Descent into the Depths of the Earth (11 page)

Jus had seen the faerie cavalier before. He had worn a blue
silk cloak torn by Jus’ sword.

Beside the cavalier waited a dark haired faerie, the same
flame robed lord she had noticed in the park outside. Kneeling orc slave girls
made a bizarre, outlandish backdrop as they awaited their master’s word of
command.

Lord Charn brought Escalla forward to the flame robed man.

“Ushan, Lord Sable, I present my Eldest Daughter, Escalla
Brightflower, the Heiress Nightshade.” Escalla sniffed, looking dangerous,
disdainful, and positively alien amidst so much splendor. “Escalla, Lord Ushan
is chancellor to Queen Titania. Clan Sable is the right arm of the throne.”

Escalla shrugged. Her father happily dragged her past Lord
Ushan and into the middle of Clan Sable. The young cavalier posed, smoothing his
moustache as he awaited to greet her.

“Finally Escalla, the best comes last! This is the valiant
Tarquil, cavalier of the Order of the Sunset, scion of Clan Sable, and nephew to
Lord Ushan.”

Eagerly paternal, Lord Charn faced Escalla and Tarquil off
against one another.

“Tarquil of Sable, I present Brightflower Maid, Princess
Escalla.” The man gave a vast, expansive smile. “Your bride to be.”

It was amazing just how long polished wood could burn. One
entire corner of the palace had gone up in flames from Escalla’s fireball.
Walking over the deserted lawns, Jus came over to the edges of the blaze. He
pulled a choice coal out of the ruins of the palace and popped it into the hell
hound’s mouth. Cinders mumbled happily, making contented little noises.

Polk sat beaming happily into the empty air. Jus sighed, sat
down facing him, and carefully removed his protective ring. He slipped the ring
onto Polk’s finger then slapped the man hard across the face.

Polk’s eyes rekindled with wits. He turned a hurt expression
on the Justicar. “Hey! Son, that hurt!”

“Good.” Jus relieved the teamster of his ring and put it back
on his own hand. “You were under a charm spell.”

“Who me, son? Never! I was lulling, making a false
impression, quieting their suspicions!” Polk swelled like a turkey in heat.
“I’ve been freeing you for action. What are the faeries’ plans? Do they have a
quest for us?”

“No.” Jus pulled his sword half from its sheath and inspected
the weapon’s edge—sharp enough to shave hairs and flawlessly polished. “They’re
trying to take Escalla.”

Polk stared in shock. “Will she go?”

“I don’t know.”

The thought of there being no Escalla seemed like a chunk
torn out of Jus’ heart. Cinders fell quiet. Polk seemed to shrink. All three
looked over the far end of the gardens, where a distant summer house lay beneath
a giant cherry tree.

Jus looked away, slamming his sword back into its sheath.
Aware that hundreds of faeries spied on him from afar, he pulled Cinders into
his lap and silently brushed the hell hound’s fur.

* * *

In the summer house, Escalla stood facing her mother. The
older woman kept her hands folded in her lap, her slanted eyes cold and serene.
The woman had the same thin face and long, straight golden hair as her daughter,
but there the resemblance ended. Escalla was a creature of pure passion, and she
paced like a leopard in a cage.

“What the hell were you thinking—that I’d be a good daughter
if you asked, that I never meant to run away?” Escalla whirled in a rage. “What?
Are you totally stupid!”

Escalla’s father and sister stood by the windows. Tielle
looked over at the burning north wing of the palace and smiled. “The prodigal
returns.”

“You can shut up for a start! You spend about as much time at
home as I do!” Escalla flung a bitter jab at her father. “If she wants to play
at being the good girl, then have that Sable idiot marry
her!”

“It must be the heir.” Lord Charn paced, no longer the happy
father as he glared at his willful child. “To seal our return, we must marry our
heir into the Seelie Court.”

“I’m not doing it!” Escalla flexed her fingers as though
wanting to choke something. “I can’t believe you thought you could round me up
like a wildcat and just marry me off!”

Escalla’s mother looked down her nose at the angry girl. “If
necessary, a spell might calm you.”

“Just try it!”

Lord Charn chewed his moustache. Escalla had moved to a far
window where she stared angrily out at her mortal friends. The faerie lord paced
toward her, raising a spell to keep away curious ears and eyes.

“Daughter, this is the marriage of dreams. Clan Sable is at
the pinnacle of the Seelie Court.”

“Well those are not
my
dreams!” The girl turned, and
tears stood out in sharp green eyes that seemed so suddenly vulnerable. “Not
my
dreams!” Tired and trapped, Escalla ran fingers over her little skull.
“It’s been five years. For Erythnul’s sake, how did you find me?”

“You happened to fall in range of our scrying spells just
when your mother needed you.” The faerie lord twiddled his fingers. “It’s a big
world. If you wanted to stay lost, you should have kept your distance and kept
your shields up.”

“I have other uses for my spells. I
do
stuff these
days! Important stuff! Stuff that matters!” Escalla rubbed her eyes. “Five
years, Dad. Surely that was a clue that I’d gone for good.”

“A mayfly flicker.” Lord Charn waved a hand at the gardens.
“Escalla, the council is almost at war over this. Clan Half Moon has convinced
the queen to reprieve us. Clan Sable is furious. When Nightshade left the court,
it was Sable that seized power. By welding Sable to Nightshade, we prevent a
rift in the court! It is the only way to return and bring peace!”

“Why do they want us, dad? Why now?”

“Because they need what we can do.” Lord Charn paced the room
beside his daughter. “We are the only clan with experience on the primal plane.
We have spied and studied, intermingled and coexisted with the powers peculiar
to this layer of the universe.”

“It sounds thin.” With the slowglass necklace clenched like
brass knuckles in her hand, Escalla turned away. “Who’s this Tarquil, anyway? A
damned duelist?”

“He’s a sorcerer and a swordsman.”

“A
murderer.”
Escalla tugged her clothing tight about
her little frame. “I won’t do it.”

Escalla’s father put a denser shield between himself and his
wife, then leaned quickly closer to his child. “Escalla! Your mother
knows
how much you value those mortal friends of yours. You refuse to do this, and
she
will
kill them.”

The little faerie turned pale. She swung about to face the
window. Behind her, Escalla’s father hissed quietly in her ear. “Escalla, do not
underestimate your mother’s ambitions for power. The court means everything to
her. Nothing else matters! If you want your friends to leave here alive, do
exactly what she says. She will watch you, Escalla. Every word you say, every
person you meet will be spied on. Your mother wants the Seelie Court in her
hands.” Escalla’s father took the chance to kiss his daughter hurriedly on the
ear, fearing his wife’s ability to break his spell. “It will be all right.
You’ll get used to it. I’m doing what’s best for you.”

The moment passed. As Lord Charn’s spells faded, Escalla
found herself staring blankly at a windowpane. Outside in the gardens, music and
laughter sounded as alien and distant as the surging of a sea. Numb, Escalla
flexed her hands, her mind blank of anything except her friends. Escalla’s
mother waited. The girl bowed her head and looked blankly at the floor.

“I will marry Tarquil.”

* * *

Jus and Polk rose from the grass where they had sat waiting
for a long and silent hour. Finally they saw two small figures approaching them
from the garden path. Dressed in sheer white lace, Tielle drifted coyly above
the ground. Beside her, a little figure in mother-of-pearl silk flew in quiet
misery.

Escalla landed before Jus and Polk. She wore her shimmering
gray dress demurely. Her blonde hair had been pulled back, and her leathers were
bundled in one hand. The girl dropped her clothes at Jus’ feet and stared
palely at the grass.

“Justicar.”

“Lady Brightflower.”

Jus’ voice was hoarse and quiet. He looked down at the
delicate little faerie before him and felt infinitely sad. Escalla curtsied to
him slowly, unable to meet his eye.

“Justicar, there is a time in all lives when… when a
change must come.” The girl’s voice caught in her throat. “For the good of those
we love, we have to… to accept what has to be.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Escalla’s head bowed. A tear fell to speckle the back of one
daintily gloved hand.

“We… we have spoken of philosophy, you and I. Remember
what we once said about what we owe to future generations? Can you picture it
clearly
in your mind?”

“Yes, my lady.” The Justicar remembered. “You showed me the
way that new ideas grow.”

“Then you will know how much I owe to my family and my clan.
You know that I now wish to leave my life of wandering and embrace the court. I
must leave you and do what is right and proper.”

Jus bowed his head and slowly closed his hands. “Yes, my
lady.”

“I… I will be married in three days time. I do not think
we will meet again.”

Escalla jerked away and hid her face. Bored by the tedium of
it all, Tielle clicked her fingers and summoned a serving girl.

“Justicar, Clan Nightshade wishes to thank and reward you for
your services as guard and guide to our daughter.” Tielle seemed in a hurry to
be elsewhere. “Escalla has indicated suitable gifts.”

The girl allowed her servant to pass out the items one by
one.

“Polk. To you, we offer this magic wine bottle. Speak into
the bottle’s mouth, and it will refill itself one thousand times with whatever
liquor you care to name.”

Looking desolate and appalled, Polk numbly accepted the
bottle. Tielle took another gift from the serving girl behind her.

“For the hell hound, we offer this. It is a vial containing
all the scents we have found in many worlds. A toy, but you may have some
pleasure from it.” Escalla’s sister turned a measured glance at the Justicar.
“For you, Justicar, we offer these scrolls. We are told spells are something you
can utilize. Also, Escalla says you have need of diamond dust.”

The huge man bowed slowly and said, “I thank you.”

“Escalla asks that you take her old clothes with you when you
go. She never wishes to see them again.”

Escalla slowly walked over to stand before the Justicar.
Still unable to lift her face, she held out her tiny hand. “Good-bye, Justicar.”

“Good-bye, my lady.” The Justicar knelt, closed his eyes for
a long moment, and quietly kissed her hand. Faerie tears stung salt into his
lips. “It has been a privilege and a pleasure to serve you.” Faerie fingers
squeezed Jus’ hand. “May justice forever be yours.”

He rose and bowed. A servant held out a hand to show him to a gate that led
back to the world of summer rainstorms and morning frost. Escalla turned away,
unable to watch him go. One hand covered her face, and the other clutched
tightly against her heart.

* * *

Dawn in the faerie lands was an arbitrary affair. If it had
been inconveniently pale, bright or rainy, one or more faeries would have been
sure to smooth it over with illusions. The illusions were easily seen through by
those who could be bothered, but few bothered. The faeries drew few lines
between illusion and reality, preferring to discuss the virtues of real versus
unreal for long hours over steaming cups of tea. Or possibly cups of
not-tea.
Illusion had a way like that.

Sitting in a room decorated for a good little daughter,
Escalla propped her elbows on her knees and sighed. These were not her old
rooms. Those had been turned into guest apartments long ago, and Tarquil now
snored in Escalla’s old bed. Mother had created a new room for her errant
daughter, one more suitably fashioned to her image of the perfect child.

The decor was mostly fuchsia pink. Escalla felt her entire
intestinal tract rebel.

She sat looking into the slowglass gem. A white wedding dress
as big as a whale hung from one wall—a dress covered with seed pearls and
beautiful enough to stop any normal woman’s heart. There were paintings on the
wall,
real
paintings. There were color shifting rugs upon the floor—
unreal.
The view from the windows showed any one of a dozen illusory scenes of imagined
grandeur. It all had the grainy, almost greasy quality that Escalla had come to
associate with all her childhood memories.

All of her memories before she escaped into the real world .
. .

Wearing a dress simply felt weird, but Escalla bore it. She
sat staring at the fantasies conjured by the windows, until a knock at the door
brought a presence sweeping into her room.