Throne (28 page)

Maya grinned, and threw her arms around him, hugging him tight, felt him hug her back. “You’re the nicest fox I’ve ever met, Guillaume,” she said, stepping back and looking up at his weathered, knowing face. He winked at her, and then turned to look out over the Host as they quieted down and began to turn away. “Where is everybody going?” asked Maya.

“To war,” said Old Man Oak, stepping up beside them. Though he was of a height with Guillaume, he seemed somehow imponderably vast, a shrinking down of something impossible to understand in size and age. “To war, little one. To do battle with the enemy.”

“Now? I mean, right away?” asked Maya, feeling foolish again. She’d just arrived. She’d hoped for at least a little time before turning right around and going back. Old Man Oak looked past her, and she turned to see the crimson armored women stepped up to the base of the roots.

“Yes, Incarnadines?” he rumbled.

“We ask to be the honor guard of the Lady,” said the foremost, a haughty and striking woman with fantastic red hair and a longsword at her hip.

“I’m not the Lady,” said Maya, but Old Man Oak had already bowed his head.

“Your request is granted, Scarlet,” he said.

“Hey, shouldn’t I decide that?” said Maya

The woman placed a hand on one of the lower roots, and vaulted over it smoothly. She moved with leonine grace, and, within moments, had reached the place where Maya stood. She looked down at her with imperious eyes, her mouth pursed, her eyes iridescent, “My lady, the Incarnadines shall guard you during the coming battle. My name is Scarlet.”

“Thanks,” said Maya, unsure of herself. “That’s really great of you.”

“Look,” said Kevin, shouldering his way past Guillaume who shot him a look full of ire, “If we’re going into battle, I’m going to need some gear. Like, a two-headed tiger to ride and a flaming sword.”

Scarlet looked at him with an arched brow and shook her head. Kevin turned his grin to Old Man Oak, and then wilted before his hoary gaze. “Okay, a flaming sword and a pony,” said Kevin. “A war pony? No? Just a pony then.”

There was a cough behind him, and Kevin turned to see Tim Tom Tot holding a blade up to him by the scabbard. Kevin blinked, and then took the sword by the handle and made to draw it, only to be stopped when Tim Tom Tot latched onto his wrist with dark brown fingers and held him fast.

“Don’t be drawing him if yer not going to be spilling blood, lad,” he said, voice low.

Kevin blinked once more, and then slid the blade back home. “Oh, okay. Cool. Like the samurai. Got it.” Tim Tom Tot released both his wrist and the scabbard, and Kevin held the blade up to examine it. The scabbard was forest green and greatly scuffed, while the handle was simply rawhide leather wrapped in crosshatching fashion. Wide, short, and flat tipped, it looked like a machete of sorts, not really a sword at all.

“Tis the blade that Sieur Dalahan wore when he did battle with the Green Giant,” said Tim Tom Tot. “So sharp, the blade, that it chopped clear through the Giant’s iron bones.”

Kevin made a face of appreciation, and then turned to the brownie. “Hey, thanks dude, that’s—“

But Tim Tom Tot’s face had darkened to thunder, with a cry of disgust he turned and bounded away, shaking his head, furious.

“What?” asked Kevin, surprised. “What did I do?”

“Never thank his kind,” said Guillaume quietly. “It isn’t done, goes against his nature. To do so invites disaster.”

“Oh,” said Kevin, looking down at his new weapon. “Oops.”

“Come,” said Scarlet, “The Host moves. We must follow, and move quickly if we are to take the van.”

“We’re taking a van?” asked Kevin, brightening up as he fumbled the sword onto his belt.

“No,” said Guillaume, rolling his eyes, “We’re not taking a van, but the vanguard. That means the front.” He shook his head, and strode away, down the maze of roots to gain the ground beyond.

“That doesn’t sound good,” said Kevin, and then blinked as Scarlet snorted and moved down as well. “I mean, hell, the van sounds great.” He hurried to catch up with Scarlet, shooting her a bright smile. “What did you say your name was?”

Maya frowned, and then turned to look at Old Man Oak, who was the only one left standing by her. “Is everything going to be alright?” she asked, suddenly scared. “I’ve never even been in a fight, much less… a real one.”

Old Man Oak smiled, the expression sad, infinitely wise and old. “Life continues apace, little one. The balance will be preserved.”

Maya nodded glumly. “Do I get a sword?”

“Do you want one?”

She considered. What would she do with a sword? The idea of pushing it into somebody was nauseating. “No, I guess not,” she said.

“Here,” said Old Man Oak, and placed three acorns in her palm. “If in danger, throw one to the ground, and a tree shall there grow.”

“Oh, thanks,” said Maya, looking from the three acorns to Old Man Oak’s lined face. “Thank you very much.”

Old Man Oak nodded, and then pointed past her. Following his finger, she saw Scarlet and the other crimson clad warriors waiting for her impatiently. Guillaume had already left the glade, as had most of the Seelie. The griffin was standing at the back, and, as she watched, it crouched down and exploded up into the air, great muscles in its haunches propelling it into the sky, vast eagle feathered wings beating down to send a snap of wind through the glade as it fought for the sky and was then gone, out of sight over the canopy.

“Will you—“ began Maya, but stopped as she turned back to Old Man Oak and saw that he was gone. She looked around, searched between crevices in the tree trunk, but couldn’t find him. With a small sigh, turned and made her way through the great roots to join where Scarlet stood with the others.

“Come,” said Scarlet, “To battle.”

A great, bristled and pink form stepped into view. “Will you ride, lady?” asked Jimmy Squarefoot. “I’ll bear you into battle, if you wish it.”

Maya grinned, and gave the pigman a hug. “Thanks, Jimmy,” she said. He squatted down before her, and she climbed onto his broad back. Hands linked behind the small of his back to steady her, and he rose to his feet. Overhead, golden owls circled, white and bronze and aureate satellites, awaiting their departure.

“To battle!’ cried Scarlet, and broke into a run, the other women falling in beside her. Kevin swore as Jimmy lurched forward, and threw himself up behind Maya, arms latching around her waist. He was bony and tense, his body hot against her back.

“I am not,” he said, “Running all the way to Manhattan.”

Maya tried to look over her shoulder, grinned, and then hugged Jimmy harder. With a squeal, he jumped forward, picked up speed, and began to race through the trees. Overhead she heard the powerful screech of the griffin, and with Kevin’s arms around her, felt suddenly that she was in the most powerful, beautiful and strangest dream ever.

They raced through Brooklyn. Along broad avenues lined with trees, passed endless homes, peoples, cars. Nobody looked at them, nobody saw them. A ghostly host, improbable and strange, running and hopping and jumping and flying toward the East River, past entrances to the subway, through red lights and green, through crowds and traffic, untouchable, unstoppable. At times, Jimmy and the Incarnadines ran alone, at times they were joined by bands of others, from glorious knights atop their coursing steeds to bands of centaurs, their broad chests gleaming with sweat, bows slung over their shoulders.

Finally, they gained the river’s edge. Maya was about to yell to Jimmy to take a right, to head toward the Brooklyn Bridge, but he never paused. Unlike the first time over, this time he simply raced right toward the water’s edge, and then leaped out, springing with his irrepressible energy high into the air and out over the muddy water. Maya screamed, Kevin’s voice joining hers, but instead of sinking into the water with a mighty splash, they landed as if on a firm surface. Panicked, gasping, Maya turned to stare at where the Incarnadines were running alongside, their feet hitting the water’s surface as if it were solid.

One of the crimson armored women caught her eye, and grinned. She seemed younger than the others, perhaps Maya’s age. “The Host on the move generates its own magic,” she cried out over the howling wind that swept across the river, “When we move, nothing may stop us!”

Maya laughed then, and looked beyond their own small band. Across the Brooklyn shoreline, other fae were appearing, streaming out across the water as if it were covered in thick ice; bands and hordes, drawing closer together as they raced over the swells and waves toward the distant tip of Manhattan. Ships and tugs moved slowly past, and, deep beneath them, subway trains were rattling and racing through their dark tunnels. But here, in the cutting wind and spray above the river, the Seelie Host raced unimpeded.

Her exhilaration began to fade and be replaced by fear, however, as they drew ever closer to the skyscrapers that marked Manhattan’s Financial District. The towers seemed alien and harsh after the security and nature of the glade, an inhospitable environment that would reject them. She searched the Manhattan shore for a place to land, and saw the trees and grassy swards of Battery Park.

“There,” she called into Jimmy’s ear, pointing at the green tip of the island. “Land there!”

Jimmy changed his course accordingly, the Incarnadines following suite, and as if an invisible string had tugged at the others, the rest of the Host oriented itself and began to bunch together as they approached the park. The swells in the river were rising now, and Jimmy raced and leapt over them like a hurdler, occasionally just throwing himself high into the air with one of his impossible leaps. Too soon, too quickly, the shoreline grew close, and staring through the stinging spray that had her chilled, Maya saw dark forms moving on the walkways and lawns of the park, the glint and gleam of weapons in the park’s lights.

“They are prepared for us,” cried out Scarlet. “But we shall sweep them back!”

Overhead, the griffin screeched once more, leading other flying members of the Host, moving faster now so as to gain the shore first. The skyscrapers reared above them, a wall, a cliff of obsidian and glass, impenetrable and hostile. Maya shivered; it was as if she could sense the Queen’s realm before them, as if they were entering shadow and, in doing so, her power.

They were some thirty yards from the shore when the griffin swooped down and scattered a group of what looked like goblins, plucking two up in its claws and beating its wings furiously to ascend once more into the air. Winged girls with long spears followed after it, casting their weapons down at the goblins who scattered and broke, running for the bushes. The griffin reached down and tore the heads off each goblin with its savage beak before dropping both into the sky. Maya watched the bodies cartwheel, loose limbed, and then hit the ground bonelessly. That was when what they were about to do really hit her, and Jimmy leapt, one last time, and left the river, soaring over the containment wall and the looped chain above it to land lightly on the broad walkway that followed the water’s edge.

“We are here, my lady,” wheezed Jimmy, placing both hands on his knees and leaning over. “We have—“ but he stopped, turned, great ears swiveling as a large form emerged from behind a large statue of a rearing bronze eagle close by. Maya stared with horror. It had a nightmare version of a baby’s face, was larger than the biggest man she had ever seen, and wore white robes as if it were some sort of holy man. It reared back, and then threw a black spear in an overhand cast. The spear sailed through the air and punched into Jimmy’s chest, burying itself deep in his body.

Jimmy screamed and reared up to his full height, clasping the spear with both hands, tugging at it, shrilling with shock and pain. Kevin tumbled off from behind her, and then Jimmy went down on his side, kicking his legs and foaming blood at the mouth. Maya fell off, lay still, and realized she was screaming, stopped. The baby headed thing was loping toward them, lips curved into a gentle smile, eyes blank, coming right at her. She scrambled to her feet and then saw a blur of red armor as the younger Incarnadine raced past to engage it.

A hand on her shoulder, pulling her back. It was Kevin, his face grim, his sword drawn, blade a dark, terrible green like the heart of a swamp. Yells, and, to her side, she saw a phalanx of knights charge into an assembled knot of brownies, each yelling and screaming, daggers and swords. Kevin drew her back, and more Incarnadines were moving into position.

“Jimmy,” she yelled, blinking and looking at where his great pink form lay still. Kevin’s hand was firm on her shoulder, but then he let go of her and spun away, turning to face a tall thing that looked half human, half snake. Yelling, he ran at it, waving the blade, and Maya pressed her hands against her mouth, turning to see the youngest Incarnadine go down, head torn from her shoulders by the baby headed thing’s large hands. Overhead, the griffin screamed and dive bombed something behind a small building to her left.

Shaking her head, panicked, Maya tried to gather herself. More Seelie were gaining the shore, and their numbers were pushing the enemy back. The baby headed thing was down, Scarlet punching her blade repeatedly into its chest, causing fountains of what looked like liquid pearls to glop up into the air. Where was Guillaume? Kevin? She turned around once more and saw Kevin duck down under a sweep of the snake man’s arm, and bury his sword into its thigh. It hissed, swiped at him again, missed. Kevin seemed completely healed, and was yelling curses at the top of his voice, hacking and leaping about as if trying to chop down a tree that was on fire.

Movement out of the corner of her eye, and she turned in time to see a black skinned goblin run at her, long knife held before it. Its face was twisted as if it had been sat on, and its misshapen legs carried it deceptively quickly. It leapt and she screamed and threw herself aside, but an out flung hand caught at her hair and whipped her head back and to the side. Her legs went out from under her and she crashed to the ground, breath slammed out of her, scalp on fire, eyes flooded with tears. She scrabbled up onto her knees but the hand in her hair yanked her back and then hands were about her throat, squeezing with terrible power, its horrible little face before her, lips pulled back to show yellowed teeth.