Herbie Brennan - Ruler of the Realm

‘Oh, Flapwazzle!’ Pyrgus exclaimed, relieved.

‘We had a problem of protocol,’ said Mr Fogarty briskly. ‘With the Queen missing, supreme authority passes temporarily to the Gatekeeper. He can delegate it to the next-in-line for the throne, which is Comma. Do you want that? No, I thought not. Or it can go to the next closest relatives of Her Missing Majesty, which is you, Pyrgus – don’t say it, I know you don’t want it – or Queen Quercusia, who’s mad and locked up, or – and you’re going to love this one – Lord Hairstreak. Or the Gatekeeper can assume the throne himself for a period of one calendar month. I made an executive decision. For the rest of this month you curtsy to Emperor Fogarty. Any objections? Thought not. Now, what the hell are you doing to Kitterick?’

The delegates arrived at Hairstreak’s mansion grumbling, but they arrived. Most of them eyed Hairstreak with open suspicion. But their looks were tinged with respect. The assassination of Fuscus had done its job. There wasn’t a soul in the chamber who’d consider opposing Hairstreak now. Except possibly Hamearis. The Duke of Burgundy had been too close to death too many times to fear anything any more. But he nodded amiably enough as he ambled in.

Would they notice Pelidne was missing? Hairstreak felt an impotent rage rise up to knot his stomach. It was incredible to think that human child had actually killed Pelidne. And hugely frustrating not to have worked out how. Burgundy, with all his military experience, would never tackle a vampire on his own. Old Duke Electo had dispatched one once, in his younger days, but he’d only managed the job with the backing of eighteen of his best men – and eleven of them were slaughtered in the process.

Probably Pelidne’s absence wouldn’t impinge. If they thought about it at all, they’d assume Hairstreak had sent him off somewhere. No reason for anyone to suspect he was dead, and Hairstreak certainly didn’t plan to tell them unless he had to.

The really infuriating thing was that Pelidne was irreplaceable. Vampires were rare in the Realm, far more rare than they were in the Analogue World. It had taken Hairstreak years to find one – and months to negotiate a contract. He still shuddered to think of the cost. And what did he get in return? A few weeks’ service, one miserable assassination and a hideously expensive security system nobody really understood. How had the brat killed him?

Hairstreak pushed the thoughts to one side. He had rather more urgent problems now. He waited until everyone was seated, then closed the door to trigger the privacy spells.

‘Well, Blackie,’ Hamearis said cheerfully, ‘I hadn’t expected to be back here quite so soon.’

Neither had the others, by the look of them. Hairstreak decided to dispense with the usual preliminaries. ‘Queen Holly Blue is missing,’ he said bluntly. ‘Possibly dead.’ The addendum wasn’t for dramatic effect: if the boy could kill a vampire, he was capable of anything.

There was instant uproar. Hairstreak sat back and waited, scowling, as they tried to shout each other down. Eventually somebody would take charge and settle them. For the moment he didn’t wish to do it himself. Best to wait for his important move: that way it would have more impact.

It was Electo who cut through the babble with his distinctive baritone. ‘If you can all manage to keep quiet for a moment, we might find out what happened.’ Then, as the noise died down, he turned to the head of the table. ‘Hairstreak?’

Hairstreak told them succinctly what had happened. For once he kept nothing back, except Pelidne’s death.

‘By God,’ Electo snorted when he’d finished. ‘You mean to say she was in your care when this young blighter seized her?’

‘Hardly in my care,’ Hairstreak said sourly. ‘She was visiting my mansion, that’s all. She chose to come without security. I can hardly be held responsible for what happened to her.’

‘Not sure the Lighters will see it that way,’ Electo muttered.

Hamearis, blunt as always, said, ‘ Were you responsible, Blackie?’

Hairstreak managed a small, cold smile. ‘Did I arrange to have her kidnapped?’ He shook his head. ‘No, I was surprised as anyone when it happened.’

Croceus, who’d never been the brightest glowglobe in the dungeon, said frowning, ‘I don’t understand how this child got away with it. Didn’t you have guards, or locks or something? Was your security switched off? I see you’ve a new system installed – I noticed it as we arrived.’

‘The usual precautions were in place. I told you. Both the boy and Queen Blue simply vanished.’

Cardamines said, ‘I don’t understand you. You mean they used an invisibility cone or something?’

‘No, it was obviously some new spell technology.’ Hairstreak fixed them with his gaze. ‘But these are unimportant details. The fact is Queen Blue has been kidnapped – however it was achieved or by whom – and that changes the political situation.’

He thought for a moment he was going to have to spell it out for them, but then Hecla Colias asked the crucial question, probably hoping to embarrass him: ‘Why was the Queen visiting you, Lord Hairstreak?’

Hairstreak smiled at her bleakly. ‘She came to refuse our offer of negotiation,’ he said.

Kitterick’s head was rattling alarmingly, but Madame Cardui ignored it. The re-run in the reality globe was set to close-up and slow motion with the result that the figures looked like exhausted giants.

‘What’s that?’ Fogarty asked suddenly.

‘What’s what?’ Cynthia asked him, frowning.

‘That sparkle effect.’ It was difficult to see because of the angle. ‘And doesn’t Henry have something in his hand?’

Cynthia leaned forward. ‘Freeze it!’ she told Kitterick. Then, ‘Oh, yes, I think you’re right…’

‘Can we run it again – just that segment?’

‘Kitterick!’ said Madame Cardui.

There was an unpleasant scraping sound from inside Kitterick’s head, then the action in the reality globe repeated.

‘You see?’ Fogarty said. The problem was the relative positions of the people involved. Kitterick could only record what he saw, and sometimes bodies or furnishings got in the way. It looked as if Henry had taken something from his pocket, but he was sideways on so you couldn’t see exactly what. And then there was the sparkle, for all the world like the edge of a trail of fairy dust in a Walt Disney movie.

‘Yes,’ Cynthia confirmed. ‘Yes, there’s something there…’

‘Spell cone?’ Fogarty asked. He didn’t know of a spell that would let you walk out of a room while everybody in it thought you’d disappeared, but they were bringing new spell cones on to the market all the time.

Cynthia frowned. ‘I don’t think so, Alan. It seems a bit big for a spell cone. And what are those particles – the glitter? You don’t get glitter from a spell cone.’

‘New type?’

‘Don’t know.’

‘Can you go to extreme close-up, Kitterick?’ Fogarty asked. Kitterick gave a strangled gasp, but the reality globe filled with a section of Henry’s body. ‘Do you think that could be the edge of a goblet, Cynthia?’

‘Could be. A crystal goblet.’ She hesitated thoughtfully. ‘Or a Halek blade? It has the same sheen.’

‘Where would Henry get a Halek blade? They don’t make them in the Analogue World.’ Fogarty straightened his back. ‘Certainly looks like crystal, though.’ He glanced across the room. ‘OK, Kitterick, you can switch off now. Pyrgus, pull that thing out of his head before he croaks.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Kitterick croaked.

As the scene faded to black and the reality globe collapsed, Fogarty said, ‘The follower you had on Blue…?’