Thaumatology 11 - For Whom the Wedding Bells Toll Page 2

  Rather than heading for the central building, however, the guards led the way to a low building off to the right, isolated from everything else around it. The leader turned and pointed toward a heavy wooden door. ‘You’re in there, Silvershield. The rest of you are in that side.’ He indicated a second door at the other end of the building. ‘Mistress Gloriandel will be joining you shortly.’

  Ophelia nodded. ‘Just go in and get comfortable. Gloriandel will be expected to spend the time up until the wedding with you three so they won’t keep her up in the castle for long.’ Her gaze turned to the guard. ‘That would be a distinct failure of tradition and hospitality.’

  Ceri saw the guard’s face redden. The tightening around his eyes and jaw suggested anger. He did not like having his job told to him by an Unseelie. ‘Thank you, Ophelia. A pleasure meeting you again.’ The fae woman smiled, looking a little surprised that Ceri appeared to be being genuine, and then started off for her room. Ceri nodded to the guard and then started off toward the second door he had indicated.

  Clearly they had been put in some sort of guest quarters. It was a small suite with a large bed chamber which doubled as a lounge, and a bathroom set off from it. The bed was large, with four ornate posts carved from a dark wood Ceri did not recognise. There was a fireplace which had been set with a log fire to warm the room through, and there was a loveseat and two armchairs set around that. Lily walked over to a large wardrobe near the bed, opening it to look inside, while Ceri checked the bathroom. The bath was a large, stone affair built into the floor and wall, and there was a sink and toilet which both looked quite modern given the setting. Indoor plumbing, it appeared, had been invented, or imported.

  ‘Wow.’ Lily’s voice drew Ceri out into the main room again. ‘Dresses, and clothes for Michael,’ Lily said. She glanced back toward the werewolf. ‘I don’t think you’ll be too embarrassed about wearing these either.’ She pulled out a dark grey, loose shirt with embroidered patterns around the wide collar. ‘There’s some slacks in here that look like they’ll fit you like a glove. You’ll have all the fae girls fawning over you.’

  Michael looked back at her and smiled. ‘I don’t need them. I’ve got all the women I need right here.’

  Lily giggled. ‘You used to be this tongue-tied teenager and now look at you, saying just what a girl wants to hear.’ Michael demonstrated that he still had a hint of the bashful late-teen about him by blushing at the compliment.

  Ceri pulled something out of the wardrobe, a tabard-like dress, two panels held together with a choker and some belts. She grinned. ‘You’ll look stunning in this, Lil.’

  The half-succubus pursed her lips, eyes tracking down the garment. ‘I’m flattered you think I’m that tall. It’s sized for you.’

  Ceri let out a cough. ‘Uh… right.’ She pushed the dress on its wooden hanger back into the cupboard and turned just in time to see a streak of blue-white light fly in through an opening near the eaves, streaming toward them and then doubling back to pass Michael, and then whipping three times around the room before coming to stop.

  The ball of light resolved itself into a woman. Four inches in height, give or take, she had skin the colour of a ripe conker and a cap of bright purple hair. A good portion of her height was in the form of long legs which somehow looked fine at her natural height, but if you scaled her up she took on something of the exaggerated quality of a wartime pinup painting. Sprouting from between her shoulder blades were wings, somewhat like a butterflies, but more feathery, and blue-white in colour. Up close, and she proceeded to get very up close as she buzzed between the three of them speaking too fast for real words to be resolved, she was a pretty woman who looked no older than Michael. She had a cute face, a little rounded with a pert nose and deep, brown eyes.

  As Ceri waited for the suddenly arrived bride to calm down enough to be understood, she noticed the arrival of a second fairy through the little doorway in the eaves. This one was white skinned, though her body showed a tan. Her hair was a little longer, and dark blue with a black fringe, and her wings seemed a little darker too.

  ‘So, do we call you Gloriandel now?’ Ceri said when the brown fairy let her get a word in.

  ‘Oh please don’t, Ceri.’ The voice slowed to a decipherable speed and the look on Twill’s face was pleading. The other fairy’s eyes widened at Twill’s answer, but Ceri just smiled.

  ‘You’ve no idea how pleased I am to see you too, Twill,’ Ceri said. The fairy gave a little squeak of glee and flitted forward to kiss Ceri on the nose before turning and giving the same treatment to Lily and Michael. ‘Who’s your friend?’ Ceri asked as Michael looked distinctly embarrassed.

  ‘Oh yes, introductions,’ Twill said, waving at the other fairy to come forward. ‘This is Ishifa Bushbottom, my maid.’ Somehow Twill managed to get just how much she did not want a maid into two words. ‘Ishifa, this is Ceridwyn Brent, Lily Carpenter, and Michael, my friends.’

  Ishifa bobbed a little curtsey in the air. ‘It’s such a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard such things about you.’

  ‘Since I’ll be staying here until the wedding,’ Twill went on, ‘Ishifa will be staying with us. My mother doesn’t believe I can survive without a servant.’ The sarcasm dripped off her words like treacle. ‘I see you’ve found the clothes. We’ll go over that shortly.’ She twisted in the air and flew back to Lily, lifting her slave chain. ‘More piercings, Lily? Why are you wearing a slave chain?’

  ‘I like it,’ Lily replied, pouting a little.

  ‘And I haven’t had a chance to cut it off,’ Ceri added. ‘Things have been a little… busy recently.’

  ‘I want a less permanent replacement,’ Lily said, ‘so she can’t take it until I have one.’

  ‘I see,’ Twill said, swinging around in the air. ‘Ishifa, find Master Loram. Make sure he has silver chain in stock and then bring him here immediately.’ Ceri raised an eyebrow at the rather imperious tone, but the fairy maid seemed quite happy with it.

  ‘Of course, Mistress.’ Twisting in the air, Ishifa flitted off toward the eaves, wrapping herself in blue-white magic as her speed increased.

  Twill waited a few seconds after Ishifa left and then let out a long sigh. ‘Good. We have a few minutes alone. I need you all to listen to me and do as I ask.’ All three looked intently at her, waiting to see what she would say. ‘I’d imagine you came with some idea of saving me from this marriage.’

  ‘Of course,’ Lily said, frowning. ‘When I found out you’d run away from it, I knew we couldn’t…’

  Twill held up a hand and Lily cut herself off, her frown deepening. ‘Don’t. Do nothing to interfere. I can’t have it. My family are fully aware that you are likely to want to stop the wedding and they will be watching us closely. Ishifa is a sweet child, but she’s under orders to report anything she overhears, and she’s too scared of my mother to disobey her.’

  ‘But…’ Lily began.

  ‘No,’ Twill interrupted, her voice firm. ‘This is a political marriage. In all probability I’ll have to spend barely any time with the disgusting little sprite. Whatever the case, I will not have you putting yourselves in danger to stop it.’

  Ceri looked at her tiny friend. ‘You’re asking a lot, Twill.’ Her voice was soft and there was pain in it. ‘I know you came back to try to help me. If it wasn’t for me, they wouldn’t know where you were.’

  ‘But it wasn’t your fault, was it, Ceri?’ Twill replied. ‘And it was my choice to seek help from my family. It may have been too late, but that was my mistake. Don’t make it worse by getting yourselves killed, or worse, trying to “save” me.’

  ‘You ran away from this marriage once, Twill,’ Lily said.

  ‘I was young,’ the fairy replied. ‘I wanted to marry for love, not for some political advantage. After all this time I’ve given up on love. That kind of love anyway. To be honest, dear, I’m quite happy with good friends and excellent sex once in a while.’ That made Lily giggle.

  �
��All right, Twill,’ Ceri said. ‘I’m not happy, but I won’t go against your wishes. I do have one question.’

  ‘Yes, Ceri?’

  ‘Just how old are you? You always claimed to be eighteen, and we never really believed you.’

  ‘A, um, slight embroidery of the truth. I’m eighteen… decades. By your reckoning I’ll be one-hundred and eighty-three tomorrow. Most fae are very long lived, even fairies.’

  ‘Oh. At least we know when to celebrate your birthday now.’

  Further discussion was stopped by a knock on the door. Twill turned toward it, raising her hand, and the wood hinged back to reveal Ishifa and a well-built, middle-aged man who appeared to be about two feet high. He had something of a sour expression, and pointed ears.

  ‘Master Loram,’ Twill said, ‘it’s good of you to come. I have an urgent commission for you. I need it done by nightfall. Lily, would you kneel down so that Master Loram can examine that chain of yours?’

  Lily got down on her knees as the small man walked through the door and crossed the room to look up at the chain hanging between Lily’s lip and ear. He pursed his lips. ‘You’re wantin’ it removable? And you’re not wantin’ enchantments?’

  ‘Just a plain chain,’ Lily told him, ‘that I can take off if I need to.’

  ‘All these rush jobs,’ Loram grumbled. Ceri guessed he was a hob, and they were noted for having bad tempers. He looked up at Twill. ‘Seeing as it’s you, Mistress Gloriandel, you’ll have it afor the sun sets.’ He reached out his hand and tapped the chain Lily was wearing. There was a pinging noise and the metal dropped into his waiting fingers. ‘I’ll take this for the length.’

  ‘Dispose of it carefully, Master Loram,’ Ceri said. ‘The metal was mined in the Demon Realm.’

  The little man looked at her, his eyes brightening. ‘It was, was it? I’ve use for that.’ Looking rather happier than he had when he arrived, Loram walked back out through the door which closed behind him, apparently of its own volition.

  ‘He tends to be a little grumpy,’ Twill said, ‘but he makes exceptionally fine jewellery. Now, since Ishifa would be terribly upset if she were not here for this, I suggest we get some refreshments organised, and then you can tell me all about your little sojourn in the demons’ world. Some of it reached our ears, but I’d like to hear the full story.’

  ~~~

  It took about an hour to go through the events of the last few months. Lily explained how she had arrived in the Demon Realm where she was taken to the city of Shilfaris to be the prisoner of Matthew Barnes, a thaumatologist and demonic pawn, who had force fed her a steady diet of demons. Lily was half demon already, her father was an incubus, and the result of Barnes’ experiment had been to make her more like a real succubus and tie her to that world so it would be harder to rescue her.

  Ishifa had sat there, entirely rapt, as Ceri had explained how she had finally worked out that Lily was alive and gone looking for her. The fairy found the entire story incredibly romantic, and the tale of how they had crossed half the continent together to reach a portal in the Castle of Bones was incredibly epic. It was, however, Twill who spoke up when Ceri told them that she had taken the crown of the Overlord of All Demons for herself to get out.

  ‘You took Gorefguhadget’s Iron Crown?!’ The little nut-brown woman was perched on Michael’s shoulder. Ishifa had looked a little shocked when Twill had simply landed there without any preliminaries, but then the stories had begun and she had forgotten the lack of decorum.

  Reaching over the side of her chair, Ceri picked up her bag, dug in it for a second, and then produced a grey metal circlet, the front of it carved with multiple, interlocking, highly intricate runes. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It’s not quite so impressive outside their world. It’s got some enchantment still and I haven’t quite worked out what it can still do, but it doesn’t give me the level of control it does there. Thank God.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Ishifa said. ‘Wouldn’t being able to control all demons be a good thing?’

  ‘No,’ Ceri said flatly.

  ‘I’m half demon,’ Lily explained, ‘and it affects me just like a full demon. She’s very scary when she’s wearing it there and I’ve got essentially no free will. My Mistress is a kind mistress, and she hates that.’

  ‘It’s not just that,’ Ceri said. ‘I mean, that was a lot of it. Can you imagine someone you love looking at you with fear in their eyes?’ Ishifa’s eyes widened; considering what a romantic she seemed to be, she clearly got the point. ‘But the other thing is… it’s such a temptation. The power. This thing gives me access to the whole magic field over there. I could do anything. I turned Molech from the most powerful demon lord in the realm into a snivelling little Devim. It was just a matter of willing it. I’ve got enough temptation with the power I have in my own right.’ There was a moment of silence since no one really knew what to say to that. Then Ceri said, ‘So, what do we actually have to do since we’re here?’

  ‘Keep me alive to get to the ceremony,’ Twill replied quite calmly. ‘Generally the position of bearer is an honorary one, like the bridesmaids you have at human weddings. They are friends of the bride who provide support and help with the stress. However, with a political match like this one, there is actually a chance you’ll need to fend off assassins.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Michael said. ‘Someone wants this wedding stopped that badly?’

  Twill sighed. ‘The Wintergreens have been a strong political family for several centuries. We rose in power through all the time honoured methods of the Seelie Court. Blackmail, intrigue, assassination, bribery, and sucking up to the right people.’ She looked over at Ishifa, perched on the mantelpiece and looking uncomfortable. ‘Oh, there was a lot of clever political manoeuvring, don’t get me wrong, but we’re like a swan. It’s all serene elegance and beauty above water, and a great deal of messy scrabbling below. Humans tend to consider fairies and sprites to be amongst the weakest of the fae, and the Sidhe tend to overlook us a lot. That gives us a huge advantage when it comes to espionage and murder.’

  ‘Most humans have never met you, Twill,’ Lily commented. ‘Look at John Radcliffe. He’s almost scared of you and he thinks you’re nothing much more than a housekeeper.’

  Twill favoured the half-succubus with a smile. ‘After putting up with you two for a couple of years, dear, a simple human detective is easy to scare. Anyway, the Darksun family are in many ways the Unseelie equivalent of the Wintergreens. They are a prominent family of sprites, many of them skilled assassins and spies…’ She paused, a sudden thought apparent on her face. ‘You do know the difference between fairies and sprites don’t you?’

  ‘Fairies won’t generally stab you in the eye because you looked at them funny?’ Ceri suggested.

  ‘Well, yes, but I meant by sight. Sprites hate being mistaken for fairies. They usually have darker wings which are flatter, and they’re a little larger. Try to avoid making the mistake, things will go a lot easier.’

  ‘I’ll try to remember,’ Michael said.

  ‘You might find it easier,’ Twill said. ‘I’m told they smell different. It’s something to do with their ability to manifest poison darts. Anyway, an alliance between the two families has been something the Wintergreens have been working on for two centuries. When Joshia and I were born a week apart my mother and his decided that we should be married to cement the alliance. We were both told we would be wed as soon as we were old enough to understand, but they had to wait until we were a reasonable age to do it.’

  ‘What does he think of it?’ Ceri asked.

  ‘Oh, like most sprites, he thinks with his genitals. The idea of having freely available fairy pussy at his disposal had him convinced as soon as his voice broke. By all accounts he should be fairly good in bed, he’s practiced on enough of the Darksun housemaids in the century I was away from here.’

  ‘Sounds like a wonderful catch,’ Lily commented sourly. ‘So who are the main contenders for causing trouble
?’

  Twill looked up at the mantle. ‘Ishifa? You’re well up on the gossip…’

  ‘Oh…’ The fairy looked a little surprised to be called on for information. She gave an embarrassed smile before going on. ‘Well, the main problem in the Seelie Court is the Summerglen family.’

  ‘Still?!’ Twill interrupted. ‘The Summerglens have been our rivals for centuries. I believe we stole some land from them once, or they stole some from us. I doubt anyone really remembers.’

  Ishifa nodded. ‘Still, Mistress. They try to stop any political advance the Wintergreens attempt. Word has it they had a five day party when you ran away. There are six of them on the guest list for the wedding, but they won’t be arriving until tomorrow, so if they try anything it’ll be very last minute. Most of the Seelie Court is fairly keen on the alliance, though there are some rumours that the House of Alberich is concerned over the power shift.’

  ‘Who are they?’ Ceri asked. ‘And what’s the difference between a house and a family? Ophelia said she was from House Silvershield and I thought it was just a family name.’

  ‘House Alberich is the main royal house,’ Twill replied. ‘Oberon and Titania belong to it. Houses are alliances of smaller families and others, usually. Ophelia joined Silvershield, I believe, because of her aptitude for diplomacy. Silvershield follows that model. Alberich is a little different since it was the family line of King Alberich originally. When Oberon ascended to the throne and married Titania, her family came under the Alberich banner, and various other strong families have joined them through other marriages.’