Thaumatology 11 - For Whom the Wedding Bells Toll Read online

  There was a knock on the door and Lidial stepped through, striding over to the semi-circle of chairs and bowing deeply to Ceri. Ceri raised an eyebrow, but bowed her head in return. ‘Lady Brent, King Oberon and Queen Titania request your presence in their private chambers. I was told to tell you that they had important matters of state to discuss with you.’

  Ceri blinked, standing up and smoothing the front of her dress into place over her breasts and tugging the waistband down a little. ‘All right. Lily, you’d better stay here. I’ll have enough trouble controlling myself.’

  The King and Queen had their private rooms in the southern tower of the palace. Lidial took Ceri down, through a couple of passageways across the building, and then into an antechamber where the major-domo was waiting.

  Ceri was beginning to get the feeling that these men were selected for being mildly unpleasant. Oona’s had been a snivelling little man who oozed subservience like an oil. This one was a tall, thin Sidhe with a long nose which he probably used as a guide when looking down at people. Since he was a Sidhe he was not balding, but he somehow managed to give the impression that he was by tying his hair into a very tight ponytail.

  ‘Thank you, Captain,’ he said as they walked in. ‘That will be all.’ Lidial gave a curt nod and turned to leave; she did not like him either.

  ‘Thank you, Captain,’ Ceri said, and then turned to the major-domo. He said nothing, just turning and heading for a flight of circular stairs at the back of the room. There appeared to be a couple of floors of meeting rooms, one more formal, the other comfortably appointed, more of a sitting room. The fact that they stopped at neither was interesting; the royals apparently wanted a more intimate meeting. One floor up, and into the tower proper, and they went past another sitting room which looked more private and far more used, but still there was no sign of either of the two royals. Ceri was starting to worry that she would find them in a bedroom, but instead she was led off the stairs on the next floor, which was a library.

  Ceri let herself relax when she realised that the two figures sitting in the room were not giving off the aura of sheer attraction they had been in the audience chamber. They were still very attractive people, but not quite the awesome figures they had been. The major-domo turned as soon as she was in the room and walked out, closing the library door behind him as he went. Oberon and Titania looked up at the sound. He was sitting at a desk going over some papers. She was in an easy chair reading a small book which looked more like a novel than a textbook.

  Oberon smiled, revealing very white teeth. ‘So you do have normal eyes.’

  Ceri smiled back; it was hard not to. ‘I needed a bit of a boost, otherwise I’d have been making a total fool of myself in front of your court.’ She kicked herself. That had probably not been the best thing to admit to him, especially in front of his wife.

  Titania, however, appeared entirely un-phased. ‘That’s why we do it. People thinking with their sex organs tend to be less inclined to subterfuge.’ The queen’s smile was just as bright and… were her pupils dilated? ‘You must be quite aware of that.’ The smile twisted into a quizzical frown. ‘You aren’t, do you?’

  Flustered, Ceri went for changing the subject. ‘You asked to see me about some matter of state?’

  Oberon accepted the shift to business, though his eyes suggested amusement. ‘The sigil on that pendant, what do you know of it?’

  ‘I can pronounce the word, and I’m told it means “discord.”’

  ‘You read Old High Fae?’

  ‘I read Draconic. Not well, but enough. It’s the same script, apparently.’

  Oberon raised an eyebrow. ‘Not many people know that Old High Fae uses Draconic ideograms.’

  Ceri grinned. ‘I didn’t until I saw that. You know more about this particular one, though. I saw it in your faces when you were looking at the pendant.’

  ‘It first began to show up about forty years ago,’ Oberon said. ‘It belonged to some form of secret cult among the Unseelie in Ireland. We began to notice it when certain criminals began showing up with pendants like that one, or tattoos. They may have been operating for much longer and that was when we noticed them first. In the last decade they have begun appearing in our world too.’

  ‘They keep their secrets well,’ Titania went on. ‘We thought that they had spies within the court, but found no evidence. Since the body you brought in with you has mysteriously vanished during the night, we are now sure they have people here.’

  Ceri frowned. ‘Do you have any intelligence about them?’

  Oberon grunted unhappily. ‘We believe their primary base of operation is in Dublin. Our spies in that area have had a very short lifespan in the last fifteen years and we are seeing greater oppression of the humans in that city. Here we think they’ve established themselves within the Oighear Slaevte Tsale, the mountains south of here between the North and South. There is a strong belief that House Araket are heavily involved with them, as well as the Wildhorns, but if they are they’re hiding it well.’

  ‘Okay. This sounds like it’s something of a state secret. I’m happy that you’re telling me, because it gives us something to work with, but I’m also doubting that this is entirely freely given.’

  ‘We made no deal before I told you,’ Oberon replied, grinning broadly.

  ‘Freely given,’ Titania said, ‘but obviously we want you to use it to discover the sprite’s murderer, and as much as you can about this “Discord” group. Your reputation for getting to the bottom of things precedes you, sorceress.’

  Ceri sucked on one of her canines. ‘If this murder was committed by this group, the chances of us discovering the actual killer are slim. As I understand it, I’d need to hand you the actual murderer to get Ophelia off the charge.’

  ‘Technically correct, yes,’ Oberon replied. ‘Find sufficient proof that Discord has done the deed, or bring us knowledge of their leaders, and we will show as much mercy as the law allows. Have we a deal?’ He leaned forward, offering his hand across the desk.

  It was likely the best they could hope for. She reached forward and took Oberon’s hand. ‘We have a deal.’

  Interlude

  Kennington, London, September 1st, 2007

  ‘The dishes fairy is now doing the laundry,’ Ceri commented as Lily padded into the kitchen, her bare feet slapping on the slate floor.

  ‘Laundry now?’ She crossed to the coffee machine on the counter and poured herself a mug. ‘Oh that’s good.’

  ‘Yeah. I didn’t make that either.’

  ‘Dishes, laundry, and coffee.’

  ‘And someone dusted in the study. The second kitchen is cleaner than this one. We definitely have someone here with us.’

  ‘Fae? A brownie? Aren’t they supposed to sneak around the house doing chores and things?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  The girl was looking far too thoughtful. Gloriandel watched from the corner of the counter and considered, once again, that she should move on. She had stayed far longer than she had meant to, and Ceri was right, she had been doing more and more around the house. Lifting into the air she floated out of the kitchen and headed up to her attic.

  And there was another thing, she was thinking of it as her attic now. She had a nice little space there, hidden away behind some old bookshelves which had been stored there to house books which either failed to fit onto the library shelves or were no longer of use. Boxes provided more security, making it harder for a large person to get to the little hidden space, but not hindering a flying fairy. She had a small larder, which had once been a cupboard, in which to store food. An old cot padded with blankets provided her with a very comfortable space to sleep. She had even arranged a couple of carpet fragments she had found up there so she had somewhere to sit. And her space was right over a hot water pipe feeding the bathroom which kept things warm. It was cosy.

  That did not mean she should stay, of course. If the situation was insecure she should leave. If they saw her… Ex
cept, she thought as she took a millipede from her larder and settled down to crack its shell, she had grown to rather like the odd couple living in the big house with her. She had learned more than a little about them in the time she had been there and they were, in some ways, a little like her. Ceri had lost her parents in a car accident and was close to being a recluse. She went out to university, but came straight home, and it seemed that it was only Lily’s encouragement that kept her from staying at home all the time. Lily had been a teenage runaway; a half-succubus who had fled her home after her demonic powers had caused too much trouble. She was outgoing, outwardly confident, but with an inner core of insecurity and a dread of returning to the prostitution and pornography she had fallen into before. It seemed to be Ceri’s friendship which kept her on the straight and narrow.

  And now they had Gloriandel, their invisible housemate, keeping the place tidy. It worked, currently, but it could not last. She tucked into the interior of the bug. Really. It could not last.

  September 2nd

  Gloriandel floated into the kitchen and the carafe from the coffee machine lifted to go to the sink for water. The filter box removed itself, dumped its used contents into the bin, and then waited for a new filter and coffee to be added. The carafe poured water into the reservoir and then settled itself back onto the hotplate.

  And then she noticed the note on the counter beside the sink. While the coffee machine finished assembling itself, she floated over and looked down. Thank you for the coffee, the note said. Beside it on the counter was a thimble with honey in it. She did like honey, and they already knew she was there so taking it would not be a giveaway…

  ~~~

  ‘The honey’s gone,’ Lily commented as she poured her morning coffee. Well, her morning coffee was actually afternoon coffee, but still…

  ‘Uh-huh,’ Ceri said, not looking up from her Wednesday Witch. ‘There’s a reply too.’

  Lily blinked and turned to look at the paper. Below the thank you, in very neat handwriting, was written, Thank you for the honey. It’s better thinned with a little alcohol. ‘Cool,’ Lily said, smiling brightly, ‘we’re communicating.’

  September 5th

  There was another note beside her thimble of honey. They had been thinning it with a little white wine the last couple of days, which was just perfect. She was lucky that fairies tended not to get fat. She checked the note.

  We would really like to meet you. Lily only bites if you ask her nicely.

  Gloriandel stifled a giggle, and then frowned as she set up the coffee machine. They wanted to meet her. Well, she could stay hidden. She doubted they would look for her, but then again, that seemed a little rude. She could leave. She could also stay…

  ~~~

  ‘Any reply?’ Lily asked as she walked in to get coffee.

  Ceri looked up briefly. ‘No.’

  ‘Oh.’ Lily poured a mug of coffee and let some of the dark liquid slither down her throat, closing her eyes and revelling in the sensation of having her neurons kick-started.

  ‘Oh! Uh… Lil?’

  Lily opened her eyes and looked at Ceri, then at where Ceri was looking. Sat in the middle of the table, her legs crossed and a thimble of honey in her hands, was a fairy with nut-brown skin, a cap of purple hair, and a pair of beautiful, feathery, blue-white wings.

  ‘Hello,’ Gloriandel said. ‘I’m Twill.’

  Part Three: Discord

  The Ice-capped Mountains, Otherworld, February 6th, 2013

  ‘Tell me again why we’re marching into the Oighear Slaevte Tsale on foot looking for people who want to kill us?’ Ophelia was not a happy Sidhe. Aside from anything else it was early spring, they were over a thousand feet up, and it was not warm.

  ‘To save your scrawny butt,’ Lily replied. Lily was not happy either, but mostly because she was tired of Ophelia complaining. Despite the weather, the half-succubus was wearing a leather loincloth and a top which left one shoulder and most of her chest bare. She claimed it was easier for fighting in; Ceri knew she just liked being half-dressed.

  ‘My butt is not scrawny. I’ve had compliments on my butt. It’s nicely rounded. I have a sweet butt!’

  ‘She has got a nice backside,’ Michael commented.

  ‘The point still stands,’ Lily replied.

  ‘It does,’ Michael agreed.

  ‘Out of interest,’ Ceri asked. ‘Are you complaining about looking for Discord, or having to walk to do it?’

  ‘Mostly it’s the walking.’ In return for her grumble she just got a few giggles. ‘It’s not funny. I don’t usually walk further than a mile in any given day.’

  ‘Well most of us can’t ride,’ Ceri pointed out, ‘so horses weren’t an option, and it’s not like we could bring a carriage further than we did.’ They had done the initial climb to the top of the pass south of the palace in a carriage, but then they had had to cut across country on paths which rapidly shrank to the point that they had to walk single file. ‘We’re also trying to find them before they find us, so a little quiet would not be a bad idea.’

  ‘Do we even know we’re going the right way?’

  ‘The best intelligence Oberon and Lorian could provide suggested that going west was the best bet. We’re going west.’

  Ophelia sighed, but at least she stopped talking.

  ~~~

  The mountains were quite beautiful really. The highest peaks had snow on them all year round, which gave them their name, and at this time of year there was more of it further down the slopes. The views were quite spectacular; there were some deep valleys hidden amongst the mountains, as well as the mountains themselves which were tall and craggy, and made of a slightly blue rock which shone in the sunlight. They reminded both Ceri and Michael of the Welsh mountains. Perhaps a little higher in places, but somehow similar. High up in the sky, the black shapes of crows or ravens circled on the air currents.

  Michael in particular was enjoying the walk. He had a fairy on each shoulder, which he did not seem to be minding at all. He had changed over the time Ceri had known him. When they had first met he had been very insecure in his human form and not as confident in either form. Two naked women using him as a perch, even if they were smaller than his hands, would have had him blushing back then. Now he marched along, perfectly happy, at the head of the line, chatting to Ishifa in a low voice.

  The fairy maid seemed to have taken a liking to the werewolf. He had banged her silly after the Imbolc feast, but Ceri suspected it was more that she could connect with him better. Ophelia was fae, but a high-ranking one. Lily was a half-demon and most Seelie fae seemed wary around demons. Ceri was… well, the list was probably a long one, and Twill was Ishifa’s mistress. But Michael was just an ordinary man, even if he could grow fur and fangs. He was important within the pack, but he held no particularly special position. He was like Ishifa and she liked that.

  Suddenly Michael came to an abrupt stop and Ceri almost walked into his back. ‘Trouble?’ she asked.

  ‘Scent on the wind. Smells like troll.’ The wind was blowing from the west. Maybe the information they had was correct.

  ‘Can you tell how far?’

  ‘There’s a small valley up ahead. I think it’s coming up from in there. My nose isn’t quite as good in skin.’

  ‘We could scout?’ Ishifa suggested. ‘No troll is going to see us and we can come back and tell you what’s there.’

  Twill lifted into the air. ‘An excellent suggestion.’ She started forward, followed by Ishifa, and the two of them faded into invisibility before they had gone ten yards.

  ‘Are they going to be okay?’ Michael asked, keeping his voice soft.

  ‘Twill was hidden away in High Towers for months before we found her,’ Lily said from the back of the line. ‘And then we only knew she was there because she started doing the dishes.’

  ‘Fairies and sprites make really excellent scouts and spies,’ Ophelia agreed.

  Sure enough, it was only a few minutes before Twil
l rematerialized, in flight down the track toward them. ‘A small war band,’ she said. ‘Six trolls. They’ve stopped to eat in a clearing about a quarter of a mile from here. Ishifa is keeping an eye on them.’

  ‘Could you see the tattoo on any of them?’ Ceri asked.

  ‘Not that I could see.’

  ‘All right. What do you think our chances are of just talking to them?’

  ‘Trolls are not exactly noted for their sparkling personalities and communicative natures,’ Ophelia offered. ‘Even if they haven’t been sent to kill us, they probably won’t want to be friends.’

  ‘I tend to concur with my Unseelie colleague,’ Twill said. ‘I’m not saying you can’t try, just that you should be ready for them to speak with their fists.’

  ‘I think we should try,’ Ceri suggested. ‘If this bunch aren’t involved with Discord, they may be willing to help us find the ones who are.’

  ‘Okay,’ Ophelia said, ‘but not “we.” I’m the diplomat, I go talk to them.’

  Ceri raised an eyebrow. ‘You’ll go in alone? Walk into their camp and try to get them to talk? That’s kind of… not like you.’

  ‘Well, it is my arse. Besides, you’re going to be encircling them while I chat, and if they do decide I’d be better on a roasting spit I expect you to save me.’

  ‘We could do that, yeah,’ Lily replied, smiling sweetly.

  ~~~

  The six trolls had managed to spear a deer of some sort and were busy eating it. There was no fire; trolls were quite happy eating just about anything, including uncooked meat, bones, and the marrow within. There were rumours that a trolls digestive system could get nutrition out of a rock, but this was actually incorrect. They did occasionally swallow pebbles to help with digesting bones, but derived no other benefit from it. Trolls were hardy creatures, suited to the wild places they called home, and considered monsters by the other fae.

  Hence, when the tall, attractive Sidhe walked into the clearing they were using as a camp with her hands raised and no visible weapons on her person, the trolls were a little surprised. A couple of them, who had managed to get their hands on a captured Sidhe female before thought it was their lucky day.