QUERRY WOKE, though he didn’t remember falling asleep, in a pile of leaves that felt as though cut from velvet. He rolled to his side and swiped his hand over his face, brushing the top hat away. He pawed at his waist and felt relieved to find his night-sky clothing intact. Gradually he sat up and looked blearily around the stone hall. As soon as he stood, a light breeze whisked away his verdant bed, and it disappeared. In its place a little round stand materialized, and on top sat a silver platter of berries, cakes, tarts, cheeses and a pot of tea. Even though he knew better, Querry’s stomach, empty for two days now, compelled him to eat. Afterward he wandered through the house, looking for his host. He found his original clothing and gear on the top floor where they’d bathed and changed into it. The faerie and his serving staff remained elusive. Querry wandered about the abode. Did it connect with the modern mansion and the underground cavern? Were they one in the same somehow? He couldn’t find any way to reach beyond the foyer, bath, ballroom, and the cells where the gentleman stored his bizarre treasure. Feeling woozy and light, as if he’d breakfasted on several bottles of Reg’s good merlot instead of fruit and bread, he browsed the strange items. Some of them he couldn’t even identify. One room held dozens of mirrors. Some of them returned Querry’s reflection; he looked better than he had in ages, with smooth, glowing skin, rosy cheeks, and clear sapphire eyes. It didn’t surprise him, seeing himself thus, that the faerie gentleman lavished him with attention.
Some of the mirrors showed Querry distant paths leading up mountains or along rocky beaches. One, he felt sure, showed the road that led to the little house where Reg and Frolic waited. Querry touched the surface, and it jiggled like gelatin. He managed, with some effort, to press his fingers through the skin on the surface and feel the cold wind of the eastern climate. Doing so sapped his strength, so he quickly withdrew his hand and went to inspect the other glasses. Within one blackened frame Querry found a vast universe of fire: flame as far as his eye could see in every direction. He stared into it, mesmerized by the flickering lights and shadows. His breath caught when he noticed a tiny sliver of gold that he’d mistaken for just another tongue of flame. Squinting, he recognized the faerie gentleman far in the distance, struggling unarmed with a huge lizard made of orange light. The two of them wrestled and fought, one gaining the advantage and then the other. At one point the creature pinned the fey beneath it, and opened its mouth to strike at his head. Just in time, the gentleman spread his fingers in front of his face and shielded himself with golden light. When the lizard made contact, it fell to the side, stunned. Wasting no time, the faerie wrapped his elbow around its throat, trapping it in a headlock. Its clawed feet flailed, and its elongated body twisted for a few minutes before it fell still.
The gentleman got to his feet, swooned, and fell to his knees, head hanging. Acting on instinct, Querry pushed through the barrier to aid him. The hot air, incomparable to even the factory, scorched his skin and dried his eyes and mouth. He smelled his hair burning and felt the soles of his feet blistering, though there was nothing solid beneath them. His frantic journey to help his gentleman felt more like wading through molten wax than running. He finally reached the other man and crouched beside him.
“Querrilous,” the fey panted. “What are you doing here? Get out!”
“You’re hurt,” Querry said. Tears fell from his eyes and instantly evaporated from his cheeks. “Let me help you!”
“I am fine. Just, tired. Must finish. You, ugh—You must go back.”
“Not without you. I need you.”
“Very well. Help me up.”
Querry put his arm around the gentleman’s waist, and they staggered to their feet. The gentleman took a small bottle from somewhere within the hide loincloth he wore, uncorked it and held the open end out to the unconscious lizard. His body convulsed in Querry’s arms, and he stumbled back with a grunt. “Can’t trap it. Too weak.”
“Can I help?” Querry asked.
“Concentrate on drawing it in,” the faerie said.
Querry tried as hard as he could. Soon his whole body shook, and he couldn’t keep his footing, let alone support the faerie. Both of them crumpled, but the faerie’s arm remained extended. He cried out, and his bottle sucked the creature inside. He replaced the cork and promptly went limp in Querry’s arms. Querry tried to lift the gentleman but found himself too depleted. Instead he draped his body over his back like a shawl and held his forearms in front of his chest. Slowly he made his way toward the silver rectangle so far in the distance. When he reached it, though, he hadn’t the strength to push through.
“Sir!” Querry hissed. “We need to get through. I can’t do it. Please wake up.”
The gentleman didn’t respond. Sparkles danced at the edges of Querry’s vision; he knew he wouldn’t survive much longer.
“Sir!” He reached over his shoulder and swatted the side of the faerie’s head. Finally he jolted awake, grumbling. “Get us out of here,” Querry urged.
He waved his hand and said a word like soft rain against the surface of a lake, and the two of them somersaulted through the portal. They landed on their backs in the stone room, and Querry didn’t even have the energy to lift his head. His skin still felt on fire. Even his innards burned. His charred throat choked on a sob of pain. His eyes closed on their own, and he didn’t know if they’d open again. With his last scrap of strength, he turned toward the gentleman and said, “If I don’t make it, please promise me you’ll fix Frolic anyway.”
“Don’t, make it?” the fey croaked with a dry chuckle. “Ridiculous.” He said another word in his tongue. To Querry it resembled gentle thunder. He could smell the storm, and soon felt refreshing rain on his face. When he could open his eyes again, he saw dark clouds covering the ceiling. Healing water fell over his singed body and pooled inches thick on the floor. Querry opened his mouth and let it trickle down his throat. For a long time he just lay in the cool dampness. Soon he felt as good as new. He looked at his exposed fingertips, expecting blisters, and found none.
The gentleman sat up beside him, his wet hair dripping down his svelte torso. He looked at Querry with unmasked awe and admiration. “I wasn’t wrong about you,” he said, touching Querry’s cheekbone. “You were brilliant. I never would have imagined one of your kind could accomplish something like that. We two shall do great things. We’ll be legends.”
“What was that thing?” Querry asked.
The fey held the bottle out to Querry, who took it. He studied the tiny lizard twisting and turning through the ether within.
“Elemental salamander,” the gentleman said. “The very spirit of fire.”
“Two out of four, yes?”
“Indeed! And the worst is over. If you feel well enough to continue on, we can collect the rest of what we need with ease. What do you say?”
“Actually, I feel incredible,” Querry said.
“Jolly good!” The faerie got to his feet and extended his hand, helping Querry to stand. “You and I, then. What an excellent match we’ve made!”
“DON’T FIDGET, Querrilous,” the gentleman scolded. “I’ve assured you we’re perfectly safe. They cannot see us nor hear us. Calm down before I take offense at your lack of faith in me.”
“No, sir,” Querry said. “You’ve been perfect, and I thank you. This place is just so mournful. I can feel the sickness and despair.”
“Yes, now that I’ve given you my sight, you’ll sense such things much more acutely. For what it’s worth, it is worse for me.”
“Sorry.” Querry reached out and took his hand, squeezing the delicate bones as they moved between the closely packed, narrow cots. The faerie squeezed back with his smooth, cool hand. Querry wondered if it was wrong to love him, to want him. He wondered if his feelings were authentic, if he could trust himself. He decided to concentrate on the task at hand. He looked at the sick and dying around him. The religious order of women who cared for them had retired for the night. A few hanging lanterns lit the faces of the factory workers, orphans, and vagrants who’d come here because they had nowhere else to go. Querry knew most of them would never leave; the sisters would feed them and dress their wounds, but they could do little more than keep them comfortable until the end came. In the shadowed corners of the long, narrow room, Querry could almost feel Death waiting to claim his due.
Eager to leave, he approached the foot of one of the beds. A middle-aged man lay upon it, his left leg missing from the knee down and a foul smell wafting from the dressing. Querry knew the wound was likely infected, and caused the man to thrash and perspire in his sleep. “What about this fellow?” Querry asked, drawing his gentleman closer by the hand. “Looks like a fever dream to me.”
The faerie smiled coldly as he watched the injured man’s glistening face. “Yes, he is dreaming of hell. He left his wife and young daughter in the countryside, and promised to return for them as soon as he’d found work in the city. Instead, he squandered his meager wages on gambling, whores, and gin. His family starved to death. They’re pointing at him with their bony fingers while demons gnaw on his leg.”
“Won’t you gather it up so we can be off?” Querry said, sweating himself now.
“This will never do,” the gentleman told Querry. “The structure of the dream I choose to weave into the spell will have a profound effect on your companion. A horrible thing like this could turn him quite dark. Let’s check some of these others. This little girl is dreaming of the night her father beat her mother to death, and this poor bastard is being chased by circus bears.” He chuckled. “Many of them are dreaming about sex. Or eating.”
His statement raised a question in Querry’s mind. “If the dream we choose is so important, I can only assume the love oaths are just as significant. I mean, the squeals of back alley whores probably won’t do.”
“You’re correct,” the fey said as he continued to inspect the sleepers, bending close to some of their faces as if doing so gave him a better view inside their heads. “The words themselves are not important. It’s the passion behind them that the spell requires. We’ll need to find lovers with a strong desire for one another. But first, the dream! We may need to look elsewhere. There is nothing but misery within these walls.”
Querry passed baskets holding babies covered in the sores that resulted from diseases that went best unmentioned. He saw a poor woman with lumps deforming her face, and some lepers mummy-wrapped in filthy rags. “What about this one?” he asked, motioning his companion toward an elderly woman who’d probably once been quite handsome. Though she sweated and writhed, a smile twisted her lips and now and then she giggled like a girl.
“She’s very sick,” the gentleman said gravely. “The fever will take her soon. Tonight or tomorrow. Let’s see.” He held his long fingers above the gray, creased brow. “Ah! She’s dreaming of her childhood tending sheep in the northern mountains. Her dogs are licking her face and the lambs are frolicking about her feet. What’s this? Memories of my people? It seems she had some of my kind as friends and playmates, and she’s recalling fondly their games of hide and seek among the heather fields and forests. She’s lifting her skirts to run across a small stream—” He rubbed his thumbs against the tips of his fingers and his tongue worked against his upper lip as he concentrated. Querry noticed a round, glowing patch form at the center of the woman’s forehead. The gentleman snatched the end between his thumb and finger and slowly brought forth a long strand of shimmering greens and golds. It twisted in his grasp like a garden snake caught by the tail. He uncorked another of his bottles and stowed it away in his jacket pocket.
Just as the two of them turned to leave, the woman opened her eyes. A wide grin broke across her ancient face when she saw the faerie gentleman. “It’s you! You’ve come for me at last!” Then confusion stole her joy, and she shook her head despondently. “No, I’m mistaken, aren’t I? I thought you were somebody else.”
“I am sorry, Madam,” he said with no real compassion.
“Could you help me?” she pleaded, reaching for him with an age-stiffened hand. He stepped back to avoid being touched.
“I don’t know what I could possibly do for you,” he said, “or what you could offer me in exchange.”
“Oh, sir!” Querry said, but a dangerous glare silenced him.
“Aye,” she said bitterly. “You’ve already taken the only good thing I had left.”
Sighing with impatience, the gentleman made a quick, complex gesture in the air. When his hand stilled, it held a sprig of mountain heather. He placed it beside the old woman’s head. She nestled closer to it, breathed deeply of its fragrance and fell back to sleep. “I simply didn’t want her resentment tainting the dream,” he explained. Querry lowered his head to hide his smile. “Now if we could please take our leave of this ghastly place!”
“Thank you, sir,” Querry said, hurrying to keep up with him.