Descent into the Depths of the Earth

“We… we have spoken of philosophy, you and I. Rememberwhat we once said about what we owe to future generations? Can you picture it clearly in your mind?”

“Yes, my lady.” The Justicar remembered. “You showed me theway that new ideas grow.”

“Then you will know how much I owe to my family and my clan.You know that I now wish to leave my life of wandering and embrace the court. I must leave you and do what is right and proper.”

Jus bowed his head and slowly closed his hands. “Yes, mylady.”

“I… I will be married in three days time. I do not thinkwe will meet again.”

Escalla jerked away and hid her face. Bored by the tedium of it all, Tielle clicked her fingers and summoned a serving girl.

“Justicar, Clan Nightshade wishes to thank and reward you foryour services as guard and guide to our daughter.” Tielle seemed in a hurry tobe elsewhere. “Escalla has indicated suitable gifts.”

The girl allowed her servant to pass out the items one by one.

“Polk. To you, we offer this magic wine bottle. Speak intothe bottle’s mouth, and it will refill itself one thousand times with whateverliquor you care to name.”

Looking desolate and appalled, Polk numbly accepted the bottle. Tielle took another gift from the serving girl behind her.

“For the hell hound, we offer this. It is a vial containingall the scents we have found in many worlds. A toy, but you may have some pleasure from it.” Escalla’s sister turned a measured glance at the Justicar.“For you, Justicar, we offer these scrolls. We are told spells are something youcan utilize. Also, Escalla says you have need of diamond dust.”

The huge man bowed slowly and said, “I thank you.”

“Escalla asks that you take her old clothes with you when yougo. She never wishes to see them again.”

Escalla slowly walked over to stand before the Justicar. Still unable to lift her face, she held out her tiny hand. “Good-bye, Justicar.”

“Good-bye, my lady.” The Justicar knelt, closed his eyes fora long moment, and quietly kissed her hand. Faerie tears stung salt into his lips. “It has been a privilege and a pleasure to serve you.” Faerie fingerssqueezed Jus’ hand. “May justice forever be yours.”

He rose and bowed. A servant held out a hand to show him to a gate that led back to the world of summer rainstorms and morning frost. Escalla turned away, unable to watch him go. One hand covered her face, and the other clutched tightly against her heart.

Dawn in the faerie lands was an arbitrary affair. If it hadbeen inconveniently pale, bright or rainy, one or more faeries would have been sure to smooth it over with illusions. The illusions were easily seen through by those who could be bothered, but few bothered. The faeries drew few lines between illusion and reality, preferring to discuss the virtues of real versus unreal for long hours over steaming cups of tea. Or possibly cups of not- tea. Illusion had a way like that.

Sitting in a room decorated for a good little daughter, Escalla propped her elbows on her knees and sighed. These were not her old rooms. Those had been turned into guest apartments long ago, and Tarquil now snored in Escalla’s old bed. Mother had created a new room for her errantdaughter, one more suitably fashioned to her image of the perfect child.

The decor was mostly fuchsia pink. Escalla felt her entire intestinal tract rebel.

She sat looking into the slowglass gem. A white wedding dress as big as a whale hung from one wall-a dress covered with seed pearls andbeautiful enough to stop any normal woman’s heart. There were paintings on thewall, real paintings. There were color shifting rugs upon the floor- unreal.The view from the windows showed any one of a dozen illusory scenes of imagined grandeur. It all had the grainy, almost greasy quality that Escalla had come to associate with all her childhood memories.

All of her memories before she escaped into the real world. .

Wearing a dress simply felt weird, but Escalla bore it. She sat staring at the fantasies conjured by the windows, until a knock at the door brought a presence sweeping into her room.

With a flurry of servants and a flutter of gorgeous wings, Cavalier Tarquil stood at the entrance of Escalla’s apartment and sank into arather oily bow.

“Brightflower Maid! How much more refreshing than the dawn isyour brilliant smile.”

Escalla rose, flipped out her wings, and made a curtsy carefully measured to keep the suitor at bay. Even so, she felt his eyes travel down her cleavage as she bowed. Escalla hissed, caught herself, and pulled part of her face into a smile.

Her mother had spies all around. A scrying spell would be on her, and there would be an invisible creature lurking in every room. In a society of shapeshifters, any object of the right size and mass was instantly suspect. Escalla had already kicked most of the furniture and felt tremors of pain in reply.

They were watching her for spells, for any attempt to escape. They would be reporting Escalla’s right behavior to a mother who was as deadlyas a dracolich. Escalla kept her face stiff and her thoughts to herself as she turned to invite the cavalier onto her balcony.

“Cavalier.”

The man had a bodyguard, a scarred duelist from his own clan that clandestinely cast a detection spell. Leading the way to the balcony, Escalla caught the motion from the corner of her eye.

“Oh, I can assure you we are being watched. There’s no pointin wasting a spell.”

“Ah, dear maid. It is not whether there is a spell, butwho has thrown the spell.” Tarquil’s voice was polished and as silky as hissilver sword. “Sad to say, a man can sometimes acquire enemies.”

Cavalier Tarquil wore twelve kill ribbons on his sleeves-mementos of duels gone by. Escalla gave a sarcastic lift of her eye andsaid, “I can’t imagine why.”

“You disapprove of dueling, dear?” Tarquil snapped hisfingers. A servant ran forward to supply him with wine. “It is a righteoussport.”

“Sport?”

“Of course.” The cavalier gave a mocking smile to Escalla.“Shall the pot call the kettle black, my dear? You have an impressive killrecord of your own-monsters, creatures, brigands. It sounds like quite thelittle crusade.”

Escalla bit back a savage reply, half turned away, then flew over the balcony railing to land in the garden. Today, her father’s gardens werea fantasy of roses. Even the grass seemed to be fashioned out of tiny little flowers, all illusory, all slightly false to an eye that loved the glorious imperfections of the real world. Escalla walked onward for a way then stood still as she felt eyes running over her from behind.

She turned and glared at the cavalier.

“Quit looking at my butt!”

“Your pardon, maid, but it is a most noteworthy rear.” Thecavalier toyed with his sword. “When my father informed me of this match, Inever once thought that it might prove to be so… beneficial.”

Escalla flicked her shirts out to hide the benefits in question.

“The benefits aren’t yours yet, bub!”

“No? A shame.” The cavalier took a swift, searching lookacross the open garden. “Shall we move into the shade?”

“You mean into cover.” Escalla looked a the man in suddenintuition. “Who’s trying to bump you off?”

“Perish the thought. A mere habitual precaution, nothingmore.”

She took him into a rose bower-a bower carefully searched byTarquil’s bodyguard before he entered. Standing in privacy with Escalla, the manvisibly relaxed. He leaned against a towering rose trunk and looked Escalla appreciatively up and down.

“A flower in the wilderness.”

“Yeah, that’s me. Bloom bloom bloom.” Escalla lifted up theslowglass necklace that hung about her throat. “This is yours?”

“Of course. Slowglass is rare. Slowglass is beautiful-almostas rare and beautiful as you.”

“Oh, your clan must want me somethin’ awful. Where the helldid you find the slowglass? This stuff is rarer