The Fire King (25 page)

It took them a bit longer to find the throne room than it had when Emily was with Corrigan. She hadn't been paying too much attention to their route when the piskie had brought her here, so they ended up taking a few wrong turns before they eventually found the corridor leading to the right room. They approached the double doors, taking in the carving of the hill with the seven trees on the top. Emily could hear laughter from the room beyond. Her stomach twisted with fear. The last time she was here, she had been tricked into stealing the seeing stone for Kelindria, something that had started off all these events. She wondered what was going to happen this time.

She paused at the doors. “Are you ready?”

Jack nodded. “Course I am,” he said nervously. “I'm Spring-Heeled Jack, remember? I'm ready for anything.”

Emily put her hands against the doors. They swung silently open at her touch, revealing the Faerie Queen's throne room to Emily for the second time in her life.

The room was packed tight with fey. They sprawled on the floor, sat at beautifully carved tables, stood around the walls. Some of the smaller fey even hung from small branches that weaved along the ceiling. All their attention was fixed on a small stage that had been set up along the right wall, where a play of some sorts was being acted out.

But Emily didn't care about the play. She moved along the left wall until she found a gap in the crowds. The throne was in the same place, on a raised dais at the opposite end of the room. And on the throne was Queen Titania.

Like Kelindria, she was beautiful. But whereas Kelindria's beauty was fierce and radiant, threatening to burn anyone who came close, Titania's beauty was somehow … calmer, less demanding. Her skin was so pure it was almost translucent, and her black hair fell down past her shoulders. She was very thin, with wide eyes that, even from this distance, Emily could see were a startling blue in color.

She sat on the throne, resting her chin on one hand as she watched the play. She looked bored.

There was a familiar-looking fey seated next to her on a second throne. He looked older than Titania, dressed in robes of white and gold. He was eating nuts from a bowl, taking up huge handfuls and stuffing them in his mouth. It took Emily a while to remember where she had seen him. It was back in Oberon's Court, the alley where she had met Corrigan after she retrieved the key. He was the massively fat fey who was pushed around on the wooden contraption. This was King Oberon, before … well, before he fell out of favor, she supposed.

Another fey moved up the steps of the dais to whisper something in Oberon's ear. The King nodded, and the fey turned around to descend the steps again. Emily's heart leapt in her chest.

It was the Dagda.

She watched him as he took his seat at the table directly beneath the King and Queen's dais. He looked exactly the same as he would two hundred years from now.

Emily finally turned her attention to the play. The actors were humans, but not one of them looked worried about the fact that they were performing a play before such strange creatures. And these humans didn't have the blank, halfasleep look of the actors she had seen on London Bridge. These performers seemed perfectly aware of who they were and what they were doing.
Curious,
thought Emily, studying them. The play they were performing seemed familiar to her.

One of Shakespeare's she thought, half remembering it from

when she attended school.

“Which one is Nimue?” asked Jack.

Emily leaned in to the fey closest to her, a squat dwarf with long mustaches thrown over his shoulder. “Excuse me, where's Nimue? I've got a message for her.”

“Shhh.” The dwarf glared at her for a second, then turned his attention back to the play.

“I only asked…,” she began, but this time the dwarf's hand moved to grip the handle of a bronze dagger that was stuck through his belt. He turned his eyes slowly in Emily's direction. “Fine,” she said. “Don't let me disturb you, I'm sure.” She moved around the wall, seeking someone who didn't look like he or she would stab her with a knife if she interrupted them.

She spotted a likely candidate. A young boy, watching the play. He looked harmless enough.

“Excuse me,” she said politely. The boy turned to face her, and Emily had to fight the desire to step backward. The boy had yellow-and-black eyes, like a snake's. And when he opened his mouth to respond, Emily could see fangs and a forked tongue inside his mouth. She should have known not to make assumptions based on looks. Not when the fey were involved.

“Yess?” hissed the boy.

“Um, I'm looking for Nimue. I have a message for her?”

“I ssee.” The boy craned his neck to get a better look around the throne room. Then he pointed. “Over there. The table by the door.”

Emily looked and saw the fey girl he was pointing at. “Thank you,” she said. “You're very kind.”

“Not a worry, I asssure you,” said the boy, turning back to watch the play.

Emily, Jack, and Wren made their way through the crowd. When Emily pointed out Nimue to Jack, he sniggered with laughter.

“What's so funny?”

“Her. She doesn't look like she's over twenty.”

“And?”

“And how old is Merlin?”

“I'm sure I don't know what you mean,” said Emily primly, putting an extra burst of speed into her step, just in case Jack tried to explain to her exactly what he
did
mean.

As they drew closer to Nimue, Emily could see why someone would fall in love with her. She looked like she belonged to the Tuatha de Danaan branch of fey, as she was tall and regal-looking, very similar to the guards Emily had seen standing at the throne room doors the time she had come here with Corrigan.

Now, here's hoping her story would work.

“Excuse me.”

Nimue didn't hear her at first. Either that, or she was ignoring Emily.

“Excuse me,” Emily said, rather louder this time.

Nimue finally turned to look at her, and Emily was forced to reassess how old she looked. Her face may have been that of a twenty-year-old, but her eyes told a much different story. They held … a lot pain, Emily thought. Many regrets. They were not cruel eyes, like a lot of the other fey had. They weren't distant. These eyes had been affected by the things they had seen.

“Are you Nimue?”

“I am. What do you want, little one?”

“Um. I'm here from the court of the Spinster Queen? In Cornwall?” Emily had heard Corrigan speaking of this before, so she thought it would add a touch of authenticity.

“I know where the Spinster Queen is from,” said Nimue wryly.

“Of course. Sorry.” Emily hesitated. She had come up with a semblance of a story that involved being an emissary of the Spinster Queen, but as she looked into Nimue's green eyes, Emily changed her mind. There was something there. Nimue didn't seem like the other fey, untouched by life. There was something almost … human about Nimue. As if she embraced life, instead of holding herself aloof from it.

“We need to talk to you about Merlin,” said Emily, praying that she wasn't making a huge mistake. “There is great danger coming, and we need to release him. He's the only one who can stop it.”

“What are you doing?” whispered Jack fiercely.

Emily didn't answer. She was staring into Nimue's eyes. She saw them narrow suspiciously, then clear slightly to show genuine interest.

Nimue glanced around the crowded, noisy throne room. Her gaze came to rest on the Queen, watching the human actors on their small stage. Emily thought she was about to hand them over, but a second later she stood up.

“Follow me,” she said.

Nimue led them through a door at the rear of the throne room. She followed a passage that eventually led to a vast open space. Emily leaned over the balcony that circled the pathway, first looking up, then down.
This must be the interior of the actual tree trunk,
she thought. She could see balconies ringing the inner space all the way to the top and all the way to the bottom, each of them filled with fey.

Nimue didn't slow down to take in the view. She walked around the empty space and through another opening that fed onto a set of stairs. At the top of these steps was a smaller passage with doors opening off to either side. Nimue opened one of these doors and stepped inside. Emily, Jack, and Wren followed after, Emily thinking how clever she had been to stick to the truth rather than lie.

So she was rather surprised when Nimue grabbed her by the arm and pressed a sharp bronze blade against her neck.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-TWO

The Queen is gone. Long live the Queen.

N
imue had led Emily, Jack, and Wren into a sitting room. As they entered, branches that had crisscrossed the wooden walls slowly unfolded and weaved together to form chairs.

“You two,” said Nimue, speaking to Wren and Jack, who had frozen just inside the room as soon as the fey had drawn her knife. “Close the door and sit over there.” She gestured to two of these newly formed seats. Jack and Wren both hurried across and sat down.

Nimue removed the knife from Emily's neck and gave her a shove. “You, as well.”

Emily rubbed her neck and sat down next to Jack.

“Madam,” said Wren,“I assure you, we mean you no harm. We are here to avert a tragedy from unfolding, that's all.”

Nimue squinted at Wren. “You don't speak like any goblin I've ever seen,” she said suspiciously.

Wren straightened up in his chair. “I have to say, I take offense at that. Are you saying that simply because I look like a goblin I can't be intelligent?”

“That's exactly what I'm saying. And what do you mean ‘look like' a goblin?”

“Oh. Ah …”

Emily sighed. She'd started with the truth. She may as well carry on with it. After all, it couldn't get them into any more trouble, could it?

“We're not actually fey,” she said. “These are magical disguises so we could sneak into the tree.”

“Explain.”

“I already did. So we could ask you for help.”

Nimue stared at them for some time. Finally, she shook her head. “I will not lie to you—you have me intrigued.”

“We have information that a fey called Kelindria is going to try to take the throne from Queen Titania. She is also going to summon something called the Fire King, and this creature will set fire to London in an attempt to burn it to the ground. We're not sure when this will happen, but definitely within the next few days.”

There. That was as simply as Emily could put it.

“How could you possibly know that?” asked Nimue.

“Especially if it hasn't happened yet? And you mentioned Merlin. What does he have to do with anything?”

“Merlin is one of the few people who may be able to stop this creature. There is someone called the Raven King we think can help, but only Merlin knows how to summon him. From the stories we've been told, this Fire King is almost impossible to defeat. Once the fire gets going, he feeds on the flames, getting stronger and stronger as the fire spreads.”

“Unless you happen to know how to stop him?” asked Wren.

“No,” said Nimue thoughtfully. “But Titania might. I know of this Fire King. It is an elemental being. It doesn't exist on this plane. It would be extremely foolish for anyone to summon such a thing. It won't just stop at London. It will carry on until the whole of Britain is devoured. Why would Kelindria do such a thing? She might want the throne, but what would be the point if she had nothing left to rule over?”

“Are you saying you believe us?” asked Jack.

Nimue waved her hand in the air. “Oh, yes. We've known about Kelindria for a long time.”

“Then why hasn't the Queen done anything about her?” asked Wren.

“We have no proof. Kelindria has many followers. If we simply arrested her, or killed her even, it would make her a martyr. She has never done anything to overtly challenge Titania. She is too clever for that.”

Nimue sat in silence for a moment. “But why would she make a move now? Even with those who have pledged their allegiance to her, they are not enough. She would need a lot more followers for any attack to be successful. Or some kind of secret weapon.”

“Like the Fire King?” asked Wren quietly.

This time Nimue actually looked slightly worried. “We have plans,” she insisted. “There's no way she would even get inside the tree.”

But Emily had suddenly thought of something else. “The Dagda.”

“The Dagda? What of him?”

“He's a traitor. He must help her get into the tree.”

“No, not him,” said Nimue.

“Yes, him. Don't ask us how we know, we just do.”

Emily stood up. “You have to take us to Merlin. He can help. Whatever he did to you all those years ago … you can't let that stand in the way of stopping Kelindria.”

A look of confusion passed across Nimue's face. “What are you talking about? What he did to me—Oh, of course. You are human. You have read the stories, yes? The legends about King Arthur and Merlin and the evil Nimue who stole his power and trapped him in a cave.” She cut her hand through the air. “Lies. All of it. There were perfectly good reasons for what happened to Merlin. And I'm afraid I do not have the authority to order his release.”

“Then who does?” asked Wren. “Because whoever has such power is the one we should be speaking to.”

Nimue nodded. “Yes, I agree.”

“Oh.” Wren was surprised. “Really?”

“Yes. So prepare yourself. You are about to meet the Queen.”

Nimue led them along the corridors, heading back in the direction of the throne room. Jack walked next to Emily.

“I really don't like the way this is turning out,” he whispered fiercely. “We're handing ourselves over to the enemy.”

“Titania is not the enemy. From everything I've heard, she tried to keep the peace between the races. If anything, I think she's the reason the humans and the fey haven't wiped each other out by now. Remember what Cavanagh wrote in his diary? That she wanted things to remain the same. Maybe by telling Titania what we know, it will force her to arrest Kelindria. Have you thought about that? Maybe just by telling Nimue the truth, we can stop the Fire King from even being released.”

Jack walked on in silence.

“She has a point,” said Wren gently. “Avoidance of conflict is always the preferable solution to a problem.”

“That's what you say. I prefer the fight myself. Gets the blood pumping.”

“You don't really believe that, do you? Think how many people could die.”

Jack's shoulders slumped. “
Fine
. No, I don't really believe that.” He shook his head bitterly. “Sometimes you're just like my mother, you know that?”

Emily blinked in surprise. Jack had never mentioned his family before, let alone his mother. Emily had always assumed that they were dead, that Jack was an orphan. But the way he spoke, it sounded as though she was still alive.

Any chance of further conversation was cut short when Nimue turned into the passage that led into the throne room. Emily filed the information away, though. She would certainly be asking Jack about it at a later stage. If his parents were still alive—well, to put it mildly, Emily would have a few stern words for Jack Doyle. And if it was only his mother who was still alive, then Emily was going to box his ears for him. She might need his help, and here he was, running around London with his gang, calling himself ‘Spring-Heeled Jack' as if he didn't have a care in the world.

Nimue stopped before the door and turned to the others. “Follow me. Don't speak until Titania says so. And be polite. No matter what you humans may think, she is our Queen and you will respect her.”

Emily opened her mouth to respond to this statement in the same way she had answered Corrigan when he had told her to respect Merrian. But she managed to bite her tongue. It didn't seem like a good idea to say something like, “I'll not give her respect if she doesn't earn it.”

Nimue opened the door and the sounds of laughter and music once again flowed out to them. The play was still in full swing, the assembled fey entranced by the cavorting actors.

The three of them followed Nimue up onto the dais at the back of the room. A few of the fey seated next to the Queen frowned at them, but it seemed that Nimue was well respected, as no one said anything to her. Emily cast a quick eye over the fey seated at the tables below the dais, but the Dagda was no longer there. That was a relief. She was worried about how they would speak to the Queen if he were there to listen. He was sure to interrupt if they accused him of being a traitor.

Nimue leaned forward and whispered into the Queen's ear. Titania turned to hear what was being said, the look of boredom leaving her face in an instant. Nimue talked for a few moments. The Queen's eyes flickered over the three of them. Her flawless face creased with a frown. She muttered something to Nimue, then beckoned the three of them to approach her throne.

She stared at them for some time. “I should have you arrested on the spot. Who do you think you are, invading our home in this way?”

“Miss … Madam.”Emily was at a loss as to how to address a Faerie Queen. She settled on the familiar. “Your Highness. We had no choice. We aren't doing this for ourselves. We're trying to stop a terrible tragedy from occurring. And the only way to do that is for you to release Merlin.”

“Yes. Nimue already said. The Fire King, you say? I really do find that hard to believe. There are only a few who have the knowledge to summon such a being, and I doubt they would be desperate or stupid enough to pass on such information.”

Emily ground her teeth in frustration. She was facing the same problem she always faced when talking to adults. They refused to take her seriously. How could she make the Queen believe she was telling the truth?

“What about the Morrigan,” said Jack suddenly. “Would she have the knowledge?”

Titania's eyes focused sharply on Jack. “The Morrigan? What do you know of the Bone Mother?”

“Nothing,” said Jack, startled at the intensity of Titania's response.

“Are you saying that she and Kelindria are in league?”

“That's exactly what we are saying,” said Emily, wondering if Jack had found a way to get them to believe what they were saying. “We've been chased by the Morrigan and her knights. Attacked by her hounds.
And
hunted by Black Annis and Jenny Greenteeth. All while we've been trying to get this information to you.” A slight exaggeration, but under the circumstances, Emily thought it allowable.