The other Faery women in the company stood by jealously as the handmaidens pleasured Gwyndion with their skilled mouths and tongues. When he finally ejaculated he failed to observe them hastily gathering his seed into a small golden bag. Drained and exhausted, he slumped forward as the three attendants exited slowly through the cheering Faery throng, with the exception of Old Patricia, who continued to dye the Faery clothes with a bored expression on her face, as if such sights were commonplace in the Hollow Hills. The Winskis, however, were already somersaulting, and composing songs, and Jig Boy was seated at his desk, writing up the event he had just witnessed.
The three Hags held the golden bag aloft triumphantly.
*
Straining against the restrictive maja web, Samma attempted desperately to reach her beloved master. Her heart was breaking at having to witness how easily he had fallen under the Faeries’ Glamour. What else could explain his eager, wanton reaction to the three Hags who stroked him with their fetid, wrinkled hands? Now they had extracted his precious seed from him! Samma was only too aware of the potency of the magic that could be raised against Gwyndion with his own semen. She mewed piteously, hoping to rouse Gwyndion from the enchantment he had fallen under, but her efforts were only rewarded with an angry poke with a spear by a watcher Faery. She retreated as far as she could from the needle-sharp point. Feigning sleep, Samma rested with her head on her paws but her mind raced frantically. There must be a way.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Diomonna smiled when the Hags entered her quarters holding the mojo bag out to her. Her kitten sat purring contentedly on her lap. Jinji was typical of the Faery animals, similar to a Bluite cat in that her fur was white and fluffy, but wildly different in that she had red ears and three red eyes. Diomonna’s long purple painted nails stroked Jinji tenderly and her stolen rings flashed against the kitten’s snowy back.
‘Give the magic bag to me!’ she cried, her hand reaching for it greedily.
The Hags hesitated and glanced at each other. It was difficult to refuse the Faery Queen, after all, they were on her territory, but the sperm that they had extracted contained potent magic for them.
‘Black Annis gave specific instructions we were to deliver the Webx’s seed personally.’ The Hag who dared to speak had been the first maiden to place her mouth to Gwyndion’s organ. Diomonna’s eyes widened. Her gaze was child-like and without guile, but the Hags could sense the menace beneath her innocent stare.
‘I, Diomonna, Faery Queen, am about to fly to Black Annis. In person I will deliver the seed. And you will not object, Hag. Am I heard? Hiss, claw.’
The Hags hesitated and then reluctantly handed the mojo bag over. Diomonna dismissed them curtly. When they had departed her quarters, her pink and mauve wings shook with excitement. She opened the mojo bag to examine and smell the sperm. Little giggles erupted from her dainty mouth, and she lifted some of the sperm to her lips on a fingertip and tasted it carefully on her tongue. She nodded, pleased at the sensation. Then, taking an identical mojo bag that contained the sperm of an insolent Bogie who had been guilty of belittling Diomonna through careless gossip, she hastily boarded a ragwort stem. The Faery Queen could have used her wings to fly to the appointment with Black Annis, but she preferred to make an entrance mounted grandly on her chosen vehicle. Rising into the invigorating scented air of Eronth, she began her journey.
*
The Faery Queen’s red hair streamed like a wild tail behind her as she flew balanced astride her ragwort chariot. She travelled so fast she seemed to be but a sudden dash of mauve and pink, a fleeting burst of iridescent sunbeam.
Over Faia village she flew, and she spat down onto the gaily coloured cottages, laughing to herself. She was fully aware that the Faiaites were no friends of the Imomm. No doubt they were influenced by that cursed Bluite Mary. The Bluite Priestess had even attempted to ban the seven-yearly practice of tithing Bluite children to Hades. (At this further proof of betrayal from the Faiaites, Diomonna always chose to ignore the fact that she too had hated the inconvenient practice.) Indeed, since the Bluite bitch had taken rule it was not unusual to see pentagrams and pigs’ heads outside Faia doors, desperate attempts to keep all pilfering Faeries out. To the Faeries’ dismay, who needed to replenish their dwindling supply of Faerykind, all small Faia children now had miniature bells and St John’s wort stitched into their clothing to prevent the children being seized and carried off. For if the Faeries succeeded in capturing a child they would enslave it for lifetimes, caught in the web of illusion, madness and Glamour that the Faeries loved to weave. It had been a crushing blow to the Imomm and Wezom tribes when the Faiaites, obviously under the spell of some powerful enchantment, had placed Mary the ex-Bluite on their throne. All Faery tribes had longed for a ruler in Faia who was at least half-Faery blood. Diomonna spat again in defiance and contempt at the Faiaites’ treachery to the world of Faery. But soon the village was a dwindling blot of light and shadow retreating into the distance beneath her.
As the ragwort stem continued its flight over the grim, forbidding landscape of the Wastelands, Diomonna’s sharp eyes spotted the bodies, some still jerking fitfully, impaled on top of the Azephim turrets. Giving a mock-servile salute to the angels, her sharp Faery eyes sensed the lifeless Eom that lay dormant within the castle. How Diomonna would love to claim the Eom for herself! She was convinced — and the Hags had agreed with her in endless discussion — that if the Faeries had the mysterious black Eom for themselves they could cock their noses at Hades, refuse to pay the tithe, and the world of pure Faery could once again rule in Eronth! No more having to feed those fat, useless Bluite midwives that sat around like sows! At that thought Diomonna gave an excited jump on the ragwort, nearly losing her balance. Filled with confidence she sang to the angels’ castle.
Useless angel, useless stone,
No useless child for the throne!
Eom dead now — like his seed,
Ugly black wife — still doth bleed.
Faery curse now, you are swine!
Big Black Eom will be mine!
Saluting contemptuously and laughing hysterically, she flew by and left the castle far behind. As Diomonna considered the Eom and the handsome young Webx her tribe had captured, a plan began to take shape in her devious Faery mind.
*
Now Diomonna stood in the northerly, most desolate region of the Wastelands. She glanced around fearfully. This area of Eronth was not safe for a Faery but the Hag had insisted on them meeting here. The sky was overcast, a dull brownish colour, the air was stagnant and smelt rank. Bones littered the cracked, arid earth in every direction that the skittish Faery Queen looked. A great majority of the carcasses were Bluite, the flesh and clothing still clinging to some bones. Life still in the process of decomposing.
Horrified, Diomonnna recoiled, realising she stood in a Solumbi feeding pit. She craned her neck peering this way and that, looking out fearfully for the deadly beasts. Rats and ergoms scurried busily among the bones, and Diomonna felt her stomach lurch.
‘No safe for Faery, no safe for Faery!’ she whispered to herself.
For the first time she wondered if it was sheer folly to attempt to deceive the Hag. Perhaps Black Annis was brighter than she appeared. Then her wings fluttered in alarm. It was too late to back out now. The awesome black swan carriage that transported Black Annis was making its way across the purple sky. Diomonna shivered. Accompanying the arrival of the ancient cannibal was a black mist and a frost that swept the feeding pit with a chill. The scattered bones became laced with ice, adding a terrible beauty to the already grim landscape.
The six black swans landed gracefully on the ground in front of Diomonna. As they pulled up they spat at the Faery Queen, their contempt for the world of Faery visible in their haughty faces. Diomonna summoned up an image of them on a silver dish surrounded by a banquet feast and shot it back at them, forgetting her fear in the joy of the visual sparring. Black Annis alighted slowly, her arthrit
ic joints making her wince. Her long silver hair was scraped back from her face. Her lethal oversized pale eyes, so feared in Eronth, scrutinised the Faery Queen as she gave the Imomm greeting.
‘You have the Webx shootling?’ Black Annis hissed through gleaming fangs, still razor sharp and polished despite her declining years. Diomonna knew that if the ancient Hag lost her teeth, it would mean it was time for her sparrow to depart as the old carnivore would never survive on a diet of vegetables.
Bad Meat! Old Meat! she told herself privately. Trying not to flinch at the hatred in the ancient one’s voice and attempting to appear nonchalant, Diomonna held out the mojo bag containing the Bogie’s sperm. The Hag snarled her displeasure and the Queen jumped back a pace. The Swans spat again, disgusted at the impudence of a mere Faery who dared to disobey Black Annis.
‘I had given specific orders! No Faery hand was to contaminate his seed!’
Diomonna kept her face neutral, although she longed to just empty the sperm onto the ground and fly away. Generations of being treated with disgust and fear had bred a rebellious streak in the Faery and she continued to hold the mojo bag out.
‘I wanted to be the bearer. I wanted the honour of being carrier for Black Annis, hiss, claw,’ Diomonna said smoothly.
She watched with barely disguised anticipation as the Hag untied the mojo bag and sniffed the contents, focusing her mind on the smell of the young shootling. His Webxness sprang easily, too easily to her mind. As Diomonna had suspected, the ancient Hag fell for the illusion.
‘Black Annis is pleased with the Imomm!’ she announced.
Diomonna leapt into the air to signify her joy, although her real elation lay with the fact that the savage old Hag had not detected the odour of Bogie. The Hags were too important to the Imomm’s plans to risk offending them.
‘What docs Black Annis need with fluid from the handsome one?’ Diomonna became bold enough to ask.
Black Annis’s long, black, curling nails stroked the mojo bag reverentially and her enormous, inhuman eyes glanced in the direction of the Azephim castle.
‘Tis my bargaining tool!’ she snapped.
Diomonna frowned, a suspicion beginning to form in her mind.
‘What does the oldest Hag give the Imomm people in return? What is the gifting?’
The Hag smiled briefly, revealing her black, mottled gums. She gestured for the Faery Queen to look into her swan carriage. Unconscious on the black leather seats was a tiny boy, a Bluite child. Diomonna cried aloud in delight when she spotted him. He had the colouring that the Faeries favoured, blond curls and creamy skin. Excitedly she clapped her hands and immediately began trying to pull on the child’s arm to rouse him.
‘I will bring him to you when I collect my Hags,’ Black Annis promised. ‘He shall be prepared and ready for the tithe with Hades it you so wish.’
Clambering awkwardly into the carriage, she kicked the child with her boot.
‘I shall refrain from eating him,’ she promised, sensing the Faery Queen’s unspoken concern. Then she laughed malevolently. ‘We purchased his young sister as well. She will prove a more tender meal for Black Annis!’
Diomonna wondered how the cannibal Hag had acquired the siblings, although she was well aware there was a thriving black market trade in Crossas. Mary the Bluite had not managed to stamp it out despite her best efforts. Waving goodbye to Black Annis and giving a last mental pinch to the swans’ feathered behinds, she waited until the carriage had disappeared into the horizon, taking the black mist and fog with it. Then, reboarding her ragwort stem, Diomonna prayed to the Dreamers. Although she often doubted that the Dreamers were interested in the prayers of Faeries, the Faery Queen was quietly troubled that her deception with the sperm would be discovered by Black Annis. The Imomm had troubles enough without incurring the wrath of the land Hags. And so she prayed fervently that her scheme would succeed.
*
Black Annis was presented to Ishran and Sati immediately by the most exalted of their servants, angel watchers who had been in faithful service to Ishran for many years. The ancient Hag had proved a frequent visitor over the seasons and so the Dark Angels didn’t even bother with the formality of applying Glamour to themselves. They lay on their black throne, entwined together like two huge winged snakes, feasting hungrily on the carcass of something that had once moved and dreamed. Black Annis sniffed the air, suddenly realising how hungry she was. The excitement of the morning’s negotiations with the Imomm Queen had stimulated her appetite. The little girl she had eaten that morning had been far too small to satisfy her for long. She secretly hoped she would be invited to share the Azephim luncheon.
‘Ah, my dear old Hag! Greetings! What brings Black Annis to the Wastelands?’ said Ishran, his mouth flecked with brains and blood.
The Hag smiled. ‘Why, to bring the Great Winged Ones joyful tidings. I bring news that the Imomm people have a member of the Webx tribe in their possession.’
The bulbous eyes of the Ishran–Sati thing watched her with intensity as it continued to feed voraciously.
‘Not just any old Webx, either,’ the Hag continued, enjoying the moment. ‘I wouldn’t deign to bother you with trifles, Dark Ones. No, this is a pretty prize indeed. They have the shootling Gwyndion, barely sap-spawned, whose hostlings were the Elders, the protectors of the Eom!’
Suddenly, with a single whiplash movement, the snake-like creature that was Sati and Ishran separated. The feeding was abruptly terminated and Black Annis found herself looking into Ishran’s yellow eyes, radiant with light and hope, his glossy dark wings curled beneath him. Sati sat eagerly by his side, seductively beautiful as always under the illusion of Glamour.
‘You have done well, old stinking one,’ Ishran’s tone was silky and measured. ‘If this information be correct, you will be rewarded. What did you wish from the angels in return?’
‘There be three things,’ Black Annis said unflinchingly.
Ishran’s eyes slitted with suspicion. ‘Go on.’
‘I request that when your Solumbi cross into the other worlds they bring back a Bluite for Black Annis to feast upon. I request that Black Annis and the Earth Hags be allocated permanent quarters in the Azephim Castle. Thirdly, I request that your door be opened also to the Sea Hags.’
‘The Sea Hags!’ Sati exclaimed. ‘Pray tell us, Black Annis, how you expect the Sea Hags to sustain their life-force for an indefinite period out of water?’
‘There be ways, Dark Mistress,’ Black Annis replied inscrutably.
Ishran leant forward, his yellow eyes scrutinising the cragged face of the Earth Hag before him.
‘The angels have heard rumours, Hag. Possibly naught but idle Faiaite voices, but rumours nonetheless. It is said that the Sea Hags have already infiltrated Eronth, using magic, and they already walk among us. It is said they are seeking to seize power in Faia and take the throne from the rightful angel owners. You ask me to entertain the idea of taking into my home the Hags that would seek to attack Lord Ishran?’
Black Annis frowned. ‘This be fresh intelligence to Black Annis. I know nothing of it. The Sea Hags have always supported the Dark Angels. Indeed, my understanding was they longed for the time when the Azephim are promoted to their rightful place and the Bluite whore no longer rules the land!’
‘Black Annis,’ Sati said, ‘why do you wish the Sea Hags to leave their natural environment?’
‘Because I have the seed of the Webx Gwyndion,’ the Hag finally admitted.
There was a stifled gasp from the angel couple.
‘Aye, as you are aware, with his bodily fluid I could work powerful magic,’ she continued, ‘but I need the Hags from all quarters to assist me. Yea, the Sea Hags have a long tradition of Webx-lore, more so than any dweller I know of in the known worlds. Indeed, it was the Sea Hags who were witness when the original Webx Elders walked across the waves from the Heztarra Galaxy. If there be anyone that can help Black Annis with the sperm magic — it be the Sea Hags! If ther
e be anyone that understands Eom — it be the Sea Hags!’
The angels exchanged conspiratorial glances; the temptation to trust the Earth Hag strong indeed.
‘Pray tell, what is to prevent us going directly to the source? What is to stop me invading the Imomm and seizing the shootling?’ Ishran asked.
Black Annis laughed, revealing her piranha teeth and fetid breath. ‘Sometimes the most direct route is not the one to take, Lord Ishran. You may win a glorious battle, but you would not return to the castle with the Webx. The Imomm are masters of illusion and Glamour. They would shape-shift the shootling in a half-eyston!’
‘Yea, that may be truth, but how are we to trust that the sperm you boast of is from the Webx lad?’ Sati enquired. ‘We have only your word for it!’
The Earth Hag regarded them steadily. ‘Black Annis has seen and smelt the Webx’s seed. I am satisfied that it be from the Webx.’
The angels looked to each other in mute communion while Black Annis steeled herself to shape-shift to a rat and make her escape quickly from the castle if they made any sudden moves toward her. Then Ishran burst out laughing and thrust a severed gory limb in the Hag’s face.
‘Come, let us share our meal together and celebrate the merging of angels and Hags!’ Black Annis accepted the grisly offering eagerly. Fresh Bluite flesh was difficult to find now that time had caught up with the ageing Earth Hag. Her powerful jaws cracked the bone easily and she gnawed upon the delicious morsel reflecting that the union she had bargained for would have delicious side benefits for Black Annis. No more hungry belly! The trio began to growl and snarl as they tore the body to pieces, and between mouthfuls began to formulate their plan.
Circle of Nine: Circle of Nine Trilogy 1 Page 30
