Herbie Brennan - Ruler of the Realm

… lived in it?

The more he thought about it, the more sense it made. The Fairyland of his imagination was nothing like the Fairyland you read about in books. His was full of heroes – the sort of people Henry longed to be and never was. And teenagers were in charge. Pyrgus was a prince and could have been Emperor if he’d been interested. Blue was Queen now, absolute ruler of the Realm. She could do whatever she wanted. If you were a teenage boy and needed to create a fantasy world, wouldn’t you dream up one where teenagers were in charge?

The vibration underneath his feet seemed to be getting more pronounced. How many passing lorries could there be?

Henry stared at the buddleia bush where he’d first met Pyrgus. Where he thought he’d first met Pyrgus. It all seemed so real. But then dreams seemed real while you were dreaming them and hallucinations seemed real to a lunatic.

Blue seemed real. Henry remembered the first time he’d seen her. She was stepping into her bath at the time.

Suddenly he knew where that came from. He didn’t have a girlfriend. Well, he had Charlie Severs, but she was a friend who just happened to be a girl. They weren’t an item or anything like that. They didn’t… well, you know. All the boys at school had girlfriends. Or at least went out with lots of girls. Most of them claimed they were doing it. Henry sometimes pretended he’d done it too, but he hadn’t. He was a bit shy around girls when it came to that sort of thing. He couldn’t imagine ever asking one to… But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. You bet he wanted to! Every boy his age wanted to, whether they did it or not.

There was something else. Henry would have cut his thumbs off rather than admit it, but he was a bit of a romantic. He didn’t just want one-night stands. He wanted a girl he could, you know (even in his head he mumbled the word shamefacedly), love. Run through fields of corn together, and rescue when she needed rescuing and hold hands with and bring her flowers and write poetry to and… and…

And all that.

Except girls weren’t interested in that sort of thing any more. Start writing poetry and bringing flowers and girls took you for a stalker.

So he’d dreamed up a beautiful girl to fall in love with. An old-fashioned sort of girl, a fairy princess sort of girl. And Blue really was a faerie princess. At least until they crowned her Faerie Queen. And they’d done heroic things together, like rescuing her brother. And her brother was his best friend. And it all happened in Fairyland for cripe’s sake, so he didn’t have to deal with his rotten mother or his rotten sister or any of his real problems.

Henry was moving like a zombie as he left the blue light of Mr Fogarty’s garden and walked up the street to the bus stop. There were no passing lorries any more.

When he got home, he found – despite all his mother’s promises and protestations – that Anais had moved in.

‘Who are you?’ Blue whispered. She wanted to say, What are you? but it sounded rude and possibly dangerous. The creature at the centre of the spiral was no longer the Spicemaster. It loomed like a feathered giant and glared at her like a savage beast.

‘I am Yidam,’ the creature replied.

She’d never heard the word before and wasn’t sure whether it was a name or a description. Madame Cardui said Spicemaster Memnon was possessed by a god when he made his predictions, but it was one of the Old Gods who walked the world before the coming of the Light. As far as Blue could make out, the Old Gods were so fierce they might as well have been demons. This one looked it.

‘Lord Yidam,’ Blue said, just to be on the safe side, ‘can you see the future?’

‘I exist beyond time,’ the Yidam said.

Blue hesitated. She didn’t want to irritate the entity, but it was important to be clear. ‘Can you see my future?’

To her astonishment, the Yidam smiled. ‘Come sit by me, Faerie Queen,’ it said.

There was no sound in the chamber except the beating of her heart. After a long moment, Blue decided on honesty before diplomacy.

‘The Spicemaster said you might kill me if I stepped into the spiral.’

‘The Spicemaster was mistaken.’

And there it was, laid out in front of her. Four flat simple words. Did she believe the Spicemaster? Or did she believe the Yidam? Could she risk approaching it?

It occurred to Blue suddenly that the only thing between the Yidam and herself was a spiral pattern marked out on the ground. It could have covered the space between them in a bound. Any safety she felt was an illusion. She swallowed her fear and walked into the spiral.

As she squatted down beside it, Blue realised the creature had utterly transformed the old Spicemaster. The thing towered above her and, close up, its eyes were consumed by inner fires. She fought not to shy away as it reached towards her with enormous, strangler’s hands.

But the hands gently placed themselves on the crown of her head. Blue felt the tingle of trapped lightning flowing down her spine and realised she’d received a blessing. ‘Thank you, Lord Yidam,’ she murmured. Any blessing was nice, but if the creature couldn’t see her future, then she was wasting her time.

The Yidam leaned forward slightly. ‘Thou art brave, Faerie Queen.’ It seemed incredible, but for a moment she thought the fierce eyes took on the barest hint of a twinkle. ‘But art thou brave enough to face what I may say?’

Blue blinked. The Yidam’s words were disturbing. They brought up something that had been niggling at the edges of her mind ever since she decided to consult the Spicemaster. Did she really want to know the future? A future that might include the details of her own death? Or, worse still, the deaths of Pyrgus and Henry? Could she live with that knowledge?

Did she even want to know the future of the Realm? What if the Yidam told her it would fall to enemies or demon hordes? What if it was destined for corruption and disintegration? How could she go on, knowing that all her efforts would be in vain?

But she was here and needed guidance. Which overrode everything.

‘Lord Yidam,’ Blue said, ‘what will happen if I start a war against the Faeries of the Night?’

‘Do you believe in fairies?’ Henry asked.

‘Sorry?’

Henry leaned forward. ‘Do you believe in fairies?’ he asked again, dropping his voice even further. They were sitting in a new coffee house called Ropo’s that was proving extremely popular with everyone from school. There were at least eight pupils at nearby tables (several of them dressed as Goths) and he certainly didn’t want them hearing.

‘Fairies?’ Charlie echoed, looking at him strangely. ‘Like on top of the Christmas tree?’

Henry nodded. ‘Except for real.’

‘Except for real?’ Charlie was obviously big into repeating everything he said tonight. ‘Like, little people with wings who flit among the bluebells?’

Henry gave up and said, ‘I thought I saw one once.’

‘You thought you -?’

‘Charlie,’ Henry hissed, ‘please don’t keep repeating everything I say. Yes, I said I thought I saw one once.’

‘You saw a little person with wings flitting among the bluebells?’

‘I was under a lot of strain,’ said Henry.

That caught her attention. Charlie knew all about the strain Henry had been under. She frowned. ‘Your mum’s not got you seeing things?’ She sounded outraged.

‘I think so. I mean, what else could it be?’ A thought occurred to him. ‘It wasn’t flitting among the bluebells: Hodge caught it.’

‘Mr Fogarty’s cat?’

Henry nodded. ‘Yes.’

The ghost of a suppressed smile twitched Charlie’s lips. ‘Mr Fogarty’s cat caught a fairy?’