair and beautiful to see from the front, but are hollow and rotten from behind, like masks; they can only be discovered by someone who looks at them from every angle. I crouched outside the window and looked into the classroom; one of the willow women was the teacher there. The parents had sent their children off to school, all trusting the teachers and not suspecting a thing. The willow woman drew the sigils and Runes of Ice upon the blackboard, and made the children chant the Worm Song to ensorcell them. She had chains made out of gossamer and was telling the children to bind themselves, so the children could not speak or think except at her command. No one but I could see the chains. I asked Tybalt how to cut them; he said they were woven out of women's beards and mountain roots and fish's breath."

  "There's no such thing,” said Richard, a strange look on his face.

  "Exactly. That's why they couldn't be broken. You can't cut something that doesn't exist, can you? That's why we need the sword once more. The light from the sword can shatter the spell; no one can remove those chains except the children themselves; and they can't remove them till they can see them, and they can't see them without the light. Where is the Sword Reforged now, Richard? It was one of the things we took out of Vidblain. I remember you had it hidden under the boards in your grandmother's attic up until when you went away to boarding school. Where is it now?"

  "I gave it to the local museum in Easterwick, the town where Penny used to live. Don't look at me that way! It was just an old rusted sword we once played with. All that rubbish about ‘no ignoble hand could draw it’ was just childhood silliness."

  "When did you sell it?” Thomas voice was cold and severe.

  "How dare you talk to me in that tone! I've half a mind to call security and have you tossed out on your ear. You've no right to judge me. No right at all. You're quite mad, you know."

  "It was after you came home from when you were expelled from boarding school, wasn't it, Richard? I was away at school myself then, and you never did tell me why they kicked you out. I heard some very ugly rumors, Richard, about a girl you got in trouble...."

  Richard made as if to slap him. Thomas, however, had spent six weeks on the road, or in the woods, and his body had grown more hardy and strong than most inactive men of his age. He caught Richard's hand easily, and pinned it against the desk, so that Richard was drawn forward at an awkward angle.

  With his left hand, Richard grabbed Thomas's wrist, and tried to pry his grip away. There was no sound save for the hissing of their breath as the two strained silently, almost without motion.

  With his other hand, Thomas brought a squeeze tube out from his breast pocket. He flicked the cap free with his thumb. The desk shivered as Richard tugged, trying to escape, but Thomas held him pinned. The tube had a narrow mouth like an eyedropper. Thomas leaned back his head and squeezed a drop of fluid, one into each eye, never letting go of Richard's right hand. Thomas shivered and blinked.

  When Thomas leaned his head forward, Richard shuddered and made a hoarse noise. Thomas's pupils had dilated dramatically; the black part of his eye seemed enormous, all-seeing.

  With his thumbs he forced open Richard's clenched fist. “The sword of light has burned you here. Your palm is crossed with scars."

  "There's nothing wrong with my hand! Let me go!"

  "You sold the sword when you found it would not allow your hand to touch it. You must wish you could banish your memory as easily."

  He released Richard's hand, and rubbed his hand on his pants, as if to wipe away a stain. “I should be more surprised, if I had not seen a sight more terrible than the one I told to you. The willow maidens have been here for many years. When I walked the streets of London, I saw many people who had locked themselves in the gossamer chains. I don't know who is more pathetic; them, or you.” Thomas meticulously picked up his little tube and replaced the tiny cap.

  "Get out,” Richard croaked. “Wait! Take me with you...."

  "Come along then.” Thomas stood and extended his hands. The black cat sprang into his arms, and then swarmed lithely up to Thomas's shoulder. Tybalt crouched sphinxlike and regarded Richard w
ith unblinking eyes as cold as hammered gold.

  Richard just quivered and blinked. “Get out. You're crazy. I'm a man of prominence in business. A success. Go chase your children's fantasies. They'll put you in a nuthouse. A nuthouse."

  "Good-bye, Richard. And I am truly sorry."

  * * * *

  3. Sally

  Thomas searched long for Sarah Truell. She had married a serviceman named Delacourt, changing her last name, and the Royal Navy had moved them from one post to another. New Year had come and gone, and February was approaching, before he found her.

  She lived in a little row house outside the Navy yards in Dover, with the tiniest strip of garden before the front door. Her house was the only one sanded and painted, bright and cheerful, along the whole row: her house alone had Christmas lights. She had put a white birdbath, surrounded by neat flowerbeds, filled now with snow, in the center of her tiny lawn. Her neighbors had rubbish poking through the white hillocks of their yards, and an abandoned hulk of an auto was rusting, coated with icicles, in the street nearby.

  Inside it was breathlessly hot. Her rooms were thronged with bookshelves and hung with many potted plants. Every table had some fragile vase or piece of bric-a-brac, small delicate statues or intricately carven music boxes, of which she had a collection. The place was crowded, as if being squeezed together by converging walls, but prim and neatly kept.

  Thomas was surprised to see how old Sarah seemed, how cautious and slow her movements were. She was not yet forty, younger than Thomas, yet her hair had gone all gray, and she wore it in a bun knotted neatly on her head. She listened carefully to the story Thomas told, but was distracted several times by watching Tybalt climb among the bookshelves, afraid he would knock down a crystal piece or tiny lamp.

  "What? Go out on an adventure? Like when we were children? By star, by stone, by shining spear, I call upon the gathered hosts of light. ... Like that? It would be charming. Those days were so sweet. But I cannot help you. Who knows what might happen if I did?"

  "Richard pretended not to remember anything. He said it was a game. How can you stand idle, knowing what our dread foe is? Have you forgotten?"

  "Oh, I remember everything,” she said wistfully. “I still at times recall the perfume of the flowers when they bloomed, after the Winter King and all his troops were beaten in the Battle of Glad Valley.

  "The snow all vanished in a torrent of clear water, streaming down the hillsides, cleaning all the vile things left by the white wolves and trolls away, and where the knights of the Summer Land strode singing, flowers sprang up and barren trees burst suddenly to green, like a thousand springtimes rolled up in one. The floods washed all the bad things into the sea, but any house which had hung a wreath or pine branch on its door was safe, and not even their eaves were damp."

  She continued: “I remember the feast on the fields of Caer Linden, and the tree women came out of the forests to dance, and the faerie folk danced in the air overhead, held up by the joy of their singing alone. The tables were laid with white linens, and groaned under the baskets of fruits and fair foods which all the country people brought to give thanks for the return of their Prince. The coronation was all splendor; Prince Hal was crowned with the Garland Crown, and all the flowers bloomed. The elf king, Finbarra, he danced with me, did I tell you? and drew me up high in the air, and the crystal floor of heaven rang underfoot, and I heard the stars singing their hymns in the night."

  Sarah's eyes had filled with tears at the memory. She said, “Excuse me,” and took a pressed hankie out of her skirt pocket, and daubed at her eyes. “We never should have come back to this world. It's so dirty. And there's nothing you can do about any of it. Everything is so ... complicated. Over there, next to the seashell is a harp I bought in Wales. Don't touch it! It's very fragile. I have it to remind me of the harp of Finbarra, which I carried on our quest to the Hall of Silence, in Icelock. Do you remember how sweetly the nightingale sang, when we let her go free from her cage? And I remember how Tybalt tried to eat her at first. Poof! You nasty thing!” Now she laughed and waved her hankie at Tybalt.

  Tybalt looked at her disdainfully, and began to lick the fur of his shoulder and wash.

  "But I'm worried,” she whispered, eyes wide. “The police were here, asking after you. Richard phoned too, and he was angry, frantic. What have you done?"

  Thomas was seated uncomfortably on a chair slightly too small for him. His arms had become muscled with the exertions of his adventures and escapes over the last two months; his face was darkened by weather and wind. He now wore a beard. He was afraid to move his arms, for fear of knocking over the bottles or blown glass objets d'art on the little tables to either side of him.

  "We have been called to battle, once again, against our ancient foe,” Thomas said, “And to walk beneath the banners of the Sons of Light. The Champion of the Dark is here, in England, and he covets all this world for his prize. I dare not face him till his secret name is known to me. No strength of hand can overcome him; his name is written in elf-light ink in Penny's old book. I have not found Penny's heirs as yet, and what is written in elf-writing cannot be read except by the light of the Sword Reforged. I have found the little country museum where the sword is kept, but the agents of the Shadow were there before me.

  "They cannot touch the sword, and dared not move it. But the museum-keeper's soul has been consumed by the vampires, and a vampire has entered his flesh, and inhabits him, usurping his form and name, and spun charms around the museum.

  "I attempted to enter, but the enchantments snared me on the threshold; I was dazzled and fell frothing. A man who found me took me to a hospital.

  "The doctors diagnosed me as epileptic, and their medicines cured me. But some of the police are agents of the enemy, and they found my name out while I was there. I escaped by climbing down from the window; Tybalt had taught me a charm to allow me to land on my feet without hurt, no matter how high the fall.

  "For several days I fled and hid. Finally I was betrayed to the police. But I was not to have a trial. The enemy transported me in an aeroplane to take me to the East, where their powers are stronger, and where they have countries whose evil rulers worship the Darkness almost openly.

  "Their Champion came in to where I was chained in the hold of the aeroplane, to gloat at and to mock at me. He occupied the body of Lord Wodenhouse, the minister of the Admiralty, and wore his uniform. But there was nothing inside his body, and he had no light in his eyes.

  "He boasted to torment me, telling me how my defense of England had already failed. He told me of secret meetings of the Admiralty counsel at midnight at the ruins of an ancient pre-Roman temple, and named the horrible oaths taken to apparitions in the tombs.

  "In a cold, regal voice, he told about members of Parliament, those who could not be made to swear, or who made some attempt to tell of what they had seen in the tombs. He told how his night hags and wraith maidens would cling to the walls outside their windows, and sing to the sleeping men in voices only they could hear. Sometimes wives found their husband's stiff and empty bodies in their bed the next morning. But, before any great stir could be made, the enchanted men were taken and replaced, one by one, by some stranger who looked and spoke and acted like just as they had done.

  "Lord Wodenhouse said his greatest support in the halls of power were from those Lords and ministers who formerly had opposed his rise to power. These men were never seen to eat or drink in public, rarely laughed, and never smiled when they did laugh.

  "'They take their sustenance from other things,’ he told me then, ‘Things men never had denied unto my kind; praise and smiles and flattery are sufficient to sustain us. But our hunger, human, our hunger never dies.’ And he promised me I should perish, after torture, on the altar he had erected to his Master.

  "But I used the silver key to unlock the chains which kept me in the aeroplane's hold. There were none of the enemy around me; the Knight of Shadows feared for his men to learn his nature. The b
ody he inhabited was weak; easily I took him by the throat. But he was unafraid, croaking I had no weapon which could harm him, for, if his body were destroyed, he would flee into other flesh.

  "I squeezed his throat until he coughed and dared him to flee the flesh he wore. The Knight of Shadows spat at and reviled me, but would not answer. By this, I knew he needed the face and form, the fame and power, of Lord Wodenhouse to do his evil work in England.

  "The marines came into the cabin then, weapons ready, wearing the mark of the Evil Eye on their brows. But I flung myself from the door of the plane, and the suction whirled the enemy, screaming, out into the night sky with me. And I trusted to Tybalt's spell, fell, and did not die. A group of Normandy farmers saw me plunge from the sky and land on my feet, unharmed, in the middle of an open field. And they seemed to understand my plight, almost as if they knew I served the Elf King; they hid me from the police, and on Christmas Eve they feasted with me.

  "With their help, I was smuggled back into England. I have only now come from Dover docks."

  Sarah listened, wide-eyed. “It is too terrible. They can't be here. It can't happen here."

  He said, “It has grown worse even in the short time I was away in France; or perhaps they gather in cities, far away from open fields. I have the second sight; many of the men on the docks—the shore patrol, the police, the Navy men—I saw the Unseen Mark upon their foreheads, or in their palms. They have been branded with the Sign of the Evil Eye. They have sworn fealty to the Enemy; I fear Her Majesty's government is corrupt, spell-caught, and overcome. All men and women of good will must join together to fight this foe; each of us must do our utmost."

  "I cannot help you,” Sarah said quietly. She had a look of fear and horror in her eyes.

  "You must. Listen; I will tell you what we face."

  "Don't tell me."

  "In the sewers under London I saw the filthy pool filled with vampires. They were lying, weak and helpless in the mire, chanting spells. Their crooked limbs were thin as reeds; their bellies were swollen and famished. Their songs called up to the streets above and drew a line of people down the dripping stairs."