Worlds Without End

13

No mortal being could have traversed the path to Lady Brane Deigh's castle. But then, it wasn't designed for mortals. The Sleagh Meath loved anything that might confuse or baffle mortals and so If took great delight in the corkscrew turns, disappear- ing paths, and other annoying tricks to fool the unwary traveler.

But I had seen all these games before. The Seelie Court was but another incarnation of something much older and more sinister. How many of them re- membered, or even knew, the full story?

Politics was a tricky business, and I'd done my best to stay out of it for most of my life. But now it seemed I had no choice. I was the only one who ap- peared to be willing to take the chance. No, I was the only one willing to see the threat of the Enemy for what it was-the ruination of the world.

I had to grasp hold of this thought because all my old fears came back to me in this place. Once I fool- ishly thought that power would protect me from harm. How I discovered the error of that belief is another tale.

For now, I kept up with Alachia's lead. She glided over the rocks as though they weren't there. Each turn was taken with a casual nonchalance, and all the while I could hear her keeping up a steady banter with Caimbeul.

I knew their history was a long one, and I won- dered if she knew how much my life had been en- twined with his. And how far back it extended. Part of me hoped she didn't know, relishing the secret. And a part wanted her to know. Wanted her to know that even when she wielded so much power that most of my people trembled before her, I had won a small victory over her.

But there was no more time to wonder over such childish things-we had reached the gate of the castle.

Alachia waved and the gates swung silently in- ward. The courtyard was bathed in the light from thousands of floating will-o'-the-wisps. They fluttered around us, rising and falling with the breeze. It was like walking through a rain of stars.

Then we were moving up the wide, white, marble steps leading to the great doors. Made of oak and tall as a two-story house, they were banded in brass in deference to the faerie hatred of iron. As the doors opened, a radiance spilled forth. I stepped into the brilliance.

The great hall of the castle dwarfed any I had seen before or since. This was no mean feat given what I've seen in my time. I could feel the magical ener- gies flowing through this place. The magic to pull Hy-Breasail from the sea, to create this castle upon it, to gather the members of faerie who still re- mained here on Earth, and to pull back those who had left for other planes. An impressive feat indeed.

At the far end of the hall, I saw a group of elves. Alachia moved toward them with her usual single- mindedness. As she approached, the group parted and allowed her to pass. I squeezed in just as they closed ranks again.

Standing at the center of all this attention was a tall elf wearing a black leather breast plate over a long white dress. Her fine hair was bobbed off short, one side shorn away so short I could see the fragile shape of her skull beneath. Her skin was the color of amber and I saw that her eyes were blue, transparent and glittering as ice. Though she was only as tall as Alachia, there emanated from her a power that I found compelling. The same sort of power that Alachia had once wielded so many lives ago.

She glanced at Alachia, then at Caimbeui, and finally, at me.

"Lady Brane, may I present Aina Sluage," said Caimbeui. Alachia shot him a hateful look, but didn't say anything.

I stepped forward, but didn't bow. Though I knew she was made as I, she was only a child compared to me. Just as I was a child compared to Alachia. And even if she did hold sway over this court, she did so at the sufferance of myself and the other Elders. So, instead of bowing, I offered her my hand. For a mo- ment, I thought she might not take it, but then her smooth, cool hand was in mine. I felt an odd shock, and then our eyes met.

Yes, she was fit to rule, I saw. Though I had abstained from participating in the new politics be- tween the Tirs, I was glad to know that there was someone strong enough to deal with whatever was to come. The only question was: Could I convince her that the threat was real?

"I have heard your name," Lady Brane said. Her voice was sweet as summer wine. "When I was younger I almost thought you were a ghost, invented to scare children."

So that was to be the way of it. Well, I'd handled worse in my time,

She released my hand, then beckoned me to her side as she turned to leave the group. I heard the murmuring of the others as we passed, but I ignored it. Alachia's face was even paler than normal and I saw her eyes narrow as we passed. Good, I thought. Let her worry a bit. I suspected the nature of the poison she had managed to spread about me while I was gone worrying about more important matters.

"You've created quite a stir," she said. "Calling up the Hunt's horses. A most impressive feat. And, from what I understand, only you and Harlequin were present."

"That is correct," I said. "There are those of us… who are of an age… who have found such things to be… within our grasp." I looked around for Caimbeui, surprised to see him hanging back. It was so unlike him.

She stared ahead, leading me toward the back of the hall. I caught the scent of her perfume. A com- plex scent: grasses, sandalwood, and a few other notes of which I couldn't be certain. Elusive.

"And why did you call the Chasse Artu?" she asked.

"I have been away a long time," I said. "I needed to find the Court."

"Yes," she replied. "I thought as much. No other way would have found us so quickly. We have been careful for a while now. But you come to us with the toss of a spell so powerful it would take half my court to cast it. I see some of what I've heard is true."

We had come to the back half of the hall. A great feast was laid out. Row after row of tables were cov- ered with white linen, fine gold eating utensils, and bone china. Garlands of flowers were swagged onto the tablecloths. Most of the tables were filled with members of the Sleagh Meath and Awakened elves.

Invisible hands served and took away platters of food and jugs of wine.

Lady Brane led me to a raised table in the center of all the others. She took a seat and motioned me to take mine next to her. As I sat down, I noticed Caimbeui finding a place down at Alachia's end of the table and I wondered how best to approach the reason for my visit. I didn't know precisely what lies Alachia had spread about me. My cup was filled with wine, and food appeared on my plate. I didn't eat. Couldn't.

Lady Brane, however, was having no such prob- lems. She drank heavily from her cup and tucked away the feast like she'd been starving for a year. All this was done with a grace and delicacy that made it look like the most delightful thing I'd ever witnessed.

"You aren't eating," she said with a little frown. "Is the food not to your liking?"

I pushed a pea with my fork and shook my head. "No, thank you. I'm not hungry. Lady Brane," I said. "I am not a threat to the Seelie Court, nor to you."

She turned and looked at me, her expression un- readable.

"And what makes you think I find you threaten- ing?" she asked.

"I just assumed that you had been told… things," I said. Good, Aina, I thought, stick your foot in it right off.

She picked up a pear and bit into it. I could smell the sweet aroma of it. It took her a few moments to finish off the pear. Daintily, she dabbed at her mouth with a napkin before speaking again.

"Yes," she said. "I have heard stories. From sev- eral sources. You have not endeared yourself to many of the Elders. But there are other, more pow- erful, voices who seem to value you. So, I decided I should see for myself what sort of creature you are."

"What sort of creature?" I said. "That hardly sounds impartial. Unlike Alachia, the politics of men have little interest for me. But your court deals with matters that do concern me. Magic and mysticism have long been intertwined for our people."

She shrugged. "Perhaps some of what I've heard does concern me," she said. "I am proud of being an elf and I am proud of our Tir. It has come to my at- tention that you have chosen others over your own kind in past disputes."

Alachia's fine Italian hand at work, no doubt.

"Yes," I said. "There was a time when I had to make that painful choice. But there were reasons for my choice and I was not the only one who made that decision. I, too, am proud of my people. But we are not perfect, nor are we always right. I am not blindly devoted to every act. And those matters have no bearing on the dangers before us now."

Lady Brane took a sip from her glass, then swirled the contents around as she stared into them.

"Yes," she said at last. "These dangers. How is it you know of them and the rest of us do not? Are you so special? So powerful?"

Yes, I wanted to say. Yes, / am special. I haven't forgotten why I am here. I haven't forgotten the past. If that makes me special, then so be it. As for power, how could I have survived for almost eight thousand years without it? But of course I said none of this. She would discover in her own time what a curse immortality was.

"Perhaps it would be easier if we were to discuss this in a less public place," I said. "There are some things that should only be spoken of in private."

"You're right," she said. "I was hoping only to come to a quick resolution of this matter."

"That is my most fervent wish," I said.

"Very well," she said. "Come with me. You, Har- lequin, Alachia, and I will discuss this matter."

I rose, and without even a backward glance at Caimbeui, I followed her from the hall. It had been a long time since I'd had to call upon the good graces of my fellow elves. I suspected the reception to what I was about to say would be chilly indeed.

She opens her eyes. Darkness suffocates her, pushing against her like an old lover. Putting her hands up, she feels the smoothness of satin. She pushes, but there is resistance. A hardness under the soft fabric.

A spell. There is light.

This is no kaer. This is a coffin.

And she's been buried alive in it.