Boots for the Gentleman (29 page)

“I don’t like this,” Reg said again, looking back the way they’d come. “Querry, I’m afraid.”

Querry turned to look down the hill. He saw nothing but a thick, gray forest. Mist obscured the tree trunks. Where he should have seen a collage of lights and rooftops, Querry found only disturbing, twisted branches reaching up out of the mist. The wood covered the ground as far as he could see, fading to blurry gray at the horizon. Neroche had vanished.

“We’re in the Other World,” he breathed, a tremor of fear shooting up his spine. Instinctively he hugged Frolic tighter to him.

“God help us,” Reg said with a trembling voice. “How in the world will we get back?”

“There’s no way back,” Querry breathed, scanning the alien landscape. “Only forward.” He took Reg’s hand and led him into the tunnels beneath the mountain. The ground sloped gently downward, and the way grew narrower and the ceilings lower as they ventured further into the bowels of the earth. Querry could see where to go, though he had no idea how he saw it. It was bright as twilight, despite the absence of torches or lamps. He felt something drawing him forward, compelling him, and decided not to share this with Reg.

Reg showed enough distress, breathing heavily and drawing, then holstering his pistols at every flickering shadow. Querry worried he would fall apart, but he had no way to assuage his friend’s worry. He remembered the first time he’d wandered into fey territory, lured by a cryptic message promising riches and glory. It had been more surreal than a dream, and every tiny detail had either distracted or terrified him. He recalled looking down at his gloved hands and trying to decide if they really existed, if his physical body really occupied space, or if it was just a projection of his mind. He knew many humans never recovered from the madness the Other World induced, and he wouldn’t forgive himself if he lost Reg to it. What good would saving Frolic do if he lost Reg?

They’d reached a staircase carved into the stone. Though Querry could see little else, an inviting, orange glow waited at the base. “Reg,” Querry urged, “feel your legs.”

“What are you on about?” Reg said with a high-pitched giggle. He twirled on the ball of his foot and then went to press his face to the tunnel wall.

“Listen to me, goddamn it! Feel your legs. They’re solid and real. Feel your toes inside your boots. Curl them around your socks. Feel it.”

“I’m floating,” Reg tittered.

“You’re not.” Querry turned, and, unable to slap Reg with Frolic in his arms, he kicked him in the shin. The glazed look departed Reg’s eyes, replaced by annoyance.

“What the hell?”

“Does it hurt? Do you feel the hurt?”

“You bet your sweet ass it hurts,” Reg said, bending down to rub his leg. “What was that for?”

“You were slipping,” Querry said, explaining as best he could. “I need you completely alert.” Reg merely looked at him with confusion. “Come on, we’re almost there. It will be fine, Reg.”

“All right.” They descended the winding steps until they found themselves within a vast room flanked by stone walls. High above them, stalactites hung like banners. As soon as they walked into the space, dozens of translucent shapes departed for the darkened edges. One figure remained: Querry’s golden-haired faerie gentleman reclined on a rocky bench covered in furs. His pointed ears jutted further from his head than Querry remembered, and his glorious mane looked uncharacteristically matted. Crumbling leaves and branches twisted among his shining tresses. He wore only a rough leather loincloth, and some dried vines wrapped his bare, slender ankles. When he noticed Querry and Reg, he sat upright, startled.

“Querrilous?” The gentleman’s voice sounded odd: timid and surprised.

“Sir!” Querry said, happier to see the other man than he wanted Reg to realize. Even so, he hurried to kneel beside his bench, Frolic still cradled in his arms. The faerie tentatively touched Querry’s hair, and, as always, Querry couldn’t resist pressing back against his fingers. “I need you,” Querry said softly. “Please help me.”

“How are you here?” the faerie asked, still petting Querry’s dark locks. “How could you make it to this place?”

“I need your help,” Querry repeated. “Please.” Querry looked into his gentleman’s wild eyes and felt like he saw the other’s true nature for the first time. He gasped in awe at both the power and the chaos radiating from the faerie’s gaze. Like nature itself, he was unknowable and indifferent, as mighty as a storm or a season. Magic shimmered in the air around Querry, and he trembled with fear. He looked down at Frolic’s face and resolved to remember his purpose, no matter what pleasant distractions the gentleman offered.

Absently toying with Querry’s curls, the faerie regarded Reg. “So this is him,” he said. “Come closer.”

Querry nodded to his companion, and Reg walked slowly toward the bench. The faerie sat up straighter to assess his face, his eyes darting back and forth over Reg’s features. Querry couldn’t fathom what went on inside his head. Finally he turned to Querry and said, “Will you trade him for my assistance, then?”

“What?” Querry spat. “No!”

“What do you offer, then? Not this broken machine!”

“Sir,” Querry breathed, trying to quelch his growing unease. The gentleman could easily keep Reg, Frolic, and himself inside the mountain. He could make them
want
to stay. Fortunately Reg hadn’t rushed forward and announced his desire to be the faerie’s prize. He wondered how he resisted it. Already pleasing possibilities insinuated themselves into Querry’s intentions. He could stay here, in this stunning ballroom with its crystal chandeliers and polished stone floor. He could recline on a velvet chaise like the one his host rested upon. What could he possibly have to fear from this beautiful gentleman, in his fine, champagne-colored suit and silk shirt? The air rippled around him, and Querry saw another image superimposed upon the scene: rough stone, fur, hair matted with leaves.

The gentleman chuckled and leaned close to Querry’s ear. “You have a little something of me inside you.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You don’t remember? I’m crushed. Nevertheless, you might as well have the rest of it.” He kissed each of Querry’s eyelids and the elaborate ballroom dissipated, leaving only the stone cavern. The faerie continued to kiss Querry’s brows and the bridge of his nose, until Reg cleared his throat dramatically behind them. Looking annoyed, the gentleman lifted his hand and pointed his long fingers at Reg. Querry broke from his thrall just in time to grab the faerie’s wrist.

“No, don’t hurt him.”

The faerie made an exasperated sound and dropped his arm. “I’m growing bored with this. If you want me to help you, then tell me what you offer in exchange.”

“Anything I have to give,” Querry said. “Name it.”

“Intriguing,” the faerie said. “I’m sure you think I’ll ask you for your body. I am, however, above purchasing affection. Your body will not be enough. I can’t think of anything just now that you could do for me, but I’ll help you if you promise me a favor in the future.”

“Querry, no,” Reg said, coming to stand beside the kneeling thief. “You absolutely cannot agree to this.”

“Reg, be quiet,” Querry warned. He knew the gentleman’s patience grew thin.

“I won’t,” Reg said. “I won’t let you agree to this. This is a deal with the devil! He could ask you for anything. What if he asks you to kill someone or steal a baby?”

“Steal a baby!” the gentleman hissed.

“Sir,” Reg said, facing the faerie and astonishing Querry with his bravery, “You must name the thing you want.”

“But I haven’t thought of it yet. How can I name it?”

“Querry needs to know what he’s agreeing to!”

“No, I don’t,” Querry said. “I agree to this bargain. If you help me bring Frolic back, I’ll do anything you ask, anytime.”

“Then I’ll do it,” the faerie beamed. “We’ll get to work straight away. Let me see what we’re looking at here.”

Querry lifted Frolic onto the bench and carefully unbuttoned his shirt. The faerie spread his fingers above the hole in Frolic’s chest and cocked his head, as if he heard faraway music. “Human magic,” he said, “but beautiful and delicate, like a woven bit of fine lace.”

“Can you recreate it?” Querry asked.

“Oh, certainly! At least, mostly. I can weave together the spell components and perform the magic. The signature of the caster is always present, though. It can’t be erased.”

“What will that mean for Frolic?”

“Well, I cannot say. I’ve never done a spell like this. It will be great fun! What a wonderful adventure we’ll have gathering the ingredients. We’ll need a bit of glass, but that’s just heated sand. And what else? I can smell the fire-flower; there aren’t many of those left in the world.”

“Will we be able to find one?”

“Certainly,” the faerie said. “There are traces of dragon’s breath.” He furrowed his brow and considered. “It’s not what I would have chosen. An elemental salamander’s heat is steadier. And what’s this? Strong human feeling? Dreams?”

“Fever dreams,” Querry told him, “and oaths spoken during love.”

“Ah! This human sorcerer was quite creative.” The gentleman stood from his bench. “Shall we be off, Mr. Knotte?”

Querry set Frolic carefully on the floor and got to his feet. “Let’s go.”

“Wait,” Reg said, causing the faerie gentleman to roll his eyes. “What about us?”

“Honestly,” the faerie said, “I think we’ll accomplish this faster on our own.”

“I don’t wish to go,” Reg said, a shiver in his voice. “But I don’t wish to stay here, either.”

“Mr. Knotte, your companion is trying my patience,” the gentleman warned.

“Please, sir, don’t you know of somewhere Reg and Frolic will be safe?”

Sighing dramatically, he inclined his head toward a passage in the stone. “Follow me.”

Querry picked Frolic up again with a grunt. He walked into darkness so complete that it seemed to have weight against his body. Reg’s hand closed around his elbow, and they slowly picked their way down the tunnel. Far in the distance, miles off, Querry saw a faint gray sparkle. He walked toward it, though he never got any nearer. He couldn’t locate his faerie host in front of him, and started to panic. “Sir?”

“Keep up,” he heard, and moved toward the sound. Before long, he could hear the swish of the gentleman’s clothing and smell the leafy scent of his hair. He tried his best to stay close to the faerie’s oddly reassuring presence, and would have taken his hand if not for Frolic in his arms. Water dripped in the distance, and from the echo Querry assumed the dark space they walked was huge, cavernous. It grew colder as they went on, and it smelled damp and musty. It felt to Querry like they walked for hours, maybe for days. Many times he wanted to stop and curl up on the floor for a nap. He willed himself on, his arms trembling under Frolic’s weight, and his legs feeling like porridge. Just to keep conscious, he turned toward Reg in the blackness. The other man moved like a sleepwalker, his hand barely clinging to Querry’s sleeve. “I say, Reg, do you remember the first time I snuck into your room at Whitney Manor?”

With a subdued chuckle, Reg said, “How could I not? One minute I was sleeping in that huge bed, surrounded by things that felt foreign and so delicate that they’d break if I breathed on them, and then there you were, perched on the windowsill. I was so grateful to see something familiar.”

“Were you? I never knew that. Because you cursed me out and demanded I leave.”

“I seem to remember allowing you to stay,” Reg said, his voice low and languid with the memory.

Querry chuckled. “I never knew they made sheets so soft until then. Your skin was better, though. Those fine soaps, I guess. You smelled so good, like lilies after a rain—”

“Enough,” the faerie spat, interrupting them. “Will you both just quiet down? We’re nearly there.”

“Nearly where?” Querry asked, his eyes adjusting to the watery, pink light that spilled in through a cleft just ahead. Swirling eddies of dry snow blew through the same opening. In spite of the chill, Querry felt relief at the sensation: cold, light, real, concrete things. He could taste the cold, coniferous air beyond, and he longed for open space fiercely and quickened his step. The company emerged from the depths of the earth on a steep slope. Deep snow covered the rock-strewn trail to a small village. Smoke curlicued from the crooked chimneys jutting through the thatch roofs. “Where are we, sir?” Querry repeated. It looked similar to the countryside around the city of his birth, and yet felt alien. Querry knew he’d come a long way from home.

The gentleman continued down the hill, his back to the rest of them. He turned onto a narrow path to the left and into a thicket of old, gray trees. As he walked briskly, kicking up powder, he said, “This is the country of Magyary, far to the east of our island home. It is a wild place, populated by spirits unknown to your people. You’ll want to take care after dark,
Reginald.
”
He stopped in front of a cottage built of logs: quaint but spacious. The house had two stories, rows of windows, and a slate roof. “This home was the refuge of a wizard banned from your country. He crossed the sea and then most of the continent, to avoid persecution from your authorities. He was a great friend to my kind. Of course, this was decades ago. I can only assume he died or moved on. Still, this house has paths leading directly to my lands, and he protected it with powerful spells. No one will trouble your friends, Mr. Knotte. Provided they don’t leave the shelter of its walls after sunset. If they are so foolish, I dare say the human’s soft flesh and sweet blood will summon all manner of demons. During the day, the creatures’ fear of my wrath will keep them off, but after dark their hunger will compel them.” He opened the door to let Reg, Querry, and Frolic inside. The house smelled of dust and disuse. “Will this suffice?” the faerie asked without attempting to mask his impatience.

“Yes,” Querry said quickly. “Thank you.”

“I don’t doubt your companion will enjoy the local cuisine. Some of the best food in the world: fresh pork and chicken, smothered in rich cream and paprika. Flaky pastries stuffed with apricot and poppy seed. The local wine is excellent as well. But enough. Querrilous, can we be off?”