Herbie Brennan - The Purple Emperor

The real problem was that they were just too small. Henry had been measured for his Knight Commander gear the day Pyrgus had presented him with his dagger, but the costume had been tailored while he was at home in the Analogue World. Today was the first time he'd tried it on and there was definitely a mistake in the britches. They were too tight across his bottom, too tight around his waist and when he pulled them on eventually by sucking in his gut, they were a good six inches short on both his legs.

Slowly, he forced one button after the other – the Faerie Realm had never taken to zips – his fingers trembling with the effort. With every one he closed, the wedgie pressure at the crotch increased. He suspected walking was going to do him a serious injury and sitting down would likely lead to something worse.

'Better get a move on, Henry,' said Mr Fogarty. 'The Royal Barge has already left.'

'These breeches are too small.'

'Yes,' said Mr Fogarty. 'You look a bit of a prat.'

Although Henry would have amputated his ankles rather than admit it, Mr Fogarty himself looked magnificent. He'd exchanged his Gatekeeper robes for the dress uniform that went with one of his lesser titles -Lamed Wufnik of God and Realm. It was cut from blue velvet and worn with white, knee-length socks and buckled shoes. When he tried on his tricorn hat, Henry thought he was the image of Lord Nelson.

'I'm worried about sitting down,' Henry said.

'Do you have to sit down?'

I don't know. Nobody told me what happens in the ceremony. Do you know?'

'Like I'd ask you if I knew. How do I look?'

'All right,' said Henry grudgingly.

The Silk Mistresses had made Blue a new gown which they insisted was more appropriate for the occasion -an elaborate creation with an ultra-violet sheen that gave the illusion of folded wings. She stared at her reflection and decided it made her look taller, probably no bad thing in the circumstances, but that it didn't suit her quite as well as the other one. She was about to pull it off when Comma burst in, looking like a moonbeam.

'Don't you ever knock?' Blue hissed. 'I could have been naked!'

'Well, you weren't,' Comma muttered, scowling. Then he brightened. 'Can I go on deck, Blue, and wave to the people?'

'Yes,' Blue said.

'Do you think Pyrgus would mind?'

'Why don't you ask him?'

'I don't want to,' Comma said. He caught sight of himself in the mirror behind Blue and preened. He was dressed in white from head to toe – white shoes, white socks, white britches, white shirt, white cap. 'I'm going to wear this all the time,' he said. 'Not just at the ceremony.' He turned to his left, then turned to his right. 'I think it suits me.'

'You'll never keep it clean,' Blue muttered.

‘I’ll use spells,' Comma said. 'You can give me the money.'

Blue glared at him. 'Why don't you just go and prance about on deck. I'm not ready yet and we'll be docking in a minute.'

'We won't be docking for hours,' Comma said. 'They haven't even opened the bridge for us yet.'

As the barge approached, the Keeper and his Team marched along the centre of Lohman Bridge in fine order, their way cleared by an escort of purple-liveried Guardsmen. Safety regulations insisted the bridge was out of bounds to the public until the barge passed through, but the public had piled on anyway.

The Keeper stopped before the massive mechanism. At his signal, one of his Team hoisted a plain cyan flag. On the water below, the State Barge stopped dead and hovered like some great, wonderful waiting beast.

'Places,' snapped the Keeper.

His men moved with mechanical precision to the accompaniment of a few ironic cheers. Three went directly to the Great Wheel. All the others manned the network of ropes and cables attached to it.

'Action,' called the Keeper. Like his Team, he was dressed in a style that had gone out of fashion a thousand years ago.

The men on the ropes began to pull while the others strained at the Great Wheel. The watching crowd fell suddenly silent. Tradition was king on the day of a Coronation: ancient machinery, part of the original bridge, had to be used.

The trouble was, despite constant care and attention, there was no guarantee the ancient machinery would actually work. The Coronation of Good King Glaucopsyche had been delayed for two weeks while mechanics toiled around the clock to get the Great Wheel functioning again.

For a moment it looked as if history might repeat itself, then, with a deep, ominous creaking sound, the Wheel began to turn. The crowd cheered and shouted encouragement to the straining men. The bridge trembled underfoot, then moved.

A momentous cheer erupted.

On the barge below, a white figure emerged on deck and waved. The cheering redoubled. The bridge began to split in two. There was a minor panic as spectators scrabbled to get to one side or the other before the chasm widened, but for once nobody fell into the water. To howls of delight and roars of approval, Lohman Bridge opened.

The Royal Barge resumed its stately pace and passed slowly through.

'Did you see that?' Comma exclaimed excitedly. 'They loved me! They all cheered and waved! This was the best idea I ever had!'

'For heaven's sake!' Blue hissed through gritted teeth. 'Have you no idea, no idea at all, about privacy? And it wasn't your idea, not even slightly.'

Comma said thoughtfully, 'You look nice in that thing.'

'Do I?' Blue asked. 'You don't think it makes me look too old?'

'What are you going to do with that thing during the ceremony?' Mr Fogarty frowned.

'Are you talking about me?' Flapwazzle asked aggressively.

'Are you talking about Flapwazzle?' Henry asked aggressively. 'He's not a thing.'

Mr Fogarty shrugged. 'The endolg. What are you going to do with him during the ceremony?'

'He's not staying behind,' Henry said.

'I'm not staying behind,'. Flapwazzle confirmed.

'Did I say you should? It's just -' Mr Fogarty shrugged again, 'he's a bit smelly and you're leaving it a bit late to give him a bath.'

'Good grief,' Flapwazzle exclaimed. 'He's telling the truth -1 am a bit smelly.' He started to undulate across the floor.

'Where are you going?' Henry asked in alarm.

'I'm perfectly capable of giving myself a bath,' Flapwazzle said.

The barge was sailing along Cheapside, rather more distant from the river bank now for fear of missiles from the anti-royalist element in the district. But so far as Pyrgus could see, there was no sign of any trouble. The shoreline was a waving mass of miniature House Iris flags and the cheering was so loud it actually echoed back from the massive warehouse buildings on the other side of the river.

Pyrgus wondered if Henry's idea would really work.

'Do you think my idea will really work?' Henry asked. It had all gone so fast and now, suddenly, he needed reassurance.

'Nothing else was going to,' said Mr Fogarty. 'And you have to admit it'll be interesting. Especially when Hairstreak discovers what's happening.'

'Do you think Lord Hairstreak's still alive?'

'I know it. Cynthia's people reported he was in his place at the Cathedral just before first light. Take more than a demon invasion to kill off that little slimeball.'

'What if he tries to cause trouble?' Henry asked.

'You leave Hairstreak to me,' Mr Fogarty growled.

Flapwazzle slid under the door in a perfumed cloud. 'Our ouklo's here,' he said.

'Best go then,' Mr Fogarty said. 'Wouldn't do to get there after the Royal Barge.' He glanced at Henry's britches. 'You'd better travel standing up.'

'Blue,' Comma said, 'why did the demons attack Uncle Hairstreak's house?'