Faerie Tale (49 page)

“Okay,” Phil said, now almost normally calm again, “now what has this to do with my son?”

“Something’s gone wrong,” answered Mark. “I still don’t know what it was or is, but somehow the rules have been changed. If I read things right, you never should have been troubled, other than maybe a little prank or two, like souring milk, things getting misplaced around the house, or weird noises at night.” He had to raise his voice as the rain picked up again, the hammering intensity causing their eyes to sting. The sound of it in the branches was like the rolling of breakers against the beach. “But things aren’t the way they’re supposed to be. At the heart of everything that’s happened is someone, or some group, who wants a return to the open warfare of ages past. That’s why they led you to the gold.”

“You mentioned that before. What about the gold?” said Phil.

“That gold wasn’t Kessler’s. It’s human gold, but it belonged to the fairies, a pledge made for ages by humans
to keep the pact. Every year a rite was conducted, and a little more gold added to the treasure, as a sign of good faith. Every ‘reservation’ has its pledge hoard. That may be where the legend of getting gold from leprechauns began. Anyway, you broke the treaty, Phil, when you removed that gold.” He held up his hand. “My college class ring is gold. We are going to hope that if I do the ritual and give them this ring, we can keep the lid on until another Magus shows up. If not.…”

“What happened in Germany at the turn of the century?” asked Phil.

Mark nodded. “Worse, I’m afraid. A thousand times worse. That was a minor conflict when the locals started worshipping the fairies because of that crazy Magus. It would have passed quickly if some of the locals hadn’t gotten into some very bizarre rites. I’ve some files that show some of the peasants were practicing human sacrifice. Anyway, if the government hadn’t jumped in and started a witch-hunt, the Magi would have hushed things up. What we’d have here would be a complete breakdown of the treaty, and I can’t begin to guess what that would mean. But even if we don’t know if some humans are involved in our world, at least we know who is responsible in this realm.”

“The Erl King?” said Phil.

“The Erl King. And he’s a thoroughly bad actor. The Irish call him the Fool and he’s known by other names, but he’s the one. He’s the best candidate to resent the confinement to the lands ceded by the pact.” After a moment of silence he said, “I don’t know how he did it, but I
know
he’s responsible for the accident that killed Aggie. And the fact he knew Erhardt was coming shows he has some means of communication with someone who knows what the Magi are doing.”

Phil felt despair threatening to overwhelm him. He said, “How the hell are we going to do anything in, what, fifteen minutes?”

“We’ve just got to be outside that hill at midnight. If what I think is going to happen happens, then we don’t
need to get there any earlier. But heaven help the world if we’re a moment late.”

Phil silently followed Mark. Suddenly the world had become an impossibly alien and frightening place.

Sean felt fatigue dogging his heels as he followed after the ball of light. He was still alert, but the steady, uneventful trek through the woodlands had diminished his anxiety. Around him the alien, murky woods were somehow not frightening, just strange. The trees were … weird was the only word Sean could think of. The trees were slender, delicate things, swaying gently in the light breeze, their murky colors giving the branches the illusion of transparency. No, this place was weird, but not really scary. He knew he would be tested when he reached Patrick’s place of confinement, and that prospect frightened him, but he still was only eight and a half years old and it was past his bedtime and he was too tired for worry.

Sean halted. In harmony to the humming of the breeze through the branches, he heard music. He resumed walking, and as he followed the globe of light he heard the music grow louder. It was pipes and harps and bells and tinny-sounding drums. The road entered a clearing and Sean’s eyes widened in astonishment as he saw what at first he took to be Erl King Hill before him. A quick glance about told him the resemblance was only that, for the trees on all sides were unlike any seen in New York State.

But the crest of the hill was alive with moving figures, where men and women of alien beauty danced before a throne. The woman upon the throne was a striking figure, erect and proud as well as lithe and beautiful. All around her glowed a light, crowning the hilltop with a blue-white nimbus that illuminated all around her. In the halflight of this land, the hilltop was an isle of lights. The
golden ball of light moved down the road past the merrymakers, but the woman upon the throne waved her hand and the light veered toward her.

Sean hesitated, then followed the light up the hill. The dancing halted and the music faded away as Sean passed between the revelers. Atop the hill it was still twilight, but much brighter than it had been upon the road.

The woman upon the throne was stunning. Her red-gold hair was swept back from a high forehead, held in place by a golden circlet. Her gown was filmy, revealing a full bosom. Her neck and arms were graceful and without blemish. Sean couldn’t be sure, but either she had some weird things on the back of her dress or she had translucent wings! She smiled and Sean felt no hint of fear. Pale blue eyes regarded him as a musical contralto said, “A little mortal boy! What brings you upon the heels of the Quest Guide, small, pretty one? Have you come to brighten our court with your sweet smile?” She bent forward and reached to cup Sean’s chin with her hand. Her fingers recoiled as they touched his skin, “You wear a ward! You must remove it.”

Sean looked about. Near the base of the throne were tiny beings, all whispering and pointing at Sean. Several diminutive creatures flew in circles around the throne area, though it seemed they were cautious not to fly directly above the stunning woman. Near her stood several alien men, all beautiful, slender creatures. A short distance away, many lovely women also waited silently. Both sexes were dressed in all manner of fashions, as had been the green people, from near nudity to ornate, ponderous costumes. These people had skin tones that were more human, however. Sean wondered why this lady had only men near her, but shrugged off the thought as he considered doing what the woman said.

Behind the throne stood a man of middle years, clearly human while the others were not. He wore a splendid tunic of fine weave, silver threads bedecking a green cloth. Gems and pearls were sewn into the collar, giving him a regal look, though he was but a shadow to the light
of the woman. Barely, so the others wouldn’t notice, he shook his head no.

Sean glanced about, while the beautiful woman said, “Come, little one. Stay with us and dance and sing. We shall regale you with food and drink, and you shall be a pretty page in our service.” With a sensual smile she said, “You will learn pleasures undreamed of by your race, pretty human boy.…” She measured his size, then added, “… when you are a little older.”

Sean took a deep breath. There was some quality about the woman that made him uneasy. Not that she wasn’t pretty or nice. There was none of the feeling of danger or terror that had accompanied his encounters with the Bad Thing and the Shining Man. But in the spice and wildflower scent in the air and the intoxicating music and the powerful allure of the woman there was. a quality that made Sean uncomfortable, causing his pulse to race. He vaguely recognized it as something he had felt in a milder way once when a girl at his old school had kissed him at a birthday party. He had made a display of displeasure, but he had secretly wanted to try it again, yet he hadn’t said anything lest the other boys pick on him. He had also felt the same discomfort another time when he had barged into the bathroom and caught sight of Gabbie drying herself off after a shower. He had been haunted by the memory of her naked body still damp and pink from the hot water for days after, and had wished he could have stayed there, just to watch her. He didn’t know why. With her clothes on, Gabbie was just another dumb girl, except when she was teaching the boys to ride. It had been as if he had seen a hint of something he would understand when he was older, something that now only confused him. It was a powerful, distressing, yet compelling urge, which disturbed Sean greatly and made him feel guilty, though of what he couldn’t say. Putting aside the churning sensation of discomfort in his stomach, Sean said, “I’ve come to find my brother.”

The woman’s smile faded to a look of true regret. “You refuse our offer of hospitality?” She almost pouted.

“I’ve got to find my brother,” Sean repeated.

With a sigh of resignation, the woman said, “How then did you come to our land, pretty mortal boy?”

“Barney told me to walk around the hill nine times, and through the cave. He told me how to get the light to take me to Patrick.”

“And how did your brother, Patrick, come here?”

“The Shining Man took him.”

The woman’s face lost its warmth, and her eyes became electric, and suddenly the feeling Sean had of wanting to climb into her lap and nestle his head on her bosom vanished. The woman’s voice had an angry edge to it, a harsh quality like a shrieking trumpet that made Sean shiver as she said, “Tell me of this Shining Man!”

Sean described the encounter with the Shining Man and the Bad Thing and the false Patrick and Sean, and when he was done, the woman said, “That one has tried our patience long enough. Listen well, boy on a quest. When you find your brother, your path back will lie along two routes; which, you must choose. Bring him back by the white path, so that I may have an accounting of this business and your brother and yourself may return home. Avoid the black path.”

Sean recalled Barney’s warning. Softly, so as not to offend the great lady, he said, “I just want my brother back.” Sean considered, then said, “Can’t you get him for me?”

“Here in the Bright Lands we rule, mortal boy. But know that in the mortal world and in the Shadow Lands he and we are equals, and in the Dark Lands the one you call the Shining Man is supreme, and there must we fear him. You must bring him to us,” the woman said, “here into the Bright Lands, so that we may deal with him. In any other place, the issue would be in doubt. Do this and we shall return you and your brother safely home. That is our word on the subject.”

Sean watched the glowing ball, which seemed to wiggle impatiently. He didn’t want to lie to the woman, but Barney said not to trust anyone. Then he glanced at the man. He seemed sad, but he smiled slightly and nodded yes.

Making himself bold, Sean said, “Are you True Tom?”

The man said, “So I am called by some.” His accent was thick and made his words hard to understand, but Sean remembered Barney saying Tom was a Scotsman.

The woman said, “He is of your race, though long have we kept him with us”—she smiled warmly up at him—“occasionally against our better judgment.” To Sean she said, “But he is loved here and is loyal to us.”

Sean said, “I’ll come back with Patrick. You’ll let us go home?”

The woman laughed, and again her voice was soft, like a singing harp, as she said, “Yes, brave boy, we shall let you and your brother go home. But first you must find the one you call the Shining Man and retrieve your brother. Then you must return to us, but be wary: To reach that one’s court you must pass through the Hall of Ancient Seasons. Avoid all doors save those at the ends and you will be safe. And you must guard against trickery. Then must you be quickly back, for our court and that one’s will be moved this night upon your world, and you will be a long way from your home. Go, then.”

With a wave of her hand, she released the Quest Guide, as she had called the globe of light, and it shot down the hill toward the white path. Sean scrambled after, afraid the thing would leave him far behind, but once upon the path, the light resumed its lazy dance from side to side as it moved down the path. Sean took a deep breath to steel himself and followed after. Within a few minutes, Sean noticed that the path beneath his feet had turned from off-white to a neutral grey. And the sky above him was getting darker. Pushing back encroaching fear, he trudged on.

The woods were getting darker, but had none of the foreboding aspect Sean would have expected from the deepening shadows. There was simply less light. They followed a path by a bubbling brook, and Sean cast an eye toward the Quest Guide. It was still doing its mindless weaving dance from side to side on the road, so he could easily catch up with it if he didn’t let it get too far ahead. He hurried to the brook and knelt down to drink.

Sean’s lips touched the water and he drank quickly. Abruptly an image manifested itself before him. His head jerked away from the face in the water. He glanced about and was certain there could be no one swimming in the stream. It was only a few feet across and certainly only inches deep. He peered over the edge and again was struck by the certainty this place was not like home. The surface of the water was only a plane between where he was and another realm, a turquoise and green world of oceans and lakes. He moved a little closer to the water and regarded the face below the surface. It was a woman’s face, or so Sean thought, and it seemed to hover scant inches below the surface. Her skin was pale blue, and, dimly below, he could see a fish’s tail, covered with bluish scales, where legs should be. He could see she was nude and from the waist up normally formed; in fact—if Sean could judge such things—she was beautiful, with large breasts, a lovely line to her neck, and slender arms that moved gracefully in counterpoint to the lazy movement of her tail. Her black hair spread out around her head like a nimbus of dark and feathery silk threads, and her lips, more purple than red, were set in a smile. Her face was humanlike, save her eyes, which were entirely black, showing neither iris nor sclera. She seemed to wave at Sean, beckoning him to come into the water. Below her, Sean could see into the depths. The view was
like the time his parents took Patrick and him to Catalina and they went on the glass-bottomed boat. From the blue murk of the ocean floor mighty spires of coral rose, and Sean suddenly understood they weren’t natural spikes, but rather hugh spires of some city rearing high above the ocean floor.