The Faeman Quest

Fifty

‘Something’s happening,’ Henry said quietly. There was no change on the Operations Table yet, but it looked like definite movement on the viewglobes. He leaned forward for a better, closer look.

There was a lot of noise in the Situation Room – people talking, people moving, people shouting orders – but Blue seemed to be attuned to him because she was at his side at once. ‘What’s the matter, Henry?’

What was the matter was that the manticores were moving. He was almost sure of it. And if he was right, it was war and his wife would vent the fury of a neutron spell on Haleklind. ‘I’m not sure,’ Henry said. ‘Maybe nothing.’

Blue stared past him at the globe. ‘You think they’re moving, don’t you?’

‘Blue,’ Henry said, ‘about the neutron thing -’

‘Don’t make this any more difficult for me, Henry. I must preserve the Realm.’

‘Yes, but not that way. Not by killing thousands… probably tens of thousands…’

Blue said tiredly, ‘Tell me another way. You were here when we discussed it. Tell me a better way.’ When Henry didn’t answer, she turned her back on the globes. ‘There’s no sign of troop movements,’ she said firmly. ‘They won’t use the manticores without conventional back-up. It would make no sense.’ She stopped to stare around the bustle in the Situation Room, then added almost dreamily, ‘I’m sure Madame Cardui will alert us to troop movements.’ Henry thought she looked exhausted, which she probably was. They’d both missed sleep lately.

He turned back to the globes. The technology was not a million miles away from what he was used to in his own world. The feed came from cameras strategically placed at points along the border. What the cameras saw could be changed, at least to some degree, by remote control. Since the equipment used magical energy, the enemy could cut no cables, could block no television signals; and the cameras themselves were so well protected they were virtually indestructible. But there were three serious flaws. The first was that the picture quality was poor. The second was that the pictures themselves were small, with no means of enlargement. (Mr Fogarty had once explained why: something to do with a geometric progression of energy needs.) The third, and most troublesome of all, was that the picture could not be refreshed in real time. Instead it reacted to the position of the moon. The result was that in certain phases, the pictures on the viewglobes ran as smoothly as a movie, while in others the update was jerkier than an old dial-up internet connection. Unfortunately they were in a jerky internet moon phase at the moment.

Blue was probably right. If there were no troops to back them up, it would make little sense to send the manticores stampeding across the border. Except that he thought he’d spotted movement close to the herd. Not troop movement, to be sure – so far there were only a few figures – but maybe the preliminary to troop movement: forward scouts searching out the best positions for an approaching army. Or maybe nothing at all, a small party of Haliklind tourist hikers who’d wandered off the beaten track. Henry shut his eyes. He really would have to stop thinking the worst in every situation. If this went on, he’d start imagining Lord Hairstreak had made a miraculous comeback and was plotting to take over the planet.

‘Excuse me, Consort Majesty, Lord Hairstreak wishes to see you and Her Majesty the Queen.’

Henry stared down at the messenger, a fresh-faced young woman in uniform, wondering if he’d misheard or was just hallucinating. He noticed Madame Cardui was standing beside the girl and switched his attention to her at once. ‘I thought Lord Hairstreak was dead – or as good as. Isn’t he on life support?’

Madame Cardui nodded. ‘He was kept alive with a Body in a Box. Nightmare existence: just a head on an onyx cube. But it seems CMS have sold him something better now – I sent a memo to Queen Blue about it. He has full-functioning mobility. Quite his old self, in fact. His old dangerous self.’

There were a lot of things Henry suddenly wanted to know. ‘You don’t think he’s mixed up in the Haleklind invasion plan, do you?’

Madame Cardui said soberly, ‘I doubt it, given his long incapacity. At the same time, I’ve just had intelligence that Lord Hairstreak came calling on the Companion Leader immediately before Mella vanished – an interesting coincidence… if you believe in coincidence.’

Blue, who had been locked in close conference with General Vanelke, was suddenly beside them. ‘What’s an interesting coincidence?’

‘Hairstreak’s here,’ Henry said. ‘He’s managed to acquire a mobile body.’ He looked at the messenger.

‘Majesty, Lord Hairstreak is seeking an audience with Your Majesties.’

‘ Hairstreak? ’ Blue frowned. ‘Where is he?’

‘Above in the Palace, Majesties, waiting in the ante-room to the Throne Room.’ The girl had an excited look in her eye. She hesitated, then suddenly blurted, ‘Majesties, the Princess Mella is with him.’

Despite the need for decorum, Henry was almost running when he reached the ante-room, but had to stop to allow Blue to enter ahead of him. As he stepped inside a pace behind her, it registered at once how tall Hairstreak had become. Madame Cardui was right: he had regained a fully functioning body, and a bigger, stronger one than the body he used to have. If it was made by CMS it had to be artificial, but it looked the real thing. The face on the old familiar head was contorted into an expression of attempted benevolence that made Henry instantly suspicious.

Then, standing to the right of Hairstreak and a little behind, he saw Mella. She was wearing different clothes to the last time he’d seen her and looked a little the worse for wear, but overall, to his intense relief, she seemed fit and healthy.

Blue must have spotted her as well, but was constrained by protocol to say, ‘Lord Hairstreak, how good to see you functioning again.’

Henry, who accepted no such constraints, ran to Mella. As he reached her, he heard Hairstreak said, ‘I have brought your daughter home from Haleklind.’

‘Indeed you have,’ Blue told him, still every inch the Queen. ‘And we are grateful. How may we express it? Will you accept a reward?’

‘Mella!’ Henry exclaimed and threw his arms around her. He’d have her grounded for a month for running away and worrying them like that, grounded for six months for using lethe on them. He’d ban all her favourite foods, forbid her use of magic, deny her all servants, refuse her new shoes, have her travel privileges withdrawn and give her a severe talking to. But all that was for the future. All he wanted now was to kiss her and hold her and make sure she was all right.

Mella hugged him back. She smelled a little different – probably hadn’t bathed in a while, although it was not the smell of stale sweat – and her eyes seemed unusually sober, worried almost, although that would easily be explained if she had got herself into trouble, since she ran away. Or perhaps she was just anticipating punishment, as well she might.

‘There is no need for a reward,’ Lord Hairstreak said. His voice had improved since he found a new body, taking on more resonance and giving him a certain charisma. ‘Mella is my favourite great-niece.’

Mella is your only great-niece, Henry thought inconsequentially.

‘Daddy, I need to talk to you,’ Mella whispered in his ear. ‘Take me out of here somewhere private.’

‘Then you must stay for a meal,’ Blue said; and you would never have thought she loathed Lord Hairstreak… or that the Realm was poised on the brink of war. ‘We have to hear the story of how you found her -’ Blue glanced at Mella for the first time, ‘- and what she was doing in Haleklind.’

Henry felt a surge of admiration for his wife. She too must have been beside herself to hug Mella, kiss Mella, find out if Mella was all right, but she was coolly, calculatingly putting her Realm duty first. If Hairstreak agreed to stay for a meal – and protocol insisted one should never decline an invitation from the Queen – Henry could imagine her subtly quizzing him about the Haleklind situation (and the reason for his recent visit) under the pretext of asking him about Mella. There was only one problem with her plan. Now Hairstreak was equipped with a brand new artificial body, had he begun to eat again? Henry was fairly sure that when the little crud was just a head on a cube, he’d lived on sunlight.

‘Daddy!’ Mella hissed urgently.

Henry turned his attention back to his daughter. ‘We can’t leave yet,’ he whispered. ‘It would be impolite to Lord Hairstreak. And your mother will want to talk to you in a minute.’ The exchange was attracting the attention of Lord Hairstreak, who glanced towards them. To his surprise, Henry noticed that his daughter caught Hairstreak’s eye and a most curious look passed between them. Then Lord Hairstreak turned away and the moment was gone.

Mella stood on tiptoe and leaned forward until her mouth touched his ear. ‘If you don’t get me out of here at once, Daddy, I intend to pee, very publicly, on your foot.’