A Life Less Ordinary (23 page)

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Master Revels said. He sounded badly shaken too. I was surprised. I’d never seen anything daunt him before, even when we’d walked into the Fairy Roads and had to cross the narrow bridge. “We have one question. Are the Elfish Kingdoms kidnapping ghosts from our world?”

There was a long pause, pregnant with possibilities. The Queen seemed to be stroking her chin, considering her answer. The entire Court seemed to be holding its breath. I found myself wondering just what was going through her mind. The Elfish Code – the law bound into magic itself – insisted that they had to give a honest answer, but the elves could be relied upon to warp the answer somehow, giving one that was factually accurate and completely unhelpful…if they could. Master Revels seemed prepared to wait as long as necessary for their answer. I felt as if the Queen was stretching out the moment as long as she could, purely for her own amusement.

“No,” she said, finally. The Court rustled with amusement. We had eliminated one possible suspect, but who did that leave? It left no one, as far as I could tell, unless there were other elves who didn’t answer to the Queen. No one really understood how the elves organised and governed themselves. The general theory seemed to be, like the magical world as a whole, that might made right. “The Elfish Kingdoms are not kidnapping ghosts from your world.”

Master Revels scowled, before slipping into a bow. “Thank you for your time, Your Majesty,” he said. I heard the edge in his voice and shivered, knowing that the elves would be able to hear it too. “With your permission, we will take our leave.”

“Don’t go,” the Queen said. She smiled a smile that would have been warm and attractive, if there was any human feeling behind it. “You are welcome to join us at our tables and eat with us this midsummer night.”

Master Revels smiled. “And is the food given freely and without obligation, Your Majesty?”

The Queen smiled back. The smile suddenly became much less human – if that was even possible – revealing something
other
behind her smile. I caught a glimpse of something so large, something so alien, that I cried out in shock, sensing the waves of power rippling throughout the Court and converging on the Queen. She was very far from human and there was something, no less terrifying for being half-seen, behind her. She was vast, beyond human comprehension; what I was seeing was only the tip of the iceberg. The Court faded away around us and we were standing together on the path, which was leading off into the distance.

Master Revels caught my arm as I staggered. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. I had the feeling that he wasn’t talking about the Queen. “We just have to walk home and then we can collapse in peace and safety.”

I nodded. Walking down the path felt as if I was walking through knee-deep mud, but the more I walked the easier it became. It was a chilling reminder that the elfish world was very different from the mundane world, even the magical world. We were walking through pure dead magic, the magic the elves had used to build their paradise. I had, in a sudden flicker of inspiration, an insight into how they’d built their world. They had used their magic to open a Gateway to an empty dimension and programmed the underlying fabric of the universe to reflect their wishes. A human being who walked into the universe, lacking the connection of the elves, would be at their mercy. The only thing keeping them from abusing everyone unlucky enough to stumble into their world was the rules…and it was easy to break them and find oneself trapped forever.

Faerie spread out in front of us as we walked. I saw strange buildings that seemed to move in dimensions the human eye was unable to follow. I saw a small village made of mushrooms and another set within the branches of a tree. The entire scene was dominated by another tree that seemed to rise up to heaven itself and down to hell, the roots being set somewhere within the fundamental base of the universe. The sight reminded me of old legends I’d read, back when I’d been a child, yet I couldn’t place it properly. It was just…familiar.

“Everyone has that feeling when they stumble into the Land of Always Summer,” Master Revels commented, when I remarked on it. “The world reminds them of racial memories, of when the world was much younger and the human race lived in paradise. Being here, being armed with the ability to manipulate one’s environment…it would either allow you to develop or destroy yourself. You could find anything here.”

He snorted. “There’s a dimension, not too far away, that is full of magic,” he added. “A sorcerer who found himself there would discover that reality itself coincided with his thoughts – all of his thoughts. The universe destroys anyone stupid enough to remain there for more than a few minutes. They get torn apart by the monsters of their minds.”

I nodded in silent understanding, concealing my awe as a line of tiny figures marched past, heading somewhere deeper into Faerie. High overhead, a bee the size of a large dog flew overhead, buzzing cheerfully as it came closer to us. It looked almost friendly, although by now I knew better than to take anything for granted in Faerie. The bee, for all I knew, was a dangerous predator. Mundane bees died when they stung someone, and their sting was hardly lethal to a human, but who knew if that was true for a magical bee?

“The bees probably slipped though a Gateway back when the world was young,” Master Revels said. He sounded more relaxed now that we were away from the Queen. “If they stayed here, they would be exposed to wild magic and be mutated into something else. The elves might have experimented on them as well. And now they could never return to the mundane world.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. A scaled-up insect could not fly, not in the mundane world, any more than a dragon could fly or breathe fire. The magical bees would be dependent on raw magic to help them fly, using magic that simply didn’t exist in the mundane world. The dragons, it seemed, could generate magic for themselves, but I had no idea if the bees could do the same. They would probably collapse under their own weight.

“Over the years, as magic started to go sideways out of the mundane world, most of the magical creatures came here to live,” Master Revels added. “There are Unicorns and Centaurs and Talking Beasts and all manner of creatures that now exist only in legend, back in the mundane world. None of them can survive without high levels of magic; many believed that magic was going out of the world permanently, while others knew that humanity would eventually drive them to extinction. They all came here through the Fairy Roads and found a new home.

“Some people believe that the elves built the Fairy Roads as a way to move between the dimensions, which accounts for how they treat unwary visitors. Others believe that they were built by a far older race that has since vanished, leaving the Roads behind and allowing the elves to move in and take over. No one actually knows for sure – apart from the elves and they’re not talking.”

I grinned. “Which way would you bet?”

Master Revels considered it as the world started to shift around us. “I have no idea,” he said, honestly. “It would take vast power to create the Roads within the warp and weft of the universe and the elves definitely have that kind of power. On the other hand, creating and maintaining the Roads requires a very different mindset to the one the elves show everyone, which suggests that someone else built them. I have no idea.”

The world turned white, then red. I had a sudden sense of a wall of blood washing towards us and had no time to do anything before it struck us, leaving a foul taste in my mouth and ruining my dress. The suit that Master Revels was wearing was completely ruined by the wave. I saw blood dripping off his top hat and couldn’t help a giggle, even though I felt awful. A moment later, the blood vanished completely, leaving us both clean and dry…and standing in a white void. The only thing we could see was the path in front of us.

“We don’t always see the blood,” Master Revels said. He sounded unperturbed by the experience. “It symbolises something, although opinion is divided as to what.”

I wanted to spit, but instead swallowed hard. Even the taste of blood had vanished from my mouth. “Does anyone know anything for sure in this world?”

Master Revels laughed, not unkindly. “Dizzy, this is the magical world,” he said. “There is no such thing as objective fact here. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”

I flushed. A moment later, the world turned even brighter white and then we were standing together in front of the mirrors. I realised that I was clutching his arm and let go of it, turning to walk out the wooden door. He pulled me back, wove a complicated charm with his hand, and then allowed the door to open without triggering any of the security spells. I realised my mistake a moment later. A door, by its very nature, is both an entrance and an exit. If there were dangerous creatures roaming the Fairy Roads, one of them might find its way out through the mirrors and escape into our world.

Fiona fluttered down to meet us as soon as the door closed behind us, locking and sealing itself automatically. I cringed as I felt the security spells shimmering back into place, feeling a weird tingle passing across my body. If I had been any closer, the spells would have reached out and caught me. Master Revels nodded to me, chatted briefly to Fiona, and then led the way up to the kitchen. I think we both needed a mug of tea.

“Tell me something,” I said, as we reached the kitchen. “Does anyone ever get onto the Roads by accident?”

“More than you would think,” Master Revels admitted. “There were once millions of Gateways scattered across the Earth. Over the years, many of them – even most of them – were closed down by the elves, or by the various magicians who wanted to prevent intruders entering the magical world. Even so, there are quite a few Gates that open and close seemingly at random, sucking in anyone unlucky enough to blunder into them. They generally get lost on the Roads and end up trapped somewhere, if they’re unlucky.”

He told me a story about a pair of twin girls who had somehow found their way onto the Roads and ended up travelling from world to world with a group of magicians. I listened absently, although my head was spinning. The reassuring solid nature of the human world was a comfort, yet coming out of Faerie hurt, in a manner I couldn’t fully explain. It felt as if I had been torn away from my mother’s womb. The thought was a bitter one. I had treated my mother badly and the Ordeal had brought that home to me. I resolved that, when I had the time, I would return to my mother and try to make amends with her.

“I failed,” Master Revels said, afterwards. I was shaken by the sudden change in subject. “I didn’t expect them to challenge you to undergo the Ordeal.”

“Hey,” I said, as reassuringly as I could. “It was no big deal.”

My trembling voice gave the lie to my words. Back in the human world, the memories refused to fade. Sure, I had beaten the Ordeal, but it had left permanent scars on my psyche. The bad memories it had dragged up, only to throw them in my face to amuse the elves, were resounding through my mind. Master Revels knew that I had lied, but he didn’t call me on it. I think he understood more than he was prepared to admit.

In hindsight, I understood the Ordeal a little better. It had reached into my mind, pulled out all the nagging doubts and insecurities and pushed them at me, trying to use them to overwhelm my soul and – in the elfish realm – it would have destroyed me. Or, perhaps, I would have made a bargain with the elves just to make the pain stop. It was nothing as simple, or understandable, as physical torture, yet it was chillingly effective. If I had undergone it a year ago, before I dreamed that magic still existed in the world, it would have killed me. I would have been destroyed by my own mind.

“And then I asked an imprecise question,” Master Revels continued. He didn’t sound pleased with himself. “I asked about the Elfish Kingdoms, not the elves in general. There are some independent elves out there.”

I frowned. “Like Cardonel?”

“Cardonel is a half-elf,” Master Revels said, darkly. I knew that he was still unreasonably prejudiced against half-breeds. “They wouldn’t consider him a
real
elf, Dizzy; they’d consider him an abomination. I told you that, didn’t I?”

“Yes, sir,” I said. I had already decided not to tell him that I was going on another date with Cardonel and his friends. It would only upset him. “So…what do we do now?”

Master Revels considered it. “We know that the Kingdoms are not involved, which is something of a relief,” he said. “The Thirteen may want us to continue investigating or they may give it up as an unsolved mystery. Perhaps the ghosts did fade out of our world and go onwards to their final reward. It would be unlike them to leave the matter alone, but you never know.”

He shrugged. “And I am sorry about putting you through the Ordeal,” he said. “I didn’t expect that to happen.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. It hadn’t been his fault. Besides, I had walked away from it stronger and better. The elves hadn’t had the last laugh at all. “You know, I meant to ask you…if elves and humans are different races, how can they have half-breed kids? Dogs and cats don’t produce kids if they mate, do they?”

“I have honestly never considered the question,” Master Revels said, dryly. He looked up at me, sharply. “Are you considering having sex with the half-breed?”

I flushed. There was something penetrating in his gaze, a suggestion that I had asked a question that had been far too revealing. “I don’t know,” I admitted. On one hand, I found Cardonel attractive – and yes, he had helped me free the slaves. On the other hand, I recalled the claws growing out of his hands and the glamour-spell he had used when we first met. “Could he get me pregnant?”

“Dizzy,” Master Revels said, “this is the magical world. It isn’t bound by mundane laws and science. Anything can happen here.”

He shook his head. “If you and he have unprotected sex…yes, he could get you pregnant,” he said. “I have no idea what any quarter-elf child would look like, but there is a good chance that it would kill you outright when the child was born. And then there is the fact that your child would be neither human nor elf. He wouldn’t have a good life in the world.”