Of course they fit, Mella thought crossly. That’s your basic clothing spell – where have you been?
‘Look!’ In her enthusiasm Aisling jerked a drawer out of its fittings so that the contents cascaded in a glittering pile on to the floor. This one even brought Mella up short. The drawer was packed with accessories, mainly jewellery and gemstones. Mella recognised opals, sapphires, amethysts, rubies, emeralds, tourmalines, spinels, aquamarines, moonstones, agates, sunstones, turquoises, amber, topazes, aventurines, bloodstones, polished coral and garnets, jade, olivines, zircons and, most common of all, diamonds. Some were crafted into brooches, bracelets and pendants, some clearly meant as a gem dusting for clothing, but all, without exception, had been carefully hand-painted with spell coatings. As a result, they sparkled brightly, sang gently and emitted the most heavenly of scents. Some even moved sinuously or slowly revolved.
‘I just want to…’ Mella said, glancing at the door.
‘But you simply have to see this! ’ Aisling sang, flinging open yet another wardrobe cabinet. Mella groaned inwardly. ‘Shoes!’ screamed Aisling delightedly.
The cabinet had been treated so that it expanded once the door was opened, converting into storage space equivalent to a small warehouse. Within it were racks upon racks, stacked like shelves, each one displaying thousands of pairs of shoes. Pinpoint spotlights flashed on and off at random to highlight one pair after another for inspection. Mella had seen the system before, but only in commercial premises and on a markedly smaller scale.
‘You can walk in,’ she said, hoping to get rid of Aisling. She needed to think. She mistrusted Companion Ysabeau – and all the other sinister hooded Companions – with every fibre of her being. She needed to get away from her over-excited aunt and take a little planning time to herself, away from the girlie concerns of clothes and shoes. She needed to warn her parents about the invasion of the Empire.
Aisling did walk in, a trance-like, blissed-out expression on her face, and Mella took the opportunity to leave the bedroom. She was in the living area – vast, brightly lit, with ormolu furnishings and more spell coatings per square foot than she’d seen anywhere else in the entire Faerie Realm – when Aunt Aisling reappeared, noticeably taller than she’d been a few moments before.
‘Look!’ she cooed. ‘Oh, Mella, look! ’
Mella groaned inwardly. She had to stop this nonsense. They were in trouble – she knew they were in trouble – and they had to figure a way out. ‘Aunt Aisling -’
But Aisling wasn’t listening. She had put on a gold lame, off-the-shoulder, ankle-length evening gown that somehow accentuated her height even more, and now twirled in the centre of the floor to show it off. ‘See? Look at the shoes!’
Mella looked at the shoes. They were gold and jewelled high-heels and they floated – levitated – almost three inches above the surface of the floor, carrying Aisling aloft with them.
‘Aren’t they divine? ’ Aunt Aisling sang out. ‘Aren’t they just the most amazing things you’ve ever seen? And so comfortable! Honestly, Mella -’
But Mella had had enough. ‘I’d like to show you something, Aunt Aisling,’ she said firmly and walked to the door of their suite that led into the corridor outside. She waited.
‘Well, there’s no need to adopt that tone,’ Aisling said sulkily. ‘If you look in the wardrobe in your room I’m quite sure you’ll find some very nice clothes that are perfectly suited to a girl of your age. Companion Ysabeau most certainly will not have left you out, so there’s no need to be jealous. I tell you what, why don’t we both go to your room together and I’ll help you pick something appropriate. I think they’re planning some sort of reception, probably a banquet in my – our – honour, so you’ll need to be looking quite the proper little princess. I mean, you can hardly go in what you’re wearing now, can you? Much too informal.’
Mella glared at her. ‘Come… over… here! ’
Aisling blinked. ‘Honestly, Mella, I don’t know what’s got into you.’ But she glided across just the same.
‘Try the door,’ Mella said quietly.
‘What?’
‘Try the door,’ Mella repeated. She gestured towards the gilded handle.
Aisling frowned at her suspiciously. ‘Why?’ she asked. ‘Why do you want me to go outside?’
‘Try the bloody door!’ Mella hissed furiously. She’d picked up the word from her father who’d once told her it had an impact on humans that was entirely missing in the Faerie Realm, where the adjective was strictly descriptive.
It had an impact on Aisling, all right. She recoiled visibly and her expression of suspicion changed instantly to one of shock. ‘Mella!’ she exclaimed. But all the same she floated forward, circled round Mella as if she might be exuding some miasmic plague, and reached for the handle.
The door was locked, as Mella knew it would be.
From the outside.
Twenty-Seven
They were lying side by side on a four-poster bed. Henry blinked. Somebody had made it up with black satin sheets. The brocade drapes were a deep, gut-clenching red. The curtains at the foot of the bed had been drawn back so he could see part of the room. A spell-driven mural on the wall featured a classical scene of nymphs fleeing listlessly from satyrs. The carpet on the floor was a bilious yellow. He sat up and his head throbbed suddenly, as if he’d drunk himself into a hangover the night before.
‘What ghastly taste,’ he muttered.
Blue gave that funny little moan she always did when she was waking up from sleep and opened her eyes. She looked at Henry, then the curtains, then the moving mural. After a moment, she sat up as well. They were both wearing the same clothes they’d chosen for their Analogue World visit.
‘Looks like we’re back in the Realm,’ Henry said. The mural gave the clue. Unless somebody was using back projection.
‘Yes,’ Blue muttered. She swung her feet on to the floor and stood up. ‘Have you any idea how long we’ve been unconscious?’
‘None.’ Henry shook his head; and wished he hadn’t. ‘Do you have a headache?’
‘Yes.’
‘Long enough for them to portal us back and bring us here, I suppose,’ Henry said. ‘That was Chalkhill and Brimstone.’
‘Yes,’ Blue said again.
‘I thought he was insane.’
‘Brimstone? He was. Probably still is.’ She hesitated. ‘It doesn’t feel as if I’ve been unconscious for very long, but I suppose it’s hard to tell.’
Henry gathered his courage and stood up as well. His head toppled a bit, but failed to fall from his shoulders. He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again and felt a little better. ‘He used some sort of magic net thing on me.’
‘Me too,’ Blue said. ‘Standard net spell. They play Hael with your nervous system. But it should wear off quickly now we’re awake.’
They looked around the bedroom. The garish theme carried through to the furnishings, but the most noticeable feature was a mirrored dressing table that produced its own light when Henry touched the chair beside it. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and thought, despite everything, he looked rather well.
‘Positive distortion,’ Blue muttered annoyingly. ‘This is the bedroom of someone vain.’
‘Chalkhill?’ Henry said. Which would make sense since they’d been captured by Chalkhill and Brimstone – duh! But why would Chalkhill lock them in his bedroom? Why not in a dungeon somewhere? It was always hard for Henry to believe, but the truth was they were a King and Queen – well, King Consort, anyway. You didn’t kidnap a King and Queen and lock them in your bedroom where anybody might walk in and find them and there was no proper security. That was like something a child would make up as part of a fairy tale. But perhaps it wasn’t a real bedroom. Perhaps it was a dungeon tarted up to look like a bedroom. But whether real or faked, there was just one priority. He looked around. ‘The question is, how do we escape from it?’