Faerie Wars

Twenty-six

Pyrgus had the impression of an open trapdoor with stone steps leading downwards, but his mind was no longer working. He felt as if it had been pushed into a tight, dark corner of his skull and locked there like a small, furry animal in a cage. He could still see through his eyes, still hear through his ears, but everything was at a distance, as if he was looking through the wrong end of a telescope. Nothing was important any more, not where he was going, not getting back to the palace, not his father, not his sister, not his new friend Henry. His thoughts crawled through treacle and were blurred around the edges, slipping and sliding away from him every time he tried to use them. His memory had collapsed and his head ached. He was no longer sure where he was before he got here or even who he was exactly. If he concentrated really hard he could recall his name, but not much else.

The demons led Pyrgus along a stone-flagged passageway that seemed to be illuminated only by a greenish fungus clinging to the walls. The light level was so low he stumbled constantly, although the demons themselves didn't seem to have much trouble. He could hear them oozing and chittering along the edges of his mind. The slime-mould had withdrawn a little, but he knew it was still there with the others, ready to pounce at the first hint of him trying to break free. Pyrgus couldn't fathom that. Why would he try to break free?

The passageway led into a maze of galleries with corridors and tunnels branching off in all directions. Most of them looked the same to Pyrgus, but the demons never hesitated. The colour of the light began to change, sliding from the bilious fungus-green into a softer, rosy hue, but he couldn't understand where it was coming from. At the same time the temperature seemed to be rising, a little at a time, until he found himself sweating. There was an increasing smell of sulphur in the air that was vaguely familiar, although he couldn't remember why.

They emerged from the maze after more than an hour. An odd thought occurred to Pyrgus. An invading army could wander for months in that labyrinth. Had it been built for just that purpose – as a protection for the place where the demons lived? Pyrgus didn't know and didn't really care.

They were standing in a cavern so vast Pyrgus couldn't see the other side. Before them, stretched out across the cavern floor, was an underground city, laid out in a mirror image of the ruined city he'd seen above. But this city was made from gleaming metals, not stone, and in far better repair. The polished surfaces reflected the dim red light, yet the whole city was somehow in shadow. Pyrgus didn't care, any more than he cared about the heat. Pyrgus didn't care about anything much.

The demons marched him through the gloomy streets towards the central plaza. In his drifting thoughts he mused about the demon world. Demons kidnapped people all the time and flew them off in metal ships. Somebody had told him that, although he couldn't quite remember who. Six million people called Americans were missing. He wondered why the demons wanted so many. Perhaps they were food. He wondered if an American would taste as good as a potato crisp.

There were demons on the streets, but none stopped to look at him.

In the centre of the plaza was an enormous dome-shaped building that extruded a metal ramp as they approached. It looked so friendly and inviting that Pyrgus almost broke into a run, but the slime-mould at the edges of his mind reached out and quickly pulled him back. His thoughts clicked into gear. They were all going to see somebody important. He stepped on to the ramp and forgot what he was thinking.

As they entered the building he saw there was machinery in the walls. How weird was that?

In the gently wafting thistledown that had replaced his mind, a new thought appeared. Nobody who was kidnapped by demons ever got back to their own world. The slime-mould seized the thought at once and threw it out. What a totally stupid thought that was! Demons only wanted to be friends.

The demons led him through into a large, high-ceilinged chamber (throne room? Situation Room?) where a red-robed demon studied a large map spread across a metal table.

The creature looked up as they entered. 'Crown Prince Pyrgus,' it said smoothly. 'How good of you to visit us.'

The world snapped into sharp focus as Pyrgus's mind cleared. He was in Hael, the demon world. He had no idea how he'd got there, but it was the only thing that made sense. Somehow Mr Fogarty's portal must have sent him here. He remembered the smell of sulphur and the barren desolation, the sullen, stark, unmoving sun, the rosy light, the metal city – he had to be in Hael.

Without the slightest hesitation, Pyrgus hurled himself at the demon in the scarlet robe… and found his body wouldn't move.

'Don't upset yourself, Pyrgus,' the demon said. 'It will be easier on you if you avoid aggressive actions. And more convenient for me.'

If he couldn't move, could he talk? There were things he needed to know if he was to have any chance of getting out of here. 'How do you know my name?' he asked. It came out slightly slurred, but otherwise just fine.

The scarlet demon stared at him with huge dark eyes, but made no attempt to control his mind again. 'We've met before.'

Pyrgus blinked. He had no memory of ever seeing this creature.

'Don't you remember?' the demon asked, picking up his thoughts. 'Well, perhaps that's understandable. I looked a little different then.'

To Pyrgus's astonishment the creature began to expand in all directions. It grew upwards to a height of six feet… seven feet… eight feet and more. Its body burst out of the scarlet robe and took on slabs of rippling muscle. Its skull distorted and its face changed. Ram's horns erupted from its forehead and curled powerfully to frame the side of its head. 'Does this refresh your memory?' Even the voice had changed. The smooth, well-modulated tones now rumbled like a thunderstorm.

Pyrgus's mouth opened and closed like a fish. It was the creature Brimstone had called up, the creature that had tried to kill him just before his father's guards arrived. 'You're – you're – '

'Prince Beleth at your service!' laughed the demon.

The transformation was astonishing. 'Is that the way you really look?' asked Pyrgus.

Beleth shook his head. 'Of course not. All this is just part of the show we put on for old fools like Brimstone. He believes he's a Master of Illusion, but he never thinks to question what he sees himself.' The huge form began to shrink until Pyrgus was again faced with the creature in the scarlet robe. Somehow it looked no less scary than the thing with horns. This Beleth was a formidable opponent however he looked.

'Why, thank you,' Beleth said, again demonstrating how easily he picked up Pyrgus's thoughts. He glanced down at the map, then back at Pyrgus. 'I expect you'll soon be wondering how you got into this mess.'

Pyrgus, who'd started to wonder how he'd got into this mess, felt a nasty little chill crawl up his spine. How could you get away from something that read the plans in your mind as you were making them?

'Not very easily,' Beleth told him. 'So why don't you stop worrying about getting away and in return I'll satisfy your curiosity about one or two things that have been troubling you. How about that, Prince Pyrgus? Do we have a bargain?'

Pyrgus found his headache was getting worse. He didn't like the thought of making bargains with a demon, but just at that moment he couldn't figure out what else he was supposed to do. Clearly he couldn't get away just now, whether he worried about it or not. Besides, he was curious about how he'd managed to end up here and a few other things besides. Starting with why Brimstone had been so anxious to sacrifice him to this creature.

'Well,' said Beleth, 'let's deal with how you got here first and I'll tell you about Brimstone in a moment -save the best for last, so to speak. You're here because we interfered with your portal – that's why you're here. Not many people know we can do that.'

Pyrgus certainly hadn't known. He'd never heard a hint of demons interfering with portals before. He wondered if -

Beleth said, 'We're the ones who sent you off course when you tried to translate to the Analogue World. We had help, naturally. We needed to know House Iris portal coordinate settings. Catching you this time was a lot easier – we already knew the coordinates for your return so it was only a question of watching for the signal and diverting you as you stepped through.'

'But why?' Pyrgus asked.

'Because Brimstone didn't manage to fulfil his contract,' Beleth explained patiently. He smiled, showing little demon teeth. 'So now I have to do the job myself.'

'Just seven groats a week,' the old woman cackled. 'Won't find anything this good for the money anywhere in the realm, young man.' She grinned toothlessly and a knowing look crossed her features. 'Or as private.'

Brimstone stared at his new lodgings with distaste. They consisted of one filthy room with a shuttered window. The bed was a heap of vermin-ridden straw in a corner. The only furniture was a rickety table and a single wooden chair. From now on he would sleep here and eat here – 'Meals is extra,' the old woman added, as if reading his mind.

– – and venture out only after dark. 'I'll take it,' he told the harridan. He tossed her a few coins. 'Here's a month in advance – now piss off.'

She tested two of the coins between her gums and presumably found them satisfactory. 'Thank you, sir,' she said. The knowing look returned. 'Rest assured no one will know you're here, sir. Not while there's breath left in my body. Guarantee my tenants privacy, I do. Guarantee it.' She hesitated at the door. 'Bone gruel for supper,' she said. 'Very nourishing.'

Brimstone turned away as she closed the door and opened the shutter a crack. His room looked out on to an open sewer. He closed the shutter again. At least no one was likely to break in through the window. He went to the table, sat on the chair – which was hideously uncomfortable – and carefully counted the gold coins he had left. He could stay here for quite a while at seven groats a week if the bone gruel didn't kill him off, but he'd have to come out of hiding eventually.

He just hoped Beleth wouldn't still be looking for him when he did.

Pyrgus felt like a balloon tethered to Beleth by an invisible cord. Demons prostrated themselves as their Prince strode through the city streets. Pyrgus followed no more than a pace or two behind, but seemed to be floating rather than walking. His mind was racing now, even though he knew Beleth could pick up every thought.

'Patience,' Beleth cautioned over his shoulder. 'All will soon be clear. And rest assured I shall tell you everything. It's such a delicious plan, I've been dying to tell somebody. Of course I couldn't until now in case word got out. But since you're captive here now, I can tell you all. It's quite, quite marvellous!'

They crossed the perimeter of the city and stepped on to a gloomy metal plain. Stretched across it for as far as the eye could see were rank upon rank of heavily armed and armoured demons. They carried fire lances, stun wands, rocket launchers. They wore bandoleers of laser grenades and biological spell cones. Servo-assisted boots meant they could leap for fifty yards or more. Helicopter backpacks would enable them to fly. They were the most fearsome fighting force Pyrgus had ever seen.

'Salute the troops,' said Beleth.

Pyrgus felt his arm move of its own accord until it snapped off an awkward salute. As it fell back to his side, Beleth said, 'This is what it's all about.'

Pyrgus stared out across the vast army and tried to make sense of it all. 'You're expecting trouble?' he ventured. He wondered if Hael might be threatened with invasion.

'You could say that,' Beleth told him. 'Although expecting isn't quite the right word. It's trouble we shall be starting soon. With a little help from our friends. That's what your song says, isn't it?' He caught the confusion in Pyrgus's mind. 'Well, perhaps it's an Analogue World song. I know I heard it somewhere. No matter. The point is any day now decades of careful planning will bear fruit. There are going to be… changes… in the Realm of Faerie.'

Pyrgus definitely was floating. When he looked down he could see his feet were nearly six inches off the ground. Beleth towed him like a child's toy through the ranks of stone-faced demons. The smell of brimstone was exceptionally strong here, intermingled with the heavy scent of cordite, as if wars and armies were particularly demonic things. Which they probably were, Pyrgus supposed.

'How do you get on with your father?' Beleth asked.

'Very well,' Pyrgus answered loyally, although it was far from the truth.

'I ate mine,' Beleth told him. 'He got old and feeble and useless, but he wanted to hold on to power. So I took steps. Tasted disgusting – stringy, tough, smelly… you know how fathers are – but it's the custom here. You're supposed to absorb the essence that way. Rank superstition, of course, but, well… tradition.' He shrugged.

'So you became King of Hael?' Pyrgus said. He had an idea that if he could keep Beleth talking, the demon might not take time to read his thoughts.

'Prince of Darkness,' Beleth told him. 'The title is Prince of Darkness. We've never had a king here, or an emperor – prince is the highest rank. I was a duke when I ate him. Anyway, the point is when I became Prince, there were a few changes round here, I can tell you. This place had stagnated for centuries. But I made plans, Crown Prince Pyrgus. Would you like to hear about the plans I made?'

'Yes, please,' Pyrgus said eagerly. Maybe it was his imagination, but the more Beleth talked the more his control over Pyrgus seemed to be easing. Pyrgus still couldn't do anything and he had to be hideously careful about everything he thought, but in time…

'I made plans to expand my sphere of influence. That's the way they put it, isn't it? Nobody talks about conquest, loot and pillage any more, although it's much the same thing and such fun. Perhaps since we're friends now, I should speak plainly. I made plans to conquer, loot and pillage the entire Realm of Faerie. And after that to march my legions into the Analogue World, although that's not really your concern. In short, Pyrgus, I made plans to become the greatest Prince of Darkness the universe has ever known.' He stopped, black eyes shining.

After a moment, Pyrgus said encouragingly, 'Wow, how were you going to do that?'

'We demons have had a long relationship with the Faeries of the Night – a little help here, a sacrifice there, the occasional blood contract. You know that, of course. What you may not know is that only months ago I personally negotiated a secret treaty with one of the more powerful Nightside leaders – '

'Lord Hairstreak!' Pyrgus exclaimed.

'Precisely!' Beleth nodded. 'What an intelligent young man you are – you would make an excellent demon. As you say, Lord Hairstreak. He has ambitions to conquer, loot and pillage the entire Realm of Faerie himself and I agreed to help him. Specifically, Pyrgus, I agreed to add my forces to his when he launched an attack on the ancient Administration of the Light. In short, your father's Government. That attack is now imminent.'

'Hairstreak is going to declare war on my father?'

'Perhaps not declare. One would prefer an element of surprise. But he is certainly going to wage war and these stout fellows all around you will help him win it.'

This was no longer a game to keep Beleth talking. Pyrgus was chill as an icicle. He knew there had been some trouble with the Faeries of the Night, but it had never occurred to him the situation was so serious that it threatened war. And with Beleth's legions allied to the Nightside, it was a war his father could not win. Furiously he fought the panic rising through his thoughts. 'Hairstreak plans to overthrow my father?'

'Yes.'

'And declare himself Purple Emperor?'

'Something like that.' Beleth smiled benignly.

After a stunned moment, Pyrgus said, 'Our people will never stand for it!'

'They may have to when they lose the war. But you are quite right to suggest they will not like it. Hairstreak knows that, of course, which is why he asked me to murder you.'

'Hairstreak asked you to murder me?' Pyrgus echoed.

'Nothing personal,' said Beleth. 'It's only politics.'

Beleth's control was definitely slipping. Pyrgus had both feet on the ground now and the sensation of floating had all but gone. None the less he followed the Demon Prince willingly as they left the military field and re-entered the great, gloomy, metal city. Escape was useless to him now, even if he managed it. Before he took any action at all, he had to find out everything that was going on.

Luckily Beleth seemed happy to talk. 'The point, of course, is that you are Crown Prince, the legitimate heir to the throne should anything… unfortunate befall your father.'

Frowning, Pyrgus asked, 'You mean like getting killed in the war?'

Beleth glanced back at him in surprise. 'Oh, no -your father won't be killed in battle. That would make him a martyr. He must be killed before hostilities break out. And so, I fear, must you.'