Beneath the Palace of the Unseen, Fairyland
“THE MAGIC HERE must be making me ill,” said Sakti. She shook her head violently. “For a moment I thought you said I was the Queen’s sister!”
“I did,” said Muna. It was a relief that the words were out, though Sakti and Henrietta both looked at her as though she had lost her wits. She did not blame them. They had not heard the serpent’s drowsy thoughts. They did not know all Muna knew. “You are.”
Muna could not remember when she had last seen Sakti anxious on her behalf. The expression sat awkwardly on Sakti’s face. She touched Muna’s arm.
“Do you feel quite well, kak?” she said. “Some mortals don’t take well to the Unseen Realm. One hears of human magicians who run mad, or pine away . . .”
“Listen, adik. When I was in England, I had a vision—two visions,” Muna corrected herself. “The Sorceress Royal hosted a celebration a few days after I arrived, and while I was waiting to be taken there, I thought I saw you in the halls of the Academy.”
“So your malady began then!” said Sakti. She put a hand on Muna’s forehead. “Do you feel feverish? What else did you see, or hear? Pak Husin heard voices when his brother-in-law cursed him.”
“There are no voices; I am not ill.” Muna removed Sakti’s hand from her forehead, determined to finish her tale. “It was not you I saw. It was Miss Midsomer—I had mistaken her for you, though you look nothing alike. At the time I dismissed my error, but my vision was truer than I knew. I saw you in Clarissa Midsomer, because she wore the Virtu. My second vision came when Miss Stapleton taught us a spell for divining the present—”
“Surely divining the future would be more useful.”
It seemed to Muna that Sakti was being obtuse. “I wished to know where you were,” she said. “Miss Stapleton was so good as to adapt a divination spell for the purpose. I asked the fine ones to show me a vision of you, but they took me into the past, and I saw—Saktimuna!”
She lingered over the syllables, looking expectantly at Sakti, but there was no change in her sister’s expression.
“What,” said Sakti, “is Saktimuna?”
“Oh,” said Muna, deflated—but there was no reason Sakti should know the name, or remember that it was hers. Sakti remembered nothing else, after all. “It is the true name of the True—of the Great Serpent.”
“Yes,” said Henrietta. “Georgiana Without Ruth referred to the Fairy Queen’s sister by that name. It put the Queen in a horrid passion!”
“I am not surprised,” said Sakti, impressed. “The true name of a great spirit is not a thing to fling about carelessly. No wonder the Queen is so afraid of Threlfall, if they dare speak the Great Serpent’s name.”
“Adik, do you remember the spell we found in the English king’s house in Malacca?” said Muna. “When you asked the spirits, Whose magic is this? the first answer they gave was Saktimuna. We thought it was a mistake, but it was the truth. It was only that we did not understand it. The magic in you was Saktimuna’s—because you are what remained of the Great Serpent, after her heart was stolen by the Queen of the Djinns.”
But even this did not convince Sakti. In her doubt she unbent so far as to give Henrietta a look, as much as to say, Can you believe what she is saying?
Henrietta said to Muna gently, as one might speak to a person seized by an ague, “You said you had a vision of this Great Serpent in our class. What did you see?”
“The Serpent was sleeping in the seas around Janda Baik,” said Muna, not looking away from Sakti. “She had been thrown down there when her magic was stolen from her.” She paused, recalling the wounded serpent beneath the waves and the great grievance of which it was only half-conscious. She understood now why its thoughts should have felt so familiar. Who knew Sakti better than Muna? “The Serpent was angry, but too weak to do anything about it. I don’t believe she was properly awake.”
“Georgiana did say the Fairy Queen exiled her sister to the mortal realm,” said Henrietta slowly.
But if she was beginning to be swayed, Sakti was not.
“You may not feel ill, but I don’t think you can be quite well, you know, kak,” said Sakti, shaking her head. “We must leave this place as soon as we can. It’s clear the air doesn’t suit you.”
Muna glared at her. If only Sakti would, for once in her life, accept Muna’s authority as the elder! But that was an unhappy thought, for it reminded Muna that they were not sisters at all. In truth she had no authority over Sakti, nor any real bond to her. She was merely a mortal who, lost in the storm, had stumbled upon the Great Serpent, with the result that the spirit had attached itself to her in its confusion.
“Why else would the Duke of the Navel of the Seas have summoned you, of all persons?” Muna demanded. “The Virtu holds the Great Serpent’s heart. The Duke must have intended to call her forth.”
Sakti chortled suddenly. “If he did, small wonder he was disappointed to get me instead! But this will not do, kak. If I were the Serpent, he would have known me.”
“There is no reason he would have recognised you. After all, you lack the best part of your powers—your heart. That was taken from you and stored in the Virtu. You are only the remnants of the Serpent—the scrapings of spirit that were left after her core was hollowed out.”
“That is complimentary!” said Sakti airily, but Muna could tell her resistance was weakening. Sakti looked vexed, as she always did when she suspected she was about to be bested in a disagreement. It was strange to be fighting to persuade her of an idea so unwelcome to Muna herself, but—Sakti was owed the truth. Muna pressed her advantage.
“When you first entered the halls of this Palace, did not you feel that you knew them?” she said. “From the way you speak of the Queen’s Court, anyone would think you had passed a lifetime here, when you have known it for less than a fortnight.”
“Oh, it is my fault now that I am clever and adaptable?” snapped Sakti. “And who are you meant to be? Saktimuna contains your name as well. Perhaps it is you who are the Great Serpent. You have not considered that!”
Muna had in fact thought about this. “Remember the night I found you? I must have been out on the sea when the storm came on. We were both cast upon the shore; you were confused, and you named me after yourself. It is not as though I could be the Great Serpent, when I have no magic at all!”
Henrietta had been too polite to interrupt before, but now she said, “What do you mean, Muna? You do have magic. I have seen it.”
Henrietta’s voice gave Muna an unpleasant start. She had almost forgotten the Englishwoman’s presence, or she might have taken more care about her words. It was not how she would have chosen to reveal her deception to Henrietta, but she could hardly turn back now.
“That magic was borrowed,” she said reluctantly. “I was only sent to the Academy as a companion to my sis—to Sakti. It was she who was Mak Genggang’s protégée; I worked in the witch’s kitchen.”
“Oh,” said Henrietta. It was all she said—she uttered no reproach—but the look in her grey eyes struck Muna to the heart.
“I am sorry to have misled you,” she began, but Sakti said impatiently:
“What does it matter if my “sister” has magic or not? She is not obliged to tell you everything about herself. I am sure there is a great deal you have withheld from her!”
Distressed as Muna was, the word “sister” in Sakti’s voice warmed her, but her pleasure in it faded at Henrietta’s expression.
“No,” said Henrietta. Her voice was precise and emotionless. “That is not so.”
But Sakti had already turned to Muna, demanding, “Supposing I am the Serpent, kak, what do you wish me to do about it?”
Muna cast a desperate look at Henrietta, but the Englishwoman would not meet her eyes. This gave Muna a pang, more painful than she would have calculated on. But contrition, explanations, reconciliation must all wait. There were greater matters at hand.
“Only what I said,” she said to Sakti. “We must recover the Virtu. You must have your heart back.”
Sakti’s eyes were wide. “But even if you are right . . . what happens once I have it?”
It was bittersweet to have Sakti look to her for guidance, as though they were sisters still. Muna took comfort in it, though with every word she spoke she knew she was severing the bond that meant most to her.
Whatever she decides, she thought, it will never be as it was between us.
Still, Muna’s voice was steady as she said, “That is your decision. But you will be at liberty to make it. No one should have any hold over you.”
Sakti stared at her. Then she flung her arms around Muna, making her stagger.
“I do not deserve such a sister,” she said in a voice muffled against Muna’s shoulder.
Muna returned her embrace, only raising a hand to dry her eyes.
“You do not!” she agreed.
“But how shall we get to England to recover the Virtu?” said Sakti. “The border is closed. The Queen’s subjects may not travel to Britain, any more than the British are permitted to come here. I thought perhaps that was what had delayed you, though I put all my magic into my spell to summon you here.”
Unexpectedly, Henrietta spoke.
“We were able to enter Fairy because of Georgiana Without Ruth,” she said. “She is head of the clan of Threlfall and they have never paid any regard to the Queen’s ban on travel to Britain. Mr. Threlfall resides in London, but he visits his relations in Threlfall regularly, and Georgiana seems to cross the border whenever the fancy strikes her.”
“You mean we should ask Georgiana for help?” said Muna. “But she surrendered us to be eaten by the Queen!”
Henrietta still would not look directly at Muna, but she answered, “Georgiana is not likely to betray us to the Queen now that they have fallen out. And if Sakti can arrange for her release from prison, I should think Georgiana would be willing to help us in return. Fairies have a strict sense of honour, and they dislike being beholden in matters of life and death.”
“Could you free the naga from her prison?” said Muna to Sakti doubtfully. “Come to that, how did you manage to come into our cell? Was not the entrance barred by magic?”
“Yes. But the cells are trees, as I told you,” said Sakti. “All I did was tell the tree spirits that I had been sent by the True Queen. Hardly anyone has spoken to them in a great long while, save the Queen’s Guard, who only give them orders. You would be surprised how pleased they are to hear a friendly voice!”
“I don’t think I would be surprised,” said Muna, thinking of the spirit who had granted her her vision of Saktimuna. “Ordinary civility seems a rare commodity among spirits!”
“As I recall, Miss Sakti, you said there was a fire-breathing lizard in the tree next to us,” said Henrietta. “I suppose it did not happen to mention its name?”
IT was strange to emerge from the light of the grove into the darkness beneath the Palace of the Unseen. Muna had no recollection of the space, though she and Henrietta must have passed through it when the Queen’s attending spirits had captured them.
They stood in a vast dim cavern, in the centre of which was a rank of pillars. Upon inspection these were revealed to be trees made of rock, with branching stiriae, like boughs. A delicate tracery of leaves was marked upon the ceiling, and a web of knobbly roots offered to stub the toes and bruise the shins of the unwary.
The only faint light was shed by lamps affixed to the trees. Muna glanced up at these and froze. Beneath the crystal shade was no wick, but a very small person—smaller even than the polong, for Muna could have held him in the palm of her hand. He was swathed in translucent drapery, which did nothing to preserve his modesty; its purpose was evidently to soften the harsh light shining from him, for his entire person gave off a silver glow. His countenance was blank, the eyes gazing sightlessly ahead.
“Adik,” whispered Muna. “What—who is that?”
“What? Oh, the lights,” said Sakti when she followed Muna’s gaze. “They are imps who once displeased the Queen. They are like fireflies—give a good light when they are well-fed. She has them all over the Palace.” She frowned at the lamp. “They are usually brighter. I expect these have been starved for a dungeon-like effect.”
The imp took no notice of them.
“Are they . . . alive?” said Muna.
“Oh yes,” said Sakti. “Sometimes they weep.”
Looking at Henrietta, Muna was a little comforted to see her own horror reflected in the Englishwoman’s face. She had always known that Sakti could be callous, but it had never before struck her that perhaps Sakti’s insensibility was on an inhuman scale.
“You will free them, I hope,” she began, “when—that is to say, if—”
“This is the one that had the lizard,” said Sakti, pointing at a tree.
She did not appear to have heard Muna, and Muna was glad of it, for she had spoken without thinking. To require Sakti to adopt any particular course once she had recovered her heart was precisely what Muna meant not to do. Yet she found herself already assuming that Sakti meant to regain the throne—that she would wish to rule over the realms of the Unseen as their rightful Queen.
“I think we had better bring the lizard out here,” decided Sakti. “There was a desert inside the tree and it was intolerably hot—most uncomfortable.”
She laid her hand on the bole of the tree. A susurrant voice spoke, making Henrietta and Muna jump:
“Who approaches?”
“It is the emissary of your Queen,” said Sakti in her grandest manner. “We wish to speak with the naga you hold. Pray discharge her.”
The faint rustling voice said, “Give me the True Queen’s blessing, mistress, and it shall be done.”
Sakti traced a symbol on the bark. A grinding noise started up, as of stone scraping against stone.
“What blessing was that?” whispered Muna.
“I invented it,” murmured Sakti.
The tree began to tremble, so that the vibration could be felt in the stone beneath their feet. A dark gap opened in the trunk, hot air blasting out from it. Distant roaring filled the air.
Henrietta retreated hastily, but Sakti remained where she stood, peering into the gap.
“Come away, adik!” cried Muna, tugging at Sakti’s arm, but they did not move fast enough.
When Georgiana Without Ruth burst from her prison, she knocked them both to the ground.
“The nerve of it! The unspeakable cheek!” bellowed Georgiana, revealing sharp teeth in a terrible red mouth. “The Court will rue the day it dared to use a Threlfall with such contumely!”
She reared up, her claws pricking Muna’s flesh through her clothes. This was not comfortable, but it was not as debilitating as it might have been, for the spell the Queen had cast on the naga was still in effect. Georgiana was as Muna had seen her last—no larger than a civet.
“I shall pay out that jumped-up hussy,” cried Georgiana in a voice like the enraged clucking of a chicken. “I shall teach her such a lesson. If she thinks her stolen crown will preserve her from the vengeance of Georgiana Without Ruth, she will find she is mistaken!”
She fixed a red-eyed glare upon Sakti and Muna, so furious she did not seem to recognise Muna.
“But first,” growled the naga, “I must have sustenance!”
“You can’t eat us,” said Sakti, undaunted. “It was me who freed you. It would be exceedingly ungrateful in you to devour me for my pains!”
“And who are you?”
“I should have thought you of all people would know me,” said Sakti, with as much composure as though she were not sprawled beneath the naga. “I am the True Queen, of course. My friends called me Saktimuna in days of old.”
“Nonsense!” sputtered the naga.
But Sakti’s declaration operated upon her like a dousing in cold water. Georgiana lowered her wings, and the red light in her eyes died down.
Sakti took the opportunity to sit up and shove her off. Georgiana was so astonished that she slid to the ground without complaint.
“No,” said the naga, “it can’t be.” But then:
“It is you,” said Georgiana in wonder. “But reduced—oh, shamefully reduced! Your own sister would not know you.”
“She did not,” agreed Sakti.
“Why, a single swipe of the paw would kill you!”
Sakti’s smile flickered.
“If it were your paw, mistress, there can be no doubt of that,” Muna said quickly. Georgiana was plainly in no humour to help the Fairy Queen, but Threlfall had betrayed Saktimuna once before—they could not be too careful. “It would certainly delight the Queen of the Djinns if you were to deliver her sister to her. But it seems a shame when she has used you so ill. After you brought her gifts, too, and bore with shocking incivility from her attendants!”
“Did my sister do all that?” said Sakti to the naga. “How like her to have rewarded your loyalty so!” She shook her head. “Some people have no sense of their debts—do not know how to be grateful. Now, I have never failed to return a favour. Once I regain my throne, I shall not forget those who helped me. They will find in me a faithful and loving friend!”
“Of course we could not presume to advise you, ma’am,” added Henrietta, raising limpid grey eyes to Georgiana. “But laying yourself out to please the Queen has not produced happy results so far. Might not it answer better to try disobliging her?”
Georgiana settled back on her haunches, crossing her forelegs and fixing a knowing eye on them.
“I see what you are about,” she said—but she sounded amused. Muna and Henrietta exchanged a look of relief. “You need not think you will get around me with sweet words!”
“Even sweet words of vengeance?” said Sakti.
Georgiana showed her teeth, charmed. “You are Saktimuna! She always knew just what to say to get her way.”
The naga paused. It was only once she had taken several moments to relish their apprehension that she went on. “It is true the Queen was offensive. Her years of power have gone to the girl’s head! But it is a heady brew. Who is to say you will not do the same?”
“I say so,” said Sakti. “And if I know anything of this Court, my sister will even now be marshalling her troops to take Threlfall. She will wish to act before your absence has begun to give your clan concern.”
“We have been prepared for an attack since the loss of the Virtu was discovered,” said Georgiana. “Threlfall will not be cheaply won.”
“No, I expect not,” said Sakti. She sighed. “But it is a pity, when one thinks of the sad loss of life! If I were restored to my former glories, I could ensure that Threlfall’s ancient title to its lands was respected.”
“You do not have the Virtu, then?” said Georgiana. “Your sister feared you might.”
“Not yet,” said Sakti meaningfully.
“But we know where it is to be found,” said Muna. “It is in Britain. Will you help us get there?”
“Only if you feel equal to the task, of course,” said Sakti. “In your reduced state!”
Georgiana bridled. “I would counsel you, Saktimuna, to refrain from insulting persons from whom you desire aid!”
But it seemed Sakti had hit upon the truth, for the naga continued, “I shall recover my full strength in time. Your sister could not deal me any lasting injury, since I have hidden my heart away. You would have been wise to do the same! But if you desire me to open a way between the worlds now . . .”
Sakti glanced at Muna, who nodded.
“I think we should leave as soon as we can,” said Sakti.
“I shall require a restorative,” said Georgiana. Her amber gaze turned to Henrietta and Muna. “I do not need much. A dose of mortal spirit would suffice to recruit my energies. Which of these two can you do better without?”
“Oh, if a mortal will do, you may as well take the Englishwoman,” said Sakti.
“Adik!” cried Muna, scandalised. Alarmed, Henrietta inched closer to her. Muna pressed her hand in reassurance. “Miss Stapleton is my friend. And,” she added, when Sakti looked unconvinced, “she is a friend of the Sorceress Royal. We shall need help to recover the Virtu once we are in England. It would be injudicious to offend their arch-witch by sacrificing her oldest friend.”
“The Sorceress Royal need never know,” argued Sakti. “We could say we’d lost her friend in the Unseen Realm—tell her the Queen took her.”
“No!”
“I could eat this one instead,” said Georgiana to Sakti, nodding at Muna.
“Try it,” said Sakti, her eyes flashing, “and you shall discover in me a temper even worse than my sister’s!”
“Hush, adik,” said Muna, though the sign of attachment pleased her.
“Then I can do nothing for you,” said Georgiana, vexed. “We may as well all be reconciled to being devoured by your sister at her banquet. It will serve you out for your foolish obstinacy!”
“Kak, you must see that someone must be sacrificed,” said Sakti in her most reasonable tone.
Muna shook her head. An idea had come to her, sparked by the faint gleam of light off Georgiana’s scales.
“There is something else I can offer,” she said.
After all, it was borrowed magic, she thought. I must be able to give it back.
Muna thumped herself on the chest. At first nothing happened, but at her second attempt she seemed to feel something dislodge inside her.
A third blow—gold light flickered at the tips of her fingers, and a cough rose in her chest, bringing tears to her eyes. Encouraged, Muna thumped herself yet again. This time when she started coughing she did not stop.
They were great, racking coughs; each rumbled through her body like an earthquake. Muna heard Sakti and Henrietta’s voices raised in concern, but she held up her hand, warding them off. A crisis approached. She was almost at the point—almost—
She clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes streaming, and brought up the scale.
“Stand back,” she gasped when she could speak.
Muna straightened up, holding out her hand to the naga. Rollo Threlfall’s scale gleamed wetly on her palm.
“That’s disgusting!” exclaimed Sakti. “What is it?”
But before she could look closer, the naga’s head darted out on her long neck. A rough tongue flicked over Muna’s palm. Muna snatched her hand away with a cry, but fortunately her fingers were intact. Georgiana had only plucked the scale off her palm.
The naga swallowed and said, “This is Rollo’s!”
“Yes,” said Muna. Georgiana seemed less cross than might have been expected, but all the same Muna was glad Sakti stood between her and the naga. “He lent it to me so that I could find your cavern and rescue Mr. Damerell.”
“That is how you got around my wards, is it? Let us go to Britain, by all means,” said Georgiana grimly. “I am sure Rollo is there, and I shall have a great deal to say to him!”
“Have you sufficient magic now?” said Sakti.
“There was some good Threlfall magic in that scale,” Georgiana allowed. “Still, Rollo was the runt of his litter. A whole mortal would settle the point beyond doubt.”
She directed a hungry glance towards Henrietta and Muna, but Henrietta was looking away.
“Did you hear that?” she said.
When they had all fallen silent, they could hear metal chiming against metal, and the heavy tread of many feet—the noise of an advancing crowd.
“The Queen’s Guard,” said Sakti, turning pale.
“You have been betrayed,” said Georgiana. She glared at the stone trees. “I’d wager it was one of these disreputable creatures that did it. I should set fire to the lot if I were you!”
Even as she spoke, Georgiana was transforming, expanding at a remarkable rate. First she was the size of a donkey, then a water buffalo, then finally a small elephant—though she stopped there, short of her original size.
“Come along, now,” the naga said. “There is no time to waste!” As they stared, she added, “To ride a Threlfall is an honour not many people have survived. I shall expect a queenly reward for this, Saktimuna!”
“You shall have it,” said Sakti. But she did not climb up onto the naga. Instead she said to Muna, “Go on, kak. I will come—after I have seen to the trees!”
“What is there to see to?” Muna protested.
But Sakti had already disappeared into the dark spaces between the pillars. Muna hesitated, wondering whether to follow her, but Georgiana snapped:
“Do you wish to be devoured by the Fairy Queen?”
“I shall only be a moment!” cried Sakti’s voice from among the trees.
“Shall we go, Muna?” said Henrietta. Her voice was steady. She would not admit to being afraid, but her hand was cold on Muna’s arm, and it trembled like a leaf in the wind.
They climbed onto the naga’s back together, helping each other up as the army of spirits approached. Chittering voices could now be heard, interspersed with the occasional uncanny howl.
“Banshees!” said Georgiana. Her scales were dry and smooth, like those of a snake, covering muscles that quivered with tension as Muna crawled over them.
Sakti appeared in a gap between the trees, looking dissatisfied.
“It was not them who gave us away,” she said. “Oh, this will vex me!”
“What does it matter?” said Muna. She leant over the naga’s side, holding out her hands. “Come along!”
Sakti shinned up the naga’s flank with a practised air; she might have ridden a dragon dozens of times before. Muna reached for her hand.
But all at once the cavern swarmed with spirits, their shrieks so piercing that Muna clapped her hands to her ears. In the darkness she could only see the spirits in brief flashes—here a ghostly visage framed by streaming hair; there a gaping mouth limned with blood. All else was a nightmarish muddle of bodies and limbs, hands and paws clutching at Georgiana.
But the naga was not to be so easily caught. Her muscles bunched and she leapt off the ground. Muna would have fallen from her perch if not for Henrietta. The Englishwoman had seized the naga’s neck with one hand and Muna with the other.
Muna saw Sakti slide off the naga’s back into the seething crowd.
“Adik!” Muna lunged forward, or tried to, but Henrietta’s arm was like a band of steel around Muna’s person.
“Wait, wait,” cried Henrietta. “Mistress Threlfall, wait!”
Her voice was drowned out by Georgiana’s roar. The naga unhinged her jaw, issuing a crimson jet of flame. The spirits fell back, wailing, and the naga rose in the air.
It seemed they must inevitably come to grief against the ceiling. Muna was distantly conscious of Henrietta flinching, but Muna was not afraid for herself. She was vainly trying to make out Sakti in the crowd below when the stone ceiling parted above them, as though it were nothing more than mist blown away by a gust of wind.
Georgiana’s wings flapped once, twice, and then they were out—not in the Palace of the Unseen, but out of doors. Above them stretched a dark sky, with a few stars scattered across its surface. Half-veiled by cloud, the serene white face of the moon watched as Georgiana sailed across the sky, flinging off the weight of the Unseen with every powerful beat of her wings.
Muna saw none of this. She could only see Sakti’s face, surprised and slightly indignant as she went down under the crush of spirits. She could hear someone weeping, making an extraordinary racket, but she could not spare any attention for them. It was of vital importance that she get down and find Sakti, but something held her in place—an iron grip.
As she struggled, she could feel the grip weaken. She would break free in a moment—
“Hold on to me, Muna,” pleaded a voice. It was familiar, though distorted by distress. It was Henrietta who spoke.
“You must help me,” said Henrietta, “or we shall both fall!”
The urgency in her voice penetrated through Muna’s horror. Muna’s vision cleared.
They were high in the sky—miles, at least, from the cavern where they had left Sakti. The Palace was nowhere to be seen. And it was Muna herself who was making that woebegone noise, something between a sob and a wail.
She stopped struggling. She could not quite suppress the noise, but she must have contrived to moderate it, for Georgiana said irritably:
“Has she returned to her senses? I never heard such a caterwauling in my life!”
Muna tried to swallow the caterwauling, but it stuck in her throat, unwieldy as her grief. She looked down. Her hands hung limp, shaking uncontrollably. Underneath them lay a slumbering dark country.
“This is England,” said Henrietta. “We are home!”
Behind them was the night sky, the clouds bright with reflected moonlight. Muna could see no trace of the path Georgiana had opened from Fairy to England—nothing marking the boundary between the seen and unseen worlds. On the other side of that imperceptible border was Sakti—lost to her, now, forever.