Thorn Boy and Other Dreams of Dark Desire (40 page)

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Authors: Storm Constantine

Tags: #angels, #fantasy, #short stories, #storm constantine

BOOK: Thorn Boy and Other Dreams of Dark Desire
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I must
sleep now,’ I said to the queen. ‘Have your people wake me before
sundown.’

The queen bade
me sleep upon a couch in the adjoining sitting room, and here I
willed myself to refreshing sleep. At the appointed hour, a maid
shook me awake.

Calobel and
Cataban were still slumbering when I entered the room, but as the
last slanting red rays of the sun lifted from their bed to finger
the wall above, their eyes opened in unison. They looked at me
immediately, and never had I been transfixed by so dark a gaze.


Will
you tell me what you do each night?’ I asked them, and they smiled
at me like cats, secretive and deceitful.


My
lady, we sleep,’ they said. ‘We dream.’ Their voices were of
different timbres, but other than that they might have spoken
through a single, shared throat.

I had to ask a
difficult question. ‘Is your father the king?’

They nodded.
‘He is.’

They did not,
to me, appear completely human, but that might have been the
effects of the enchantment, for the moment I saw their eyes, I
could sense a hex hanging about them like an odour. They slithered
from their bed in nightshirts of soft linen that fell enchantingly
down their shoulders, revealing the milk of their flesh. At first
glance they were effeminate - and indeed their dark charms were
like those of many a sorcerous female - but I quickly realised they
were otherworldly, like elf children, sinister and deceptively
frail in appearance.


We must
eat,’ they told me, brushing past me like a storm of feathers,
towards a table by the window where various platters lay heaped
with food.


I shall
sit in this chair,’ I told them, pointing to a seat beside their
bed.


As you
wish, dear lady,’ they replied and looked at one another with a
smile.

I expected
trickery and have to confess I did not feel wholly confident. Many
had failed before me, some of whom had no doubt possessed equal
cunning to my own.

As their
mother the queen had predicted, the youths ate heartily and then
discussed what they would do for the evening. I listened to their
conversation carefully, alert for any strange nuance of tone, or
innuendo of speech. All seemed normal. They wanted to ride their
horses into the forest and even moved towards their dressing room
to equip themselves accordingly, but even before they crossed the
threshold, they began to yawn and rest their heads upon each
other’s shoulders. ‘Perhaps tomorrow,’ said Cataban. As one, they
fell onto the bed.

I stood
looking at them for some time. Their breath was even, their pose
relaxed. I must not sleep, clearly, but what bewitchments might
come stealing through the night to rob me of that resolve? I sat
down in a wide seat beside their bed, and put my chin in my hands.
The moon rose outside casting eerie shadows about the room that
moved slowly across the bed. Periodically, I arose and paced the
chamber. The air was full of expectation, as if unseen presences
stooped in the corners of the room, holding their breath. Beyond
the high windows, I heard the king’s guard intone the calls of the
watch, as the night ticked on. Presently, even that fell silent,
and it felt as if only I was awake in the entire world.
Unaccountably, my heart had begun to race. I fancied that some
unheard music vibrated the air that my ears could not detect, but
that my heart could hear. I had an urge to tap my feet, my fingers,
even though not even the whimper of a dog broke the silence of the
waiting night. Never had I felt more wide-awake.

Then, a sigh
came from the bed, and I saw the princes writhe out of sleep like
twin serpents upon a heated rock. They blinked, wiped back their
loose hair from their eyes, and stared at me inscrutably. I did not
speak, but stared back. Hadn’t my elemental told me not to speak?
They clicked their fingernails and advanced upon me.


Here,
pretty lady,’ lisped one. ‘Come stroke my hair.’

Another
slithered across the floor on his belly. ‘Are we not beautiful?
Don’t you want to touch us?’

They were
lovely, yet hideous. An invisible steam seemed to seep from their
pores that lulled the senses and brought back the most poignant
memories of joy. I lived for a moment in some idyllic summer of my
childhood, when all the world was mine and I celebrated the true,
innocent freedom that is lost to us through maturity. Oh, to taste
that emotion so many years on. It was like wine, or stronger, like
the blooms of a narcotic lotus. Now I could see how others had
failed before me. Knights had slumbered in this chamber, neglecting
their duties, but it was not a slumber of the mind. Their hearts
had leapt into the realm of dreams, and there they stayed. The room
seemed to fade before my eyes. I felt cool fingers on my knees, and
smelled a fragrance of cut grass and carnations. They wrapped me in
their hair, breathed snatches of alien words into my straining
ears. I was caught in the music of their soft laughter, drowning,
drowning.

Then they
offered to me the cup.

I saw it
hanging before me, independent of their hands: a crystal chalice
full of a deep blue liquid. ‘Drink,’ they said to me. ‘Be a child
once more and run over the endless hills. Run with the deer, the
hare. Feel the winds of immortality cut the years from your
body.’

I could smell
it: a scent like envenomed nectar. My mouth watered. I wanted it so
badly: to forget, to be back there, without scars of mind or heart
or body. I took the cup from the air, and heard them laugh.
‘Enjoy,’ they cried and I knew they were moving away from me. All
that existed was the cup, cold between my palms.

I cannot say I
think myself superior to any of those who challenged the darkness
before me. There is no doubt that many men and women of calibre had
sipped from that deadly vessel in my place, perhaps far nobler than
I: stronger, wiser and more clear-headed. Perhaps there comes a
time when a chink in the universe opens up, and a blinding clarity
comes through. It is chance, I think, not design. Whatever,
something closed my lips as my nerveless hands lifted it to my
mouth. It was as if another dwelt inside me, crying ‘no, for pity’s
sake, no!’ I wanted to drink - there is no doubt of that - and on
another night or perhaps only a few minutes earlier or later, I
would have done. But that moment was mine. Somehow I had earned it,
and the cup stayed trembling at my lips. I like to think it was the
influence of my elemental lover, calling me back from the
abyss.

Beyond the
phantom chalice, I could see, as if through a veil, the princes
standing beside their bed. One of them clapped his hands, and
slowly the bed slid to the side. The canopy above it swayed and
creaked, and an opening in the floor was revealed beneath it. The
twins paid me no more heed, perhaps seeing only the cup at my lips.
Presently, with a swish of hair and a flash of pale linen, they
disappeared into the opening in the floor. I held my breath for
fully a minute, then gently set down the chalice on the bedside
table and rose to my feet.

I was afraid,
but it would have been foolish not to be. Beneath the bed, a
stairway appeared to lead down into the deepest regions of the
castle. There was a smell of earth and a cool, damp breeze rose up
from the dark hole. Cautiously, I stepped onto the top stair. I
could sense no movement below me; the princes had descended
quickly. I imagined their feet had not touched the cold stairs:
they had glided down like phantoms. What commerce could they have
in the dungeons of their father’s domain? I shuddered, thinking of
unholy feasting and the cries of weak, dying prisoners. But the
stairs did not emerge into the filthy vault I expected - they
continued to plunge into darkness. What little moonlight had seeped
into the hole was now eclipsed. My heart hammered against my ribs,
and my eyes strained to see some glimmer of white below. On several
occasions, I paused, thinking it would be better if I retraced my
steps and sought to escape the castle undetected. Only a terrible
fate could await me here. But perhaps some lingering essence of the
princes’ charms, or a fume from the deadly chalice, encouraged me
deeper.

After what
seemed an hour of slow descent, I walked into a wall ahead. The
stairs had ended. Feeling with outstretched fingers, I encountered
to the right what appeared to be the entrance to a passageway or
room. There was in fact a door, which opened at slight pressure
from my fingers. A cold blue light engulfed me immediately, which
sent me reeling back into the stairwell. After a few moments, my
dark-adapted eyes adjusted, and I saw that a bare chamber lay
before me, lit by tall white candles, which emitted the strange
cyan radiance. At my feet lay two discarded skins; the night robes
of the princes.

Opposite me
was another door, upon which was carved the grinning head of some
otherworldly creature. I knew that whatever lay beyond that door
was personified by this carving, something bestial and corrupt. The
princes had thrown away their mundane trappings; who knows what
they had transformed into? Venturing onward might bring me to the
same conclusion experienced by all my predecessors: death or
perhaps worse. Doubt and fear yelped at my heels the entire
distance of the chamber, and then my hand was upon the door and
slowly it opened to my touch.

Beyond it lay
a vast cavern, lit by knobs of greenish yellow radiance atop carved
posts. I stood upon a stretch of black, mica-starred sand at which
lapped the sluggish waters of an oily lake. A single boat carved a
route across it; even from a distance I knew the princes sat within
it. The place was otherwise deserted. Looking up, I could see far
overhead a forest of polished stalactites.Gnarled posts of stone
rose from its waters like ancient markers. It was like the entrance
to the land of the dead.

I walked along
the shore following the direction the princes’ boat had taken,
wondering how I could possibly keep close to them. The lake was a
maze of stalagmites and I had no doubt that soon the twins would be
lost to my view. Then, rounding an outcrop of rock, I came across a
rotting jetty to which was tied a small rowboat. I exalted for only
a moment, because I soon saw that a creature clad in black rags was
crouched in the prow, its manner proprietorial. ‘Is this boat for
hire?’ I asked it.

Twiggy, clawed
fingers pushed back its tattered hood to reveal a leathery face
with only slits for a nose and a lipless mouth, rather like a bat.
Sparse hair grew along its brow. It regarded me thoughtfully for a
few moments, and then shifted restlessly upon its haunches. ‘Might
be,’ it lisped.

I offered it a
coin, which it sniffed and bit. Presently, it snuffled loudly, then
gestured at the simple bench seat in the middle of its vessel.
‘Where going?’

I climbed
aboard and pointed at the vessel on the lake, which was fast
disappearing between columns of stone. ‘To wherever that boat there
goes.’

The creature
nodded, as if this was a reasonable destination. It waved its
skinny arms in the air, and the boat launched itself from the sand.
Without the agency of oars or rudder, it began to nose its way
after the vessel ahead.

The journey
wasn’t long. After only half an hour or so, stronger light began to
show through the forest of stalagmites and eventually the pillars
of stone thinned out, until the lake was as clear and unmarked as a
black mirror. Ahead, loomed a festival of lights and music; an
island reared from the still water, and here it seemed was the
princes’ destination. I have never heard music like it, nor shall
again. It was fast and merry, yet strangely morbid; a blend of
wailing pipes and hammering drums. I could see a host of figures
cavorting about on the shore of the island. ‘What is this place?’ I
asked the creature guiding the boat. ‘Who lives there?’

It did not
seem to think there was anything amiss in me not having this
information already. There seemed little caution about strangers in
this subterranean world. ‘It is the palace of the Ambertrantes,’ it
replied.


And
what are they?’


Those
who call themselves rulers of this realm.’ The creature spat
carefully into the black waters.


You
would contest their claim?’

The creature
shrugged. ‘No. I am never invited to the island, though.’ It eyed
me beadily. ‘Perhaps you, madam, could take me with you.’


I am
not invited either,’ I replied. ‘Perhaps we should land the boat
somewhere discreet.’

Behind the
great palace lay a stretch of shadowy beach, where abandoned
gazebos fell slowly to dissolution. Several figures sat apart from
each other, their heads in their hands. They seemed not to notice
our approach. Since my guide seemed so amenable, I told it why I
was there. ‘Am I in danger here?’

It seemed not
to understand the question.


Will
the Ambertrantes or their guests hurt me?’

Again,
puzzlement.

Sighing, I
tried once more. ‘What happens here?’

The creature’s
thin mouth split into a grin. ‘Much, much. All pleasures. You will
be welcome, yes.’


Wait
for me here,’ I said. ‘And I will pay you more coins.’

The creature
nodded, its eyes glinting with greed.

So, I stepped
onto the shore, where the sand was all of crushed sapphires. The
land was lit by an eerie radiance that seemed to emanate from the
palace itself: an edifice that clawed the air, both splendid and
deformed. A hundred styles of building, from all corners of the
world, seemed to comprise its towers, walkways, domes, colonnades
and courtyards. Its walls were of polished porphyry and onyx. Silk
flags hung from poles of gold, their tassels as soft as human hair.
I heard laughter in the air, both manic and sublime. I heard the
sound of many feet running. My nostrils were assailed by a thousand
competing aromas, some exquisite, some foul. I walked up a wide
flight of steps that led from the beach. Around me, emerald green
peacocks pecked a sward of scarlet grass. One fell out of a tree as
I passed and flapped drunkenly in a swirl of shed feathers at my
feet. I saw that all the trees had trunks of gold and silver, and
their leaves were made of jewels. Lanterns swung in a breeze I
could not feel, and once a woman ran past me, arms stretched out
ahead of her, screaming in hysterical delight. No one paid me any
heed. There were too many people around for a single stranger’s
presence to make any impact, perhaps, but I sensed the elemental’s
words were correct and none could see me. Wine flowed from
fountains, down into the mouths of those who lay in the pools
beneath them. Narcotic fumes oozes from cubes of incense that
smouldered in human skulls. I saw men and women of incredible
beauty, like glaciers or naked flames. All were dancing, dancing.
As I passed into a great ballroom, lit by a hundred crimson
chandeliers, I saw then the princes I had followed. They were
dressed in indigo velvet, strung with icy diamonds. Their eyes
seemed to be filmed with milk; they danced. This was the land of
gratification. I wondered how the princes had found entrance to its
heady domain.

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