Everbright

by Ken Altabef

  “Where do you stand, Eccobius?” Theodora asked, thinking his support might sway the few who had not yet committed.

  Eccobius raised a red light. “I stand with Dryxlla.”

  Impossible! Theodora swept the crowd with her incisive gaze. Meadowlark, as might be expected, held up a feeble red light. His face still held that pained expression, and Theodora recognized the same expression on Eccobius’ features. In fact, many among them, all supporters of Dresdemona, wore that same addled expression on their faces.

  “She’s controlling them!” Theodora shouted. “This isn’t a fair vote.” She was roundly booed and quickly drowned out. The winner was obvious. Eccobius already had the crown of light raised above Dresdemona’s head. Theodora felt she was swimming in a nightmare.

  “Now we do things my way,” Dresdemona said. “We drive the humans out, and we keep them out. Pox will set up a military force of our own. We’ll show them what real faeries can do.”

  “No,” said Theodora, “This won’t work. You’ll just be driving us back into subjugation.” The crowd drowned out her pleas and she was too weak to shout anything more.

  “The Hunt will keep us safe,” Dresdemona announced. “The British will fear us again!”

  Theodora turned to Moonshadow. “It’s a strain,” she said. “Look at her. Controlling so many of them like this. After what happened on the Bowburn moors. She’s weak. She’s vulnerable.”

  “Alright Theodora, I see,” Moonshadow said. “I know what I have to do. If I’ve never known it before, I know it now.”

  She raised both hands to the sky and shot out a pillar of bright silver-white light. “I challenge!” she screamed.

  Chapter 60

  Moonshadow had everyone’s full attention.

  Dresdemona laughed. “The challenge is over, dear. Didn’t you see the vote—all the pretty little red lights. Now, be quiet and scurry off to wherever losers go after they’ve been soundly beaten and we’ll talk later.”

  “A vote?” Moonshadow continued. “A vote cannot prove who is the stronger! A vote can not show who is best fit to lead. You don’t understand, I challenge you to a trial by combat. Do you fear me? Is that it?”

  “I fear no one.”

  “Then we fight. Right now. I see no reason to wait.”

  The crowd took up the chant. “Fight! Fight! Fight!” Instinctively they stepped further back from the dais, clearing a larger circle. Eccobius gestured for Dresdemona to hand him back the crown, but she shooed him away.

  Moonshadow stepped into the circle and Theodora had never been as proud of her sister as she felt at that moment. Fighting was not Moonshadow’s way, but she was willing to do anything to save Everbright from this monster, even if she had to fight, and possibly even kill.

  Dresdemona turned away as if to confer with Pox who stood beside her.

  “Coward!” shouted Moonshadow, “You don’t have—”

  Her statement was cut short as Dresdemona whirled about, both hands extended, and fired off a blast of dark energy that knocked Moonshadow off her feet. The blast of darkness was a weapon devoid of light, that swallowed all light and was as painful to a faery as a knife-thrust through the heart.

  A ring of silver light flared around Moonshadow as she deflected most of the damage. She fired back from the ground, a blast of crystal light, with a million tiny points each as sharp as any sword’s edge. Dresdemona countered the attack, blunting the cutting points with her own dark energy. Theodora saw a distinctly weary look on the Dark Queen’s face.

  Moonshadow saw it too and immediately levitated off the ground. She rose easily, hovering a few feet above Dresdemona and ready to launch an aerial attack.

  “That’s it,” whispered Theodora. “Make her come to you. Tire her out.”

  Moonshadow circled, firing off small blasts of stinging yellow and green energy. Too vulnerable on the ground, Dresdemona reluctantly took to the air herself. She maneuvered clumsily, dampening most of the blows but unable to fire back.

  Moonshadow kept at her, pestering her with little scissoring attacks of sharp-edged light. Theodora was amazed. Only a very few faeries could actually use light as a weapon, and most of those were long-dead legends. There was good reason Moonshadow had led them this far. Hopefully the crowd would be reminded. She always was the best of us.

  Her attacks forced Dresdemona into a tight defensive position, now little more than a ball, huddling herself close, spinning almost helplessly in the sky. Her dress was torn and little flecks of purple blood spattered down onto the crowd below.

  “Finish her,” hissed Theodora. “Hurry.”

  Moonshadow held back for a second and it was a second too long. Dresdemona unfurled herself, gliding into an aerial updraft. At the same instant she unleashed another blast of dark energy, a blunt force rather than sharp-edged light. The wave hit Moonshadow full in the chest, driving her downward. She lost control of her levitation and flailed as she crashed to earth. She hit the ground and rolled, coming up in a half-crouch but sorely hurt.

  Damn it! Dresdemona is stronger than we thought, Theodora worried, and so full of tricks.

  A dazed expression crossed Moonshadow’s face. Dresdemona soared downward. She came screaming at Moonshadow, fingers extended like claws aimed at her pretty face. But when she landed, Moonshadow was no longer there.

  “The dagger!” Nora said, bringing her hand to her waist and finding it gone.

  Moonshadow, moving faster than the eye could see, had snatched it away. She reappeared in tiny flashes cutting across the circle and then came full into view, standing behind Dresdemona. Dresdemona was still on her knees, looking at the empty space her opponent had already vacated. Moonshadow held the dagger across her throat.

  “Yield to me,” she said, “or die!”

  Theodora breathed a sigh of relief.

  It was difficult to see what happened next. Moonshadow crumpled forward, and Dresdemona was gone. Not gone, but standing now behind Moonshadow. Theodora watched in horror as a sabre tip emerged from the front of her sister’s chest. The blade extended a full half its length, powered by Dresdemona’s powerful thrust. Pox’s sword. Dresdemona also knew the trick of time.

  “No!” moaned Theodora, “Oh, no!”

  Moonshadow fell forward, violet blood trickling from her mouth. The stunned expression on her face gave way to grim resolve. She knew she had only a moment more to live. She arched her head up, and met Theodora’s horrified gaze. She tried to say something but her lips only twitched slightly then she fell face-forward into the dirt.

  Dresdemona was left in only a slightly better condition. She fell backward, completely spent. Pox rushed to her side and helped her to her feet. Dresdemona stood for a moment, pale as a ghost as she gathered her breath and her wits.

  Theodora, lost in rage and sorrow, stepped forward.

  “I—I challenge…” she started to say.

  Pox knocked her away and Theodora crumpled to the ground, too weak to get back up.

  Dresdemona walked the few yards to where the Crown of Joy Eternal had fallen from her head during the fight. Every step seemed to be a painful struggle. She picked it up and placed it squarely over her brow. Her dress was torn and blood trickled from dozens of small cuts, but she still managed to walk gracefully away toward the West Tower.

  James helped his mother to her feet.

  “The sword,” she hissed. “James, you have to safeguard the sword!”

  Chapter 61

  James arrived in the secret caves beneath Everbright just moments before Pox and his minions. First he’d carried his mother to her apartment in the East Tower. He laid her down on her feather bed.

  “Arondight!” Theodora said, “You can’t let them have it!”

  “I understand,” he replied. “But let me see if I can help you first.”

  Theodora pushed him away. “There’s no time. I’ll be fine. A little rest. That’s all I need.”

  “I can go,” Nora suggested. “I’m n
o good at healing. Let James stay here and try.”

  “No!” said Theodora. “It has to be James!”

  She could say no more and lapsed into a fitful sleep.

  “Oh, James,” Nora said. “Moonshadow’s dead! And mother almost so. It’s all gone wrong. Terribly wrong.”

  “I can’t believe it either. Why would Moonshadow do something like that? Challenging Dresdemona?”

  “She was desperate. Dresdemona’s a monster. And now she’s got her claws into Everbright, wearing that stupid crown. She’ll ruin everything. But I don’t see what we might do about it. What’s this about a sword?”

  “Arondight. The Unfading Light of the Lake. Mother’s right. We don’t have much time. Do what you can for her. I’ve got to go!”

  James hurried through the subterranean world of Barrow Downes. He had the advantage of familiarity with the layout of the caves and knew the location of most of the secret places. He headed straight to his target.

  He had seen Arondight only once before. It lay on a shelf of stone, recessed into the wall of the giant mushroom cavern. The sister blade to fabled Excalibur, it appeared no differently than any other sword dating back to the 6th century. Yet, despite its age the blade still gleamed as if brand new, reflecting the gentle hints of light that touched it from James’ lantern. It was a long blade, almost four feet long, with a finely inset pommel. The strips of leather wrapped around the hilt were old and cracked, but had stubbornly refused to fall away despite the passage of centuries. Inscribed along the base of the blade were ancient faery runes that teased the eye with a faint glow that pretended to be no more than just a trick of the light.

  James heard Pox and his band of ruffians approaching. They made quite a bit of noise as they gleefully ransacked the caverns of Barrow Downes looking to plunder whatever treasures or useful goods they might find. Whatever they did not want, they seemed content to smash. Did they know about Arondight? Dresdemona had no shortage of spies, but James didn’t know if any had penetrated this far down below. In any case they would soon be upon him. He had no idea what he would do then. How to stop them?

  James had always been a pacifist. His sympathetic nature had long ago convinced him of the worth of all types of life on earth, from the lowliest scrabbling beetle to the loftiest falcon. He was a great marksman with the pistol but refused to level one at any other living thing. This passivity had been a great disappointment to his father and the Grayson man-at-arms Fitzroy March, who had tried to train him in swordsmanship. He could not use this weapon even if he wanted to. And he had no desire to hurt any faery, even Pox and his maniacs.

  The Winter Court faeries had reached the adjacent cavern, where the faery children incubated in their giant host mushrooms. They had no interest in harming the infants, but argued over whether it was desirable to take away some of the rare mushrooms that grew in the cave. Some of them had pleasant intoxicating effects.

  James felt a cold sweat break out across the back of his neck. He was terrified. He had intended to safeguard the sword—which he’d assumed meant to hide it somewhere outside of Dresdemona’s reach—but now there was no time for any of that. He was trapped in this cavern, a blind end with nowhere to turn. His heartbeat thumped in his ears, along with the rattling sound of his own fear, filling the chamber, until he realized he was actually hearing that sound. Hearing the mutterings of the great sword itself.

  He still had not yet gotten used to his new faery senses. Since his recent transformation, he’d found himself attuned to sights and sounds he’d never experienced before, a new world that had always lurked just below the surface. The humming in his ears filled his mind. What does it mean? What does it want?

  He saw an armored figure, harsh sunlight glinting off the polished plates. He felt that light expanding, flowing outward, filling the entire world. He smelled blood.

  Pox burst into the room, followed by several members of his Wild Hunt. The green-skinned faery was half-transformed with bloodlust and the wild energies of the Hunt. He’d grown nearly as large as a bear, and his eyes blazed fiercely on either side of a long, ferocious snout. James shrank back at the sight of his huge clawed hands, which could easily tear him apart.

  “What do we have here?” Pox said. “It’s the Grayson boy, isn’t it? Pretending to be a real faery.”

  He laughed his cruel laugh. “Well let’s just see the color of his blood. What do you think, boys? Be it purple as ours or red like a British dog?”

  He drew his sabre and slashed it in the air. James noticed it was still stained with faery blood—Moonshadow’s blood.

  James’ first instinct was to run, but his adversaries blocked the only exit. And that wouldn’t solve the problem of the sword. Finally, the murmuring of the sword told him what he must do. He was the man to wield it. It made certain promises to him.

  James took the hilt of the sword and found it surprisingly warm in his hand. He whirled around and raised it high. All fear had left him. These faeries could not harm him. They would not get the sword. He would have to injure no one.

  Pox snickered. “He wants to fight! Oho, this is better than I could’ve hoped. But what…?”

  He shielded his eyes from the glare as a change came over the sword and the man wielding it. The blade burst into flame, painfully bright as it radiated up from the hilt. Bathed in this new light, James appeared horrifyingly dangerous, his horned face appearing identical to Herne the Lord of the Hunt.

  All five of the Winter Court faeries took a step back. The others were surprised to see their leader retreat as well.

  “Pox!” cried Orgo, “Are you going to—”

  “Shut up!”

  The song of the blade filled the cave, or at least it seemed that way to James. The others grimaced and shrank further back. It was obvious that one slash of this weapon would cut any man, or faery, in half. Its touch would burn away their souls.

  “Let’s away,” said Pox in a low tone. “Let him alone. For now.”

  He received no argument from the others.

  Chapter 62

  “Look sharp!” Dresdemona said to the guards outside her door. “No one is to disturb me tonight, you hear?”

  She did not wait for their slavish acknowledgements but slammed the door behind her.

  She welcomed the sight of her luxurious bed. How she wanted to collapse into its soft cushions and fall to sleep. It had been a thoroughly exhausting day. After the fight with Moonshadow, and her deliciously tricksy victory, she had spent several hours under the care of Drezwit, her principle healer. Drezwit was the only faery she allowed to tend to her wounds, a man she knew she could trust to merge with her in such a weakened and vulnerable condition, a man she controlled completely by way of the gladdrun.

  As much as she was looking forward to getting into bed, she felt a maternal urge first to check on Oberon. She crossed to the far side of the room and stepped behind the wicker screen. Her two banshees stood patiently on guard at either side of the crib. Oberon lay on his back fidgeting with a little cloth ball. Oberon. Her dream of the future. Dresdemona picked the boy up and nuzzled him. The boy reacted with a coo and a smile. He got no such attention from the banshees, who were incapable of love or kindness.

  I shall have to find some suitable playmates for you, she thought. There were none among the faery-folk, as their children slept away their early years within the giant mushrooms down below. But she would make it a priority to snatch a few human-born. Two or three children should do the trick, and she would raise them herself, happy little changeling children replaced in their cradles by lifeless effigies in wood. It was, after all, a fine tradition.

  Oberon reached up and tweaked her nose, blowing bubbles of spittle from his mouth.

  “I can’t play with you now, dear,” she said. “Mummy’s too tired. We’ve had a very good day, but it’s hard work securing your birthright for you.”

  She set him back down in his bed and the child fussed and kicked.

  “Not now
,” she said.

  She trudged back across the bedroom, with barely enough strength to make it to the bed. With a sigh, she lay down. A successful day. A triumphant day.

  With Moonshadow gone, there was no appreciable obstacle to her plans left in Everbright. She supposed Theodora would be the leader of the resistance now. She must be done away with, but that was simple enough. A wicked thought crossed Dresdemona’s mind. Why not have her dog do it? Have him go back to Theodora and pledge his love for her and then slit her throat. Delicious.

  “Where’s my dog?”

  “I’m here, ma’am.”

  “Step forward.”

  Meadowlark had been crouched in the corner, sitting silently out of the way.

  “Why are you still wearing those clothes?” she demanded. “Toys aren’t allowed clothes. Take them off! Now!”

  Meadowlark dutifully stripped off the suit of green fiber. Dresdemona didn’t care to watch. When he had finished, he stood obediently by the side of the bed.

  Yes, she would have him kill Theodora. And then himself. But that was for the morrow. She had a different idea for this evening.

  Dresdemona gathered her strength and sent a little burst of the gladdrun at him. It was just a whiff, all she had strength left for, but enough to make sure of the control.

  “Well, don’t just stand there. I’ve had a hard day and I want someone to rub my back.”

  She laughed, slipping her gown down from her shoulders and letting it fall to her waist. “Well, come along!”

  She turned to the side and he climbed onto the bed behind her.

  “You know how I like it,” she said.

  Meadowlark was quite familiar with the way she liked it. He had been forced to rub her back, and her arse, and her feet, many times before. He placed both hands on the back of her neck where it joined the shoulder and proceeded to knead the muscles with long hard strokes, digging his thumbs in. Just the way she liked it. More than anything else he wanted to put his hands full across her throat and squeeze the life out of her, but that would not do.