The Fire King (14 page)

“‘And then one day I came back from my travels to Europe and discovered that there were no more of us left. I was the last member of the Invisible Order. I wasted no time. I moved all of our books and manuscripts out of Gresham College.

“‘Once I had secured our archives I carried on with my research into the Raven King. I searched through our own files but could find no proof of his existence anywhere. I'm sure it exists, though. There have always been rumors that there is a second library, a library hidden away and stocked with books handpicked by Merlin the Enchanter. But no one knows where that library is.

“‘Having exhausted our own archives and finding absolutely nothing, I had to use other means of finding out about the Raven King. It was a dangerous year for me. Through magic, I became that which I had spent my life fighting. I allied myself with fey who cared not for the politics of Titania and her enemies, but who were only interested in gold and trinkets. I traveled far and wide, all in my search for this elusive Raven King. I found … hints and whispers. Nothing more than legends, really, all things that the fey already knew.

“‘To put it simply, the Raven King is the soul of London.

The holder of the city's dreams and nightmares. He is the King of Dreams, the protector of the bones of the city. As long as the Raven King lives, then London, and by extension Britain, is protected from the fey. This is why they want to find him. They are terrified of him. They have all sorts of legends and folktales about him. They think that if they make a move that will put London under threat, then this Raven King will awaken into his power and destroy them all.

“‘But according to these legends, the Raven King doesn't even know who he is. Like King Arthur, who is supposed to return to Britain in her hour of need, so the Raven King will only awaken into his power when Britain is in desperate danger. But no one knows
how
that power will be woken. For all I know,
I
could be the Raven King. It could be anyone. That is why they search for him. They fear this unknown man, fear his power, power he does not even know he has.

“‘But I think I am close to finding something out about our elusive King. I have a contact who has set up an appointment with a fey called Croth. I see him tomorrow night. My contact says there is a chance someone called the Prophet may be able to help, and that this Croth can put me in contact with him. I only hope this is true. Because after this, all my leads are finished. If this fails, the only thing to do is sit back and wait for the fey to make their move, hoping this Raven King will wake up. But I fear by then it will be too late.'”

Wren stopped reading. He paged forward, then looked at the others. “That is all. The last entry was dated yesterday.”

The lantern light guttered slightly, as if blown on a breeze. Katerina shifted her weight, leaning against a table. “So Kelindria and the others want to kill this Raven King before they make their move? Before he wakes into his power. So that he can't do anything to stop them?”

“According to Cavanagh, yes,” said Wren. “And from what's written in this book, that's the last thing that must happen,” said Wren. “It seems as though the fate of Britain lies in the hands of someone who does not even know of his potential.”

“Probably safer that way,” said Jack. “If he doesn't know who he is, there's less chance the fey will know. He should just be left to do whatever it is he does.”

“No,” said William sharply. Everyone turned to look at him. “Think about it.
We
need to find him. Before the fey do. If he's as powerful as these legends say, he could help us. He could stop the fey. Stop the
fire
. And maybe we could take him back to our time. He could get rid of the Faerie Queen there as well. He could be the answer to all our troubles.”

“I don't think that's the best path, Will,” said Emily.

Will glared at her. “Why am I not surprised? Come on then, O great leader. What do you think we should do?”

“We should find Merlin.”

“Oh, yes. Simple,” said Will sarcastically. “Except for the fact that no one knows where he is.”

“No one knows where the Raven King is, either,” Emily pointed out.

“But Cavanagh had
leads
. We can meet with this Croth, find out who this Prophet is.”

“And then what? Even if this Croth knows where the Prophet is, we still have to find him. And then we have to ask him for help. Which he might not give. And we would still be no closer to finding the Raven King. And even if we
do
find him, how are we supposed to ‘awaken his power' or whatever Cavanagh said? Do you know how? Because I certainly don't.” Emily paused and took a deep breath to calm herself.

“But if we focus on finding Merlin, we can find out where he hid those books Cavanagh mentioned. Actually, I doubt we'd even
need
the books. Merlin will probably know how to track down the Raven King using his magic. We find Merlin, he finds the Raven King, we stop the fey. Remember, Will, Merlin said that I helped him, that we had met before. That means we
must
have found him, must have rescued him from wherever he's being held prisoner.”

“You can't just jump to that kind of conclusion!” protested Will. “Who knows
when
Merlin turns up? Right now we are two hundred years in the past. And this happened just because we traveled through a fey gate. Who's to say what will happen if we use one again? Who's to say you don't meet Merlin a thousand years ago? Or five hundred? Why do you think it has to be now?”

Emily paused. She hadn't thought about that. If they skipped back through centuries once before, who's to say it
wouldn't
happen again. In fact … hadn't Merlin said something about her meeting King Arthur? She'd thought he was playing a joke on her, but …

What if he wasn't?

She thought about it some more. And what
if
he wasn't? It didn't change anything right now. They didn't know enough about this Raven King to go seeking him out. He might not even exist. They had no proof.

On the other hand, they
did
know that Merlin existed. She had met him, after all.

She looked at the others. Will was sullenly rooting about in Cavanagh's desk. Jack was idly inspecting an old candlestick. Wren was paging through the diary, perhaps searching for some other clues. Katerina looked at her but simply shrugged. There was no help here.

Nobody here was going to be any help.

She needed to speak to Corrigan. Emily headed for the stairs, and William shouted after her.

“Why do you have to be right all the time? Can't you accept the fact that someone else might have a good idea besides you? It doesn't make you any weaker you know.”

Emily ignored him and kept on walking.

After Emily had explained what they had found in Cavanagh's diary, the piskie folded his arms thoughtfully, leaned back, and stared up at the night sky.

“So have you ever heard of this Raven King?” Emily prompted.

“No,” Corrigan replied. “Not a thing.”

“So do you think we should concentrate on finding Merlin?”

“I didn't say that, either. Merlin is a pain in the backside. A silly old man who allowed himself to get tricked by a pretty face. He should have known better.”

“Maybe he really loved her,” said Emily softly.

Corrigan made a disgusted sound that admirably conveyed his feelings about love.

“I don't suppose you happen to know where he is?” Emily asked hopefully. After all, it was the fey who had captured Merlin in the first place.

“No,” said Corrigan, quashing Emily's hopes. “And even if I did, how do you think you'd go about rescuing him? You wouldn't be able to stroll in and open the door. He'll be hidden away. There will be guardians, magical traps, all kinds of fail-safes.”

Emily felt her hopes fading. “We have to do
something
. This Fire King is going to try to destroy London. And you said there will be a war. A … a war of the races. We can't have that knowledge and simply do nothing! Maybe we can stop it! Stop the war from happening. Stop the fire.”

“And you think finding Merlin is the answer to all that?” “It's a start!” Emily snapped. “Didn't you lose anyone you knew during this war? Don't you want to try and stop that?”

A cloud passed briefly across Corrigan's face. He sighed, then glanced around the nighttime streets. “Fine,” he said. “I'm not saying it will work, but if you're set on finding the old fool, then we should start by tracking down Nimue.”

“Who's that?”

“She's the fey who trapped him in the first place.”

“The one he fell in love with?” asked Emily excitedly. “Do you know where she is?”

“No. But I know someone who might. A fey called Beezle. He's what you might call an information broker. Lives out on London Bridge.”

“And he'll help us?”

“Depends on his mood. He's a bit on the … dishonest side, so you'll have to let me deal with him.”

“I'm sure the two of you must get on splendidly,” said Emily.

Corrigan opened his mouth to reply, then frowned angrily. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing at all.”

“Hmm.”

A thought suddenly occurred to Emily. “How can you know about this Beezle?” she asked. “I thought the you in the past wasn't here right now.” Emily ran the sentence back through her head to make sure it made sense.

“I wasn't. But he was. And still is. In your time, I mean. He comes and goes, but he always ends up back at his shop on London Bridge. Can't leave it behind. Let's just hope this is one of the times he's there.”

“When should we go? How do we get there?”

“Same way everyone gets there. Head out to the gate and say the password:
Ansible Cru
.” Corrigan squinted up at the moon. “The bridge only picks up after midnight. So there's more chance he'll be there then. I suggest you try and catch a few winks of sleep while you can.”

Emily nodded and stood up. William wasn't going to like any of this, but he'd just have to understand it was the most logical decision to make. Finding Merlin was the answer. She was sure of it.

After all, she'd done it before. She was sure she could do it again.

C
HAPTER
E
LEVEN

In which Kelindria summons the Fire King. The Second War of the races is set in motion.

T
he Morrigan's ravens were restless.

They picked up on Kelindria's pensive mood, ruffling their feathers and cawing softly in the dimness. Kelindria sat on her throne, listening to the birds and staring absently at the flames as they burned in the fire pit in the center of the room. Something had changed. A new element had entered the picture, and it was in danger of unraveling all her plans. Plans she had been nurturing and tending for years.
Decades
. It all seemed connected to the appearance of this girl. Who was she? Where had she come from? It was as if she had simply appeared out of thin air, intent on causing havoc.

The second key was what bothered Kelindria. It simply should not exist. There was only one key. Everyone knew that. And the Queen of the Faeries (whoever it was that currently held the title) controlled it. It was the way it had always been.

Kelindria's thoughts circled back to her first suspicions regarding this supposed key. Was it, after all, a trap? Had Titania finally grown a backbone and decided to put a stop to Kelindria, proof or no proof?

But no, Kelindria's instinct told her this wasn't so. It wasn't Titania's style.

So back to the question at hand. Who was this … this
girl
? And what did she want?

She sensed the Sluagh shifting in the garden outside. She closed her eyes and concentrated, looking through the creature's eyes. It was that idiot Barnaby again. She sighed and briefly toyed with the idea of letting the Sluagh take him, but she resisted the temptation. He may still have some uses.

She ordered the Sluagh to let him enter.

She didn't have to wait long. Barnaby came running into her presence, disheveled and sweating. His eyes were wide and darting as he stumbled to a stop in front of her.

“He's dead. They … they killed him! Shot him—”

“Stop talking!” thundered Kelindria.

Barnaby started, then visibly tried to calm himself down.

“Now begin again. Who is dead?”

“The Black Knight.”

Kelindria thought for a moment that she had heard wrong. “The Black Knight? The Morrigan's warrior?”

Barnaby gulped down a breath and nodded.

“How?”

“It was Wren. And the children. And Cavanagh.”

“Talk sense!” Kelindria shouted.

Barnaby drew a deep breath. “I took the Black Knight to Wren, as you ordered. But Cavanagh was with him.”

“Who is this Cavanagh?”

“Someone from the college. I never suspected him of being a member of the Invisible Order. I didn't see his name anywhere, and he was always away … But he was there with Wren. He helped him escape. He wounded the knight in a fight, and then Wren and the children finished him off. He's gone.”

“These children. Was the girl there again?”

“Yes. And … and that's not all.”

Kelindria knew that whatever she was about to hear would be bad. “Speak,” she ordered.

“I heard them talk about the Raven King. I couldn't hear what was said, but I definitely heard them mention it. More than once.”

Kelindria sat back in her throne. This was … distressing news. Most distressing. Catastrophic, one might say.

“Is that all?”

“I think so, milady. What should I do?”

“What do I care?” she snapped. “Just leave me to think.”

Barnaby scurried from the room while Kelindria sank deeper into thought. Her plans were in very real danger of coming undone. If she didn't do something drastic, her window of opportunity would be gone. Did these children have something to do with the Raven King? What about this Christopher Wren? Was
he
perhaps the Raven King?

Kelindria slapped the arms of her throne in frustration. She wasn't ready for this right now! Her plans were supposed to carry on for another decade or so. Only then had she intended on making her move. She didn't have enough followers. She
certainly
didn't have enough allies.

Unless …

She stood up and slowly approached the fire in the center of the room, staring deep into the flames. Dare she?

But no, such a thing was madness. When she had raised the subject to the Dagda, he had told her in no uncertain terms that to do such a thing would incur his wrath and break their partnership.

But maybe she wouldn't need him anymore. If she did this, she would have the power all to herself.

Say it, she told herself. Say what you are thinking of doing.

To summon the Fire King.

The wood shifted in the pit, the flames dancing higher as if in response to her thoughts.

It was the Morrigan who had first told her about him. An elemental lord. Not from here. Not from Faerie. But from somewhere in between. A place of molten rocks and fierce heat. An elemental being that hungered to devour.

She'd had many dreams about this being. To scour the whole of Britain clean. To wipe everything away and start again. And this time
she
could lay the first stone that claimed London. It wouldn't be Merlin and his Invisible Order. It wouldn't be like the last time. No, this time round it would be the
humans
hiding away in their little groups, living underground like animals. Not the fey. The fey would rule from above. The fey would rule the whole land.

And she, Kelindria, would be Queen.

The flames mesmerized her, drew her in. She could feel the heat on her face. Should she just do it? She had the power. After the Morrigan had told her about the Fire King, Kelindria had searched through the ancient lore until she found out how to do the summoning.

But some fey would die as well. She could tell the Fire King not to harm them, but from what the Morrigan had said, he was hard to control. Once he started feeding, once the flames started spreading, would he hold true to their agreement?

But not
all
the fey would die. Most of them would head underground. And besides, when she was Queen, she would control the key. She could open the gates and allow more fey to come from Faerie. Most of the humans, on the other hand, would perish.

Almost of its own volition, Kelindria's hand slipped into a pouch and withdrew a small, round stone. It was a dull black in color, surprisingly heavy for something so small. When the light shifted, tiny red sparks shimmered across its surface.

Afterward, she was never really sure if she had made a conscious choice, or if the stone had simply slipped from her hand. Either way, it dropped heavily into the flames, sending a shower of sparks drifting up into the air.

At first, nothing happened. But then Kelindria saw that the flames were drawn to the stone, wrapping around it like nurturing hands.

Kelindria waited. After a while, a sharp crack echoed through the room, and the stone split in two. Kelindria leaned closer and saw a lizardlike creature curled up inside one of the halves. Flames crawled across its skin. It flickered orange and red, like the embers in the fire. Then it jerked, and unfurled, crawling sluggishly out of the stone.

A salamander,
thought Kelindria, watching the little lizard burrow deep into the flames. It lay basking in the heat, then it burrowed deeper into the ash and embers and simply disappeared.

Kelindria frowned. She used her dagger to push the wood around in the fire pit, but the salamander had vanished. She straightened up and looked around her chamber. Where had it gone?

There was a sudden roaring sound, and Kelindria felt a flare of intense heat against her face. She stumbled back and turned around to find the flames in the fire pit soaring high up to the roof. The flames were brighter now, almost white hot. She raised a hand to shield herself, squinting against the glare and the heat. The flames were rushing upward as if blown by a terrific wind, and in the center of this maelstrom was the outline of a fiery figure.

It was humanoid. But only just. Its face was long, its eyes dark pits of red heat that stared silently at Kelindria.

The heat was intense. Kelindria opened her mouth to speak, but the air was burned from her lungs. She had to step farther away from the fire.

“Greetings, Fire King,” she began. “I've summoned—”

You have not summoned me. I came of my own volition,
said the Fire King. The words crackled and roared, as if the flames themselves were doing the talking. The words sent heat shimmers into the air between herself and the Fire King.

“Of course,” Kelindria said. “May I present my offer to you?”

I know of your offer. You wish me to burn this city from the earth. You want to be rid of the human animals.

Kelindria didn't ask how he knew such things.

The question I ask, is what can you offer me?

Kelindria frowned. “I offer you food, I offer you London. I offer you Britain. To wipe all clean so that a new growth can begin through the ashes.”

You misunderstand. That is my prize. But what I am asking now is what
you
offer me. I desire something from
you
.

“What? What do you desire?”

Something precious. I demand a tithe. You must sacrifice that which is most precious to you.

“But why? I am giving you Britain. You can only come through if I summon you. Why should you need anything more?”

Because I am the Fire King! Because it is my whim. Now. Do you agree?

Kelindria stared at the flames thoughtfully. What choice did she have? It seemed that to complete this transaction she would have to hand over extra payment. Unexpected, but not something she was about to let deter her. Not now she had gone so far.

“What do you require? Gold? Sacrifices?”

Just tell me whether you agree to my terms.

“Fine. I agree.”

Kelindria thought she saw the mouth on the Fire King part in a smile. A glowing red hole gaped in the white hot mass.

Good
.

And then Kelindria felt a prickling in her hands. She looked down and for a moment saw nothing unusual. Then a faint cobweb of lines appeared on her fingers. She lifted her hands to her eyes. As she did so, the faint lines grew deeper, wider, the pale flawlessness of her skin sucked away and replaced by wrinkles.

“No!” Not that. Anything else, but not that.

She turned and staggered back to her throne. The white ravens flew away from her in a panic, roosting high in the rafters. Kelindria fumbled for her looking glass, almost dropping it when she saw her nails growing long and yellow, her fingers shrinking to withered twigs.

She lifted the looking glass to her face. Except it wasn't her face anymore. As she watched, her hair lost its lustrous red sheen and faded to dull white. Her face caved in before her eyes, her cheeks becoming dark hollows, her once glowing eyes becoming tired, surrounded by wrinkles and black shadows.

The Fire King had taken the one thing she treasured more than anything else.