Faerie Wars 03 - Ruler of the Realm (8 page)

'Henry, just tell me what happened.'

Henry shifted uncomfortably. 'Well, after it came out about Mum, I went to Mr Fogarty's. I had to clean out his shed. And while I was there, Hodge appeared and he had a thing in his mouth. Like a butterfly. You know the way cats are. He'd caught it, but it wasn't dead so I tried to take if off him.' He hesitated, then added, 'That's when I saw it was a fairy.'

'You thought it was a fairy?'

'Yes.'

After a bit, Charlie said, 'Go on.'

'I suppose it was just a butterfly,' Henry said. 'But I made up this fantasy about the butterfly being a fairy prince called Pyrgus -'

'Pyrgus?' Charlie echoed.

Henry nodded.

'Did he have some other name?'

'Pyrgus Malvae,' Henry said.

'That's a butterfly name,' Charlie said. 'That's the Latin name for the grizzled skipper butterfly.'

'Is it?' Henry said, surprised. After a while he added, 'I suppose I must have known that. Subconsciously. Does a grizzled skipper have little brown spotty wings?'

Charlie nodded. 'Yes.'

Henry shook his head in wonder. 'I must have made it part of my fantasy. Grizzled skipper butterfly turns into a fairy and I give him his butterfly name.' He shook his head. 'I'm in a lot of trouble, Charlie.'

Charlie said quietly, 'I think maybe you are.'

Henry missed his last bus home.

He lived nearly four miles outside town and when he called his mum in the hope she might collect him, all he got was the answering machine (Dad's voice still on it, which was a real bummer). So now he was walking in the rain. Not that he noticed it much. All he could think of was five words out of Charlie's mouth:
'I
think maybe you are.'

Charlie was the sweetest, kindest girl he knew. If there was any way of letting him down gently, she'd have found it. But Charlie thought he was in trouble. Charlie thought - she'd put it very diplomatically -that he might need 'help'. By which she meant psychiatric help, although she never actually said psychiatrist: she said 'therapist'.

There was engine noise behind him and the approaching glow of headlights. Henry stepped on to the verge without looking round: he was wearing a light-coloured jacket so the car should have no trouble seeing him. Charlie never said 'psychiatric problem' either. She talked very gently about 'emotional pressures' and 'strain'. Just the sort of thing he'd been thinking himself. She was calm and optimistic and reassuring, the way you were supposed to be with lunatics. But the bottom line was still the same. She thought he was nutty as a fruitcake.

The car sounded like it had slowed down, but didn't seem to be passing. Henry glanced behind him.

There was a glowing silver disc hovering above the road.

It was just like the time he'd run away from his father. One minute you were minding your own business, trying to persuade the barman you were old enough to order ale. The next you were staring up at a bunch of hulking great soldiers who called you
sir
with exaggerated politeness, but were quite prepared to break your arms if you didn't do exactly what they said.

Only this time it wasn't his father who'd sent them: it was his little
sister,
for Light's sake! He'd always known being made Queen would go to her head. She was bossy enough while she was still a princess.

Pyrgus smiled at the six hulking great soldiers standing round his table at the inn and tried to sound more confident than he felt.

'Please present my compliments to Her Majesty,' he told their officer grandly, 'and inform her that I shall join her at the palace at my earliest, my
very
earliest convenience.' Even as he said it, he knew it wouldn't do.

'Beg pardon, sir,' the Captain said, 'but Her Majesty was insistent that you should come straight away, sir. We have orders to escort you, sir.' He blinked, slowly. 'Now, sir.'

Pyrgus knew what it was all about, of course. He'd already had two messages from Blue, hand delivered by an orange Trinian. The first was a friendly little note asking him to come to the palace 'to talk about something important'. When he ignored that one, the Trinian popped up again days later. This time the tone was less friendly. He was 'commanded' to attend at the palace forthwith 'to discuss matters of critical importance to the Realm'. He'd ignored that one too. It would do Blue good to realise not everybody was going to jump to attention every time she snapped her fingers. But now she'd sent the heavy squad.

He made one more try. 'If you'll just allow me to go home and change ...'he said and gestured vaguely, still smiling. 'As you can see, I'm not exactly dressed to attend a meeting at the palace.' Which was true enough. Since he'd abdicated the throne, he'd made a point of dressing like a scruff. At the moment, he was wearing a torn leather jerkin and a pair of brown breeches that would have disgraced a pig farmer. The sense of freedom was wonderful.

'Beg pardon, sir,' the Captain said, 'Her Majesty's orders said at once. Very clear she was on that point. No mention of a dress code.' He leered. 'I expect your clothes will be acceptable, sir.'

Pyrgus sighed. 'Oh, very well, Captain - I'll come with you.'

'Now, sir?'

'Right
now, Captain.'

They had a golden ouklo waiting outside. It floated at knee height for easy access and hummed a little with the excess of energy that only came with a fresh spell charge. At least Blue thought about his comfort.

The carriage bobbed like a boat as he climbed on board. To his surprise, the Captain and two of his men climbed in as well and sat facing him with stony expressions. The remaining three guards swarmed quickly up on top with the driver. The coach pulled away smoothly as soon as the door closed. Pyrgus caught the
snick
of a magical lock and smiled a little. They were taking no chance of losing him.

'Don't suppose you know what this is all about, do you?' he asked the Captain conversationally.

'No, sir, 'fraid not, sir.'

'No crises? No wars about to start? No demons on the loose?'

'Wouldn't know anything about that, sir,' the Captain said stiffly.

'No,' Pyrgus murmured. 'I don't suppose you would.' Professional soldiers never knew anything about anything. He gave up on conversation, settled back and closed his eyes.

The seats were the new spell-treated ordofoam that shaped itself to your bottom and squeezed it gently now and then to prevent discomfort on long journeys. It felt as if you were sitting on a giant hand and Pyrgus wasn't altogether sure he liked it. No matter how much he steeled himself, every squeeze came as a surprise so that he gave a small, involuntary jump. It was like having an annoying facial tic, except not on your face.

As a diversion, he glanced through the carriage window. 'This isn't the way to the palace,' he said at once.

'No, sir, indeed not, sir. That's because we're not going to the palace, sir.'

'Where
are
we going?' Pyrgus frowned.

'Not at leave to say, sir. Security, sir.'

That was typical of Blue. She was nearly as paranoid as Mr Fogarty. All the same, it had to be something pretty serious for her to want to meet him somewhere other than the palace.

A thought struck him and he asked, 'Am I the only one coming to this meeting?'

'Couldn't say, sir,' said the Captain.

The seat squeezed Pyrgus's bottom distractingly. He ignored it and looked out of the window again. Maybe he'd been a bit hasty in ignoring Blue's first messages. She might be bossy, but she wasn't stupid and she
was
Queen now, with responsibility for everything that happened in the Realm. She knew how he felt about affairs of State, so she would hardly have sent for him if it hadn't been important. The very least he could do was give her a bit of support. He scowled. Now he was feeling guilty.

The carriage, he realised, was leaving the city through Cripple's Gate. Which meant Blue had called her little meeting not just away from the palace, but away from any of the official residences. In all probability she'd hired somewhere, or, even more likely, had Madame Cardui arrange a safe house. He wondered where it was.

Nearly twenty minutes later, it turned out to be a small manor house surrounded by trees and so many security devices it was all Pyrgus could do to keep from laughing. He'd really have to talk to Blue about all this nonsense. Except the figure on the doorstep wasn't Blue.

It was Black Hairstreak.

Henry froze. This was straight out of
Close Encounters of the Third Kind.
The craft was massive - easily the size of two or three articulated trucks - and hung, humming, perhaps six feet above the surface of the road (which was vibrating just the way the ground at Mr Fogarty's had done, he thought inconsequentially). It was like the fake photographs of every flying saucer he'd ever seen - a shining metal disc with a bump on the top and light streaming down from the bottom. There was a row of small, round portholes (although he couldn't see anything through them) and above them another circle of lights. Any minute now, if this was the movies, it would put down a silvery ramp and a little green man with a big head and enormous eyes would walk out.

The saucer put down a silvery ramp and a little green man with a big head and enormous eyes walked out.

Henry tried to run, then suddenly felt very calm.

In his calm, frozen state he became very much aware of everything around him. Particularly the silence. There was no traffic noise. The little background sounds of night animals and insects had stopped. The saucer was no longer humming.

It was a beautiful saucer. Very beautiful indeed.

The little man was definitely green, but not bright green or olive green or grass green or anything like that. If you were filing a report for the police (although it was silly to think of filing a report for
anybody)
you would strictly need to say he had a greenish tint to his skin, which was otherwise grey.

The little green man turned in his direction. His eyes were very big and very black and very beautiful. If Henry looked deeply into them, he could see stars and constellations. He could see the depths of Space. The little green man began to walk in Henry's direction.

Somewhere buried deep inside the Henry who was calm there was a second Henry screaming to get out. The second Henry was in a panic, hysterical, terrified. The second Henry wanted to fight, wanted to smash the little man down, mash him into the ground underfoot like a bug (and could probably have done it too since the little man's limbs were spindly as twigs). But most of all, the second Henry wanted to run away from the little green man and the big glowing saucer as if the devil himself were after him.

Henry screamed, but no sound came out. He couldn't move. The little green man was looking at him and he was completely paralysed. It occurred to him he might be about to die.

The little green man looked deep into his eyes and climbed into his head.

It was horrible having somebody inside his head: like an insect crawling relentlessly into his ear, only worse. The little green man crawled relentlessly into Henry's mind, lifting up flaps here and there to look at Henry's private thoughts. Look, there was Henry's sister Aisling with a dagger sticking out of her head. Look, there was Blue in her bath. Look, there was Henry's mum explaining why everything she did was actually for Henry's benefit.

The little green man seemed to be looking for something. Or maybe just making sure who Henry was. He crawled and crawled and poked and prodded. Once he watched a memory of Henry sitting on the loo. There was nowhere he couldn't go, nowhere he
didn't
go.