Faerie Wars 01 - Faerie Wars (18 page)

Everything snapped into sharp focus, but Henry, without knowing why, suddenly felt very much afraid. He stood there looking at her and all he could think was that Anais Ward just couldn't be a lesbian. She was far too feminine, too pretty.

'It's Henry, isn't it?' she said.

Henry nodded dumbly. He was still trying to figure out what he was going to say. He looked at Anais. She was younger than his mum. In fact she wasn't really
that
much older than Henry himself.

So what was he going to say to her? What could he possibly say to her?
Keep your hands off my mother?
He caught the first hint of his face flushing again and offered a silent plea to God not to let him blush. To cover his embarrassment, he came up with something really stupid. He took a deep, rattling breath and said, 'How are you?'

Anais glanced around nervously, at Henry, at the street, at the taxi driver waiting for his fare. Then she got caught up in it and said, 'Fine, Henry.' She looked almost stricken. 'How are
you?

'OK,' Henry said. He blinked.

She looked terribly, terribly pretty. She was wearing a tailored suit with sheer black tights and high-heeled shoes. She had big brown eyes and long brown hair. She wore make-up, but nice make-up, not tarty or anything. She smelled good, some sort of perfume. He liked the shape of her nose. He liked the shape of her mouth. He wondered how she would look with butterfly wings.

If he was older, he could imagine falling for a girl like Anais, asking her to come to a movie or something. He could imagine his dad falling for her, although his dad was older than his mum which meant his dad was
plenty
older than Anais. But then older men often fancied younger women and younger women sometimes fancied older men. Except it hadn't happened that way.

'Are you having an affair with Anais, Dad?'

'I'm not having an affair with Anais,'
his father had said.
'Your mother is.'

Pyrgus Malvae had to be around Henry's own age. It was hard to think of him like that, an ordinary boy like Henry doing whatever things they did in his world, but that had to be the way it was. Except he'd come through a portal and now he wasn't an ordinary boy any more. He was a grizzled skipper butterfly with a tiny human body. A cat could kill him and he didn't know how to get home. How did you help somebody like that? How did you help somebody whose wife was in love with somebody else? How did you help somebody whose mum fancied women?

Henry's eyes filled up and he began to weep.

'There's good news,' said Grayling.

'And bad news,' put in Glanville.

Brimstone watched them, scowling. He wanted to nail them to the floor and saw their feet off, but he knew from bitter experience that nothing would divert them once they started talking. It was what made them so devastating in court. Innocent men confessed to murder when subjected to their relentless double-act. But at least they were on his side.

'The good news is, we have a case,' said Grayling, smiling.

'No doubt about it,' Glanville said.

'The boy may be our Crown Prince,' Grayling went on, 'but in the eyes of the law, he is a common felon.'

'Trespasser.'

'Cat burglar.'

'In that he burgled a cat.'

'Or, more precisely, burgled you and stole a cat.'

'The law dislikes that,' Glanville said. 'Indeed, the law will not tolerate it. We have seen the judge -- '

'Indeed we have.'

'And she has ruled the boy may be seized and held awaiting trial.'

'By us or our officers, acting as your agents in your capacity as director of Chalkhill and Brimstone, the injured body corporate.'

'She has issued a warrant. I have it here.' Glanville extracted a piece of parchment from his briefcase and waved it in the air.

'How long can we hold him?' Brimstone asked.

'Oh, a very long time,' Grayling told him. 'Six months without court intervention. Then, when we bring him to trial, we may request a further six-month continuance to prepare our case. A year in all. It seemed sufficient.'

'Ample!' Brimstone exclaimed. He rubbed his hands and grinned. This was turning out to be one of his better days.

'The bad news,' said Glanville, 'is that all this good news has become quite academic.'

'Useless information. Unsupportable judgment.'

'What are you talking about?' Brimstone asked them irritably. His grin had turned to a frown.

'The warrant cannot be executed,' Glanville said. 'As matters stand it is a worthless piece of paper.'

'Worthless,' Grayling echoed.

Brimstone leaned forward. 'Why?' he growled.

Glanville put the parchment back in his briefcase and closed it with a snap. 'The boy -- or defendant as we must now call him -- is no longer in the jurisdiction. He has left this world.'

'He's dead?' Brimstone asked in sudden panic. It wasn't enough that Pyrgus died. He had to be sacrificed to Beleth. And by Brimstone. Nothing less would satisfy the terms of the demonic contract.

'Not to my knowledge. The Royal Household -on whom we sought to serve the warrant, you appreciate -- claims he has been translated.'

'To the Analogue World,' Grayling put in helpfully.

'The Courts of Faerie have no jurisdiction in the Analogue World. While he remains there, he is beyond legal redress.'

'Are you sure that's really where he is?' Brimstone asked suspiciously.

Glanville looked shocked. 'We have a formal statement to that effect bearing the Emperor's official seal. These are Faeries of the Light. They would never put a lie in writing. I think we may safely assume that if they say he's in the Analogue World, then that is where he is.'

Brimstone glared. 'We have to get him back.'

'Ah,' said Glanville.

'Ah,' said Grayling.

'What?' Brimstone demanded. 'What? It's simple, isn't it? We send some bully-boys into the Analogue World and drag him back by the scruff of the neck. Not even illegal, from what you tell me -- our laws don't extend there.'

'An admirable strategy,' said Glanville. 'But flawed.'

'Fatally
flawed,' said Grayling. 'We have no way of knowing where to find him -- in the Analogue World that is.'

'Unlike other portals, the portal of House Iris is multi-directional. They could have sent him anywhere they wished.'

'Can't we force them to reveal his destination?' Brimstone asked.

Glanville looked at Grayling. Grayling looked at Glanville. They turned together and looked at Brimstone. 'Possibly,' Grayling said. 'But if they resist, it could take some time. And time, we know, is of the essence.'

'House Iris has excellent lawyers,' Glanville said. He glanced down at the floor. They elected not to contest our warrant since they knew we could not execute it.'

'I've got spies in the palace,' Brimstone said. 'So has Chalkhill. Between us we should be able to find out his translation coordinates.'

'Possibly,' said Grayling. 'But even if we do find out, we cannot follow. House Iris owns the only multidirectional portal in existence.'

'Perhaps not
quite
the only one,' said Brimstone thoughtfully.

Even with Chalkhill's help, it took him days to get an appointment and then it was only with a lackey. Lord Hairstreak's representative was a big, unsmiling man named Harold Dingy. He wore a silver-grey suit and was accompanied by a bloodshot endolg. For some reason he'd insisted they meet at the zoo.

'It's nice to see you,' Brimstone said untruthfully, holding out his hand.

'The pleasure's all yours,' Dingy said, ignoring it.

His endolg rolled several times around Brimstone's legs before remarking, 'He's clean, boss. No weapons and just the routine spells and charms.' It spread itself out like a mangy rug and watched them both.

'Did Mr Chalkhill tell you what it was I wanted?' Brimstone asked, shouting above the noise of the parrots.

Chalkhill had long claimed to be Lord Hairstreak's friend, but if Dingy was impressed by the mention of his name he didn't show it. 'No.' He looked as if he didn't care.

This was the tricky part and Brimstone didn't really feel like shouting it out at the top of his voice. 'Can we get away from these damn parrots?' he asked.

'I like parrots,' Dingy said.

'He
likes
parrots,' said a parrot clinging to the wire mesh of its cage.

'So do I,' lied Brimstone, 'but what I have to say is confidential.'

'Doesn't want us to repeat it,' said the parrot smugly.

'All right,' Dingy said. 'We'll talk in the Reptile House.'

The Reptile House was hot and dry and played hell with Brimstone's sinuses. But at least it was quiet and lizards didn't play back what you'd said. The endolg climbed up one of the glass-fronted cages and embarked on a staring match with a cobra. Dingy glared at Brimstone.

Brimstone glanced around to make sure they weren't being overheard, then lowered his voice. 'I wanted to talk to you about--'

'Can't hear you,' Dingy interrupted.

'This is
confidentia',l
Brimstone hissed. He gestured Dingy closer and, when the man took a reluctant step forward, stretched to whisper in his ear. 'I wanted to talk to you about Black Hairstreak's portal.'

'What about Lord Hairstreak's portal?' Dingy asked suspiciously.

Brimstone looked around him again. 'I understand Lord Hairstreak may have a
multi-directional
portal,' he whispered.

'Who told you that?' Dingy sniffed.

Brimstone laid a finger along the side of his nose and tried to look knowing. 'I have my sources,' he said. His source was actually his partner Chalkhill, who'd once let the information slip while drunk. The trouble was Chalkhill let a lot of things slip when drunk that simply weren't true. Brimstone was praying this wasn't one of them.

'Somebody's been tickling your ferret,' Dingy said.

'You mean he doesn't?' Brimstone asked, then added slyly, 'It's just that if he
did
have a multi-directional portal, I should be prepared to pay a great deal of money for its use. A
great deal
of money.'

'Pity he doesn't have one then,' said Dingy. The endolg began to detach itself from the glass. It looked as if the interview was over.

'Just a minute,' said Brimstone hurriedly. 'When I said a great deal of money, I meant a million gold pieces.' He'd have to mortgage the business to raise that sort of cash, but if he didn't find Pyrgus he was dead and if he did, he'd have all the money in the realm.

Dingy stared down at him impassively. The endolg was tugging at his trouser-leg as if anxious to be going.

'For Lord Hairstreak,' Brimstone said. 'And a quarter of a million more for you.'

'You must need a multi-portal very, very bad,' Dingy said. 'Mind telling me why?'

Brimstone weighed up the pros and cons. He'd expected the question, but assumed he'd be talking to Black Hairstreak himself, not one of his stooges. All the same, this clown was probably more shrewd than he looked -- Hairstreak would hardly employ him otherwise -- so he might spot a lie. Besides, he had the endolg with him. They were supposed to be able to sniff out anything fishy from a hundred yards. Which was, of course, the reason Hairstreak used them. Not much trust left in the realm these days.