Street Fair

by Cook, Jeffrey

  "Hardly. That's Inwar's big job. After what Balor did to his arm, he definitely feels strongly about the Fomoire: left his people completely to affiliate with the Seelie full time, so he could stand watch. He did it on his own for a while, but eventually, more and more people from An Teach Deiridh would come fill in for him, so he could go see Orlaith and help coordinate things. His folk may be cold, but they know war."

  "I kind of got that impression," Megan said, "So that's what happened to his arm?"

  "And how Orlaith got her scars," Cassia said, nodding. "Just a glance. Inwar shielded her, but she still got burned, and he lost his shield arm."

  Megan shuddered: the story with the lake and the giant becoming a lot more real, with a visual reference to what the eye could do. "So, it's like cold iron or something?"

  Cassia shook her head. "Burning acid, but it works the same. He could kill faeries or even gods with it. And the wounds never fully heal, no matter how much magic they put into it."

  At Ashling's urging, they started walking again, moving along the shore. Megan finally broke the silence again. "So, what happens if the ones in this somehow-weirder lake ever get out? I mean, much as my dad might like it, it's not winter year-round, right?"

  "He invests a lot of magic in making sure that doesn't happen. So do the 'fishing trippers,'" Lani explained, "Keeping the lake sealed is the one thing the Seelie and Unseelie can completely agree on. Inwar has soldiers from both sides helping him, and the area is off-limits to everyone else."

  "He actually has Unseelie organized enough to handle that? And they don't, you know, try to just break it a little to see what happens?"

  "The Fomoire are that serious. No one wants to see that happen. Besides, you've met Peadar's gang. As Unseelie go, they're pretty organized."

  "Wait, Peadar? '49ers cap? Desperate need for orthodontia? Tried to kill me?"

  "That one," Lani agreed, "He might have even been the one who started referring to the guard shifts as 'going to the lake on a fishing trip.' It certainly wasn't Inwar."

  Megan nodded, glancing around. "Okay, that sort of makes sense. I guess he'd be a good guy to have on your side if something did get loose."

  They turned away from the eye-lake at last and headed into the hills. "Where are we going, anyway?"

  "A little more scouting,” Ashling said, her voice unnervingly even. “He hasn't skulked around any of the major landmarks yet, but I want to check all the highlights where he might be crawling around. And then we head for what's next. Probably the tombs.”

  Lani nodded. “Probably, if he's a treasure hunter. Might have been his whole point of being at the market.”

  “Might,” Ashling said flatly.

  "What kind of treasure?" Megan asked.

  Lani sighed. "The kind you get by grave-robbing really, really old stuff.”

  “What, is the acid-eye giant buried here?”

  “No. The Fomoire rallied and pulled their own tricks enough that the body was never found after the battle. But it wasn't just Balor here. He had a whole army with him. All of his officers died here, and they were buried, hidden and warded. Sealing them away with all of their stuff was part of the temporary truce—very temporary. We have to make sure they're still secure."

  "Or what?"

  "Even a mortal with ancient spell books—or enchanted cold iron—that knows about Faerie could do a lot of harm."

  "Oh," Megan said, "That kind of or what."

  The walk took them deep into the hills, before Ashling urged them to stop near what appeared to be a pile of rocks.

  “What's that?” Megan asked.

  “From what I've heard,” Lani explained, “Warded rocks were piled around Balor's battle standard, since no one of Faerie could touch it.”

  Ashling's face, however, had managed to grow even colder and more masklike. “But...” she said.

  Cassia wasn't as grim, but she was clearly not happy. “Yeah, I know. I've been here with Ric. Pile's all wrong.” One leather boot struck out and kicked the pile, which collapsed with nothing inside it. “Our potential burglar's gotten started.”

  “Then I'd suggest we do the same,” Justin spoke up. “Beginning with right near the tear on the map, the closest of the little Xs.”

  Chapter 10: Barrow

  “This is just another weird hill,” Megan said as they arrived at their destination.

  Regaining some small amount of her usual animation, Ashling got off the crow and danced. As she did, an illusion fell away, revealing an ancient stone door into the hillside. "Come on.”

  It took Cassia and Justin working together to move the heavy door, and both were out of breath by the time it moved. Cassia grinned at the young knight. "Told you I'd help you work up a sweat."

  Justin blushed. Megan found herself wondering why Lani didn't, as she often had, jump to defend her other-brother from the usual Cassia harassment. She wondered if she should do it, or if that would give a wrong impression, or how wrong it would be.

  Justin seemed about to respond himself when Ashling darted inside. Everyone else scrambled after her. Megan watched as Jude leapt from her pocket as a kitten and hit the interior floor as a leopard.

  "I thought that 'bigger on the inside' thing was just for science fiction," Megan said as they wound through passageways.

  As Justin carefully slid ahead of Megan, Cassia muttered, “Can't be much further.”

  It wasn't true. The passages continued to twist and turn, and, had they not been following Ashling's lead—and the magical light the pixie managed to summon up around herself—Megan was sure it would have been far worse. As it was, Ashling was still distractible even in her somewhat grimmer mood, urging the Count into flitting in back and forth patterns. With such erratic illumination in the dark maze, Justin drew the Sword of Light from its scabbard.

  Megan saw occasional signs of previous intruders—mostly bits of bone or tarnished bits of metal now—as well as signs of traps that had been triggered. Lani was happy to assure her that grave robbers got what they deserved. Megan was unsure how much of it was indignation at the crime, and how much was her best friend cheering for the remnants of ancient technology vs. the intruders.

  “How is anything here supposed to know we're not grave robbers?” Megan asked.

  The first sign of something changing was the hair standing up on the back of Megan's neck, followed by an involuntary shudder. Lani apparently felt it too. “Anyone else thi—”

  Had Cassia moved any slower, that first, quick movement might have ended in tragedy. The rushing figure's blade swung towards the group. One second, it was just empty hallway with what looked like an opening into a wider space or room a short way ahead, and then he was there. Cassia got her sword out in time to turn the blade, but not parry it entirely, and the blunt side of the sword grazed Lani's forehead, knocking her back into Megan, setting both girls tumbling to the floor.

  From there, Megan was able to get some idea of the figure. He was dressed head to toe in ancient armor, mostly leathers and bronze plates, which showed signs of rot and tarnish about the edges but somehow held together even so. A helmet covered his head completely, but green light showed out through the eye-holes. A jet-black cloak swallowed the light around it, helping hide his exact motions and causing him to blend into the darkness. His sword showed none of the wear of his armor, but the blade was odd, made of black metal, of uneven construction. Megan's first impression was that it was simply badly made, before recalling the gates back in Findias, and comments on how hard it was to make sharp blades of unfired iron, but some found it worth the effort anyway—the figure had a fae-killing weapon.

  Cassia, true to her nature, went on the offensive, attacking with rapid, short blows, initially driving the armored figure backwards. Not a blow got through, his sword turning each one aside, but it bought them some space. Maxwell followed his mistress, trying to flank the creature, to either get in quick swipes, or create an opening for Cassia. Justin was slightly slower, and the
hallway was cramped, but as soon as he saw an opening, he rushed to try to help. Jude crouched against the wall, not fleeing, but apparently unable to move.

  Panicked thoughts sprang unbidden to Megan's mind. She caught herself pulling herself backwards down the hall, away from the fight and her friends, and forced herself to stop. The thoughts remained, though, and the chill in the air kept growing worse. Cassia, Maxwell, and Justin were holding their own, but barely. It took all three of them to keep him from going back on offense, and both Cassia and Maxwell seemed hesitant, only Justin showing no hesitation in standing up to the figure in the ancient armor. Lani was still lying on the floor, starting to move again, but slowly.

  That's when she noticed the tugging on her sleeve, and Ashling's voice cut through the haze. "Megan, singing. Singing, now!"

  Her thoughts were crawling, fighting the instinct to escape to break through to the surface. "Huh?"

  "First rule of bardic magic!" Ashling called.

  Ashling's original words on the topic snuck through. "Providing excellent protection for your horse?" That didn't seem to apply.

  "That's barding. Totally different! You need to help them." Ashling seemed focused. Under the pixie, the Count seemed to be Actively Not Panicking the same way Megan was.

  "Help them?"

  "Cassia's magic isn't working. He's got cold iron. You can't affect him, but you can help them."

  "Inspiration." Megan remembered that part now. She also remembered how the bard song had helped clear away Peadar's paralyzing terror effect. It wasn't all coming naturally yet, and especially not as naturally as playing with the winds and leaves, but she knew how to do it. Her mind seized on a march, rousing, with lots of highs, and she started to sing. The cobwebs started to clear from her mind, and the song got louder as it did.

  Justin had never faltered, likely protected from whatever magic was happening by the Sword of Light in his hand, but Megan could see the effect on the others. Jude left the wall, moving opposite his brother to further divide the figure's attention. Cassia and Maxwell fought more confidently, Maxwell lunging in, taking chances with the sword, backing off only at the last moment, while Cassia resumed the rapid blows, finally getting a hit in on one shoulder.

  They collectively drove the figure back into the open chamber, and Megan, singing louder and louder, managed to stand and follow closer, until she reached Lani, trying to keep up the song magic going while checking on her friend. Lani sat up, waving her off. Trusting that, Megan approached closer, careful to stay out of the way of the experienced fighters, while still helping them fight off whatever had been hitting their minds and hers.

  Once they were out of the crowded hallway, the numbers started to take a greater toll. First, as the figure reacted to Jude, Maxwell got a deep swipe in to one leg. The leather armor tore open, revealing bone beneath, even though the figure appeared to be filling out the armor just fine. Then Cassia's rain of blows impacting the sword put him off-balance, and Jude barreled into a leg, and the figure dropped to one knee. With Cassia keeping his sword occupied with her own, Justin finally got a clean opening, and the flaming sword separated the helmeted head from the neck, with a sudden bright flare of white light accompanying the swing.

  Lani, Megan, Ashling and the Count all entered the open chamber while the fighters caught their breath and tended to small wounds. The dusty room was neatly organized, aside from things upset by the moving fight, with two more suits of armor, numerous weapons, and sacks of treasure set about the area. A raised platform had been kept clean, with the surface showing recently disturbed dust. "What is this place?" Megan started, before adding, with a bit more urgency, "And what was that thing?"

  "Burial chamber for an officer." Cassia answered the first, not glancing up from tending to the cats.

  "And that was a wight." Ashling covered the second.

  "Okay, what's a wight?" Megan asked, quickly amending with, "Aside from really creepy. And please don't go into the paint store spiel. I already know ivory from eggshell."

  Ashling showed no signs of wandering off on a tangent, taking the skeletal figure, who still filled out the armor better than a skeleton seemed like it should be able to, deadly serious. "Undead."

  "So, that guy is some kind of, uhm, creepy-raising-the-dead guy?"

  "Not like zombies or vampires or anything. They don't need necromancers or George Romero bringing them back. Wights used to be legends in their time. Warriors, knights, sorcerers, bards, officers, all different. But all big time. The stories told about them have their own kind of magic, and that combines with some of the biggest badasses having the will to decide they're not entirely dead yet," Ashling explained, relatively reasonably for the pixie.

  Megan studied the helmet, then the body to which it had been connected. Ashling was still glowing, and Justin still had the sword out, but the light really did seem to falter more near the body—specifically, as Megan adjusted it, the black cloak. "So, is he actually dead this time?” she asked. “And with all of that, why would he just hang out down here if he was so badass?"

  Ashling rode the count up onto the platform, which Megan now figured was where the body was laid. Then the pixie continued. "Because not enough people remembered who this guy was. Undead need food too, but not, like, broccoli and ice cream. Zombies need necromancers helping, vampires need blood, and some of the Senate need the votes of their constituents. Wights are sort of like the popular high schoolers: they need their clique acknowledging their awesomeness. So, back in the day, this guy was famous. Then people forgot his name, and he went to sleep."

  Megan listened as she continued fidgeting with the ultra-black fabric. "So, did we disturb him and get him up, or..." As she looked to Ashling, she absently handed the cloak to Cassia, who was rummaging in her pack.

  Ashling shook her head. "That's mummies. Something had to give this guy a kick start."

  "Okay, so as long as talking about him won't bring him back, who was he? And what would do that? And, I guess, are there any more?"

  “I think a lot of those answers are over here,” Lani finally spoke up from where she was standing along one wall with Justin. Megan at first was distracted by something on Lani’s face—she must have been trying to treat the injury from the iron sword. Eventually, Megan remembered to listen.

  "Lots of inscriptions on this wall,” Lani was saying. “I’m guessing they wind around to some of the others, too.”

  "So what does it say?" Megan asked.

  "You'll have to ask Ashling. I don't read... whatever ancient language this is."

  Ashling and the Count fluttered over to Lani's shoulder, and the pixie started to read. "The Piercing Eye burns in the deep..."

  “Well, that's not ominous,” Megan said.

  Chapter 11: The Gray Lady

  “But the part about 'seven dead pallbearers, far from the corpse.' What does that mean?” Megan pondered aloud. “And if our now-headless guy's one of the seven, why are there only four Xs?”

  “We only have half a map,” Justin pointed out. “The next closest one is deeper in the swamp, with the footnote that we should watch for wisps."

  “Well,” Cassia said, “The swamp here is the Gray Lady's turf.”

  Ashling made a 'hmph' sound.

  “We should probably ask her about the place, then,” Justin said. “At least see if she's at home before crossing her territory.”

  “Heck no,” said Ashling.

  “Ashling,” Justin said, “This can't be the first time you've needed to deal with someone you can't stand. You've worked too much in a royal court.”

  Megan frowned. She wasn't really comfortable with the idea either. Her father's former Seneschal wasn't someone who inspired trust in anyone present. Still, Justin's approach to How It Is Done had sometimes come through for him in the past. She looked to Lani, who nodded, apparently deciding to back her Other Brother.

  “I guess we can try,” Megan said.

  Ashling frowned more.

&nb
sp; “Caw, caw.”

  “I guess you're right, Count,” the pixie said with a sniff. “If they're going, we need to keep an eye on them.” And she led the way into a more tree-dense section of the swamp. The ground sloughed further under their feet.

  Eventually, the steady flapping pace of the Count's wings changed as he hovered more in place.

  “There,” Ashling said. “But I'm not going to knock.”

  It took a moment for Megan to realize what she was looking at in the dusk light, given the construction. While many of the trees had wide root networks that rose, in places, above the water, these were exceptional: forming twisting walkways and a foundation. The trees that rose from them twisted and turned, just as dark, with all the reaching branches and hollows as elsewhere, but growing together as natural building materials, forming a grand, if foreboding palace rising out of the swamp. She had trouble imagining the kinds of sorcery that might have gone into building it—or rather getting the trees to grow and twist just so. "Wow... that's... kind of creepier than I'd imagined. Which is saying something."

  “Just wait,” Cassia said. “I've been here with Ric before. If she lets us in—big if—there's going to be what looks like a stick and a primitive hula hoop on the floor. Do not move those. There'll be a doll on the table. Don't mess with it.”

  “I don't mess with everything,” Megan said defensively. “But how do you know stuff is going to be on the floor or the table?”

  “You know how some grieving families leave a kid's room just the way he or she left it?”

  “Yeah...”

  “The Gray Lady's like that about the whole house. Even when she's moved, over the millennia, all the kid's stuff gets put in the exact same place.”

  Megan stepped up towards the door and knocked. There was no answer. She waited several moments, and knocked again. "Is anyone home? We could use some help."

  This time, she thought she saw a flicker of pale blue light, but the small viewing window in the door was above her eye level, more suited to the taller sidhe than most teen girls. She stood on her tiptoes, leaning against the door to try to get a better look. It was still not a perfect view, but she was more certain now that there was one of the will o’ wisps hovering near the door. That was still no proof but strongly suggested that the Gray Lady might be there. "Hey, I'm sorry to disturb you," she tried. "But this might be really important.”