Herbie Brennan - Ruler of the Realm

Hairstreak smiled a little grimly. ‘Ah, it’s Flapwoggle, isn’t it? The endolg who famously infiltrated my obsidian maze?’

‘Flapwazzle,’ Flapwazzle corrected him sourly.

‘Of course,’ Hairstreak said.

Flushing a little, Blue said, ‘I thought it might be a good idea to have an endolg present.’ Despite the embarrassment, she held her uncle’s eye. ‘For both our sakes.’

But Hairstreak only said, ‘Yes, of course,’ and gestured her towards the nearest chair.

She waited until he’d taken the other seat before she said, ‘Pyrgus told me the Faeries of the Night want peace – is that so?’

‘It’s all most of them have ever wanted, Blue,’ Hairstreak said piously.

‘And you’re now offering to negotiate to that end?’

‘To negotiate a treaty, yes.’

Blue took a deep breath. ‘Is the offer genuine?’ she asked bluntly.

She expected an angry response, but Hairstreak only shrugged. ‘The offer’s perfectly genuine. But ask the endolg. That’s what it’s here for, I presume.’

Blue flushed, hesitated, then said quietly, ‘Flapwazzle?’

‘He’s telling the truth,’ Flapwazzle said.

She suddenly realised the news had thrown her. Deep down she must have believed the whole thing was a ploy. But now, with a welling sense of excitement, the implications began to dawn on her. There was a genuine offer on the table. That meant the possibility of real peace in the Realm for the first time in centuries. The treaty negotiations were sure to be tough, compromises would have to be made, but the goodwill was there. Something absolutely unexpected had happened. She was Queen at a turning point in history. If nothing went wrong, her name would be remembered for a thousand years. It was a sobering thought.

If nothing went wrong…

She suddenly remembered Flapwazzle’s question. ‘Uncle, what backing do you have to make this offer?’

‘Enough,’ said Hairstreak shortly. ‘Every major House of the Faeries of the Night is behind it.’

‘But there are dissenters? Some Houses don’t agree?’

‘As you say, some Houses disagree, but not enough to make a difference to the outcome. If a treaty is signed under the present circumstances, it will be implemented.’

She glanced at Flapwazzle, who said, ‘It’s true, but he’s holding something back.’

‘What are you holding back, Uncle?’

Hairstreak gave a hearty chuckle that sounded entirely genuine. ‘Oh, come now, Blue, you don’t expect me to reveal my negotiating position in advance of the talks, do you? You haven’t even agreed to the basic proposal yet.’

It was reasonable enough. And he was right: she hadn’t even agreed to negotiations yet. At least not formally. In her head, she no longer had any doubt.

She opened her mouth to tell him so when there was a thunderous knocking on the door.

For no reason, Blue felt suddenly afraid. Her heart begin to thump wildly as Hairstreak strode across the room.

‘What is it?’ she whispered to Flapwazzle, who was now wrapped protectively around her feet.

‘I don’t know,’ Flapwazzle whispered back nervously. ‘It’s Hairstreak’s vampire – I can get that from the smell. And he’s worried about something: I can get that from the smell too. But I don’t know what. I can only sense truth, not read minds.’

Blue almost choked. ‘Vampire? Uncle Hairstreak has a vampire?’

‘The droopy young man lurking by the door – the one who tried to come in here. I forget what your uncle called him.’

‘Pelidne,’ Blue said. ‘Pelidne is a vampire?’

‘Didn’t you notice how pale he was?’

Blue’s voice had been rising. Now she modified it with an effort. ‘Yes, but I never thought he might be a vampire.’ Vampire servants were illegal, but it was stupid to think that would make much difference to her uncle. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I didn’t think it was important,’ Flapwazzle said.

‘Not important?’ Blue hissed. ‘He might have drunk our blood!’

‘Wouldn’t have drunk mine,’ Flapwazzle sniffed. ‘They’re allergic to it.’

Lord Hairstreak had the door open now and it was indeed Pelidne outside. He leaned across to whisper something in Hairstreak’s ear and Blue only just stifled the urge to shout a warning about the danger to her uncle’s neck.

Hairstreak jerked away as if he’d been bitten. ‘Three?’ he hissed. He glanced back at Blue through the open doorway.

The man Pelidne – the vampire Pelidne – moved forward to whisper something else.

‘I don’t like the look of this,’ Flapwazzle muttered. ‘I think we should get out of here.’ He began to climb up her leg.

Blue stood without waiting for him to anchor on her back again. ‘Our business is done here, Uncle,’ she exclaimed in her most imperious voice. ‘I accept your offer to negotiate.’ She tried to sweep from the room, an effect marred by Flapwazzle, who was clinging to her knee.

Lord Hairstreak moved quickly to block the doorway. ‘Your Majesty,’ he said formally. ‘There has been a development you should know about.’ He blinked slowly, like a lizard. ‘If you don’t know about it already,’ he added softly.

Blue didn’t, so the expression on her face was genuine. As was the panic building in her. She’d caught a hint of what Flapwazzle was sensing – he was on her thigh now, trembling slightly – and it was very frightening indeed. All she could think of was getting out of the mansion and into her flyer.

‘I’m due back at the Purple Palace,’ she said desperately, still trying to bluff it out. (Bluff what out?) ‘They’re expecting me and it’s long past Flapwazzle’s bedtime -’

Flapwazzle managed a little jump and wrapped himself around her stomach. ‘Make a run for it!’ he hissed.

She might even have tried, but Lord Hairstreak caught her arm. ‘This way, Your Majesty,’ he said angrily. He half dragged her out of the room and ten paces along the corridor. He stopped. ‘Would Your Majesty care to comment?’ he asked.

There were three bodies lying near the staircase.

At first she didn’t see anything except the limp, huddled corpses with their hideous wounds, then her eyes travelled upwards to the familiar shock of red hair.

‘God of Light,’ she whispered. ‘Pyrgus!’

She tore away from Hairstreak and dropped on one knee. Pyrgus had been thrown almost casually across a body with orange skin – Madame Cardui’s Trinian servant Kitterick. Blue felt a tightness in her chest that almost stopped her heart. Then her eyes moved to the third body.

Henry! It was Henry! She didn’t even know he was back in the Realm. She twisted to look up at Hairstreak.

‘You’ve killed them!’ she gasped. ‘You’ve killed all three of them!’

‘Don’t be stupid!’ Hairstreak snapped. ‘None of them is dead. The question is, what did your people think they were trying to do?’

Blue ignored him. Now she looked more closely, Pyrgus was breathing. So was Henry. But Pyrgus had a massive red stain oozing from his side and Henry’s hair was matted with blood. She couldn’t see the extent of Kitterick’s injuries because of the way Pyrgus had been thrown on top of him, but from what she knew of the dwarf he was probably worse off than the other two. He always fought like a demon to avoid capture.

She forced herself to her feet and turned to face Lord Hairstreak, her eyes blazing. ‘What have you done to them?’ she demanded. If Pyrgus died or Henry died she would have Hairstreak hanged and to Hael with the political consequences.

‘I have done nothing to them,’ Hairstreak said impatiently. ‘Your brother and his friends were sneaking about in my grounds, clearly intent on espionage or sabotage. They were detected and neutralised by my automatic security system.’ His lip curled into a sneer. ‘I cannot imagine they took action without your knowledge, Majesty.’