The Faeman Quest Page 6

  Blue shrugged. ‘I’ll just tell her to go.’

  Henry leaned towards her. ‘And what happens if she doesn’t want to go?’ he whispered. ‘What happens if she likes being Queen? What are you going to do then – kill her?’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ Blue told him sharply. All the same, he knew from her expression the question had shaken her.

  Henry moved to press home his advantage. ‘Suppose she decides to have you put in jail? The Palace guards will do what she tells them. They may be a bit confused, but they’ll obey her, especially if she’s sitting on the throne or wearing your crown. She could take the whole Realm away from you just like that!’ He clicked his fingers.

  Blue stared at him. After a moment, she said, ‘We can set up safeguards. I’ll talk to Madame Cardui.’

  ‘There’s another thing,’ Henry told her.

  ‘What?’ Blue asked impatiently. She clearly disliked being brought down to earth about her little scheme.

  ‘While you’re off looking for Mella,’ Henry said carefully, ‘what am I supposed to do about my … ah … duties?’

  ‘Your duties?’

  ‘Keep your voice down!’ Henry whispered. ‘You know, my … duties.’ He cleared his throat and swallowed. ‘My … marital duties.’

  Blue was looking at him in astonishment. ‘Your marital duties?’ The look dissolved into a grin and she giggled. ‘Your marital duties?’

  ‘Will you keep your voice down!’ Henry hissed. ‘If we’re to pretend your doppleganger is you, if we’re to do that and nobody is to suspect, then she and I would have to … you know …’

  ‘No, I don’t know,’ Blue said loudly. ‘What would you and she have to do?’

  ‘Share the same quarters,’ Henry told her. ‘Share the same bedroom. For heaven’s sake, Blue, you haven’t thought this through at all!’

  ‘Henry, there’s no way you and she are going to share the same bed, even if she looks like me.’

  ‘I didn’t say bed, I said bedroom.’

  ‘Yes, but you meant bed, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ Henry said. ‘Yes, I did. If this lunati—’ He caught himself in time and hurriedly amended, ‘– if this idea of yours is going to work, I will have to behave towards your doppleganger exactly the same way I behave to you. Exactly. Otherwise people will notice, start asking questions, start wondering what’s going on. So she and I would have to be … you know … affectionate with one another. Kiss each other occasionally, like we do. Hug and stuff. Sleep … sleep together. With one another. The way we do.’

  Blue looked at him innocently. ‘And you think of all that as your marital duty?’

  ‘Well, not duty, exactly. That’s just a turn of phrase. But it’s the sort of thing that would be expected.’ He looked at her soberly, then ended piously, ‘And I don’t want to sleep with anybody but you.’

  ‘Relax, superstud,’ Blue said cheerfully. ‘All that’s been taken care of.’

  ‘Yes, but people will expect –’ He stopped as a man walked out of the adjoining dressing room, wearing Henry’s dressing gown.

  ‘It won’t be just me looking for Mella,’ Blue told him. ‘It will be the two of us. Together.’

  The man smiled and gave a little wave. Henry stared at his doppleganger. ‘Oh my God!’ he said.

  Twelve

  Mella gave a sickly smile. ‘Fairyland? I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘I think you know exactly what I mean,’ Aisling said. ‘You’re not from New Zealand, are you? I don’t suppose you even know where New Zealand is.’

  ‘Yes, I do!’ said Mella hotly. ‘New Zealand is an island nation in the South Pacific. It is a remote land. One of the last sizable territories suitable for habitation to be populated and settled, it lies more than 1,000 miles – that’s 1,600 kilometres – southeast of Australia, its nearest neighbour. The country comprises two main islands – the North and South islands – and a number of small islands, some of them hundreds of miles from the main group. The capital city is Wellington and the largest urban area is Auckland, both located on the North Island. New Zealand administers the South Pacific island group of Tokelau and claims a section of the Antarctic continent. Niue and the Cook Islands are self-governing states in free association with New Zealand.’ She’d memorised the speech word for word from the Encyclopaedia Britannica and could easily have gone on about the country’s geographical features if she hadn’t run out of breath. Not that it would have done her much good. She could tell from her aunt’s expression that Aisling wasn’t buying it.

  ‘Your father isn’t living in New Zealand either, is he?’ Aisling asked.

  Mella opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again and said, ‘Ah –’ She knew at once she’d hesitated too long, but by that point there was nothing she could do about it.

  ‘I knew it!’ Aisling exclaimed. ‘I absolutely knew it, the lying little toad!’ She looked around the room with pursed lips. ‘He was always the same, always sneaking away doing things and not telling Mummy. So selfish.’ She glared at Mella.

  To cover her confusion, Mella took a long drink of her tea. Her mind was racing as she tried to figure how she was going to talk her way out of this one. She stared at Aunt Aisling, eyes wide. ‘Ah … ah … I … ah …’ she said. It was funny, but just the hint of a smile was beginning to play around Aisling’s lips. A smile of triumph.

  But then Mella suddenly realised it didn’t matter. What did she care if Aunt Aisling knew she was from the Faerie Realm? (What did she call it? Fairyland?) What did she care if the whole world knew about her father? It wasn’t as if anybody could do anything to him. Mella took another swig of tea and felt a really, really nice warm feeling in her stomach. Nice warm feeling. It wasn’t as if Grandmother was going to spank him. Mella burped slightly and giggled. He was a grown man now, a big boy. No spanking for him any more. Besides, if Grandmother tried to spank him she’d have Mella’s mother to contend with. And Mella’s mother was a Queen.

  Mella took another huge drink of tea, reached for the pot and poured herself some more. Tea was so nice. It made you feel relaxed and cheerful, both at the same time. It made you feel big and strong, which she was, of course, so she didn’t have to worry about Aunt Aisling finding out anything. Not about her father, not about her.

  ‘Well?’ Aisling asked.

  Mella shrugged. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I’m not from New Zealand.’

  ‘But you’re my brother’s daughter?’

  ‘Oh yesh. That’s what Mummy says when I’ve done something wrong: you’re your father’s daughter, she says. She says father ’cause that’s what he is and he’s not her brother, of course, he’s her husband. But it’s all the same man, isn’t it? My father, your brother, Blue’s husband.’

  ‘Blue?’

  ‘Mummy,’ Mella said. She felt like giggling again, but didn’t. This had become a very serious conversation.

  ‘So you admit you’re from Fairyland? You admit you’re living there and so is Henry?’

  Mella said soberly, ‘We don’t call it Fairyland – we call it the Faerie Realm.’ She hesitated. ‘Actually, we don’t. We just call it the Realm. But it’s the Faerie Realm. And my mummy runs it.’

  Aisling looked at her sharply. ‘Your mother runs the Faerie Realm?’

  ‘Queen,’ Mella said.

  For a long moment Aisling just stared at her. Then she said, ‘This gets better and better. Henry is married to the Queen of the Fairies?’

  ‘’S right.’ Mella nodded. She wondered why she was having difficulty pronouncing her words properly and decided some more tea might help.

  ‘What about Mr Fogarty?’ Aisling asked suddenly. ‘Is he with you or is he really in New Zealand?’

  ‘Dead,’ Mella said. Single words weren’t so bad; it was whole sentences that gave her trouble. All the same, she thought she’d better make the effort to explain properly about Mr Fogarty. She took another deep, soothing, wonderful draught of tea. ‘Got sick. Di
ed. Now they have to talk to him through a Charaxes ark.’

  Aisling stared at her. ‘Fogarty’s dead?’

  ‘Yesh.’

  ‘But Henry still talks to him? Like you’re talking to me now?’

  Mella shook her head and giggled. ‘No, no, silly. That would be stupid. I told you, they use a Charaxes ark.’

  ‘What’s a Charaxes ark?’

  ‘’S a box that lets you talk to dead people. Henry – Daddy – got it from his friends the Luchti. They had one for ages and they made him a copy. Of course he was a blood brother of the Luchti. He got made one when he helped Lorquin kill his draugr.’ She smiled. ‘That was years ago. Lorquin’s chief of the tribe now.’

  Aisling looked momentarily confused, then shook her head and said, ‘You’re telling me Henry has a box, some sort of machine, that lets him talk to the dead?’

  ‘Yesh. Talk to Mr Fogarty anyway.’

  ‘And Mr Fogarty talks back?’

  Mella nodded. ‘Yesh.’

  Aisling frowned suddenly. ‘Have you been drinking, Mella?’

  ‘Tea.’

  ‘I meant alcohol.’

  ‘Tea,’ Mella repeated. She held Aisling’s gaze.

  After a long moment, Aisling said, ‘Sit there and don’t move. Don’t go away. I’ve something I want to show you.’ She stood up and hurried from the kitchen. ‘Don’t move,’ she called over her shoulder.

  Mella didn’t feel at all like moving so she stayed exactly where she was and drank more tea. The warmth in her belly – she called it belly to herself now, which was a bit rude, but a lot more friendly than stomach – the warmth in her belly, good old belly, was spreading through the rest of her body and the world, this Analogue World, looked wonderful. Even this tiny little kitchen looked wonderful. And it was truly wonderful that she’d become such good friends with Aunt Aisling, who seemed so genuinely interested in the Faerie Realm and what was happening there.

  Aisling came back, concealing something in her hand. She set it on the table in front of Mella. ‘Do you know what that is?’

  Mella blinked. She was having trouble focusing her eyes as well as talking, but even though it swam a little in her field of vision, she recognised the control at once. She made a huge effort. ‘Yes,’ she said with remarkable clarity.

  ‘What is it?’ Aisling asked. She was leaning forward now and actually seemed to be trembling a little with excitement.

  ‘It’s a transporter. Tha’s a portable portal control,’ Mella said. Even though she was concentrating very hard, she popped her Ps. But that was because of the alliteration in portable portal. If there hadn’t been any alliteration, she definitely wouldn’t have popped anything. Definitely. ‘Mr Fogarty invented them,’ she added. ‘When he was still alive, of course.’

  ‘It opens up a gateway into the Faerie Realm, doesn’t it?’

  Mella nodded. ‘Yesh.’ It occurred to her to wonder how Aunt Aisling had managed to get her hands on a portable portal control. She didn’t think her father would have given her one – he didn’t like Aunt Aisling all that much according to his journal. Besides, he said in his journal that he’d kept the Faerie Realm a secret from his family.

  ‘Do you know how to work it?’

  ‘You just aim and press the button.’

  Aisling pulled over a kitchen chair and sat beside her. ‘That’s right. Except it doesn’t work any more. Can you tell why it doesn’t work?’

  Mella picked up the control and turned it over in her hands. Her fingers felt sausagey but she still managed not to drop it. It was an early model, quite possibly even one of Mr Fogarty’s first prototypes, larger and more crudely made than the modern controls, but the basics were still the same. She slid her thumb along the side and discovered the safety switch was set to on. Aunt Aisling must have pushed it without noticing. There was no way the control would open a portal while the safety was in operation. She flicked it back and handed the control to Aisling. ‘It should work now.’

  Aisling handled the control as if it were a precious jewel. ‘All I have to do is point and press the button?’

  Mella nodded. ‘Tha’s right.’ From somewhere far away she heard the sound of singing. Sweet singing. ‘Maybe not indoors, though. Sometimes causes trouble with these old models.’ She smiled benignly. Aunt Aisling wasn’t really listening, but that didn’t matter: it was such sweet singing.

  Aisling’s eyes had turned feverish with excitement. ‘We’re going on a trip, Mella, you and I,’ she said loudly. ‘I didn’t get very far before, but now I have you as my guide things will be very different. Just press the button, do I? Just press the button?’ She pressed the button.

  A fiery portal opened in the kitchen, but Mella didn’t see it. Mella had slid gently from her chair and was snoring softly on the floor.

  Thirteen

  ‘I think of Hodge every time we come down here,’ Henry murmured a little dreamily. Hodge – Mr Fogarty’s old tomcat – had always enjoyed hanging around the House Iris Portal Chamber and Henry still missed him.

  ‘Mmm,’ Blue said, her mind clearly on other things. She looked around. ‘Where’s Chief Portal Engineer Peacock?’

  ‘Dunno,’ Henry said. ‘Listen, Blue, I think it’s time you told me what you have in mind.’

  Hodge had been an elderly cat when he first moved to the Realm, but something in the air suited him and he lived another twelve years before dying at the venerable age of twenty-eight. During a frisky moment in the interim, he surprised Madame Cardui’s translucent pedigree queen, Lanceline, and the result was four kittens who looked exactly like Hodge and were now, as adults, beginning to show Lanceline’s ability to talk. One of them appeared from behind the portal controls and polished Blue’s ankle. ‘Back in five minutes,’ it said.

  ‘Which one are you, darling?’ asked Blue, who was almost as enamoured with Hodge’s offspring as she was with Henry.

  The kittens had been christened Rodge, Splodge, Podge and Emmeline. ‘Splodge,’ said this one. ‘Hello, Henry.’

  ‘Consort Majesty King Henry to you,’ said Henry, grinning.

  ‘Cat may look at a king,’ said Splodge philosophically. ‘Five minutes. Good hunting.’ He started to walk off, looking even more like Hodge from the rear than he did from the front.

  ‘Don’t go,’ Blue called quickly. ‘Who’s back in five minutes?’

  ‘Old Peacock,’ Splodge told her over his shoulder. ‘Gone to bandage his stump.’ He disappeared behind the portal again with his tail twisting into a high question mark.

  ‘Listen,’ Henry said quickly, ‘I’m glad we have a bit of time. I understand you didn’t want to say much when there were people about, but why do you think Mella may be in the Analogue World?’

  Blue looked at him in surprise. ‘What makes you think I think that?’

  ‘The way we’re dressed for one thing.’ They both had on Analogue clothing – jeans and shirt for Henry, jeans and T-shirt for Blue. ‘The fact we’re in the Portal Chamber, for another. I didn’t really think you were planning a holiday.’ A thought occurred to him and he added, ‘No one else will either, if you’re hoping to keep this a secret.’

  ‘Oh yes they will,’ Blue told him. ‘Well, they won’t, but you know what I mean. This will stay a secret all right, at least until we find Mella. C.P.E. Peacock hasn’t really gone off to bandage his stump. I asked him to set up a lethe spell field round this chamber – I thought he’d have been back by now. But once we’ve gone, nobody will remember we’ve ever been here, including Splodge and Mr Peacock himself. With our dopplegangers in place, it will seem like business as usual.’

  ‘All right.’ Henry nodded. He’d suspected something of the sort. ‘But what makes you think Mella’s in the Analogue World?’ he asked again. ‘Madame Cardui isn’t looking there.’

  ‘Madame Cardui is checking out the political implications as her first priority,’ Blue said imperiously. ‘As she certainly should, of course. It’s just that I had reasons to believe
Mella might have taken herself off to the human realm.’

  ‘What reasons?’

  ‘Reasons,’ Blue repeated stubbornly.

  ‘Which you didn’t pass on to Madame Cardui?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Even though she is in charge of the investigation into our daughter’s disappearance?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’ Henry asked.

  For the first time Blue looked embarrassed. ‘I wanted to be sure,’ she muttered.

  ‘No you didn’t,’ Henry said.

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ Blue agreed. ‘I’m sure enough. I found Mella’s diary.’

  ‘I didn’t know she kept one.’

  ‘Neither did I until she disappeared. It was very well hidden. Guardian spells and everything. Very grown-up.’ She glanced across at him. ‘Talking of which, I didn’t know you kept a private journal.’

  Henry blinked. ‘How do you know I keep a private journal?’

  ‘Mella mentioned it in her diary. Apparently she’s read it.’

  For a heartbeat he couldn’t believe it. ‘Mella’s read my private journal?’

  Blue nodded and touched her top lip briefly with the tip of her tongue. ‘Oh, yes.’

  ‘She can’t have!’ Henry gasped. ‘There’s private stuff in there. Very private. I mean personal. Like my underwear and that thing you found I liked last summer. That’s very, very private.’

  ‘Not any more,’ Blue said.

  ‘She shouldn’t be reading my private journal,’ Henry moaned. He still couldn’t believe it. There were things in there he’d be embarrassed about Blue reading, let alone their own daughter.

  ‘No, and I don’t suppose I should have read hers,’ Blue said. ‘But I’m not going to get all guilty about it in the circumstances.’ She gave an uncertain, but reassuring smile. ‘I’m not as worried about her disappearance as I was. Madame Cardui is checking out the possibilities of kidnap, assassination and all that sort of thing, but I’m fairly sure this is just Mella being Mella. Mella being a normal teenager, I suppose. She’s started to get curious about your background. It’s what girls do about their father sooner or later. You can’t blame her.’