Herbie Brennan - Ruler of the Realm

A creature that was mostly arms and legs scurried forward to deposit an enormous leather-bound tome on the table. Blue stared at it with interest. This was almost certainly the fabled Book of Pacts which recorded every significant treaty the devils ever made, dating back five centuries. She’d heard that somewhere, stored in fireproof chests hidden in the deepest depths of Hael, was an entire library of such books from even earlier times. She doubted anything they recorded was likely to match what was planned here.

‘Never a contract such as this one,’ Beleth boomed, almost as if he’d picked up her thought. She glanced at him quickly, but his expression betrayed nothing. Blue forced herself to relax. This was a vital moment for the Realm.

It was time. Blue could feel anticipation in the waiting demons like a physical fog. In minutes, she and Beleth would be married. She prayed Henry would understand what she was doing.

An ancient ceremonial pen was produced now; and a sheet of virgin parchment. It was all tradition at this stage. The pen was a sharpened eagle’s quill, the parchment made from lambskin, carefully cured, bleached and dried. It had a creamy colour and a pleasing texture. The writing was black ink in a strong copperplate hand outlining the terms of the marriage contract. Once signed, the document would last for ever.

‘The Pact,’ said Beleth smugly to a murmur of appreciation from the gathered throng. In his reverberant voice he began to read it, clause by clause.

Blue paid little attention. Their agreement was simple enough in its essence. It committed her to obey her future husband in return for his protection. Obey in all things was the exact wording. While the terms were personal, the implications were political. The Pact would deliver the demons control of the Faerie Realm.

‘Do you agree the terms?’ Beleth asked her formally.

From the corner of her eye she could see Henry turn to look at her. She hesitated. Could there be another way?

‘My dear…?’ Beleth urged.

Blue straightened her back. ‘I do,’ she said.

There were howls of excitement from the assembled demons. Blue sat stiffly on her throne. She could see the look of shock on Henry’s face, although he must have known what was happening. A part of her wanted to shout to him to run, to save himself. But that would achieve nothing now.

Besides, she was certain he would never leave her.

‘Then let the Pact be signed!’ Beleth announced grandly.

The verbal agreement was nothing. Hael tradition required a written contract, signed in blood. Blue knew where her duty lay.

Heralds blew a fanfare of sinister trumpets. The sound reverberated chaotically off the surrounding metal buildings. A minion scurried forward with a razor and a tiny golden bowl.

Beleth turned to look at her and smiled. Then he took the blade and without hesitation, slashed the palm of his left hand so that a quantity of greenish blood flowed into the bowl. He seized the quill, dipped it and signed his name on the lambskin with a flourish.

The demons cheered. Beleth bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement. He smiled at her again. ‘Now you, my dear. Be brave.’

The minion wiped out the bowl with a clean piece of linen, then handed the razor to Blue.

With one last longing glance at Henry, Blue leaned across the thrones and savagely cut Beleth’s throat from ear to ear.

‘Goodbye, my dear,’ she said.

They convened in the Throne Room.

‘I don’t know what’s going on,’ Pyrgus was saying. ‘All I know is that Beleth doesn’t have real troops in the desert. Or real portals either. It’s all a big bluff.’

‘To do what?’ Fogarty asked him crossly. ‘What’s the point?’

‘You could try asking Henry – he’s the one’s been spending time with demons.’

‘Henry’s not here,’ Fogarty snapped. ‘I told you that. We were talking about Blue and he ran off.’

Madame Cardui arrived a little late. ‘Blue’s not in her rooms,’ she said at once. ‘I’m worried.’

Pyrgus said, ‘She’ll be safe in the palace.’

Madame Cardui looked at Fogarty. ‘You haven’t told him about Blue’s implant?’

Pyrgus looked from one to the other. ‘Implant? What implant?’

‘So I forget things,’ Fogarty said irritably and shrugged. ‘He’d just crashed his flier into a tree, for God’s sake!’

Madame Cardui said, ‘Beleth had Blue implanted like Henry. To give her false memories.’

‘Wait a minute -’ Fogarty said suddenly.

‘What’s an implant?’ Nymph asked. It was the first time she’d spoken since their dramatic arrival.

‘Wait a minute -’ Fogarty said again. He was frowning. ‘That’s not making sense. We assumed the false memories were a diversion to distract attention from Beleth’s invasion. But Pyrgus has just told us the invasion is phoney too.’ He stopped and looked from face to face.

Madame Cardui took it up. ‘So what was the real reason for Blue’s implant?’

‘And where is Blue now?’ Pyrgus whispered.

‘Right behind you,’ Blue said grimly.

There was blood on her dress, blood on her hands, blood splattered along her bare arms. There was blood smeared on her face. Henry was a pace or two behind her. There was blood oozing through his clothes.

‘Get Henry to the infirmary,’ Blue said.

‘You’re hurt, deeah!’

Blue shook her head. ‘This isn’t my blood.’ Pyrgus ran to throw his arms around her. She began to shake violently. Tears cut through the bloodstains on her face.

‘What the hell happened to you?’ Fogarty demanded.

Blue clung to Pyrgus and her tears turned to a ghastly, gurgling giggle. ‘I’m Queen of Hael now, Mr Fogarty,’ she said; and fainted.

She awoke in the infirmary, feeling hugely better despite the pain in her head. She raised a cautious hand to touch the bandaging.

‘It’s out,’ said a familiar voice.

Blue turned slowly. ‘Where’s Henry, Mr Fogarty?’

‘He’s fine. Had to have stitches, but he’s fine.’ He held a small metallic cylinder between his finger and thumb. ‘They planted this inside your brain. Interesting, eh? Henry got off easier. His was just lodged in his sinus cavity. Beleth must have wanted them to do two different things.’

‘Yes,’ Blue agreed.

Fogarty said, ‘There are an awful lot of demons in one of the palace cellars.’

‘They won’t give you any trouble,’ Blue said.

‘I noticed that,’ said Fogarty. He cocked his head to one side and looked at her. ‘Can you remember?’

‘Yes. Everything.’

‘Henry lost his memory when we took out his implant.’

‘It must be different with faeries.’

‘So what happened?’

Blue looked past him through the picture window into the morning sunlight. She had clearly been unconscious for hours. ‘Beleth wanted me to marry him. That way he could control the Realm. The deep brain implant meant he could manipulate my thoughts and emotions.’

‘That’s what Henry told me,’ Mr Fogarty said. ‘The business in the desert was a diversion.’

‘More like a distraction,’ Blue said. ‘He wanted to keep everyone so worried you wouldn’t suspect what was really happening. It was a very complicated plan.’

‘What went wrong with it?’ Fogarty asked.

‘I’m not sure,’ Blue said honestly. She pushed herself up in the bed and gave a small, bleak smile. ‘When they put that thing in my brain, I actually felt attracted to Beleth. But it was more than that. I thought the marriage would be good for the Realm. It felt as if it was my duty.’