Herbie Brennan - The Purple Emperor

He looked every inch the Emperor as he began to walk towards his throne.

'Going to have another try at killing him?' Mr Fogarty asked lightly out of the side of his mouth. 'Illusion spells or worms or something of that sort?'

Hairstreak stared straight ahead. 'Heard that foolish rumour, have you, Gatekeeper.'

'From the horse's mouth,' Fogarty said cheerfully.

'Pity you can't prove it,' Hairstreak said.

'Yes, isn't it? Still, might get the proof if you were to try again.'

'Oh, that's hardly likely,' Hairstreak said, 'so long as I have this… ' He drew a roll of parchment from the inside of his doublet.

Below them, the priests behind the Archimandrake set up a sonorous chant. Their voices swelled to fill the entire Cathedral.

'What's that?' Fogarty asked.

'Copy of the pact signed by the late lamented Apatura Iris when he recovered from his recent coma. It remains legally binding even though he is no longer with us.'

'I suppose it does,' said Fogarty.

Hairstreak glanced at him suspiciously. 'And binding on his son, Gatekeeper. Remember that. Clause Five, specific. Crown Prince Pyrgus is even named. The moment he becomes Purple Emperor he is legally bound to implement the treaty.'

'Surely not the very moment,' Fogarty said. 'Won't you even let him celebrate his Coronation?'

Hairstreak ignored him. He turned to Fogarty and gave a small, bleak smile. 'There are changed times coming, Gatekeeper. Although I very much doubt you will last long enough to see them.'

The chanting stopped abruptly as Pyrgus sat down on the empty throne. Blue moved to stand on his right-hand side. Archimandrake Podalirius loomed behind the throne.

'No doubt we'll soon find out,' said Fogarty.

The Archimandrake filled a vial from a ewer of sacred oil.

Two priests stepped forward carrying the State Crown between them. It was heavily encrusted with polished amethysts and surrounded by a purple aura.

Archimandrake Podalirius poured oil into the palm of his left hand, dipped his right thumb and used it to trace a mystic sigil on Pyrgus's tonsured scalp. 'I prepare the head that God has called to wear the crown,' he intoned.

Pyrgus looked straight ahead, his face expressionless.

From somewhere in the body of the church a female choir began to sing. Their high, clear voices swooped and dived like birds. Above them, the distinctive tones of an Endolg Chorus began a descant. A slow procession of chanting monks paced through the body of the church towards the altar.

Archimandrake Podalirius took the Purple Crown from the two priests, held it aloft, then set it gently down on Pyrgus's head. Crackling energies flowed down into his body. All sound ceased.

'Behold your Emperor!' the Archimandrake proclaimed in ringing tones.

Henry found he was holding his breath. From the corner of his eye he could see Lord Hairstreak leaning forward slightly, a self-satisfied expression on his face.

'And now the Emperor's first proclamation,' said Mr Fogarty quietly.

Pyrgus stood. The crown must have been enormously heavy, but he wore it well. When he spoke, he spoke quietly, but spell amplification around the throne carried his words to every corner of the Cathedral.

'It is tradition,' he said, 'that an Emperor must make the first official proclamation of his reign here in the Cathedral at the very moment of his Coronation. I hold to that tradition today and herewith proclaim my abdication, effective immediately, in favour of my sister, Her Serene Highness, the Princess Holly Blue, who shall, by this my imperial proclamation, henceforth rule as Faerie Queen and Sovereign Empress of the Realm, Champion of -'

Despite the spell amplification, the remainder of his words were drowned out by the tumult that erupted throughout the entire Cathedral. Hairstreak was on his feet, the parchment treaty crumpled in his fist. 'He can't do that!' he roared.

'He just has,' Mr Fogarty said mildly. Henry's idea and a very neat one. He glanced at the parchment. 'Looks like your treaty's worthless now – I don't recall anything that makes it binding on Blue.'

Hairstreak rounded on him furiously. 'It's not over, Gatekeeper. We both know what Pyrgus did, and believe me, I shall bring the boy to justice for it.'

Mr Fogarty never even blinked. 'I think you'll find the Purple Empress will pardon all her brother's misdemeanours.' He gave one of his most chilling, feral smiles. 'She may even make it her first proclamation.'

Henry wondered why he felt so miserable. Blue was Queen now, which was wonderful. She wouldn't have much time for him, of course, not with her new position and titles and being busy and so forth, but that was all right. The important thing was that she was Queen, which she'd be very good at, and Pyrgus wouldn't have to be Emperor, which he'd been dreading, and she'd pardoned Pyrgus so Hairstreak couldn't make trouble over the things Pyrgus did, which meant everything was all right and everyone was happy and it didn't matter a bit, not a bit, that Blue would never again have time for somebody like Henry who wasn't even a faerie or a hero or a wizard or anything exciting really. It didn't matter at all. It wasn't like they'd been going out or anything.

Maybe it was the thought of going home that was depressing him. The lethe cones would help, but there was still the fact that he'd got multicoloured hands, although they were fading a bit now. And there was Mr Fogarty's house to sort out. And Aisling. The thought of Aisling was always depressing. That had to be it. Nothing to do with Blue at all.

He closed the door of his palace quarters and immediately peeled off his golden britches. The relief was astonishing. He was on his way to the wardrobe to find a pair of really baggy trousers when he saw the single rose left on his table. Beside it was a tiny phial of amber liquid. Although the room was warm, the rose had dewdrops on its petals.

Henry picked up the phial and uncorked it. He thought it might be perfume, but the scent, while pleasant, proved far too mild. Cautiously he tilted a single drop on the tip of his tongue.

It was like a silent explosion. His depression disappeared like morning mist and ecstasy crashed over him. The palace dissolved into a pulse of pure white light. His soul burst from his breast to fill the universe. He was all and everything and it was bliss.

The experience lasted a lifetime and ended in a second. His hands were trembling as he pushed the cork back in the phial. As he turned it over, he caught sight of the tiny lettering engraved in the glass:

Essence of Love

Henry wondered who had sent it.