Blue Moon Rising

by Simon R. Green

  “I’m so glad,” said the Seneschal. “Anything else you’d like to know?”

  “Yes,” said Julia dryly. “If this Curtana is as powerful as everyone makes out, how is it that no one’s tried to find the Old Armoury before, and take the sword for themselves?”

  “Over the years, a great many people have tried.”

  “So what happened to them?”

  “We don’t know. None of them has ever come back.”

  “Terrific,” said Julia. “I notice you didn’t tell me any of this before we set out.”

  “I thought you knew,” said the Seneschal.

  “Assuming we get to the Old Armoury,” said Julia, “a prospect that seems increasingly unlikely the more I think about it, I take it you will be able to recognise the Curtana when you see it?”

  The Seneschal stared into the darkness of the right-hand corridor, and smiled grimly. “The Curtana is a short sword, not more than three foot in length, and it has no point. Going back several hundred years, it used to be called the Sword of Mercy. It was presented to each Forest King at his coronation, as a symbol for justice tempered by compassion. And then James the Seventh came to the throne. He took the Curtana and set a touchstone within its hilt, a sorcerous black gem that enslaved the minds of all who beheld it. Legend has it that the Demon Prince himself gave King James the stone, but records of that time are scarce. It was a time of murder and madness, in which the Curtana became the Sword of Compulsion; a symbol of tyranny. No one has drawn that blade since James was overthrown, but even sheathed, it’s said that the sword has an aura of blood and death and terror. I’ve never seen the Curtana, Julia, but I don’t think I’ll have any problem recognising it.”

  The Seneschal turned away and glared at the waiting guards, who were peering into the darkness ahead and hefting their swords warily. “And now, if you’ve run out of questions for the time being, Princess, I think we should press on, before those Neanderthals start carving their initials into the woodwork.”

  He paused just long enough for each guardsman to light his lantern, and then strode confidently forward into the gloom of the right-hand corridor. Damn the man, thought Julia as she and the guards hurried to catch up with the Seneschal. There’s a lot to be said for bravery and heroism, but this is getting out of hand. First he tells me horror stories about previous search parties that never came back, and then he goes marching off into the dark without even bothering to send in a few scouts first. Julia scowled, and shook her head. I should never have let them take away my sword …

  The party’s footsteps echoed hollowly back from the dust-covered walls, but even that small sound carried in the quiet. The guards huddled together and held their lanterns high, but still the darkness pressed hungrily against the sparse pool of light the lanterns cast. In the constant gloom it was hard to judge distances, and Julia began to wonder if the corridor had an end, or if the damn thing just went on for ever. She looked back the way she’d come, but the original junction was already lost to the darkness. There was a faint scurrying sound on the edge of her hearing, but no matter how hard she concentrated, she couldn’t seem to place where it was coming from. Probably rats, she thought, hefting her dagger. After thirty-two years, they probably think they own the place.

  “How can anyone lose a whole Wing?” she asked the Seneschal, more for the comfort of the sound of her voice then because she cared about the answer.

  “It seems one of the Astrologer’s spells went wrong,” said the Seneschal absent-mindedly, while studying a map in the light of a guardsman’s lantern. “No one’s quite sure exactly what he was up to, and since he’s still too embarrassed to talk about it, the odds are we’ll never find out, but apparently there was a massive explosion, and then in the space of a few moments all the doors and corridors that used to lead to the South Wing suddenly … didn’t. Those people who were in the Wing were able to get out, but nobody could get in. Legend has it that there were a few people unaccounted for, who never got out.”

  “What a horrible thought,” said Julia, shivering despite herself.

  “If you don’t want to know the answers, don’t ask the questions,” said the Seneschal testily. “Now quiet, please, I’m trying to concentrate.”

  Julia swallowed an angry retort, and the Seneschal went back to frowning over his map. The air grew steadily more stifling and oppressive as the party pressed on into the darkness, and Julia glared about her as the faint scuffling noises seemed to hover at the edge of the lamplight. The guards heard it too, and one by one they drew their swords. It’s only a few rats, Julia told herself sternly, but her imagination conjured up images of people watching from the darkness. Men and women, grown strange and crazy in their isolation. Children, who’d never known any other world than the South Wing. Julia took a firm grip on her dagger. Even rats can be dangerous, she thought defensively.

  And then Julia stumbled and almost fell as the floor lurched violently and dropped away beneath her. The corridor walls seemed to recede into the distance and then return, sweeping in and out in the space of a moment. Her sense of left and right and up and down reversed itself and then spun her dizzily round and round before snapping back to normal. A sudden darkness swallowed the lanternlight, and she could hear voices crying out in fear and anger, but only faintly, as if from a great distance. She felt she had to keep moving, but every step seemed harder than the one before, and her muscles ached with the effort it took to press on. A hideous pressure built within and around her, trying to force her back, but Julia wouldn’t give in. That wasn’t her way. The pressure reached a peak, but Julia could feel there were people in the darkness with her, helping her to fight back. She drew on their strength, and they drew on hers, and together they threw themselves forward. And then the light came back, and the world was steady again.

  Julia sank on to her haunches and breathed harshly as her head slowly cleared. She was exhausted and wringing with sweat, as though she’d been running for hours on end, but when she glanced around she found she was still in the same dark corridor. The only light came from a single lantern, held by a guard crouching beside her who looked almost as bad as she felt. Julia frowned suddenly, and looked back the way she’d come. The Seneschal was leaning weakly against a wall, glowering at one of his maps, but there was no trace of the other eleven guards.

  “What the hell happened?” demanded Julia, climbing shakily to her feet after waving away the guard’s proffered hand, “and where are the other guards?”

  “The South Wing is trapped inside some kind of barrier,” said the Seneschal thoughtfully, as he carefully refolded his map and tucked it into his coat pocket. “Presumably set up when the Astrologer’s spell backfired.” He glanced down the corridor, but the impenetrable dark gave nothing away. The Seneschal sniffed, and turned his back on it. “The other guards must still be on the other side of the barrier. Typical. Damn guards are never around when they’re needed.”

  Julia fought down an impulse to grab the Seneschal by the shoulders and shake some sense into him, and smiled at him reasonably. “Sir Seneschal, we can’t just leave them there …”

  “Oh, they’ll be safe enough, we can pick them up on our way back. It’s their own fault, anyway. We broke through that barrier because we refused to be beaten, and because at the end we worked together. The other guards weren’t up to that. A pity, but never mind. We’ve made it into the South Wing, and that’s all that matters. The first people in thirty-two years … Well, come on. There’s no point in standing about here, there’s work to be done.”

  And with that, the Seneschal grabbed the lantern from the guard’s hand and stalked off down the corridor without even a backward glance, leaving Julia and the guard to hurry after him. Julia studied the guard covertly as they followed the Seneschal deeper into the South Wing. He was short and stocky, with a compact muscular frame and heavily muscled arms. All in all, he looked rather like a giant who’d been cut off at the knees. He couldn’t have been much more than f
orty, but there was a certain grimness to his face that made him seem a lot older. His broad, heavily boned features were capped by close-cropped hair of so light a blond as to be nearly white, and there was a wary watchfulness to his eyes that Julia found reassuring. Whatever happened, this guard wasn’t the kind to be caught unawares.

  “My name’s Bodeen,” he said suddenly. “In case you were wondering.”

  “I hadn’t realised I was staring,” said Julia.

  “You weren’t,” he assured her, “but there’s not much I don’t notice.”

  “Keep that attitude,” said Julia, “and we may all get out of this alive.”

  They both chuckled quietly, but there was more tension than humour in the sound. The Seneschal stopped, gazed thoughtfully at a side turning, and then plunged into it. Julia and Bodeen followed. The Seneschal led them through a baffling series of twists and turns, down corridors and up stairways, in and out of cobwebbed doors and passages, until the Princess had lost all sense of time and direction. She began to feel strangely disorientated, as though she was standing still and everything else was moving around her.

  Bodeen padded silently at her side like a cat on the prowl, his eyes constantly searching for possible dangers. Anywhere else, Julia would have found such behaviour intensely irritating, but ever since she’d entered the South Wing she’d had the feeling someone was watching and waiting in the dark beyond the lantern’s light. No matter where she looked, or how quickly she turned her head, she never saw anyone, but still the feeling persisted, gnawing unmercifully at her nerves until she could have screamed from sheer frustration. She clutched her daggerhilt until her knuckles ached, and cursed herself for a fool for ever having volunteered to join the Seneschal’s party. She glared at his unresponsive back, and then had to pull up short to avoid crashing into it as he came to yet another sudden halt. He stood still a moment, his head tilted back like a hound searching the air for an elusive scent, and then he slowly lowered his head and turned to face her.

  “Something’s wrong,” he said quietly.

  “How do you mean?” asked Julia, unwilling to voice her own fears aloud, in case they sounded ridiculous.

  “I’m not sure.” The Seneschal looked about him, and then shivered suddenly. “Whatever spell the Astrologer attempted all those years ago, it must have been a damn sight more powerful than he was willing to admit. It’s still here, echoing in the wood and stone, trembling on the air.”

  “You mean we’re in danger here?” asked Bodeen, raising his sword warily.

  “Yes. No. I don’t know!” The Seneschal frowned unhappily at Bodeen and Julia, as though expecting them to come up with an answer, and then turned his back on them. “We’re wasting time. The Treasury isn’t far. Let’s get on.” He communed briefly with his inner sense, and then strode confidently down a side corridor, leaving the guard and the Princess to hasten after him or be left behind in the dark.

  The silence bothered Julia more than anything, and not just because it reminded her of her time in the Darkwood. The endless quiet seemed to smother every sound, as though the silent wing resented any disturbing of its peace. Bodeen methodically swept the darkness with his gaze, checking every door and passageway they passed, but there was never any sign to show the party was being watched or followed. And yet, in some strange way, it was the very absence of any sign or sound that convinced Julia they were not alone. All her instincts screamed to her of danger, near and deadly, and she knew with a deep inner certainty that something evil watched and waited in the darkness beyond the light. A blind panic welled up within her and she crushed it ruthlessly. She’d be scared later, when she had the time.

  The corridor grew suddenly narrower, the walls crowding in out of the dark. The Seneschal’s lantern shed a dull yellow glow over faded tapestries and portraits of men and women long dead. He stopped suddenly before a closed, ornately carved door, and frowned thoughtfully. All at once, Julia felt a presence close at hand, something dark and dangerous and horribly familiar. She shot a glance at Bodeen, who was staring back the way they’d come. He hefted his sword with casual competence, but didn’t seem particularly worried. Julia glared at the closed door, and shuddered despite herself. There was something awful on the other side of that door, she could feel it in her bones. She licked her dry lips, and hefted her dagger.

  “Are you all right?” asked Bodeen quietly.

  “I’m fine,” said Julia, shortly. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this place, that’s all.”

  Bodeen nodded unsmilingly. “It’s just the dark. Don’t let it throw you.”

  “It’s not just that! Don’t you ever listen to your instincts?”

  “All the time. But mostly I trust my eyes and ears, and so far I haven’t seen or heard one damn thing to suggest there’s anyone in this Wing except us, and a few spiders.”

  Julia shook her head stubbornly. “There’s something in here with us. And we’re getting closer to it all the time.”

  “If you two have quite finished,” said the Seneschal acidly, “you might possibly be interested to learn that we’re almost at the end of our journey. Beyond this door lies the South Tower, and beyond that lies the main entrance to the Treasury.”

  Julia frowned. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure!”

  “Then why have you kept us waiting all this time?”

  “Because the door doesn’t feel right!” snapped the Seneschal disgustedly. “I know this door leads to the South Tower, but… I keep getting the feeling that it doesn’t!”

  “Are you saying we’re lost?” asked Julia, her heart sinking.

  “Of course we’re not lost! I’m just not entirely sure where we are.”

  “Terrific,” said Bodeen.

  The Seneschal glared at the door, and then reached cautiously for the handle. Julia tensed, and held her dagger out before her. The Seneschal glanced quickly at Julia and Bodeen, and then eased the door open a crack. Bright light flared round the edges of the door, throwing back the darkness. Julia and the Seneschal fell back, startled by the sudden glare, and Bodeen moved quickly forward to stand between them and the door. He waited a moment while his eyes adjusted to the new light, and then gave the door a quick push with his foot. It swung slowly open, and Bodeen whistled softly as bright daylight flooded into the corridor.

  “Come and take a look,” he said slowly. “You’re not going to believe this …”

  Julia glared about her warily, before moving over to join the Seneschal at Bodeen’s side. Her sense of imminent danger had faded to a vague unease, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling they were being watched. Nerves, she told herself angrily, and looked through the door. She blinked dazedly into the light for a moment, and then realised she was looking out into an endless sky. Clouds floated before her, soft and wet and puffy, so close she could almost reach out and touch them. She looked up, and then gasped as her stomach lurched. Far above her, a hundred feet and more, lay the ground. The view was upside down. Julia closed her eyes, and waited for her stomach to settle before looking again. Heights didn’t usually bother her, but the up-ended view’s casual defiance of the natural order of things disturbed her deeply.

  “Interesting,” she said finally, forcing herself to look up at the ground.

  “Yes, isn’t it,” said the Seneschal happily, and Julia was disgusted to note that not only was he looking up and down with no sign of distress, he was actually smiling while he did it. “It’s a view from the South Tower, Princess, or at least from where the South Tower used to be. If you look down, or rather up, you can see the moat quite clearly. Fascinating. Absolutely fascinating. It’s not just an illusion, you know. Somehow, within this doorway, space itself has been inverted. I can feel it most distinctly. I suppose if someone were to step through this door, they’d fall up, rather than down.”

  “After you,” said Julia, and the Seneschal chuckled. Bodeen stared up at the ground, frowning.

  “If the Tower’s been mi
ssing all this time,” said Julia slowly, “why hasn’t anyone noticed it before? It should have been obvious from the outside.”

  “Actually, no,” said the Seneschal, still studying the view. “The Castle’s exterior is mainly illusion.”

  “At least now we know what happened to the other parties,” said Bodeen suddenly, and Julia and the Seneschal stepped carefully back from the door before turning to look at him.

  “Obvious when you think about it,” said the guard calmly, still staring out into the sunshine. “Like you, sir Seneschal, they must have decided to enter the Treasury through the South Tower. It was the main entrance, after all. Unfortunately, their trackers weren’t in your league. They had no way of knowing this door had become a death trap. So, blinded by the light, they just walked right in and fell to their deaths.”

  “But… someone would have found the bodies,” protested Julia.

  Bodeen shrugged, and turned away from the door. “Like as not they ended up in the moat, or near it. And the moat monster’s always hungry.”

  “We can’t be sure all the parties came this way,” said the Seneschal. “And even if they did, I can’t believe none of them would have survived the trap.”

  Bodeen smiled grimly. “Maybe there are other traps we haven’t found yet.”

  For a long moment the three of them just stared at each other, and then the Seneschal shrugged, and turned away to stare through the doorway.

  “All right,” said Julia, “where do we go now? We can’t get to the Treasury this way.”

  “Actually, I rather think we can,” said the Seneschal. “I’ve just had an idea.”

  Julia looked at Bodeen. “Can’t you just feel your heart sinking?” Bodeen nodded solemnly.

  “The South Tower may be missing,” said the Seneschal, “but the door that leads to the Treasury is still there. I can see it, just a little further along what is now the outer wall. Even more to the point, there’s a stairway that connects these two doors, built on to the wall.”

  “A stairway,” said Julia. “Is it intact?”