She moved her hand slowly to indicate the trees, the sky, the grass.
'Everything is alive, everything is linked. There is a mind behind it all. We
cannot know it, nor begin to know it, but it shapes us all . . . Fragile
Creatures, Golden Ones
. .
. We are all part of it. And it demands
champions. In its wisdom, it has decreed they come from the ranks of
Fragile
Creatures
...
of your kind, Mallory. They fight for the very
essence of Existence, for Truth and Life. They are known in the Fixed
Lands ...
in your
world
...
as Brothers and Sisters of Dragons. At any
time, five are chosen, though they may never be called to fight the enemies
of Existence.'
Mallory didn't like the way the conversation was going. 'What are you
saying?'
'The five who held that role throughout the troubles that devastated
your land are broken, Mallory.
Gone
...
to time long gone, to the Grey
Lands, to different roles where the need for them is greater. A new five
must arise.'
He shook his head as if his own denial would prevent what she was
saying from being true.
'You are the first, Mallory.'
'That's ridiculous. It's so ridiculous it's laughable. Me, a champion?'
The concept was absurd in so many different ways he couldn't begin to tell
her.
'There is a need for you, Mallory. A great need. And you will be ready
for it, though there may be more forging necessary. Existence does not
choose its champions unwisely. You are a Brother of Dragons.'
'A Brother of Dragons,' he repeated with a disbelieving laugh. 'OK, I'll
bite. For now.'
She gave him a scabbard, which he fastened to his belt, and then she
motioned for him to follow her again. Mallory's mind was racing. He'd
just about accepted that he was nowhere on earth, that he was in a place
that had slipped into folklore as Fairyland and that the woman with him
was of a race that simpler people had come to call fairies. But where he
really
was, and what she truly was, escaped him. What made him uneasy
was the realisation that since the Fall the world was not simply at the mercy
of isolated supernatural predators that looked as if they'd wandered in
from
Grimm's Fairy Tales.
There were other powers, perhaps higher
powers, that had some interest in humanity; mankind was no longer in
control of its own future.
As they moved back through the trees towards the Court, he put his
tumbling thoughts to one side and said, 'Why are you helping me?'
'You were brought to me, and I never turn away a creature in need.' She
appeared to consider this for a while before adding, 'My people have
always had a relationship with your kind, sometimes friends, sometimes
enemies, but always there.'
An owl broke through the branches and circled her until she held out
an arm for it to land. Her skin remained unscathed under its claws. She
leaned towards it, apparently listening, as it made a series of strange
sounds deep in its throat. 'There is food and drink on the table if you wish
to refresh yourself,' she said as it took flight.
On the way back to the Court, Mallory thought he could sense a deep
sadness underneath her calm, as if she had lost someone or something very
dear to her. He found he had warmed to her with remarkable speed; she
appeared uncomplicated and uncorrupted by cynicism.
In the Court, they walked for ten minutes along corridors where the
only sound was the soft tread of their feet. Eventually, they entered a large
hall with a beamed ceiling and luxuriant tapestries hanging on the stone
walls. Food and drink were laid out on the table - silver dishes and platters
containing seafood, spiced meats, breads and fruit, and decanters of a
deep red wine - but there was no sign of any servants.
'Not many people here,' he said.
'The Court of Peaceful Days is filled with life, but my subjects know I
prefer silence to follow at my heels.' She gestured for Mallory to sit.
'Everything in my Court is given freely and without obligation.'
'Subjects?' You're the queen?' Mallory suddenly realised how hungry
he was. He didn't know how long he had been out, but after the days of
cathedral rations his stomach yearned for sophisticated food. He tore
into the ham and bread, washing them down with a goblet full of red
wine.
She took the seat at the head of the table but didn't touch the food,
seemingly content to watch Mallory enjoy himself. 'That is my responsibility.'
'The queen of all Fairyland.'
She laughed silently at his name for the land. 'There are many Courts
in the Far Lands, and each has its own queen or king, its own hierarchy,
its rules and regulations, petty rivalries and intrigues, loves and
vendettas.'
Once he had taken the edge off his hunger, Mallory sat back and looked
at her in the light of the latest information. 'When everything went pear-
shaped a while back, everyone was talking about gods carrying out
miracles all over the place. That was your people?'
She nodded slowly. 'We were worshipped when your race was in its
infancy. The tribes called us the Tuatha De Danann. We are known to
ourselves, in your tongue, as the Golden Ones.'
'Why did everything change?'
She gestured dismissively as if it were a minor question. 'The seasons
turned. It was time once again for an age of wonder, of magic. We
returned to the land we knew, and that many of us loved.'
Mallory selected a sharp silver knife and began to quarter an apple.
'Your kind were supposed to be everywhere during the troubles, but since
then there's hardly been any sign of you.'
'My people have detached themselves from Fragile Creatures once
again. After the rigours of the Great Battle, when suffering and hardship
were felt on all sides, the decision was taken to withdraw amongst ourselves, to concentrate on our own affairs. But we can no more leave Fragile
Creatures alone than your kind, good Mallory, can leave the Golden Ones
alone. Isolationism never works. We are all bound. We must find ways to
exist together.'
Mallory poured himself another glass of wine. The velvety warmth of it
was spreading through his limbs. 'I wouldn't hold your breath. My own
people can't get on together.'
She stared introspectively into the warm shadows in the corner of the
room. 'We are all bound, Mallory. Freedom to act independently is an
illusion. Obligations and responsibilities tie our hands, as do love and
friendship. And good men can no more turn their backs on need than
cowards can face danger.'
Mallory finished his apple and pushed himself back from the table,
replete. 'That's a very optimistic view of human nature.'
She rose without replying and he trailed behind her out of the room into
another chamber, heavily carpeted and filled with sumptuous cushions.
She stretched out, catlike, upon them. 'Threats lurk where you least expect
them, Mallory,' she said.