It was amazing just how long polished wood could burn. Oneentire corner of the palace had gone up in flames from Escalla’s fireball.Walking over the deserted lawns, Jus came over to the edges of the blaze. He pulled a choice coal out of the ruins of the palace and popped it into the hell hound’s mouth. Cinders mumbled happily, making contented little noises.
Polk sat beaming happily into the empty air. Jus sighed, sat down facing him, and carefully removed his protective ring. He slipped the ring onto Polk’s finger then slapped the man hard across the face.
Polk’s eyes rekindled with wits. He turned a hurt expressionon the Justicar. “Hey! Son, that hurt!”
“Good.” Jus relieved the teamster of his ring and put it backon his own hand. “You were under a charm spell.”
“Who me, son? Never! I was lulling, making a falseimpression, quieting their suspicions!” Polk swelled like a turkey in heat.“I’ve been freeing you for action. What are the faeries’ plans? Do they have aquest for us?”
“No.” Jus pulled his sword half from its sheath and inspectedthe weapon’s edge-sharp enough to shave hairs and flawlessly polished. “They’retrying to take Escalla.”
Polk stared in shock. “Will she go?”
“I don’t know.”
The thought of there being no Escalla seemed like a chunk torn out of Jus’ heart. Cinders fell quiet. Polk seemed to shrink. All threelooked over the far end of the gardens, where a distant summer house lay beneath a giant cherry tree.
Jus looked away, slamming his sword back into its sheath. Aware that hundreds of faeries spied on him from afar, he pulled Cinders into his lap and silently brushed the hell hound’s fur.
* * *
In the summer house, Escalla stood facing her mother. Theolder woman kept her hands folded in her lap, her slanted eyes cold and serene. The woman had the same thin face and long, straight golden hair as her daughter, but there the resemblance ended. Escalla was a creature of pure passion, and she paced like a leopard in a cage.
“What the hell were you thinking-that I’d be a good daughterif you asked, that I never meant to run away?” Escalla whirled in a rage. “What?Are you totally stupid!”
Escalla’s father and sister stood by the windows. Tiellelooked over at the burning north wing of the palace and smiled. “The prodigalreturns.”
“You can shut up for a start! You spend about as much time athome as I do!” Escalla flung a bitter jab at her father. “If she wants to playat being the good girl, then have that Sable idiot marry her!”
“It must be the heir.” Lord Charn paced, no longer the happyfather as he glared at his willful child. “To seal our return, we must marry ourheir into the Seelie Court.”
“I’m not doing it!” Escalla flexed her fingers as thoughwanting to choke something. “I can’t believe you thought you could round me uplike a wildcat and just marry me off!”
Escalla’s mother looked down her nose at the angry girl. “Ifnecessary, a spell might calm you.”
“Just try it!”
Lord Charn chewed his moustache. Escalla had moved to a far window where she stared angrily out at her mortal friends. The faerie lord paced toward her, raising a spell to keep away curious ears and eyes.
“Daughter, this is the marriage of dreams. Clan Sable is atthe pinnacle of the Seelie Court.”
“Well those are not my dreams!” The girl turned, andtears stood out in sharp green eyes that seemed so suddenly vulnerable. “Notmy dreams!” Tired and trapped, Escalla ran fingers over her little skull.“It’s been five years. For Erythnul’s sake, how did you find me?”
“You happened to fall in range of our scrying spells justwhen your mother needed you.” The faerie lord twiddled his fingers. “It’s a bigworld. If you wanted to stay lost, you should have kept your distance and kept your shields up.”
“I have other uses for my spells. I do stuff thesedays! Important stuff! Stuff that matters!” Escalla rubbed her eyes. “Fiveyears, Dad. Surely that was a clue that I’d gone for good.”
“A mayfly flicker.” Lord Charn waved a hand at the gardens.“Escalla, the council is almost at war over this. Clan Half Moon has convincedthe queen to reprieve us. Clan Sable is furious. When Nightshade left the court, it was Sable that seized power. By welding Sable to Nightshade, we prevent a rift in the court! It is the only way to return and bring peace!”
“Why do they want us, dad? Why now?”
“Because they need what we can do.” Lord Charn paced the roombeside his daughter. “We are the only clan with experience on the primal plane.We have spied and studied, intermingled and coexisted with the powers peculiar to this layer of the universe.”
“It sounds thin.” With the slowglass necklace clenched likebrass knuckles in her hand, Escalla turned away. “Who’s this Tarquil, anyway? Adamned duelist?”
“He’s a sorcerer and a swordsman.”
“A murderer.” Escalla tugged her clothing tight abouther little frame. “I won’t do it.”
Escalla’s father put a denser shield between himself and hiswife, then leaned quickly closer to his child. “Escalla! Your mother knowshow much you value those mortal friends of yours. You refuse to do this, and she will kill them.”
The little faerie turned pale. She swung about to face the window. Behind her, Escalla’s father hissed quietly in her ear. “Escalla, do notunderestimate your mother’s ambitions for power. The court means everything toher. Nothing else matters! If you want your friends to leave here alive, do exactly what she says. She will watch you, Escalla. Every word you say, every person you meet will be spied on. Your mother wants the Seelie Court in her hands.” Escalla’s father took the chance to kiss his daughter hurriedly on theear, fearing his wife’s ability to break his spell. “It will be all right.You’ll get used to it. I’m doing what’s best for you.”
The moment passed. As Lord Charn’s spells faded, Escallafound herself staring blankly at a windowpane. Outside in the gardens, music and laughter sounded as alien and distant as the surging of a sea. Numb, Escalla flexed her hands, her mind blank of anything except her friends. Escalla’smother waited. The girl bowed her head and looked blankly at the floor.
“I will marry Tarquil.”
Jus and Polk rose from the grass where they had sat waitingfor a long and silent hour. Finally they saw two small figures approaching them from the garden path. Dressed in sheer white lace, Tielle drifted coyly above the ground. Beside her, a little figure in mother-of-pearl silk flew in quiet misery.
Escalla landed before Jus and Polk. She wore her shimmering gray dress demurely. Her blonde hair had been pulled back, and her leathers were bundled in one hand. The girl dropped her clothes at Jus’ feet and staredpalely at the grass.
“Justicar.”
“Lady Brightflower.”
Jus’ voice was hoarse and quiet. He looked down at thedelicate little faerie before him and felt infinitely sad. Escalla curtsied to him slowly, unable to meet his eye.
“Justicar, there is a time in all lives when… when achange must come.” The girl’s voice caught in her throat. “For the good of thosewe love, we have to… to accept what has to be.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Escalla’s head bowed. A tear fell to speckle the back of onedaintily gloved hand.
“We… we have spoken of philosophy, you and I. Rememberwhat we once said about what we owe to future generations? Can you picture it clearly in your mind?”
“Yes, my lady.” The Justicar remembered. “You showed me theway that new ideas grow.”
“Then you will know how much I owe to my family and my clan.You know that I now wish to leave my life of wandering and embrace the court. I must leave you and do what is right and proper.”
Jus bowed his head and slowly closed his hands. “Yes, mylady.”
“I… I will be married in three days time. I do not thinkwe will meet again.”
Escalla jerked away and hid her face. Bored by the tedium of it all, Tielle clicked her fingers and summoned a serving girl.
“Justicar, Clan Nightshade wishes to thank and reward you foryour services as guard and guide to our daughter.” Tielle seemed in a hurry tobe elsewhere. “Escalla has indicated suitable gifts.”
The girl allowed her servant to pass out the items one by one.
“Polk. To you, we offer this magic wine bottle. Speak intothe bottle’s mouth, and it will refill itself one thousand times with whateverliquor you care to name.”
Looking desolate and appalled, Polk numbly accepted the bottle. Tielle took another gift from the serving girl behind her.
“For the hell hound, we offer this. It is a vial containingall the scents we have found in many worlds. A toy, but you may have some pleasure from it.” Escalla’s sister turned a measured glance at the Justicar.“For you, Justicar, we offer these scrolls. We are told spells are something youcan utilize. Also, Escalla says you have need of diamond dust.”
The huge man bowed slowly and said, “I thank you.”
“Escalla asks that you take her old clothes with you when yougo. She never wishes to see them again.”
Escalla slowly walked over to stand before the Justicar. Still unable to lift her face, she held out her tiny hand. “Good-bye, Justicar.”
“Good-bye, my lady.” The Justicar knelt, closed his eyes fora long moment, and quietly kissed her hand. Faerie tears stung salt into his lips. “It has been a privilege and a pleasure to serve you.” Faerie fingerssqueezed Jus’ hand. “May justice forever be yours.”
He rose and bowed. A servant held out a hand to show him to a gate that led back to the world of summer rainstorms and morning frost. Escalla turned away, unable to watch him go. One hand covered her face, and the other clutched tightly against her heart.
Dawn in the faerie lands was an arbitrary affair. If it hadbeen inconveniently pale, bright or rainy, one or more faeries would have been sure to smooth it over with illusions. The illusions were easily seen through by those who could be bothered, but few bothered. The faeries drew few lines between illusion and reality, preferring to discuss the virtues of real versus unreal for long hours over steaming cups of tea. Or possibly cups of not-tea. Illusion had a way like that.
Sitting in a room decorated for a good little daughter, Escalla propped her elbows on her knees and sighed. These were not her old rooms. Those had been turned into guest apartments long ago, and Tarquil now snored in Escalla’s old bed. Mother had created a new room for her errantdaughter, one more suitably fashioned to her image of the perfect child.
The decor was mostly fuchsia pink. Escalla felt her entire intestinal tract rebel.
She sat looking into the slowglass gem. A white wedding dress as big as a whale hung from one wall-a dress covered with seed pearls andbeautiful enough to stop any normal woman’s heart. There were paintings on thewall, real paintings. There were color shifting rugs upon the floor-unreal.The view from the windows showed any one of a dozen illusory scenes of imagined grandeur. It all had the grainy, almost greasy quality that Escalla had come to associate with all her childhood memories.
All of her memories before she escaped into the real world. .
Wearing a dress simply felt weird, but Escalla bore it. She sat staring at the fantasies conjured by the windows, until a knock at the door brought a presence sweeping into her room.
With a flurry of servants and a flutter of gorgeous wings, Cavalier Tarquil stood at the entrance of Escalla’s apartment and sank into arather oily bow.
“Brightflower Maid! How much more refreshing than the dawn isyour brilliant smile.”
Escalla rose, flipped out her wings, and made a curtsy carefully measured to keep the suitor at bay. Even so, she felt his eyes travel down her cleavage as she bowed. Escalla hissed, caught herself, and pulled part of her face into a smile.
Her mother had spies all around. A scrying spell would be on her, and there would be an invisible creature lurking in every room. In a society of shapeshifters, any object of the right size and mass was instantly suspect. Escalla had already kicked most of the furniture and felt tremors of pain in reply.
They were watching her for spells, for any attempt to escape. They would be reporting Escalla’s right behavior to a mother who was as deadlyas a dracolich. Escalla kept her face stiff and her thoughts to herself as she turned to invite the cavalier onto her balcony.
“Cavalier.”
The man had a bodyguard, a scarred duelist from his own clan that clandestinely cast a detection spell. Leading the way to the balcony, Escalla caught the motion from the corner of her eye.
“Oh, I can assure you we are being watched. There’s no pointin wasting a spell.”
“Ah, dear maid. It is not whether there is a spell, butwho has thrown the spell.” Tarquil’s voice was polished and as silky as hissilver sword. “Sad to say, a man can sometimes acquire enemies.”
Cavalier Tarquil wore twelve kill ribbons on his sleeves-mementos of duels gone by. Escalla gave a sarcastic lift of her eye andsaid, “I can’t imagine why.”
“You disapprove of dueling, dear?” Tarquil snapped hisfingers. A servant ran forward to supply him with wine. “It is a righteoussport.”
“Sport?”
“Of course.” The cavalier gave a mocking smile to Escalla.“Shall the pot call the kettle black, my dear? You have an impressive killrecord of your own-monsters, creatures, brigands. It sounds like quite thelittle crusade.”
Escalla bit back a savage reply, half turned away, then flew over the balcony railing to land in the garden. Today, her father’s gardens werea fantasy of roses. Even the grass seemed to be fashioned out of tiny little flowers, all illusory, all slightly false to an eye that loved the glorious imperfections of the real world. Escalla walked onward for a way then stood still as she felt eyes running over her from behind.
She turned and glared at the cavalier.
“Quit looking at my butt!”
“Your pardon, maid, but it is a most noteworthy rear.” Thecavalier toyed with his sword. “When my father informed me of this match, Inever once thought that it might prove to be so… beneficial.”
Escalla flicked her shirts out to hide the benefits in question.
“The benefits aren’t yours yet, bub!”
“No? A shame.” The cavalier took a swift, searching lookacross the open garden. “Shall we move into the shade?”
“You mean into cover.” Escalla looked a the man in suddenintuition. “Who’s trying to bump you off?”
“Perish the thought. A mere habitual precaution, nothingmore.”
She took him into a rose bower-a bower carefully searched byTarquil’s bodyguard before he entered. Standing in privacy with Escalla, the manvisibly relaxed. He leaned against a towering rose trunk and looked Escalla appreciatively up and down.
“A flower in the wilderness.”
“Yeah, that’s me. Bloom bloom bloom.” Escalla lifted up theslowglass necklace that hung about her throat. “This is yours?”
“Of course. Slowglass is rare. Slowglass is beautiful-almostas rare and beautiful as you.”
“Oh, your clan must want me somethin’ awful. Where the helldid you find the slowglass? This stuff is rarer than hen’s teeth.”
Tarquil twittered his fingers and replied, “Your sister foundit for me. Your family was keen to help me pursue my suit.”
“I’ll bet.”
Escalla sniffed and turned away. A moment later, she felt a very unwelcome presence behind her. Tarquil set his hands upon Escalla’s bareshoulders and leaned his face into the curtain of her hair.
“I am in your own old rooms. The mirror, the bed… placeswhere you must have dreamed so many restless adolescent dreams.” The man nuzzledat Escalla’s ear. “Dreams can be so much tastier when we snatch them secretly.Perhaps you want to sample a little piece of the cake before eating it becomes simply a duty to be done…?” Tarquil leaned much, much closer. “Your oldmirror might show you something you might like.”
He slid his hand onto her breast. In one blindingly fast movement, Escalla whirled, balled her fist, and struck him in the face-theforce enough to send him staggering.
“Touch me again, and I’ll kill you!”
With a look of private amusement on his face, Tarquil touched at his cheek. “You had best get used to it, my dear.” The faerie hissed as heprobed the bruise on his cheek “Yes, you are exactly as we thought. Howgratifying.”
In a whirl of his blue cloak, Tarquil turned and left the bower. Escalla watched him go, flexing her hands and trying to hide the fury in her eyes.
“No one touches the faerie.”
A slither in the shadows behind Escalla told her that mother’s invisible spy was still at hand. Without looking at it, Escalla angrilypicked up her skirts and passed it by.
“Go tell Mother: no free samples until the deal is signed andsealed!”
Beneath a flame tree in the gardens, Lord Faen quietly approached Lord Ushan. Ushan of Clan Sable stood stroking his chin, his eye on the distant rose bower that held his nephew and the bride to be. As Tarquil walked silkily forth, dusting at his clothes with a smile on his face, Lord Faen came to stand at Ushan’s side.
“You seem agitated, colleague.”
“New alliances always bring birthing pains.” Ushan’s flamerobes made colors dance within his quiet eyes. “Still… romance makesinteresting viewing.”
“Quite so.” Faen smoothed his goatee, his eyes on Escalla asthe girl walked disdainfully through an illusory bridge and stream. “Aninteresting creature.”
“She’s a savage.” Ushan glared at Escalla as though she werean unwanted scientific specimen. “She wallows in the real like a beast in mud.”
Faen made an exasperated sound. He turned on Ushan with his antennae held low and said, “Ushan, the drow are moving. There is a dark Seelie,my friend, a reflection of all that we are. The old court of the Queen of Wind and Woe has been approached by the dark elves, and with the dark elves comes the demon Lolth, the Spider Queen!” Faen’s voice hissed low in Ushan’s ear. “We haveenemies gathering, Ushan. We need allies on the material plane if we are to protect our flanks.”
Lord Ushan clicked his fingers. Two of his serving girls brought a sedan chair to his side.
“The Queen of Wind and Woe was once Lolth’s mistress. If wehandled the dark queen, then we can handle her pet spider well enough.”
“We did not handle the dark queen! It was Nightshade.Only they have the secret!”
“Then if we give Nightshade what they want, we can trade. Youhave made your point, Faen.” The sedan chair turned away. “The wedding willproceed. Prepare your list of which court positions you want Clan Sable to abandon to the barbarians and present it to me tonight.”
Ushan’s servants bore him off, leaving Faen standing upon theflowery grass. With an irritated sweep, Faen banished the illusion. He now stood upon honest moss, pacing up and down as he furrowed his brows.
Two days until the wedding. Faen walked and watched the Nightshade palace, his brows permanently creased into a scowl.