Drinking Midnight Wine (13 page)

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Authors: Simon R. Green

BOOK: Drinking Midnight Wine
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“ADS?”
“Attention deficit syndrome, or whatever the hell they’re calling it this week. Kids too bright for the system, who can’t or won’t fit in. They play havoc with normal teaching systems and disrupt classrooms, and the usual practice is to drug them up to the eyeballs. Turn them into obedient little zombies. Which is understandable, they can be right little bastards. But we try to channel their energies into more productive, more sociable patterns. It’s slow, hard work, but it has its rewards. Do you like children?”
“Yes, but I couldn’t eat a whole one.” Gayle laughed at that, almost despite herself, and they shared a smile. Toby hurried on. “I like kids in the abstract, but I don’t have much practical experience of them. I don’t know if I’d have your kind of patience. Do you have . . . children of your own?”
Gayle smiled. “I like to think they’re all my children. I care for them, help where I can, and do my best never to give up on them. What do you do for a living, Toby?”
“Ah,” said Toby, thinking quickly. “I’m connected with publishing. On the retail side. Interesting work. Look; can we please talk about what’s going on? All the weird shit I’ve seen today? What really happened last night? Why does the town I’ve lived in most of my life suddenly seem so different? And please don’t use the word
magic
again. I don’t believe in magic, or any of that stuff. I’ve read everything from
The Golden Bough
to
Chariots of the Gods,
and I’ve never been convinced by any of it. Have I crossed over into some kind of alternative dimension? That at least sounds scientific.”
“Science arises out of the real world,” said Gayle, almost sympathetically. “That isn’t all there is. The universe is much bigger than that. You can’t think in such limited terms anymore, Toby.”
“Let’s start with last night,” Toby said doggedly. “There was a door, where there wasn’t a door before. We walked through it. Everything changed. How?”
“We were in the real world last evening,” Gayle said patiently. “You and I, on the train, on the platform. Then in the car park. It was raining. I was . . . impatient. So I opened a door, between the real world and the magical world. Between Veritie and Mysterie. I can do that. I have powers, responsibilities. I decided it wasn’t raining in Mysterie, and so it wasn’t.”
“You made the door appear. I thought there was no magic in the real world?”
Gayle nodded approvingly. “You’re starting to catch on. There are doors everywhere: natural fault lines, fractures, between the two worlds. People like me, and now you, with a foot in both worlds, can see these doors, these openings, and can pass through them. Sometimes people fall through by accident. There are many stories of people disappearing suddenly. Look them up if you want. Down the centuries people have blamed the disappearances on everything from fairy rings to UFOs. Anyway, the point is, you followed me through the door I opened, and into Mysterie. You are now part of, and aware of, the magical world, and it is becoming aware of you.”
“What . . . were you, originally?” said Toby slowly. “Real, or magical?”
“I’ve always been both,” said Gayle, smiling. “It’s part of my nature. But I prefer to live in the real world; it keeps me grounded. Still; don’t you go thinking that what you and I have done is in any way normal or ordinary. Usually the worlds are strictly separate, and people are discouraged from traveling back and forth. Science and magic are never supposed to meet, or interact.” She frowned, choosing her words carefully. “Magic isn’t illusion. Mysterie is the reality beyond the reality you know, the world from which your world unfolds. Veritie, the real world, is the subtler of the two realms.”
“So which came first?” said Toby.“Veritie or Mysterie?”
“Which came first, you or your shadow?” said Gayle. “They’re just two aspects of the same thing. Look, you’re getting the Easy Readers version here. You’re not ready to go wading too deep into philosophical waters. People have been deliberating the nature of these and other realms for countless centuries. There is no rule book, no instruction manual. We live in our own worlds, and we learn by doing. I’m just trying to explain enough to keep you out of trouble. Mysterie is a much more dangerous place than Veritie.”
She stopped, and looked at him silently with her dark, all-seeing eyes. Toby never once considered looking away. Gayle sighed again.
“Toby, I couldn’t help but notice the way you’ve been looking at me, and I have to tell you, it’s not going to happen. You mustn’t fall in love with me. Trust me on this. There are reasons why not. Good reasons.”
Toby just grinned. “Too late: I’m yours. I fell in love with you the first time I saw you, and that was months ago. You might as well ask a salmon not to swim upstream, or a butterfly to change back into a caterpillar. It’s a done thing.”
“I’m just trying to prevent you from getting hurt. You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
“I know all about being hurt,” said Toby. “I’ve been hurt by experts, and I’m still here. Sorry; that sounded self-pitying, and I do try not to be. What I meant was, I’m not afraid of wading into deep, dark emotional waters.”
“You don’t understand, Toby.” Gayle steepled her fingers under her chin and looked at him almost sadly. “Do you remember all those old folk tales and songs, about mortal men falling for magical women and coming to sad, horrible ends? Those songs were written about women like me as a warning, to save men from themselves. I’m much older than I look, Toby, and there is more to me than you could ever hope to understand. Mortal must not love immortal.”
“And vice versa?”
“You’re determined not to listen, aren’t you? Let me say this as plainly as I can, Toby Dexter. You seem a nice enough sort, but I don’t love you, I don’t fancy you, and I never will. We can’t even have enough in common to be friends. You should never have followed me through that door. But now you’re here, let’s talk about why the Waking Beauty saw fit to send you to me. I take that very seriously. Focal points can be dangerous to all concerned, if they’re not properly directed. In fact, that’s the only reason I haven’t kicked you out already. You and your damned roses and your sweet, helpless smile. I have been here before, and it’s never ended well. Will you please stop smiling at me! I don’t need a big clumsy puppy dog getting under my feet and cluttering up my life!”
“So you’re not going to throw me out?” said Toby, blithely ignoring everything he didn’t want to hear.
Gayle had to smile. “You’re a trier, aren’t you? Forget that, and concentrate on what matters. The Waking Beauty did say you were a focal point? You couldn’t have been mistaken?”
“No. It’s one of the few things I am sure about.”
“Damn. Focal points mean change. Often involving violent upheavals in the way the worlds run. Whatever happens, you’re not going to be popular, Toby.”
“Well, who decided I was going to be a focal point?” demanded Toby, just a little plaintively. “No one asked
me
. I didn’t get to vote on it. Isn’t there anywhere we can go to ask for a recount, or something?”
“Not if you like living,” said Gayle, thinking hard. “We’re dealing with the immaterial here . . . the higher realities, the shimmering realms, the Courts of the Holy. You really don’t want to go there. Especially not with your attitude. No; it’s up to us to try to figure out why you’re so important, or why you’re going to be. Focal points can bring about change by their actions, or inaction, or simply by interacting with others. The reasons usually only become clear in retrospect, after everything’s gone to hell in a handcart and we’re all busy trying to pick up the pieces.”
“But . . . I’m just me!” Toby protested. “I don’t feel any different. I certainly don’t feel at all powerful.”
“That’s the worst kind,” said Gayle darkly. “The subtle ones. You’d better come with me, and meet some of the movers and shakers in this town. Maybe between us we can figure out what you’re supposed to do, or be, so we can either defuse you, or at least point you in the right direction so you do the least possible damage. You’re going to have to stick close to me for a while.”
“Suits me,” said Toby, trying not to grin too widely.
“Please don’t smile like that. You don’t have a single clue what’s lying in wait for you. There are forces in Mysterie who would quite cheerfully rip your guts out if they knew you existed, just to keep you from upsetting their precious status quo. Come on; finish your tea. We’re going visiting. Try to make a good impression. You’re going to need friends and allies if you’re to survive long enough to do whatever it is you’re supposed to do.”
“This is Saturday,” Toby said firmly. “I am not putting on a suit and tie for anyone. Besides; good impressions aren’t exactly what I do best. With me, what you see is pretty much what you get.”
“Oh, hell,” said Gayle. “In that case, we’re in real trouble.”
“Cheer up,” said Toby. “I can pretend to be civilized, if I have to. What I can’t take seriously is the idea that anything I might do could possibly change the world. Worlds. Now don’t look at me like that; I am taking your warnings seriously. There are people out there who want to kill me. Got it.”
“Not necessarily people,” said Gayle.
“All right; that’s scary. But it was my decision to follow you through the door, and I wouldn’t take it back if I could. I wanted to meet you, and be with you, and here I am. That’s all that matters. You really are rather special, you know.”
“Trust me,” said Gayle. “You have no idea how special.” She stopped and looked at him thoughtfully, appraisingly. “Toby . . . there are alternatives. You’re only in danger as long as you remain a focal point. And you can only be that here, in the magical world. I could make you forget everything. I could send you back through the door into reality, into Veritie, back to where you belong. You’d just wake up in your own bed, a little later than usual, and remember none of this. You could resume your old life, an ordinary man in an ordinary world. Safe from the burden of destiny, no longer a threat to the powers that be.”
“Go back to my old life?” said Toby. “I’d rather die. And it would mean forgetting you, wouldn’t it? I won’t do that. You’re the only special, beautiful thing that ever came into my life; and I’d rather die than give that up. I didn’t choose to fall in love with you; I just looked at you one day on the train and that was it, done. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. And just when I was beginning to think that love was something that happened to other people. Giving you up would be like giving up the only part of my life that matters. You can’t
make
me forget, can you? You need my consent. And I don’t give it.”
“You do like the sound of your own voice, don’t you?” said Gayle. “I’ve never met a man that didn’t. I could warn you till I’m blue in the face, and you still wouldn’t hear a damn thing you didn’t want to. Listen to me, Toby; please. You don’t matter to me, except for the danger you represent. I don’t love you. I never will. But no, you’re right. I can’t
make
you forget. It would be the safest, sanest thing to do, but there’s no arguing with a man who thinks he’s in love. Just remember, when everything’s gone to shit and I’ve had to abandon you to die horribly for the sake of both worlds, I did offer.”
“Why offer, if you don’t care for me?”
“Because I am more than I seem. I have responsibilities. Even to complete idiots who won’t be told what’s best for them.”
“It’s more than that,” said Toby remorselessly. “I can hear it in your voice.”
“All right!” Gayle threw her hands up in the air. “I collect strays. It’s a weakness of mine. But in the end you mean no more to me than some sad old tom with fleas and a chewed-up ear. You’ve got about as much sense. Why risk your life, your security, to be a focal point, when you’re incapable of understanding what that means, and what it’s worth, if anything? There’s no guarantee that anything good will come of this, especially for you.”
“You’re cute when you’re angry,” said Toby. “Don’t hit me! Look; don’t think this is entirely about you. I’ve never been important before. Just once, I need to feel that I’m worth something, that what I do matters. That’s worth dying for. Hell; that’s worth living for.”
“Let me ask you a serious question,” said Gayle. “What value do you think one ordinary man can have in a magical world? What can one mortal man bring to the affairs of immortals?”
“Beats me,” said Toby. “Maybe whoever chose me to be a focal point knows the answer. Or maybe we’re supposed to work it out for ourselves.”
Gayle sighed heavily and looked down into her empty teacup for a long time. Toby let her. It meant he could adore her beauty uninterrupted, while at the same time concentrate on ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach. He felt more and more that he had just jumped in at the deep end in lead-lined boots, and that someone had thrown a shark in after him. For all his brave words, he wasn’t at all sure he was doing the right thing. The thought that there were people, and perhaps things not at all people, who would cheerfully kill him just for existing, scared the crap out of him. Part of him wanted to go straight home, hide under the bed, and not come out until it was all safely over. But he’d meant what he said. Gayle mattered more to him than his own safety, and perhaps even his life. Love could be a hard old bitch, sometimes.

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