Treachery of Kings (20 page)

These horrors fueled the air with such heat, such a fierce, concussive beat, that Finn felt his body was under constant siege, that the very air conspired to punch and prod his head, his belly and his chest.

Before he turned and fled, with a hapless gesture to the King, he noticed that none of these mad, clamoring clocks seemed to tell the same time…

T
HERE'S A REASON FOR THAT,” SAID LLOWENKEEF-
Grymm, as they reached the King's door, and Finn's hearing began to return. “The Afterworld has its own sense of time. Those of us who follow the faith of the Deeply Entombed are in tune with the Great Eternal Hour, not the illusion of time we find reflected here.”

Julia, waiting where Finn had left her, pretended to be immobile, as she sometimes liked to do. Finn ignored her and followed the King inside.

“Yes, I see, eternal hour, splendid idea,” Finn said, who felt it was best to agree with a lunatic and let him have his say.

“Don't be absurd.” The King smiled, for he felt it best to be polite to the hopelessly misinformed.

“You don't
see
anything, Master Finn. You couldn't possibly understand our beliefs. Why, I scarcely do myself. Besides, we wouldn't have you even if you did. You're not of noble birth, and if you were, I'm certain you're not kin to me. There are only eleven believers in the Church of the Deeply Entombed.”

“Eleven, sire?”

“What, you think that's too many? I assure you, they are all sanctified. All blessed and approved by me.”

Eleven? This whole funereal farce is for eleven rattlepates who like to take a nap
?

“I have a great desire to learn about the many different spiritual paths one comes across in the world, Your Grace. It is most enlightening to understand more about yours.

I—”

“Different?
Different
paths, you say?”

The King's demeanor, just this side of a frenzy or a fit, told Finn at once he might have put this remark another way.

“What I meant to say—”

“I quite understand what you meant,” the King said, his anger quelled as quickly as it had come. “Ignorance, indeed, is a valid excuse. Even the sin of heresy comes into play.”

He paused, then, to pour them both another mug of ale. “Do you imagine, Finn, the sorrow, the agony I must feel, the burden that weighs upon me, with the knowledge
there is no other true path but mine? That everyone outside my immediate family is doomed? Destined to walk the earth as Coldies when they die? It is hard to live with this, my friend.”

Finn imagined a tear ran down the King's cheek, but surely it was only a trick of the light.

“I—had not realized the great responsibility you bear for us all, Your Grace. May I say that you handle it rather well.”

“No, no I don't. Nice of you to say, but I fear that I don't. I should pray for those who will ever be awake, but I seldom have the time.

“At any rate, nothing I can do about that, is there now? I am pleased you were able to meet me, and show me that marvelous machine as well. Where'd the damned thing go?”

“My honor, sire.” “Yes, it certainly is.”

“You have so many—truly unusual rites, sire. Anyone aware of the Deeply Entombed, as I am now, can understand why it
is
the only true path.”

“Very astute of you, boy,” the King said, stifling yet another yawn. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have important functions to perform.”

“I don't see how you handle the load, Your Grace. Your eternal parades, your intense devotion to sleep, the Millennial Bell. I must tell you I'm honored to have been present here when that sonorous instrument struck again. Would I be overstepping my bounds, sire, if I asked what occasion you are commemorating now?”

“Which what?”

“The occasion, sire. The bell celebrates a, ah—theo-logical moment of some sort. From the word, I would guess, something a thousand years ago. That would have been about—”

“Wendon's day.”

“Sire?”

“Last time before this. About noon, I recall. I rose and ate three fowl hens. Two jugs of wine.”

“Your Grace—”

“Time before that was the middle of Madge. Tootsday the fifty-third. I think I told you, Finn, I have a lot of things to do.”

He stood, then, downed his ale, and ushered Finn to the door.

“Well, it's been a pleasure. Get out of here, I've had enough of you.”

“Sire, if you don't mind—” Finn saw at once the King was nudging him toward the door where he'd first come in—away from the portal where Julia still waited outside.

“If I may suggest… “

With a somewhat rude gesture, the King gave him a push outside and closed the door.

Finn muttered to himself, nothing so loud that the rigid Badgie guards might hear. They might, every one, be Maddigern's cousins or brothers, as far as he knew.

Five minutes, then another ten. No sign of First Servant Dostagio at all, no way to find Julia without simply asking the King. That didn't seem like a good idea.

“Trees and Bees,” Finn said, with no small touch of irritation. “I don't have the slightest idea where I am, or where I ought to be!”

Fine. One course is better than none, and far better than standing here…

With that, he walked confidently down the hall, turned left, followed the torches away, and turned right again. Lost, at once, but what did that matter? Every path was wrong in the House of the Perpetual Nap.

At least, he thought, his time had been fairly well
spent. He had learned a great deal about the spiritual life of King Llowenkeef-Grymm, even though none of it made a bit of sense.

The one point he hadn't dared touch upon was the one that concerned him the most. A sorcerer had knocked him senseless. That same seer belonged to the King, and what was His Grace's part in that? Did he know about it, or not? And, wasn't it even more disconcerting if he wasn't aware of it at all?

He was anxious to share this with Letitia, and even Julia, though he wouldn't admit to that.

“They are each, in their way, extremely good at puzzles such as this. They will toss a tricky question around until it gives up and rolls over and tells them what they want to know—”

“Talking to yourself, are you, sir? They say it's a sign that dark forces whisper in your soul… “

The voice came out of shadow, and Finn's heart nearly stopped, this time without the aid of a spell.

“Sacks and Tacks, you gave me quite a fright. Come out and show yourself now!”

She stepped into the half-light, then, no longer a phantom, but a person fully formed. Formed so nicely, in fact, she took Finn's breath away. A woman, though very lately a girl, slender and slight, with citron hair to her shoulders, a narrow face and wide-set eyes of the very palest blue.

The eyes of a girl who has drowned and lies beneath the sea…

Finn was stunned by this disturbing thought, and set it quickly aside.

“I'm sorry,” the woman said, in a voice that brought vague, unwholesome thoughts to mind. “I like to walk in this hall, for there's scarcely ever anyone here.”

“I don't suppose there is. I don't imagine anyone unfamiliar
with the place could find it twice. I am quite lost myself.”

The woman gave him a lazy smile. “I'm DeFloraineMarie, and I'm the daughter of the King. You're the one who makes lizards that talk, and you're not lost now, Master Finn. …”

F
INN RESISTED, POLITELY DECLINED, SAID HE WAS
certain it wasn't the thing to do. The woman, the girl, the sprite insisted, wouldn't take no, and, she made it clear, she was a princess, and people did what she told them to do.

Her quarters weren't far. When they arrived, she slid past the door and he followed her through, certain, now, he was somewhere he shouldn't ever be.

He had seen her only as a dim and hazy vision as she hurried him through the shadowed hall. Even then he'd been dazzled by her beauty, by the lightness of her being, by her effortless grace.

Now, she stood before him in the glow of a hundred candles of crimson, tangerine and gold, clad in some pale and vaporous gown, something more a whisper or a mist that circled round her than a garment of any kind.

Finn felt as if his knees would give way. As if, in her presence, he would simply come apart. And, in a corner of his mind, there came a growing specter of shame, guilt, remorse and deep regret. How, he wondered, could he ever make up for the things he hadn't even done? For, in truth, when he faced Letitia again, he would surely stand condemned for his wicked thoughts alone, for the visions that heated his soul when he gazed on DeFloraine-Marie in this candle-scented room.

“Please, Master Finn, you mustn't stare. That is not the proper thing to do.”

“I surely didn't mean to,” he said. “Coming in from the dark, into the light, you see… “

“Yes, I expect that's so. I hope you don't have a fever. I keep it rather warm in here.”

“No, truly, it's very nice, just right for me. Some people like it cooler, I like it—warmer than others do. Not overly warm, you understand, sort of, what it is now… “

“Make yourself at ease, Master Finn. I'll see to some hot spice tea.”

Just what I need, some hot spice tea…

Finn watched her vanish past a veil of fabric fine as spider silk, watched her disappear past another cloudy weave, and another after that, each no more substantial than a lance of morning light.

Watched, and wondered if creatures of the female persuasion were endowed with some fine hydraulic parts, some wondrous gears than made them move like that.

Finn sat.

There were colorful pillows spread about the room. No table, no chairs. Only a sea of soft cushions and walls of airy veils. Some sweet aroma of the East lingered upon the air.

Candles, pillows, rare exotic scents, and a very leggy nymph. What happened, Letitia, is I got lost from Julia, I can explain all this…

T
ELL ME ABOUT YOURSELF, MASTER FINN. I AM SO
pleased you're here. We never have guests. Father doesn't like anyone, you know.”

She was there, close beside him, before he could blink. She might have drifted in on a breeze.
A gnat could sneeze
, he thought,
and make more noise than DeFloraine-Marie.

“There's not much to tell, truly. I'm just—you know, me. I make lizards, that's about it. Lizards that pick up about the house, lizards that—”

“Tell me about Letitia Louise.”

That threw him off guard, and the smile at the corner of her mouth told him this was clearly her intent.

“I have no idea what it is you want to know. Whatever it is, I feel you should ask her yourself.”

The girl threw back her head and laughed.

“There's no need for that. You've told it all, you see.”

“And what might that be?”

“That she is more than your Mycer servant girl. Not that I'm greatly surprised.”

Finn took a breath. “And if that were so, is it some concern of yours?”

“It might be, Master Finn.” She leaned in close, so close he could breathe the fresh scent of her hair.

“I hope you don't hold human ladies in disdain. Do you find some fault, some blemish in me?”

“Of course I don't. I think you look fine.”

“Indeed?” She slid one hand across her bare shoulder, across her shapely arm. “I fear I don't have any
down
, any pink and pointy ears… “

Finn felt the color rise to his cheeks and quickly looked away to hide his anger. Here was another, then, one of the great horde who lashed out at others to hide the emptiness in themselves.

“I'm afraid I must pass on the hot spice tea,” Finn said, coming to his feet, “thank you all the same.”

“Doesn't matter, I'm all out of tea.”

“Ah, well then.”

DeFloraine-Marie looked up and held him with her startling blue eyes.

“I hope you don't take me for a fool. You have looked me up and down, you have scarcely missed an inch, and
there's little more to see. You find me sweet, you find me fair. I know your desires, yet you dare not loose them, for you know where they would lead.”

She smiled, then, a smile that tantalized, teased, tempted and promised, and all the while was only a mask for her contempt.

“What are you waiting for?” she said, as if she was startled to find him there. “You really must go.”

“As you said, I do find you fair, lady, I am certain that any man would. But you are right, there is nothing for me here.”

He stopped at the door. She was already somewhere a thousand miles away. He turned, and vowed he would not look back at her again…

I
SEE YOU FOUND YOUR WAY BACK,” JULIA SAID. “YOU
might have let me know you weren't coming, Finn.”

“The King let me out the wrong door, all right? What are you complaining about? You got here by yourself.”

“Interesting scent,” Julia said, lifting her silver snout. “My, a veritable garden of new aromas. Silk. Satin. Candles. A great deal of skin…”