For Whom the Wedding Bells Toll

The Eleventh Thaumatology Novel

By Niall Teasdale

Copyright 2012 Niall Teasdale

Amazon Kindle Edition

Contents

Preface

Part One: The Spring Bride

Interlude

Part Two: Never Make Deals with Fae

Interlude

Part Three: Discord

Interlude

Part Four: Morrigan’s Daughters

Interlude

Part Five: Hieros Gamos

Preface

Kennington, London, June 27th, 2007

The earthworm squirmed in the grip of something invisible, but far more powerful than it was, twisting and writhing as it was pulled slowly, inexorably, from the ground beneath a small privet bush. Gloriandel swept forward on bright, blue-white wings and ran her hunting sword through its primary neuron cluster. The writhing grew more violent for a second, but the fairy’s telekinesis was very strong and she had no trouble holding it. Two more violent stabs of the hatpin-sized weapon and the thrashing slowed and then ceased.

The worms at home were considerably sweeter than the ones she caught here, but she was used to the taste now. She had been eating them for almost half her life and had figured out long ago the best way to season them. A little magic was all it took and they made an acceptable breakfast. Occasionally she allowed herself a wistful wish to be able to hunt on her family’s lands where the meat was far more succulent, but that was out of the question so she made do with what she had. That was especially the case now, when she had almost let herself get caught.

In retrospect, coming to London had been a bad idea. There were far too many fae here, Seelie and Unseelie, and unaligned. The latter were not so bad, but she could not really trust them. Even if they were unlikely to report her immediately they might sell her out. She needed somewhere to hide for a while. Just a while. Somewhere she could lick her wounds. The park had made a useful place for the night, but she needed to move on before anyone managed to track her down.

Dropping the remains of the worm on the grass where some lucky bird might finish it off, she wrapped herself in the veil of obscurity which all fairies could generate and flew off toward the eastern side of the park. She would head out and then south, maybe make her way down to the sea. Perhaps she could find a cave or something to hide in at the coast… Then she saw the house.

It was three storeys high, plus an attic, plus a flat roof with a waist-high railing around the edge. A gothic sort of building which, at first glance, seemed to be unused. The windows had cobwebs in them, several of the panes were broken. The paintwork had seen far better days, and some of the good paint appeared to be resting on rotten wood. But then there was the high, wooden fence around the property, which looked to be in perfect condition, and the garden, which was not well kept, but also not overgrown. This house was something of a curiosity.

She felt the wards along the line of the fence as she flew over it. They had once been very strong, but they had not been maintained in a long time and they were weakening. That was a plus in the “disused column.” She was sure these wards would have allowed her through anyway; they felt like a first line of defence, something to keep out direct threats, and small animals who might make a mess on the lawn. Then there was the big minus in her thoughts that the place was unoccupied; she could hear voices from above.

Rising up, she passed a window and realised almost instantly what was so odd about the house. While there seemed to be a cracked pane of glass in front of her, she could see through neither hole nor glass. It was all fake! Someone had created an illusion of a scary old house to wrap their real house in. Quite why was an enigma, but that was not currently a question the fairy was concerned with. She edged up to the railing and peeked over the edge of the roof.

There were two humans up here, laid out on wooden loungers in the sun. The contrast was a little striking and Gloriandel lifted higher and flitted closer, watching carefully to be sure neither of the two women was able to pierce her invisibility. Neither seemed to and she hovered between their feet, looking between them.

On the right was a tall woman with short, black hair, dressed in a rather conservative swimsuit. Her lounger was pulled up to give a better seated position and she was reading a copy of what looked like a cheap magazine, The Wednesday Witch. This one had slightly masculine features, a firm jaw, moderately long nose, high cheekbones, narrow face. Her eyes were quite a startling blue, her skin was pale and freckled, and that black hair had a rebellious sort of red streaking in the fringe. She had a slim body with narrow hips, long legs, and a chest which was not flat, but was not winning any contests either. As she turned the page, Gloriandel spotted the tattoos on the insides of her forearms and a frown creased the fairy’s tiny brow; the tattoos looked magical, an enchantment of some sort.

While the black-haired girl was certainly not unattractive, beside her companion she could almost be thought of as ugly. She was certainly far less confident! The second girl was lying in the sun, stretched out as flat as her seating would allow, without a stitch of clothing on. Of course, Gloriandel was naked herself; she had a few bits of clothing in her travel sack, but fairies did not find wrapping themselves in bits of cloth appealing. The difference between the two humans was noticeable, however.

Beyond the difference in confidence, the second girl’s beauty was undeniable. Gloriendel was used to fae who frequently used glamours to make them better looking if they were not simply inhumanly attractive anyway. This girl would have given Titania a run for her money. The face was pretty, delicate, with an upturned nose and wide cheek bones. It was surrounded by a mass of gorgeously lush, auburn hair which fell down to the upper slopes of a phenomenal pair of breasts. Despite being exceptionally large, the girl’s breasts were firm, unsagging, and the rest of her body was just as perfect, right down to her skin which was creamy, smooth, apparently entirely unmarked. Gloriandel’s brow furrowed again; there was no way this beautiful creature was entirely human.

The black-haired girl put her magazine down on the surface of the roof, twisted around to lower the back of her lounger, and turned onto her front. She rested on her elbows long enough to say, ‘Lil? Would you do my back?’ and then she was lying down flat, her arms on either side of her head.

The auburn beauty swept her legs from her lounger and rose to her feet with far more grace than any human should have. Gloriandel backed away. The girl was not human, not entirely human. The dark eyes, more or less black, the way she paused slightly on the way to rub oil into her friend’s back. She was sensing something, but unable to quite determine what. Giving a shrug, “Lil” sat down on the edge of the brunette’s lounger and picked up a bottle of oil, and Gloriandel turned in the air, spotting the open hatch in the middle of the roof. She flitted across toward it with a smile on her face.

The attic below was spacious and heavily warded, and there was a lot of old furniture, boxes, trunks, and general clutter at one end. Lots of places for a fairy to hide where the humans would not notice. She would find herself somewhere safe in there, stay for a few days, perhaps a couple of weeks, until the noise had died down and the people tracking her had lost the trail. Sure enough there was a box of old sheets near the back and an old, wooden, child’s cot which would be perfect.

Yes, a few days here and it would be safe to move on and find somewhere outside the city…

Part One: The Spring Bride

Kennington, London, January 31st, 2013

Ceri opened the front door of High Towers to find a tall, inhumanly attractive, black-haired woman smiling at her. She blinked at the woman, not expecting her to be there. ‘Ophelia.’ The smile broadened, showing too many perfect, white teeth. ‘I was expecting...’

‘A Seelie fae?’ Ophelia suggested. ‘I’m just your travel agent.’

‘Well,’ Ceri said, not wanting her expectations to suggest prejudice, ‘one of Twill’s… uh, one of Gloriandel’s family.’ She stepped back from the door to allow the tall Sidhe to enter.

Ophelia paused. ‘I am Ophelia Silvershield. I seek entry past your threshold in good faith and peace, seeking nothing but your good will.’ She was some sort of envoy of the Unseelie Court in London and many were a little wary of the Unseelie fae. The formality was, Ceri figured, to put her at her ease, but it also served to ensure Ophelia’s safety in the house of a very powerful magician.

‘I am Ceridwyn Brent,’ Ceri replied. ‘Enter without malice, leave without hindrance. Do no harm here and none will be done to you, Ophelia Silvershield.’

The fae walked in as the big, circular sigil on the floor of the portico flared into life. ‘Thank you.’ Was there a hint of relief in the woman’s voice? ‘I’d be grateful if we could make a little haste. The sun comes up in twenty minutes and it’s easier to cross over while it’s still dawn.’

‘We’re ready,’ Ceri replied, following her through the inner doors into the hall. ‘We didn’t know what to bring so we’re travelling light.’

Ophelia gave a short nod. ‘The Wintergreens can supply suitable clothes and such. You’re honoured guests, even if they don’t really want you there. Hospitality demands that they do all they can to make your stay comfortable.’

The young man sitting on the stairs looked up at that comment. ‘They don’t want us there?’ He was in his late teens, good looking in a rough sort of way with blue eyes and a long, straight nose, and black hair which refused to accept the idea that it should be combed. His body was all lean muscle and there was a strong hint of the animal about him. That was reasonable; Michael was a werewolf.

‘Gloriandel insisted on you being her sheelvhori,’ Ophelia told him, ‘despite her family’s wishes.’ As she spoke, Lily came down the stairs, pausing to give the fae a look of surprise combined with mild disgust.

‘We were wondering about that,’ Ceri said before Lily could comment on Ophelia’s presence. ‘What exactly does “ar sheelvhori an shailis” mean? It’s on all our invitations.’

‘Literally, “the bearers of the chalice.” The position is somewhat like a bridesmaid.’ She smiled at Michael. ‘Pardon the expression. The sheelvhori can be either sex and their job is to keep the bride safe, and to ensure that she gets to the ceremony, on time and alive. There is an equivalent group for the groom, “the bearers of the staff.”’

‘The chalice and the staff,’ Lily said. ‘How symbolic.’

Ophelia gave a little grimace. ‘I find it rather insulting, personally. I told my last husband in no uncertain terms, that I was not simply a receptacle for his “staff” to be plunged into, and if he thought I was he’d have a very rude awakening.’

Lily raised an eyebrow. ‘Didn’t your last husband vanish mysteriously?’

The fae’s smile was positively wolfish. ‘He did. Of course, I miss him terribly.’ The smile turned into a curious frown. ‘You’re rather more pierced than I’ve seen you, Lily. Are you going like that?’

Lily had selected a short, long-sleeved, woollen dress and some flat, leather boots to wear. Her only piece of visible jewellery was a silver chain which hung between her right ear and her lip. ‘It’s a slave chain,’ Lily replied.

‘I haven’t had time to get it cut off,’ Ceri said. ‘The rings are soldered shut. Mind you, Lil seems to like it.’ Ceri pushed down her own discomfort at that. Lily was trying to deal with the aftermath of spending too much time as the plaything of a malicious demon, and if that meant Ceri had to be mistress to Lily’s slave, then she would try her hardest to do it.

‘I do,’ Lily agreed. ‘I want a replacement I can take off when necessary.’

‘That reminds me,’ Ophelia said, reaching into a pocket in her long, black coat. ‘You’ll need these.’ She produced three bracelets; simple chains made from a bright, white silver. Ceri recognised the metal; she had a similar chain around her right ankle under her britches, and Lily was wearing its twin beneath her boot. It was fairy-silver, mined in Otherworld and commonly used for enchantments. ‘These will keep you attached to this world. Without them you’ll likely return to find it’s next century. I made sure these ones had translation charms on them. They’ll let you speak Low Fae. And they’re hexed to stay on once they’re put on. I didn’t want to risk them getting lost.’

‘How come you’re being so nice, Ophelia?’ Lily asked, her tone suspicious.

Ophelia smiled, handing a chain to Ceri, and then to Michael. She stepped up toward Lily and held out the last bracelet. ‘I’m a politician, Lily. I know you know what that means to a fae, but know that it also means knowing who to stay on the right side of. Gloriandel has chosen some very good sheelvhori. You people are the kind of people to stay on the right side of.’ It was a selfish motive, as one might have expected of an Unseelie, but at least she was being honest. ‘If you’re ready, we should get moving. We just need to get up to Kennington Park Road, but sooner is better.’

Ceri walked over to the side of the staircase and picked up her bag and staff. She was wearing the outfit she had bought in Shilfaris, a city in the demons’ world; tight pants in heavy cotton, heeled, leather boots, a leather kirtle and bodice, and heavy leather shoulder pads with attached cowl. She felt it fitted the place they were going. The bag contained various items she thought might be useful, and one thing she was carrying purely to impress the Wintergreens. ‘I think we’re set,’ she said and then looked across to the kitchen door under the stairs. ‘Gwyn? We’re leaving.’

Two women emerged from the back room, both with long, black hair. One was shorter and Oriental, the other taller and Caucasian. Both carried themselves with the kind of poise it took centuries to develop. Both were millennia old and had been dragons until the previous Samhain.

Gwyn, the taller of the two, smiled. ‘Good journey and good luck,’ she said.

‘I hope things work out as you wish,’ Mei, the shorter woman added. She stood a little back as Gwyn stepped up and gave Ceri a brief hug. Mei was still a little hesitant around Ceri and Lily, and not too confident in her own right.

‘We’ll take care of the house while you’re away,’ Gwyn added. She was all confidence, but Ceri could tell she was worried. Of course, compared to Ceri leaving on a solo mission to rescue Lily from the Demon Realm, a trip to a wedding in the fae Otherworld ought to be easy.

They said nothing else as the little party made their way out, around to the arbour gate at the side of the garden, and across the park to the main road. Traffic was quite heavy, even now, as people headed toward Vauxhall Bridge and The City. They ignored the odd looks as Ophelia moved to the edge of the pavement, her hand reaching out, fingers spread, as though searching for something.

‘There’s an old road running through here,’ she said, sounding distracted. ‘The ley line that follows it is weak, but it will suffice for our needs. Ah! Here we are.’ She held out her other hand. ‘Grab on and… well, taking a deep breath is usually a good idea.’

‘We’ve done the travel by ley line thing before,’ Michael said, laying his palm over Ophelia’s. Ceri and Lily did the same. One of the drivers of a stationary car beside them looked on as though they were all mad.

‘Probably not between worlds,’ Ophelia said. Her free hand reached out and clenched into a fist as though she was grabbing something. ‘I hate this…’ The rest of her sentence was lost as the world suddenly vanished into a blur.

~~~

Wintergreen Estates, Otherworld

Four figures fell out of the air in front of a huge set of white stone gates, tumbling across the dirt track before coming to a stop in a tangle of limbs, all of them gasping for breath. Four men with spears marched out from the gatehouse as they disentangled themselves, collected their belongings, and regained some control over their breathing. Oddly, the guards did not seem particularly surprised at the sudden arrival.

‘That,’ Ceri gasped, ‘was rough.’

‘Yes,’ Ophelia replied. ‘Sorry.’

‘I got into the Demon Realm more smoothly.’

The Unseelie fae gave a short laugh. ‘Perhaps I should have got you to work the transport spell.’

‘I didn’t know where we were going.’ She looked around at Lily and Michael. ‘Everyone okay?’

‘If we have to do his a lot,’ Lily commented sourly, ‘I want a gate.’

Ophelia was turning to face the four Sidhe in bronze-splinted, leather armour advancing on them. ‘Lady Ophelia of the House Silvershield, here under treaty with the Family Wintergreen. I bring Gloriandel Wintergreen’s bearers.’

One of the men who was wearing a short sword as well as carrying a spear, nodded. ‘Follow me,’ he said curtly, and turned on his heel to return to the gate. Ceri glanced at Lily and then fell into step behind Ophelia as she made her way toward the gate. The other three guards moved around them, one to either side and one to the rear.

Michael’s eyes narrowed. ‘Either they’re expecting trouble or they don’t trust us.’

‘Possibly both,’ Ophelia replied. ‘I’m Unseelie and I did say that Gloriandel’s choice of you three was unpopular with the family. Add to that the fact that this marriage is unpopular with one or two power groups within both courts and we’re right at the middle of a potential mess.’

‘Great,’ Ceri growled. ‘I just got out of one political conflict.’

‘Molech wasn’t exactly a politician,’ Lily commented. ‘More of a tyrant.’

‘Tyranny is a form of politics,’ Ophelia said. ‘We’ve had our share of tyrants here.’

Inside the gates the basic layout of the family castle became obvious. It looked distinctly strange, but it was obvious. A tall, circular wall with four turrets surrounded the compound. The top appeared to be crenelated, with a walkway along the inner edge where they could see guards patrolling. There were a number of one storey buildings set within the circle. The largest of these took up the centre, and that one looked particularly strange since there was a sort of miniature castle on top of it. Well, the Wintergreens were fairies, so their family stronghold had suitably sized buildings. In this case, some rather spectacular, spired buildings, even if all ten floors were only about seven feet in height.

Rather than heading for the central building, however, the guards led the way to a low building off to the right, isolated from everything else around it. The leader turned and pointed toward a heavy wooden door. ‘You’re in there, Silvershield. The rest of you are in that side.’ He indicated a second door at the other end of the building. ‘Mistress Gloriandel will be joining you shortly.’

Ophelia nodded. ‘Just go in and get comfortable. Gloriandel will be expected to spend the time up until the wedding with you three so they won’t keep her up in the castle for long.’ Her gaze turned to the guard. ‘That would be a distinct failure of tradition and hospitality.’

Ceri saw the guard’s face redden. The tightening around his eyes and jaw suggested anger. He did not like having his job told to him by an Unseelie. ‘Thank you, Ophelia. A pleasure meeting you again.’ The fae woman smiled, looking a little surprised that Ceri appeared to be being genuine, and then started off for her room. Ceri nodded to the guard and then started off toward the second door he had indicated.

Clearly they had been put in some sort of guest quarters. It was a small suite with a large bed chamber which doubled as a lounge, and a bathroom set off from it. The bed was large, with four ornate posts carved from a dark wood Ceri did not recognise. There was a fireplace which had been set with a log fire to warm the room through, and there was a loveseat and two armchairs set around that. Lily walked over to a large wardrobe near the bed, opening it to look inside, while Ceri checked the bathroom. The bath was a large, stone affair built into the floor and wall, and there was a sink and toilet which both looked quite modern given the setting. Indoor plumbing, it appeared, had been invented, or imported.

‘Wow.’ Lily’s voice drew Ceri out into the main room again. ‘Dresses, and clothes for Michael,’ Lily said. She glanced back toward the werewolf. ‘I don’t think you’ll be too embarrassed about wearing these either.’ She pulled out a dark grey, loose shirt with embroidered patterns around the wide collar. ‘There’s some slacks in here that look like they’ll fit you like a glove. You’ll have all the fae girls fawning over you.’

Michael looked back at her and smiled. ‘I don’t need them. I’ve got all the women I need right here.’

Lily giggled. ‘You used to be this tongue-tied teenager and now look at you, saying just what a girl wants to hear.’ Michael demonstrated that he still had a hint of the bashful late-teen about him by blushing at the compliment.

Ceri pulled something out of the wardrobe, a tabard-like dress, two panels held together with a choker and some belts. She grinned. ‘You’ll look stunning in this, Lil.’

The half-succubus pursed her lips, eyes tracking down the garment. ‘I’m flattered you think I’m that tall. It’s sized for you.’

Ceri let out a cough. ‘Uh… right.’ She pushed the dress on its wooden hanger back into the cupboard and turned just in time to see a streak of blue-white light fly in through an opening near the eaves, streaming toward them and then doubling back to pass Michael, and then whipping three times around the room before coming to  stop.

The ball of light resolved itself into a woman. Four inches in height, give or take, she had skin the colour of a ripe conker and a cap of bright purple hair. A good portion of her height was in the form of long legs which somehow looked fine at her natural height, but if you scaled her up she took on something of the exaggerated quality of a wartime pinup painting. Sprouting from between her shoulder blades were wings, somewhat like a butterflies, but more feathery, and blue-white in colour. Up close, and she proceeded to get very up close as she buzzed between the three of them speaking too fast for real words to be resolved, she was a pretty woman who looked no older than Michael. She had a cute face, a little rounded with a pert nose and deep, brown eyes.

As Ceri waited for the suddenly arrived bride to calm down enough to be understood, she noticed the arrival of a second fairy through the little doorway in the eaves. This one was white skinned, though her body showed a tan. Her hair was a little longer, and dark blue with a black fringe, and her wings seemed a little darker too.

‘So, do we call you Gloriandel now?’ Ceri said when the brown fairy let her get a word in.

‘Oh please don’t, Ceri.’ The voice slowed to a decipherable speed and the look on Twill’s face was pleading. The other fairy’s eyes widened at Twill’s answer, but Ceri just smiled.

‘You’ve no idea how pleased I am to see you too, Twill,’ Ceri said. The fairy gave a little squeak of glee and flitted forward to kiss Ceri on the nose before turning and giving the same treatment to Lily and Michael. ‘Who’s your friend?’ Ceri asked as Michael looked distinctly embarrassed.

‘Oh yes, introductions,’ Twill said, waving at the other fairy to come forward. ‘This is Ishifa Bushbottom, my maid.’ Somehow Twill managed to get just how much she did not want a maid into two words. ‘Ishifa, this is Ceridwyn Brent, Lily Carpenter, and Michael, my friends.’

Ishifa bobbed a little curtsey in the air. ‘It’s such a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard such things about you.’

‘Since I’ll be staying here until the wedding,’ Twill went on, ‘Ishifa will be staying with us. My mother doesn’t believe I can survive without a servant.’ The sarcasm dripped off her words like treacle. ‘I see you’ve found the clothes. We’ll go over that shortly.’ She twisted in the air and flew back to Lily, lifting her slave chain. ‘More piercings, Lily? Why are you wearing a slave chain?’

‘I like it,’ Lily replied, pouting a little.

‘And I haven’t had a chance to cut it off,’ Ceri added. ‘Things have been a little… busy recently.’

‘I want a less permanent replacement,’ Lily said, ‘so she can’t take it until I have one.’

‘I see,’ Twill said, swinging around in the air. ‘Ishifa, find Master Loram. Make sure he has silver chain in stock and then bring him here immediately.’ Ceri raised an eyebrow at the rather imperious tone, but the fairy maid seemed quite happy with it.

‘Of course, Mistress.’ Twisting in the air, Ishifa flitted off toward the eaves, wrapping herself in blue-white magic as her speed increased.

Twill waited a few seconds after Ishifa left and then let out a long sigh. ‘Good. We have a few minutes alone. I need you all to listen to me and do as I ask.’ All three looked intently at her, waiting to see what she would say. ‘I’d imagine you came with some idea of saving me from this marriage.’

‘Of course,’ Lily said, frowning. ‘When I found out you’d run away from it I knew we couldn’t…’

Twill held up a hand and Lily cut herself off, her frown deepening. ‘Don’t. Do nothing to interfere. I can’t have it. My family are fully aware that you are likely to want to stop the wedding and they will be watching us closely. Ishifa is a sweet child, but she’s under orders to report anything she overhears, and she’s too scared of my mother to disobey her.’

‘But…’ Lily began.

‘No,’ Twill interrupted, her voice firm. ‘This is a political marriage. In all probability I’ll have to spend barely any time with the disgusting little sprite. Whatever the case, I will not have you putting yourselves in danger to stop it.’

Ceri looked at her tiny friend. ‘You’re asking a lot, Twill.’ Her voice was soft and there was pain in it. ‘I know you came back to try to help me. If it wasn’t for me, they wouldn’t know where you were.’

‘But it wasn’t your fault, was it, Ceri?’ Twill replied. ‘And it was my choice to seek help from my family. It may have been too late, but that was my mistake. Don’t make it worse by getting yourselves killed, or worse, trying to “save” me.’

‘You ran away from this marriage once, Twill,’ Lily said.

‘I was young,’ the fairy replied. ‘I wanted to marry for love, not for some political advantage. After all this time I’ve given up on love. That kind of love anyway. To be honest, dear, I’m quite happy with good friends and excellent sex once in a while.’ That made Lily giggle.

‘All right, Twill,’ Ceri said. ‘I’m not happy, but I won’t go against your wishes. I do have one question.’

‘Yes, Ceri?’

‘Just how old are you? You always claimed to be eighteen, and we never really believed you.’

‘A, um, slight embroidery of the truth. I’m eighteen… decades. By your reckoning I’ll be one-hundred and eighty-three tomorrow. Most fae are very long lived, even fairies.’

‘Oh. At least we know when to celebrate your birthday now.’

Further discussion was stopped by a knock on the door. Twill turned toward it, raising her hand, and the wood hinged back to reveal Ishifa and a well-built, middle-aged man who appeared to be about two feet high. He had something of a sour expression, and pointed ears.

‘Master Loram,’ Twill said, ‘it’s good of you to come. I have an urgent commission for you. I need it done by nightfall. Lily, would you kneel down so that Master Loram can examine that chain of yours?’

Lily got down on her knees as the small man walked through the door and crossed the room to look up at the chain hanging between Lily’s lip and ear. He pursed his lips. ‘You’re wantin’ it removable? And you’re not wantin’ enchantments?’

‘Just a plain chain,’ Lily told him, ‘that I can take off if I need to.’

‘All these rush jobs,’ Loram grumbled. Ceri guessed he was a hob, and they were noted for having bad tempers. He looked up at Twill. ‘Seeing as it’s you, Mistress Gloriandel, you’ll have it afor the sun sets.’ He reached out his hand and tapped the chain Lily was wearing. There was a pinging noise and the metal dropped into his waiting fingers. ‘I’ll take this for the length.’

‘Dispose of it carefully, Master Loram,’ Ceri said. ‘The metal was mined in the Demon Realm.’

The little man looked at her, his eyes brightening. ‘It was, was it. I’ve use for that.’ Looking rather happier than he had when he arrived, Loram walked back out through the door which closed behind him, apparently of its own volition.

‘He tends to be a little grumpy,’ Twill said, ‘but he makes exceptionally fine jewellery. Now, since Ishifa would be terribly upset if she were not here for this, I suggest we get some refreshments organised, and then you can tell me all about your little sojourn in the demons’ world. Some of it reached our ears, but I’d like to hear the full story.’

~~~

It took about an hour to go through the events of the last few months. Lily explained how she had arrived in the Demon Realm where she was taken to the city of Shilfaris to be the prisoner of Matthew Barnes, a thaumatologist and demonic pawn, who had force fed her a steady diet of demons. Lily was half demon already, her father was an incubus, and the result of Barnes’ experiment had been to make her more like a real succubus and tie her to that world so it would be harder to rescue her.

Ishifa had sat there, entirely rapt, as Ceri had explained how she had finally worked out that Lily was alive and gone looking for her. The fairy found the entire story incredibly romantic, and the tale of how they had crossed half the continent together to reach a portal in the Castle of Bones was incredibly epic. It was, however, Twill who spoke up when Ceri told them that she had taken the crown of the Overlord of All Demons for herself to get out.

‘You took Gorefguhadget’s Iron Crown?!’ The little nut-brown woman was perched on Michael’s shoulder. Ishifa had looked a little shocked when Twill had simply landed there without any preliminaries, but then the stories had begun and she had forgotten the lack of decorum.

Reaching over the side of her chair, Ceri picked up her bag, dug in it for a second, and then produced a grey metal circlet, the front of it carved with multiple, interlocking, highly intricate runes. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It’s not quite so impressive outside their world. It’s got some enchantment still and I haven’t quite worked out what it can still do, but it doesn’t give me the level of control it does there. Thank God.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Ishifa said. ‘Wouldn’t being able to control all demons be a good thing?’

‘No,’ Ceri said flatly.

‘I’m half demon,’ Lily explained, ‘and it affects me just like a full demon. She’s very scary when she’s wearing it there and I’ve got essentially no free will. My Mistress is a kind mistress, and she hates that.’

‘It’s not just that,’ Ceri said. ‘I mean, that was a lot of it. Can you imagine someone you love looking at you with fear in their eyes?’ Ishifa’s eyes widened; considering what a romantic she seemed to be, she clearly got the point. ‘But the other thing is… it’s such a temptation. The power. This thing gives me access to the whole magic field over there. I could do anything. I turned Molech from the most powerful demon lord in the realm into a snivelling little Devim. It was just a matter of willing it. I’ve got enough temptation with the power I have in my own right.’ There was a moment of silence since no one really knew what to say to that. Then Ceri said, ‘So, what do we actually have to do since we’re here?’

‘Keep me alive to get to the ceremony,’ Twill replied quite calmly. ‘Generally the position of bearer is an honorary one, like the bridesmaids you have at human weddings. They are friends of the bride who provide support and help with the stress. However, with a political match like this one there is actually a chance you’ll need to fend off assassins.’

‘Seriously?’ Michael said. ‘Someone wants this wedding stopped that badly?’

Twill sighed. ‘The Wintergreens have been a strong political family for several centuries. We rose in power through all the time honoured methods of the Seelie Court. Blackmail, intrigue, assassination, bribery, and sucking up to the right people.’ She looked over at Ishifa, perched on the mantelpiece and looking uncomfortable. ‘Oh, there was a lot of clever political manoeuvring, don’t get me wrong, but we’re like a swan. It’s all serene elegance and beauty above water, and a great deal of messy scrabbling below. Humans tend to consider fairies and sprites to be amongst the weakest of the fae, and the Sidhe tend to overlook us a lot. That gives us a huge advantage when it comes to espionage and murder.’

‘Most humans have never met you, Twill,’ Lily commented. ‘Look at John Radcliffe. He’s almost scared of you and he thinks you’re nothing much more than a housekeeper.’

Twill favoured the half-succubus with a smile. ‘After putting up with you two for a couple of years, dear, a simple human detective is easy to scare. Anyway, the Darksun family are in many ways the Unseelie equivalent of the Wintergreens. They are a prominent family of sprites, many of them skilled assassins and spies…’ She paused, a sudden thought apparent on her face. ‘You do know the difference between fairies and sprites don’t you?’

‘Fairies won’t generally stab you in the eye because you looked at them funny?’ Ceri suggested.

‘Well, yes, but I meant by sight. Sprites hate being mistaken for fairies. They usually have darker wings which are flatter, and they’re a little larger. Try to avoid making the mistake, things will go a lot easier.’

‘I’ll try to remember,’ Michael said.

‘You might find it easier,’ Twill said. ‘I’m told they smell different. It’s something to do with their ability to manifest poison darts. Anyway, an alliance between the two families has been something the Wintergreens have been working on for two centuries. When Joshia and I were born a week apart my mother and his decided that we should be married to cement the alliance. We were both told we would be wed as soon as we were old enough to understand, but they had to wait until we were a reasonable age to do it.’

‘What does he think of it?’ Ceri asked.

‘Oh, like most sprites, he thinks with his genitals. The idea of having freely available fairy pussy at his disposal had him convinced as soon as his voice broke. By all accounts he should be fairly good in bed, he’s practiced on enough of the Darksun housemaids in the century I was away from here.’

‘Sounds like a wonderful catch,’ Lily commented sourly. ‘So who are the main contenders for causing trouble?’

Twill looked up at the mantle. ‘Ishifa? You’re well up on the gossip…’

‘Oh…’ The fairy looked a little surprised to be called on for information. She gave an embarrassed smile before going on. ‘Well, the main problem in the Seelie Court is the Summerglen family.’

‘Still?!’ Twill interrupted. ‘The Summerglens have been our rivals for centuries. I believe we stole some land from them once, or they stole some from us. I doubt anyone really remembers.’

Ishifa nodded. ‘Still, Mistress. They try to stop any political advance the Wintergreens attempt. Word has it they had a five day party when you ran away. There are six of them on the guest list for the wedding, but they won’t be arriving until tomorrow, so if they try anything it’ll be very last minute. Most of the Seelie Court is fairly keen on the alliance, though there are some rumours that the House of Alberich is concerned over the power shift.’

‘Who are they?’ Ceri asked. ‘And what’s the difference between a house and a family? Ophelia said she was from House Silvershield and I thought it was just a family name.’

‘House Alberich is the main royal house,’ Twill replied. ‘Oberon and Titania belong to it. Houses are alliances of smaller families and others, usually. Ophelia joined Silvershield, I believe, because of her aptitude for diplomacy. Silvershield follows that model. Alberich is a little different since it was the family line of King Alberich originally. When Oberon ascended to the throne and married Titania, her family came under the Alberich banner, and various other strong families have joined them through other marriages.’

‘House Silvershield brokered the marriage,’ Ishifa said, ‘so they are probably safe. There are several Unseelie families who would like to see it fail, however. The Darksuns have murdered a number of prominent Unseelie which has made them unpopular in some circles. However, they hold blackmail material on enough of them that the risk is diminished. The Wildhorn family are probably the worst threat, though also the most disorganised.’

‘I’m amazed they still survive,’ Twill interrupted. ‘They’re old-style Sidhe. They don’t have a true stronghold, just encampments they move around the mountains between the North and South Lands. Most of them can’t write! They like chaos, long-term planning is not their strong point, but they are very good at stalking, hunting, and killing, and their chaos makes them unpredictable.’

‘There are none of them on the guest list, but they could crash the party.  There’s also House Araket. You won’t know them, Mistress, they were formed out of the union of the Sheeran and Toberian families about fifty years ago.’

‘Those I know,’ Twill commented. ‘The Sheerans cut themselves a territory in the south by wiping out the clans in their neighbouring territories, and the Toberians traffic with demons.’

Ishifa gave a little nod. ‘They fought each other to a standstill over some patch of swamp and finally decided that working together would be better. They have been pretty open in saying that the joining of the two families in this way is a blatant attempt to bring the Unseelie fae under the full control of the Seelie.’

‘They’re right,’ Twill said. Ishifa let out a little gasp, though Ceri could not tell if it was outrage or surprise. ‘The Unseelie haven’t had a real ruling family in… four centuries? Their infighting stops them organising effectively and the Seelie have held sway here ever since Oberon slew Sreng at the Fifth Battle of High Glenn. The reason the Unseelie moved quickly to take Ireland and Scandinavia after the Shattering was a desire to carve out lands for themselves free of Seelie influence.’

‘Any of these Araket people on the guest list?’ Ceri asked. Ishifa nodded. ‘So we could have demons to deal with. You’ve got bad fae, and wild fae, and fae who just don’t like your family after you. Oh, and the royal family isn’t entirely pleased. Is it too late to decline the invitation?’ She grinned as she said it and the sound of wind chimes filled the air as Twill laughed.

‘Well,’ Twill replied, ‘with a sorceress, a half-demon, and a werewolf guarding me, I think they’ll attack Joshia instead.’

‘Quite possibly,’ Ishifa stated. ‘I heard his eldest brother, Briarin, is upset that he’s not the one getting married and would happily see Joshia dead. Briarin is one of Joshia’s bearers.’

‘You may not end up getting married anyway, Twill,’ Michael rumbled.

Twill sat back and sighed. ‘I don’t believe my luck is anything like that good at the moment, dear.’

~~~

A lunchtime discussion of the actual ceremony involved in the wedding was interrupted by the arrival of a fairy through the little door in the eaves. This one looked young, with brown skin, purple hair, and wings very like Twill’s. She flew in with a slightly hesitant motion, though she was trying her best to look confident and a little imperious.

Twill looked up at her and smiled. ‘Good afternoon, Linida. What does Mother want?’

The girl flew closer to the chairs where the group were eating fruit and cheese accompanied by a pleasant red wine. ‘She wants to know whether you want your stuff for the festival brought over here.’ Linida’s eyes darted about, taking in the larger people while trying to look like she was uninterested.

‘And you wanted to meet our guests?’ Twill suggested. The fairy’s cheeks coloured, but Twill continued before she could deny anything. ‘This is Linida, my youngest sister. Linida, this is Ceridwyn Brent, Lily Carpenter, and Michael.’

‘Pleased to meet you, I’m sure,’ Linida said.

‘Linida was twelve when I left,’ Twill went on. ‘She barely remembered me. She was such a cute little thing back then, but she’s grown into a perfect example of a Wintergreen princess.’

Ceri raised an eyebrow at Twill, who was sitting on the arm of the loveseat beside Lily. There had been more than a hint of sarcasm in the statement, but Linida apparently thought it was a huge compliment. ‘Pleased to meet you, Linida.’

‘She’s still cute,’ Lily said, a smile playing over her lips. Linida’s cheeks went redder.

Michael said, ‘Hello, ma’am,’ which brought on wider eyes; the young fae was not used to being treated with any respect, it seemed.

‘How many brothers and sisters do you have, Twill?’ Ceri asked. Linida frowned, probably at the use of the name.

‘Two brothers, seven sisters. Father wanted more sons, but Mother said ten children was quite enough.’ There was a slight pause and then, ‘Which is why Linida is my youngest full sister. I believe I have around twenty half-siblings that Father keeps an eye on in case he needs an extra heir. Currently unacknowledged, of course.’

‘Gloriandel!’ Linida squeaked.

‘Don’t be such a prude, Linida. Everyone knows Father has been sowing his seed in any furrow he can find.’

‘We don’t talk about that kind of thing in front of strangers,’ Linida admonished.

‘They aren’t strangers, Linida. I know them better than I know you. I’ll come over to the house with Ishifa to get ready. There’s no need to have things brought over.’

‘I’ll go with you,’ Ceri said. ‘If we’re supposed to be guarding you, we should take it seriously.’

Slightly higher-pitched wind chimes sounded as Linida laughed. ‘That… wouldn’t work. You wouldn’t fit, and we can all fly so there are no stairs.’

Ceri smiled at her. ‘That won’t be a problem.’ Linida looked confused for a second, but then pulled herself up straight and nodded before flying out through the eaves. ‘What about these celebrations tonight, Twill?’ Ceri asked. ‘What’s going to happen?’

‘It’s primarily a fire and fertility festival,’ Twill replied. She picked up a tiny tankard of wine and took a sip. ‘The start of Spring, traditional time for new lambs, that kind of thing. There will be a feast in the Great Hall, with a huge fire burning in the hearth. Lots of eating and drinking.’ She frowned. ‘Be careful, there’s likely to be some fae wine doing the rounds. Ishifa will be on hand to check my food and drink for poison.’ She favoured the younger fairy with a smile. ‘Sometime around midnight that will start to break up, which is generally when the fertility aspect gets going. I thought we could just escape the crowd and come back here. Orgy optional.’ Her wind chime laugh sounded through the room. Ishifa went scarlet.

~~~

A commotion outside brought them all to the window of the little suite in time to see Ophelia walking out into the main courtyard in front of the castle to greet the new arrivals. The Unseelie had changed clothes and was now in a pair of very tight britches, high-heeled boots, and a red corset with lace around the bottom. Far more fitting for the setting than the jeans and T-shirt she had initially arrived in.

‘That will be the Darksuns,’ Twill said, her voice sounding resigned.

Two large carriages pulled by four horses in ornately decorated harnesses had pulled up. Each carriage bore an emblem on the side; a gold disk with black, stylised flames coming from it. Ceri figured that was the family crest, or something similar. Four Sidhe guards in black leather armour climbed out, followed by a small horde of sprites. They all appeared to be pale skinned from what Ceri could see. An examination of their wings would have to wait until they were a lot closer.

‘Can you see Joshia?’ Lily asked.

‘My eyes aren’t that good, Lily. Besides, I only met him once and that was over a century ago. The couple talking to Ophelia will be Narada and Qualika, his parents, so… I suspect the one hanging just behind them is likely Joshia.’

‘He doesn’t exactly look happy to be here,’ Michael commented. ‘Maybe he’s changed his mind about the free fairy sex.’

‘Possible,’ Twill acknowledged. ‘Not that it would matter. He’s getting married whether he wants to or not, just as I am.’ She turned, heading back into the room. ‘We’ll let them get settled, then we’ll go over and get ready for the party.’

‘Sounds good,’ Ceri replied, turning away herself. Lily followed her, Michael staying at the window to watch for things getting quiet.

‘I don’t understand though,’ Ishifa said as Ceri returned to her chair. ‘Linida was right, you’ll never fit in the rooms over there, never mind getting through the corridors.’

‘Oh, I’m very flexible,’ Ceri replied. ‘Extremely flexible when I need to be.’

~~~

‘You didn’t need to undress to do this,’ Twill commented from Ceri’s shoulder. They were walking across the courtyard to the main hall, Ishifa flying along beside them.

‘You’re not wearing anything,’ Ceri pointed out. ‘I doubt anyone else will be upstairs.’

‘Yes, but you’re a human, not a fairy.’

‘When in Rome, do as the Roman fairies do.’ Twill’s laughter drew the attention of the two guards standing beside the open door. They looked perplexed as a naked human with a fairy on her shoulder and another flying after walked past them into the hall.

It really was quite a Great Hall. Not, perhaps, as high as some Ceri had seen, but big with three long, dark, polished wood tables running down it to a forth table which was presumably the High Table. To their right was a massive fireplace, currently unlit but stacked with enough wood to build a bonfire. The walls were white marble, and the ceiling was held up with four huge pillars carved to resemble tree trunks.

‘Head straight through to the back,’ Twill instructed, and they walked on through to one of two huge doors which led onto a corridor behind the hall. The fairy pointed upward as soon as they were through the door. ‘Up there.’ “Up there” was a hole in the ceiling about six inches in diameter.

‘Right,’ Ceri said. ‘You’d better move.’ Twill lifted smoothly off Ceri’s shoulder as she started drawing on her power. Spells were easier here; the world had a higher magic level than Earth, not massively higher, but enough that it was easier to twist reality a little. Or a lot. Ceri formed the spell in her head, funnelled power through it, and let it go. The world around her began growing, though it was really that she was shrinking. Ishifa let out a little gleeful gasp as Ceri got smaller until, a few seconds later, she was the same height as they were. She looked up at the hole in the ceiling, summoned the power for a second spell, and floated smoothly upward.

‘She did say she was flexible,’ Twill pointed out to her maid as she flitted upward, getting ahead of Ceri to lead the way.

‘Very flexible,’ Ishifa agreed, bringing up the rear.

The castle above was something of a warren. The entrance hole, which could be sealed with a huge, bronze gate, led onto a hallway from which corridors went off in six directions. Twill headed off down the one to the east and then it was a matter of taking upward flights, more corridors, up again, along again, until Ceri was entirely lost and glad she was likely to never have to find her way through it again. Her dragon pendant would have allowed her to remember the route, but she had had to leave that behind; only her ankle chain and bracelet, both cursed to remain attached no matter what, would shrink with her.

Ceri got some distinctly odd looks from the servants in the corridors. She was clearly not a fairy, and there she was, four and a half inches high and walking down the corridors of the castle with Mistress Gloriandel, quite naked and unconcerned. Linida spotted them as she walked down a cross-corridor and her eyes practically bulged out of her head. They seemed to be going a long way up, and the last section was vertically upward into one of the towers. There was a small landing and a door, and then they were in Twill’s rooms.

It was very spacious, for someone barely a hand-width high. The bedroom was large, with a window overlooking the estate which had a seat under it. The bed itself was a four-poster; not as big as the old cot Twill slept in in High Towers, but quite big enough. There were also several chairs, and a chaise longe. All the furniture appeared to have been made by a craftsman of considerable skill, probably just the one since the style was consistent throughout. There was a bathroom much like the one in the guest suite, just more opulent, and a walk-in wardrobe the relative size of Ceri’s bedroom. There were not many clothes in it, but then Twill had not been there for years and rarely wore clothes anyway. The room did have a dressing table, however, and a huge number of bottles and jars which Ceri took to be make-up.

‘Nice place,’ Ceri commented.

‘I prefer my attic,’ Twill replied. She glanced at Ishifa. ‘Let’s get on with this. I’d like to be out of here before…’

‘Gloriandel, dear?’ The voice came from outside the room just before the door opened and a fairy Ceri did not recognise walked in. She was not tall, even for a fairy, and clearly older than any of the others Ceri had met, but you could barely tell. She had a shapely figure, a little larger in the hips than Twill, and with a tiny bit more sag in her breasts. The most telling thing was the slightly faded blue of her wings and the hint of grey in her long, dark blue hair. ‘Linida said you were here and… oh!’ She came to a stop, blinking in surprise as she actually took in the fact that the woman immediately in front of her did not have wings.

‘Mother,’ Twill said, and it was clear to Ceri that she was trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice, ‘I’d like to introduce you to Ceridwyn Brent. Ceri, this is Aderiel Wintergreen, my mother.’

‘Welcome to my home, Ceridwyn Brent,’ Aderiel said, smiling happily, if a little vacantly. Despite not having her pendant, Ceri saw the hardness in the woman’s eyes. She was trying to play the happy mother of the bride, the simple hostess, and she was standing there calculating.

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.’ Probably better to show some deference, even if Ceri’s first thought was to turn the woman into a flatworm.

‘That’s a very clever piece of magic. It was my understanding that humans had not mastered such spells.’

‘Ceri is not exactly a typical human, Mother,’ Twill pointed out.

‘Ah yes, you’re a sorceress, aren’t you? Some dragon blood involved in your heritage?’

Ceri smiled. ‘Brenin and Brenhines, and through Brenin’s line to Gorefguhadget. Some of the most powerful practitioners ever, yes. I’m heir to the power of the White City and the Overlordship of Demons. But mostly I had a very good education in thaumatology. I’m a very good scientist.’

The information about Gorefguhadget caught the elder fairy by surprise, but she masked it pretty quickly; Ceri was impressed. ‘Well… I’m sure you have preparations to make for this evening. I’m glad to see my daughter is in such good hands.’ She turned, heading back through the door, and Ceri turned back to Twill, still smiling.

‘That,’ Twill said, ‘was mean. She thinks she has the Morrigan or something in the wedding party.’

Ceri’s smile turned into a smirk. ‘Between me, Lil, and Michael, we could probably stop an army. She has a right to be scared. I scare me at times.’

Twill laughed and turned to the little dressing room-come-wardrobe. ‘Come, Ishifa, let’s get this over with. You know, Ceri, the fact that Gorefguhadget was actually a dragon is going to go through the gossip chain like wildfire.’ She walked into the little room, stopping in the middle with a sigh while Ishifa went to the table to get a book, a brush, and a pot of something.

‘Yes, the legendary Overlord of All Demons was not even a demon,’ Ceri said, stopping in the doorway, perplexed. ‘What exactly is it you’re doing?’

‘It’s a fertility festival, dear. Fairies don’t wear clothes, there are traditional designs to be painted onto the skin.’

‘I don’t have to do that, do I?’

‘It’s a fairy custom. Sprites don’t even do it.’ Ishifa had found the page she wanted and was already starting to paint white leaf patterns down Twill’s arms.

‘You realise Lil is going to want that as soon as she sees you, right?’

‘I had taken that into account, yes. You’ll be wearing your costume for the wedding. It was chosen to suit your body style and bearing. You’re playing a seductress-witch archetype. It’s a sort of tabard style gown in black with red leaf patterns woven into the fabric. Quite beautiful.’

Ceri grimaced. ‘I saw it. I’ll be practically naked.’

‘Says the girl standing there naked.’

Ishafa had started on the other arm. ‘Do you mind if I ask what your tattoo signifies, Mistress Brent?’

Unconsciously, Ceri reached to the back of her right hip where the roughly circular image of a dragon curled nose to tail was printed under her skin. ‘It’s not a tattoo. It’s… It was the emblem of my draconic ancestors. It kind of formed itself after I came into my power. Apparently it was there when I was a child too. My parents hid it with the rest of my magic. I’m not exactly sure what it signifies. Maybe just who I am. And please don’t call me that, you’re not my servant.’

Ishifa gave her a quick smile. ‘It’s pretty.’

‘Thank you.’ Ceri was still not sure about having the thing there, but she had to admit there were worse looking tattoos about.

It took about thirty minutes before Ishifa was happy with her artwork and Twill was starting to get too irritated to continue. By that time Ceri had got the general idea behind the design. There was a generally decorative leaf design down Twill’s arms and the sides of her legs, and across her back. The white fronds and outlines were filled in with gold. At the front the pattern was decorative, but more… symbolic. Leaves swirled around her breasts, highlighting her nipples. More leaves cascaded down over her torso making a beeline down to point at the other primary erogenous zone.

‘So,’ Ceri said when Ishifa was finished, ‘the basic idea is “here it is, boys, come get it.”’

‘I believe that would be an accurate anthropological assessment,’ Twill replied in a rather resigned tone. ‘Happily, since I’m getting married tomorrow and there are threats to my life, I can decline any of the undoubtedly delightful offers I’ll be getting tonight.’

‘If Mis…’ Ishifa began and then stopped and started again. ‘If Ceridwyn can take you back to their rooms, Mistress, I’ll go down to the servants’ quarters and get myself ready.’

‘I think we can manage,’ Twill replied. Ishifa smiled and padded out across the thick carpet. ‘She’ll probably enjoy this evening more too,’ Twill added when they heard the door closed. ‘She’s good looking and of low rank. She would likely end up being passed around the guests and she’s in no position to decline them.’

‘But now she can say she has duties?’

‘Indeed, but someone will try it on. Keep an eye out for her, if you would.’

‘Of course. Fae wine doesn’t affect fairies, does it?’

Twill laughed, starting toward the door. ‘No, it doesn’t, aside from the normal way. She’ll likely be good about indulging herself though, she’s a dutiful sort of girl.’

‘How old is she?’ Ceri followed after her, prepping her spell to get down through the castle.

‘Uh… seventy-three. She came into service last year. Her family has a farm out on the edge of the estate. She’s the youngest of five and they didn’t need her on the land. I believe it was thought she could gain a proper education, and perhaps advance the family, by going into service.’

‘You know, I’ve spent the last several months in what could be considered as “feudal” societies, with Lily wandering around as my slave, and I still can’t get used to this whole servants and social distinctions business.’

‘It isn’t as if there are no social classes on Earth, dear. Being a servant here pays quite well. I believe Ishifa sends money home to her family. Mother likes people to be able to read and write, which is not always the case. If they get sufficiently good at the fae languages she even has them learn English or Irish.’

‘So your mother isn’t all bad then?’

‘No,’ Twill replied, ‘but then again it does make them more useful when spying on guests.’

~~~

Lily had admired Twill’s paint job, but had waited until Ishifa turned up before declaring that this was a wonderful custom and why had no one told her going to the celebrations naked was an option? When Twill had shown her the drawer full of paint pots, however, she had just grinned.

‘That’s okay, I have a less messy alternative.’ Then she had looked between Twill’s design and Ishifa’s. The maid had a less complex design, more abstract, with swirls of purple and black replacing the leaves. The basic concept was the same, however; swirls highlighting the breasts and genitals. Her eyes narrowed. ‘Have you rouged your nipples, Ishifa?’ The maid squirmed a little. ‘And your labia?’ Ishifa went scarlet. ‘Naughty girl,’ Lily said, grinning, and then her skin changed.

It was another effect of having her demonic nature bolstered in the Demon Realm. True succubi were able to change their shape to match an ideal form for attracting their victims. Lily did not have the full power a succubus had; for one thing she could not change sex. However, she could manage skin pigmentation changes and a few more gross anatomical changes, like manifesting a tail. Now a pattern of roses began to grow up her legs, twining up over her hips, across her back and stomach, circling around her breasts and twining down her arms. In keeping with the other thematic structure, a pair of roses curled down on either side of the rune tattooed above her pubic mound.

‘Beautiful, Lily,’ Twill commented as the half-succubus gave a little twirl.

‘You’ve a tattoo too,’ Ishifa said. ‘Does that one signify something?’

‘That I belong to Ceri,’ Lily replied happily. ‘It’s her personal rune. When a demon gives their loyalty to a Lord, it’s common practice for them to be marked with the Lord’s sigil, and demonologists used to do it with bound demons. I had this put on me to show that I’m hers.’

Ishifa let out a huge sigh, her hands clasped in front of her. ‘That is so romantic.’

Lily giggled. ‘You are so cute. How long until the party starts?’

‘About an hour,’ Ishifa told her.

Ceri glanced at Michael, now dressed in the shirt they had found earlier and a pair of tight, black britches, and some rather nice black boots with studs pressed into the leather. ‘I’d better get dressed then. I think I should put on some make-up as well.’

‘I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you in make-up,’ Michael commented.

‘Because I don’t usually wear any. For the outfit Twill’s got me wearing, however, I think something suitably moody would be appropriate.’

~~~

The conversation dropped in volume, not quite dying away, but definitely quieting down as the bride’s party walked into the Great Hall, heading for the table at the end. The place had filled up as the sun started to set. There were a lot of Sidhe sat on the long benches beside the tables, and a lot of sprites and fairies sitting on the tables or on boxes on the benches. There was also food on the tables, a lot of meat and fruit, and what looked like plates of insects of various sorts laid out for the smaller fae. It was mostly the larger fae who were going quiet, but Ceri noticed that the conversation at the High Table was dropping away as they got closer.

She was sure that the Sidhe were going quiet because of her and Lily. Beautiful, naked, painted half-succubi often had that effect; no big surprise. From the looks Ceri had got from Michael and Lily, she suspected that she was looking pretty good too. Her dress covered the essential areas, but she was naked down both sides apart from three belts. It came with a long, fingerless glove for the left arm, and a short glove and armband for the right. She had added low-heeled, leather boots, and make-up. Her eyelids were shaded with kohl and her lips were painted a dark red. Around her brow was Gorefguhadget’s iron crown. Twill had told her she looked every bit the seductress-witch character she was supposed to be. Even without heels, her hips were swinging enough to make her skirt swish. Ceri felt good.

As for the High Table, that was a tossup between the advancing pair of women and the werewolf leading the way with Ishifa and Twill riding on his shoulders. Aderiel looked somewhat disapproving, perhaps because Ishifa was getting the same treatment as her daughter. The male fairy sitting beside her, resplendent in a paint design of white flowers, did not look so concerned. Actually, he was looking at Lily rather thoughtfully. Twill had said her father was keen on the girls, but Lily was probably a little too large for him.

‘Mother, Father,’ Twill said as they arrived, ‘I would like to introduce my bearers. Ceridwyn Brent, Lily Carpenter, Michael, and Ishifa Bushbottom.’ Ceri thought she heard a stifled squeak from Ishifa at being named as one of the sheelvhori. ‘Bearers, I’d like you to meet Thoranil and Aderiel Wintergreen, my parents.’

Lily dropped a precise curtsey, Michael bowed his head since anything else risked dislodging fairies, and Ceri decided that a bow was more appropriate under the circumstances. Aderiel appeared to be about to speak, but Thoranil bounced up to his feet. He was obviously a little older than his wife, there were more lines on his brow, but he looked as though he probably had no trouble in persuading young fairies to join him in bed still.

‘Welcome. Please join us.’ He spread an arm to indicate the vacant seats to his left.

Aderiel was not going to be stopped, however. ‘It’s sunset, dear. We were hoping one of our guests from such distant parts would light the hearth fire.’

Ceri smiled. Sure, get the trained monkeys to light the fire. ‘Of course. Lil, would you do the honours?’

Lily smiled as well. ‘Of course,’ she said, looking around at the large fireplace with its stack of logs. Lily was nowhere near the magician Ceri was, but her abilities had been enhanced by Barnes and the local magic field made it easier anyway. It took a few seconds of concentration, then the tinder under the wood caught and flames began to rise up. Lily gave a little giggle and then followed the others around to sit at the table.

Ceri turned and smiled at Aderiel. ‘She loves lighting fires. I usually only do funeral pyres.’

Aderiel’s eyebrows went up at that, but she had other business to attend to. As the family matriarch, it was her duty to officially start the celebrations. She stood up and turned to the room. ‘Gentles all, we are gathered together to celebrate the coming of Spring and, tomorrow, the wedding of Joshia Darksun to my daughter, Gloriandel. The sun is set, the fires are alight. Let the festival commence!’

There was a cheer from the assembled fae and the eating and drinking began in earnest. There were, Ceri noticed, no servants tonight. It seemed that the entire population of the castle, staff, family, and guests, were sat at the tables. For tonight there was little distinction between the various social classes, though the family was at the High Table and the guests occupied one of the long tables. There was no real mixing, but everyone was involved.

Ceri took the opportunity to take a proper look at their hosts and what guests she could see. If you included Twill, sat with her bearers at one end of the table, all ten of the Wintergreen children were there. So were four fairies who were married to them, one woman and three men. They all seemed happy enough, though the three husbands appeared to be sucking up to Aderiel and Thoranil quite a lot. The suspicion that they had married into money and needed to cement their hold on it was quite strong.

There was one of the children who seemed more interested in Twill and her friends then the others. She was introduced as Oleander, the eldest daughter of the family. She was still unmarried and had an outlook more like Twill’s than that of their mother. Ceri caught her looking sadly at Twill a couple of times during the evening, as though she felt sorry for her younger sister.

Down at the other end of the table, the Darksun’s were getting into the celebration of Spring quite enthusiastically. All except for Joshia and one of his older brothers who Ceri guessed was Briarin. Joshia actually looked quite depressed, definitely not like someone getting married the following day. Briarin seemed tense, annoyed at times. Despite the fact that Briarin was supposed to be one of Joshia’s bearers the two never seemed to speak to each other.

Over on the long table, the Summerglens seemed quite obvious; they were the ones looking daggers at the Wintergreens. Still, they had been given a place at the nearest end of the table, which either indicated that the Wintergreens did not consider them a threat or that they were putting on a show of defiance. Or maybe that they wanted to keep an eye on them.

Then again it appeared that the table had been organised such that the Seelie occupied one end and the Unseelie the other. In the middle was Ophelia, chatting with three other fae who Ceri guessed also belonged to House Silvershield. It appeared that they were there to act as a buffer between the Seelie fae and the more militant Unseelie. Considering that Lily had described Ophelia as a “murderous bitch” and the woman had more or less admitted to disposing of her last husband, it gave a rather poor impression of the others.

Closest to the door were a group of four Sidhe dressed in black leather which could have been armour. Even from the other end of the room Ceri could make out the black corruption twisting around the Chakral Median of one of them. The man was heavily in the debt of some demon. The others looked clean from where she was sitting; maybe Sheerans, Twill had said they were the warrior side of the partnership.

‘So, you really never knew who my sister really was?’ The question came out of nowhere and Ceri blinked, looking down to see Oleander looking up at her. ‘You never even suspected?’

‘We knew she was hiding from something. She had her secrets, but we respected her privacy. I knew if we needed to know she would tell us. I suppose I should have worked it out when I found out that “Gloriandel Wintergreen” had given us her protection, but we just had the name of some mysterious fae.’

Oleander nodded. ‘She gave up a lot for you.’

Ceri nodded in turn. ‘I know. If there was any way I could change that, I would.’

‘She told you not to, didn’t she?’ Oleander clearly knew her sister quite well.

‘She… asked us not to do anything in a very assertive manner, yes.’

There was a tinkle of wind chimes and Oleander gave a small smile. ‘She was always strong willed. Never afraid to speak her mind. Of course, that’s why she ran away.’ The smile turned into a smirk. ‘I heard you calling her “Twill” earlier?’

‘Uh-huh. That’s what she introduced herself as. We’ve been calling her that for five years.’

‘Twill was the name of a firefly she had as a pet when she was a child.’

‘I loved that bug,’ Twill called out. It would have been cute if she was not holding half of some sort of hard-shelled insect and a small, spoon-like fork which she was using to scoop out the meat.

‘Well,’ Oleander said, ‘I’m only going to start calling you Twill when your bottom lights up.’

Wind chimes and laughter filled the air. It was a party, there was supposed to be laughter, but Ceri caught a disapproving look from Aderiel. Beyond her Joshia sat, not eating, and looked on with sadness in his eyes.

~~~

With most of the food gone, the people started to mix more. Ceri noticed the Silvershield diplomats moving through the crowd making sure that no one got into any arguments, but mostly it seemed that this was the time where assignations were made for later. The pixies were out and about doing their best to snag a fairy for the evening’s entertainment, and they were concentrating mostly on the Wintergreen staff. While the males seemed more forward, the females were flirting and teasing almost as much. Ishifa was sticking close to Michael and Twill, and the ploy seemed to be working since few of the sprites were willing to come near the werewolf.

There were relatively few fae the size of Master Loram, and they were gathered together in one corner. Twill had mentioned that fairies were the smallest trooping fae. Most of the smaller fae were solitary, so it made sense that they would stick to their own kind.

The Sidhe were acting pretty much like humans at a dinner party. Maybe a swinger party, Ceri thought, rather than a more genteel affair. There was more, and more obvious, flirting, but they seemed to be avoiding the little group around Twill, which suited Ceri fine. The Unseelie looked a little over-eager, and the Seelie were too up their own arses. Actually, the Unseelie looked more pleasant than the Seelie, though the only ones Ceri might have considered entertaining where the Silvershields.

It was getting close to midnight when Lily nudged Ceri’s elbow and nodded toward the group of fae who had gravitated close enough to be within audible range. There were the four Arakets and a couple of others who seemed to be from the Seelie end of the table. Ceri glanced at Michael, knowing he would be aware of the potential threat and happy to see that his eyes were on them, even as he appeared to be paying attention to Ishifa, who had had more than a little wine and was distinctly giggly. Ceri concentrated on the magician.

At this range her Sight showed the dimmed glow of an active Chakral Median and the spark of energy which occupied the Sidhe’s stomach area; the energy reserve fae used to fuel their powers and magic. Both Twill and Ishifa had the same energy reserve, and the Sidhe’s was no brighter than theirs. He was probably quite a powerful practitioner, but he relied heavily on his patron demon for that power rather than his own abilities.

‘Surprising that they’d let a dog in here.’ Ceri’s eyes flicked to the speaker, one of the Arakets, the only female in the group. ‘Perhaps we should get a collar and leash.’ The volume was calculated to be loud enough that they could hear it and quiet enough that they were not supposed to. Ceri heard Michael snort; he was used to the behaviour of humans, behaviour Ceri always found incredibly annoying.

‘She’s trying to get Michael to respond.’ It was Ophelia, behind Ceri and whispering in her ear.

‘She doesn’t know him very well,’ Ceri replied quietly, not turning her head.

‘It’s doubtful she’s ever met a human, never mind a werewolf. She’s hoping he’ll say something. Since she’s female it would give her companions the opportunity to call for a duel. Since you’re female, and his mate…’

Ceri was really starting to like the Unseelie, but she might be trying to cause trouble. On the other hand Twill was looking up at Ceri and nodding. And the fairy was wearing a malicious sort of grin. Ceri looked back at the Araket Sidhe, catching her eyes and giving her the kind of smile tigers gave lunch. Lifting her hand, Ceri beckoned the woman over.

‘Her name is Bolinda,’ Ophelia murmured before backing away.

Bolinda pulled herself up straight and swaggered closer. ‘Is there something I can do for you, human?’

Ceri felt anger swelling and did not try to keep it off her face. She leaned forward and Bolinda pulled back slightly, shock showing on her face. ‘My mate,’ Ceri said softly, ‘is quite used to ignorant people making insults at his expense. He gives them all the attention they deserve, none. Unfortunately, I’m not as tolerant. And I’m not human.’

The Sidhe’s throat bobbed as she tried to maintain her composure. ‘My apologies, Lady. I meant no offence.’

‘Yes you did. Now take your little gaggle of playground bullies and find someone else to annoy.’

Bolinda backed away and Ceri sat up straight, blinking and then turning to smile at Twill. The fairy was frowning. ‘What did you do with your eyes?’

‘Huh?’

‘They… changed. The pupils shrank and there was a lot more blue in them, and they glowed…’

‘It’s when you get angry,’ Lily said. ‘Maybe when you use a lot of power. At least the glowing. It was happening a lot when we were on the demons’ world.’

‘They did?’ Ceri slumped slightly. ‘Another change? Great.’

‘I’m not surprised she was scared,’ Twill said. ‘You looked scary.’ Her lips twitched. ‘You’ve no idea how hard it was to stop myself laughing.’

Ceri shook her head, smiling. ‘Someone get me some fae wine. I’m not nearly drunk enough to have glowing blue crazy eyes.’

~~~

They left the party when Ishifa developed a case of hiccups and Ceri had to still it with a spell. The little maid rode back to the guest suite on Michael’s shoulder, clinging to his neck and giggling repeatedly. Her paint job was a little smudged.

‘You’re rilly perity f’r a human, y’know?’ Ishifa said as they walked.

‘She’s going to be a bit embarrassed about this in the morning,’ Ceri commented to Twill, who was holding onto the collar of her dress.

‘Oh yes,’ Twill replied, smirking.

‘I’m not actually human,’ Michael told Ishifa. He had had a couple of glasses of wine, but not nearly enough to impair his senses. His eyes scanned the courtyard as he walked.

‘No, you’re the big bad wolf,’ Ishifa replied, giggling. ‘Rilly… rilly big.’ She let out a deep sigh.

‘Do you think Michael would be willing?’ Twill asked.

‘You really want to do that to her?’ Ceri replied.

‘I want you to do it to me too. It might be the last chance I get.’

‘Don’t say that.’ Ceri’s tone was a little plaintive. ‘Are you allowed to do that the night before your wedding?’

‘I have no doubt Joshia is entertaining a couple of our maids. I don’t see why I can’t have fun with my friends.’

‘Okay,’ Ceri said, feeling a little sad despite what she knew was coming. ‘You’re right. Why not?’

There were no threats evident around the castle, but Ceri still sealed the door and the hatch in the eaves with magic once they were inside. Twill had flown over to Michael while she was doing it and when Ceri turned to look, Ishifa had been placed on the bed where she was lying back, holding herself up on her arms. Ceri walked over to Lily, who was grinning mischievously, and took her hand.

‘Mind if I run this through you, Lil? I don’t know what I may need tomorrow.’

Lily giggled. ‘Of course not, Mistress.’

‘I’s a shame you’re so big and I’m jus’ liddle,’ Ishifa slurred.

Ceri smirked and pulled power through Lily, feeling the half-succubus shiver at the thrill of it. She focussed her will and light danced around the fairy maid. A few seconds later Ishifa’s long legs were touching the floor and Twill flitted over to hover in front of her face.

‘Mistress Gloriandel?’ Ishifa asked. ‘How come you’re all tiny?’

Twill’s wind chime laugh floated though the room and she danced a little closer. ‘You’re bigger, silly girl. Turn over, werewolves are very fond of that position and it’s much easier on your wings.’ Ishifa’s eyes widened as Michael started to undress.

Chuckling, Ceri drew more power through Lily, this time getting a whimper, and a second later Twill was lowering herself quickly to the floor as she started to grow. Whenever they had done this before they had made the fairy grow to around four feet tall, but this time Ceri made her a full human height, as she had done with Ishifa, and the differences in physiology were very apparent. Despite the fact that her wings were there for steering more than power, Twill’s shoulder muscles were more developed than a typical human, and her legs were hugely out of proportion. As the growing stopped, the fae stretched, reaching up on tip-toes, her fingers brushing the relatively low ceiling. Her wings stretched out, fluttering.

‘Sometimes,’ she said, ‘it’s rather nice to be big.’

Lily giggled and walked, almost prowled, toward her, her body shifting as she went. On one step she was just Lily with flower patterns on her skin, on the next a long, prehensile tail decorated with the same roses was curling up around her waist. ‘Uh-huh. Let me show you a new trick I learned.’

A squeal of delight came from the bed and Ceri grinned. She moved over to the chairs and sat down, watching as Lily’s tail slid around Twill’s left thigh and the giant fairy let out a little gasp. Ceri was not quite ready to join them yet. It all felt a little sad to her, but there was something else, a feeling she could not put her finger on. She had the odd feeling that someone should be keeping watch.

February 1st

Ceri opened her eyes and looked up at the red drapes which formed the canopy of the bed. She smiled and looked down to where a pair of fairies were curled up on her chest. Michael lay on her right, Lily on her left. All of them were still asleep, even Twill who was normally an early riser. It had been a long night.

The weird feeling of tension Ceri had been feeling had just vanished at around two in the morning bringing with it a feeling of relief. The others had been flagging by then and they suddenly had a rather pleased, and enthusiastic, Ceri on their hands. The last thing she remembered before sleep had claimed her was hanging on the end of a succubus prolonged orgasm with all four of her friends working on her in one way or another.

There was no clock in the room, but a tiny exertion of power told her the local time. It was late morning and the ceremony would be starting in a couple of hours. It was time to get ready, but Ceri was surprised to find that she was not feeling sad about it now. Something had changed during the night and she was distinctly unsure of what it was, but whatever it was it made her feel better.

A couple of nudges were enough to have everyone else mumbling, groaning, and generally waking up with various levels of complaint. ‘I’ll go and run a bath,’ Ishifa said, rising into the air falteringly. ‘I am sticky in places I never expected to be sticky.’

Lily giggled. ‘Did you enjoy yourself?’

‘Well, I’ve not had much experience with men.’ She hovered near the taps in the bathroom and water began to flood from one of them. Soon steam was rising. ‘And I’ve never had a woman do… well, I’ve never had a woman. What you did to me was… was…’

‘Incredible?’ Ceri suggested. ‘Just be careful. You can get addicted to the sex.’

Ishifa turned in the air, looking at Ceri. ‘But you live with her, sleep with her all the time…’

‘And I get jittery when I don’t have sex with her regularly.’

‘Oh. Oh well it shouldn’t be a problem. I doubt I’ll get the opportunity again.’ She flitted closer to Ceri and grinned. ‘I could get used to your mate too.’

Ceri grinned back. ‘You should try it when he’s furry.’

The bath was big enough for all three full-sized people to bathe together, which was quicker, but fraught with temptation. They were being self-controlled, however, despite the fact that Lily and Michael were picking up on Ceri’s good humour. There was a bit of groping, but they were mostly good.

The two fairies set about washing each other on the edge of the bath using small cloths. Ishifa thought she should be doing all the work, but Twill was very insistent. Ceri was pretty sure she had never seen Twill bathing before; the fairy was fairly private about, well, her private life. It made sense that she would wash like this really since getting her wings wet was probably not a good idea.

Clean, the party got dressed. All except for Twill anyway. The bride and groom would be naked for the ceremony, demonstrating that they came to the union with no ill intentions, supposedly. Ceri re-did her makeup and put her dress, boots, and gloves back on. Michael was in more or less the same outfit as the night before, but there was a more formal, longer, tunic in jet black with silver studs decorating it. Ishifa had a short, white, backless dress in fine silk. She looked distinctly pleased with it. Lily’s dress was highly asymmetric; a wrap-around skirt and a top which fell from one shoulder to her hip where it was joined to the skirt by a chord with a flower woven into it. There was a wreath of green fronds and pink flowers in her hair, and another band around her arm. The dress shaded from a dark blue at the top to a pale blue at the bottom. She was barefoot.

Twill nodded at the half-succubus when her outfit was assembled. ‘Perfect. A real Spring Princess.’ She looked all four of them over and nodded again. ‘Ceri, you should take your staff, I think. We proceed to the ceremony site and the four of you encircle me while we wait for Joshia. Is everyone ready?’

‘We all are,’ Ceri said. Twill looked at her; it was a slightly odd turn of phrase, as though someone else was not.

‘Then let’s go.’

There seemed to be a lot of frantic activity on the far side of the courtyard when they left their rooms. There seemed to be fairies and sprites rushing around frantically, as well as all four of the Silvershield Sidhe who were moving slower, but with a lot of determination. None of them seemed to be Joshia, though Ceri did spot Briarin amongst the crowd, flickers of red light dancing around him as he flitted in and out of one of the buildings.

Still, Twill’s party had their appointed task, so they ignored everyone else and headed for the gates. Ceri had her Sight turned on this time and she saw the path of the local ley line which followed the main road past the castle compound. It appeared that they were going to follow it as they exited the gate and turned left. The road became more of a track after a hundred yards; the ground was more heavily rutted and clearly not maintained, but some carts apparently used it. After another two hundred yards or so, the track split, heading off toward local farms, but the line kept going and Ceri spotted something up ahead which she guessed was going to be the site for the ceremony.

At some point in the past, someone had raised an earthen mound maybe ten feet in height and fifty yards across, and then put up two standing stones around ten feet in height and five feet apart. It would have likely been more impressive if they had not had substantial magic power available to do the heavy lifting. Then again, when Stonehenge had been built they had had giants to help.

There was a lake on the far side of the mound and, rather than crossing the water, the ley line split to either side of it. As a result Ceri found herself looking at a substantial flare of magical energy at the little monument. Ceri figured that the average thaumic level of Otherworld was about a thaum; substantial, but not especially high. At the mound it was hard to get a good idea of the level, but she was guessing at ten to twelve thaums, substantially stronger. It was hotter here than at Stonehenge.

Lily eyed the little henge, her eyes narrowing a little. ‘Michael, maybe you should have a quick look around.’ The werewolf nodded and moved ahead, darting around to the side of the mound to circle it.

‘The level’s high to about ten feet outside the mound,’ Ceri said. ‘I can’t see any disturbances in it.’

Michael emerged from the back of the mound and waved them forward. ‘There have been sprites up here overnight,’ he said when they approached. ‘I think there was one fairy, a female.’

‘I suspect we can guess what they were up to then,’ Twill said, a smirk on her face.

Michael shrugged. ‘Seems like a lot of sprites for one fairy, but yeah.’ He turned and moved ahead to check the ground on the mound itself, but there were no traps he could see and neither Ceri nor Lily could sense anything magical outside the natural field.

Moving to the stone on the right they waited, each of the sheelvhori looking out in a different direction in case of trouble. None came. In fact, after half an hour, no one was showing any signs of coming at all.

‘Did we get the day wrong?’ Lily asked, her eyes on the copse of lush, green trees about a hundred yards from the mound.

‘As far as I’m aware,’ Ceri replied, ‘time doesn’t run backwards here.’ She frowned. ‘There was a lot of activity over on the other side of the courtyard where the Darksuns were staying.’ Bits and pieces of that activity started leaping out at her as she remembered it. Her dragon pendant was supposed to give her insight into things, but she was starting to think that it only did that when she was actually paying attention. Luckily, it also gave her picture perfect memory. ‘They were looking for something.’

‘Or someone?’ Michael suggested

‘Maybe. What makes you say that?’

‘Well, I got a scent of a couple of sprites and the fairy heading off toward those trees.’

Ceri was looking toward the castle, there was no sign of anyone approaching. ‘Okay, let’s check it out. There’s no one coming up the track.’

Michael dropped to his knees and sniffed at the ground and then started off across the lush grass toward the trees. ‘Two, maybe three sprites,’ he said as they walked. ‘Just the one fairy. From the scent you were right about what they were up to. The fairy smells just like Ishifa did last night.’

‘Hey!’ the fairy maid squeaked.

Michael chuckled and then dropped low again as they reached the treeline. ‘In here. Straight in from what I can tell. Maybe they were looking for somewhere more secluded.’ They walked on into the trees, all of them watching for any sign of trouble. It could have been a trap of some sort, but Ceri’s magic could detect nothing living aside from bugs and a few squirrels. Then Michael came to a stop, his head lifting. ‘I smell blood.’ He sniffed again, turning his head a little, and then started off to the left.

‘Shit,’ Ceri muttered as they found the first body. It was naked and male, but it was difficult to tell whether she knew him because his head was missing. Behind her Ishifa let out a squeal and Ceri heard Twill comforting her, but Ceri was getting used to finding disfigured corpses; her training as a police Special Advisor cut in and she found herself examining the corpse with a professional eye. ‘Bladed weapon. The wound is clean. Probably a single blow delivered while he was in the air from the way the body fell.’

‘The head is here,’ Lily said, parting the grass under one of the trees. ‘I don’t recognise him.’

Ceri moved over and looked down. ‘He was on the long table. Not one of the Darksuns. I didn’t get all the names along there.’

‘Over here,’ Michael called from a few feet further on. The two women moved around a tree and discovered two more bodies lying one atop the other in the short grass. Someone had driven a blade, likely a knife, through the sprite’s back, the fairy beneath, and probably the soil under them both. ‘Jealous lover?’ Michael suggested.

Ceri looked up and around. ‘No… no, I don’t think so.’ She pointed at another of the trees. ‘I think they were collateral damage.’

About five feet off the ground, pinned to a tree by a long, black-hilted dagger through his stomach, was Joshia.

~~~

‘I may not have wanted to marry him,’ Twill said, ‘but he did not deserve to die like that.’ They had returned to the castle and were waiting in the guest suite while various people rushed about like headless chickens outside.

‘There are a whole lot of suspects available,’ Ceri said, ‘and no real evidence aside from that dagger.’ She, Lily, and Twill had stayed in the trees while Michael and Ishifa had gone back to get help. It gave them the opportunity to look around, but there had been nothing much to find. If someone had used a spell to mask themselves, any residue was lost in the natural background. Ceri could find no tracks.

‘The only scents were from the bodies,’ Michael commented. ‘There had to have been someone else there, but they left no traces.’

‘There are spells which can mask scent,’ Twill told him, ‘and erase tracks. A lot of assassins here know how to do it.’

‘That leaves the dagger,’ Ceri said, ‘but I couldn’t get any impressions off it. They wiped that clean too.’

‘I know he didn’t deserve it,’ Lily said. ‘I mean, all he could think about at the dinner last night was this girl he wanted. A sprite, not Twill. I’m sure he really loved her. But… Twill can’t get married now. Do we really care who killed him?’

It was a valid point. The Darksuns were in uproar, of course. Ceri had not seen a whole lot of grief, though that might have come along once the anger was over with. The Wintergreens were just as angry, and blaming just about everyone. Ceri could tell that Aderiel was suspicious of Twill and her friends, but she was also unwilling to suggest they had anything to do with it in front of the Unseelie.

There had been Arakets milling about, watching the goings on, and the Summerglens who were looking about as smug as their Unseelie fellow guests. The Silvershields were trying to keep a lid on things, but they had looked very worried, especially Ophelia. Thinking back on the glimpse Ceri had had of the woman, she had looked slightly distracted, and far more worried than Ceri would have expected.

A muffled curse from near the front door made everyone look in that direction. A second or so later Oleander’s voice could be heard through the little doorway in the eaves. ‘Hey! I didn’t think it was even possible to lock this. Let me in, I’ve got a message from Dad.’

Ceri gave a short laugh and reached out her will to break the locking charm on the hatch. ‘It’s open, Oleander. Come in.’

The fairy appeared from the eaves a second later, swooping down to settle on Michael’s lap beside her sister without bothering to ask whether this was okay. The werewolf’s smirk suggested he did not mind, but noted that Oleander had not considered it might be considered wrong.

Oleander straightened her back and announced, ‘Lord Thoranil Wintergreen requests that you go to the Great Hall within the next fifteen minutes where an announcement will be made regarding the identity of Joshia Darksun’s murderer.’

Ceri gave her a frown. ‘They know who did it?’

The fairy had relaxed again now that her official duty was done with and she gave a shrug. ‘Supposedly. I heard someone say they’d worked out who the dagger belonged to. I didn’t get a name though.’ She glanced toward Twill, her expression becoming unhappy. ‘Mother has been talking to Qualika, trying to negotiate for Briarin to marry you instead. She’s been avoiding doing it in front of me, but I’ve got my spies among the staff. The two old bitches are determined to salvage this. Sorry.’

‘But Briarin is one of the suspects!’ Lily said, her voice a little louder than necessary.

‘He’s also a sadistic little prick,’ Twill growled, ‘if you’ll pardon my Anglo-Saxon. I’d rather marry a swamp troll.’

‘We’d better get going,’ Ceri said. ‘We can see about dealing with Briarin and the matriarchs once the murderer is caught.’

The Great Hall was filling up when they arrived, but people parted without comment to allow the party through to the front. The Wintergreens and Darksuns were standing on the high table, Thoranil slightly to the front with the still bloody dagger which had killed Joshia in front of him. Ceri could see the Silvershields standing in the front rank; Ophelia looked anxious. The family’s putative head appeared to have been waiting for his wayward daughter to arrive. As soon as he saw her on Michael’s shoulder he spoke.

‘Let’s have some quiet.’ The noise in the room subsided in a wave from the front to the back. ‘As you all know by now, Joshia Darksun was murdered last night. This is the dagger used to kill him and we have identified its owner.’ He paused. ‘Ophelia Silvershield, surrender yourself.’ A wave of noise rushed across the assembled fae; some of it disbelieving, some of it sounding satisfied, some just outraged.

‘I didn’t kill him!’ Ophelia cried out over the clamour. ‘I came to the feast unarmed and the dagger was gone when I returned to our rooms. I did not kill him. Why would I?’

Ceri scanned the crowd. Most of the Wintergreens and Darksuns were looking grim, but Briarin was wearing an expression more like grim satisfaction. The other members of the Silvershield faction looked shocked. The Summerglens appeared, if anything, amused, and the Arakets were not hiding their smiles. Most of the smiles looked somewhat relieved however.

‘Your dagger was found in the body,’ Thoranil said, his voice rising in anger. ‘If you deny the truth, your guilt will be determined by…’

‘She’s telling the truth,’ Ceri said. ‘It makes no sense…’

‘Ceri!’ Twill hissed. She rose into the air and flew over to hover in front of Ceri’s face. ‘Don’t. You don’t know what you’re doing.’

‘Ceridwyn Brent,’ Thoranil intoned, ‘do you stand as Advocate to Ophelia Silvershield?’

Twill turned in the air, glaring at her father. ‘Wait. She doesn’t understand what that means.’

‘You mustn’t, Ceri,’ Ophelia added. She looked shocked and that, more than anything, made Ceri listen to Twill.

‘If you declare yourself her Advocate,’ the fairy explained, her voice low, ‘you’ve the right to investigate the murder in order to clear her name.’

‘Well, good…’

‘But you’ll be clearing your name too. If she’s eventually found guilty, you’ll be judged guilty of the same crime!’

‘Oh… But she’s not the murderer, Twill. Aside from anything else it makes no sense. Why would she use her own knife? Blank the history, but use her own blade? She’s not that stupid. She’s being framed.’

‘Are you sure about this?’ Twill asked, her tone intense. Ceri nodded. Around her, Lily and Michael nodded.

‘Me too,’ Ishifa whispered, just as intensely.

‘Very well,’ Twill said, turning back to her father. ‘We will act as Advocates to Ophelia Silvershield, Father.’

‘No!’ Aderiel shrieked from behind her husband.

‘I know what you were planning, Mother,’ Twill said, her voice dripping acid. ‘You and Qualika. I’ve had enough! I’m not going to be your pawn anymore. I’d rather be judged guilty of murder and executed.’

Interlude

Kennington, London, July 13th, 2007

Gloriandel was used to the routine in what she had learned was “High Towers” by now. She was a little surprised to see the auburn-haired girl, who was called Lily, walking into the kitchen in a jersey-dress rather than the microscopic garment which was her working uniform. Apparently the other one, Ceri, was surprised too.

‘Not going to work?’ Ceri asked, looking up from her magazine.

‘Yes, I am,’ Lily replied, ‘but it’s Friday the Thirteenth.’

‘Yeah, I know. So?’

‘So… Carter puts on special events for that kind of thing. Special costumes. I think he’s dressing us all as pixies or something.’

Ceri giggled. ‘From what I remember, pixies don’t wear clothes much. You should be right at home.’

‘I don’t think even Carter would have us prancing around starkers.’ Lily was smirking, however. She seemed to undress every chance she got. Gloriandel had worked out the girl was not entirely human, but not yet exactly what she was.

‘You have seen what you normally wear, right?’ Ceri countered, and Gloriandel thought she had a point. The dress Lily usually wore had more holes than cloth, and was so short that it barely hid the girl’s dignity. Of course Gloriandel did not wear clothes much herself, but she was used to big people being more… uptight about their bodies. The first time Gloriandel had seen Lily in the dress she had assumed the girl was a stripper.

‘The Jade Dragon,’ Lily said primly, ‘is not that kind of establishment.’

Ceri smiled. ‘I know, Lil. I’m just joking.’

Lily giggled back. ‘I know you were, and I’ll probably be more naked than usual. It is a special occasion.’

~~~

Ceri was studying. She was a studious sort of girl and Gloriandel had decided she like her. It seemed the young human was studying for a degree in thaumatology. It was a uniquely human subject to be studying; fae, and demons, tended to view magic as an art rather than a science. Humans liked classifying things. They liked studying things, taking them apart to see how they ticked. When magic had returned to their world, and after the shock had worn off, the humans had made a science out of magic.

As far as Gloriandel could tell, Ceri was exceptionally good at it, despite having no talent for magic. Being a magician was not necessary to study magic as a science, of course, but it gave an insight into the workings which did help. Ceri had none of that, but she still seemed to grasp the subject on an intuitive level. Her parents had been enchanters, adept crafters of magical items. They were both dead, but they had left their daughter protected by one of their enchantments, the tattoos on her arms. Gloriandel had yet to see what the enchantment did, but she had worked out it was powerful. Perhaps Ceri had developed her insight into magic by watching her parents.

On the other hand, maybe it was something else. Ceri was looking around the room suddenly, as though she realised she was being watched. There was no way she could know Gloriandel was there…

‘Is someone there?’ Ceri asked the apparently empty room.

Frowning, the fairy darted off, out of the study and up the stairs to the attic. Behind her, Ceri shrugged and went back to her studies.

July 14th

Lily came in through the front doors, taking off her coat and hanging it up on the stand beside the door. Gloriandel had never, ever, seen a pixie dressed like that. There were green, paper four-leaf clovers glued all over her upper body and a green skirt which would have made a good belt just about covering her lower body. The woman walked across the hall in six-inch heels with inhuman grace. There had to be some fae or something in her blood.

It was as she was starting up the stairs that she stopped, frowned, and looked around. She looked right at the invisible fairy on the balustrade and Gloriandel held her breath. Seeing nothing, Lily shrugged and carried on up the stairs. A few seconds later the shower was running.

Gloriandel considered the possibility that she had stayed too long here as she flitted into the kitchen. She kept herself hidden a lot, and moved around behind her invisibility when she was in the open, but still the two girls were starting to notice her. Sort of anyway. They were obviously starting to feel something around the house, though they had never connected their odd feelings.

Gloriandel looked at the pile of dirty dishes in the sink and frowned. Well, she could stay a little longer, and her sense of order was positively incensed by the dirty dishes. They were going to have to go.

July 25th

‘You know,’ Ceri said, ‘you don’t have to keep doing the dishes. You’re the one working. I can do them too.’

Lily looked across the kitchen at her from where she was leaning against the counter, naked as usual, with a mug of coffee in her hands. ‘I haven’t done any dishes in a week or more. I thought you were doing them before I got up.’

Ceri frowned. ‘I thought you were doing them after I went to bed. Must be the dishes fairy.’

Lily giggled. ‘Yeah, sure.’

‘When I was a kid,’ Ceri said, all serious, ‘and I didn’t clean my room for ages, I’d come home from school and discover everything had been tidied up and I could never find anything. When I complained my mother would tell me she hadn’t done it, it was the room-tidy fairy. If I wanted to be sure where everything was I should tidy up myself before the fairy came and did it for me.’

‘There is no such thing as a “room-tidy fairy,”’ Lily said emphatically. ‘If there was she’d have been at my room every week.’

‘Of course not, but I did start tidying my room more regularly. That’s not the question though?’

‘What’s the question?’

‘If you’re not the dishes fairy, and I’m not the dishes fairy, who is?’

Part Two: Never Make Deals with Fae

Wintergreen Estates, Otherworld, February 1st, 2013

Ophelia Silvershield was pacing. She was very good at it; upright, but with slightly hunched shoulders. She looked nervous and angry, and she had a right to be. A little of the anger was reserved for the group of people in the room with her, however, which was less understandable, though Ceri could see where she was coming from.

‘You’re crazy, the lot of you,’ the Sidhe stated. ‘I sort of understand why you did it, Lady Gloriandel. I wouldn’t want to be forced into a marriage with that son of a gut worm either. The rest of you? Do you even understand what you’re getting yourselves into?’

‘Twill explained, yes,’ Ceri replied, her voice calm.

‘If you can’t prove it was someone else… No! If you can’t find the someone else who did it, they’ll execute the lot of you along with me. Or worse, they’ll take those bracelets off you and put you in the Banquet Grove.’

Ceri raised an eyebrow at Twill, sat on Michael’s knees again with Ishifa beside her. ‘You know the old stories about humans finding their way here?’ the fairy asked. ‘They would come upon a fairy feast, spend the night eating, drinking, and bedding fae maidens, and then return to find a century has passed? That’s the Banquet Grove. Even the fae sent there lose track of time. It’s a life sentence and if you spend more than a few hours there… It does things to your mind.’

‘And it’s a favourite punishment for humans,’ Ophelia added. ‘You’re risking your lives, and a huge political incident, for me. You don’t even know me! Well, Lily knows me and she thinks I’m a psychotic, conniving, assassin.’

‘You are,’ Lily agreed, ‘but you’re professional and you’re not stupid. If you wanted to kill Joshia, you would have got someone else to do it, and you wouldn’t have used your own weapon and then hung around to be arrested. You brokered this alliance. You wouldn’t have screwed it up anyway.’

‘You people have been watching me for a while, yes?’ Ceri said. ‘The Black Lady, she’s been keeping an eye on me and I’m pretty sure both the Seelie and Unseelie Courts have been watching me. I’ve got a terribly over-developed sense of justice. I stick my nose in where it’s not wanted and I’ve almost had it blown off before because of it. Did you really expect me to stand by and let you be framed for this?’

Ophelia sagged a little. ‘Okay, yes. Lily and Michael wouldn’t let you do this alone… But you,’ she pointed at Ishifa, ‘you’re just a maid…’

‘Mistress Glor…’ Ishifa stopped, considered what she was saying, and started again. ‘Mistress Twill has been good to me, so have her friends. I can help.’

‘You’re mad, all of you,’ Ophelia stated, ‘but… thank you.’

‘Right,’ Ceri said, a slight grin on her face, ‘could you stop with the pacing and maybe help us figure this out?’

‘Who would want you implicated in the murder?’ Michael asked. Ceri’s grin broadened; her mate was becoming more like a detective as time went on.

The Sidhe walked over and curled herself onto the loveseat beside Lily. ‘Most of my enemies are back on Earth. I’ve been there since the fifties. I’d have heard about any of them coming here. Silvershield is pretty good at intelligence gathering. It’s our stock-in-trade.’ Her nose wrinkled. ‘There are a couple of people in the House who would like to see me out of the way so they can take my job, but I’m not sure any of them would risk messing up this deal. The House stands to gain a lot of leverage.’

‘What about enemies of your House then?’ Michael went on. ‘If you’re convicted, surely that would be bad for the Silvershields too?’

‘I’ve taken steps to reduce that kind of injury. I’ve resigned my position until this is sorted out.’ She swallowed hard before going on. ‘But yes, it would more than likely cast suspicion on my House. Uh… the Arakets and Wildhorns hate our guts. There’s a Seelie family, the Sunhounds, who do similar diplomatic work to us. They went out of favour with House Alberich after they were caught collecting information on Oberon. They would love to see us out of the picture. House Alberich is rumoured to be less than pleased about the alliance between the Wintergreens and the Darksuns, but I don’t think they’d harm us to break it.’

‘That’s one more family to add to the list of suspects then,’ Lily commented. ‘If you’ve resigned your position, does that mean we can’t expect help from your House?’

‘Not official help. We may be able to get information from them, unofficially.’ She looked over at Ishifa. ‘You’d make a good go-between.’

‘I can do that,’ Ishifa agreed.

‘We need all the current information we can get on everyone with a vested interest in seeing this alliance broken,’ Ceri said.

‘Talk to Lorian next door,’ Ophelia told Ishifa. ‘He’ll get the request to the House. It’ll take some time though.’

Michael nodded. ‘How much time do we have?’

‘We’ll be leaving here tomorrow morning,’ Twill said. ‘We have to plead our case to the Royal Court. If they agree there’s sufficient evidence that someone else might have done it we’ll be given until the full moon to investigate further.’

‘It’s about two days travel to the Summer Palace,’ Ophelia added. ‘We can hope to get some information by then.’

‘If we get there,’ Ceri said. ‘If it were me, I’d try to make sure we never got to argue the case.’

‘Now there’s a pleasant thought,’ Ophelia commented, though she did not appear to be disagreeing.

North Lands, southbound from the Wintergreen Estates, February 2nd

Ophelia was propped on the carriage seat between Michael and Lily. Exactly how she was managing to sleep on the rolling vehicle Ceri had no idea, but it might have had something to do with not getting much sleep during the night.

Since Michael had far more experience than any of them in sleeping on the ground, he had elected to give the bed to the women. By the early hours of the morning, Ceri was considering joining him because Ophelia was sleeping fitfully at best. They had finally managed to get some sleep when the Sidhe had got out of bed and gone to sit in the chair beside the unlit fire. She had stayed there until everyone else had got up, as far as Ceri knew.

Their carriage was one of a veritable procession making its way through the verdant countryside of Otherworld. Almost all the guests were heading back to their respective homes, and very few of them lived north of the Wintergreens’ lands. The Silvershields, except for Ophelia, had ridden out of the castle at first light and were not among the train. The Summerglens had peeled off the track at the end of the morning, heading east toward their own lands. Pretty much everyone else was there still, and the train was being escorted by around two dozen Sidhe guardsmen. That did not stop Ceri, Lily, and Michael watching the surrounding landscape as they passed over it.

They had passed the edge of the Wintergreen estates after about two hours travel, entering light woodland which acted as the natural southern boundary. The Summerglens had peeled off around forty-five minutes later when the trees had thinned, turning into scrubland, and a track had appeared crossing the wider one they were on. From there it was largely open country they had been passing through, and there had been no sign of anyone about. Twill had explained that the wide, grassy plains were used mostly for hunting. When the summer weather had come fully into effect there would be herds of wild cattle and deer roaming the grasslands.

They were pulling into a village which Twill said was called Allenville when Ophelia’s eyes flickered open. She stretched and yawned, and looked out of the carriage window. ‘Huh, this place. I hope we aren’t stopping.’

‘Not nice?’ Ceri asked.

‘The wine and food are substandard, and the prices are too high. They’re too far from anywhere civilised to have a good supply line, and far enough from anywhere civilised to charge what they like.’

The carriage turned, and then came to a stop. ‘Looks like we’re stopping,’ Lily commented.

‘I smelled rabbits just before we arrived,’ Michael commented.

‘You catch them, I can cook them,’ Twill said.

Michael started taking his clothes off.

~~~

Various people in the wagon train looked a little envious when they spotted the little group sitting on the edge of the village eating roasted rabbit. There was only water to go with it, but no one was complaining.

‘I’m not really much for camping,’ Ophelia commented, ‘but this is really kind of nice. My compliments to the chef.’

‘I thought fae were the ultimate naturalists,’ Ceri said. ‘I’d have thought you’d love being out in the country. Living off the land. Sleeping under the stars.’

‘Sure. And that’s why we build huge castles.’ The Sidhe grinned. ‘I live in a city! I like plumbing, and mattresses, and roofs that keep the rain off.’ She tore off meat from a leg she was holding, chewed for a few seconds, and then added, ‘There are fae who do like the outdoors, of course.’

‘Did your mother never tell you not to speak with your mouth full, young lady?’ Twill asked.

Ophelia looked a little surprised at being told off by a fairy, but she swallowed before continuing. ‘My mother kicked me out of the house as soon as I was seventy-two. She wasn’t big on manners. Anyway, the Wildhorns, for example. They think fae should live in the wilds, live off the land… you know, sleep under the stars.’

‘And, since they’re Unseelie,’ Twill added, ‘they believe in being unruly.’

‘I’m Unseelie and I don’t believe that,’ Ophelia replied, pouting a little.

‘The Silvershields are a very… modern House.’ The fairy looked thoughtful. ‘I sometimes think that four centuries of rule by the Seelie Court is reducing the distinctions between the two viewpoints.’

‘You think the Unseelie are going soft?’

‘Soft? More diplomatic, less callous. However, I was more thinking that Seelie politics is growing more harsh, more goal-driven rather than idealistic.’

Ophelia gave a small shrug. ‘I’m not old enough to remember what it was like when there were two courts, and you’re younger than me.’

‘Really?’ Ceri asked. ‘How old are you? Uh, if you don’t mind me asking.’

‘A little under three hundred. Still a girl, really. I mean, if you take into account how long I’ll live, I’m a teenager. Well, kind of.’ She frowned. ‘That’s assuming I don’t get executed at the next full moon, of course.’

‘Not going to happen,’ Ceri told her. ‘I don’t plan to end up dead or partying until I’m insane, so you’re not getting executed.’

‘Still might end up dead,’ Michael commented in far too relaxed a tone. He pointed out across the grassland outside the village. ‘Those things don’t look like they’re planning on stopping by for tea.’

Ceri turned to look over her shoulder. Five hulking figures were running across the grass toward them. Each looked to be around eight or nine feet in height with huge, muscular limbs and bodies. They appeared to be carrying clubs made out of tree limbs ripped directly off the tree. ‘Are those…?’

‘Mountain trolls,’ Ophelia said.

‘Out of their normal habitat,’ Twill agreed.

‘You think they want to talk?’ Ceri asked. One of the trolls let out a roar, brandishing his club in the air, and the others followed suit. Ceri rose to her feet, her staff in her left hand. A ball of orange, flickering light began to grow in her right palm. ‘I’ll take that as a no.’

Behind her, Lily took a pair of sai, three-pronged, blunt edged weapons, from her bag and got ready to fight. She had selected a black dress to wear, the wide skirt making it easy to move. Michael stood and got rid of his britches again; he had not bothered with the rest of his clothes yet and he was in fur and ready a second later.

Ceri waited for the trolls to get into range, her eyes narrowing as she took aim, and then let the ball of light fly. It hit the ground just in front of the leader of the trolls at around fifty yards from them and exploded. It was as though a small nuclear bomb had gone off. Fire rippled out across the grass like a tidal wave; they felt the heat of it even where they were standing. When the flame died away the leader was on his back, looking very charred and very dead. The other four were still moving, but slower. All of them were hurt and Ceri was amazed that they were actually still trying to attack. She pulled more power through her staff, the blue enamel beginning to glow as she did so, and took aim at one of the other trolls.

‘What are you waiting for?’ Ophelia asked, her voice urgent.

‘A better target,’ Ceri replied, and then let another bolt fly. This one was blue-white and punched through the chest of its target. The troll stumbled and then crashed to the ground, leaving a rut in the burned grass. She readied another bolt, but the remaining creatures seemed to decide that the odds had turned against them. Turning, they began to stumble off the way they had come. Ceri let the tension go from her body and closed her hand around the energy she had gathered.

‘You’re letting them go?’ Their resident Unseelie seemed a little upset that Ceri was allowing their attackers to live.

‘I’m not into killing dumb animals. Besides, it takes a helluva lot of power to do that kind of thing and I’m a sorceress, not a goddess.’ Ceri started across the huge patch of scorched grass toward the nearest body.

Up close, the unburned skin looked grey and kind of stony. The trolls had thick hide, small eyes, and short tusks protruding from their lower jaws. The leader had been wearing a rough loincloth, but the other was naked, and about as pretty as a malformed pig. He also had an odd tattoo on his shoulder. It was quite complex and Ceri recognised the form, if not the meaning.

‘Neemoord?’ she said. ‘That mean anything?’

Ophelia frowned at her, so did Twill. ‘It’s High Fae. “Discord.” How can you read High Fae?’

Ceri shrugged. ‘I didn’t know I could. ‘That’s a Draconic glyph. Their ideograms are phonetic. I don’t know what it means, but I can pronounce it. High Fae is written in Draconic glyphs?’

‘Historically,’ Twill replied. ‘As in, a long time ago. Mostly it’s written in Ogham now, but you still see some documents written in Old High Fae at Court. There aren’t many scribes who know it these days, and few others who can read it.’

‘Huh,’ Ceri grunted. ‘Well, Huanglong is supposed to have given writing to the Chinese. Maybe a dragon did the same for the fae. “Discord.” Doesn’t it seem odd that a brute like this would have that written on his shoulder?’

‘They aren’t noted for wearing tattoos,’ Ophelia replied, ‘and certainly not ones written in Old High Fae.’

Michael ran back from the leader’s corpse, shifting to human as he got close. ‘The same thing is on the other body. Some sort of tribal marking?’

‘Not tribal,’ Lily said. ‘It’s too literate for that. You know, it’s kind of like my tattoo. Maybe a personal rune, or at least an allegiance mark. They were working for someone.’

‘You did say someone would try to kill us before we got to the palace,’ Ophelia pointed out.

‘We set guards tonight when we sleep,’ Michael said. ‘I know the soldiers will be doing it, but I don’t trust them.’

Ophelia nodded. ‘You know, for a werewolf who isn’t into his third decade, you’re surprisingly wise.’

~~~

By the time the rest of the travellers had gorged themselves on over-expensive inn food it was late in the afternoon and it was decided that they would spend the night in Allenville. Rooms at the inn were plentiful, the innkeeper appeared to rely heavily on passing traffic to keep himself solvent, but they were expensive for what you got and declared to be about as secure as an open field by Michael and Ceri. So they elected to sleep in an open field. Ophelia was not particularly happy.

‘I did mention I liked mattresses, right?’ the Sidhe grumbled.

‘The fresh air will be good for you,’ Ceri told her, ‘and we’ll be able to see anyone coming for us before they get close. We aren’t even asking you to stand a watch.’

Ophelia’s eyes narrowed slightly. ‘You just told me to man up and stop bitching, didn’t you?’

‘Pretty much.’

‘Fair enough.’ Ophelia grinned and set about trying to find a comfortable way to lie down on the bedroll she had been given.

‘All right,’ Ceri said, shaking her head, ‘I’ll watch through to midnight, Lil does midnight to four, Michael, if you take four until dawn…’

‘And what about us?’ Twill asked.

Ceri looked at the two fairies. Twill was looking far too calm. There would be sarcasm if Ceri had not considered them for watch duty. Which she had not, but there was no way she was letting Twill know that. ‘Could you do the overlaps? Say ten until two and then two until six? Hmm… and get me out of bed at six. Dawn is a good time to mount an attack.’

Twill nodded. ‘Ishifa can take the first watch. Please wake her if she’s asleep. Is that good for you, Ishifa?’

The younger fairy seemed very pleased to be doing the job, whatever the time. ‘Of course, Mistress. I won’t let you down.’

‘I’m quite sure you won’t. Now, let’s see if we can get some sleep.’

Ceri settled down at the edge of the little group of bedrolls and drew in her power, focussing it on the area around them, and then letting it go. She smiled; anything getting within about fifteen yards of them would alert her, even if it was invisible or coming up behind her. With her staff resting in her lap, its enamel markings still glowing from the thaumic residue it was holding, she settled down to watch for trouble.

It was a fairly quiet night. There were sounds coming from the village; likely from the inn where the once-wedding party seemed to be indulging themselves. Those were muted by the distance they had put between themselves and the buildings. Apparently no one had considered that they might just run for it with no one watching. In truth, Ceri had not really considered it either. Someone had murdered a fairy, and it seemed like it had been done for a reason. Between her natural hatred of a mystery and her sense of justice, Ceri wanted to get to the bottom of it, and she was sure the answer was not Ophelia.

A sound behind her made her turn to look over her shoulder, but all she saw was the Sidhe padding across the grass on bare feet to sit down beside her. ‘Can’t sleep?’

‘I’m used to going to bed later.’

‘You’re probably used to waking up later too, and the local birds well probably wake you at dawn.’

‘And I’m still nervous. And when I sleep I have bad dreams.’

‘What kind of dreams?’

‘Oh nothing prophetic or useful. If we can’t prove my innocence they have some imaginative methods of execution. I’d be tortured to death one way or another unless throwing myself on the mercy of the Court works. Then they’d just behead me.’

‘I’m not a great fan of torture.’

‘No, I’d imagine not. This wouldn’t be torture for information though. The aim is to cause as much pain and humiliation as possible before killing me. I’d likely be given to Oberon’s company of mountain trolls. It’s tidy. They usually eat what’s left after they’ve finished.’ Both of them shuddered.

‘Well, if whoever it is keeps trying to kill us, we should have enough evidence to suggest that someone else did it.’

‘Yes, but we have to prove I didn’t.’

‘Guilty until proven innocent?’

‘Basically, yes. If they think I did it, but can’t be sure, they’ll torture me to get a confession. It wouldn’t be fair to put innocent people on trial like that, so you’re only brought to trial if you’re guilty.’

‘There’s a really twisted, nasty sort of logic to that.’

‘That’s why it’s kept going for centuries. And no one gets to say it’s wrong. Dissension tends to be punishable by death or exile.’ She went silent for several seconds. ‘If they torture me, they will break me and I’ll condemn all of us.’

‘We’re not going to let that happen, Ophelia. Unless it turns out you’re playing us, and then the last thing you’ll need to worry about is what Oberon is going to do to you.’ She gave the Sidhe a grin to show she was kidding.

‘Balor’s Baleful Eye, girl! I’m not stupid enough to try to trick you. Not on this anyway. No one else would try to help me.’

February 3rd

There was a shadow in the darkness. Ceri could not quite make it out, but it seemed to be female. There was enough definition to make out breasts, hips, long legs, maybe long hair. There was also a voice which seemed to echo, and that was female.

‘War is coming, Ceridwyn.’

‘Another one?’ Seriously, had there not been enough of that?

‘We can help… or hinder. That is for you to decide, when the time comes.’

‘Who are you?’

‘Cíocal’s people return, Ceridwyn.’ A sense of alarm accompanied the statement and Ceri turned…

…twisting in her blankets to see Michael, all fang and claw, struggling with a tall, humanoid figure dressed all in black. Twill was buzzing around the figure’s head, distracting him, but there was already blood on Michael’s grey coat and the long, curved knife the assassin was holding.

Ceri’s will clenched, the expenditure of energy so small she barely noticed it, and Michael’s attacker let out a sharp cry as his hand spasmed and the blade fell to the ground. Michael’s arm swung out, and then in and across. The assassin tried to block the blow, but Michael’s sheer power made it impossible and his claws ripped through the man’s stomach leaving four bloody gouges and a lot of ripped cloth. Making a sickening gurgling noise, the black-clad man folded over Michael’s arm and sank to the ground.

The werewolf turned him over, and they could see the shallow movement of his chest, and the blood spreading thickly in the heavy, black cloth. Ceri got to her feet. ‘Michael, are you all right?’

He looked at the cut on his chest and gave a shrug. Heal fast, he growled.

‘The blade could be poisoned,’ Twill commented urgently.

Not. No smell.

Ceri nodded. ‘Looks like we have someone to question, when he wakes up.’ She picked up the dagger he had used, one of several he had, though the others were still sheathed. It was plain, with a hilt of black wood. Nothing much to work with there. She turned to find that Michael had pulled away the man’s scarves to reveal his face. He looked like a Sidhe. The werewolf gave a grunt and pulled a silver chain from under the man’s tunic. Bending down, Ceri looked at the emblem embossed into the silver. ‘The discord ideogram again. I believe we have a pattern.’

~~~

They had tied the assassin up and sealed his wounds, but when the sun was finally lighting the little camp and they went to check on him, they found a corpse.

‘Poison,’ Ophelia said, looking at the twisted expression on the man’s face. ‘There’s a type of fish that lives in the lakes in the South Lands. You can extract a venom from its liver that can be taken orally. It’s not immediately lethal, but there’s no non-magical cure and it usually kills its victims.’

‘He committed suicide rather than be questioned?’ Michael asked, sounding disbelieving. ‘That’s a cowardly way out.’

Ceri shrugged. ‘I’ve had a lot of experience with torture, if he thinks we would do half the things to him that I’ve had done to me…’

‘If you weren’t willing to,’ Ophelia said, ‘then the Royal Inquisitor certainly would have.’

Michael gave a sniff. He had seen the state Ceri had been in when they had rescued her from the Witch Hunter who had been her last torturer. She had been a mess. Then again… ‘Ceri was burned with cigarettes, starved, electrocuted, and he tried to yank her arms out of her shoulder joints, and she didn’t break.’

Ceri kept her eyes on the body, starting to check for anything hidden among his clothes. ‘No, I broke. I just hadn’t realised it when you broke in and stopped him.’ She gave up searching and reached up to yank the chain from around the corpse’s neck. ‘Twill, Ishifa, could you carry the body back. We’ll strap it to the roof of the coach and take it to the palace with us.’

~~~

The next stop was a small, walled town on the edge of what looked like a very large, dense forest. It took the train all day to get there and the sky was dark by the time they were pulling through the northern gate. They had lost several of the carriages along the way; there were only the Wintergreens and the Unseelie families left.

The small stream of Wintergreens and Darksuns coming from the same coach looked toward Ophelia as they headed for the inn they had stopped at. There was a lot of anger there, and Ceri’s pendant highlighted all of it as they passed. It also picked out Briarin, who was not looking at Ophelia. His eyes followed Twill, but his expression was just as black.

‘Briarin really doesn’t like you,’ Ceri said to Twill.

‘I did basically say I’d rather die than marry him, dear. That kind of thing can result in bad feelings.’

‘True. If we’re sleeping under the same roof as that lot, though, we’re keeping a watch again.’

‘I doubt we’ll be able to spend a night here without mounting a watch,’ Michael commented as he started for the door. ‘And by “here” I mean this whole world.’

‘You’ve a point,’ Ceri said, following him. ‘Do we have money to pay for a room?’

‘I’ve got it,’ Ophelia said. ‘Considering I kind of got you into this, I can at least pay for you to be here.’

‘We volunteered,’ Lily replied. ‘We’re stupid like that.’

They trooped in and waited for the others to get rooms from the Sidhe innkeeper. Ceri noticed the muttered conversations the man had with the Darksuns and was half expecting what he said when Ophelia finally approached him.

‘We’re, uh, full. That was my last room.’

‘Sure it was,’ Ophelia replied, keeping her voice level. ‘Did the Darksuns pay you to say that, or did they just tell you what they think I did?’

‘We’re full.’

‘My money is as good…’

‘I’m sorry, but there are simply no more rooms.’

Ceri stepped forward and the innkeeper turned his head to look at her. He took a step back and Ceri knew her eyes were doing whatever weird thing they had started doing. Her voice, when she spoke, was low. ‘You’ll give us a room, away from the others, with a bathroom, and you’ll smile while you’re doing it. Or…’ The sphere on the head of her staff began to glow.

The innkeeper swallowed convulsively. ‘Room sixteen. Upstairs. It’s at the other end of the building from their rooms.’

Ceri smiled. ‘There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?’ Turning on her heel, she headed for the stairs at the back of the taproom.

Ophelia hurried after her. ‘If we get out of this alive, would you consider a job with the Silvershields? We could really use you in some negotiations.’

Ceri laughed. ‘I have enough jobs as it is.’

The room was not especially large, but it had a decent sized bed and enough room on the floor for a bedroll to be laid out for one of them. There was a small bathroom off it, which had a mirror on the wall. Ceri looked herself in the polished metal surface; her eyes looked just as they usually did, a bright blue, certainly, but nothing particularly special. Lily had said it happened when she was angry and the anger had gone. She went to the bath and turned on the water.

‘We’ll have to take turns at this one. Sorry, Lil.’

The half-succubus grinned at her. ‘I’m sure I’ll cope with that, but I need to feed tonight. I’m getting really hungry.’ Lily’s appetite for sex had been driven to extreme levels by Barnes’ manipulations and there had been no time to try to reduce that after leaving the demons’ world. If left unfed for too long she could be dangerous. Ceri was a little surprised she had managed for as long as she had without jumping someone.

‘I’d better take care of that then,’ Ceri said. ‘When everyone’s cleaned up we’ll commandeer the bathroom.’

Twill flitted over to hover in front of Lily. ‘You’ve got that bad, dear? You used to be able to go for weeks without.’

Lily’s eyes dipped down, avoiding Twill. ‘My succubus side is very strong at the moment. Ceri thinks we might be able to put it back in its place, but Barnes made my appetite almost unbearable. It’s having my mistress around that keeps it in check. I can’t hurt her, but if I don’t feed soon I’m going to crack and kill someone.’

Floating forward, Twill placed a hand on Lily’s cheek. ‘You poor child. You were doing so well.’

‘She is doing well,’ Ceri commented. ‘You’ve lasted a couple of days without and you’re not folding yet. You know you need it and you’re asking for help. I think you’re more in control than you think you are.’

Lily gave a little, timid giggle. ‘When have I not been?’

‘True. Have more faith in yourself. Now, what’s that forest to the south?’

‘Mor Thooade Foraoois,’ Ophelia said. ‘The Great North Forest. Unimaginatively named, but appropriate. It’s usually pretty safe in there, unlike the southern one. We’ll get through it by midday and then it’s another… two hours to the Summer Palace.’

‘And then the fun really starts.’

The Sidhe grinned, though Ceri saw fear in her eyes. ‘You could put it that way.’

Great North Forest, February 4th

The night had gone quietly, despite their worries, and the train of carriages had left an hour after sunrise to head into the embrace of the forest. The road they were on was well travelled and fairly wide, with plenty of space between the trees on either side. It seemed unlikely that there would be any trouble, but they all kept a careful watch on the treeline anyway.

‘Last time we were in a forest this dense,’ Lily commented mid-morning, ‘we had to take down a fae queen in a fairy tale castle.’

Ceri chuckled. ‘You had to take her down. I was asleep. And then you let “Lady Ayasha” take all the glory.’

Ophelia blinked. ‘You were the ones who killed Oona?’

‘I knew it was them as soon as I heard the story,’ Twill stated.

‘We heard the news that Finvarra had turned up at court,’ Ophelia told them. ‘He had renounced any claim on the throne because he had no queen to rule with, but he was apparently sane and healthy. Last anyone heard of him he had been reduced to some sort of deranged wild-man. He’d always had a reputation for chasing girls, especially human ones, but now he was just running around raping and murdering any human girl he could get his hands on.’

‘Oona told me she’d cursed him,’ Lily said. ‘The Seelie Court had exiled her for doing it. She basically cracked because he was a philandering bastard and got herself sent to the Demon Realm for it.’

‘And there she managed to build herself a little kingdom in the middle of a forest,’ Ceri went on. ‘It was all wrapped in enchantment, sealed away behind some sort of barrier to create her own little world.’

‘Big, fairy tale castle,’ Lily said. ‘The light over there is kind of reddish, but inside her realm it was all bright, just like here. Outside that, however, the whole forest had become dark and scary. Lots of enchantment, lots of very nasty monsters. They called it the Darkest Forest. They still do, but now it’s more of an ironic thing. When Oona died, the whole thing collapsed and the forest returned to normal. It’s actually quite nice now.’

‘And you killed her?’ Ophelia asked, looking at Lily.

‘She’d fed me some wine with a magic poison in it,’ Ceri said. ‘I was doing a Snow White impression.’

Lily nodded. ‘She had me chained to the wall in her bedroom to try out. I think the idea was to induct me into her staff if she liked me. Kind of stupid. I don’t think she realised how powerful a succubus is when feeding. I’d have killed a mortal just from feeding on her the way I did, but she survived. Then I smashed this big mirror she had over her bed. She said it fed on souls. When it went, so did she, and her world.’

‘It didn’t wake me up though,’ Ceri said, a slight smirk developing on her lips.

‘Ah, no. She said she’d got the poison from a relative who used to use it on apples, so I figured…’

‘You woke her with a kiss!’ Ishifa squeaked; she had heard the story before, but seemed just as enthusiastic as the first time. Lily giggled and nodded. ‘Oh that is so romantic!’

‘I knew you were going to say that. Anyway, we bolted. The place was literally cracking up around us. When we finally made it out of the forest the local villagers had come out to see why the forest had changed and it was a lot better to just say that Lady Ayasha had done yet another amazing thing.’

‘Lady Ayasha?’ Ophelia asked, frowning.

‘It’s Devotik,’ Lily told her. ‘Roughly translates as “blue eyes.” The demons in Shilfaris started calling Ceri “Ayasha” and it stuck. And now “Lady Ayasha” is the Overlord of All Demons, and she was practically legendary before then.’

‘Don’t forget her pet succubus, Lilith,’ Ceri said, smirking. She leaned toward Ophelia almost conspiratorially. ‘Lilith is the cleverest, most devious, most powerful succubus in the realm who rejected the advances of great Lords until she found her perfect Mistress.’ Lily was physically incapable of blushing, but she managed to look like she was very effectively.

~~~

‘We’re getting close,’ Ophelia commented. They had just passed a stone-built tower at the side of the road and Ceri guessed that that was the reason she knew. ‘They have those watchtowers spaced about a mile apart in a circle around the palace. This side of the mountains anyway. Maybe ten minutes to the gates.’

Ceri shifted over in her seat and peered forward out of the window. There was no sign of any large buildings yet, but she could see a village about half a mile away. Small, stone buildings with whitewash on the walls were roofed with thatch. It looked like something you’d see in an idyllic postcard picture from Devon.

‘There are two of those villages around the palace,’ Twill told her as she alighted on the window ledge. ‘The workers from the local farms and the shops within the walls, and a lot of the servants from the palace live in them. Houses within the walls are expensive. Simple fae can’t afford them.’

‘Huh,’ Ceri grunted. ‘They have the same problem in some places in England. Shop workers can’t afford to live in the place they’re working. If it wasn’t for public transport, Winchester wouldn’t function. Kind of stupid, if you think about it.’

‘Here they have to walk in,’ Twill replied.

Then the walls of the small city which was the Summer Palace started to come into view. At first Ceri thought they were whitewashed too, but she soon realised that they were made of a gleaming, white rock. Maybe fifty feet in height and with even taller towers spaced every few hundred yards. They were round towers rather than the more triangular ones humans had developed after centuries of castle building. It suggested that the place had never come under significant attack, or that they simply refused to change the design.

‘How long has this place existed?’ she asked.

Twill shrugged and Ophelia said, ‘Thousands of years. It was originally built by Nemed, then expanded a couple of times. It’s looked pretty much the same for the last two thousand years.’

‘How many times have you been here, Twill?’ Ceri asked her.

‘Two or three. Mostly when I was a child. I was presented to court when I came of age and it wasn’t very long after that that I ran away.’

There was a gatehouse ahead of them which made the huge Low Gate building in Shilfaris look tiny. It was a small castle in itself with two massive towers on either side and a blocky building between them which had to be two hundred feet high. The gates themselves were broad and easily a hundred feet high. Ceri was no military strategist, but the whole thing looked poorly designed from a defensive point of view. It had been built to be impressive, not to stop an attacking army.

The train did not stop at the gate, continuing on up a broad, cobbled roadway which climbed slightly upward through the city. Everything seemed to be built of stone. The outer ring appeared to be shops and workshops of one form or another, fairly closely packed and built of darker stone than the walls. As they got closer to the centre, the buildings became larger, some of them set within walled gardens. These were houses, probably belonging to wealthy fae families.

‘No internal walls,’ Ceri said. ‘Does this roadway go straight up to the palace?’

‘Yes,’ Ophelia replied.

Ceri thought back again to the only other “medieval” city she knew, Shilfaris in the demons’ world. That had had a thick outer wall, but it had also had multiple internal walls, all the internal parts connected with strong gates. Here if someone broke through the main gate you had a clear run up to the palace itself and free run of the city. ‘You haven’t had a lot of wars here, have you?’

‘Not here, no. Most of the really big battles in our history have taken place in the South Lands or the mountains. Or on Earth. I mean, the last major war the fae were involved in was when the Unseelie marched into Ireland and took over after the Shattering.’

The palace compound itself came into view and Ceri raised an eyebrow. It had a wall around it, but that was not even castellated. The building within was huge and impressive, lots of white stone. It was, indeed, a “summer palace,” all bright and shining in the sunlight of the afternoon. There were high towers and conical roofs, windows with balconies outside them. No one had ever considered the idea that this place would need to be defended.

The carriages pulled into a courtyard in front of the palace and a squad of soldiers immediately moved in to surround the one holding the accused and her Advocates. Well, at least they were efficient at something. One of them, a woman wearing silver spaulders, stepped forward and opened the door on Ceri’s side. She was tall, attractive like most Sidhe, with long, red hair bound into a pair of ponytails, and vibrant green eyes. ‘I am Captain Lidial of the House of Alberich. I’ve been sent to take Ophelia Silvershield into custody and act as your liaison for the trial.’ Her statement was made in a calm voice, without any rancour in it; she was an official doing a job.

Ceri was about to speak, but Ophelia put a hand on her arm as she moved past and out onto the cobbles of the courtyard. Lidial stepped back slightly. ‘I am Ophelia of the House Silvershield. These are my Advocates. I submit myself to the justice of the Seelie Court freely.’

Lidial nodded. ‘Please come with me. Quarters have been provided for you.’

The guard squad formed up around them as they climbed down from the carriage. Ceri glanced up at the roof where the corpse-shaped bundle was still tied. ‘Captain Lidial. That body on the roof is required for our defence. Could you have it stored somewhere safe?’

Lidial looked at her and then up at the body. ‘Boden, Urien, have that secured in one of the cells. Bring the key to me once it’s locked up.’

Ceri bowed her head. ‘Thank you, Captain.’

The Sidhe nodded back and led the way toward a side door, away from the huge main doors of the palace. ‘You’ll come before the King and Queen tomorrow morning,’ she explained as they walked, surrounded by guards. ‘I can provide any information you need on the process tonight. Your quarters will be guarded, but only the accused is actually confined. The rest of you can move about if you wish. Since most of you don’t know the palace, however, I’d suggest staying put.’ She led them down a corridor once inside and then through a door and up a spiral staircase. ‘Tomorrow’s audience is just to establish whether you have justification to be allowed further time to investigate.’

‘What’s the court opinion on my chances?’ Ophelia asked.

Lidial coughed. ‘Officially there is no opinion.’

‘I know that.’

‘Chatter among the courtiers is that your chances are slim, but the King is inclined to be lenient.’ She glanced around at Ceri. ‘Your Advocates have some influence in important places, according to the rumours.’

‘Oh,’ Ophelia responded, but any further conversation was forestalled by their arrival at a door which Lidial opened.

They had gone up about eight floors and had to be in one of the towers. It was a clever move; they were not in a dungeon, but they were somewhere it would be very hard to get out of without being noticed. What was surprising was the room. Broad and luxurious, if Ophelia was imprisoned, then she was imprisoned in style. The floor was thickly carpeted and there were several chairs and tables which suggested that this was just the reception room of a suite. The chairs were arranged around a large fireplace which was lit, and there was a big window on one side of the room with a balcony outside it.

‘There’s one bedroom on this floor,’ Lidial said, confirming the suite theory, ‘and two more and a bathroom above. That door over there leads to an internal staircase. There will be three guards outside the door at all times. One of them can be sent for me if you need anything. In case you’re wondering, there are no other guests in this tower.’

‘Thank you, Captain,’ Ceri said, walking into the room and checking behind the doors. ‘Could we get some food up here?’

‘Of course.’ The captain turned on her booted heel and headed out of the room.

The bedroom on this floor was moderately large and just as opulent with a big, four-posted bed. Ceri scanned the room, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, and then headed for the door with the stairs behind it. The staircase led up to a small landing with three doors off it. The bedrooms there were a little smaller to accommodate a big bathroom. The bath was at least as large as the one they had had at the Wintergreen castle. Ceri grinned. She was definitely going to drag Michael and Lily up here later. She headed back down to find everyone except Ophelia sitting down and relaxing after the journey. Lily had even taken her dress off and patted the loveseat beside her when Ceri appeared. Ophelia was pacing.

‘Are you going to be doing that all night?’ Ceri asked as she walked past the Sidhe to sit beside Lily.

‘Possibly.’ She did another circle before adding, ‘Basically, they want to hang me out to dry, but they might let me live because you’re my Advocate. That’s not exactly good news.’

‘They’re basing that on the report they got with the messenger the Wintergreens sent ahead of us,’ Ceri pointed out.

‘And my parents will not have cast you in an objective light,’ Twill added.

‘And,’ Ceri went on, ‘since then we’ve been attacked by various fae who appear to belong to the same group.’

Ophelia grunted. ‘You can be objective about this if you want. I’m going to quietly freak out.’

There was a knock on the door, then it opened and three servants came in carrying trays of food and wine. They said nothing, just walked in and placed the trays down on a table set within the ring of chairs. Ceri watched them working, smiling at any who looked her way, but what she was noticing while they did it was that one of them seemed to be looking around a lot. It was circumstantial, the girl could simply have been curious, but a little paranoia was healthy when people were out to get you.

‘Ishifa, would you check the food please?’ Ceri asked once the door was closed behind the servants. The fairy nodded and flitted up from the arm of Michael’s chair to hover over the table.

‘You think someone could try to hit us here?’ Ophelia asked, stopped her pacing.

‘I think being careful would be wise.’

‘Right, yes.’ And the Sidhe started off again, wearing a hole in the carpet.

‘What’s the procedure for tomorrow?’ Ceri asked, hoping to distract Ophelia.

‘Uh… Oberon and Titania will preside. The Wintergreens and Darksuns will present their case. It’s a Darksun who was killed, but it was Wintergreen land it was done on so they both have an interest. Then we get to speak. If there are Advocates it’s usually down to one of them to make the case for time to investigate.’

Everyone looked at Ceri, except Ophelia who was still busy pacing. ‘I guess I’m handling that then,’ Ceri said, grimacing.

‘Good,’ Ophelia replied without looking around. ‘I think if anyone’s going to be able to persuade them, you are. Wear your crown, and that dress Gloriandel got you for the wedding. If they’ll let you take that staff, that’d be good too.’

‘You want me to turn up in front of the Seelie King and Queen dressed as the Wicked Witch of the West’s sexy sister?’

‘I want you to go in front of them looking like the Overlord of All Demons.’

Ishifa nodded and floated back to her seat followed by a bowl of crunchy-looking insects. Assuming that meant the food was fine, Ceri grabbed an apple out of the bowl and bit into it. Food in Otherworld had an annoying habit of tasting a little better than anywhere else. And the annoying thing about Ophelia’s plan was that it made sense. Not exactly a show of force, but an indication that someone important thought the Sidhe was innocent. Even if Ceri did not think of herself that way, the Seelies apparently did.

‘All right. Lil, did you bring your collar and cuffs?’

Lily grinned. ‘You want to do the whole “Lady Ayasha” thing?’

‘Might as well put on a show.’

‘The “whole Lady Ayasha thing”?’ Ophelia asked, stopping again.

‘Ayasha travels with her slave, Lilith,’ Ceri explained, settling back on her seat. ‘It was part of our disguise and now, I suppose, it’s part of the legend. Slaves generally travel naked aside from cuffs and a collar, silver ones if the owner can afford them. Lil has a nipple chain to go with the facial one.’

‘Right.’ Ophelia started walking again. ‘That’ll make the courtiers sit up and take notice. You don’t mind doing that, Lily? I wouldn’t want you feeling degraded or anything.’

‘She thinks it’s great,’ Ceri replied, making sure everyone knew that she was less inclined to like it.

Everyone had already worked out Lily’s opinion, however. The half-succubus was beaming happily as she took her silver collar out of her bag and began digging around for her cuffs.

‘Lil,’ Ceri said, ‘you don’t need to wear them until tomorrow.’

‘Yes, but I haven’t worn them for a week. I’m just going to make sure they work.’

~~~

Ophelia was pacing again when Ceri walked back into the room after her bath. Lily followed behind, her long hair wrapped in a towel. The Sidhe had stopped just before they went up, probably because her legs were tired, and had sat down to pick at some food, still looking anxious. At least she had been sitting down.

She turned on her heel and started back toward them as Michael came through the door. Like the others, he had not bothered dressing since he was quite at home with his body, even if he preferred being furry. Ceri saw Ophelia’s eyes moving, flicking over the werewolf’s body. Her anxious expression made the signs of interest harder to spot, but they were there. Ceri was a little surprised to note that she could actually spot the fae’s pupils dilating.

‘You are going to wear a track in this really lovely carpet,’ Ceri commented as she dropped into the loveseat. Lily sat down beside her and, grinning, Ceri turned so that she could rest her legs in Lily’s lap.

‘They can afford new carpet,’ Ophelia replied.

‘You’re making me nervous.’

‘You walked across half the Demon Realm with a naked succubus and defeated a seriously powerful demon lord. You’ll be fine.’

Ceri sighed. ‘You really need to get some sleep tonight or you’ll be useless tomorrow.’

‘I’ll sleep when we get through tomorrow’s trial.’

‘When was the last time you got laid?’

That stopped her. Ophelia turned to look at Ceri, surprise on her face. ‘Three weeks… What the fuck does that have to do with anything?!’

Ceri ignored her and looked instead at Michael. ‘Would you mind taking her in the other room and screwing her?’

The werewolf looked over at Ophelia, tilted his head thoughtfully for a second, and then said, ‘No, I wouldn’t mind at all,’ before climbing to his feet and walking purposefully toward her.

Ophelia held up her hands. ‘Michael? It’s a nice thought, but I really don’t need…!’ Her sentence was stopped as he picked her up, almost in passing, and hoisted her over his shoulder. ‘Hey! Really, no, I mean, I’m too wound up to enjoy it. Ceri! Tell him to put me down!’ Michael pushed the bedroom door open with his free arm, apparently unmoved by Ophelia’s struggles. Actually, she was not struggling that much. Anyway, Ceri was too busy giggling. The door swung shut behind them.

‘Okay,’ Ceri said, getting control of her breathing. ‘Ishifa, did you manage to contact the Silvershields.’ There was a thump, as of someone being dropped onto a bed, from the other room, followed by a squeal of mild outrage.

The fairy pulled her slightly wide-eyed gaze away from the door. ‘Yes. I told Lorien about the attacks and the discord symbol. He hadn’t heard anything about it, but he’ll ask. They haven’t been able to get anything you could call definitive, but he did find out that a group of Wildhorns crossed into the North Lands about a week before the wedding and they seemed to be heading toward the Wintergreen Estates.’

‘Morrigan’s Paps you’re big!’ Ceri glanced at the door to the bedroom and giggled again.

‘Um… okay, so that means we have evidence that the Wildhorns could have done it. If Lorian was able to find that information, I’d imagine the court knows. Right?’

‘Probably,’ Twill agreed. ‘I’d have put them low on the list for something like this though. They generally prefer the direct attack. I agree that Joshia’s death was quite direct, but framing Ophelia…’

She paused as the Sidhe woman could be heard yelling, ‘Oh fuck yes!’ through the door.

‘…framing Ophelia seems far too complex a plan for them.’

‘They would know the spells to hide their tracks,’ Ishifa said, ‘but the spell to blank the knife’s history… They wouldn’t have much need for that kind of magic.’

Ceri frowned, pursing her lips. The sounds in the bedroom had become the rhythmic squeaking of bedsprings and the sound of a woman grunting loudly in time to them. ‘They believe in living in the wilds, behaving like fae used to before all this civilisation, right?’

‘Basically, yes,’ Twill agreed.

‘And we were attacked by mountain trolls, who should be up in the region the Wildhorns live in.’

‘Yes, but they would tend to avoid interaction. Mountain trolls don’t get on well with anyone.’

‘Like Sidhe assassins who happen to be wearing jewellery that matches the tattoos the trolls had?’

‘Discord,’ Twill said, her voice musing.

‘The Wildhorns could have been working with someone else,’ Lily put in. ‘Perhaps the same group as the assassin and the trolls. A new political grouping? I mean, Seelie and Unseelie are basically political viewpoints, right? Politics evolves, new parties develop.’

‘Oh… oh… oh…’

‘Sounds like she’s nearly there,’ Ceri commented. ‘I thought Seelie and Unseelie were more like… well, sub-species… Though that doesn’t make much sense when I think about it.’

‘Oh… Fuck yes!’ It was probably a good thing they were in a tower. Ophelia would definitely have upset the neighbours.

‘And there she goes.’

Twill chuckled. ‘Lily’s right. Seelie and Unseelie are… viewpoints. Certain personalities gravitate toward one or the other, but essentially they are political groupings. The Seelie derived from the Tuatha Dé. The Unseelie have been around longer. They had a more militant faction at one time, the Formori, but they died out centuries ago, much as the Tuatha Dé did.’

‘Huh, I’m not too hot on fae history. Most of what I know comes from Irish myth.’

‘I picked up a little hanging around the Dubh Linn,’ Lily said. The bedroom door opened and Michael came out, smirking slightly. Lily patted Ceri’s thigh. ‘My turn.’

Ceri moved her legs, pouting. ‘You’ll be okay?’

Lily rose to her feet, all smooth grace, and pulled her towel off, handing it to Michael to clean up with. ‘I’m well fed, I’ll be fine. And she’ll sleep like a baby.’

Michael took Lily’s place, laying the towel in his lap, and Ceri lifted her legs back up. ‘How was she?’

The werewolf smiled. ‘A gentleman doesn’t tell.’

The Summer Palace, February 5th

‘All stand for King Oberon and Queen Titania.’ None of Ophelia’s party had to stand, they were already up. The call did cut down on the chatter from the rest of the room, which had been amusing Ceri no end. Most of it seemed to be mildly outraged that their human visitor had led Lily into the audience chamber on a chain. Lily was doing her meek, subservient, slave-girl act, which was not exactly an act, but she was putting it on more than usual. The courtiers were, as best Ceri could tell, a little shocked.

Two figures appeared from behind the twin thrones in the audience chamber as the assembled fae climbed to their feet. The room was roughly egg shaped with chairs for the audience in the broader section under a huge, domed roof, and the thrones set in the narrower area. The acoustics were probably helpful, and the shape tended to draw attention to the royal couple, though Ceri could not really see why they needed the assistance. These were true High Fae, transcendently beautiful. Your eyes were drawn toward them as soon as they entered the room and you just did not want to look away.

Both were tall, attractive, physically ideal examples of a Sidhe. Beyond that, however, they were polar opposites. Oberon was dark; dark eyes, inky black, shoulder length, wild hair, slightly dusky skin. He was dressed in a black tunic and tight, black britches, and there was a fairly simple circlet of fairy silver around his head. He would have made an amazing brooding hero in a movie or maybe a comic book. Titania was blonde and pale-skinned. Her hair fell past her shoulders in glowing waves, almost seeming to give off light and wreath her head in an aura. Her dress seemed to be made from flowers with green fronds and pink flowers forming the bodice, and long, green petals forming the ankle-length skirt which shifted around her legs as she walked giving tantalising glimpses of the skin beneath.

It was glamour. They were projecting an aura of beauty and Ceri knew it. It was almost like the Black Lady who frequented the Dubh Linn in London. You somehow knew she was a beautiful woman, but when you tried to put your finger on what she looked like the details slipped away like water. Oberon and Titania were incredible, beautiful creatures, but if you had tried to describe exactly what made them so gorgeous you would find you could not do it. Ceri could feel the desire coming from Lily over the empathic link they shared, and that just made her own need for these people worse. She needed her head on straight and all she could think about right now was begging to be Oberon’s plaything. Her fist clenched around her staff. It was the silver chain around her ankle that was doing it; fae enchantment which increased her libido.

She felt Lily step a little closer behind her. ‘God they’re beautiful,’ the half-succubus whispered. ‘You need to… to fight fire with fire.’

Fire with fire? Fire with dragon fire! Ceri closed her eyes. Not seeing the two Sidhe helped, but she still knew they were there. Pushing down on the urge to prostrate herself before the King, she focussed on herself, her own core, the bridge between the base of her Chakral and Tantric medians which represented the metaphysical connection to her physical body. The Physical Bridge was like a muscle, with strands of white energy twining with bands of silver. The silver was her dragon side, the part which made her a sorceress and represented her draconic heritage.

‘Narada Darksun will put forward the case against Ophelia Silvershield.’ The major-domo’s voice rang out again. No preamble, no ceremony; Ceri was a little surprised, but she was busy trying to focus.

‘Your Royal Highnesses.’ The voice was presumably Narada’s, though Ceri did not remember hearing him speak the entire time she had been near him. ‘My son, Joshia, was to be wed to Gloriandel Wintergreen on the afternoon of Imbolc. He was found that morning having been stabbed with a black-hilted dagger. Three other fae who were with him were also killed. The dagger was identified as belonging to Ophelia of the House Silvershield and she was arrested and brought before you for judgement.’

There was a slight pause and then, ‘That is the entirety of your case?’ Oberon’s voice was deep, very masculine. Ceri felt her body reacting to it in a very physical way; she gathered her power and fed herself with it.

‘Yes, Highness.’ Narada did not sound particularly happy with the reaction.

‘Very well, continue.’

‘The Advocate of Ophelia Silvershield will put forward the counter-case.’ The major-domo intoned.

Ceri opened her eyes; she was ready. She heard the faint gasp from the courtiers as she stepped forward, leading Lily behind her. The desire was still there, but above and beyond it was the power. She had the blood of dragons every bit as royal as these two in her veins and she was not going to give in to basic, human lust. Her skin was iridescent, and she was sure her eyes were glowing blue… and somehow the two figures on the thrones seemed less like the beautiful creatures they had been a few moments earlier.

‘Your Royal Highnesses, I am Ceridwyn Brent, known as Lady Ayasha, Overlord of All Demons, daughter of David and Marion Brent, descendent of Brenin and Brenhines, of the line of Gorefguhadget. I have chosen to represent Ophelia Silvershield in this matter.’ Both of the royal fae bowed their heads at the introduction. Ceri returned the slight bow and Ceri got the impression that they were acknowledging an equal. I wonder if he knows how much I’d like to rip his britches off? Collecting her thoughts, she went on.

‘Together with her other Advocates, I found Joshia’s body. I investigate supernatural crimes on Earth and have some experience in the matter of murder. If Ophelia committed the crime, she shows remarkable lack of sense. The dagger has been wiped of sympathetic and contagion resonances, there were no traces of anyone else being in the area of the crime scene. We found the bodies by scent.’ She spotted Titania’s eyes flicking toward Michael; they knew he was a werewolf. ‘If someone were going to go to all that trouble to hide their presence, why would they use their own dagger?’

She took a breath. ‘Beyond that, we’ve had two attempts on our lives while coming here. I would say that might be expected considering the emotive and politically charged nature of the crime Ophelia is accused of, but these attacks were connected and unusual. A squad of mountain trolls attacked us in an open plain, miles from their home territory. It’s unlikely that they would be concerned with the alliance between the Wintergreens and the Darksuns, and I doubt they got incensed over the death of a sprite. Then there was an assassin who committed suicide to avoid questioning. His body is in a cell here now, but he was wearing a pendant which bore the same sigil as the trolls had tattooed on their bodies. Lilith, please present the pendant to the King, if he will allow it?’

The King nodded, holding out his hand, and Lily stepped forward, almost prowling. Ceri might have managed to submerge her urge to rip Oberon’s clothes off, but Lily was still having trouble. She stepped up the first step of the dais the thrones were set upon, and reached out, dropping the chain into his hand. Ceri gave her chain a little tug and Lily backed up again, not taking her eyes off the beautiful man who was now examining the assassin’s jewellery. His expression darkened and he handed it across to Titania. They knew what it meant.

Oberon turned back to look at Ceri. ‘You believe that Ophelia Silvershield did not kill Joshia Darksun?’

‘I do.’

‘You have until the full moon rises in ten days to prove her innocence.’ There was a rumble from the area of the Wintergreens and Darksuns which went silent as the King’s gaze moved toward them. ‘We have spoken in this matter. This court is adjourned.’

It seemed like that was it. The courtiers waited for the king and queen to leave and then began filing out. All except for one of them, anyway. One man moved out of the throng on the other side of the room, trailed by a couple of people who looked like they were bodyguards rather than anything else. The man had the same sort of look as Oberon; the same dark good looks, the same basic facial structure in many ways, the same black hair, and the same sort of presence. Hot, animalistic, sexuality rolled off him in a torrent, though with this one it felt a little more dangerous than it did with Oberon.

The unknown man bowed deeply before Ceri. ‘Lady Brent, I am Finvarra. I owe you my freedom and my sanity. It is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance.’

Ceri returned the bow. ‘It was really Lily who did most of the work on that one. I just got the credit.’

The Sidhe’s eyes flicked to Lily, standing just behind Ceri with her eyes downcast. ‘I’ve heard it said that Lady Ayasha’s pet is among the most powerful of succubi, but still she is your pet.’

Behind her, Ceri could almost feel Lily willing her not to mess with the legend. ‘Thank you, Lord.’

Finvarra flicked the honorific aside dismissively. ‘Tsh! I owe you my life and I’m no one’s lord anymore. I still hold some sway in court, however. If I can help in any way, send me word.’ He bowed again, all fluid grace, animal magnetism, and suppressed power.

Ceri smiled. ‘My thanks to you, Lord Finvarra. We’ll need all the help we can get.’

~~~

‘So… that’s it?’ Lily asked once they were back in their suite.

‘That’s it,’ Ceri replied. ‘And I’m proud of you, by the way.’

‘You are?!’

‘Uh-huh, I know how much you wanted to rip their clothes off and hump them on their thrones.’

Lily giggled. ‘I was still acting a little inappropriately.’

‘Oh, everyone does that,’ Ophelia commented. She was looking a lot calmer after a good night’s exhausted sleep and being given the chance to prove her innocence. She was actually sitting down for one thing. ‘They’re probably the most beautiful fae alive, though a lot of that is glamour. If you meet them privately they seem more normal.’ She grinned. ‘You probably scored points for keeping your voice level when you spoke to him, Ceri. The light show was impressive too.’

‘The light show was there to keep my voice level. Did you see the way they looked at that pendant? They know what it means.’

Twill gave a nod. ‘I think, if we are going to prove Ophelia isn’t the murderer, it’s vital that we find out about that sigil and the people behind it.’

‘Agreed. Ishifa, can you check with Lorian again this evening?’

The fairy nodded. ‘Of course.’

‘Ophelia, any ideas about where we could start looking otherwise?’

The Sidhe grimaced, looking thoughtful, but it was Twill who spoke. ‘There is the mountain troll angle, and the Wildhorns. Both live in the mountains south of here.’

‘Oh great,’ Ophelia said. ‘Troll hunting in the mountains. You know, if I wanted to be used as a sex toy by hulking animals, I could just go and admit my guilt.’

‘Hush you,’ Ceri commanded, grinning. ‘Lily’s hungry after meeting Oberon. If you keep complaining you’ll be the sex toy of a succubus.’

There was a knock on the door and Lidial stepped through, striding over to the semi-circle of chairs and bowing deeply to Ceri. Ceri raised an eyebrow, but bowed her head in return. ‘Lady Brent, King Oberon and Queen Titania request your presence in their private chambers. I was told to tell you that they had important matters of state to discuss with you.’

Ceri blinked, standing up and smoothing the front of her dress into place over her breasts and tugging the waistband down a little. ‘All right. Lily, you’d better stay here. I’ll have enough trouble controlling myself.’

The King and Queen had their private rooms in the southern tower of the palace. Lidial took Ceri down, through a couple of passageways across the building, and then into an antechamber where the major-domo was waiting.

Ceri was beginning to get the feeling that these men were selected for being mildly unpleasant. Oona’s had been a snivelling little man who oozed subservience like an oil. This one was a tall, thin Sidhe with a long nose which he probably used as a guide when looking down at people. Since he was a Sidhe he was not balding, but he somehow managed to give the impression that he was by tying his hair into a very tight ponytail.

‘Thank you, Captain,’ he said as they walked in. ‘That will be all.’ Lidial gave a curt nod and turned to leave; she did not like him either.

‘Thank you, Captain,’ Ceri said, and then turned to the major-domo. He said nothing, just turning and heading for a flight of circular stairs at the back of the room. There appeared to be a couple of floors of meeting rooms, one more formal, the other comfortably appointed, more of a sitting room. The fact that they stopped at neither was interesting; the royals apparently wanted a more intimate meeting. One floor up, and into the tower proper, and they went past another sitting room which looked more private and far more used, but still there was no sign of either of the two royals. Ceri was starting to worry that she would find them in a bedroom, but instead she was led off the stairs on the next floor, which was a library.

Ceri let herself relax when she realised that the two figures sitting in the room were not giving off the aura of sheer attraction they had been in the audience chamber. They were still very attractive people, but not quite the awesome figures they had been. The major-domo turned as soon as she was in the room and walked out, closing the library door behind him as he went. Oberon and Titania looked up at the sound. He was sitting at a desk going over some papers. She was in an easy chair reading a small book which looked more like a novel than a textbook.

Oberon smiled, revealing very white teeth. ‘So you do have normal eyes.’

Ceri smiled back; it was hard not to. ‘I needed a bit of a boost, otherwise I’d have been making a total fool of myself in front of your court.’ She kicked herself. That had probably not been the best thing to admit to him, especially in front of his wife.

Titania, however, appeared entirely un-phased. ‘That’s why we do it. People thinking with their sex organs tend to be less inclined to subterfuge.’ The queen’s smile was just as bright and… were her pupils dilated? ‘You must be quite aware of that.’ The smile twisted into a quizzical frown. ‘You aren’t, do you?’

Flustered, Ceri went for changing the subject. ‘You asked to see me about some matter of state?’

Oberon accepted the shift to business, though his eyes suggested amusement. ‘The sigil on that pendant, what do you know of it?’

‘I can pronounce the word, and I’m told it means “discord.”’

‘You read Old High Fae?’

‘I read Draconic. Not well, but enough. It’s the same script, apparently.’

Oberon raised an eyebrow. ‘Not many people know that Old High Fae uses Draconic ideograms.’

Ceri grinned. ‘I didn’t until I saw that. You know more about this particular one, though. I saw it in your faces when you were looking at the pendant.’

‘It first began to show up about forty years ago,’ Oberon said. ‘It belonged to some form of secret cult among the Unseelie in Ireland. We began to notice it when certain criminals began showing up with pendants like that one, or tattoos. They may have been operating for much longer and that was when we noticed them first. In the last decade they have begun appearing in our world too.’

‘They keep their secrets well,’ Titania went on. ‘We thought that they had spies within the court, but found no evidence. Since the body you brought in with you has mysteriously vanished during the night, we are now sure they have people here.’

Ceri frowned. ‘Do you have any intelligence about them?’

Oberon grunted unhappily. ‘We believe their primary base of operation is in Dublin. Our spies in that area have had a very short lifespan in the last fifteen years and we are seeing greater oppression of the humans in that city. Here we think they’ve established themselves within the Oighear Slaevte Tsale, the mountains south of here between the North and South. There is a strong belief that House Araket are heavily involved with them, as well as the Wildhorns, but if they are they’re hiding it well.’

‘Okay. This sounds like it’s something of a state secret. I’m happy that you’re telling me, because it gives us something to work with, but I’m also doubting that this is entirely freely given.’

‘We made no deal before I told you,’ Oberon replied, grinning broadly.

‘Freely given,’ Titania said, ‘but obviously we want you to use it to discover the sprite’s murderer, and as much as you can about this “Discord” group. Your reputation for getting to the bottom of things precedes you, sorceress.’

Ceri sucked on one of her canines. ‘If this murder was committed by this group, the chances of us discovering the actual killer are slim. As I understand it, I’d need to hand you the actual murderer to get Ophelia off the charge.’

‘Technically correct, yes,’ Oberon replied. ‘Find sufficient proof that Discord has done the deed, or bring us knowledge of their leaders, and we will show as much mercy as the law allows. Have we a deal?’ He leaned forward, offering his hand across the desk.

It was likely the best they could hope for. She reached forward and took Oberon’s hand. ‘We have a deal.’

Interlude

Kennington, London, September 1st, 2007

‘The dishes fairy is now doing the laundry,’ Ceri commented as Lily padded into the kitchen, her bare feet slapping on the slate floor.

‘Laundry now?’ She crossed to the coffee machine on the counter and poured herself a mug. ‘Oh that’s good.’

‘Yeah. I didn’t make that either.’

‘Dishes, laundry, and coffee.’

‘And someone dusted in the study. The second kitchen is cleaner than this one. We definitely have someone here with us.’

‘Fae? A brownie? Aren’t they supposed to sneak around the house doing chores and things?’

‘Maybe.’

The girl was looking far too thoughtful. Gloriandel watched from the corner of the counter and considered, once again, that she should move on. She had stayed far longer than she had meant to, and Ceri was right, she had been doing more and more around the house. Lifting into the air she floated out of the kitchen and headed up to her attic.

And there was another thing, she was thinking of it as her attic now. She had a nice little space there, hidden away behind some old bookshelves which had been stored there to house books which either failed to fit onto the library shelves or were no longer of use. Boxes provided more security, making it harder for a large person to get to the little hidden space, but not hindering a flying fairy. She had a small larder, which had once been a cupboard, in which to store food. An old cot padded with blankets provided her with a very comfortable space to sleep. She had even arranged a couple of carpet fragments she had found up there so she had somewhere to sit. And her space was right over a hot water pipe feeding the bathroom which kept things warm. It was cosy.

That did not mean she should stay, of course. If the situation was insecure she should leave. If they saw her… Except, she thought as she took a millipede from her larder and settled down to crack its shell, she had grown to rather like the odd couple living in the big house with her. She had learned more than a little about them in the time she had been there and they were, in some ways, a little like her. Ceri had lost her parents in a car accident and was close to being a recluse. She went out to university, but came straight home, and it seemed that it was only Lily’s encouragement that kept her from staying at home all the time. Lily had been a teenage runaway; a half-succubus who had fled her home after her demonic powers had caused too much trouble. She was outgoing, outwardly confident, but with an inner core of insecurity and a dread of returning to the prostitution and pornography she had fallen into before. It seemed to be Ceri’s friendship which kept her on the straight and narrow.

And now they had Gloriandel, their invisible housemate, keeping the place tidy. It worked, currently, but it could not last. She tucked into the interior of the bug. Really. It could not last.

September 2nd

Gloriandel floated into the kitchen and the carafe from the coffee machine lifted to go to the sink for water. The filter box removed itself, dumped its used contents into the bin, and then waited for a new filter and coffee to be added. The carafe poured water into the reservoir and then settled itself back onto the hotplate.

And then she noticed the note on the counter beside the sink. While the coffee machine finished assembling itself, she floated over and looked down. Thank you for the coffee, the note said. Beside it on the counter was a thimble with honey in it. She did like honey, and they already knew she was there so taking it would not be a giveaway…

~~~

‘The honey’s gone,’ Lily commented as she poured her morning coffee. Well, her morning coffee was actually afternoon coffee, but still…

‘Uh-huh,’ Ceri said, not looking up from her Wednesday Witch. ‘There’s a reply too.’

Lily blinked and turned to look at the paper. Below the thank you, in very neat handwriting, was written, Thank you for the honey. It’s better thinned with a little alcohol. ‘Cool,’ Lily said, smiling brightly, ‘we’re communicating.’

September 5th

There was another note beside her thimble of honey. They had been thinning it with a little white wine the last couple of days, which was just perfect. She was lucky that fairies tended not to get fat. She checked the note.

We would really like to meet you. Lily only bites if you ask her nicely.

Gloriandel stifled a giggle, and then frowned as she set up the coffee machine. They wanted to meet her. Well, she could stay hidden. She doubted they would look for her, but then again, that seemed a little rude. She could leave. She could also stay…

~~~

‘Any reply?’ Lily asked as she walked in to get coffee.

Ceri looked up briefly. ‘No.’

‘Oh.’ Lily poured a mug of coffee and let some of the dark liquid slither down her throat, closing her eyes and revelling in the sensation of having her neurons kick-started.

‘Oh! Uh… Lil?’

Lily opened her eyes and looked at Ceri, then at where Ceri was looking. Sat in the middle of the table, her legs crossed and a thimble of honey in her hands, was a fairy with nut-brown skin, a cap of purple hair, and a pair of beautiful, feathery, blue-white wings.

‘Hello,’ Gloriandel said. ‘I’m Twill.’

Part Three: Discord

The Ice-capped Mountains, Otherworld, February 6th, 2013

‘Tell me again why we’re marching into the Oighear Slaevte Tsale on foot looking for people who want to kill us?’ Ophelia was not a happy Sidhe. Aside from anything else it was early spring, they were over a thousand feet up, and it was not warm.

‘To save your scrawny butt,’ Lily replied. Lily was not happy either, but mostly because she was tired of Ophelia complaining. Despite the weather, the half-succubus was wearing a leather loincloth and a top which left one shoulder and most of her chest bare. She claimed it was easier for fighting in; Ceri knew she just liked being half-dressed.

‘My butt is not scrawny. I’ve had compliments on my butt. It’s nicely rounded. I have a sweet butt!’

‘She has got a nice backside,’ Michael commented.

‘The point still stands,’ Lily replied.

‘It does,’ Michael agreed.

‘Out of interest,’ Ceri asked. ‘Are you complaining about looking for Discord, or having to walk to do it?’

‘Mostly it’s the walking.’ In return for her grumble she just got a few giggles. ‘It’s not funny. I don’t usually walk further than a mile in any given day.’

‘Well most of us can’t ride,’ Ceri pointed out, ‘so horses weren’t an option, and it’s not like we could bring a carriage further than we did.’ They had done the initial climb to the top of the pass south of the palace in a carriage, but then they had had to cut across country on paths which rapidly shrank to the point that they had to walk single file. ‘We’re also trying to find them before they find us, so a little quiet would not be a bad idea.’

‘Do we even know we’re going the right way?’

‘The best intelligence Oberon and Lorian could provide suggested that going west was the best bet. We’re going west.’

Ophelia sighed, but at least she stopped talking.

~~~

The mountains were quite beautiful really. The highest peaks had snow on them all year round, which gave them their name, and at this time of year there was more of it further down the slopes. The views were quite spectacular; there were some deep valleys hidden amongst the mountains, as well as the mountains themselves which were tall and craggy, and made of a slightly blue rock which shone in the sunlight. They reminded both Ceri and Michael of the Welsh mountains. Perhaps a little higher in places, but somehow similar. High up in the sky, the black shapes of crows or ravens circled on the air currents.

Michael in particular was enjoying the walk. He had a fairy on each shoulder, which he did not seem to be minding at all. He had changed over the time Ceri had known him. When they had first met he had been very insecure in his human form and not as confident in either form. Two naked women using him as a perch, even if they were smaller than his hands, would have had him blushing back then. Now he marched along, perfectly happy, at the head of the line, chatting to Ishifa in a low voice.

The fairy maid seemed to have taken a liking to the werewolf. He had banged her silly after the Imbolc feast, but Ceri suspected it was more that she could connect with him better. Ophelia was fae, but a high-ranking one. Lily was a half-demon and most Seelie fae seemed wary around demons. Ceri was… well, the list was probably a long one, and Twill was Ishifa’s mistress. But Michael was just an ordinary man, even if he could grow fur and fangs. He was important within the pack, but he held no particularly special position. He was like Ishifa and she liked that.

Suddenly Michael came to an abrupt stop and Ceri almost walked into his back. ‘Trouble?’ she asked.

‘Scent on the wind. Smells like troll.’ The wind was blowing from the west. Maybe the information they had was correct.

‘Can you tell how far?’

‘There’s a small valley up ahead. I think it’s coming up from in there. My nose isn’t quite as good in skin.’

‘We could scout?’ Ishifa suggested. ‘No troll is going to see us and we can come back and tell you what’s there.’

Twill lifted into the air. ‘An excellent suggestion.’ She started forward, followed by Ishifa, and the two of them faded into invisibility before they had gone ten yards.

‘Are they going to be okay?’ Michael asked, keeping his voice soft.

‘Twill was hidden away in High Towers for months before we found her,’ Lily said from the back of the line. ‘And then we only knew she was there because she started doing the dishes.’

‘Fairies and sprites make really excellent scouts and spies,’ Ophelia agreed.

Sure enough, it was only a few minutes before Twill rematerialized, in flight down the track toward them. ‘A small war band,’ she said. ‘Six trolls. They’ve stopped to eat in a clearing about a quarter of a mile from here. Ishifa is keeping an eye on them.’

‘Could you see the tattoo on any of them?’ Ceri asked.

‘Not that I could see.’

‘All right. What do you think our chances are of just talking to them?’

‘Trolls are not exactly noted for their sparkling personalities and communicative natures,’ Ophelia offered. ‘Even if they haven’t been sent to kill us, they probably won’t want to be friends.’

‘I tend to concur with my Unseelie colleague,’ Twill said. ‘I’m not saying you can’t try, just that you should be ready for them to speak with their fists.’

‘I think we should try,’ Ceri suggested. ‘If this bunch aren’t involved with Discord, they may be willing to help us find the ones who are.’

‘Okay,’ Ophelia said, ‘but not “we.” I’m the diplomat, I go talk to them.’

Ceri raised an eyebrow. ‘You’ll go in alone? Walk into their camp and try to get them to talk? That’s kind of… not like you.’

‘Well, it is my arse. Besides, you’re going to be encircling them while I chat, and if they do decide I’d be better on a roasting spit I expect you to save me.’

‘We could do that, yeah,’ Lily replied, smiling sweetly.

~~~

The six trolls had managed to spear a deer of some sort and were busy eating it. There was no fire; trolls were quite happy eating just about anything, including uncooked meat, bones, and the marrow within. There were rumours that a trolls digestive system could get nutrition out of a rock, but this was actually incorrect. They did occasionally swallow pebbles to help with digesting bones, but derived no other benefit from it. Trolls were hardy creatures, suited to the wild places they called home, and considered monsters by the other fae.

Hence, when the tall, attractive Sidhe walked into the clearing they were using as a camp with her hands raised and no visible weapons on her person, the trolls were a little surprised. A couple of them, who had managed to get their hands on a captured Sidhe female before thought it was their lucky day.

‘Good afternoon, gentlemen,’ Ophelia said, which just resulted in them looking at each other and wondering whether she was insane. ‘It’s such a lovely day, that I thought I might come up to the mountains, stretch my legs, maybe meet some fine young men such as yourselves and have a chat…’

The nearest of the trolls, who happened to be their leader when the others agreed they needed a leader, got to his feet and turned to look at Ophelia properly. He opened his mouth to say something, but the Sidhe was not going to be interrupted.

‘Frankly, I’m a bit lost. I’m not used to being out in the country, let alone up in these mountains. It’s cold, and hard on the feet, and full of dangerous animals, and a poor girl like me should have a few strong men to guard her, but I’m all alone.’

Settling herself into position in the bushes opposite Ophelia, Ceri wondered what on Earth the woman was doing. Did she really think trolls would fall for the “little lost girl” act? Mind you, they had not grabbed her and started pulling her limbs off. Yet.

Ophelia lowered her arms, crossing her wrists behind her back and leaning forward slightly. ‘Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea, coming out here alone, but I’m a wanted woman, you see. A fugitive. The other fae really don’t like me. So I came out here in search of a place to hide. Maybe I’ll meet some big… strong… men, who would protect me from the dangerous things out here. Big… strong… men, who wouldn’t want to hurt me like the other fae want to do.’

There was no sense of magic. Whatever Ophelia was doing there was no spell involved, but she was definitely doing something.

‘You all look like big… strong… safe… protective… men who would never harm a poor lost soul like me. You wouldn’t hurt harmless little me, would you?’ Almost as though they were drugged, the six trolls slowly shook their heads. ‘Could I come and sit with you? Then I’d be safe.’ Six heads nodded slowly and the leader sat back down on his rock. Ophelia started toward him. ‘Nice and safe. I feel so safe with all you big, strong trolls.’ She sat down on one of the leader’s thighs and smiled sweetly at him. ‘Don’t let me stop you eating. I’ll just sit here, all safe, and maybe some of my friends might turn up, and then we’ll all be safe together.’

Ceri shook her head, a disbelieving smile on her face, and waited for the next part of Ophelia’s plan. Over the course of about twenty minutes, as the Sidhe diplomat spoke calmly and reassuringly to the trolls, the rest of the party walked into the clearing and sat down. Ceri was waiting for the creatures to twig that they had been lied to, that Ophelia was not alone and lost, but they just sat there, rumbled a greeting as the others arrived, and went back to crunching deer bones.

By the time Ceri walked in, two of the trolls had a fairy sitting on their broad shoulders, Lily was perched on another troll’s thigh, and a furry Michael was sprawled on the grass.

‘And here’s Ceri!’ Ophelia said, her voice suggesting a delightful surprise. ‘Everyone’s here. Isn’t that great? Now we’re really safe. No one can hurt us now. Especially not those nasty Discord people.’

The lead troll rumbled deep in his chest. ‘Wut you know’uh Duscord?’ The accent was so thick Ceri had trouble deciphering it, but Ophelia seemed fairly clear on what he had said.

‘They sent trolls to attack me. And an assassin.’

‘Duscord hold best huntin’ land. Kill trolls wut don’t join ‘em.’

Ceri picked a troll to sit on, settling herself on his right thigh and giving him a nice smile. They had accepted them. It was crazy, but it was working.

‘Trolls wit wild Sidhe. Sidhe make big prumises. Me no believe dem.’

‘Quite right too,’ Ophelia said. ‘They’re not safe like we are. And it’s so wrong that those nasty people are keeping you from your hunting grounds. If we knew where they were, we could surely do something about them.’

‘Dey strong. Liddle girl like you be hurt.’ The rumbling voice actually sounded concerned.

‘Oh yes,’ Ophelia agreed. ‘But my friends here would be able to hurt them. Michael is a werewolf, and Lily is half demon, and Ceri is a powerful sorceress.’

The big troll sniffed. ‘Smell the power. Smell the human on ‘er too. She be careful. Discord Boss, he be fond o’ human girls. Dat wut they say.’

Ceri’s eyes narrowed. She caught Ophelia’s eyes as the Sidhe looked her way, frowning slightly. Oberon had said that the Discord ideogram had first cropped up in Ireland. So their leader had started there and developed a taste for human women. From the way the troll was speaking, it did not sound like he treated them well.

‘Oh, we won’t let anything happen to Ceri,’ Ophelia said confidently. ‘Where would we find those evil Discord people?’

‘Dey’s two day’s walk t’du sunset. Dey hold lands udder side o’ Sreng’s Grave.’

Ophelia looked across at Ceri again. ‘It’s a monolith on the western edge of the High Glenn.’ She smiled up at her troll-seat. ‘Thank you very much. You’ve been very helpful. May your hunting be most bountiful.’

The troll rumbled pleasantly. ‘Tink you huntin’ be harder, liddle Sidhe.’

Ceri suspected he was probably right.

~~~

‘What did you do to them?’ Lily asked as they walked away from the trolls, heading west.

Ophelia shrugged. ‘Talked to them. It’s a trick I learned from one of the old Sidhe in the Silvershields. If you keep talking and use the right tone, and a little careful voice modulation… I’m sorry to say it worked really well on them because trolls haven’t enough brain power to light a one watt bulb, but hey, it was useful.’

Lily giggled. ‘Yes, very useful. So what are the lands like to the west of this Glenn?’

‘No idea.’

‘Never been there?’

‘No, but hardly anyone else has in the last four hundred years. Before that most people never went west of the Glenn. It’s more or less unknown territory. You know those old maps with the “here be dragons” bit on them? Well, the western pass from the High Glenn leads to that bit on our map.’

‘Dragons?’ Ceri asked, looking back and grinning.

‘Perhaps not the best analogy,’ Ophelia grinned back. ‘Mind you… Could a dragon have survived if they were here instead of on Earth?’

‘Honestly? I haven’t the vaguest idea. Molech claimed that the collapse of the bridge between their world and Earth would have hastened the end of their universe, and it certainly killed the dragons on Earth, but I’ve no idea what the physics were.’

‘So there could be dragons out there?’

‘If I had to guess, no. If they were interested in this place you’d probably have known about it by now. Otherworld seems like a great place for them, and they could have made a play for it any time in the last several thousand years. Maybe there’s something about this place that makes it hard on them.’ Ceri gave a shrug. ‘Magic, it’s kind of mysterious, y’know?’

‘Says the girl who spends all her time trying to explain it.’ Twill commented.

‘Doesn’t mean I ever will. Have you noticed the birds?’

‘The crows?’ Michael asked. ‘I’d noticed them, but they’re just crows.’

Above them, dark birds circled and wheeled in the air currents above the mountains. There seemed to be more of them now, as though they were gathering to watch the party.

‘War birds,’ Ophelia commented.

‘Huh?’ Ceri replied.

‘Crows are the birds of the Morrigna, the three Goddesses of War. I’m not sure so many of them would be considered a good omen.’

Ceri frowned, a half-remembered dream surfacing in her mind. War is coming… ‘Ever heard the name “Ciocal”?’

‘The first recorded leader of the Formori bore that name. It’s not particularly popular, but a few Unseelie name their children for him. Why?’

Ceri shook her head. ‘Just something I remember from a dream.’ She looked up again, following the path of one of the larger birds as it turned and swept west ahead of them. War is coming…

~~~

Ceri and Michael went hunting in the late afternoon. She was not quite so adept at it in skin, but they had Michael’s nose and her magic, and they were soon on the trail of a small herd of deer. Ceri, a thoroughly civilised girl who happened to run with a werewolf pack, was not really keen on hunting down such beautiful creatures, but it seemed kind of fair in a way. It was natural talent versus natural talent, even if Ceri’s natural talent was for sorcery.

Spotting a lone deer nibbling at some grass away from the rest, they crept forward, keeping upwind until they were close enough. Then Ceri insisted on putting the animal to sleep before Michael moved forward and broke its neck. Quick, humane, and Ceri did not feel quite so bad about it knowing their prey had felt nothing. Michael was about to hoist the doe onto his shoulders to take back when they saw the stag. Ceri’s breath caught in her throat.

He was big, powerful, with a huge head of antlers bearing around twenty points, and white fur which almost glowed in the gathering twilight. He watched them with his black eyes, muscles tensed and head held high, and Ceri felt that some gesture was needed. Stepping forward slowly, she bowed to him. As her head lifted, he pushed one foreleg forward and returned the bow.

‘Okay, Michael,’ she whispered. ‘Pick her up.’

The werewolf did so almost reverently, draping the doe over his shoulders and giving a nod to the stag before turning to leave. Ceri watched the white stag for a second longer, and then turned to follow.

~~~

‘A White Hart?!’ Ishifa squeaked. ‘A real one? And he bowed to you?’

‘What’s so special about a white deer?’ Ophelia asked, watching Twill and Michael as they worked on the dead deer with a hint of disgust on her face.

‘There are maybe a dozen of them at any one time,’ Twill explained. ‘They are among the kings of fae beasts. To see one is rare, to have one show respect is even rarer.’

‘Supposedly,’ Ceri said, ‘the Wild Hunt chases one on Samhain on Earth. Not that I’ve ever seen that.’

‘Thanks be to whichever gods you believe in,’ Lily put in.

Ceri nodded. ‘The Wild Hunt is supposed to be something to be avoided. The Hart was… well, he was beautiful.’

‘He recognised that we were hunting for food, not sport,’ Michael said. ‘That’s why he let us go with his doe.’

‘That,’ Twill said, ‘and they live in a sort of respectful predator-prey relationship with another of the fae creatures, the great Black Wolves who live up here in the mountains. He may have recognised the black wolf in Ceri, and your own parentage, Michael.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Ophelia said, frowning. ‘Ceri’s not a werewolf, and Michael’s grey.’

‘Michael’s grey,’ Ceri replied, ‘because he’s the son of a black-fur and a human.’

‘And Ceri becomes a black-fur,’ Michael continued, ‘by the grace of the Goddess, when she runs with my pack.’

‘Kind of a long story,’ Ceri said, grinning at Ophelia’s confused expression, ‘concerning demon-werewolves, embodied goddesses, and Stonehenge. I’m surprised you didn’t know about it.’

‘Hey, we steer clear of the werewolves. They don’t bother us, we don’t bother them.’

‘A good policy,’ Michael said, calmly stripping the hide from one of the doe’s legs.

‘I always thought so,’ Ophelia agreed. ‘And now I’m going to go over to those bushes and throw up.’

~~~

Ceri had not had Michael inside her while outdoors in months. The thrill of it was not quite the same here, they were very unlikely to be caught at it, but then again Ophelia, Twill, and Ishifa were not far away and that gave a hint of naughtiness to what they were doing.

Lily, the reason they were doing it now at all, was a lot closer. Her hands slid over them as they made love, adding to the sensations they were both feeling as she synchronised herself with Michael’s body. He was on top, his hips banging against Ceri’s behind with each thrust. It was strange, but Ceri found sex outdoors was better like this. More animal, more basic, more…

She felt her orgasm starting even as she felt Michael’s tension near its climax. She knew what was coming and lowered her face into the sweet-smelling grass, gritting her teeth to stay silent as the rush of exhilaration washed over her. Michael did not stop, did not come; Lily was feeding on him and he would keep going, keep pounding into Ceri, until she gave him release.

Panting as her orgasm ebbed, Ceri arched her back a little to increase the angle of penetration. A second climax was just around the corner; she knew she could not have held it back if she had wanted to. Her body had grown used to this exquisite torture, had wanted it more than she realised. Her head tilted back as her climax began… And then she felt Lily’s hand cup her mound and the slight tug as the succubus pulled energy from her Tantric Median, and Ceri was coming forever…

~~~

‘That’s a new trick,’ Ceri commented as they walked back into the clearing where the others were waiting.

‘I wanted to know if I could feed on two people at once.’ Lily’s reply had a giggle in it.

‘It was incredible.’

‘Goddess yes!’ Michael growled. ‘You clamped down on me like a vice and I still couldn’t stop. You can do that again.’

‘You know,’ Ophelia said from the other side of the fire, ‘going off and fornicating while we sit around listening is bad enough. Coming back talking about how utterly incredible it was is cruel and unusual.’

Giggling, Lily bounced around the fire and sat down beside the Sidhe. ‘Aww, is the poor liddle fae feeling randy?’ She wrapped an arm around Ophelia’s shoulders and hugged her closer.

‘You stop that,’ Ophelia replied. ‘Yes I am and you sitting there naked and hugging me is not helping.’ Her protestations turned into a little whimper as Lily’s hand cupped her breast through her shirt.

Ceri saw the sparks of red in Lily’s pupils. Sitting down beside the fire, she spoke softly. ‘Lil, that’s enough.’ The little fire was warm against bare skin; Ceri felt good and there was no rancour in her command. She was just pulling her pet’s reins in.

The light in Lily’s eyes went out, but she gave Ceri a playful pout. ‘Yes, Mistress. Sorry, Ophelia.’

That’s okay.’ The reply came out as a pant and the Sidhe waited a second until her breathing steadied before adding, ‘If you’re going to keep doing that, I’m going to ask to borrow Lily at some point.’

‘Granted, but not now. She’s too hyper. We don’t want any accidents when she’s doing so well.’

Lily seemed to have sobered very quickly. ‘No. My soul’s stained enough after what Barnes did to me.’

Ceri nodded sadly. ‘I don’t want to know what mine looks like. How many people died when I opened the bridge for the dragons?’

‘That wasn’t you fault,’ Lily replied, perhaps a little more harshly than she intended.

‘I still feel the guilt for it.’ She let out a sigh. ‘That’s the way I am and I’ll probably keep doing dumb things like this until I think I’ve made up for it. I’ll stand first watch. I don’t feel like sleeping too soon.’

‘We have a long walk ahead of us,’ Twill said. ‘Well, you have. We’ll be sitting on Michael’s shoulders, but that’s surprisingly tiring. I think we should all get some rest.’

‘Yeah,’ Ophelia muttered, ‘after what Lil did to me I’m not going to sleep. I’ll sit up with Ceri for a while.’

~~~

‘The Morrigna,’ Ceri said, her voice hushed, ‘is that like the Morrigan?’

‘Morrigan is kind of one of the three, and all three at the same time.’ Ophelia took a few of the small branches they had found and placed them on the fire, her eyes on the flames. ‘Religion was never my strong point. It’s a metaphysical trinity thing. The names of the three vary with the story. Badb, Macha, and Nemain, sometimes Nemain is replaced by Anann, but Anann is also Morrigan.’

‘And they are the goddesses of war.’

‘Basically. Each represents different aspects. But Morrigan is also to do with sovereignty. Like I said, religion isn’t one of my strong points. But if a king has Morrigan on his side, he can be assured of victory in any battle.’

We can help… or hinder… Ceri shook her head. ‘You should get some rest. You’re looking tired.’

Ophelia nodded. ‘Not used to the fresh air and exercise.’ She stood enough to carry her the few feet to her bedroll and settled down, pulling the blanket over her legs. ‘You know, Lily’s great in bed, but I’d happily go with you.’ Ceri blinked at her, the statement taking her by surprise. ‘There’s something about you,’ the Sidhe went on. ‘Like a… glow. It’s intoxicating. I doubt there’s a fae alive that wouldn’t want you.’ Giving a quick smile, as though embarrassed, she settled down and pulled her blanket up.

Titania had said something similar, and Lily had once said that her power was attractive to other supernaturals. Ceri gave a shrug and put it out of her mind. It was not important right now.

February 7th

It was colder and there were flecks of snow on the wind. They had climbed perhaps a thousand feet and there were fewer valleys in which to take shelter if the weather got bad, but they kept on going.

‘By evening,’ Ophelia said as they crested one rise in the path only to see another, higher, rise beyond, ‘we should be past this and starting down a little. But it isn’t called the High Glenn for nothing.’

‘And they hold battles there?’ Lily asked, her tone suggesting it was insane.

‘It’s essentially a very wide pass through the mountains. It’s been the traditional battleground between Seelie and Unseelie armies for millennia.’

‘Since before they were called Seelie and Unseelie,’ Twill agreed.

They kept climbing, and the weather kept getting worse as they went. At first it was just the temperature dropping, and the flecks of snow becoming flakes of snow. But as the sun began to head down toward the horizon from its peak, the wind began to rise in force and soon the snow was stinging their cheeks and the visibility was falling.

‘You see those clouds ahead?’ Michael asked, having to raise his voice over the wind.

Ceri looked past his shoulder toward the west. Thick, black clouds were boiling up like something out of a fantasy movie and obviously moving closer at a gathering pace. ‘I really don’t like the look of those,’ Ceri yelled back. ‘I feel like I’m an extra in Lord of the Rings and we’re climbing past Caradhras.’

‘We need to find shelter,’ Michael replied, not really getting the reference. ‘There was a cave about a hundred yards off the track about half a mile back.’

Nodding, Ceri turned around to where Lily and Ophelia were waiting, the Sidhe huddled into herself and shivering. ‘We’re backing up to find shelter,’ Ceri shouted. ‘There’s a storm coming up from the west. Michael says there’s a cave a little way back along the track.’

Lily nodded and started to turn. ‘I remember it. We’ll be there in under ten minutes.’

Ceri glanced over her shoulder at the growing bank of black cloud. She could see the dusty shadow beneath it which had to be rain or snow. ‘I think that would be a good idea,’ she muttered, though she doubted anyone heard her.

The cave mouth was not large, and the interior was very dark, but by the time they made it back along the path they could not hear each other over the wind and even Lily was starting to look uncomfortable in the cold. Hoping that the weather was not driving them into more trouble, they ducked their heads under the low roof of the cave’s entrance and slipped inside.

Ceri came in last, drawing a line in the dust on the floor with her toe and then summoning up a weather-proof sphere of energy which managed to plug the entrance nicely. She turned and found Twill hovering not far into the low passage with a ball of glowing light hovering in the air beside her. ‘Careful,’ the fairy said. ‘The floor drops away a few feet in. Not too steeply, but you might stumble.’

‘Thanks, Twill.’ Ceri moved ahead and, sure enough, the ground dipped allowing her to stand upright. Another few yards and the cave became broader, opening out into a cavern wide enough for them all to gather in. Ishifa had a ball of light hovering beside her and, as Ceri walked in, Ophelia was setting a longer duration light spell on the ceiling a couple of feet above their heads. Ceri grinned at her. ‘So you do have some useful talents not involving talking.’

The Sidhe grinned back. ‘I’m old enough that I’ve learned a few spells. Nothing like you, though.’

‘I just make it up as I go along.’

‘She does,’ Lily agreed, ‘but she’s really good at it. What do we do now? If we build a fire in here we’ll be breathing smoke in a few minutes.’

Twill landed on Michael’s pack where he had put it down at the back of the cave. ‘We have food enough without cooking it. A storm like that can’t last long. We wait it out.’

‘Only thing we can do,’ Michael agreed, ‘but I’m not so sure about the storm. It smelled wrong.’ Ceri looked over and raised an eyebrow at her mate. ‘The wind, it smelled of magic.’

‘A storm that size,’ Ophelia said, ‘if it’s not natural it’d take a lot of power to form and maintain. Whoever did it won’t be able to keep it up for long.’

‘Let’s hope not,’ Ceri replied. ‘All right, let’s get the bedrolls out. We get out of these wet clothes and into warm bedding before we get too cold.’

February 8th

A thick blanket of snow was piling up against Ceri’s shield when they looked out the following morning, and the storm was driving more of it in, showing no sign of abating. ‘They must have a team of casters working to keep it going,’ Ceri said. ‘If they’ve enough of them, they could keep it going forever.’

‘Like Alexandra does with the pack?’ Michael asked.

Ceri nodded. ‘Same principle. Each person lends a little power to the ritual. Practitioners can give more and, once the spell is running, they can take over to maintain it.’ She frowned. ‘This can’t be aimed at us, surely? I mean, what’s the point? How would they even know we’re here?’

‘You said they had spies in the palace,’ Michael reminded her.

Ceri nodded and waved him back into the cave. ‘The storm’s still going,’ she said when they were back with the others. ‘Someone’s burning a lot of power to keep us holed up, and I don’t understand why?’

‘Maybe we’re not the reason for the storm,’ Ophelia suggested.

‘It seems like a remarkable coincidence,’ Twill replied.

‘And if it wasn’t directed at us,’ Michael added, ‘I’d have thought it would have gone past.’

‘Yeah,’ Ceri agreed. ‘How someone who can arrange for a storm like this can think of us as a threat I have no idea.’

Ophelia looked at her with an expression of slightly confused amusement. ‘Are you always like this?’

‘Yes,’ Lily replied, ‘she is.’

‘Like what?’ Ceri asked, her voice carrying a hint of a whine.

‘Let’s see,’ Ophelia said, her index finger rising to tap thoughtfully on her lips. ‘You’re the only known, living sorceress. You’re Lady Ayasha, the Overlord of All Demons, and you wear the Iron Crown. You’re travelling with Lilith, Ayasha’s pet demon, and the two of you marched across half the Demon Realm defeating every enemy you came across, including a very powerful fae. And you want to know why they might consider you a threat?’

‘Oh. When you put it like that…’ Ceri turned back toward the cave mouth. ‘In that case, I’d better see about living up to my reputation.’

‘What are you going to do?’ Lily asked, her voice urgent.

‘I’m going to see if I can locate the ceremony they’re using and do something to stop it.’ Moving quickly up to where her shield was holding back the snow, she pushed the foot of her staff out into the open air beyond. The wind battered at it, even low to the ground, but it gave her physical contact with the magic beyond the shield. Focussing her will, she concentrated on locating the source of the spell. Like many things she tried, she had never done anything like this before, but it came easily after a few seconds. An image filled her mind; the interior of a tent of some sort, female figures sitting around a fire, chanting. She had it. The next part was going to be harder.

Walking back into the cave, Ceri considered her options and came up with the only one which seemed even vaguely safe. ‘Lil, I need to borrow some power from you.’

Lily beamed and moved closer, taking Ceri’s hand. ‘Of course. You know you don’t have to ask.’

‘Keep an eye on the entrance,’ Ceri said to Michael as she settled herself onto her bedroll, Lily sitting beside her. ‘This isn’t going to be easy.’ She closed her eyes and drew power through Lily, focussing it on the image she had seen in her mind, concentrating on projecting her awareness to that point. Her hands clenched as she forced her mind out along the path the storm had taken…

Ceri’s eyes snapped open with a gasp. ‘Damn! This is harder than I thought.’

‘What are you doing?’ Lily asked.

‘If I can project my awareness to the ritual site, I should be able to target spells there. It’s a lot of power and not easy to do.’

Lily squeezed her hand. ‘You can do it, love. Just concentrate.’

Closing her eyes again, Ceri did just as Lily suggested. One more try. What did she have to lose? If she could not manage it they would be stuck in the cave until… Her eyes flicked open, but instead of the cave, she was looking at the interior of a roughly made tent. Perhaps “yurt” would be the right name. Six women sat around the central fire, their hands touching. They were not human, and not the beautiful fae Ceri was so used to seeing. Deep, black eyes, long, hooked noses, sagging breasts, and weathered, pale, almost snow-white skin. These were hags, the females of the trolls. It made sense, they were noted for magical ability and far more brains than the males.

Focussing on the one who seemed to be leading the chant, Ceri drew on her power and began to form her spell. She wanted something like a suggestion spell, but with more force. She had never done anything like it, because this kind of spell would have been classed as very illegal if she had done it anywhere else. She bound the spell into the core of the hag’s mind; one, simple command which would, hopefully, disrupt the casting of the storm spell for a good, long time. She felt the spell settle into place and lock itself in, and just had time to see the hag turn and unleash a torrent of fire at her nearest neighbour, before letting herself snap back to the cave.

Lily was panting. ‘Wow… you’ve never… drawn that much… power through… me before.’

‘You’re all right though?’

‘God yes! But I so want to fuck you now…’ The last came out as a whine.

‘Well, it’ll take a while for the storm to dissipate,’ Ceri said, grinning, ‘but I’m a little tired. Why don’t you do Ophelia instead?’ Lily’s grin became predatory and she started toward the Sidhe in a low crawl.

‘What?!’ Ophelia squeaked. ‘Here? Now? In front of everyone…?’ She trailed off as Lily’s hunting aura washed over her, energy pulsing up through her Tantric Median and pushing her libido into overdrive. Sinking back onto her bedroll, she let out a little whimper.

Ceri lay down herself, grinning weakly, and waited for the moaning to start.

~~~

The storm had cleared after about an hour, though there was still some lingering cold in the air, and the sky was now a clear blue. Once again the crows wheeled and soared on the wind which was back to a light breeze at ground level. They had managed to cover several miles before midday and the upward progression had given way to level ground, and then begun to edge downward.

‘You don’t think they’ll try to start the storm up again?’ Ophelia asked as they stopped to rest and eat.

‘Maybe,’ Ceri replied, ‘but I forced their lead caster to try to stop them ever casting that spell again. She started by slaughtering her assistants. I figure they’ll have to kill her to get her to stop.’

‘That’s nasty,’ Ophelia opined. She sounded rather pleased about it.

‘Not my proudest moment,’ Ceri replied.

The Sidhe frowned at her and then nodded. ‘I guess. I’m Unseelie for a reason. I tend to like my enemies in a casket and I don’t have too many qualms about how I put them there. I should probably be glad you don’t think that way. So should you, as long as you’re willing to do what’s needed when you have to.’

‘She is,’ Lily stated flatly. ‘She waits until after to feel guilty about it.’

‘If I had your power,’ Ophelia said, ‘you’d probably have to hunt me down. No one else could stop me.’

‘It’s a good thing you don’t then,’ Ceri replied. She glanced at Lily. Lily had used armour that protected her from sorcery to get to Ceri in Battersea Power Station, past an army of dragons.

‘You’re looking pensive, dear,’ Twill commented.

Ceri gave her a smile. ‘Just making a note of something I need to do when we get home.’

~~~

By mid-afternoon they had made it to a rather steep, winding path which dropped from the upper edge of the eastern side of the High Glenn to the floor of it. At least they could see now why the fae had decided it was a good place to hold a battle.

It was vast, stretching around a mile to the other wall of the pass and out of sight in either direction north and south. The ground was not entirely even, but there were large expanses of low grass which likely made it easier on the soldiers, and some large boulders dotting the land which the generals and such could hide behind.

The other reason that the place was probably liked by armies with a high proportion of practitioners became apparent as soon as they got to the top of the path down and Ceri looked out across the Glenn with her Sight. There was a huge band of energy flowing north to south through the middle of the pass; a ley line, and a big one. Power appeared to be leaking off it like a river overflowing its banks, rushing out across the land, and actually breaking against the walls like a wave against a sea wall.

‘My God,’ Ceri said as they descended into the magical maelstrom down the path, ‘this place is absolutely humming. You feel that, Lily?’

‘Uh-huh,’ Lily replied, her voice a little breathy. Ceri looked back to see faint red sparks in her demon’s eyes.

‘I can smell it,’ Michael said. ‘Smells more… earthy than magic usually does. Kind of basic.’

‘That probably explains why Lily looks about ready to jump someone’s bones then,’ Ceri suggested.

Ophelia let out a squeak. ‘I did her this morning!’

‘You’re safe,’ Ceri replied, looking back at the ley line. ‘Or rather, it wouldn’t be safe to let her go on you again. That line is… like raw, natural power. Like Michael said. Lily feels it as something sexual, Michael’s probably feeling his wolf, looks like Twill and Ishifa are feeling frisky.’ The two fairies had lifted from Michael’s shoulders and were darting down the path ahead of the group and back again excitedly.

‘I don’t really feel it,’ Ophelia said. ‘Too civilised, I guess. What are you feeling?’

‘Power,’ Ceri replied. ‘A whole lot of power. My skin’s tingling and…’ She looked around at Ophelia again and saw the woman’s eyes widen. ‘Yeah, my eyes are doing the glowing blue thing again, aren’t they?’ Ophelia nodded slowly. Lily just licked her lips; Ceri could feel her pet’s arousal over their link. Ceri frowned and turned back to watch the path ahead.

‘Maybe we should reconsider this,’ Ophelia suggested. ‘Lily’s getting really tense and if we go through the pass to the other side we may run into Discord’s forces. And if we camp in the pass…’

‘I might eat someone,’ Lily growled, finishing Ophelia’s sentence.

‘Yeah, that.’

‘We’ll walk through,’ Ceri said, her voice firm. ‘I don’t think they’ll be so close to the pass and I don’t want to go back now.’

The ley line, quite visible in Ceri’s Sight, was nevertheless underground, which they were thankful for. If Lily had had to walk through it she would have had a lot of trouble keeping herself under control. As it was she was trembling by the time they reached one of the pathways on the western side. They still had to walk almost half a mile up the gentle slope before the half-succubus pulled in a lungful of air as though it had suddenly become fresher.

Ceri turned, looking back. She could see the field lines lapping at Ophelia’s feet, but they were basically clear of the intensified field. She glanced up at Lily.

‘Your eyes are back to normal,’ Lily said, ‘and I feel just normally horny.’ She grimaced. ‘I could do with washing a little though, or my thighs are going to chafe.’

‘Eww!’ Ophelia whined from behind her. ‘I don’t need to know that!’

Ceri smiled at them both, relieved to be free of the oppressive magic field. ‘We’ll find somewhere to camp as soon as we can.’

There was a depression in the rocks another quarter of a mile uphill with a curtain of bushes around the edge which provided some cover. They would need to double up on the watches and stay low, but it would do. Lighting a fire would have just given their position away, so they put their bedrolls close together and Ceri put up a weather shield around them. Lily was naked inside of fifteen minutes and using a little water to clean herself up.

‘That field really had you worked up,’ Ophelia commented.

‘It was like walking through a bath of sex pheromones,’ Lily replied, wiping at her calves. ‘Went straight to the primitive parts of my brain, the most demon bits.’ She looked up. ‘I’ll take first watch, sleeping isn’t going to be an option for a while.’

‘I’ll stay up with you,’ Ceri said.

Lily looked around at her. ‘I’m okay, you know?’

‘Who says I am?’

‘I know it triggered that eye thing, but…’

‘You’re not the only one with alien DNA and aspects of your primitive brain that have a few… peculiar wrinkles. I’m feeling very, um, assertive.’

Lily grinned and gave a little giggle. ‘Should I have brought the chains and whips?’

‘Yes, but not for now. You know how you used to refuse to be dominant when your demon side was playing up? Same thing. I’m not letting my dragon dictate my actions.’

‘Very wise,’ Twill commented, and Michael reached out to squeeze Ceri’s shoulder.

‘Times like this,’ Ophelia said, ‘when I’m glad I’m “just” a fae.’

February 9th

Ceri’s eyes flicked open and she sat up, her blanket falling away from her. Something had crossed into the alarm zone she had set up before going to sleep. Michael had noticed it as well; he was already in fur, tense and ready. Ophelia was looking frantically around, a dagger in her hand. Ceri heard the Sidhe’s breath catch and turned to look where she was looking.

Standing at the edge of the clearing was a wolf. Larger than average, it had very dark fur. On Earth, black wolves were actually the result of interbreeding with domestic dogs which had been the first to develop the melanistic gene. Ceri had learned the information while reading up on werewolf pack behaviour and the differences between that and wolves. Black werewolves, however, were the purest blooded, and here black wolves were the fae version of the wild animals. This was no ordinary wolf.

The creature’s lip curled and it gave a soft growl. Ceri frowned; the sound seemed almost decipherable and she looked over at Michael. Michael growled back, and she understood what he said. We mean no harm, brother.

Lily sat up, slowly, her eyes on the wolf. Ceri focussed, listening hard, and this time the wolf’s voice made sense. You hunt? It was quite like werewolf, in the same way French and Italian had similar sounds and basic structures.

Hunt fae, Michael replied. Bad fae.

‘Is he talking to it?’ Ophelia whispered.

‘Yes,’ Lily replied. ‘And he’s a him, not an it.’ The wolf settled back onto his haunches, sitting down. His eyes turned on Ophelia and Lily, and the Sidhe swallowed hard.

Fae, demon, man, wolf. Strange pack.

Michael gave a soft snicker. Yes. All friends.

Me watch with strange wolf until sun. The black wolf settled down, resting his muzzle on his paws.

Ceri looked around at Lily and Ophelia. ‘You two sleep. We’ve an extra pair of eyes for the night.’ She settled down herself before glancing at Michael. ‘You’ve got this?’ She got a nod in reply.

‘Yeah,’ Ophelia said, keeping her voice low, ‘like I’m going to get to sleep now.’

~~~

When Ceri opened her eyes again, the wolf had moved. At first she thought the creature had wandered off, but then she saw Michael, and he twitched his muzzle toward Ophelia. Turning around, Ceri found the wolf sprawled beside the Sidhe. One of her arms was draped over the animal’s back and she was very much asleep.

When Ceri turned back to Michael he was human again. ‘She was really nervous until he wandered over and snuggled up against her. Then she was even more nervous for a couple of minutes until she started scratching between his ears. And then she was cuddling up to him and nodding off.’

Ceri chuckled. ‘He can probably spot a sucker at five miles.’

‘He can spot other things too. There’s an encampment half a day’s run south and west of here. A big encampment. Wolves aren’t good with numbers, but there are a lot of people there.’

‘I guess that’s where we’re headed then.’ She glanced down and frowned slightly. Twill and Ishifa were snuggled under Michael’s blanket. ‘You have fairies in your bedding.’

Michael gave her a smirk. ‘Well, they were a little afraid of the wolf too, and you weren’t in my bedding.’

‘That’s something we’ll have to rectify at our earliest convenience.’ She smiled. ‘Just because we have to keep Lily fed, doesn’t mean we have to neglect your needs.’

‘Too right,’ Lily mumbled, her voice sleepy. ‘Do I have to get up now?’

‘Yes, shekushka, you do.’

With a drowsy giggle, Lily turned onto her back and sat up. ‘Well, if you’re going to call me that…’

~~~

They had presented the wolf with a gift of some of the venison they still had uncooked, and he had decided that they could use a guide for at least some of the journey. When the path they were on broadened out after an hour or so of walking, they discovered that their escort was more numerous than they had thought. A dozen wolves, these ones grey, appeared over the course of ten minutes or so, trotting along beside the party. The only person who seemed unsurprised at this course of events was Michael.

‘You were thinking, maybe, that he was a loner?’ the werewolf asked.

‘I just hadn’t noticed a hint of them being there,’ Ceri replied.

‘They are good,’ Michael conceded. ‘I caught a few scents, that’s about it.’

The pack did not stay with them constantly, though the black wolf and three of the five females did. The others peeled off periodically, scouting ahead and checking the area around them. After a mile or so Ceri had worked out why these particular she-wolves were sticking to the relative safety of the group; these ones were pregnant. One of them seemed to be the mate of the black since she trotted along at his side almost constantly.

Toward midday they walked over a ridge to find themselves looking down a slope toward an open bowl of a valley. It was largely grassland, but it had small clumps of stunted trees dotted around it. The wolves came to a stop on the edge and the black growled something which Ceri did not catch.

‘He says we’re on our own from here,’ Michael translated. ‘The trolls in this region hunt wolves and there are Discord patrols.’

Ceri looked down at the wolf and nodded. ‘It’s been a pleasure having you with us. I don’t want you putting yourself in danger for us. Good hunting.’

The wolf bowed his head and growled out, Good hunting.

Ceri raised an eyebrow. ‘You understand Low Fae?’

He barked out a laugh in reply. Of course.

Suddenly there was a yelp of pain and Lily was yelling, ‘Archer!’ and everyone was moving at once.

‘Where?’ Ceri called out as they ducked behind rocks, but the answer was obvious as a group of six black-clad Sidhe burst from one of the nearest copses. ‘Right,’ Ceri hissed and the ball of orange light which had been growing in her palm flew toward the trees. Fire exploded through the trunks, leaves burned. The second arrow never left the trees, but they had the foot soldiers to deal with.

Perhaps if the wolves had not been there it would have been harder, but the Sidhe had hurt one of their own and that made it the animals’ fight as well. Michael burst from cover, running with the wild wolves as they charged toward their targets, Lily pulled her sai and bolted after them, and Ceri was slower, but she hefted her staff and roared in anger as she charged forward. Ophelia was not so ready to join combat as the others, but she moved in, ready to take on anything she could get within reach of. Even Twill and Ishifa flew in. The fairies were hardly suited to fighting normal-sized people, but they darted in, distracting their targets, grabbed swords with telekinesis and stopped them hitting, and generally made a complete nuisance of themselves.

Ceri blocked a sword blow with her staff, turned, and swept her attacker’s legs from under him. As she slammed the foot of her staff into the man’s torso she saw Lily catch a blade with one of her weapons, twist it harshly, yanking the sword free of its owner’s hands, and then she drove the point of her other sai into his guts. The light in the man’s eyes went out almost instantly. Ceri put her foot down on her victim’s hand, stopping him from using his sword, and moved her staff to hover over his face. He lay still.

And it was over. A couple of seconds of frantic activity and the only survivor was the man Ceri was standing on, unless the archer had survived and Ceri doubted that would last long since four wolves were running into what was left of the trees. She turned her head and gasped; the black wolf had returned to the path into the valley and was standing over his fallen mate, licking at her face. An arrow was sticking out of the female’s shoulder.

‘Michael, Ophelia, watch this one. Don’t kill him yet. Lily, with me.’ Michael, and two wolves, were standing over the fallen Sidhe before Ophelia could even move, and Ceri hurried across to the two wolves.

The female was still breathing. It was laboured breathing and her eyes were shut, but she was breathing. The black growled as Ceri approached; not a coherent sound, more a warning. Ceri looked up at him as she dropped to her knees. ‘I can help her. Please.’ He backed away a pace and Ceri reached forward to grip the arrow. ‘Lil, hold her shoulder, we need to get this out first.’ Lily did as she was asked, bracing the wolf’s body and Ceri pulled firmly on the arrow shaft. The she-wolf whined in pain and flecks of blood appeared on her lips; the arrow had at least grazed a lung. Thankfully it was a bodkin point, designed to breach armour, not a barbed one, and it came out cleanly. Taking Lily’s hand to supplement her own power, Ceri put her hand over the wound. For a couple of seconds, light flickered around Ceri’s fingers and the wound closed, leaving only a patch of matted fur to show it had been there.

The she-wolf let out another whine and struggled onto her stomach before turning her head and licking the side of Ceri’s face. Ceri giggled. ‘You’re welcome.’

The big male let out a soft growl. Me in you debt. She was going to argue that his mate would not have been hurt if his pack had not been guiding them, but she saw the look in his eyes and just nodded gravely. There was no point in trying to persuade him.

Turning her head, Ceri called out, ‘Bring that prick over here.’

A few seconds later Michael was unceremoniously dumping their lone prisoner against a rock at the side of the path and Ophelia was holding up a copper pendant. ‘Discord again,’ the Sidhe said. ‘Not a big surprise, but he’s one of them.’

Ceri nodded and got to her feet, moving to stand over the warrior. ‘Okay, we can do this…’ She paused, reconsidering her statement. ‘On second thoughts, there’s really only hard ways. The wolves are pissed off, I’m pissed off, and Michael would like to pull your windpipe out through your arse. So here’s the deal. You answer all my questions and I’ll persuade the wolves to give you a ten minute head start. Or… well, I’ve been tortured a few times and I’ve kind of got something of an understanding of what to do. Like, I’m pretty sure I can keep you alive while the wolves eat your legs.’ She used her brightest voice at the last suggestion, and the black wolf gave a menacing growl to punctuate it.

The warrior swallowed. ‘What do you want to know?’

~~~

They reached the edge of the valley where the Discord encampment was located without further trouble thanks to the knowledge that they were being located through a locket which had been stolen from Ophelia at the same time as her dagger had been taken. Just to be sure, Ceri had cast spells to block scrying on all of them.

The other major thing they had confirmed on finding the camp was the size of the force. There were a lot of people, of various types, who appeared to owe their allegiance to Discord and had assembled here for whatever reason. The valley was large, roughly elliptical with the widest axis running east-west, and there were tents and campfires stretching across almost the entire floor of it.

‘Five thousand he said,’ Ophelia whispered. It was unlikely anyone could hear them from their vantage point above the valley, but they were taking no chances. ‘It doesn’t look like he was exaggerating much.’

‘What are those things?’ Michael asked, pointing down at the huge trolls patrolling the outer edge of the camp.

‘Ice trolls,’ Ophelia replied. ‘They don’t normally come down below the snow line. They’re not fond of heat. Bigger and stronger than mountain trolls, just as stupid. They make crap sentries, actually.’

‘Didn’t you say the hags you saw had white skin, Ceri?’ Twill asked.

‘Uh-huh. I mean, really white, like fresh snow.’

‘Ice hags,’ the fairy replied, nodding. ‘They’re good at weather magic. It’s said we get bad winters when they gather together and send storms into the lowlands so their trolls can hunt there.’

‘Great,’ Ceri grunted. ‘So we’ve got Sidhe and at least two variants of trolls…’

‘And sprites,’ Ishifa put in. ‘See the lights darting about between the fires? They’re probably using them as messengers.’

‘And those are some damn big wolves,’ Michael added. There were several of them about, each the size of a small pony, with black fur and red eyes. Some were patrolling with the trolls, some lying about the camp.

‘Vargs,’ Twill told him. ‘Fae beasts. They used to roam wild in Norway and Sweden at some points in your history. It’s good that our wolf friends have gone, they loathe each other.’

‘We’ll never manage to sneak in there past that lot,’ the werewolf commented.

‘So what do we do?’ Ophelia asked. ‘Head back to the palace and report the camp?’

‘We need more,’ Ceri replied. She sighed. ‘Stonehenge all over again.’

‘No,’ Lily hissed. ‘I am not sitting back and letting you do that again.’

‘Neither am I,’ Michael stated flatly.

‘Do what?’ Ophelia asked.

Ceri did not look around, her eyes staying on the traffic around the camp. ‘When Remus came to Britain to try to summon the demon-wolf Fenrir to Earth, he ended up setting up a camp near Stonehenge. We needed to know how to stop him and we couldn’t get close, so if I hadn’t done something we would have ended up having to attack him, uninformed and outnumbered, at the ritual. So I walked into his camp and gave myself up. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t kill me so it wasn’t a total gamble.’

‘Yeah, well, this lot will probably slit your throat.’

‘Not until they’ve found out where you lot are.’

‘So you get tortured to find out,’ Lily said. ‘Again. Are you starting to enjoy it?’

‘No,’ Ceri replied, sounding a little affronted. ‘The difference this time is that I’ve learned a few new tricks. I’ll be fine. Trust me.’

~~~

Ceri was pushed into the large tent on the end of a mountain troll’s thick arm. A Sidhe dressed in the black leather armour the Discord troops seemed to favour followed immediately after her, speaking as he entered.

‘Lord, we have a prisoner. The sorceress you sought.’ The man sounded pleased, sure that his leader would reward him for being the one bringing Ceri to him, even though she had actually handed herself over to a squad of ice trolls on the camp’s edge.

From the shadowed interior of the tent a hollow, but resonant, male voice sounded. ‘And her companions, Leoric? Where are they?’

Leoric’s voice lost its confident quality. ‘The hags remain unable to determine…’

‘So you come with one of six and expect me to be pleased?’

Leoric snapped to attention. ‘No, Lord. I’ll have our scrying efforts redoubled.’

‘They won’t be far. Send out varg hunting parties. I want them found.’ Leoric’s heels snapped together and he turned, marching out of the tent far faster than he had entered. ‘Guard, wait outside,’ the voice said, and Ceri’s neck was released. She actually felt the footsteps as the creature turned and left. ‘Please, have a seat, Ceridwyn Brent.’

The interior of this tent was significantly more opulent than the yurt the hags had occupied. It was made of thick, black fabric and held up on two poles a good six inches thick and ten feet in height. There were wooden tables with carefully tooled legs, and several chairs, all of them cushioned and medieval in design. Ceri settled into one of them and crossed her legs, arranging her skirts. She had brought the silly dress Twill had got for her for the wedding because it took up very little space and weight, and somehow she had felt it might be useful. Since she was trying to make an impression, she had worn it to walk into the camp and used a spell to keep herself warm. She was also wearing her crown since she was pretty sure that, even here, no one else could hold it without harm, but her staff she had left behind.

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Might I see who I’m dealing with?’

A figure walked out of the shadow, tall and imposing, dressed in long, black robes with the discord sigil embroidered in a line down the front edges. But Ceri was still unable to see who she was talking to. The man wore a mask, a huge, horned helmet made of black metal. There was a ridge of sorts over the nose which gave it some shape, and there were rectangular holes for the eyes, but there was too much shadow to make out anything behind them. At his hip was a sword hung only from a cord and made from the same sort of black metal as the mask.

‘I prefer to remain anonymous. You may call me Tiarna mac Eris.’

‘Eris the goddess of discord? You’re mixing your mythologies.’ He laughed, a hollow sound; she suspected that the helmet altered his voice. ‘Will “Mack” do?’ She gave him a smile while her mind worked through a spell.

‘As you wish. My name matters not at this time.’ He moved forward, pulling a chair around so that he could sit facing her, legs crossed confidently. ‘I assume there is little point in my asking you to reveal the location of your friends? I’m loathe to use unpleasant measures to find the information…’

‘There’s no point, no.’

‘Huh. Have you ever been raped by a troll, Lady Brent?’

‘No. Several human mercenaries and an angel, but never a troll. I’d imagine it hurts.’

‘You don’t appear particularly concerned?’

Ceri smiled again as the thoughts in the surface of his mind flickered through her own. The weird thing was that his main thought was that he was attracted to her. That did not mean he would not tie her up in a tent with a couple of horny trolls however. ‘I… I walked into your camp knowing I’d be captured and that you would try to extract that information from me. I’m also confident in my friends’ ability to hide from your people. My boyfriend is a werewolf, he’s exceptionally good at keeping himself out of sight.’

‘Vargs are exceptionally good at tracking by scent.’

‘Four of them are practitioners, scent won’t be an issue. Here’s the deal.’ He was quite controlled, she needed to try to get him to think what she wanted. ‘We need the Sidhe you sent to murder Joshia Darksun. You hand him over, we take him to Oberon, clear Ophelia’s name, and no one has to know how we found him.’ “Mack” was either very controlled, or he actually did not know who the killer was. He knew about the murder, certainly, but no name and no face were coming into his mind. ‘I really don’t care about your political machinations, but I won’t let an innocent woman be killed.’ She turned to a different spell, trying to dig deeper.

The hollow laugh sounded again. ‘Here’s my deal. In less than a month, we will be ready to move on Oberon, Titania, and the rest of those simpering fools at the Summer Palace. I will take the throne, but I can’t rule without a queen. Forget about the Silvershield woman and rule with me. A union of this world and the Demon Realm would be powerful enough to take Earth too. You’ll be the queen of it all.’

Whoever this was, he simply did not know who it was who had killed Joshia. It had been some assassin in the Discord movement, and “Mack” had simply ordered that it should be done. ‘So that’s your plan?’ She widened her eyes, disbelieving, as she dug for the answer to the only other thing she could think of to look for. ‘You’re going to depose the current rulers, take control of Otherworld, and take me as your bride?’

‘Simple in conception, but obviously far from simple in execution,’ he replied smoothly.

‘Yeah, well, I’m not really concerned with the governance of this world. I’m not actually associated with the court here, or the government in Britain. I’d imagine that both would have something to say about your plans, but that’s not my problem. However, I already have a mate, and a pet demon, I really don’t need a husband, consort, or anything else on top of that.’

She felt like she could almost see him smiling through the iron mask. ‘What makes you think you have a choice? Guard!’ The tent flap opened and the troll entered swiftly for such a big creature. ‘Take her somewhere and do whatever you need to to get her friends’ location. Don’t kill her.’

The troll stepped forward, reaching for Ceri, and the sudden shock of what she had found in Mack’s mind left her almost too stunned to respond. She pushed forward, out of the chair, rolling on her shoulder and regaining her feet before the troll or Mack could respond. ‘I’m sorry, but I really can’t accept your most generous offer,’ she said. Her power swelled around her and she vanished.

~~~

She was getting much better at handling the disorientation of teleporting. There was no dizziness, no stumbling; she just appeared on the rock ledge where the others were waiting and turned to face them, a deep frown on her face. Now that she was thinking about it, it made a kind of sense. He had given up his right to the throne because he had no queen…

‘We need to go,’ she said. ‘Now!’

‘Did you find out who did it?’ Ophelia asked eagerly.

‘No. Some nameless assassin sent out by someone in the hierarchy at their leader’s orders. But we have bigger problems and we need to get back to the palace and tell Oberon what I did find.’

The Sidhe sagged. ‘Uh, what did you find?’

‘They’re going to come out of here in about a month and attack the palace. They want to take control of Otherworld. Oh, and he wants me to be his queen. Can’t rule without a queen.’

‘I assume you declined his offer?’ Michael asked.

‘Of course I did, but he claimed I wasn’t being given a choice and, to be honest, if he took his mask off and asked I might just have had trouble saying no.’

‘High Sidhe?’ Ophelia asked. ‘Wait… no queen? He needs a queen to rule and he’s High Sidhe?’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘It can’t be…’

‘It is. I pulled his identity out of his mind.’

‘Who are you talking about?’ Lily asked.

‘You should now, love,’ Ceri told her, grabbing her pack. She would change clothes later, when they were well away from the camp. ‘You were the one who made sure he needed a new queen.’

Lily’s eyes widened. ‘Finvarra?!’

‘Yup. Let’s get moving before the damn vargs find us.’

Ophelia started off toward the higher ground around the valley before Michael could take the lead. ‘Oh fuck,’ she was muttering. ‘We’re so fucked.’

Interlude

Pimlico, London, September 29th, 2010

Twill settled her wings against the headboard of the little bed and spread her legs. Midia crawled between them, a wolfish grin on her tiny face, and Twill let out a moan as the sprite’s tongue began lapping hungrily. Midia’s husband, Anolar, watched from a chair in the corner of the room, a satisfied smile on his face. He had had his turn at their fairy guest already, but Twill was fairly sure he would be wanting to go again before she left.

It was a rarity for Twill to leave High Towers. She would hunt in the garden, and occasionally slip over the fence, but she did not often go further than the flower beds a hundred yards from the fence. Once in a while she did, and over the last couple of years she had made a few contacts out in the city. Midia and Anolar were two of them. They lived across the river in Pimlico, in the attic of a house. Their home had been cobbled together out of bits of scrap wood, discarded carpet fragments and wallpaper, and the humans living below them had no clue they were there.

Twill started panting. Sprites were horny little buggers, and they just loved playing with fairies when they could get their hands on one. Twill did not mind, especially today. She had had to get out of the house today. Ceri had come into her power, Lily was losing herself to her demon side, and right at the moment the two of them were fucking each other silly practically every minute of the day. The atmosphere in the house was so torrid that Twill had decided to come get some herself, and hope Ceri could somehow break away from Lily enough to take control of the situation.

She felt the tension beginning in her abdominal muscles. Her wings fluttered against the headboard and her fingers twisted into Midia’s long, red hair. And then there was the sudden rush of pleasure welling up and washing all thought away with it.

When the fairy opened her eyes again, Anolar was sitting at the foot of his bed beside his wife. His erection suggested he wanted Twill again, and she had no objection, but… ‘Give me a minute, Ano. You two will give me a heart attack if you keep this up. What’s the gossip?’

Midia giggled, her arm snaking around her husband’s waist, long fingers wrapping around his shaft so she could tease him. ‘There are rumours that Ophelia has a new beau,’ she said as Anolar lay back with a groan. ‘People are giving him two weeks before she gets bored and either dumps him or offs him.’

‘Sounds about right,’ Twill replied.

‘Oh, there have been a few noises about some great power that’s suddenly appeared. No one seems to know what it is, but some of the older fae and the vampires are all up in arms about it. Some people are saying that the sorcerers are coming back.’

‘Huh,’ Twill said. She crawled down the bed, leaning over Anolar’s hips. ‘Sorcerers are legendary, probably demon-bound mages. The humans will be gunning whoever it is down before the month is out. I doubt they were really some sort of super-magicians.’ She bent forward and Anolar let out an almost pained moan as her lips made contact with his most sensitive skin.

‘Maybe,’ Midia replied. ‘Maybe not.’

Twill did not answer, her mouth was full.

Mayfair, October 11th

The Dubh Linn was definitely not somewhere Twill went to on any kind of regular basis, but she had a reason to, so there she was. Ceri and Lily had gone out to the university so neither would notice she was gone.

There were not too many people who knew about the fairy door. It was a pipe which led from the roof of the building, opening out again right beside the bar, which was useful because some of the patrons of the place had been known to eat sprites and fairies. Sean, the darkly attractive Unseelie Sidhe bartender, had actually been known to eat a fairy himself, though his version of eating involved a lot of tongue from what Twill had heard. Well, it took all sorts.

‘Sean,’ Twill said as she settled onto the end of the bar.

‘Twill, isn’t it?’ he replied, his Irish accent giving his voice a sexy lilt. ‘You wanting a drink, girl?’ He grinned. ‘Or can I show you a trick I learned with a pencil eraser?’

Flickers of pink light danced around the fairy. ‘Your reputation is keeping me from saying yes. I’m hunting gossip, but I’ll take a glass of mead.’

Sean produce a small glass from a cabinet under the bar and poured a measure of mead into it. The thick, golden liquid smelled wonderful. Twill opened the small bag she was carrying and produced a five pound note from it, unfolding the sheet of paper which was bigger than she was and placing it down on the counter.

‘What kind of gossip, little lady?’ the bartender asked as he put the glass down and took the note.

‘I heard tell last month of some big, powerful magician that had suddenly appeared in town, maybe a sorcerer. I was wondering whether anyone knew anything about it.’

The voice that answered was not Sean’s and it came from just behind Twill’s shoulder. ‘There is a sorceress abroad. Yes. My sister and I have known of her for twenty-four years. She’s been well hidden, but now she’s come into her power.’

Twill gave a quick glance over her shoulder and then stared straight ahead, lifting her glass and sinking half the contents. ‘Thank you, Lady.’ Even now, a second after looking, she had no idea what the woman looked like. The Lady of the Black Pool, sister to the Lady of Llyn Tegid, according to rumour, exiled from the Unseelie Court for reasons unknown seven hundred years ago. ‘I have a rumour of my own.’

‘And what is that?’

‘I’ve heard that Gloriandel Wintergreen is in London and knows this sorceress. She’s said that she’ll return to her family if anything should happen to the sorceress and her friends, and whoever has harmed them will suffer for it.’

‘That is a most interesting titbit, young lady,’ the soft voice said. ‘I’ll see to it that other ears hear it.’

‘Thank you, Lady,’ Twill said again, but she could feel the presence behind her was gone. Sinking the rest of her mead, she stood, pushed her change into her bag, and lifted into the air. ‘Thanks for the drink, Sean.’

‘Any time, sweetheart. Oh, and if you do want to see that pencil trick, y’know where t’ find me.’

Twill fled before he could embarrass her further.

Part Four: Morrigan’s Daughters

Summer Palace, Otherworld, February 15th, 2013

They had been put back in the same suite in the tower they had occupied before and Oberon, King of the Fae, was currently wearing a path in the carpet in more or less the same place as Ophelia had done when they had last been there. His queen was looking a little anxious too, but she was doing it while seated on the loveseat beside Lily. Ceri was watching them, rather than Oberon, because that was a political incident waiting to happen and the King was just overreacting to the problem.

Or maybe he was not. ‘Five thousand? We could raise perhaps three quickly. More if we have time, but he’s sure to move early if he knows you made it back here. I’ve sent out scouts to watch for movement at the Glenn, but… How has he managed to raise such a force without us knowing?!’

Ophelia cleared her throat. ‘If you’ll pardon me, Highness, but this has been coming for sixty years.’

Oberon stopped and turned toward her. Titania was the one who spoke, however. ‘How so?’ Ophelia swallowed, looking nervous. ‘Come, Lady Ophelia, speak freely. We’ve need of wise heads and you’re already on trial for murder, things can hardly get worse for you speaking your mind.’ She gave a quirky grin to show she was trying to joke, but her anxiety shone through anyway.

‘We’ve had four hundred years of resentment over the defeat of the Unseelie Court at your hands,’ Ophelia said. ‘I’m not saying you’re bad rulers, but you’re Seelie and there are plenty of Unseelie who see you as usurpers, tyrants even. Then the doorways to Earth opened wide again and the Unseelie took Ireland and Scandinavia. They’ve been building strength and confidence ever since, and now they apparently have a leader.’

‘He worked fast,’ Ceri said, ‘but he couldn’t have done all this since we freed him. He must have found this Discord movement already in existence and used it.’

‘But he was Seelie?’ Titania said, her voice low, almost whining.

‘Seelie and Unseelie are more viewpoints than anything else though,’ Lily said. ‘People with one or the other mind set gravitate toward others like themselves and you have the division non-fae think of as almost different species. Finvarra was driven insane by Oona. He spent centuries in a cell in her dungeon being thrown the odd woman once in a while. It was a spell, a curse, but who knows what the long term effects on his mind could be.’

‘The… man who taught me sorcery,’ Ceri said, her voice a little hesitant at the mention of Ed Perry, an ex-dragon she had said she would kill if she saw him again, ‘he told me that if you spend a lot of time transformed into a different form, you start to think like that form. He was a dragon, but he claimed that the more time he spent as a human, the more he thought like one, and I’ve noticed that I think more like a werewolf as I spend time as one. Oona turned her husband from a philandering man into a monster and he spent a lot of time in that form.’

‘It doesn’t really make much difference, does it?’ Michael said. ‘Whatever caused him to become what he is, we have to deal with that. How are you going to stop a five thousand man army of Sidhe and trolls if you don’t have a big enough army yourself?’

‘I have no idea,’ Oberon replied. ‘The best I can do is to begin raising a larger force and hope we have the time to do it.’

‘Yes,’ Ceri agreed, ‘but I think we need a backup plan. We need some help. Tell me, how would I go about contacting the Morrigna?’

‘You don’t if you’re sane,’ Oberon replied.

‘Well, she… they appeared in a dream and said they would help if I chose to let them. I don’t think we have a whole lot of choice.’

‘There’s a shrine of sorts,’ Titania said, ‘south of the mountains, about two days travel.’

‘I know it,’ Ophelia said. ‘It’s at Chiocha na Teer Abail Riu.’

‘That’s it. It’s probably your best shot at reaching them.’

Ceri sighed. ‘We’ll start in the morning. I want a good night’s sleep before we go.’

‘At least we got to have a bath,’ Lily added.

Royal Pass, February 16th

By mid-morning, having started off before the sun was up, they had reached the top of the pass which crossed the mountains to the south. Ophelia had called it the Royal Pass, and it was certainly quite broad and kind of regal. It even had a packed gravel road laid into the broken ground to flatten it out and make it easier for carriages. Up at the peak there were no walls on either side, which was making them all feel safer. There was even a small lake on the eastern side of the road which was kind of beautiful in a bleak sort of way.

There was also a guard post beside the lake; a stone tower had been built there, two storeys with a portcullis over the gate nearest the road. Oberon had told them that there was a contingent of six guards housed there at all times, all of them loyal to the court, which meant he currently did not trust them. There was no way Discord could be stopped from discovering that the King was raising an army, far too many people knew what was happening, but the plan to contact the Morrigna was another matter and keeping that secret was a high priority. So they were going to sneak past the guard tower.

Luckily enough the relatively flat ground around the pass up here made it easy to take a wide path west of the tower and there were boulders and the odd bush to provide cover. Michael was in charge of the sneaking. He had more experience in that kind of thing than anyone, though Ophelia turned out to be pretty good at it for someone who was supposedly an honest diplomat.

‘There must have been a glacier through here at some point,’ Ceri commented as they stopped in the shadow of a boulder taller than they were. ‘My geology is only school-level, but I think this is classic glacial topology.’

‘Does she ever stop being a scientist?’ Ophelia asked, grinning.

‘During sex,’ Lily replied. ‘Mostly.’

‘Hey!’ Ceri squeaked, trying to keep her voice down. Sound probably carried a long way up here. ‘I’m inquisitive.’

‘Well,’ Michael said, ‘why don’t we be inquisitive over in that clump of bushes?’ He indicated a low, scrubby patch about a hundred yards further on.

Ceri raised an eyebrow. ‘You call those bushes? They’re more like brambles with pretentions.’

‘It’s the best cover we have.’

Grimacing, Ceri started forward, keeping low to the ground and wishing she could afford the power budget to make them all invisible long enough to get past the tower. The “bushes” were actually low-growing climbers draped over some rocks. They looked like they might have fruit on them later in the year, but for now they gave just enough cover to be useful.

‘Seriously,’ Ophelia muttered as she dropped into the slight depression in the rock, ‘this is not how I trained to spend my time.’

‘You trained?’ Lily asked. ‘I thought you just… kind of…’

‘Fell into it? No, I had talent the Silvershields recognised, but I was apprenticed to one of the seniors for a century before they let me loose on my own.’

‘That seems kind of modern,’ Ceri commented.

‘This place may work on Iron Age technology,’ Ophelia said in a rather defensive tone, ‘but that’s because the vast majority of fae don’t like technology. We’ve had a highly civilised society for thousands of years, and it’s been more politically stable that human society for most of that.’

‘That,’ Lily said, ‘and apprenticeships back home go back to medieval times at least. What’s that? Like a thousand years?’

‘See?’ Ceri said, grinning, ‘there’s stuff I don’t know.’ She always felt rather proud when Lily knew things she did not.

‘Yeah, history,’ Ophelia pointed out. ‘What’s the charge on an electron?’

‘Minus one point six-oh-two times ten to the minus nineteen Coulombs,’ Ceri replied without thinking.

‘I rest my case.’

‘Rest your butt over past that boulder there,’ Michael said, ‘before I give it a swift kick to get it moving.’

~~~

Twill and Ishifa were waiting down the pass when the larger people who could not become invisible naturally climbed down the low wall at the side of the road.

‘You weren’t spotted,’ Twill told them, ‘but you were right to sneak past.’

‘We found the bodies of the real guards hidden in the cellar,’ Ishifa added.

‘Not long dead,’ Twill continued. ‘I’d say sometime last night, though I’m no forensic pathologist.  It would appear that the entire squad has been replaced by Discord operatives.’

‘They’d only do that if they need to control the pass,’ Michael commented. ‘How often do the guards change?’

Ophelia shrugged. ‘Once a week, maybe.’

‘So they’ve got it for six days, tops. Probably less. They’re making their move ahead of schedule, and they’re sending some of their forces through here.’

Ceri nodded, agreeing with his assessment. ‘We need to get moving. We can’t even assume we have a day.’

‘Okay,’ Ophelia said, ‘there might be a way to speed things up. Wait while I check something…’ She closed her eyes and began to slowly turn on the spot muttering something in a language which sounded like Low Fae, but was not. Ceri figured it was High Fae; it made sense that they would use it for magic. After about ten seconds there was a word which was definitely not High Fae. ‘Damn!’ Then she went on with her chant, frowning more deeply. ‘Got it! It’s just under ten miles away. Down the pass, then east three or four miles. There’s a ley line there that goes on to the temple. It’s a pretty big one, we could be there in… seconds.’

Ceri nodded. ‘It’ll cut a day off our travel time. All right, let’s do it.’

~~~

Michael held up his hand, fist clenched, and Ceri and Lily came to an immediate stop, instantly alert. Ophelia looked confused, but her hand went to her dagger and she looked around, searching for any sign of danger. However, the “danger” was just Ishifa flying back from a quick scouting mission. Not dangerous, but the speed she was moving at suggested that she had found something they needed to be warned about.

‘There’s an encampment beside the road at the bottom of the pass,’ the fairy said. ‘I can’t be sure, but I think they’re Discord troops. They seemed to be all Sidhe.’

‘Any of the vargs?’ Michael asked.

‘Not that I saw.’

‘Okay. If we take it slowly and carefully we should be able to slip past them.’

‘Which side of the road?’ Ophelia asked.

‘West, but there’s not a lot of cover. It’s not going to be easy.’

‘We need a distraction then,’ Ceri suggested.

‘That would be useful,’ Michael agreed. ‘I could sneak in and…’

‘Oh no, I’m the fool who walks into camps to get captured. I think we can arrange something a little distracting for them without getting too close.’

‘You’re going to do something nasty to them, aren’t you?’ Ophelia asked, smirking.

‘You enjoy that far too much.’

The camp was quite close to the road and, from what they could see, looked like a rather large merchant encampment. There were wagons and tents, and people milling about. No sign of trolls or huge wolves, but…

‘Merchants wouldn’t be camped up at this time of day,’ Ophelia said. ‘They must have been there for a couple of hours at least. With wagons they could have been over the pass and down into the palace.’

‘Not merchants then,’ Ceri said. ‘In which case…’ She raised a hand, focussing her will, and a foggy shape appeared beside them, quickly resolving into a huge, black bear. ‘It’s just an illusion, but it’ll give them something to worry about for a while.’ She looked up at the bear. ‘Run into the camp, make a lot of noise, rip up the tents, attack anyone you see. Go.’ The phantom bear rumbled deep in its throat and then set off down the slope at increasing pace.

‘That seemed like a pretty realistic illusion,’ Michael commented.

‘It’s solid to the touch, gives off a smell, makes noise, and I don’t need to control it, but it’s still just thaumic energy. Literally a magic trick.’

The bear gave out a loud bellow and smashed into the first tent it came across. There was a scream from someone inside it, and suddenly various people were producing spears and swords and rushing about with far more energy than they had been.

‘Let’s move,’ Michael said, and they hurried down the pass, sticking close to the eastern edge. The bear was roaring at the top of its lungs and demolishing tents and people with gay abandon. Ceri was rather pleased with it, but there was no way it could last. Sooner or later the illusion would collapse and they needed to be out of sight by then. A last bellow sounded as they ducked into the cover of the cliffs on the eastern side of the pass, then nothing but the shouting.

‘The bear’s gone,’ Ceri said. ‘Ishifa, could you hang back to check they aren’t sending out search parties?’

‘Of course, Ceri,’ the fairy replied, letting go of Michael’s shoulder and vanishing as she rose into the air.

‘I’ll stay with her,’ Twill said, performing the same manoeuvre. She seemed to have got quite attached to her maid, but having both of them watching was probably better.

‘Give it fifteen minutes, and then come after us,’ Ceri added, hoping they heard her.

The bigger people carried on, moving as quickly as the uneven ground would allow. They had got almost two miles away before the two fairies appeared above Michael’s shoulders and dropped down to land.

‘We were starting to get worried,’ the werewolf said to his passengers.

‘They did send out some searchers,’ Twill replied.

‘So we watched the ones coming this way to see how far they got,’ Ishifa went on.

‘They gave up about a mile back,’ Twill went on, ‘but they were suspicious. It’s possible that they will communicate what happened to Finvarra, if they can.’

‘But they don’t know who we are or where we were going?’ Ophelia said.

‘By now,’ Ceri said, ‘they’ll know we’ve left the palace. They may guess it was us, but they can’t know where we’re going, no. It’s possible they could guess…’

‘Another mile or so and we’ll be at the ley line,’ the Sidhe said. ‘Then it’ll be a matter of minutes to the temple.’

‘You call it a temple,’ Lily commented, ‘Titania described it as a shrine.’

‘She’s probably never seen it. There’s not much worship of the Morrigna these days. We haven’t had a war in four hundred years. The “shrine” is a low building set between two domed hills, the Chiocha na Teer Abail Riu, which is the “Breasts of the Morrigan.” However, there’s a far bigger structure under the shrine that was used by the worshippers for ceremonies. Most people paying lip service to the trinity just visit the shrine on top.’

‘Is there any chance of a hostile reception there?’ Michael asked.

‘I wouldn’t say there was no chance? We don’t know that Finvarra isn’t trying to do the same thing we are. Back when he was king they considered the patronage of the Morrigna pretty important to being a ruler, especially Morrigan herself.’

‘Great,’ Michael noted.

~~~

Travelling through a ley line was always a rush, just not a particularly pleasant one. There was no way to breathe, and the world seemed to rush past in a blur and then snap into place around you. You felt as though you were about to crash into your destination, and then you ended up breathless and dizzy.

Unless you were used to teleporting anyway; Ceri stepped out of the tunnel, caught herself from trying to fall over, and immediately started looking around. Ishifa swept up quickly to get a view from higher up, and Lily did a quick shoulder roll to recover her footing and drew her sai. The others stood around shaking their heads.

‘I hate doing that,’ Twill commented, her voice wavering a little.

Ceri grinned; she knew the feeling, but she was busy checking her surroundings. They were, indeed, standing in the valley between two hills, but where hills called “The Breasts of” or “The Paps of” back on earth tended to be rounded hills or mountains which vaguely resembled a woman’s breasts, these ones looked as though some giant had lain down and had a shrine put down in her cleavage. The hills even had something of an overhang on the northern side; the girl had pert boobs.

The shrine was basically a spire of dark rock, very gothic with lots of carefully carved ridges and spikes on each of its six edges. From this angle Ceri was guessing a little, but she could see a carved stone face set within the nearest side and she suspected there were two more spaced evenly around the thing. The other faces seemed to be blank stone, and there seemed to be no entrance which could be used to get underground.

Ophelia straightened up from where she had been leaning over with her hands on her knees. ‘I hate that too. This way.’ She started off to the left, toward one of the hills. Twenty yards away, hidden behind some bushes, was a stone staircase which just dropped into the earth. ‘This is it. There’s a door about ten feet down. The temple is behind that. Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here recently.’

‘Plus one for our team,’ Ceri commented, starting down the steps.

As soon as she was below ground level she summoned up a light. Darkness had not fallen yet, but the sun was low in the sky and there was little light in the stone-lined slit. The rock had not been finished well and there was no mortar between the stones, but there was also no space. They had clearly been cut by a master craftsman, with extreme precision, to look like they had been roughly hewn. The door at the bottom, when she got to it, was a huge slab of rock which looked like it weighed a couple of tons.

‘I think I’ll need some help opening this.’

‘No, just push,’ Ophelia told her.

Ceri pushed and the door swung open as though it was as light as a feather. ‘Wow. There has to be some sort of counterweight system in there. For people who hate technology you’ve got some pretty clever technology.’

‘They were building stuff like this four thousand years ago on Earth. Egypt?’

‘Oh. Point, I guess.’ Ceri walked in down a short corridor which led into a circular chamber with three doors leading off it. ‘Which way?’

‘Well, the ceremonial chamber is straight ahead. I think the other doors lead to rooms the priests used to use, maybe storage rooms too. I came here once when I was twenty and it was out of use then.’

‘Okay.’ Ceri nodded. ‘You’re with me. Michael, Ishifa, check the left. Lily, Twill, take the right. Yell really loud if you find anything.’ As they split up, Ceri walked back to the main door and pushed it closed. ‘I don’t suppose we can lock this?’

Ophelia shook her head. ‘I doubt it anyway. It was a public building, essentially.’

Ceri nodded, lifting the foot of her staff to rest against the stone. A flicker of thought and the door was sealed. ‘That should hold it. Let’s take a look at this ceremonial room.’

Behind the door, which opened as easily as the main one had, was a circular chamber perhaps thirty feet in diameter. The walls were decorated with carved Celtic Crosses opposite the door. To the right as they walked in were three statues of tall, beautiful women dressed in armour. A stone table on the left still had three goblets on it, obviously not valuable. There were also large, iron candle stands set around a central stone circle. The circle was slightly raised, and had a few symbols cut into the rock around it, but it was not magical, as such, just ceremonial. On the other hand it would be a good place to conduct a ritual if she needed to do one.

She turned to look at the statues. They were all a little different, but there was a resemblance. Maybe that was just due to the artist’s preference in female face though. ‘Which one’s which?’

‘Huh? Oh… no idea. They were sisters, or metaphysical sisters. I never learned which statue was supposed to be which goddess, and the line-up changed depending on who you were talking to, like I said.’

‘Why did you come here?’

‘My father brought me here. We were travelling and he said he knew this great place. All scary and dark, y’know? I was a kid, I thought it was great.’ Ceri turned to give her a grin. ‘He used to do stuff like that. Take me on business trips, let me watch while he was negotiating deals. Always had interesting places to stop off and show me.’

‘He sounds like a great dad.’

‘He was. Then he got his throat slit over some stupid deal he’d made with the wrong person. I was fifty.’

‘Sorry.’

‘You lost both your parents, and I had fifty years with my father. You had it much worse. It should be me that’s saying “sorry.”’

Ceri gave her a weak smile. ‘That’s okay.’

‘Looks like private quarters for the priest,’ Michael said, walking into the room. ‘It’s dry and fairly warm, not a bad place to hole up for the night.’

‘And the other side looks like store rooms,’ Lily added. ‘There’s not much left.’

‘Some candles,’ Twill said. ‘A box of old robes which were rotted.’

‘Candles would be good,’ Ophelia said. ‘I’ll go get them. Better than keeping a spell going.’

‘Okay, then we need to try to figure out how to get those three to listen,’ Ceri suggested, looking at the statues.

‘Have you tried talking to them?’ Twill replied.

‘Uh…’ Well, it was worth a try. Ceri stepped forward and closed her eyes, focussing her energies within her core. Behind her, Lily let out a soft moan as Ceri’s draco-form physical fibres energised and stimulated the rune tattooed over her pet’s pubic mound. Ceri opened her eyes again; she could almost feel them glowing. How to start… ‘You came to me, in a dream. You said you could help if I chose it. Well, I don’t really have a choice now, so I’m choosing to let you help. I’m asking you to help… Help us. Please.’

There was silence in the room, not even breathing, as they waited for an answer from the three statues. The room seemed to darken, as though the light was being drawn away, and the shadows on the stone face shifted. There almost seemed to be a voice calling out somewhere in the distance…

‘Hey! I said, “could someone give me a hand here”?’ Ceri sagged and they all turned to look at Ophelia as she struggled in through the door with three large boxes balanced one atop the other. The Sidhe blinked at the circle of scowling faces. ‘What?!’

~~~

The priest, or whatever form of religious official had presided over the temple, had had three rooms, including a fairly simple bathroom. All the furniture had been stripped and there was no water, but being underground it was insulated from the cold night above. They had set up their bedrolls in the largest of the three rooms, the middle one, and it looked like it was going to be a comfortable night.

‘Do you think Finvarra has moved on the palace yet?’ Ophelia asked, her voice low. Somehow speaking at normal volume seemed wrong here. Everyone was using hushed tones, as though someone, or something, might hear them.

‘Yes,’ Ceri replied. ‘Or he’s moving at least. You can’t shift five thousand men as fast as we went, but I think he began preparing them to leave as soon as I teleported out of the camp.’

‘I would, in his position,’ Michael commented.

‘So, how do we contact the Morrigna?’ Ceri asked, though it was more of a muse than a question.

‘Well, you didn’t,’ Ophelia replied. ‘I mean, people would leave offerings and some would even prey before a battle, but you didn’t expect her to listen. When she wanted to, she would come to you.’

‘So we’re wasting our time?’ Lily asked.

Ophelia shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Making the effort seems like a good idea.’ She looked over at where the two fairies lay tucked into some folded blankets.

‘I agree,’ Twill said. ‘Making an effort seems appropriate. They came to Ceri’s dreams and said she should call on them, so that implies that she has to call on them somehow. Perhaps we should sleep on it. Perhaps, here in their temple, they will come again.’

Ceri nodded, it seemed logical, if logic could be applied to the actions of something like a god.

‘Should we stand watch?’ Michael asked.

‘I sealed the door,’ Ceri replied, ‘and I put an alarm spell on the outer door of these chambers. If anyone breaches this place I’ll be woken.’ She lay down and pulled her blanket up. ‘Let’s see what the morning brings.’

~~~

She was floating, soaring, high above the plains at the foot of the Oighear Slaevte Tsale. Below her an army was moving and she was exultant. There had been little in the way of battle in four centuries, only minor skirmishes and foolish raids to keep her entertained.

And this was an army! A huge mass of men, trolls, hags, even vargs, marching east toward the Summer Palace. The Seelie had always been over-confident, but centuries of never having to fight for their sovereignty had left them complacent. This army would teach them the error of their ways.

Wheeling about, the world blurred below her and the walls of the palace appeared in view. Another army gathered outside those walls, far smaller than the one moving to assault it. When dawn came, these two forces would meet and Oberon’s true metal would be tested. She doubted he had it in him to win, but he was not giving up, that was something. With the forces he had, however, she expected to see his head decorating a pole at the city gate before evening. Likely a better fate than Titania would have. Finvarra’s madness was a vicious one and the Queen, even if she took the field of battle, would feel the worst of it. The woman would wish for death long before it came.

The ground blurred again and she was flying over the hills which bore her name. The mad king had received a report from his forces guarding the southern side of the Royal Pass and had known what was being done. The force he had dispatched to the temple was not large, but it would be sufficient to test those waiting for it…

‘Are you ready to decide, Ceridwyn?’

Ceri turned, confused, and saw only shadow and the tall figure in it.

‘The time for your choice is coming on swift hooves. There will be a price. There is always a price. Are you willing to pay it?’

‘What price?’

‘You must give up your self.’

Ceri frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘There must be three. Be ready.’

Morrigan’s Temple, February 17th

She was being shaken and, for a second, she did not know where she was, and why was someone calling for “Ceri,” and who was Ceri anyway… Oh, yeah, that’s me. Her vision swam into focus and she saw Michael and Lily looking down at her.

‘Ceri? Are you okay?’ Michael looked concerned.

‘Nightmares?’ Lily looked more worried. ‘You haven’t had nightmares in…’

‘It wasn’t a nightmare,’ Ceri said. Her voice sounded rough, she sat up and suddenly found one of the water bottles being pushed into her hands. Over Michael’s shoulder, Twill looked worried too. ‘Not exactly. I was… I guess I was Morrigan. I was flying over the armies. They’ll meet at dawn. Finvarra is already marching on the palace, like I said he would. He figured out we’re here. There’s a squad or so of his soldiers coming here for us.’

‘A squad?’ Michael said. ‘We can take a squad. We’ve got a highly defensible position here. They’ll be choked on the stairs. You blow them to shit and we mop up the survivors.’ He shook his head. ‘He’s not that stupid.’

The sound of something heavy slamming into stone resounded through the temple. ‘They’re here,’ Ceri whispered. Without really thinking about it she shifted her perceptions, freeing herself from her body and moving quickly out through the wall and the packed earth around the temple, and then up to the surface. There were soldiers everywhere, Sidhe mostly, but she could see a couple of trolls and a varg. Walking over to the stairs, she looked down. A troll which was barely able to fit in the staircase was using a huge hammer like a battering ram as it tried to break through the stone door. The surface was already chipped. She snapped back to her body. ‘There must be a hundred of them up there. They’ve got a troll trying to smash the door down. The spell’s holding, but they’ll break through eventually.’

‘Shit!’ Ophelia sounded panicked. ‘What do we do?’

‘Ceri can teleport us out,’ Lily replied calmly. ‘They think they have us trapped. We can get out easily.’

‘But then Finvarra wins,’ Ceri said.

‘What then? We can’t fight them.’

‘We can’t, no…’ You have to give up your self. ‘The Morrigna can, but there’s a price.’ There must be three. ‘They’ll come, but… I think they need vessels.’ She looked up at Lily and then Ophelia. ‘Three vessels for a triple goddess, and it would have to be willingly.’

Ophelia looked back at her, obviously scared. ‘He’ll win otherwise, won’t he?’ Ceri nodded a reply. ‘All right. It’s my world he’s going to turn into Hell, but you two, you don’t have to do this.’

‘We let him out of his cage,’ Lily said. ‘I feel a certain responsibility, even if I didn’t have much choice at the time.’

‘Let’s get some clothes on before we have to fight our way to the ritual chamber,’ Ceri said.

~~~

The candles were lit in the stands and Ceri was dressed in her “witch-seductress” outfit which felt somehow appropriate. She doubted she was going to be doing any fighting, as such. Looking impressive was the order of the day. Goblets were set around the circle on the floor, each filled with water, which was supposed to be a conduit for spirits but Ceri was basically making this up as she went along.

‘Are you sure about this?’ Michael asked, keeping his voice quiet; Ophelia was freaked enough as it was.

‘No. I don’t see that we have much choice. You think we should run?’

‘I’ve never backed out of a fight where I had a tactical advantage. You don’t know what this will do to you.’

Ceri looked into his eyes. ‘Just… Just be there for us when it’s over.’ She gave him a weak grin. ‘And get into fur.’

Ishifa flew in from the hallway, red light flickering around her. ‘There’s a big crack in the door. We’ve got… seconds maybe.’

‘Okay, you’re with Twill. Stay out of sight.’ She stepped into the circle, facing outward, her toes almost touching one of the goblets, and tried to put as much confidence as she could into her voice. ‘Let’s do this, ladies!’

Lily and Ophelia took their places beside the other goblets. Reaching back, they found each other’s hands. Ceri glanced at Michael, already a big, grey-furred wolf-man, and saw the worry in his amber eyes. Her fingers squeezed the hands she was holding and she looked up, focussing her power, drawing it in and then forcing it out from her own core to Lily and Ophelia. She heard a gasp from both of them and spoke. ‘We call upon the Morrigna in this time of need. Come to us, we are your willing vessels. Come to us and feel the thrill of battle once again. Come to us…’

The light in the room seemed to sink away, the candlelight dimming to pin-pricks. There was something there with them, something huge and old, and terrible. It surrounded them and entered them, and the world receded away until it was nothing but a distant memory…

~~~

Ceri let out a sharp cry and the candles flared brilliantly. In the goblets the water boiled and spilled out onto the floor. Then the three women straightened their backs and Michael could see their eyes. Ceri’s shone blue with almost no pupil and the irises larger than normal. Lily’s pupils burned red, but there was no sign of the auras she normally projected. Ophelia’s black eyes were darker, deeper; bottomless pits into eternity.

There was a loud crash from outside the chamber; the door had gone. Ceri raised her head and laughed, and then looked to Ophelia. The black-haired Sidhe moved forward smoothly as the door to the chamber was slammed open and a troll with a huge war-hammer stepped through… And stopped in his tracks. Ophelia just stood there, looking up at the huge creature, and then raised her arms. The troll turned and bolted, and there were screams as Sidhe doing their best to run from the temple themselves were crushed by their compatriot in his haste to escape the woman with the black eyes. Ophelia followed them, walking, a slight smile on her face as she routed the troops.

Ceri turned her head to her right. ‘Macha, assist our sister.’

Lily nodded, drawing her sai. She looked down at the weapons, shrugged, and ran out into hallway. Soon there were more screams. These ones ended suddenly, often in gurgling sounds.

Twill and Ishifa flew forward from the shelter of the crosses at the back of the room. ‘Ceri?’ Twill said, and Ceri turned her burning blue eyes on the fairy.

‘Anann, known as the Morrigan. Ceridwyn is… within me. She has much compassion for you, Lady Gloriandel. She would see you safe and I have use for you. Tell Oberon that we come.’ She raised her hand.

‘Wait…’ Twill began, but Anann flicked her wrist, Ceri’s wrist, and the two fairies vanished.

Anann turned to Michael. ‘Ceridwyn has much love for you too, warrior, but she knows you would never leave her at a time like this. You will be my champion.’ Her hand rose again, and Michael felt her power filling him. He raised his head and howled as wild, untamed, raw power filled his muscles. ‘Now, we go.’ Michael charged out ahead of her, almost lost in the feeling of animal rage.

There were beheaded Sidhe littering the entrance hall, blood pooled everywhere. Somehow Lily, or Macha, was cutting men’s heads off with weapons which had no edge, but then again she was an embodied goddess, she could probably do as she wished. Michael rushed on, up the stairs and into the open air; the open air which tasted better than he had ever felt. His senses were heightened, he felt as though he could see, and hear, and smell everything, but what he wanted now was to taste blood and if he did not hurry Macha would have beaten him to all the Discord soldiers.

The Morrigan walked up the stairs behind him, revelling in the thrill of the men dying in combat around her. Her staff flicked out as she got to the top of the stairs, lifting a rock from the ground and driving it through the skull of a man thirty yards away. She laughed, and turned to see another of the Sidhe, suspended off the ground by Badb, her third sister. She was holding him by the throat, without apparent effort, as he struggled and fought. Her hand clenched and the struggling stopped. Macha was wading through Finvarra’s soldiers like some sort of natural disaster, and now her wolfen champion was busy sinking fang and claw into flesh.

A scream brought Anann’s attention to a Sidhe running at her, almost crazed with fear, brandishing a sword. She smiled warmly at him and her staff rose to meet his swing. ‘Good,’ she told him. She blocked another swing, deflected a stabbing thrust at her chest, teased him as he hacked at her uselessly. ‘Your tenacity is worthy of reward.’ She was not even working hard to keep him off her. ‘I give you the honour of a good death.’ The staff flicked out and his sword flew skyward. His eyes widened just before Anann’s staff swung around and smashed the side of his head in.

Anann lifted her head and let out an exultant howl of her own. This was going to be a good day!

~~~

‘Wait…’ There was the lurching dizziness of teleportation and the world changed around them. ‘Well damn that bitch to Hell and back!’

‘Lady Gloriandel?!’ Twill turned in the air to find Oberon and Titania behind her. Anann had transported them directly to the royal chambers, it seemed. A half-naked Oberon was strapping on armour, but Twill was far too angry to take in the view.

‘It’s Twill,’ Twill snapped. ‘Gloriandel Wintergreen is a name which has brought me nothing but trouble. I was happy as Twill.’ She took in the surprised faces; royalty was likely not used to having an angry fairy tirade directed at them. ‘My apologies, but I’d rather be called Twill. Really.’

Titania nodded. ‘I believe I understand your displeasure. Your parents have presented us with a petition for leniency for you on the grounds that they still wish you to marry Briarin Darksun.’

‘That little snot,’ Twill spat. ‘I’d rather have my wings clipped off.’

‘If we survive the next few hours,’ Oberon said, ‘I believe I have a solution to your situation which you will find accommodating. Frankly, however, I doubt any of us will be alive to worry about it.’

‘Ah, well, that’s why we’re here.’ The fairy settled onto the back of a nearby chair, Ishifa settling beside her looking uncomfortable about being around half-dressed royalty. ‘Ceri made contact with the Morrigna. Fight and they’ll fight with you.’

Titania’s eyes narrowed. ‘And you were sent to give us the news, but what of your companions?’

‘Michael I’m not sure about, but he’s a warrior, I’d imagine Anann would like him with her. The others… the goddesses needed bodies to walk around in. They had some of Finvarra’s men to deal with at the temple, then I’d imagine they’ll be coming here.’

Reaching out and picking up a heavy, studded leather jerkin, Oberon said, ‘Then I’d better get out there and put on a show for them. The gods help those who help themselves.’

~~~

Oberon’s army had the slight advantage of higher ground. Finvarra’s forces had marched up from the west, and slightly south, of the palace and so were coming up from the plains. The advantage in numbers was clearly with the Discord army, however. At Twill’s estimation Oberon had just less than half as many troops. Finvarra seemed to have sent off quite a chunk of his forces on other business, likely a sweep around to come at the back of the palace down the Royal Pass, and to capture his intended queen at Morrigan’s Temple. There were still over four thousand men moving in against no more than two thousand.

Standing up on the battlements of the city wall, Twill could see why Oberon had chosen to go out to meet Finvarra. The walls were impressive, but poorly planned for defence. She recalled Ceri saying something about it at some point while they sat around the fire, and now she could see what she had meant. The towers along the walls did not effectively cover the ground between them and had significant blind spots, and if the walls were breached the invading forces would have free run of the streets.

The few guards left with the queen had looked a little askance when Titania had insisted on standing on one of the western towers with two common fairies, but her expression had been one which suggested she could manage quite well after beheading two or three guards with the long, very silver, very enchanted sword she had slung at her hip.

‘I should be down there,’ Titania said, angry worry in her voice. ‘I fought alongside him when we defeated Sreng. I’m not helpless.’

‘Your husband wanted you safe, if he wins,’ Twill replied. ‘And if he doesn’t you’ll get to fight. We all will.’

Titania gave the fairy a weak smile. ‘You’ve courage and will far beyond your size, Mistress Twill.’

The fairy shrugged. ‘I was bred to it, though I think my parents might have wished for a less pig-headed daughter. Ishifa here is the courageous one.’ Ishifa looked around, surprised.

‘No,’ Titania replied, ‘don’t sell yourself short, if you’ll pardon the pun. But you have the right of it there too. You’re a maid, are you not, Ishifa?’ The fairy maid nodded dumbly, still a bit awed to be standing with a queen. ‘And of common parents, farmers I’m told, and yet you stand up to defend the honour of a noble lady accused of murder, and you stand beside your mistress in battle against assassins and trolls. Is that not courage?’

Ishifa looked up at the fairy queen with her halo of blonde hair and let out a squeak, then cleared her throat and tried again. ‘My father always told me that you have to fight for what you think is right, Highness.’

‘Your father is a wise man.’ Her gaze shifted back to the battlefield and her face grew serious. ‘It’s beginning.’

Twill looked down and saw what she meant. Among the front ranks of Finvarra’s army there was a lot of movement. Something was happening, that was certain, but she could not make out what it was until the first column seemed to rip away from the main body of the army and resolve into a hundred or more vargs. Arrows arced out from the palace side, raining down on the charging beasts, but they seemed to have no effect at all, and a few seconds later a wall of trolls began to advance. Below them, a shiver ran through the army at the sight advancing rapidly on them.

The huge wolves were halfway across the open space between the armies when Ishifa yelled, ‘What’s that?!’ They looked to where she was pointing, toward the foothills of the mountains in time for what she had seen to become obvious. It was as though a huge grey wave with flecks of black in it, was charging down from the hills. ‘The wolves,’ Ishifa said. ‘The wolves have come to help.’

The tidal wave of wolves charged down, largely unnoticed by the two armies until they rolled into the side of the charging vargs. The eastern edge twisted around, down the line of battle, and then turned to meet the bigger animals head on. The vargs were far bigger, meaner, and more of them were fae in nature, but the wolves had them on numbers. Still, it was going to be a hard fight and the trolls were coming up from the rear.

‘Oberon,’ Titania said into the air, knowing her husband would hear her, ‘help them.’

A horn sounded below and there were shouts which were not quite decipherable. Troops who had looked shaky a moment earlier charged forward, swords and spear-points glinting in the early sunlight as they rushed in to fight alongside the wild animals who had come to do battle for them.

‘Finvarra will commit now too,’ Titania murmured. ‘If we’re going to get help, we’ll need it soon.’

Twill looked upward and saw the black birds circling high in the air above them. ‘It’s coming,’ she said.

~~~

Oberon charged forward, barely having to lean down to slice his sword down into the neck of a varg. He risked a quick look around, checking the flow of the battle. The vargs had been hoping for shock to do half their work for them as they ran at the defending troops and the arrival of the wolves had turned that shock against them. It was not going all their way, but most of the giant wolves were down and the trolls who had been marching forward with determination had faltered. A lone wolf, even a small pack, was no match for a troll, but this looked like every healthy wolf in the mountains had come down to help Oberon, and the hoped-for loss of morale had turned to new determination.

It was time to press the advantage. ‘Onward!’ Oberon yelled and charged toward the trolls, sheathing his sword and pulling a spear from a mount on his saddle. The other mounted Sidhe heard their king’s rallying cry and followed suit. The trolls stumbled to a halt as a wave of cavalry, backed up by wolves, started toward them.

As he buried his spear in a troll’s chest, Oberon looked up and saw the remainder of Finvarra’s army charging forward across the lush grass. Now it was going to get really bad.

~~~

Twill felt Titania tense beside her. The queen’s fist gipped the hilt of her sword like it was holding her to the stone of the tower.

‘Here they come,’ Titania said, her voice a hushed whisper. ‘Be strong, my love.’

‘Look,’ Twill said, almost in reply. She was pointing upward at the black birds circling over the battle. They were turning faster now and there seemed to be far more of them. As they watched, the cloud of black swept downward, twisting and wheeling in a tightening circle, and then driving down toward the earth between the two armies as three columns of black. The whirlwinds seemed to slam into the ground and then collapse in on themselves, and a hush descended, spreading out across the soldiers and the trolls left standing.

Standing in the field, their backs to Oberon’s army, were three women standing about a hundred yards apart. A werewolf crouched on the ground beside the middle of the three and he raised his head and howled, soon joined by the wolves behind him.

The Morrigna had arrived.

~~~

A lone rider came forward from the ranks of Finvarra’s army, clad in black and wearing the horned helmet. He halted twenty yards from the figure of Ceridwyn Brent, possibly because of the quite audible growl which emanated from the wolf-man beside her.

‘Lady Ceridwyn Brent,’ Finvarra called out, his voice hollowed by the mask, ‘you are a powerful sorceress and a clever woman, but you stand between two armies. You cannot stop this. Please allow me to have you escorted from the field to safety. I’d not have my queen harmed.’

Anann let out a bark of a laugh and Finvarra’s horse shied backward a step before he could pull it under control. ‘I’ve no intention of stopping anything, Finvarra mac Manannan, and I’m certainly not leaving this field.’

The dark helmet turned left and right, taking in Lily and Ophelia, and then moving back to Ceri. ‘Morrigan. You side with the fool behind you?’ His voice held anger. ‘I bring you battle. I bring you war. I am the one who will take the realm of Earth again in your name.’

‘In my name?’ Anann replied. ‘Neither of you have thought of us in long years. We should let you tear each other apart and then feast upon the entrails of the victor. But a human sorceress, a half-demon, and a fae disgraced by your treachery have given themselves to see the tide of this battle turned, and Oberon at least shows bravery instead of hiding behind a mask and skulking in shadows.’

Oberon drew up beside her, opposite Michael, his sword resting across his saddle. ‘I thank you for the compliment, Lady.’

She did not look at him. ‘Not that you have a choice. These women show more spirit than either of you. No, Finvarra, I will not be stopping this battle. This ends here. Oberon rules and if he shows he has the right to then I consider your challenge an affront to my judgement four hundred years ago. If he shows it…’

The King was not stupid enough not to know what that meant. ‘I most certainly will, Lady,’ he growled and spurred his horse forward.

Anann reached down and laid her hand on Michael’s shoulder. ‘Go now, my champion.’ Sweeping around behind her, Michael ran at full speed down the defenders’ line toward Ophelia.

Finvarra drew his black-bladed weapon and it clashed with Oberon’s sword, a twin of Titania’s. The sound of metal ringing on metal seemed to energise the two lines of troops and they began to charge forward. None would interfere with the fight between the two kings, but they would not stand by and watch either. As they moved, so did Badb and Macha. Badb, Ophelia, marched forward as Michael reached her, raising her arms as she went. Ahead of her the right flank of Finvarra’s army faltered in their charge as fear washed over them like a wave. And behind that wave was another; Michael leading the contingent of wolves, fell upon the scared soldiers with tooth and claw.

On the left flank there was also an element of faltering, but it was more to do with confusion. What looked like a relatively small, if lithe and attractive, auburn-haired woman was charging toward hundreds of armed men carrying only with a pair of sai. Worse, she had a predatory smile on her face and a wild look in her glowing, red eyes. She reached the front ranks a good twenty yards ahead of the first of Oberon’s soldiers, and the screams could be heard on the palace walls.

~~~

The sounds of battle echoed up from below, but Titania’s eyes were only for the scene of single combat in the middle of it all. Oberon and Finvarra were wheeling about each other, trading blows like mad men.

As she watched, Anann walked calmly between them, apparently unconcerned by the clashing weapons and the horses’ hooves, to face the oncoming army. She raised her staff, sweeping it left to right in a wide arc, and two trolls and a dozen man were thrown bodily into the air to crash into the body of the left flank a hundred yards away. The attacking force split, flowing around her, and the fight between the kings, apparently taking the hint, and Anann returned her attention to the horsemen.

She was just in time to see Oberon take a glancing blow across his back which sent him off his horse. Suddenly Finvarra had the advantage.

Titania turned on her heel. ‘Someone get me my horse!’ she roared, starting for the stairs down. Twill glanced at Ishifa and then took off, heading for Titania’s shoulder. Ishifa let out a squeak and followed suit.

One of the braver guards attempted to stop his queen. ‘Majesty, the King said that…’

‘I am not some simpering maid who sits around sewing while my husband fights for his life. Get me my horse!’

She seemed oblivious to the two fairies now clinging to her robes. ‘She’ll be safe,’ Twill said. ‘We’ll see to that.’

The soldier appeared to decide that he was not going to win this one. He bolted down the stairs ahead of the queen as she marched forward, her stride determined.

~~~

Michael’s claws ripped out the throat of a Sidhe warrior and he ran onward, heading inward as the wolves and soldiers behind him rolled onward. Around them, the battle-fear Badb carried around her like a cloak turned skilled, hardened men to cowards and the fight was badly one-sided. Still, the thrill of open battle was coursing through Michael like the longest adrenaline rush ever and he wondered whether he would ever come down from it.

Across the field, Macha was laying waste to anyone foolish enough to come within range of her weapons. Warriors were running from her, right into the wall of troops following in her wake, only to be cut down anyway. The woman danced through the carnage, a lethal, lithe figure clad in some scraps of leather which barely covered her, leaving headless bodies in her wake. She screamed and laughed through it all wearing a brilliant smile and an expression of sublime insanity.

The only calm spot on the field was around Anann. Anyone who came too near died. Some were thrown off into the distance, some simply fell to the ground and stopped breathing, others were burned, blasted, even vaporised. One troll, apparently too stupid or too brave to know better, walked up behind her and raised his club to attack her. She blocked his blow as though it were done by a child and then crushed his skull like an egg.

Oberon dodged under one of Finvarra’s swings and ducked under his horse, an entirely insane move guaranteed to get him kicked in the head, but he pulled it off and his sword slashed through his opponent’s saddle girth as he rolled through. As Finvarra yanked his horse’s head around he let out a loud cry and went over backwards onto the grass, his helmet coming free and bouncing away from him. The saddle fell on his legs and he kicked his way out from under it, scrabbling backward as Oberon yanked the horse clear and started toward him.

‘You’re a fool, Finvarra,’ Oberon said, stepping forward. His opponent was scrabbling to gain purchase, dragging his left leg. ‘The Seelie would never accept you as king like this.’

Finvarra rolled onto his hands and knees, crawling away now. ‘The Unseelie accepted you for four hundred years.’ He rolled back, his left arm flicking out suddenly and Oberon stopped, staggering backward. Looking down he saw the knife sticking out of his stomach, just below the navel.

~~~

Titania rode through the battle flanked by two other horsemen, a white-clad fairy queen astride a white horse. Her silver sword swung periodically as she swept past an enemy warrior, but no one got to swing back at her. On her shoulders, two fairies clung to her robes, their telekinesis magic sweeping out ahead of her and batting aside swords, spears, and anything else which came her way.

The centre of the field came into view and Titania let out a scream as she saw Oberon staggering backwards and then falling. Even from here Twill could see the dagger hilt sticking out of the king’s stomach. Titania spurred her horse forward, screaming at the top of her lungs, and both fairies could see what she was planning, they lifted off her shoulders as the distance closed, each of them blurring into a blue-white ball of light as they flew alongside the horse, easily able to keep up.

The white queen moved as she came closer, springing up onto the saddle and then leaping up and forward. Twill and Ishifa swung around her as she flew through the air, their magic balancing her as she fell, and she floated almost delicately to the ground between the two men. Angry red light flickered around Twill and Ishifa as they took up positions to her sides, but Twill glanced around at Anann. The goddess nodded; she would not intervene.

‘Titania!’ It was Oberon speaking. None of the women looked around. ‘Leave him to me. Get to safety.’

‘Do as your husband says, Lady,’ Finvarra suggested, putting as much sarcasm into the last word as he could. ‘I’ll gut you like a fish and then murder him.’

‘Really?’ Titania replied. ‘Try me.’

Finvarra moved, his left arm swinging around from behind his back. Another knife flew through the air toward the queen’s chest, its thrower charging forward after it. The blade came to a sudden stop two feet from Titania and twisted around, and Finvarra ran straight onto it as he raised his sword. It barely pierced through his clothing, but he gasped in shock, not expecting it, and Titania moved. Her blade scored across Finvarra’s chest, opening the fabric and leather beneath, and leaving a deep cut in its wake. Blood welled and the man staggered backward, swinging up wildly. Titania pressed forward, her sword swinging up and then down. Finvarra’s sword rose, trying to fend off what he saw coming, but the shock still showed in his eyes and he came nowhere close. Titania’s sword sank into the joint of his neck and shoulder and he fell to his knees before crumpling face down in the grass.

‘He still lives,’ Anann said, ‘and the honour is yours, Queen Titania.’ The way she put such an emphasis on the title was oddly reassuring, but it also suggested that something was expected of her.

Titania glanced at her husband and he nodded to her. Reversing her sword, she gripped the hilt in both hands and drove it down through Finvarra’s back. The body jerked once and then lay still, and blood began to run through the grass beneath him.

‘It is done,’ Anann said, smiling, and then she turned and walked into the fighting around her. And the men of the Discord army fell dead in her wake.

~~~

The odd scream still echoed across the battlefield an hour later when Titania, Twill, and Ishifa rode back alone. They had made sure Oberon was being treated and was comfortable in his chambers, and then gone out again, insisting that the guards stay with the King to be sure that no Discord assassin could get to him.

They dismounted where Finvarra had been killed. His body still lay there in a pool of his own blood. Out in the field three figures wandered. Oberon’s army had withdrawn thirty minutes earlier, but the Morrigna were still walking between the bodies, making sure that they were just bodies. If there was a single Discord warrior left alive, it was by means of a miracle.

‘Enough!’ Titania shouted. ‘Please, enough! You’ve done enough.’ The three figures turned at the sound of her voice, and then began walking toward her.

Anann and Badb were unmarked, not a scratch on their bodies, and while their boots had blood on them from the grass even their clothes were clean. Macha was another matter. She was covered, head to foot, in blood, though there were no obvious marks on her skin, Lily’s skin, so perhaps it all belonged to other people. Her long hair was matted into a stringy ponytail, and a far brighter red than it was normally. Blood dripped from her sai.

‘You’ve done enough,’ Titania said again, her voice lowered to normal. ‘You can give them back.’

‘We could stay,’ Anann replied. ‘We have thousands of years of wisdom we could pass on. These men were not the last of them. Their movement continues in the human world. We could stay and bring you victory over them all.’

‘No!’ Twill flew up, practically flying into Anann’s face. ‘These are people and you’ve taken their lives away from them. You’ve done as Ceri asked and you’ve had your fun. Give them back their bodies.’ Looking a little like she thought she was doing something intensely stupid, Ishifa flew up to hover at Twill’s shoulder, backing her up.

‘Please ladies,’ Titania said. ‘These are brave women. They deserve their reward for it.’

Anann looked mildly shocked at being stood up to by someone no bigger than her hand. She stepped back. ‘As you wish,’ she said, and then all three women collapsed.

Interlude

Kennington, London, October 23rd, 2012

Something felt wrong. Twill was not sure exactly what it was, but it felt as though someone had invaded her territory. She could sense nothing specific, and she could find no one in the house or on the grounds, and the wards should have prevented anyone from breaking in anyway… But still she felt eyes on her as she moved through the rooms.

There were other things. Cheryl had gone missing, and Ceri and Lily had gone out earlier in the day to investigate. It was getting close to midnight and neither had returned. Ceri had been changing too. It had been barely noticeable at first, but she had been getting worse recently. She constantly referred to Lily as “pet” and she had bought a collar for the girl. In a way it was just giving in to Lily’s wishes, but Twill had always felt Ceri thought that that was going too far. It was almost as if someone was twisting her, changing her.

Coming to a decision, she went up to her attic and packed her little bag with some money. Something dark was happening and there was only one place in London where a fairy could get information on dark things in relative safety.

Mayfair, October 24th

‘Mistress Twill,’ Sean said in greeting as she settled onto the bar, ‘it’s always a pleasure, if a rare one, to have you in here.’ He reached under the bar, producing a small glass, and poured a measure of mead into it, but when she reached for her bag he shook his head. ‘It’s a pleasure to see you, but not a surprise. She’s been waitin’ for you, and that’s on the house.’

She… Twill did not look, but she felt the presence taking shape at her side. ‘Lady,’ she said, her voice soft.

‘Your suspicions are correct… Twill,’ the dark voice said to her. The slight hesitation before her name made Twill’s heart skip. ‘Ceridwyn Brent is being influenced, her mind bent to a purpose.’

‘Whose purpose?’

‘It is a very ancient purpose, attempted once before and thought beyond hope. One of Ceridwyn’s ancestors allowed himself to be destroyed in order to stop it, thinking that they could never again forge the form they needed to make it work.’

Twill gasped. ‘Brenin… The Dragons? But…’

‘There is little time.’

Someone seemed to have clamped a fist around Twill’s heart. She gulped down mead and took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. ‘I’ll need someone to take me over,’ she said, her voice cracking on the last word. ‘There’s something I need to do, then I have to go.’

‘Sean will contact Ophelia Silvershield,’ the Lady said. ‘Her House has been handling the negotiations. She will help you. Meet her on Kennington Park Road outside the park gate opposite the tube station in… two hours?’

Twill nodded. ‘Thank you, Lady.’ She lifted from the bar and flew toward the pipe up to ground level.

Sean was frowning. ‘You mean, that’s Gloriandel Wintergreen?’ But the Lady was gone and he got no answer.

Part Five: Hieros Gamos

Summer Palace, Otherworld, February 20th, 2013

Ceri’s eyes cracked open slightly and she rapidly jammed them shut again. ‘Light,’ she moaned. ‘Light bright… make it go away.’ There was hurried movement as someone moved quickly to close the curtains, but the light still looked bright through her eyelids and she stayed as she was, trying to work out where she was. The room smelled of lavender. Twill liked to use lavender to help people relax. She was not at home; the bed felt wrong and there was no Lily in it. The last thing she remembered was… was…

She sat bolt upright only to have someone press her gently but firmly back down. It seemed like a good idea. Her head swam and her vision blurred, but when that cleared she found herself looking at a woman with long, blonde hair, dressed in a dark blue dress and a rough, white pinafore. Titania looked absolutely stunning, as always, but she had never looked less royal.

‘We were starting to worry about you,’ Titania said, her voice soft and relieved. ‘Ophelia and Lily awoke yesterday, but you seemed determined to stay asleep. They don’t remember anything after they were possessed, do you?’

‘Remember…?’ Ceri frowned. It was almost as if she was remembering something someone else had done, but she remembered. She had walked through ranks of men, seeing those who were to live and those who were to die. She had flown high above the world and known the flow of battle intuitively and completely. She had judged those fighting and decided who deserved the victory, and she had destroyed those who deserved to lose. There had been no mercy, no remorse, and she remembered it all, but what she remembered most of all was… ‘No. No I don’t remember anything really. I take it you won?’

‘Yes,’ Titania replied, not sounding convinced. ‘We won the battle. A lot of people died, though most of them were on Finvarra’s side.’ She turned, starting for the door. ‘I’ll tell the others you’re awake. There are a number of people who will want to see you.’

‘Thank you,’ Ceri said, watching her leave. She had been put in one of the upstairs rooms in the suite which seemed to be theirs for the time being. At a guess it was to let her rest without too much disturbance. Which had probably worked fine, and it lasted for about another minute before the door burst open and she was surrounded by people, all of them talking over each other in a bid to ask how she was. Lily immediately cuddled up to her left side, Michael sat at her right, and Twill and Ishifa flitted around over her chest, flickers of light dancing around them and both speaking too fast to be understood. Only Ophelia held back, standing at the foot of the bed, not quite feeling part of the family.

‘I’m fine,’ Ceri said after allowing them to chatter on for a while. ‘I feel a bit like I’ve been through a war, but I’ve felt worse.’

‘Technically,’ Ophelia said, ‘a war is a collection of battles and we only did the one.’

‘But we did get kind of bloody,’ Lily said. ‘We don’t remember any of it, but apparently they had to soak the blood out of my hair. I was coated in it. You don’t remember either?’

‘No, nothing.’ She felt Lily stiffen slightly beside her. Her bound demon could sense the disquiet, knew she was lying.

‘That’s probably a good thing, right?’ Lily said.

Ceri nodded. ‘I think it’s a very good thing.’

~~~

Oberon and Titania, both of them dressed in more formal wear than the nursing outfit she had worn earlier, came up to visit Ceri and the others late in the afternoon. The King’s wounds had been healed and he was every bit the regal fae lord once again. Ceri smiled as the couple entered, sitting up straighter in bed, which made the sheet slip off her chest. She felt her cheeks colouring a little, but she did not pull it back up. She noticed Oberon’s eyes dip as he approached the bed, which just make her straighten her back a little more to push her breasts forward.

‘I see that you’ve recovered fully from your ordeal on our behalf,’ Oberon said, smiling.

‘I’m a little stiff,’ Ceri replied, ‘but I think that’ll pass when this lot allow me out of bed so I can move around.’

Lily, still sat at Ceri’s left, dipped her head to Ceri’s ear and whispered, ‘With that display, I think he’s feeling a little stiff himself.’ Ceri elbowed her in the ribs.

Oberon’s face straightened. ‘I would like to talk to all of you before we do the formal business tomorrow. I don’t want any surprises in the audience chamber.’

Ceri nodded. Sat in a chair at the side of the bed, Ophelia sighed. ‘In that case,’ Ceri said, ‘I’m getting up and we’ll go down to the lounge. There’s informal and there’s downright slovenly, and this is the latter.’

They all trooped out, even Lily and Michael, so that Ceri could get dressed. She slipped out from under the sheets and walked over to the wardrobe at one side of the room. It appeared that all her available clothing had been laundered while she was unconscious, and there was also a new, brilliant white robe which looked very regal and fae. Ceri ran the soft, luxuriant, silky fabric through her fingers. This was a dress for a fine lady, perhaps a queen. She was about the same height as Titania, Ceri suspected the queen had brought one of her own gowns through for Ceri to wear. It was far too nice…

The royal couple were sitting beside each other in the love seat when Ceri slinked into the room wearing her tabard-dress. She had put a little dark make-up over her eyes and reddened her lips, and she was not going to admit that it was partially to hide the fact that she had looked paler than usual in the bedroom mirror. Both Oberon and Titania sat up straighter as she walked in to take a seat opposite them. She crossed her legs, arranged her skirts, and tried to avoid smirking as Oberon shifted in his seat.

‘I’ve got rather fond of this dress,’ Ceri commented, smiling toward Twill who was sat beside Ishifa on Michael’s lap.

‘I’d noticed,’ Twill replied, grinning back.

‘Now then,’ Oberon said, clearly keen to get off the subject of Ceri’s lack-of-dress. ‘We have a considerable problem. You are all responsible for keeping us on the throne, for which we are both very grateful. However, Ophelia is still accused of murder and the law is quite clear. Without the real culprit to present before the court we will be required to pass judgement. On all of you.’

‘I’m not going to say our own legal system is that much better,’ Ceri said, ‘but that seems overly strict.’

‘It’s served us well for longer than we have ruled,’ Titania replied. ‘To make exceptions in your case would be…’

‘Unfair, yes.’

‘That doesn’t mean we can’t twist things to make them a little fairer,’ Titania said. ‘I’m afraid that Ophelia is not going to fair well from this, but even she will come out of it better than she could have, considering Finvarra’s duplicity.’

‘All right,’ Ceri said. ‘What are you planning?’

February 21st

You could tell that the courtiers had gathered expecting blood. The only difference between them and sharks was that sharks circled and the people of the Seelie Court sat in comfort, awaiting the arrival of their King and Queen.

The soon-to-be-condemned stood before the two thrones, also waiting. They had dressed up. Lily was wearing the leather outfit she had been wearing when Macha had taken her body and used it to slaughter men like reaping crops. Almost all the blood had been washed out of the leather. Ceri was in her new favourite dress, her eyelids darkened, her lips reddened, and her staff held in her hand. No one had tried to take the staff, or Lily’s sai which were tucked into the waistband of her skirt. If the courtiers had been paying attention, they might have recognised that as a sign.

‘All rise,’ the major-domo intoned, and Oberon and Titania entered from the back of the chamber. They were in their full High Fae glamour, resplendent, beautiful. Ceri swallowed hard at the sight of them and suppressed the urge to put on a flirting expression for them. The sensation of arousal coming over her link with Lily was not helping. Oberon remained standing while Titania took her throne, which had the effect of keeping all the courtiers standing. This time Ceri suppressed a smirk.

‘Lords, Ladies,’ Oberon began, ‘Ophelia Silvershield’s Advocates stand before us ready to signal their success or failure in the matter of Joshia Darksun’s murder.’ He looked down toward Ceri. ‘What have you to say?’

‘Highness,’ Ceri replied, ‘we have determined that Joshia was killed as part of a plot by Finvarra and his Discord movement. They needed to stop any greater ties between Seelie and Unseelie before their attack and so needed to stop the wedding when Gloriandel Wintergreen returned to her family. Unfortunately the murder was performed by one or more unnamed assassins. They are likely dead, or in the wind. We cannot present them to you here and must concede our case lost.’

There was a rumble of noise from the courtiers. The sound coming from the area where the Wintergreens and Darksuns were sitting had a distinctly satisfied ring to it. If it were not for the fact that Ceri knew what was coming she would have been very angry with them.

Oberon nodded. ‘Before our statement of judgement is made, does anyone wish to speak for any of the accused?’

Thoranil Wintergreen rose up from his seat and moved forward a few feet. ‘Highness, as the aggrieved parties, the Wintergreens and Darksuns ask for mercy in this matter. It is likely that another committed the murder, though full proof cannot be determined. We would not wish to see the full penalty of the law applied.’ A nice move; the families appeared merciful and the next request would seem more reasonable. ‘Further, we ask that our daughter, Gloriandel, be placed into our custody. We believe house arrest is sufficient punishment for her ill-advised efforts.’

‘Noted,’ Oberon said. It was a rather dismissive remark and Thoranil drifted back to his place with a few flashes of red floating around him. ‘The law is clear,’ the King went on, ‘and despite our personal wishes, we must wield the sword of justice equally whether it be applied to friend or foe, or hero. Ophelia of House Silvershield and all her Advocates are hereby exiled from Otherworld for one hundred years.’

The sprites and fairies exploded into uproar. Aderiel looked as though she was about to have a heart attack. The rest of the courtiers appeared displeased, but Ceri suspected that was more because they were going to miss out on a nice beheading.

‘Silence!’ Oberon roared and Ceri’s fists clenched at the force of the man’s personality sweeping out across the room. When he spoke again, his tone had returned to normal. ‘This judgement will come into effect at the full moon. Now, on to other matters. As a reward for her actions in the recent battle, Ishifa Bushbottom has asked that her family be taken care of during her exile. The Bushbottom family will be given a stipend of one hundred crowns per year for the next hundred years and their farm’s ownership will be handed over to them with immediate effect.’ Thoranil looked as though he were about to have a fit.

‘In furtherance of diplomatic ties with the Demon Realm under its new Overlord, Lady Ayasha, her retinue, and anyone she designates for diplomatic purposes, will have free passage into, through, and out of Otherworld, and all our territories on Earth when on diplomatic missions.’ Oberon bowed to Ceri. ‘Lady Ayasha…’

Ceri returned the bow. ‘Highness. Please let it be known that Lady Ophelia will be acting as our ambassador. I would appoint a demon to the role, but they are a rough people and this court deserves someone with some decorum.’

‘The House of Alberich acknowledges the new ambassador,’ Oberon said, bowing to Ophelia. He was starting to have trouble keeping the smirk off his face. ‘I believe that concludes our business here.’

The room bowed to the royal couple, waited for them to leave, and then exploded into uproar while Lady Ayasha and her entourage marched out of the chamber, trying to keep the smiles off their faces until they were through the door.

~~~

‘So what’s the pay like for the demon ambassador to Otherworld?’ Ophelia asked when they were back in their rooms.

‘Ah well,’ Ceri said, ‘that’s a bit of an issue, I guess. I don’t think I can really pay you anything. I’ve got you free passage home as long as you can think of an excuse, and a good reason to visit your old House, but it’s not going to be much of a source of income.’

Ophelia grimaced. ‘I’m going to have to find a job and I’m basically an unaffiliated fae with diplomatic protection. Don’t get me wrong, it could have been way worse, but this does suck.’

Ceri nodded. ‘Sorry. It’s your legal system.’

‘And you, Ishifa?’ Twill asked as she settled beside her maid on Michael’s lap. ‘Are you going to be okay? You’re going to be a world away from your family. Visits will be far harder than they were.’

Ishifa nodded, a little sadly. ‘I’ve done right by my family. They never could have hoped to have their own land and I’ve won them that, and more than enough wealth to make up for what I was sending home. I’m just not sure what I’m going to do on Earth. I don’t even speak the language. How am I going to live?’

‘Don’t be silly,’ Lily told her. ‘You’ll move into High Towers with us. There’s plenty of room in Twill’s attic for the two of you and I’m sure Twill wouldn’t mind the help.’

‘It would be my honour,’ Twill said taking Ishifa’s hand between hers and giving it a squeeze. We’ll go back to the estates tomorrow. You can pick up anything you need and give your family the news. I’ll get a few things from my rooms which I wished I could take with me when I left the first time. If your family will have me, I’d prefer to stay on your farm until the full moon.’

‘And then I’ll come there and take us all over to the other side,’ Ophelia said as Ishifa nodded dumbly. The fairy looked like she might cry.

‘Ah yes,’ Twill said. ‘You might want to get your farm tidied up a little for that. I believe it’s customary for Oberon and Titania to ensure that their justice is enacted. They’ll want to be sure we leave.

‘The K-king and Queen?’ Ishifa stammered. ‘Visiting my home?!’ Twill nodded, grinning. ‘Oh! Oh my!’ Then she fainted.

February 21st

They could have left from more or less any place in the palace, but they chose to walk out of the south gate and a little way into the pass. There was one person who had not been thanked for their part in defeating Finvarra, and Ceri and Michael wanted to make sure that he was before they left.

‘You’re sure you want to go now?’ Titania asked as they walked. ‘It’s only a couple of days until the full moon and then you could all go back together.’ She looked a little eager and Ceri grinned at her. Apparently it wasn’t often that the two sovereigns got to meet anyone with a similar aura of power.

‘There are some things I need to get done which I’d like out of the way before Twill comes home,’ Ceri replied, ‘and we need to get Michael back to his pack.’

‘You’re sure you can manage the slip okay?’ Ophelia asked.

‘I’m sure. This isn’t my first dimensions hop.’

‘It can be tricky…’

‘Ophelia, we’ll be fine, and here’s our last well-wisher.’ They stopped and looked around as the black wolf padded down from the side of the pass and onto the road. His mate waited at the edge, unwilling to get closer to so many fae, but he seemed quite unconcerned by the guards accompanying them, or the royalty. Ceri dropped to her knees and reached out a hand, and the wolf pushed his cheek against her palm. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Any debt you felt you had is paid in full.’

The wolf bowed its head to her, and she bowed back, and then he turned to Michael to give another formal sort of bow. He growled, soft enough that it was almost inaudible to the others standing a little way back. Safe journey. Good Hunting.

‘Good hunting,’ Ceri and Michael muttered back, and the wolf turned and trotted back into the rocks. Ceri got back to her feet and turned around. ‘Time to get moving,’ she said, smiling at the little group as Lily moved up to stand beside her.

Twill floated forward from Ophelia’s shoulder. ‘We’ll be back on the night of the full moon. You make sure you’re there to meet us.’

Ceri nodded. ‘We will be. Ophelia, you’ll stay the night when you get back?’

‘I think I’d rather not be alone,’ Ophelia replied.

‘That’s settled then.’ She turned to Oberon and Titania, bowing to them with Michael and Lily doing likewise. The head of her staff began to shine as she placed the shaft down between the three of them and her friends took hold of the wood. ‘See you all soon.’ The world twisted around them and seemed to lurch toward the south. Reality stretched, the light in one direction turning red while they rushed toward a blue-tinted world.

The sudden noise of traffic on Kennington Park Road was a shock to the system. Car brakes squealed as drivers saw the sudden arrival of three people on the pavement. A woman let out a scream which died away into an embarrassed cough as she realised that they were just humans, or so she thought.

‘That worked then,’ Ceri said, grinning.

‘Of course it did,’ Lily replied.

‘I’ll head straight over to Battersea,’ Michael said. He let go of the staff and settled his pack on his shoulders. ‘When are you expecting to be back?’

‘Sunday night,’ Ceri told him. ‘Maybe Monday morning. Time is a little weird over there, the days are too long. I’ll be back for the full moon though.’

‘We’ll be back,’ Lily said firmly.

Michael nodded, giving each girl a quick kiss before turning to head down the street. ‘You make sure you stay safe,’ he called over his shoulder.

‘Always do,’ Lily called back before following Ceri through the gate into the park. ‘I am coming with you.’

Ceri’s brow furrowed. ‘Lil…’

‘No, I am. Whatever you’re planning, Lady Ayasha would not be seen without her Lilith beside her.’

‘Lil… when I’m wearing that crown over there…’

‘I’m your abject slave, like pretty much everyone else, yes. I don’t mind. I think I kind of like it now I’m over the shock and it’s not that much different from normal. If you gave me an actual order now I’d have no choice but to obey.’

‘Which is why I don’t give you orders most of the time. Over there… I feel different. Just about everything comes out as an order.’

‘Then you need to learn to control it instead of letting it control you.’

She was right of course. ‘All right, but I need to go over first. I’m going to make a permanent bridge and I can’t do that from this side. It’ll take me thirty or forty minutes to build the power and form the tunnel.’

‘Well, the castle should be safe enough and I can use the time to brief Gwyn and get changed.’

Ceri grinned as they went in through the arbour. ‘You mean get naked.’

‘I won’t be naked, I’ll be in collar and cuffs.’

‘Hmm yes.’ Ceri unlocked the second kitchen door and let them into the house. ‘Totally not naked.’

Since it was mid-morning, Mei was out at work and only Gwyn was home. The tall, regal ex-dragon woman met them in the hall, wrapping Ceri and then Lily in a fierce hug which was most unlike her.

‘I was getting worried,’ she said once she had let them go. ‘Both of us were. You were supposed to be gone a couple of days. You got yourselves involved in something again, didn’t you?’ It was almost accusatory.

‘Yeah,’ Ceri said. ‘Lily will give you the short version while she’s getting organised. We’re going back over to the Demon Realm. There’s some stuff I need to get organised over there. For starters, I seem to have opened diplomatic relations between the new Overlord and the Seelie Court so I’d better make sure the demons know it.’

‘You’ve only just got in!’ Gwyn protested.

‘I want this started. If I’m going to be Overlord of the demons, I want to do it properly.’

Gwyn looked as though she was about to argue, but then she frowned and nodded. ‘That is commendable. You’re taking your duties seriously. I can hardly argue the point given that I would do the same in your position.’

Ceri gave her a bright smile. ‘Thank you. I’ll be back in a bit anyway. I want to set up a bridge between the two worlds and then I’ll come get Lily.’

‘That requires a tremendous amount of power.’

‘Yeah, but over there I’ve got power to waste.’ She took her crown from her bag, dropping the container to the floor before slipping the circlet on, and the head of her staff began to glow as she focussed on the spell which would slip her between dimensions. Ley line hopping to the Demon Realm was impossible, so this was a significantly harder trick, but she had done it before without problem. ‘See you soon,’ she said, and her vision filled with light.

The Castle of Bones, Mount Khed, Demon Realm

The black rock walls of the Castle of Bones slowly resolved out of the darkness as the overhead light runes came to life at the return of their mistress. She was in the vault behind the throne room, a huge room which held the castle’s portal. The vast, dark building seemed pleased to see her again. It was empty. The demons had left it, running from the wrath of the Overlord. It had been alone for centuries and having people within its walls felt good.

‘Well, we’ll see about getting you a permanent staff,’ she said aloud. The lights seemed to brighten a little more. ‘First, I need to get things organised.’

Turning to the circle carved into the wall behind her, she raised her staff and began to draw power in from the world around her. It felt different from the way she normally worked magic. The power she formed through her own body seemed to well upward from the base of her spine. This time it flowed in around her, collecting and condensing from the air. She used her staff to store and contain it as she began to construct the equations that would govern the trans-dimensional tunnel. Ed had taught her this. His objective had been to have her ready to create a bridge to the dragons’ universe, but the methodology worked perfectly for this link.

By the time she was ready her staff was blazing so brightly that she could not look at it. Reaching out to the wall, she pressed her fingers to the rock and let the power flow through her. Her breathing quickened; the rush was amazing. For the minute or so it took to work the spell she understood the almost sexual thrill Lily felt when Ceri drew power from her. A circle of swirling light formed and grew until it was perhaps eight feet in diameter.

Taking her hand away, Ceri smiled and admired her handiwork. She stepped forward and there was a slight tingle on her skin as she passed through, and suddenly she was in the front hall of High Towers looking at Lily and Gwyn. Lily was naked aside from silver cuffs around her wrists and ankles, a silver collar around her neck with six feet of chain attached to it, and her fairy-silver chain strung between lip and ear. Gwyn was wearing a worried expression.

‘Twill’s coming back?’ the dragon-lady asked.

‘Uh-huh, sometime on the twenty-fifth. Great isn’t it?’

‘That means I have less than four days!’

Ceri blinked. ‘Huh?’

‘Dusting, cleaning. All the sheets will have to be washed again.’

‘But… this place is just as clean as it was when she was here.’

‘And you think that’s good enough?! No, no, no.’ She turned, heading for the kitchen. ‘You too get about your business. I’ve got so much work to do.’

Lily grinned at Ceri, suppressing a giggle, picked up a bag she seemed to have repacked while waiting, and held out her chain for Ceri to take. It was entirely unnecessary; they were not going to meet anyone in the castle and leading her slave around by a chain was for show. Except that this was for show. Lily was showing that she was comfortable with how both of them were going to feel once they crossed over. Ceri took the chain and turned to lead the way through the portal.

A quickly stifled giggle accompanied Lily’s emergence into the portal chamber in the castle. The half-succubus kept her eyes down, unable to willingly look up at Ceri’s face. ‘Sorry, Mistress. The tingle in my skin was sort of ticklish.’

‘Same here,’ Ceri replied. She wanted Lily to call her by her name, but they had been through this. With the crown on her head the best she could hope for was “Mistress,” and there was no way Ceri was taking the crown off while she was here. ‘Right, we need to get to somewhere with a window so I can see what time it is. We’ve got travelling to do and I’d like to know whether we’re going to be waking people up when we start.’ She started for the entrance.

‘Is that going to stop you?’

‘Probably not.’

They went out through the corridor which led into the throne room and then out into the huge central stairwell with its twin helical stairs leading down through the building. Technically it was one staircase, the stairs designed for people much taller than a normal human, and one slope. Ceri ignored them both, heading instead all the way around the upper balcony to a door on the other side and the far narrower staircase within. They climbed for five minutes before reaching the watch post near the top of the spire-like tower at the front of the castle.

From there they could look out on the Mountains of Khedra below them, part of them anyway. The black rocks sloped down from here toward the foothills and the plains beyond them. Somewhere out there was the wild mining town of Dorilla in the Khedra Lalgash. Close up was the deep bowl of rock in front of the castle with its flat, mirror-like lake. From here it looked more and more like an impact crater. Long, long ago something had crashed into the planet and left that hole in the side of Mount Khed.

There was no real sun here. Between the world and its star, assuming the laws of physics here were sufficiently similar that the world orbited a star, was some sort of cloud which diffused the light and give it a reddish tint, even at midday. The evenings were very long and from the colour of the sky and the darkness in the east Ceri could tell that this evening had begun. She guessed they had around ten hours until the dawn light began to show again.

‘We’ll start in Shilfaris,’ she said. ‘We have some recruiting to do.’

Shilfaris

Captain Torn was a little perplexed. There had been no word that a new lord had arrived at the Grey Castle. No one had seen anyone arriving through any of the city’s gates. And yet a slave, a Lorril in silver collar, cuffs, and slave chain, had come to the barracks and asked for him by name, and now she was leading him to the audience chamber in the Lord’s Tower. The slave had said her name was Lilith, and that was the name of the Lorril who accompanied the Overlord, Lady Ayasha, but surely if the Overlord had come to Shilfaris they would have been told?

When he arrived in the chamber his perplexity just increased. A tall, jet black woman with silver hair was busy yanking down the curtains the last lord had used to screen his throne from those seeking audience. She was dressed only in a white loincloth and a bandeau top, both of them slightly translucent, and when she turned to look at him and he saw her blue eyes he knew exactly who she was.

‘Sha? You’re Sha, the det who came here for the men the night the last lord died.’

‘Hmm,’ she said, smiling at him, ‘you have a good memory. It’s the eyes, isn’t it? Blue eyes aren’t common among demons.’

‘Yes. No. But… What are you doing? You can’t be here. And pulling down those curtains…’

‘The new lord is going to be sitting in the open, Lord Torn.’

He blinked at her. ‘What?’

‘My name isn’t Sha,’ Ceri told him, ‘and I came to the castle that night to rescue Lilith there. Destroying the lord of this place was just an added bonus.’

‘What?’ He shook his head, realising he was sounding like an idiot. ‘If she is Lilith, then that would mean…’ Torn really was not stupid. He fell to his knees as the illusion around Ceri dissolved revealing her normal form in her tabard dress with the iron crown sitting on her brow. ‘Lady Ayasha, my apologies…’

‘Clearly I selected a form which would make you think I was someone else, Torn. Apologies are redundant.’

‘Of course… Lady, I’m just a Captain…’

‘No, you are the new lord of Shilfaris. In twenty days I will be holding a meeting of all the Lords at the Castle of Bones. You will be there too. For now you’re going to get this place in order. I expect Shilfaris and its surrounding lands to be run fairly and you struck me as both an ambitious man and a fair one when we last met.’ She paused. ‘Of course, if I turn out to be wrong there are plenty of people I can get to hang your head on the walls before I replace you.’

‘I will do my utmost to fulfil your wishes, Lady,’ Torn replied. The hint of fear in his voice suggested he would.

‘I’m quite sure you will. Now I have business elsewhere in the city. Good evening, Torn.’ Picking up her staff from beside the throne, Ceri walked out past the bemused Devos toward the stairs.

~~~

The city’s East Ward was the cheapest part of town. When you saw full demons there, rather than det, common demons, it was because they were very down on their luck, or they were on business, or they were slumming it among the poor. The Devim’s Horns was probably the best inn in the place, but it still managed to look like something out of the Wild West and you rarely saw a demon in the place. It was usually loud, full of people intent on drinking themselves into a stupor before bed, or on feeding the few Lorril who frequented the upper floor giving sex for food.

The taprooms went silent as the grave as the doors swung open and Ceri walked in, followed by Lily doing her best demon pet routine. A second later there was a loud scraping of chairs as every det in the room scrabbled to prostrate themselves.

‘That’s quite enough of that,’ Ceri yelled. ‘Not long ago half of you were coming to my house to be treated for injuries and ailments. Get back to your drinks you misbegotten retches!’ There was an equally loud scraping of chairs as everyone struggled to comply with the overlord’s wishes. Ceri rolled her eyes and walked over to the bar where the tentacle-faced barman was quaking in his boots. She ignored him, heading instead for the pretty, blue-skinned girl at the end.

‘L-l-l-lady Ayasha,’ Hiffy said, trying to bob a curtsey, avert her eyes, and bow at the same time.

‘Hiffy. It’s a pleasure to see you again. Now get out from behind that bar and come with me.’ Ceri turned and headed back toward the doors. The conversation still had not restarted and she wanted out of the place so they could get on with their lives without their Overlord standing over them. ‘We’re going to see your grandfather,’ she said once they were outside. ‘I have a job offer for the two of you.’

‘Y-y-yes, Lady,’ Hiffy stammered lifting her skirt with her tail to avoid tripping over it in her haste.

‘Good grief, girl! I spent a very pleasant hour or two writhing around on your tail. You know full well who and what I am. Stop acting like I’m going to eat you.’

‘I can’t help it, Lady,’ Hiffy replied, half moaning. ‘It’s like… like you’re just so powerful it’s impossible and demons always bow before greater power.’ At least she had stopped stammering.

‘Hiffy is right, Mistress,’ Lily said, ‘but it’s kind of nice for me. My demon side has never been so submissive. I’m entirely subject to your whim, but I actually find it easier to control myself.’ She gave a little shrug and offered up a winsome smile before lowering her eyes again.

‘I suppose that’s a plus,’ Ceri said, her voice low enough that only they could hear it, ‘but having everyone afraid of me is no fun at all. So stop it. You can be all subservient if that’s how you feel you have to be, but I’m not going to harm either of you.’

‘Thank you, Lady,’ Hiffy replied. ‘I’ll try my best not to cower too much.’ Ceri laughed; that was more like the Hiffy she knew.

Ruffa, Hiffy’s grandfather, lived in what could have charitably been described as a hovel near the city wall in East Ward. He was a grumpy old man who had worked at the castle before being discovered stealing silver cutlery and having his hand cut off. Ceri had regrown the lost appendage when she was last in the city, but Ruffa was still grumpy. He even managed to look grumpy while cowering before her on the floor of his one waterproof room.

‘On your feet, old man,’ Ceri told him. ‘I’m here to offer you and your granddaughter a job so I don’t want to be looking at the top of your head.’

Wincing, Ruffa climbed to his feet, but kept his eyes away from hers. ‘What’s a great Lady such as yourself want with an old det and a barmaid, if it’s not too much trouble to ask?’

Ceri smirked at him. Just as much of an old curmudgeon as ever. ‘I’ve recently come into possession of a rather large castle,’ Ceri said, pulling out a chair with one short leg and sitting down. ‘It needs staff and someone to run it, and I’m not planning to spend all my time here. I want you to head up the household. Hiffy will be your apprentice and assistant so that she can take over when you retire. You’ll select the staff and keep the place running while I’m elsewhere.’ Hiffy let out a tiny squeak and covered her mouth.

‘I think the Lady forgets why I lost my job at Grey Castle,’ Ruffa replied.

‘No I’m not. I gave you your hand back, so if you cross me I’ll separate it from you again. Only this time the hand will be the only thing left.’ She smiled, making a joke of the threat. ‘But I don’t think you will anyway. I’m giving you real responsibility and a high position for you and Hiffy. I believe you’ll treat that with the respect it deserves. The question is, do you think you can do it?’

Ruffa paused, considering his answer. Ceri could tell Hiffy was holding her breath, but the old man’s delay suggested she had made the right decision. ‘Aye, I think I can, but all I can promise is to do my best.’

‘That is all I ask, Ruffa,’ Ceri replied. She grinned at Hiffy as the blue girl bounced up and down in glee. ‘Get whatever you need together and go to the castle in the morning. Speak with Lord Torn. He’ll arrange an escort for you to the Castle of Bones. Take whoever you wish to staff the place, or pick them up along the way. I’ll need to arrange for pay at some point, but for now I think people will be willing to give the Overlord credit.’ She rose to her feet. ‘I’ll be calling all the Lords together in twenty days. You’ve got until then to get the place ready.’

‘You’re leaving?’ Hiffy asked.

‘Yes. Lots to do. See you both soon.’ She raised her hand and Lily vanished into thin air.

‘See you soon, Lady.’ But there was no one to hear it.

The Castle of Bones

Lily had insisted on feeding Ceri. They had managed to get a fire going in one of the rooms in the private chambers, though they had had to get wood and bring it with them from Shilfaris. Ceri had used magic to shift the enormous, heavy, wing-backed chair closer to the fireplace, and Lily had got a cushion down to kneel on while Ceri sprawled on the chair. The food had come from Shilfrais too, picked up on the way from the castle to East Ward. Lily perched on her cushion and cut bread and cheese, and reached up to hold it while Ceri giggled and bit into it. Lily was giggling too.

‘We are going to have to get some new furniture,’ Ceri said. She waved her hand toward her goblet, and Lily picked it up, holding it to Ceri’s lips to let her drink.

‘Yes, Mistress. Furniture designed for fifteen foot dragon-people isn’t best suited for more normally proportioned rulers.’ She giggled again, picked up her own goblet and taking a drink. ‘It’s good wine.’

‘It’s gorgeous cheese too,’ Ceri agreed. ‘It’s really goaty, strong flavoured.’

‘Impressive, considering there are no goats.’

Ceri giggled. ‘There are no grapes, or wheat for that matter. The flour comes from a flower seed and the wine is fermented from berries.’ She hiccupped. ‘And it’s quite strong.’

‘It’s a good thing we got two bottles then,’ Lily replied. ‘Mistress might get over her hang-ups about being my mistress with enough alcohol in her.’

Ceri leaned forward and placed a finger under Lily’s chin, lifting her face to look into her eyes. ‘Does my gorgeous pet want her mistress then?’

‘Mistress knows her control of pet makes pet intensely horny,’ Lily replied, her voice a whisper. She giggled. ‘But a little more alcohol will dull Mistress’ inhibitions so she uses me in ways she’d never normally dream of.’

Ceri swallowed. ‘We won’t need the nursery. I’ll get Ruffa… No, I’ll get Hiffy to set about turning it into a dungeon.’

‘Mistress is most wise,’ Lily purred.

‘Not as wise as you, shekushka.’

~~~

She was standing in the watchtower, looking down on the world below. A cool wind blew over her skin like a caress. It was good, nice; despite the night air and the breeze Ceri felt as though she was on fire. Feverish, that was the sensation; hot, breathless, intensely aroused. Damn it! She had just spent two hours making excessive use of Lily’s gorgeous body and she was having a wet dream? And why was she dreaming of being up here of all places? The view was spectacular, true enough, and maybe she would bring Lily up here sometime, but…

‘You’re here for the view of the realm you rule.’ The voice was male, very male, a voice so masculine it reached right down between Ceri’s legs and squeezed.

‘Who… who are you?’ She did not turn around. She could feel some sort of presence behind her, something male, primal, animal, and she was not sure she wanted to see it.

‘Hmm… how best to describe what I am? The Spirit? The Essence? The Life?’

‘Spirit of what?’

‘Everything.’ She felt hands on her hips, sliding upward sensuously, gliding over her skin. ‘I am the sum of all the living things in this world, and of the world itself, and you are my Mistress, the ruler of all you see.’ More hands stroked the inside of her thighs, applying gentle pressure. She bent forward slightly, taking her weight on her arms and allowing her legs to be spread. The sheer masculine presence of the being could not be denied. Hands gripped her breasts and she felt her labia being parted by a thick phallus.

‘Uhhh… What… what are you…?’

There was a soft chuckle. ‘I’d have thought that was obvious.’ He entered her slowly, teasingly slowly, until she felt so full she could bear no more. ‘A union of land and ruler. A true union. A sacred marriage.’ He began to move, sliding out and then in again, gaining speed slowly and driving Ceri half mad as her body reacted to the sensation of being filled by the being’s sex. She felt her inner muscles starting to pulse and knew she was close…

But something made her pull back, panting and struggling to focus. ‘No,’ she whispered, ‘not like this.’ Her hands gripped the wall of the balcony and she concentrated hard as he continued driving into her, and the dream shifted around them and she heard a gasp. Opening her eyes she looked down to see the figure of a heavily muscled man with jet black skin and horns growing from his bald head. She was straddling his hips now, she was controlling the action, and his hands gripped her thighs as she rose and fell on his shaft, and now it was him who was struggling to hold back the inevitable climax.

‘I’m the Mistress,’ Ceri told him. ‘I’m the ruler. I speak, you listen. You belong to me.’

He let out a moan, part pleasure and part despair, and she knew she had him. Reaching down she grabbed his horns and pulled him upward, and a long forked tongue snaked out from between pointed teeth to caress her nipples. Her muscles began to clench around his shaft again, but this time she allowed the sensation to build. He was hers and she could enjoy herself; he would not be gaining release until she let him. This was going to be a good dream.

~~~

Her breath coming in shudders, Ceri opened her eyes and blinked at the canopy over the enormous bed in the master bedroom. Lily was sitting, cross-legged, a couple of feet away with a goblet of wine in her hands and a slightly bemused grin on her face. The bed had been designed for at least two people around twice their height so there was plenty of room for her to give Ceri some space.

‘That was one helluva dream you were having,’ Lily said. ‘I could feel… some of it. I hope Mistress wants to make use of her pet before we go out because her pet is about ready to pop.’

Ceri laughed and it came out as a husky groan. She held out her hand for the goblet and sat up, feeling shaky and weak. The wine wet her throat and restored some of her mind at least. ‘I think I just had my wedding night.’

‘I wasn’t aware that you’d got married.’

‘Me neither. The world came and… Well, the “sacred marriage” isn’t unheard of. Various cultures have enacted rituals involving the portrayal of sex between their gods for fertility purposes and the like.’

‘The world?’

‘The spirit of the world.’

‘And you and he went at it like bunnies in the sunshine.’

‘I’d say the relationship was fully consummated, yeah.’ She drained the goblet. ‘Now, lie back and spread your legs.’

Lily’s eyes widened. ‘But, Mistress…’

‘Oh no, you do as I say, remember, and if I say you’ll lie back and make lots of little mewling noises for my pleasure, then that’s what you do.’

The half-succubus gave her a grin and settled back onto the bed. ‘Yes, Mistress.’

Quatilan

Like the Castle of Bones, the portal in Quatilan was in a chamber beside the throne room in the city’s palace. Faran, Lily’s father, was waiting in it when they stepped through wearing a deep red robe and a smile. He gave Ceri a sweeping bow.

‘Welcome to Quatilan, Overlord,’ the incubus intoned. ‘I’ve done my best to arrange things as you asked. I have a prospective new Lord for you. Might I say that you are looking stunning today?’

‘You can, thank you,’ Ceri replied, ‘but you’re still not getting under this dress.’

‘Not that it would take a lot of effort, Lady.’

‘Practically none. Lilith can attest to that.’

Lily gave her father a smile. ‘It does provide excellent accessibility, yes.’

‘All right, where’s this Lord you’ve discovered?’ Ceri started toward the door at the end of the room. Quatilan Palace seemed to be fairly functional, built of grey stone and not heavily ornamented. It made a certain amount of sense; Molech, the previous owner, had been more about power than the appearance of it.

‘She’s waiting in the throne room. I think you’ll be pleased with my choice. She’s not entirely sure she wants the position, but she’s strong-willed and a good administrator.’

Ceri could feel the minds waiting in the room beyond and she smiled. ‘I’ve already met her, haven’t I?’

‘The Lady is most wise, and very difficult to give pleasant surprises to.’

There were quite a few people in the throne room, and Ceri ignored them entirely as she walked from the door to the gilded stone throne. She handed her staff over to Lily and then settled onto the seat, crossing her legs and adjusting her skirts before settling back and looking around.

She found herself looking at the tops of a lot of heads. They came in various colours; demon hair and skin came in far more variation than humans’ did. Her eyes scanned across until she found a waterfall of black. ‘Jubilia, come forward.’

The woman straightened up and walked forward, keeping as much composure as she could. She was a Lorril, a succubus currently, and could assume whatever shape, or even sex, that she wished, just as Faran could. The form she had selected, however, was the one Ceri had last seen her in, a beautiful, fair skinned woman with long, flowing, black hair. She was dressed in a black gown which hung around her neck and dropped into a deep cowl neck leaving her back and sides exposed. The skirt hugged her hips and legs like a glove.

‘Lady Ayasha,’ she said, executing a perfect curtsey.

‘Faran says you would make a Lord suitable to my requirements. What is your opinion?’

‘I have no doubt that I would make an effective administrator for the region, Overlord. My concern is a simple one. Lorril do not become Lords, generally. It is difficult for us to gain the respect of other demons.’

Ceri nodded; she had basically the same understanding. Lorril were actually very powerful demons, but they fed on other demons through sex. Frequently they were considered little more than prostitutes; the only prostitutes in a world which did not have them in other forms. ‘Well, putting it simply, I need a good administrator to run this region because my own castle sits on the edge of it. I’m appointing you Lord here and if anyone objects to that they can come to the Castle of Bones and discuss it with me. I haven’t actually opened it up yet, but I remember there being an extensive torture chamber.’

She rose to her feet and stepped to one side, taking her staff back from Lily. ‘Take your throne, Lady Jubilia.’

The Lorril hesitated for a fraction of a second, and then pulled herself up straight and stepped forward, taking her seat. She crossed her legs and sat with her back straight and her hands on the arms of the chair. ‘Thank you, Lady Ayasha.’

Ceri leaned toward her, her mouth close to the Lorril’s ear. ‘You might want to consider getting a cushion for that thing.’

Jubilia smiled regally at her bowing subjects. ‘I have come to the same conclusion very quickly,’ she said under her breath. ‘How did Molech sit on this thing?’

‘He was all arsehole, there wasn’t much of his butt in contact with the seat.’

The new Lord of Quatilan bit her lip to keep from laughing.

The Castle of Bones

‘This,’ Lily said, ‘is a torture chamber.’

‘Uh-huh,’ Ceri replied, her mouth hanging open as she looked around the room. It was, as her memory had indicated, on one of the lower floors, buried deep within the mountain. It was dimly lit and lined on both sides with cells where the prisoners could be kept between interrogations. She had not been able to remember what it looked like; her memory of it was coming from a distant ancestor and those memories tended to be fragmentary. Seeing it was something else.

‘I was expecting braziers and various pointy things,’ Lily said. ‘Some stuff for securing prisoners. A rack. A rack might have been fun.’

‘There’s a rack,’ Ceri said, pointing to one of the machines in the room. It was far from the only device designed to inflict pain. She had the feeling that the only way she was going to figure out what some of them did was to put someone in them and try them out.

‘This is a quite amazing collection of torture machines,’ Faran agreed. He seemed rather more comfortable with them than the women were. Then again, he was more used to this world than they were. ‘Some of them are relatively recent designs. None of them later than Molech’s rule here, but some of them undoubtedly date back to Gorefguhadget.’ He stroked his fingers over wood left polished by age. ‘If you were thinking of ripping all this out, I should think twice. Aside from the scare factor, this place should be maintained as a museum.’

Ceri walked over to a machine which consisted of some form of frame built around a chair. ‘I don’t even know what most of them do.’

‘That one…’ Faran walked over and pointed upward, indicating a dual-pronged hook suspended above the chair. ‘The hooks go into the nostrils, or are pushed through the tongue. The victim is strapped into the chair and the rope is tightened…’ Ceri and Lily winced at the same time. ‘For female victims,’ he went on, apparently feeling the need to educate them, ‘there is another obvious place to fix the hooks.’

‘I’m going to be outraged right after I throw up,’ Ceri told him.

‘Some demons live considerably longer than humans, and one or two have spent their entire adult lives perfecting methods of inflicting pain. Lack of empathy for their experimental subjects obviously helps in making them diligent in their work.’

‘Obviously,’ Ceri agreed. She found another device which appeared to be designed to hold someone bent over while it forced a stake through them, lengthwise. The gearing on it suggested it would do it very slowly. ‘I think I’ve seen enough of this for one day.’

‘Mistress should make sure Hiffy stocks our private room with more conventional devices,’ Lily suggested.

‘I’ll do that,’ Ceri replied, heading for the door.

They made their way up to the library. There were comfortable chairs there set in a reading room with two wings on either side packed with racks of books and scrolls. The whole rear wall of the room was a mural telling the story of Gorefguhadget, Ceri’s distant draconic ancestor, once Overlord of All Demons himself. Ceri settled herself into a chair and watched, amused, as Faran wandered into the stacks. Ceri had looked through them briefly the last time she had been here.

‘What service will I be fulfilling for the Overlord?’ Faran called out, his voice a little muffled by the volume of paper between them.

‘Officially you’re my major-domo and advisor,’ Ceri replied. ‘You’ll be standing at my right when I’m on the throne and whispering in my ear when I need information. However, what you’re really going to be doing is teaching me to be a demon.’

The incubus’ head appeared from between a pair of racks. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘If I’m going to do this, I need to understand my subjects better. I definitely need to speak and read Devotik better than I do and I’d like to learn Ctholnaraeic properly. I mean, I understand a few bits, but basically it’s gibberish.’

‘I can’t teach you Ctholnaraeic. My understanding of it probably isn’t much better than yours.’

‘No, but I know a man who can and I think knowing Devotik better would help. I need to learn proper behaviour, social mores, natural resources, geography…’

‘That smith we met at the Wintergreen estate?’ Lily said. ‘He was really keen to get his hands on that silver chain of mine. Demon silver must have something fae silver and normal silver doesn’t.’

Ceri nodded. ‘Some impurity not naturally found in the other worlds I’d imagine.’

‘So, opportunity for exports. Something for Ophelia to negotiate.’

‘Ophelia the Unseelie representative in London?’ Faran asked, poking his head out again.

‘Not any longer,’ Ceri replied. ‘Now she’s the Demon Realm ambassador to the Seelie Court.’

Faran gave a chuckle. ‘I can see I have some catching up to do as well.’ He moved into a new walkway and gasped. ‘Well… I never thought I’d see… and a Bolishab…’

‘You’re making far less sense than usual, Faran,’ Ceri called out.

The incubus emerged from the stacks holding a large, fairly thick, leather-bound book with gold lettering on the cover. Ceri could make out numerals from where she was. ‘This,’ Faran said, ‘is going to be your language tutorial. This is “One Thousand Nights” by Obeshina, and a Bolishab edition no less.’

‘Sorry, is that like “The Thousand and One Nights” or something?’

‘A combination of that and the Kama Sutra. Obeshina was a courtesan to Gorefguhadget, a Lorril and a very talented one. She wrote “One Thousand Nights” to entertain Lenadenora, her master’s wife. Supposedly they got on very well. It’s set out a little like “Thousand and One Nights” with a Lorril coming to the room of a great Lord every night knowing she might be killed, except that here it’s the Lord’s wife she fears. Every night the Lorril teaches the lady another way of pleasing the Lord, and every night the lady spares the Lorril so that she can learn more.’

Ceri raised an eyebrow. ‘You want me to study Devotik with you through the medium of a fantasy sex manual?’

Faran looked a little hurt. ‘The language is beautiful. A little archaeic now, but I think that should suit your persona as Gorefguhadget’s successor and you can always learn more modern idiom by listening to people here.’

‘Okay, what’s so special about the edition?’

‘Oh, Bolishab was one of the finest binders and publishers of his age. There are, maybe, four copies of this book in existence, and not too many of his other works about. Despite the sophistication and enchantment, they just don’t last. It’s said that Obeshina dictated directly to Bolishab’s scribe, so the reproduction is the best, and the illustrations…’

‘Wait… you’re saying that that book was printed and bound during Gorefguhadget’s reign?’ Faran nodded, his eyes on the pages of the book. ‘That makes it thousands of years old!’

He stepped forward, turning the open book and handing it to her. ‘Yes, and still just as beautiful as it ever was.’

Ceri looked down, expecting to see something a little like a woodcut or a rough painting, but she had to admit that the image Faran had selected to show her was both erotic and exceptionally well painted. The style was amazingly modern, reminding Ceri of something from a fantasy book cover with a couple engaged in sex under a stream of bright sunlight from a window. The couple were both female, probably, but it was a little difficult to tell for sure since one seemed to be covered in black scales and the other was an iridescent shimmer of colour in the shape of a woman. Their bodies were twined together, lips meeting in a passionate kiss.

‘It’s said that Lenadenora herself posed for the pictures with Obeshina,’ Faran said.

Flickers of remembered pleasure passed through Ceri’s mind. She could almost feel the Lorril’s lips on hers. ‘She did. I think she enjoyed Obeshina’s company a lot.’ She reached out to the side of the chair where Lily was perched. ‘Not unlike a succubus I know and me.’ She glanced back at him. ‘What about that other matter?’

‘Oh, yes… I located it. It’s in a locked cell in the basement of Quatilan Palace. I must say I was a little surprised that you wanted it. You know you can’t use the contents, or even touch it?’

‘Uh, what’s he talking about, Mistress?’ Lily’s slight alarm came over their link; she was quite capable of guessing what was being discussed. Ceri looked back at her pet and tilted her head slightly. ‘Okay, so he’s talking about the sword and bracers I used on you. Why?’

Ceri took a breath, considering her answer, and let it out. ‘When you had the dungeon put into High Towers, I thought it was a frivolous waste of several big favours people owed you. And then you explained that the room could be used as a prison for you if your demon side got too dominant.’

Lily nodded. ‘I may need it more now than ever.’

‘Well, I need this. I need to know that there’s someone who can stop me if I need stopping.’

‘That’s not going to…’

‘I lied about not remembering what happened when Anann was using my body. I don’t know whether she did it or it was the pendant, but I remember all of it. I remember killing hundreds of people. I remember wrapping my hands around the throat of some nameless Sidhe and squeezing the life out of him. I remember the power and the sense of right. It didn’t feel wrong at all. The power was intoxicating and I know I could have that kind of power again eventually, on my own without a goddess to grant it.’ She paused, adjusting her skirts over her legs even if they did not need it. ‘You need your mistress to keep your demon in check. I need my pet armed to make her immune to my magic to keep me in check.’

‘All right,’ Lily said softly.

‘Good. I’ll open the gate through to Quatilan later and you can go get it.’ She grinned. ‘Besides, with those bracers on I think you could boss me about. It’d be nice to play pet for you again.’

Lily giggled. ‘Mistress has a one track mind… thankfully.’

Kennington, London, February 24th

‘What day is it?’ Ceri asked as she stepped through the portal into the front hall of High Towers. ‘Seriously, that place throws my internal clock out the window.’

Gwyn smiled at her. ‘It’s Sunday, the afternoon of Sunday to be precise.’ She frowned slightly as Lily and Faran stepped through carrying a large, carved, wooden box between them. ‘And what have we here?’

‘Oh, you haven’t met Faran. Faran is Lily’s father. And Faran, this is Gwyn my great-great-great, and so on, grandmother.’

‘A pleasure to make your acquaintance, ma’am,’ Faran said, managing a bow while still holding the box.’

Gwyn nodded back to him. ‘A Lorril. We’ll have to have a… chat later…’

‘I don’t need to hear that,’ Ceri sing-songed.

‘…however I was referring to the box,’ Gwyn concluded.

‘Oh, it’s sorcery-proof armour for Lily to wear if I ever turn evil.’

‘Oh,’ Gwyn said, ‘well Lily always could accessorise.’

Battersea

Ceri really wanted to get into fur as they made their way to the island in the middle of the boating lake where Alexandra had her base of operations in Battersea Park. However, she had Lily with her and she would have just had to change back when she got there so it seemed kind of pointless.

Of course, Alexandra already had tea brewing when they arrived, and as soon as they sat down a pair of grey-furred arms looped around their waists, squeezing until the Alpha had to tell Michael to let them go before they burst.

‘That’s pretty jewellery, Lily,’ Alexandra said as she handed over a mug of tea. ‘Fae-silver?’

‘Uh-huh. Fairy-silver slave chain, though the fae don’t normally make them. I can remove this one, unlike the demon-silver one, but I like it.’

‘It does look good on you. Michael has briefed us on what happened in Otherworld, so there’s no need to explain all that. I take it you’ve been organising things in the Demon Realm?’

‘I needed to get Faran back here,’ Ceri said. ‘I promised I would. I also had a Lord to set up in the nearest city to the castle and some staff for the place to organise. I’m holding a meeting of the Lords at the Castle of Bones, uh… It’ll be the day after Lily’s birthday. Oh, and I’ve apparently married the planet.’

Michael gave a surprised bark and Alexandra laughed. ‘Some form of ritual congress.’

‘With a spirit of some sort,’ Ceri agreed.

‘Mind you,’ Lily said, ‘you should have seen her writhing around in her sleep. And the moaning…’

‘Yes, well it felt very real, but I knew it was a dream,’ Ceri said, her cheeks colouring.

‘The Greeks called it hieros gamos,’ Alexandra said, ‘a “holy marriage.” Generally it was enacted by two people representing gods. Zeus and Hera for the Greeks, Dumuzid and Inanna for the Sumerians. At least you didn’t have a physical lover to deal with.’

‘Small mercies. How are things going with the power station?’

There was a subtle shift in the position of the arms around their waists as Michael became human. ‘We’ve successfully adjusted the perimeter runs to accommodate keeping an eye on things. From what I’m hearing, everything is working over there. There was some noise about shutting it down after the dragon incident, but no one knew how to and it seems to be doing exactly what you said it would since so I think they’ve decided to just go with it. Cheryl could tell you more.’

Ceri nodded. ‘I’ll go see her on Tuesday. Twill will be back tomorrow with Ishifa and Ophelia. I don’t want to be out when they arrive. Would it be okay if Michael came over to High Towers tomorrow evening?’

Alexandra smirked knowingly. ‘Full moon night? In a house full of five full-sized women and two fairies? Are you sure that’s wise?’

‘It’ll be okay,’ Lily said. ‘Dad will probably be there to take some of the weight. Even if Ceri grows Twill and Ishifa for the evening we shouldn’t tire him out too much.’ Michael actually whimpered. Lily patted his arm. ‘Poor over-sexed wolf. We’ll make sure there are ice packs available in the morning.’

Ceri’s eyes narrowed as she looked out across the clearing. A tall, pale-skinned woman was standing in the shadows of the trees chatting to the taller, far more heavily muscled form of Anita, the pack’s Guard Captain. ‘Is that Lorna?’

‘Yes,’ Alexandra replied. ‘Mrs Radcliffe has been coming here to learn to fight. It’s slightly irregular since she comes when her husband is on night shift. She doesn’t want him to know what she’s up to.’

‘Huh. He’d worry. He thinks she’s fragile. I’ve seen her take out an armed special tactics officer and he worries about her coming to harm.’

‘Indeed. She’s hoping she can persuade him she’s not, and gain some confidence, but I’ve warned her not to keep it secret for too long. Her husband is a detective and he’s bound to figure out she’s up to something. Given her looks, he’s likely to jump to the wrong conclusion.’

‘Yes, he will,’ Lily said. ‘They’ve been through worse though.’

Kennington, February 25th

Ceri pulled the doors open wide and was immediately surrounded by a fairy. Twill spun around her like a tiny demon, flitting in circles and chattering too fast to be understood while Ophelia and Ishifa stood just outside and waited, looking a little embarrassed.

‘Welcome home, Twill,’ Ceri said, hoping that the small, brown woman might calm down soon. ‘Ishifa, Ophelia, welcome to High Towers. Why don’t you all come in?’ She stepped back and Ishifa came forward a little hesitantly. Ophelia sighed and picked up a large bag before following, closing the doors once she was inside.

‘It is good to be home,’ Twill said as she did a turn around the hall. ‘And Brenhines, so nice to see you again.’

Gwyn smiled and said, ‘Thank you, Twill. It’s just Gwyn now. I hope you’ll find the house is in order.’

‘She’s been fretting over it for days,’ Lily said, beaming at the fairy.

‘I’m sure everything will be fine,’ Twill said.

Ceri was watching Ophelia. ‘You okay?’ she asked, her voice quiet.

‘I’m… not a Silvershield anymore. They had to disassociate themselves from me. I’m just Ophelia. I don’t have a family name, a real job. My flat belongs to the House. They’ve been good about it, but I can’t stay there for long… I don’t know what I’m going to do.’

‘Bed space is a little cramped,’ Gwyn said, ‘but Mei is tiny so you can sleep with us. We may once have been dragons but we don’t bite.’

‘Oh, I can’t…’

‘Tonight you can,’ Lily said. ‘Michael will be over later, hyper as Hell from the moon. And Faran will be coming too. We’ll get drunk and do totally inappropriate things, and tomorrow is another day. Something will come up.’

‘Indeed,’ Gwyn said, smiling in a way which Ceri knew meant she was about to be embarrassed. ‘Tonight it will be Michael and Faran.’

Holloway, February 26th

‘You’re back!’ Cheryl said as Ceri walked, a little bleary eyed, into her boss’ office in the High Energy Thaumatology building. ‘Thank God.’ She paused and got up from behind her chair, walking around the desk to steer Ceri back out. ‘You look like Hell, girl. You need coffee.’

‘More coffee,’ Ceri amended. She let herself be steered toward the small kitchen at the side of the lab.

‘Long night?’

‘I’ve got Gwyn, Mei, Twill, Ophelia, and Ishifa staying. Last night was the full moon and we had Michael and Faran there. We finally went to sleep about six. I think we broke Michael.’

‘You realise I don’t know who half of these people are?’ Cheryl put a fresh pot of coffee on and the scent of hot water flowing through coffee grounds filled the room.

Ceri took in a deep breath through her nose and sighed. ‘You’ll meet them. I’ll fill you in when you do.’

‘That’s probably easier.’

Ceri opened her eyes and took a proper look at her boss. ‘How are you doing? Any… aftereffects?’ Cheryl had been kidnapped after she got close to discovering the dragons’ plot to take over the world. Her mind had been suppressed and she had been turned into a prostitute and pole dancer in a bar in Bangkok.

‘Nothing really. I still don’t remember a thing that happened before they took the chain off me. I’ve wheedled most of what Carter and Alec were able to discover about what happened to me out of them. I needed to know. Aside from that… I’ve been popping around to your place when I get the chance to so I can practice pole dancing. Apparently muscle memory wasn’t affected by the chain. My body remembers how to do it. I even went over to the Collar Club, and Jasmine and Naira think I could have a career in it if Carter didn’t go an interesting shade of purple at the thought.’

Ceri grimaced. ‘I’d imagine it brings back some bad memories.’

‘Not exactly. He had a pole put in the bedroom at his house in Chilcomb. He’s perfectly happy to watch me dance, he just doesn’t want sweaty men doing it.’ She grinned and pulled down a couple of mugs. ‘Meanwhile, the world has moved on while you’ve been in other ones.’

‘Michael said they’re still running the generator.’

‘Indeed. It’s operating fully within specs. The reservoir the dragons snuck into the system to build that bridge actually works beautifully to handle surges in demand. The government is phasing out several conventional plants. By the summer London will be entirely supplied from Battersea.’

‘All good so far, why are you looking harried?’

‘They are proposing three more plants in Birmingham, Manchester, and Newcastle. I’ve been working through the mathematics and I don’t think there’s a problem, but I need someone to check my figures. President Wilson was re-elected in the US and among his first acts were the announcement of a pilot project in conjunction with the Tribal Nations to build a generator for New Orleans, and he’s putting heavy funding into MIT for thaumatology research. We’ve also had enquiries from Australia.’

‘Australia?! They don’t have any large magic sources.’

‘They want to try to run something down from the Ring of Fire as it goes through Indonesia. Maybe from New Guinea.’

Ceri’s eyebrows went up. ‘That’s stretching the enchantment to its limits. Uh… average level of the Ring is… twelve thaums?’ Cheryl nodded, smiling. ‘So… about seventy miles between posts. They might have to put some on the ocean floor to get it to work.’

Cheryl’s grin was enthusiastic. ‘And you just do that in your head. Sounds like an interesting project though.’

‘Yes, but we can’t do all of this. We’d never be home!’ She dropped her voice several decibels. ‘I’ve got an entire demon dimension to run and we’ve opened diplomatic relations with the Seelie Court.’

Cheryl giggled and patted her arm. ‘This is what happens when you’re too brilliant for your own good. And you said you didn’t like administration. Oh, Carter wants you and Lily to drop by the “Not the Jade Dragon” as soon as you’re back, and you’re back.’

‘He’s going to relaunch it?’

‘Oh yes, but he’s got some issues, and he wants to go over the plans with you two.’ She looked up thoughtfully. ‘He’s at the Collar Club this afternoon auditioning a new fox. I can use it as an excuse to get out of this place for a few hours. Seriously, the Dean has been riding me like a rodeo stallion over all these projects. And they’re already planning the next Thaumatology Conference. You’re helping with the organisation this year.’

Ceri let out a groan. ‘Thanks, Boss. I love you too.’

Soho

The Collar Club looked like a moderately typical strip club at first glance. There were booths with low tables around the edge of the main room, tables set around a runway stage, and a gleaming, chromed pole. What made the place special, and attracted its particular audience, was that all the dancers were were-creatures.

Right now there was a half-dressed young redhead swinging around the pole to a throbbing, disco beat. She was down to a thong, and when that was removed she would shift. Hanging upside-down with her ankles the only thing keeping her up, she still managed to look quite elegant as she slid her thumbs under the sides of her knickers and then slid them up her legs. Gripping thong and pole in her hands, she inverted herself and shifted at the same time. When her bare feet hit the stage she was wearing red-orange fur, her features had flattened, and she had a long, lush, fox’s brush sprouting from the base of her spine. She turned, twirling the tiny garment around a finger and grinning at her audience to show plenty of fang.

The audience consisted of Carter Fleming, the club’s owner, Alec, his best friend and the barman at the “Not the Jade Dragon,” Jasmine Bell, the principle dancer at the club, Cheryl, Lily, and Ceri. They clapped at her performance and watched as she tossed the thong down the stage and went back to performing even more acrobatic manoeuvers.

‘She’s good,’ Ceri said.

‘Very,’ Jasmine agreed. ‘I taught her some of it. I teach an evening course with Naira at our local night school. She’s been doing it for two years, for fitness y’know? She was married to a human right out of school and they just got divorced. She’s got limited skills and I suggested she try out for Carter.’ Her nose wrinkled. ‘I actually think she started dancing to spice things up for her husband. Turns out the creep had been banging anything he could get his paws on the whole time.’

The music came to an end and the dancer wound herself down to the stage from the top of the pole. They clapped as she climbed down from the stage, shifting as she did so even though she was still breathing hard. She dropped into one of the chairs at the table and smiled at them. Clearly she had no issues with showing her body in public.

‘Beth, my dear,’ Carter said, ‘you have yourself a job should you find the terms agreeable.’

‘Anything would be better than Social Security, sir,’ Beth replied.

‘We generally start girls on the stage and they can move on to table dancing if they wish.’

Beth nodded. ‘Jasmine explained, sir. That sounds good. Jasmine’s a great teacher, but amazingly the classes didn’t include that kind of dancing.’

‘Excellent. Now, you can sit there looking exquisite or get dressed, as you wish. I have some other business to discuss with Ceri and Lily.’ He gave the were-fox a smile and turned in his seat. ‘As Cheryl said, I’m re-launching the Jade Dragon. We’re having a fae theme. I’ve already found some suitable costumes for the waitresses.’

‘Fae?’ Ceri said. ‘As if we hadn’t had plenty of that recently.’

‘It sounds fun,’ Lily said. ‘Is there any more cloth in the dresses?’ Carter gave her a “you should know better” look. ‘Thought not.’

‘It would be useful if you could come in for a fitting at some point,’ Carter added. ‘I have two problems, however. First, I haven’t a name for the place yet. If you can think of something suitable, I’d appreciate it.’

‘I suggested “Fairy Tail,”’ Alec put in, smirking. ‘Tail, as in “getting some tail.” He said it was too low-brow.’

‘It is,’ Carter replied. ‘Second, I’m short a waitress. Tess’ mother is ill, and with all that’s happened in London recently she decided to move back into Kent. She’s found herself a job down there, so I need a replacement, full time waitress.’

Ceri and Lily looked at each other. ‘So it’s going to be fae-themed,’ Ceri said.

‘And you need a new waitress,’ Lily added.

‘We may have just the right person for you,’ Ceri finished.

‘She’ll say no at first,’ Lily pointed out, ‘but I think we can persuade her.’

‘And who is this perfect applicant?’ Carter asked curiously.

Kennington

‘A waitress?’ Ophelia said, blinking. ‘You want me to be a waitress?’

‘A waitress in one of the most prestigious nightclubs in London,’ Lily replied calmly.

‘You said you needed a job,’ Ceri added. ‘The pay is good and the new theme is fae-based. You’d be perfect.’

‘The ex-ambassador of the Unseelie Court prancing around in one of those ludicrous dresses? Are you two nuts?’

‘There will be entirely new ludicrous dresses,’ Lily said. ‘You’ve got a great body and I know you’re not bothered about showing it off. And you’re a diplomat so you should be used to smiling at people you think are morons.’

‘And you said you needed a job,’ Ceri reminded her.

Ophelia shook her head. ‘You’re both mad.’ She paused for a second. ‘And apparently it’s infectious. When is he reopening?’

‘He needs a name,’ Ceri told her. ‘All the interior work is finished. He wants to open a week Saturday, but he may have to delay if he can’t think of a suitable name soon.’

‘A name for a fae-themed nightclub that is going to be the best club in London, full of celebrities and supernaturals?’ Ceri nodded. ‘Well, Tir inna Nok.’

‘Is that like Tir na nOg?’

‘The Low Fae name for it, yes. “The Land of the Young.” It’s a region in the far west, legendary even to us. Supposedly a land of plenty where the most powerful of High Fae dwell.’

Ceri grinned. ‘Sounds perfect.’

‘Now we just need to get you fitted for your ludicrous dress,’ Lily said, giggling.

Soho, March 9th

Ophelia tugged once more at the hem of her skirt, if it could be described as a skirt. The new dresses were designed to look like they were cut from huge leaves, the front and back sewn together with laces down the sides and a flower over each hip. As it had been at the Dragon, each waitress at the Tir inna Nok wore a different colour; Ceri was in very dark green, almost black, with red flowers, Lily was in an autumn brown with pale yellow flowers, Sasha wore pale, icy-blue with pink flowers, and Ophelia was in a darker blue-green with yellow flowers. Their six-inch pumps matched the flowers. The bodices came to points over their breasts and the skirts were basically a collection of petals, very, very short, and barely covering anything.

‘You realise if you pull it down too far, you’ll just expose more boob,’ Lily said to her, an indulgent smile on her face.

‘You’ll get used to it,’ Ceri suggested. ‘I got used to the other dresses.’

‘You look gorgeous,’ Sasha said. The blonde seemed to be excited to be opening up the new club, practically bouncing on her toes as she waited. Carter had been paying her during the closure, but she was actually glad to be back at work.

In truth, so was Ceri. Working at the Dragon had been one of her ways of relaxing, even if that sounded crazy. She did not really have to think, just do. The customers were generally well-behaved, and even when the place was crammed full of moon-hyper werewolves all she got was a bit of groping and a lot of polite propositions. The new club would be the same; here she was not a sorceress, or a demon Overlord, or even a thaumatologist, she was just Ceri the waitress and that was fine by her.

Carter emerged from the rear of the club with Alec and Cheryl in tow. He was dressed in one of his immaculate suits, this one white, his ash-blonde hair was perfectly cut, he looked like the millionaire playboy that he was. Alec was in a black silk shirt and black slacks, and he slipped behind the bar with the assurance of a man who considered this his domain. Cheryl was wearing a wrap-around, strapless gown which both covered and showed everything; Carter loved dressing her in expensive, sexy dresses, and this one was no different being made of a material so thin that it was translucent. Cheryl seemed to be less worried about her body being so much on display than she usually was. She barely squirmed at all when she saw Lily smiling at her and licking her lips.

‘Ready ladies?’ Carter asked.

‘Yes,’ Ceri, Lily, and Sasha chorused.

‘As I’ll ever be,’ Ophelia chimed in.

‘You will be glorious,’ Carter told her. ‘You’re the one fae in our fae-themed club. People will be queuing up for your tables.’ He started toward the entrance vestibule. ‘Smiles, ladies. Usual expression, Alec.’

~~~

For about ten minutes after the doors had been opened, Carter had been doing his absolute best not to look intensely nervous. No one was waiting outside the doors, and no one appeared there wanting a table. An hour later he was smiling a lot and wondering why he had been worried; the place was packed.

Ceri stood at the bar, her eyes scanning over her tables, watching for customers in need of a waitress. There were an abnormally large number of fae in, along with the more or less expected throng of celebrities who were bound to be there on the opening night of Carter’s new club. If she had to guess, several of the women had come with the hope they would be going home with the proprietor, but they were out of luck with Cheryl sat at the bar. Ceri had no doubt that Carter would be picking up willing one-night stands again soon enough, but not when Cheryl was around.

Lily was at her glorious best. Her succubus talents gave her significant advantages. She tended to run her hunting aura on low when working, which tended to make people appreciate her a little more and leave bigger tips. The bigger advantage, and the one all the waitresses relied upon, was her ability to sense desires. She always knew when someone was about to need serving.

Sasha was enjoying herself. There were several of her favourite customers in and she was chatting as much as serving. That was how she got bigger tips; a little flirting here and there did wonders. She was an attractive woman, not too tall, with mid-length, blonde hair and a good figure, and she was not above using her looks to her advantage. All the regular customers at the Dragon had had their favourite waitress, and Sasha worked to make sure some of them preferred her.

Ceri’s tables were exclusively filled with supernaturals. There was a table of werewolves, members of the Royal pack from Regents Park, out on the town for the night. There were a couple of vampires who seemed to have a good working relationship with a human couple; not uncommon. There were a lot of Sidhe and they all seemed to be paying her a lot more attention than usual. She thought she understood it now after talking to Oberon, Titania, and Finvarra; they were attracted to that dangerous sense of power that hung around her. Well she could live with the extra tip money.

Only Ophelia seemed to be having a bad time. She seemed a little closed off, not her usual, confident self. The reason became clear as she walked back from taking drinks to one of her tables. ‘They’re all sitting there gloating,’ she muttered. ‘They’re sat there thinking, “Look how far she’s fallen. She’s a waitress now.” I don’t think I can do this.’

‘Yes you can,’ Lily told her, ‘and no, they aren’t.’

‘Huh?’

‘Table seventeen was sent specifically by the Seelie Court to see what this place was like. The rest of them are enjoying themselves and thinking that there’s finally a place they can sort of make their own. Carter made a good move going for the Fae market.’ She looked across the bar at Alec. ‘Twill says you can get small glass for fairies and pixies. The Dubh Linn has them. Might be worth looking into.’

Alec looked thoughtful. ‘Could set up some small tables on the end of the bar… I’ll talk it over with the Boss.’

Lily nodded and turned back to Ophelia. ‘Table twenty-three. Now straighten your back, smile, and stop being paranoid. Even the severe looking guy on table seventeen has decided he would rather speculate on whether he can get under your dress.’

‘Oh,’ Ophelia said. ‘Oh… right. Okay, table twenty-three.’ She turned, straightening her back and pushing her chest out, and then strutted off toward her tables.

‘Are Oberon and Titania really checking up on this place?’ Ceri asked.

‘That’s the way I read them when they came in. Inquisitive with a purpose, and they weren’t here for a good time.’

‘Weren’t?’

‘Even the guy with a stick up his arse has relaxed.’

‘Good.’ Ceri turned her attention back to her tables. ‘I’m feeling pretty relaxed myself. Back to normal, Lil. Things are back to normal.’

‘It won’t last y’know? Normal for us is murder, war, mad ancient undead.’

‘Yeah, but for a while we can sit back and revel in the joy of normality. If you call a bar full of fae, undead, werewolves, and a couple of humans normal.’

Lily giggled. ‘Compared to the places we spent the last few months, this is as normal as it gets.’

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About the Author

I was born in the vicinity of Hadrian's Wall so perhaps a bit of history rubbed off. Ancient history obviously, and border history, right on the edge of the Empire. I always preferred the Dark Ages anyway; there’s so much more room for imagination when people aren’t writing down every last detail. So my idea of a good fantasy novel involved dirt and leather, not shining plate armour and Hollywood-medieval manners. The same applies to my sci-fi, really; I prefer gritty over shiny.

Oddly, then, one of the first fantasy novels I remember reading was The Dark Is Rising, by Susan Cooper (later made into a terrible juvenile movie). These days we would call Cooper’s series Young Adult Contemporary Fantasy and looking back on it, it influenced me a lot. It has that mix of modern day life, hidden history, and magic which failed to hit popular culture until the early days of Buffy and Anne Rice. Of course, Cooper’s characters spend their time around places I could actually visit in Cornwall, and South East England, and mid-Wales. In fact, when I went to university in Aberystwyth, it was partially because some of Cooper’s books were set a few miles to the north around Tywyn.

I got into writing through roleplaying, however, so my early work was related to the kind of roleplaying game I was interested in. I wrote “high fantasy” when I was playing Dungeons & Dragons. I wrote a lot of superhero fiction when I was playing City of Heroes. I still loved the idea of a modern world with magic in it and I’ve been trying to write a novel based on this for a long time. As with any form of expression, practice is the key and I can look back on all the aborted attempts at books, and the more successful short stories, as steps along the path to the Thaumatology Series.

Writing, sadly, is not my main source of income. By day, I’m a computer programmer. I work for a telecommunications company in Manchester, England. My favourite authors are Terry Pratchett, Susan Cooper, and (recently) Kim Harrison. Kim’s Hollows books were what finally spurred me to publish something, even if the trail to here came by way of Susan, back in school, several decades ago.

For More Information

The Thaumatology Blog: http://thaumatology.wordpress.com

Other Books in the Series

Thaumatology 101 - B006IYIESW

Demon’s Moon - B006JPN7A0

Legacy - B006OKR8PK

Dragon’s Blood - B0072S1DOU

Disturbia - B007GNICZO

Hammer of Witches - B007YG2I44

Eagle’s Shadow - B008E17TYW

Ancient - B00923F8AS

Dragonfall - B00AKV95XW

The Other Side of Hell - B00AS0NF54

Anthologies in the Thaumatology Universe

Tales from High Towers’ Study - B006ZAJ7TY

Tales from the Dubh Linn - B0080XPD88

Table of Contents

Part One: The Spring Bride

Part Two: Never Make Deals with Fae

Part Three: Discord

Part Four: Morrigan’s Daughters

Part Five: Hieros Gamos

Preface

Interlude