Ruler of the Realm

Six

As the Spicemaster reached the centre of the spiral, his whole appearance changed. His back straightened. He seemed taller. The feathered cloak expanded, giving him the illusion of fearsome bulk. But far more impressive was the way he moved. The hesitant, sickly steps of the old man were gone and he strode like a warrior. He spun round to look at Blue and hissed. His eyes burned.

With a chill, Blue saw his face had changed as well. He was still recognisable – if only just – but his features were florid and swollen, his lips thickened, with a bluish tinge. Worst of all were the teeth which had, incredibly, enlarged so that they seemed almost like those of an animal. He hissed again, a long drawn-out sibilant that cut through the air like a knife. Then his eyes rolled back in his head. He began to tremble violently.

‘Spicemaster -’ Blue murmured in alarm. The dragonskin drum slipped from her fingers and rolled across the floor.

The Spicemaster’s trembling turned to something more violent, a sort of convulsion, like someone preparing to have a full-scale fit. His head began to snap back rhythmically with increasing force.

‘Spicemaster!’ Blue exclaimed again. He was dropping on all fours now, like an animal, but the convulsions were, if anything, more violent. It was the head-jerking that really worried her – the man could break his own neck. Despite a sudden eruption of fear, she started forward. Whatever was happening, he needed help.

‘Back!’ hissed the Spicemaster. His fierce eyes held hers for a moment, then the head resumed its jerking. He howled like a wolf and gripped his skull with both hands. ‘Stay… back…’ he gasped with enormous effort. ‘You… are not… safe… within the spiral!’

Blue halted, one foot just short of the entrance. Her mind was a turmoil. The spiral was nothing more than markings on the floor. Inside or outside surely made no difference. Besides, he needed help. She couldn’t let him injure himself, no matter how important this consultation was to her. All the same, she hesitated.

But then, impossibly, the Spicemaster was on his feet again and he was no longer the Spicemaster. All vestige of the old man had disappeared. In his place towered a creature of gigantic proportions. For a moment it seemed as though it might be eight feet tall and vastly bulky. The thought of an illusion spell passed through her mind, but this was no illusion; or at least no magical illusion she had ever seen. Despite everything, the Spicemaster hadn’t really changed. She could still make out the wreckage of his features, the poor distorted body. But it was as if some alien entity had got inside him and blown him up like a balloon. She half expected to see his skin crack and something huge emerge.

The creature that had been the Spicemaster began to dance.

It was a rough, raw dance, a stamping, shuffling dance that conjured scenes of swampland and evoked the rage of beasts. From somewhere on the edges of her mind, Blue imagined she could hear the savage rhythms of primeval music: click-sticks, toma and mercomba, growling voices.

The creature whirled to look at her…

And smiled.

The voice that echoed through the chamber should never have emerged from the Spicemaster’s throat. It reverberated like the dragonskin, but carried with it the infinite chill of deep space, a voice so alien, so other that she shuddered.

‘I see thee, Faerie Queen,’ it said.