VVVVV
Consequences Part Seven: Wind and Water (2/3)
a Gargoyles story
by Merlin Missy
Copyright 2005
PG-13
VVVVV
They stayed within the palace proper, her mother pointing out rooms, towers,
artwork, things for which Fox had no name, and giving a richly detailed story
linking each one. She wasn't really paying attention to the decorations
anyway; each turn seemed to fall in upon itself, and it was all she could do to
remember which way they'd come. Then she'd turn around and find the
passage behind her went in a completely different direction then she swore
they'd just come.
The other fay had disappeared, though just to the side of each corner she
thought she spotted eyes following the two of them. In spite of herself, Fox
stayed close against her mother as she had when she was young.
Outside, she saw the young gargoyles sleeping on the walls of the palace,
keeping silent watch over a domain that needed no protection. Even in this
place of safety, snarls and roars were frozen on their faces, daring any to
attack while they were on duty. Not for the first time, though she would never
admit it out loud, Fox felt a great deal of respect for the creatures.
"Where is everyone?" she asked suddenly.
Her mother stopped her narrative and asked innocently, "Everyone?"
Now Fox knew something was up.
"Everyone. As in all the others. I haven't seen anyone but you since we left
the room. Except for ... " She shook her head, trying to figure out
what she'd seen lurking in the shadows.
"Schleppel." Fox stared blankly. Her mother continued, "You saw Schleppel.
He's a bogeyman." Mom's voice lowered. "Don't let on you saw him; he's
very self-conscious."
"Okay. That doesn't answer my question. Where's everyone else?"
"They're holding session."
"You mean, the Court?"
"Yes." Her mother looked completely unconcerned.
Fox took a deep breath. Owen had told her time and again how patience was
considered the highest virtue of their kind. He'd also mentioned it was
practically their only virtue, and one Oberon had never quite grasped. Used
properly, he'd said it could be an advantage in dealing with the King and
Queen. She therefore managed to ask in a calm tone, "What are they meeting
about?"
"Oberon is holding open session to determine what is to be done with the
Puck."
"But we should be there! Oberon has to hear what we've got to say." She
turned, intending to rush to Puck's room, but was prevented from moving by
her mother's invisible touch.
"I know that."
"Then why aren't you there? You could ... You could ... " She stopped.
"You can't do anything, can you?"
"I can influence him, if he allows me. You might not believe this, but I've
been working on the Puck's behalf since I returned from the World. I believe
Oberon will allow him to speak."
"Then what's the open session about?"
"It will give the other Children an opportunity to voice their opinions without
risk of censure. I have already spoken with many of them in private. The
Tricksters will stand by him, save for Loki. He, Thor, and Odin would rather
Puck be sent back to the World without any further dealings. The Guides are
staying neutral in the matter."
"What about the Three Weirdos?"
The Queen's eyes sparkled. "Your sisters will certainly oppose his being
allowed to speak, and have already called for an immediate execution."
There's that "death" thing again. "Will they talk him into it?"
"Perhaps. Oberon is still angry with him. However, the other Children, and
his own perverse sense of humor, might be enough to convince him to allow
Puck live at least long enough to speak his case."
"And if they're not? If he decides to kill his son?"
"Then you will be the last one to know the full story of what became of
Oberon's younger son, and you will have to speak the words instead."
"Then he has to live." She saw a stone bench, and sat down on it, hands
clasped, staring at the ground. "I can't do it by myself. I don't know enough
about these people. I don't know what to say to convince them." She looked
up at her mother. "You were the one who didn't want me to go to law school."
"You would have made a wretched lawyer. Besides, it wouldn't have helped.
The Fairy Court is unlike the mortal one, save in one respect. The law is the
law, which is to say Oberon's word cannot be revoked once it has been
spoken, even by him."
Her heart twisted. "So the banishment really is permanent." Somehow, she
had always assumed it was a temporary thing, maybe for a few hundred years
until Oberon cooled off, but certainly not forever. That "eternally"
had meant "Eternally" had not sunk into her before, and once again she was
awed, and a little humbled, at what Puck had given up for her and David's
happiness.
"There is an old saying among magic users. The law that cannot be broken
may surely be bent. Should Oberon find it in himself to forgive the Puck, he
would find a way around his own curse. He is, after all, the King of the
Tricksters."
Fox thought out loud, but quietly. "Puck said one of Oberon's decrees was
that no fairy should kill another. Because there was a war."
"Yes. Circe had seen visions of an uprising, a champion who would tear
Oberon from his throne and create a new order. I was also granted a sign. In
the great forest, I saw a tree, older than time, struck by lightning from a
cloudless sky. Half burned to the ground, but the other half survived and put
forth new fruit in the Spring. There were a few among us who chose this to
mean Oberon's rule was ended. They took two mortal bloodlines they knew
well, and from them crafted a hero to lead their army.
"It was futile, of course. Only handful of fay were in the rebellion, for they
could not convince any others to join their crusade. There was a battle, which
did not last long. The mortals among them died quickly, including their hero.
The only casualty among our kind was Baldur, who had fought for Oberon's
cause. My Lord was angered by the rebellion, and more so by the death of
Baldur, of whom he was passing fond. Never mind that Hodur, Baldur's own
brother, struck him down accidentally. He decreed that none of Oberon's
Children should kill another on pain of their own death. Hodur was executed
in front of the Court. The others were stripped of their powers and banished
to the World forever. And that was the end of the war."
"What happened to the others? Were they ever reinstated? If we can
establish a precedent, we might just have a chance."
"No. Narcissa is the only one who still lives, and she went quite mad after the
deaths of her friends."
Damn. "But we can get the Weirdos on the killing of their own kind."
Her mother sat down beside her, placed her hand on Fox's. It was cool, she
noticed, and soft. "Can you?" She stood. "We should gather the Puck now.
Day is ending."
Fox stood and stretched, and her stomach gurgled at her. "I know this is a
lousy time to ask, but is there anything to eat around here?"
Her mother smiled. "Whatever you'd like, child."
Fox was growing more and more confused about the layout of the palace.
They turned a corner which she'd thought would lead them back through a
room of sculptures, and instead revealed a huge kitchen, filled with steaming
pans, oversized cauldrons with bubbling fluids within them, and two great
ovens from which emanated the distinct aroma of fresh bread. Her mouth
watered.
"Have the cooks gone to Court?"
"Cooks?" As she watched, a large wooden spoon levitated from a marble
counter, stuck itself in one of the cauldrons, and stirred until the bubbling
went down. Porcelain dishes poked their way out of the cabinets and lined up,
as a silver ladle began filling a large ceramic tureen from another pot. It was
part "Beauty and the Beast," part "Fantasia," and it made Fox both delighted
and nervous.
"No wonder you can't cook," she said quietly. Her mother laughed, and
opened a door. A well-stocked pantry greeted them, though Fox suspected no
one had ever done the actual stocking. Her mother selected a few pieces of
fruit, some bread and cheese, and a small, cooked bird of some type. She
closed the door, handed the food to Fox, then opened the door again.
Instead of a pantry, there was now a passageway. Her mother walked in, and
Fox followed, slowly, watching the walls to see if the food had just been
hidden away somewhere.
Nope.
Another turn led them to a familiar place, the hallway where her sisters had
force-marched them before. Her mother tapped on Puck's door, then opened it
and walked inside. Fox ducked in behind her quickly, in case the door should
shut and suddenly become a hallway leading somewhere else.
Puck was sitting cross-legged on a large heap of silk and fur and linen. When
they entered, he zipped up, then bowed deeply before her mother.
"My Queen. You do me honor."
"It is good to see you again, Puck, although I wish it had been in New York
instead."
He settled to a standing position on the ground. "I had to come. You know
that."
"We all know." A great sadness filled her face and was gone. "Oberon will
call for you soon. In the meantime, you should eat." She spread her arm, and
a clean white cloth appeared on the floor. Fox set the food down, and then sat
down herself.
A picnic, she thought. We're having a damn picnic.
"For a last supper," Puck said, grabbing a leg of poultry and a torn hunk of
bread, "this doesn't look too bad. Any wine?"
"Plum or strawberry?"
"Strawberry." Her mother pulled a flask from the air, and three goblets. She
poured a generous amount for each of them. It tasted of strawberries, true, but
the best and sweetest of a season rich with rain and sun. Before she was
aware of it, she'd drained her glass. She saw the other two watching her with
kind amusement.
"Careful with that stuff, Fox," said Puck. "It goes down smooth, but it's got a
hell of a kick if you're not used to it."
"I've been drinking since I was sixteen. I can handle a little wine."
"I didn't need to know that," her mother said mildly.
The meal was quiet. They made small talk about Alexander and David, and
Fox told her mother about their failure at curing the Mutates.
"That's a pity. In a way, I'm as responsible as you are. I did encourage Anton
more than I should have. I don't think your father was ever aware of some of
the more extreme projects Anton spearheaded when he worked for us. I
presume you and David gave him even more leeway."
"Oooooh yeah," said Puck.
"Now that child will spend the rest of his life cursed, because of our mistake,"
her mother continued.
"I don't get it. You guys can do anything. Why can't you just zap them back
to normal and be done?" She looked at Puck. "I don't buy the 'Alex isn't old
enough' line. You had him doing soul transference at three months."
Mom said, "Fox, do you remember when we lived in the brownstone? You
were four years old, and a bird built a nest right outside your window. You
brought me one of the eggs."
"I remember. You made me put it back, because it belonged with the others,
not with me."
"Yes. Do you remember what happened afterwards?"
"The mother abandoned the nest. Because I'd touched it." She recalled seeing
the little blue eggs sitting for days. She'd brought them inside when she'd
realized their mother wasn't coming back, and tried to keep them warm by
wrapping them with tissues. After a while, she'd understood they weren't
going to hatch, that the baby birdies inside them were already dead. She'd
kept them anyway, inside her dollhouse, until one of the maids had thrown
them out.
"Do you understand why neither of us can just 'zap them back to normal?'"
"No. Those were birds. These are people, and they're suffering, and you can
do something about it and you won't. It's completely different." She grabbed
an orange and began worrying at the peel with her nails.
"It is not. Fox, you've lived a very full life, but because you were our
daughter, you got away with many things you really oughtn't have. I hold
myself responsible. I should have been stricter when you were small.
Instead, I, and your father too, preferred to sweep things over for you. The
pets, the problems at school, even the first time you were arrested, we stepped
in and fixed it for you."
"The first time?" asked Puck, muffled by a large piece of cheese in his mouth.
"What did you do?"
"I stole a pair of sunglasses. Right in front of the store cop. That was
dumb."
He made a noise. "You think?"
"Halcyon asked to have the charges dropped, and because he was who he was,
they were, after he paid for the sunglasses. We talked about making you
apologize to the store manager, but neither of us wanted to be the one to order
you, so we didn't. It was pushed under the rug and forgotten, and you never
had to answer for it, or anything else. Dear one, you must learn to accept the
consequences of your own actions, or you will learn nothing at all. Do you
understand now?"
Her chest was constricted. Her mother's voice had been gentle, not
reprimanding, and because it had been so kind it hurt worse than if she'd
shouted. Everything Fox was, and everything she'd done with her life meant
nothing. Her mother saw her as an irresponsible child, and that was that.
She'd screwed up and David had screwed up, and they had to clean up their
own messes.
"I understand."
Her mother turned to Puck. "And you, my sweet Puck, do you understand?"
"Yes, Lady."
Now Fox was confused. What had ...
Oh.
She wasn't the only one who needed to face responsibility. Puck had made
mistakes of his own, and whatever her feelings on the matter, he would not
find help from the Queen to resolve them. If she did help him, even with the
best of intentions, they would stand to lose it all.
Her heart heavy, Fox finished the orange, and prepared herself for defeat.
VVVVV
Her mother left them fifteen minutes later, if time had any meaning in this
place. Fox remained with Puck, sitting on the floor. He made her recite the
story once to his satisfaction. When she finished, he nodded slowly,
acknowledging that should the need arise, she could at least present the case,
if not argue it, and then they were quiet again for a while.
Funny. When she'd first met her father's young assistant, Owen had seemed
the original cold fish. He never smiled, never raised his temper, scarcely
seemed to breathe. She'd teased him, taunted him, and finally ignored him as
just another one of her father's lackeys. She'd been far more interested in
going out, having fun, tearing through her life from one thrill to the next.
David had been one of those "thrills." He'd been working for her father then,
moving his way up the corporate ladder like a fire. She'd been a torch of her
own, consuming, and then being consumed by him. She knew he'd dated her
because she was Halcyon Renard's daughter. He likewise knew she'd dated
him because it irritated the hell out of her father, who strongly disapproved of
his employee's methods. They'd been partners in slowly driving the old man
against a wall; that they had become lovers along the way was merely a side
benefit of their other interactions. When the ultimatum had come, when her
father had finally put his foot down, so to speak, they'd been prepared.
They'd been ready for months; when David walked out of the room, she'd
gone with him. So had half the people attending the meeting, including the
young, rather bland assistant, whom David had been wooing for months.
Sevarius hadn't been in attendance, but his resignation had been tendered by
five o'clock that evening. All told, sixty-three of Cyberbiotics' finest, ranging
from Owen and Anton to two aspiring executives in the mailroom, jumped
ship with David to become the backbone of Xanatos Enterprises.
And still she'd ignored Owen.
When she'd moved into the castle, she was forced to deal with him on a daily
basis. Owen was never less than courteous to her, but she always had the
feeling she was intruding somehow on what he'd considered his private
domain, more so after she and David married. Enforced company meant she
picked up on little things about him that annoyed her: his fastidious habits, his
almost unnoticeable but ever-present air of superiority. After a time, they'd
adjusted to one another, grown into each other.
When Oberon had come for Alexander, Owen had turned tail and run scared,
and she was just coming to realize how much it had cost him to come back,
stand his ground for them. He'd given them a chance, at what now appeared
to be the price of his own life. This business about his brother had shown her
places inside of him she'd never dreamed possible when she'd first met him,
and introduced her to a new kind of relationship with him. He had gone from
being a barely-registered presence in her life, to a rival, to a friend, and
finally, to her own unknown stepbrother.
And she was going to lose him.
It is time, said her mother's voice, as clear in her mind as if she'd been
there.
Puck stood at attention. He'd taken a cloak from the room's closet and
fastened it about his shoulders. It was forest green, and looked softer than
lambs' wool, and gave his typically garish garb a hint of elegance.
"Are you ready?" she asked him.
"As I'll ever be."
The passageway hadn't changed in the past hour. They turned down another
empty hallway, which ended in two wood and gold-trimmed doors, standing
two storeys tall. As they approached them, the doors opened of their own
accord, revealing the main hall of the High Court of Avalon.
It was big. Damned big. Trust her stepfather to build something so
impressive one would be awed long before reaching even the middle of the
room, much less the throne itself. The walls hung with crimson bunting, and
torches beyond number. The ceiling stretched high above them, and had a
design on it that might have been the stonework, and might have been a
painting by an ambitious pixie or three thousand. A balcony wove its way
around all but the front, teeming with spectators, and oh what spectators they
were.
If the beings who had watched them on their path up from the beach had been
strange, the ones standing and sitting to either side of them and watching from
above were beyond Fox's powers of description. Again she was confronted
by creatures she had thought could only exist in mythology or nightmare, and
as for some of them, she still wasn't sure they didn't. Some watched in
eerie silence, but others whispered amongst themselves, pointing with arms
and claws in their direction. She saw gargoyle faces among them, and was
actually relieved to find that much familiarity in the otherwise alien assembly.
On her way there, she'd thought in her cocky way that she had a prayer of
controlling these people; now she was uncomfortably certain they knew a hell
of a lot more about control than she would ever learn.
She felt something. She looked at Puck, the only truly known and loved face
in the vast room. Maybe unconsciously, they had moved together, their hands
touching. He turned his head to her, and she saw the fear and determination
on his face.
"Thank you," he mouthed at her.
"Any time," she whispered back.
Like a child might, he slid his hand in hers and wrapped their fingers together.
His light pulse raced against her palm. She gave her brother's hand a squeeze,
and together they traversed the distance from the door to the throne.
The Tricksters had positioned themselves in the front of the rest of the crowd.
The spider was nowhere to be seen, but the others were there, and had been
joined by two others: a dark-skinned, hairless humanoid with darting eyes,
whose presence surprised her, then made her wonder at her own surprise; and
a pale humanoid woman, with long black hair and sad quicksilver eyes. Fox
wondered if she'd been the one she'd heard earlier with Puck, especially from
the way the woman watched him as they passed. For his part, Puck didn't
even glance their way, keeping his eyes straight in front of him. Whether it
was because he was focusing on the task to come, or because seeing what he
had to lose might drive him insane, Fox would never know.
They reached the dais holding the throne and stopped.
For all the ostentation of the rest of the palace, Fox had been expecting a little
more. Oberon's throne was hardly grander than an ornate chair, and her
mother's even less so. They weren't plain, certainly, but she had thought
they'd at least have gone with gold and velvet. She and David owned
armchairs that were lovelier, and certainly would be more comfortable.
Then she met eyes with her stepfather. As if blinded before, she saw a
nimbus of power surrounding him like a rainbow vision. Her mother, in her
fay form, radiated light in even more colors than those for which Fox had
names.
She felt her body go numb with awe.
Who needed a fancy throne when one already had a walking aura of
invincibility? Fox was suddenly very afraid, not just for her life, but for what
she was coming to know as her own soul.
Puck squeezed her hand, the way she'd touched his at the other end of the
room, sending support through the contact. Without words, without even
thought, he let her see through the mystique, until the light faded, and they
were faced only by their parents once more.
When her eyes were clear, she noticed the Three standing beside Oberon,
wearing matched looks of arrogance. They'd seen her quail before the
splendor of their Lord and Lady, and they laughed at her mortal weakness.
Bitches.
Puck removed his hand, and then made a deep, courtly bow before the King
and Queen, indicating Fox should do the same. She did, wondering if she
should have curtseyed instead, then wondering if she even remembered to
curtsey properly.
"Rise." Oberon's voice was smooth, telling her he was in his throne room, in
his palace, on his island. At that moment, he was in supreme control of their
lives, and he knew it.
"My Lord," said Puck, "we have come before you with most serious charges."
"We know why you are here, boy. We have yet to decide if we will allow you
to present your 'charges' as you say and then kill you, or spare ourselves the
trouble of listening to your prattle and strike you down now. Convince us we
should let you live."
"My Lord?"
"Beg for your life, Puck. You were so eager to do it before, when we first
pronounced your banishment. Now," Oberon leaned forward, his smile
showing sharp teeth, "you may do so again."
Puck closed his eyes. He sank to his knees, eyes still shut, clasped his hands
before him, and whispered, "Please my Lord, spare my life."
"We didn't hear you. Speak louder."
"Please, my Lord!" Puck said, loud enough that the words echoed in the hall
as little reminders of his humiliation, should he happen to forget. "Spare me
long enough to tell what I need to say!"
"Again."
Fox's nails broke skin. You bastard, she thought at Oberon, not caring
if he and every fay in the room heard her. You fucking bastard.
"My Lord! Please, my Lord!"
This was going to stop. Now. She gave her muscles the command to move.
They refused. Her face turned towards her mother on its own volition, and in
her mind she heard the once-loved voice speak:
Not yet, child.
"Please what?"
"You son of a bitch."
Fox felt her control return to her body, but she hadn't been the one to speak.
The words had been audible to everyone in the room, but had not been
shouted. She turned to see who had dared break the silence.
The dark-haired woman had come forward, her grey eyes blazing in fury.
"Are you so afraid of what he has to say?"
Mother stood. "Be still, girl," said she, in a tone as dangerous as the woman's
had been.
The other ignored her. "Are you so spineless that you need to shame the Puck
to build up your own sorry sense of self-importance?"
Mother said, "Raven, restrain your sister."
Raven came forward and took her arm. After a moment, Coyote took the
other. She pulled away from them both, her anger fully directed on the king.
"You make me sick."
Oh boy. Oberon turned his head towards her, deigning to look in her
direction. Then he rolled his eyes and focused his attention back on his game.
He could just as well have slapped her. She snarled, surely about to do
something very very stupid.
"Rowan. Don't."
Puck's voice was quiet, and yet it carried more than his declarations had a
minute before. The woman stopped instantly. He remained on his knees,
humbled before the king, his eyes never leaving the floor.
"They're just words. They don't matter."
Fox saw his face as he spoke, and knew both gladness and grief. He meant it.
As demeaning as it might be to beg, Puck himself was not demeaned. He had
withdrawn into a place Oberon could not go, and therefore could never hurt
him. He could speak the words, but it was obvious to all he would never
mean them. And so she grieved, for Oberon must see that as well, and would
kill him for it.
The woman, Rowan, also saw it. Tears filled her pretty eyes, and without
another word, she dashed out of the hall and was gone.
Puck did not watch her go. Instead, he raised his head to meet Oberon's dark
scowl, at either the outburst, or the fact that it had spoiled his fun. Whatever
had displeased him most, he was no longer in a good mood, and looked to
take it out on the little form before him. Everything they'd done, everything
they'd planned, all for nothing.
"State. Your. Case."
For the second time since entering the room, Fox went numb, this time with
the shock of hearing good news. Oberon would hear them out. She saw the
same confused joy on Puck's face, to be quickly replaced with a more somber
expression as he scrambled to his feet.
"My Lord," he said, his voice strong, confident, "We bring before you the
most serious of charges against your heirs, Luna, Selena and Phoebe." There
was a low murmuring from the assembly; it seemed not everyone knew what
was to come.
Oberon raised a white eyebrow. "Continue."
"We hold the Three accountable for the unlawful murder of one of our own
kind."
The murmurs grew in volume. The Three remained in their position by their
father, unaffected by the news.
"Strong words," said the king. "And meaningless at that, but as you said, they
are just words." He emitted ice cubes with every breath.
"I intend to prove them meaningful, Lord."
"How can you do that?" He gestured. "All my good children returned to
Avalon with the Gathering. Only you denied our call, and you stand before us
now. No one has died, and therefore, your words mean nothing."
"My Lord, the one I speak of died before your call."
"Non sequitur. Again, no one is missing."
"Ian is."
"Who?"
Puck licked his lips. "Ian. Your son, my Lord."
"I have no son named Ian."
"You did. A thousand years ago, you brought a babe to this island, your very
image. He was given to my care while you and your Lady argued over his
future, and I was the one who took him back to the World when you bade."
Now they were in dangerous territory. Oberon could dismiss them simply by
choosing not to acknowledge the truth of Puck's statement.
"I recall the child," said her mother, before Oberon could deny the memory.
If he did so now, he would appear weak, senile.
"As do we," he said, albeit reluctantly.
Thanks, Mom.
Puck continued. "I disobeyed orders, my Lord. You directed me to return
him to his mother. I did not. She had died by her own hand in the interim. I
knew I could not bring him back here, lest he be killed, and I could not stay
there with him. I left him with a childless couple, and paid them enough not
to ask questions about his origins. That was the last I ever saw him."
"We fail to see how this has any relevance."
"You shall, Lord. You see, after you banished us to the World, you asked me
to perform a few last tasks for you. When I finished, I thought to track down
the child, teach him a few tricks, perhaps keep him as a companion. I went to
the village where I'd left him. The woman had died, but the husband still
lived, and for a modest fee, he told me I might find Ian apprenticed to a
wizard at court in a castle not far from there. I went to the castle, but found it
abandoned. I was told everyone had fled some time before to the court of
King Kenneth." There were again sounds from the audience, this time
distinctly gargoyle sounds. The Eggs were beginning to catch onto what was
happening.
"When I reached my destination, I discovered King Kenneth had been
murdered, and his throne usurped by a man named Constantine, who didn't
like questions. He was in a terrible mood. It seemed his intended
bride had vanished without a trace two nights before, with a very peculiar
entourage. And there my search ended, for none knew what had become of
the small band and their cargo."
Oberon shifted in his seat, almost unnoticeably.
Puck said, "I request that Gabriel come forward." Oberon nodded approval.
A young male gargoyle, bearing a distinct resemblance to Coldstone, glided
down from the balcony and sketched a bow. "I am here."
"Gabriel, will you please relate for us the story of your arrival on Avalon?"
He nodded, and told the same story Angela had once told, with almost the
same words. In her mind, Fox saw the young gargoyles as children, begging
their foster parents for the story over and over, like their own private fairy
tale. It was probably the same way gargoyle history had always transferred
from one generation to the next, stories given to the hatchlings, to learn and
relearn by rote and pass along themselves.
"They screeched and flapped their wings, until the Magus swept them away
with the boat paddle. They flew off, still screeching." The king listened
mutely, while many in the audience snickered. The Three maintained their
indifferent air, though their patience thinned with every word. Gabriel ended
the story the way Angela had, with Mary and Finella sailing off into the mists.
"Thank you, Gabriel," said Puck. "My Lord, I would like to let the record
show that Ian safely guided his charges to Avalon, where they still live today
as Your Majesty's honor guard."
"You may so indicate. It does not appear to matter. The boy still lived after
the attack, unless you claim some injury he suffered because of it led to his
death."
"No, my Lord. As you know, because the Three failed in their task, the Island
did not allow them to return. Three caretakers were replaced by three more,
and as Avalon did recognize one of the newcomers to be its own, all was
well."
"We can accept this."
"The Three did not. We charge that they plotted with the Archmage, to
deliver retribution for the disgrace they'd suffered for their own arrogance.
They used a gargoyle woman and a human man sorely, and got 'round the
edict to not interfere with mortals by making the pair immortal. They
collected the Eye of Odin, the Phoenix Gate, and the Grimorum Arcanorum,
gave them to the Archmage, thus making him powerful enough to do the
unthinkable."
He paused, gaining everyone's attention in the room.
"To take Avalon by force."
There were shouts, echoes, calls for the Three. Oberon silenced them all with
a gesture.
"There was a battle at sunset. Many of the gargoyles were wounded. The
attackers stopped, some bit of mercy in them perhaps, and gave the people of
the Island until daybreak to live. The Guardian went for help, and fortunately
for him, landed in Manhattan. He brought back with him Goliath, Elisa Maza,
and Bronx, with whom your Majesties are familiar. Elisa and Ian woke the
Sleeping King. During the next attack, which was long before sunup, the
Archmage died in battle with Goliath, and Ian died fighting the Three."
Puck stopped and took a deep breath.
"By Your Majesty's own decree, we may not kill of our own kind. I hereby
charge that Luna, Selene and Phoebe did knowingly and willfully defy that
law, and struck down their own brother in vengeance for their defeat so long
ago."
Then he stood still, waiting.
Oberon turned to his daughters. "What have you to say about this?"
The blonde spoke. "Lord, it is true that we did battle with one of the mortals
who had usurped our island home."
"Indeed," said the brunette, "in our desire to reclaim Avalon, we may have
caused grievous damage to that one."
"However, we are appalled at the notion that we would knowingly kill one of
our own."
"We would not accuse the Puck of lying."
"He has been under much strain, living among mortals so long without hope
of regaining his home."
"That he would stoop to this level simply to return here, after having denied
the Gathering, is but more evidence of his distress."
Puck growled at them. "Will you answer the charges or not?"
The brunette smiled cruelly at him. "We will answer."
"Yes, we may have caused the death of the Magus."
"But we submit that he was not of our kind, Lord, and therefore we have done
no wrong." They folded their arms.
Fox blinked at them. "He was your brother. What do you mean he
wasn't your kind?"
Luna turned to Titania. "Your little one poses a pretty question, Mother."
"Perhaps you can answer it for her," said Phoebe.
"We stand by our statement," said Selene.
"Mother," she said, not sure if it was appropriate to call her so here, and not
caring. "We just went through this. The Magus, Ian, whatever his name was,
he was Oberon's son. That makes him one of your kind."
"Does it?" asked her mother.
"Perhaps it does, and perhaps it does not," said Oberon. He turned to his wife.
"Our Queen, we will abide by your decision in this matter. Was Ian one of
us?"
Titania sat back in her chair. "By virtue of blood alone? No. The boy was
not fay by that criterion."
"What!" Fox couldn't believe her ears. Her mother had turned on them.
"How can you say that?"
"Fox," said Puck warningly.
"Of course he was ... "
"Halfling, hold your tongue!" She'd never heard Puck shout before, and
certainly never at her. She stared at him in amazement.
Can you hear me? It was his voice inside her mind, but very distant,
like a radio station barely in range.
Yes. She waited, wondering if he'd heard her. She tried again.
YES! Still nothing. She nodded very slightly.
Do not cross your mother in this. If Ian is fay by blood, then so are you
and the kid. He did not need to add they would then be subject to the
Gathering. She felt that in the cold pit growing in her stomach.
"I apologize," she said. "I spoke before thinking."
"You are forgiven this once," said her mother. "You are unaware of our
ways."
Oberon said, "If the boy was mortal, the Three have not killed of our own.
They have played too close to the edge of our law in dealing with mortals,
perhaps, and for that they will be censured. If there will be nothing further ...
"
"Blood flows where it will," said Puck. "Ian was one of us, and I am prepared
to prove it."
"How?"
"For one thing, unlike Fox, Ian was a magic user. He transformed the Three
to owls."
The brunette said, "If you will recall, he used a spell book."
"He could not have changed us without it."
"He could not even undo his spell on the gargoyles at Wyvern with its aid."
Oberon snapped his fingers. "Odin, come forward."
An older, bearded fay, dressed in a robe of stars and a horned helmet, came
forward and bowed before the king. "Yes, my Lord."
"Before you recovered your Eye, who was the last owner?"
"The gargoyle Goliath, Lord. He used it to transform himself into a great
warrior."
"Indeed. Could anyone use your Eye in this manner?"
"Not exactly the same, but yes. It was a talisman of transformation."
Yeah. Transformation. Fox still had to shave her legs twice a day
during the full moon because of that damned jewel.
"Puck," said Oberon, "will you also claim Goliath to be one of us? He did
after all work magic." He was playing with him, and enjoying it.
"No, my Lord. Goliath is a gargoyle, no more and no less."
"Then unless you can prove Ian worked some spell without his book, you
have no case."
"I can, my Lord. The second battle for the Island was fought on Avalon's soil,
and the Archmage had all the talismans. Yet Ian still defeated the Three with
magic. Surely only a Child could do so." Something that he said caught at
her, but she couldn't put her finger on it.
"Daughters?"
"Lord, we admit the presence of magic in our battle confused us."
"However, anyone in contact with the Island learns some form of it, for it is
the lifeblood of this place."
"Even Your Majesty's honor guard dally with it from time to time."
"A trained mortal could certainly use the Island's magic."
Puck shot back, "Are you actually going to admit the three of you were
defeated in magical battle by one half-trained human tapping off excess
energy from Avalon? That's pathetic."
A few chuckles came from the front of the assembly.
"We were surprised," said Luna.
"By an old man? Who'd beaten you before?" Puck mocked.
Luna said, "We made certain it would not happen a third time."
"Were you that afraid of him?"
"We fear no mortal," said Selene, making a fist.
"You feared this one. Enough to make certain he would never interfere with
you again. Why? Why kill him? If he was mortal, he would have died soon
anyway!" Puck was shouting again.
"Not soon enough!" the Three said in unison.
"You knew the Gathering was coming, knew Oberon would return to the
Island, and find you rousted from your watch by a half-human bastard." He
advanced on them slowly. "You knew that Oberon would come, and he
would see you had been weak. Defeated by a mortal? That would have been
bad, but defeated by your halfling brother, who never even knew his own
potential? That was worse, because Oberon would have known that was what
happened, and he might very well have changed his mind about who would be
the next ruler of Avalon. You feared that, and you killed Ian to make certain
it would not come to pass."
"And if we did?" The arrogance was back. They did not back away from
him. They stood their ground like three mountains, unmovable save by the
hand of Time itself.
"So what if the halfling died?"
"By dying, he proved to be mortal."
"You have no case."
Puck stared at them, and dropped his head. Fox wasn't sure if it was in relief
or defeat. Then he whispered, "You killed him. You killed your brother.
And then you tried to kill me to hide it, but that doesn't matter anymore
because I'm already dead."
He looked at Oberon. "My Lord, they have admitted to murdering Ian.
Whether or not you hold them responsible, they have said it in front of the
Court. I am satisfied." Then he closed his eyes.
A sigh went through the crowd. It didn't matter. They could never prove Ian
had worked a spell on his own, and so he would never truly be considered a
Child of Oberon. Their charges were worthless and it didn't matter to Puck,
because he'd gotten them to admit it. His life was over, but his heart was free
for the first time in a thousand years.
Fox wasn't sure if what she felt for him right now was love, but it was close
enough.
"We have one question before meting out due sentence for having violated
our banishment." The king's voice was a shade less brutal than it had been
throughout this long night, a strange alteration. "Why did you wait so long to
bring this to us?"
Fox had wondered that herself. Puck looked down, traced a pattern on this
floor with his shoe.
"I wasn't going to wait. When I made up my mind to come back, I wanted to
do it immediately, before I lost my nerve. Then we got company.
"Angela had told me enough of her youth that I could piece together the rest,
about Ian, about the princess. I wanted to hate her, I think I did hate
her, for everything. How dare she be happy and alive, with my Ian barely into
his grave! It wasn't fair! It wasn't right. I wondered what it must have been
like for him, to have spent a thousand years watching her, loving her, and
never being able to tell her. Can you even begin to imagine? I hated her for
not seeing it, for spending those thousand years beside him and never
realizing how much he loved her.
"When the two of them came to the castle, I was prepared. I wanted her to
feel what I was feeling, to know what it was like. I wanted her to hurt, the
way I was hurting, the way Ian must have been hurting.
"And while I plotted, I got to know her, not well, but more than could be
gleaned from stories. Since I'd found out, I'd pictured her in my mind as a
scheming, selfish little thing, her nose stuck right up in the air. What I saw
was an old woman, who wasn't even certain what century it was anymore.
When she was lucid, she was gentle, even charming. I could see how Ian
might fall in love with her. And I began to see other things.
"She'd loved him, too. Maybe it wasn't the way he'd wished for, but she
had loved him, and I started to see how even that shred of kindness
could be enough for him to love her further still, enough even for him to lay
down his life for her sake. Were I to come forward with what I knew, it
would have hurt her. I didn't want to hurt her any longer, not for what wasn't
completely her fault. I was angry at her because she didn't set my mistake to
rights and make it all better. I was the one who left him, I was the one who
could have made a difference in his life when he needed someone there. It
was my weakness that made him, and in many ways, mine that killed him, and
she was feeling the pain from his death as much as I was, if not more.
Hurting her further would have been like betraying Ian all over again.
"So I waited. She was dying by the day. I could wait to plead my case until
she'd moved on to the next world. Maybe I should have come forward, even
called Katharine and Tom as witnesses to this facade. If so, then the fault is
again mine, for he has left this Isle of late, and she is beyond where even you
can reach her."
Oberon listened to him in contemplative silence, and when he finished,
inclined his head.
"We accept your reason. We had no quarrel with Princess Katharine. You
did well by her to wait."
"I did what I thought best."
Fox said, "My Lord?" The words felt odd coming out of her mouth.
"Speak."
"Lord, as my mother said, I am unfamiliar with your ways. May I ask a
question concerning your laws?"
"You may ask."
"What does the law say about the murder of your own? It was your
decree, given after Baldur's death."
"We know when the order was given, girl. We decreed that no Child of
Oberon shall cause the death or destruction of another Child of Oberon, under
pain of their own demise."
"Your exact words?"
"We do not forget." He was getting impatient with her.
"I have a reason for asking. Surely, by definition, my sisters did break your
law."
"We went over this already. Your Lady mother decided otherwise."
"I'm afraid she didn't." She paused. "My Lord."
Daughter, tread lightly.
"My mother said blood alone does not make one a fairy. I have no qualms
with that statement. I am referring instead to the words of your own decree.
You said nothing about being fay. You said no child of yours shall cause the
death of another child of yours."
"We meant the phrase to mean all our Children."
"But that's not what you said. You said 'Child of Oberon.' Ian may or may
not have been fay, but by your own admission, he was your son. I assume you
also claim to have fathered the Three, which would make them your children
as well, no matter what their magical abilities. Therefore, they broke your
law."
Oberon watched her. She stood her ground, not daring to breathe lest she start
shaking.
"Indeed." He turned to the Three. "Luna, Selene, Phoebe, what have you to
say about," he glanced at her again, "your sister's logic?"
"Our sister should not delve into matters not pertaining to her."
"She might find herself in over her head."
"That would be unfortunate."
For an immortal, he was looking pretty tired. "Just answer."
"Lord, surely you will not fall for this legal trickery."
"The little one is twisting your words to suit her own purposes, ignoring the
meaning of the law."
"Odd," he replied. "You have done that more than enough yourselves, or have
you already forgotten when our generous interpretation of our law has been in
your favor?"
"Of course we have not forgotten your graciousness."
"We would simply point out that ... " Phoebe grasped for words.
Luna continued for her: "We mean that it would not be proper for ... " She too
faltered.
"Very good," said Puck, admiration in his tone. "Use their game against
them. They despise nothing more."
"Be still, Puck." Before they could speak, he also silenced his daughters.
"And you as well. We must consider your punishment."
"What!" The Sisters wore matching expressions of disbelief. It was almost
comical.
"Lord, you cannot seriously ... "
"Be silent or we will make you be silent!" His voice thundered through the
hall. They settled into mute sullenness. "You did admit in front of the full
Court your involvement in your brother's demise, and are by this admission
guilty. We will consider appropriate discipline," he said. "After all,
we cannot go back on our own decrees, and the Puck and the Fox have
provided a literal interpretation of those decrees.
"The Three will be held in their rooms until we determine what should be
done with them." He snapped, and the Sisters disappeared from view,
probably to their own chambers.
They'd won.
She turned to Puck in joy, ready to embrace him, until she saw his face. He
was smiling, but tears flowed from his eyes.
"Puck?"
"It's all right," he said shakily, and looked up at her in a strange brightness. "I
didn't think we'd win. I was just now thinking that I'm going to hold onto this
memory, even if I lose the rest. When I see Ian in the next go-round, I can tell
him, we won. We won."
"Don't talk like that. We're on a roll here."
He tilted his head at her. "It's all right, Fox. I accepted the consequences
when I chose to come back."
"I didn't. You had no right to lie to us." She wasn't going to lose him now,
after they'd achieved their goal. It wasn't fair!
"You would have stopped me if I didn't. You and David were right all along.
I needed to come home and I did. And the Three won't get away with killing
the first person I ever gave a damn about other than myself. It's not a perfect
ending, Fox. Sometimes you're lucky if you just break even."
"Come forward for sentencing, Puck." Puck hesitated, then quite abruptly
threw his arms around her neck. She returned his embrace awkwardly, then
warmly, denying the tears that threatened.
"I wish we could have been kids together," he said against her ear.
"Does the word Armageddon mean anything to you?" she responded.
He chortled, and then they broke apart. Slowly, he approached his father, and
went down on one knee. "My Lord."
"Puck, you were banished from this isle for having denied the Gathering, and
then standing against us in the dispute over our Queen's grandson. As was
pointed out, we follow our decrees to the letter. By violating your
banishment, your life is forfeit."
"I understand and accept." Her last remaining hope, that he might try some
loophole, faded with his words. He wanted to die, damn him.
"As always, we are not without mercy. We will not cause you undue
suffering. You were ever a good servant, and trustworthy companion. Were
it not for your imprudent choice to remain in the World after we called you
home, you would be at our side even now."
The son of a bitch. He was offering a way out. All Puck had to do was recant
his rash decision, say he was sorry, and Oberon would stay the execution. He
had just lost one son. He didn't want to lose the other.
Then she looked at Puck again. There was a strength in him, a kind of will
that had been subjugated all his life. Perhaps he had been raised since birth to
serve, but whom he served was his own choice, maybe his only choice. He
could go home, if he denied David and Fox for good, and thereby denied
himself, what he was inside of the bundled lies and half-truths making
his existence. The fay who had begged for mercy on her bedroom floor the
night Alex was born would have done so happily. This one had tasted life,
real life, and just as fairy wine made the drinker desire no other beverage, the
Puck could not give up the mortal life he had found, save but to give his life
entirely.
Oberon read the same thing, in the line of his son's jaw, and the set of his
shoulders. The king sagged, barely, aware of what he must do, telling the
audience he did not do so by choice, but only because there was no other way.
"Puck, we find you guilty of treason against our person, and of disobeying our
most sacred commands. We find you guilty of breaking your banishment, no
matter the reason. The punishment is death. Have you any last words?"
Puck crossed his eyes in thought, then asked, "Can I go look up something
really good and say that?"
"No."
"Then ... " Puck glanced at Fox. "Let's just get this over with."
In desperation, she looked to her mother, but there would be no quarter there.
The woman had already retreated into herself.
Oberon raised his hand above Puck's head. Slowly, he brought it down
towards him, and Fox knew without being told her friend would die the
moment it touched his soft white hair. Puck closed his eyes. Fox tore her
own away from him, unable to watch.
And saw the mists rolling in around her.
VVVVV