The next day
The Palace of the Unseen, known also as the Fairy Court, Fairyland
“I AM SORRY,” SAID the fairy steward, not sounding sorry in the least. “But my instructions were quite clear. Her Majesty is not at home to visitors.”
It was the first spirit they had seen since their arrival at the Palace of the Unseen. Georgiana had brought Muna and Henrietta through echoing corridors to the presence chamber, where those desirous of an audience with the Queen of the Djinns were received. They had not seen a soul on the way, and the presence chamber was empty.
The chamber was a large hall, such as might have been found in any mortal nobleman’s residence. It was furnished in the height of European luxury, the walls hung with rich tapestries, and it was only upon closer inspection that one noticed its peculiarities. In the tapestry nearest to Muna, a crowned djinn composed of smoke and flame appeared to be presenting a lavish set of robes to an earthenware jug. The mirrors on the walls did not quite reflect reality—in the glass, the blazing wax candles that lit the hall were snuffed out; Henrietta’s hair was dark; and Muna’s reflection was covered in gleaming scales, instead of her own ordinary brown skin.
When they had waited for a time, Henrietta ventured to ask Georgiana if it was always so quiet. The naga shook her head, looking grim.
“Everyone with an ounce of sense is making themselves scarce,” she said. “It is the best way of avoiding trouble when the Queen is on one of her rampages. And what with the loss of the Virtu, this is such a rampage as none will have seen since the Queen ascended to the throne!”
The steward who finally appeared seemed far from pleased to have been summoned forth. It looked like a tree that had contracted the notion that it would be amusing to walk the world as a mortal man but had got caught halfway through its transformation, so that it was neither wholly vegetable nor quite human. Nonetheless its countenance was perfectly expressive.
“I should advise you to go away and come again when Her Majesty is in better spirits,” it said. “I should think her mood will have improved in around two hundred years or so.”
Georgiana Without Ruth bridled.
“This is absurd!” she said. “It is not every day that the Queen is presented with such gifts as these. Her Majesty has not relished the taste of mortal flesh in a great age!”
Muna shivered, drawing closer to Henrietta. She was beginning to doubt whether it had, after all, been such a good idea to insist upon being brought to the Palace of the Queen of the Djinns. Henrietta’s face was set and pale, but she touched Muna’s arm.
She must be as frightened as Muna. She was certainly nearly as helpless; what magic she had could be little good here, in the beating heart of the Unseen Realm. Yet the light brush of her fingertips against Muna’s skin was reassuring.
“A gift may be rare without being suitable,” said the steward. “Perhaps you are not aware, ma’am, but fashions have altered in the Fairy Court. It is felt now that the practice of eating one’s enemies lacks elegance.”
This was encouraging. Muna allowed herself a spark of hope, but:
“What fiddle-faddle!” said Georgiana. “Her Majesty was planning to devour the Virtu at her banquet. Is it any less elegant to devour spirit-stuff encased in flesh than when it is imprisoned in an amulet? Besides, she’s the Queen, ain’t she? It’s for her to set the fashion. If she wishes to eat mortal magicians, I should like to see the sprite that dared to disdain her for it!”
“The point is well made,” said a voice behind them. “But which mortal magicians am I to eat?”
At the entrance to the hall stood a tall creature like a woman—a giantess, indeed, for she was taller than Georgiana, and the crown of her head nearly touched the high ceiling. Her face was indistinct and curiously changeable. At one moment it seemed to Muna she had the face of a European woman, forbidding but not unbeautiful—at another, her skin looked darker, her features more familiar—and then when Muna looked again she saw, with a shock, a snake’s head with glowing eyes, its tongue darting out to taste the air.
The fairy steward fell on its face, crying, “Sovereign!”
The Queen of the Djinns was accompanied by a bevy of attendants of various shapes and sizes. Some were mere darting lights; others were shaped like beasts or plants, but yet others might have passed for human. Among these last was a girl who caught Muna’s attention at once.
Her hair was covered by a neat green cap, her face daubed with red mud and her teeth blackened like a princess’s. But Muna would have known Sakti anywhere. Her heart bounded in her chest, but she suppressed her exclamation, for Sakti immediately pulled a ferocious face that said, unmistakably, Quiet!
“So you are here, Georgiana,” said the Queen of the Djinns. “What brings you to my court?”
As she passed the naga, the candles flickered, their flames bowing as before a breeze, and the windows and mirrors turned dark. Her attendants crowded around her as she collapsed upon an enormous ottoman—including Sakti, who had assumed an expression of courteous submission. It did not suit her in the least.
“I was here not a week ago, as you know perfectly well,” snapped Georgiana. She paused, her eyes widening.
“Why, of all the absurd hoaxes!” she exclaimed. “Why did you raise such a commotion if you had the Virtu all along?”
She was staring at the Queen’s head. It was only now, tearing her gaze from Sakti, that Muna noticed the ornament the Queen wore. A shock of recognition thrilled through her.
Nestled against the Queen’s hair was a serpent made of bluish-green stones. It was nearly identical to the pendant Clarissa Midsomer had worn at the Sorceress Royal’s ball—save that Clarissa’s snake had terminated in a stub tail, whereas the Queen’s ornament had two heads, one at each end, with ruby eyes and a red tongue.
Muna had scarcely begun to puzzle out what this could mean when the Queen gestured at her attendants. They scurried out of the room, Sakti going with them. At the door Sakti paused and turned her head, meeting Muna’s eyes—and then she was gone, leaving Muna more confused than ever.
Sakti had looked at her with great earnestness. It was a look she had given Muna dozens of times before, when she had done something she should not have done, and desired Muna not to betray her to Mak Genggang. But what did the look signify now?
The Queen spoke only when the doors had shut on her attendants.
“This, do you mean?” she said, raising a languid hand to her hair. “It is only a replica. You of all people ought to be able to tell that!”
Georgiana coughed. “Of course! A remarkable imitation. It would not have deceived me, but I did not expect . . .”
“That I should be wearing a replica? Few in Fairy know that the Virtu is lost,” said the Queen. “It would only cause anxiety among my subjects.”
Georgiana nodded sagely. “I daresay you don’t wish the loss to be gossiped about at your banquet, since representatives from Fairy Without will be present. It would certainly be awkward if they discover what a precarious position you are in!”
Muna felt this could have been put with somewhat more tact. The Queen said freezingly:
“The Virtu will not be lost by the time of the banquet. I have sent an elf to Britain to recover it—a person on whom I know I may rely, unlike some others.”
Georgiana’s tail lashed, but to her credit she did not rise to the bait, despite the obvious reflection upon Threlfall.
“That’s as may be!” she said, mildly enough. “If your elf does not succeed, however, I should think you would be glad of a sensation to replace the Virtu.”
She put out a foreleg, nudging Muna and Henrietta forward. Henrietta looked terrified, but she gave a respectable curtsey. Muna imitated this with rather less grace.
“Your Majesty,” said Henrietta.
The Queen stared. “What are these supposed to be?”
“Gifts from Threlfall to its Queen,” said Georgiana. “These two are magiciennes from England—rare creatures, for most English thaumaturges are male. They are not a patch on the Virtu, of course, but still it will make a remarkable impression if you devour two mortal witches at your banquet. Such a thing has not been done in many years.”
The Queen’s lip curled. “So this is how you seek to avert my wrath—by a sacrifice?” She swept the girls with a look of disdain. “What crimes have these wretches committed?”
“They are not wretches,” said Georgiana indignantly. “Both girls are the finest magiciennes England has to offer. They are of unimpeachable birth and possess extraordinary magical powers, and what is more, they are intimate friends of the Sorceress Royal. She will be distressed beyond measure if you eat them.”
“That is not true!” cried Henrietta.
“Hush!” said Georgiana. “Do not you know that food must only speak when it is spoken to?”
But Henrietta’s interjection had served its purpose. The Queen squinted at her and Muna.
“Now that I look at the creatures,” said the Queen, “they do not look so very English. Are not the English paler on the whole?” She pointed at Muna. “You now, you make an odd-looking Englishwoman. How do you account for it?”
“I am not an Englishwoman, Your Majesty,” said Muna, curtseying.
Georgiana looked as though she longed to cuff Muna.
“Perhaps this one is not English,” she allowed, “but she is a valued guest of the Sorceress Royal. And as for the other—”
“I am a revolutionary!” said Henrietta.
“Eh?” said Georgiana.
“What?” said the Queen of the Djinns.
“I swore I should die before the truth passed my lips, but you have forced it out of me,” said Henrietta, speaking very fast so she could get it all out before she was interrupted. “It is true I was born an Englishwoman, but I shall die a spy for the French!”
“Nonsense!” snapped Georgiana. To the Queen she said, “I do not know why the girl is telling such falsehoods, but I have it on good authority that she is beloved by the Sorceress Royal.”
“I grew to womanhood under the same roof as Prunella Wythe,” admitted Henrietta. “But that only gave me a better understanding of all her defects. I could tell you, oh! such tales of her wickedness!”
This seemed to interest the Queen. She rose slightly on her ottoman, leaning forward. “Is that so? Pray recite them. Accounts of the iniquity of my enemies are always welcome at this Court.”
Henrietta was not prepared for this. She shot a look of alarm at Muna. “Oh . . . well . . .”
“There, you see,” said Georgiana in triumph. “She does not know any tales of the Sorceress Royal’s wickedness.”
“Miss Stapleton knows dozens of tales,” said Muna, wishing to be helpful, and it did seem to Muna that Henrietta would not have to overexert herself to bear ill report of a friend as high-handed and quarrelsome as the Sorceress Royal. “She is only trying to recollect the worst.”
“Yes,” said Henrietta. Muna’s encouragement appeared to stimulate her powers of recollection. “If you will credit it, Prunella once borrowed my favourite dress and spoilt it beyond repair! I had had it made up from a length of silk my father gave me, which was shockingly dear and Prunella knew it, but that did not detain her for a moment. She wore it to a ball and spilt claret down its front, and it has never been the same again. And it was most unjust, for I am fair and Prunella is dark, so the dress should not have suited her at all—the shade was far too pale.
“But it became her extraordinarily,” said Henrietta, in tones of outrage. “She looked perfectly enchanting in it!”
“You turned traitor because your friend spoilt your dress?” said the Queen.
Henrietta flushed. “It must seem a trifle to Your Majesty, but . . .”
“On the contrary,” said the Queen, “having the wantonness to risk the possessions of others is certainly the sign of a dishonourable character.”
She gave Georgiana a meaningful look. Firing up, the naga said to Henrietta:
“I hope you do not expect me to believe you parted brass rags with the friend of your infancy for such a trifle. The honourable would not discard years of friendship and loyalty for a single error!” She turned to the Queen.
“Your Majesty, I beg you will not listen to any more of this!” said Georgiana. “What the girl means by telling such tales I don’t know, but whether she is a spy or a maggot-pate is not of the least consequence. I wager she will still make delicate eating.”
“I cannot concur, Georgiana,” said the Queen. “It seems to me the identity of this female is a matter of the first consequence. You tell me you are making me a gift of two English magicians. Very well. But now it appears they are hardly English at all!”
She rose. If the Queen had feet, they were concealed by billowing skirts of black shadow. Where her skirts trailed along the ground, the surface blistered, turning dark.
“I ask myself,” said the Queen, her voice growing louder, “why should Georgiana Without Ruth seek to deceive me? What can have prompted this gift? Why should Threlfall—for centuries, faithful friends of the English—be so anxious now to distance itself from England?”
Georgiana drew herself up. “I will not pretend to misunderstand you. You mean to accuse us. I own we have not covered ourselves with glory—my brother Harold ought to have taken better care of the Virtu, since it was in his charge. But though we have failed you, we have not been faithless. Threlfall has never yet betrayed its Queen.”
The Queen raised an eyebrow. “You deny conspiring with Britain to steal the Virtu?”
Georgiana snorted, setting her whiskers a-flutter. “Why should we have stolen an amulet we have guarded on your behalf for so many years? This is nothing more than an ill-natured rumour. Indeed, Your Majesty, I would counsel you not to pay too much regard to the gossip in your Court. You keep your courtiers too idle, and in consequence they invent lies to amuse themselves. They will say anything to make a sensation.”
“And what of the whispers of the return of the True Queen?” said the Queen. “You will claim those are merely the product of idleness, too, I suppose!”
Georgiana stared. “The True Queen? What has she to do with anything?” But even as the naga spoke, enlightenment dawned upon her. She said, “So that is the trouble! You fear the Virtu has fallen into Saktimuna’s grasp!”
Muna had been determined not to draw any attention to herself. But her head whipped up at the sound of her own name and Sakti’s in the naga’s mouth. She turned wide eyes on Henrietta, but all of the Englishwoman’s attention was on the Queen; she showed no sign of remarking upon the name.
“Do you dare utter that name in my presence?” roared the Queen. The tables and chairs rattled and the tapestries lifted briefly away from the walls, but this did not daunt the naga.
“It has been many years since I have seen you quail at it,” Georgiana observed. “But if you suspect your sister’s powers have been restored to her, it is no wonder you have been acting so strangely.”
“I should guard my tongue better if I were in your position, Georgiana,” said the Queen in a warning tone, but Georgiana replied, unperturbed:
“A loyal subject may always advise a wise sovereign without fearing to give offence. Do not forget it was Threlfall who supported you in your bid to rule over Fairy Within.” She sighed. “We scarcely thought then that our devotion would count for so little!”
“Devotion, indeed!” scoffed the Queen. “If you threw in your lot with me, it is only because you knew I would prevail.”
“Of course,” said Georgiana. “Why else would the greatest clan outside the Draconic Provinces have bound its fate to the younger daughter, forswearing the heir to the throne? We helped see to it that you were crowned.”
“You need not think you can hold that over my head,” snapped the Queen. “You have been amply rewarded for your services. If Threlfall was loyal because you profited from loyalty, you will not shrink from perfidy when it serves you!”
This proved too much for Georgiana’s patience. Smoke spiralled from her nostrils.
“There is no reasoning with you,” she said. “I tell you what it is. You ought never to have used your sister so ill, when she never did anything to provoke you. Usurping her throne, stealing her heart—and casting her out into the mortal realm! Everyone thought it was barbarous, and now you are suffering the consequences.”
The Queen’s eyes were glowing with a green light. Shadows gathered around her head, which seemed suddenly as distant as a mountain peak seen from the ground, wreathed with thunderclouds and lightning. “How dare you address your sovereign so?”
“If anyone had told you what was what then, you should not be so fearful now,” said Georgiana. “If you wished to betray your sister, you ought to have done it properly. It was all very well stealing her heart and depriving her of the chief source of her magic, but it was pure silliness locking her heart in the Virtu and leaving the rest of her alive. You ought to have eaten her outright. That would have ensured that you absorbed all her powers, so she could never again give you any trouble. If you had acted with decision, no rumours of the True Queen could worry you now. “
“You are offensive, Georgiana,” said the Queen of the Djinns. The floor quaked at her voice, so that Muna and Henrietta were obliged to clutch at each other to stay on their feet. “I have borne your insolence with restraint. But you are in want of a reminder of what is due to the Queen of the Hidden World!”
Whether it was the dragon’s scale she had swallowed, or simply being in the Unseen Realm that was the cause, even Muna could smell the magic that set the air around the Queen crackling. It seared through her nostrils, bringing tears to her eyes. She felt Henrietta take her elbow in a firm grip. The Englishwoman’s voice spoke into her ear:
“We must go at once, if we can. Will you lend me your magic, Muna?”
“I rather think you are due a reminder that Threlfall makes a better friend than an enemy!” thundered Georgiana. A gust of wind stirred the mortals’ hair as the naga spread her wings above them.
“Yes, but how?” whispered Muna to Henrietta. The Englishwoman started murmuring a formula under her breath.
But she was never to complete it. The Queen snapped her fingers and the doors burst open. A motley crowd of spirits poured into the hall, swarming across the room and up Georgiana’s sides with incredible rapidity.
Muna seized Henrietta’s wrist. They bolted out of the way, pushing through the mass of spirits intent on the naga’s destruction and huddling against the wall. Muna strained her eyes, studying the crowd, but she could not see Sakti among them.
Georgiana reared up, growling, but the Queen’s attendants weighed her down, forcing her wings back.
“You do not think these creatures will detain me for more than a moment?” Georgiana said. Her jaw unhinged, and from within the darkness of her maw shone a wavering blue light—the heart of a growing flame.
“Perhaps not,” agreed the Queen, “but I shan’t need more than a moment.”
She snapped her fingers again. There was a rushing in the air, a furious roar from the naga—and Georgiana shrank. Muna blinked and saw the naga on the ground, reduced to the size of a civet.
“Whoever takes her heart may have a bite of it!” said the Queen.
Her courtiers set upon Georgiana at once, so that the naga was lost amid the seething mass of bodies. Her voice could be heard, screeching reproaches, and after a moment she reappeared, breaking through the crowd. She was snapping at the heels of a monstrous black dog with glowing red eyes and a hideous array of yellow fangs.
But Georgiana was now rather smaller than the dog. It evaded her without difficulty and ran up to the Queen, dropping a glowing object at her feet.
“Oh, you blackguard!” cried Georgiana in a high cheeping voice. She lunged at the dog, knocking it off its feet, but the Queen had already scooped up the shining orb.
Georgiana froze, her face a picture of horror. The dog took its chance, pouncing on her. Though Georgiana writhed and hissed, she could not throw it off.
“This is not her heart,” said the Queen.
“Surely you don’t think I would be so foolish as to keep my heart inside myself!” snarled Georgiana. “You will never find it. It is buried deep—far too deep!”
“Well, there will be time enough to search for it,” said the Queen serenely. “Till then, this is enough of your soul-stuff to weaken you—and empower me.”
She held the stolen light aloft, gazing at it. The skin on her hands began to blister, but she did not seem to notice it.
“It is potent stuff, Threlfall’s magic,” said the Queen. “If I had the Virtu still, I should add this to its store. Since I do not . . .” She pinched off a spark from the orb, feeding it to the dog, who ate it with every sign of satisfaction.
“Oh, you jade! Ungrateful hussy!” shrieked Georgiana in an infuriated chirp.
The Queen swallowed the rest of the orb, ignoring her.
Large as the hall was, it seemed to Muna that it was far too close and hot. The ceilings pressed down upon her. Her skin itched.
She had been here before. The memory lay under her hand; she could feel the shape of it, though it would not come clear. In just the same way, she had been betrayed and robbed of her power, her struggles and resentment all for naught . . .
“Muna?” said Henrietta’s voice, penetrating her confusion. “Muna!”
“I am well,” lied Muna. She reached out blindly, steadying herself against the wall.
The Queen of the Djinns had sunk back onto her ottoman, looking pleased with herself. She raised a hand.
“Take Georgiana of Threlfall away,” she said. “And the mortals she brought with her. They are to be detained while I consider the punishment for their offences.”
Henrietta and Muna shrank against the wall, but it was impossible to hide. Dozens of pairs of eyes were fixed upon them. Not one pair was friendly, and nowhere among them could Muna see her sister.
“I cannot finish the spell,” whispered Henrietta. “Will you help me?”
“I cannot,” said Muna. The hall was spinning around her. Her head hurt abominably, and her breath came short. Even if she could formulate an appeal to the fine ones in her state, all the spirits here must have sworn allegiance to the Queen; they were unlikely to help her and Henrietta. Still, guilt wrenched at her. “I am sorry!”
She did not know if Henrietta even heard her. Before the Englishwoman could answer, the spirits fell upon them, hurrying them towards the great doors at the end of the hall. The doors opened directly onto a tunnel—a narrow space shrouded in gloom, whose end could not be seen. A musty underground smell gusted from the opening.
The spirits rushed into the tunnel, jostling their mortal burdens unmercifully.
Muna’s arm scraped against a rocky wall; her head was bumped against the ceiling. Cold water dripped on her face, and nightmarish visages surrounded her, hooting and shrieking. She drew in a terrified breath, but before she could scream, she was plunged into darkness.