'All right; why pass through the Nightside at all?'
'Because this appalling locality is the nearest thing we have to neutral territory. I can see I'm going to have to fill you in on a few of the background details. How very tedious. In the beginning, long before human history began and we were all myths and legends… Queen Mab ruled over the Fae, and she was mighty and magnificent and terrible to behold in her glory. Under her rule we spread and prospered; but it didn't last. How could someone of such a magnitude as Mab have foreseen the rise of the vermin called Man? She underestimated you, and lost the war, and was deposed, by Oberon and Titania.
'They dragged her off her Throne and threw her down into Hell; and there she stayed for many centuries, while Oberon and Titania ruled the Fae in her place, in the Sundered Lands. But Mab got out; and after so long in the Houses of Pain, her vengeance was terrible to behold. She cast Oberon and Titania down, to take her place in Hell, and re-established herself as the one true rightful ruler of the Fae. Or as many of us as were left after she'd finished purging the unfaithful.
'But then Oberon and Titania fought their way out of Hell and took up residence in Shadows Fall, in the land under the hill, and have since amassed a mighty power of rebellious elves, determined to take back the Sundered Lands by force of arms. Aren't families embarrassing when you have to explain them to strangers?
'Anyway, civil wars are always costly, in all too many ways, and both sides have been persuaded to step back from the brink. For the moment. I have been acting as emissary between the two rival Courts, and after much… discussion, we have a Peace Treaty. It won't last-such things never do-but hopefully it will buy us time for more reasonable voices to make themselves heard. Or perhaps some public-spirited person will assassinate one or other of the Courts. I need you, John Taylor, to find me a safe way across the Nightside, from this distressing location to the furthest boundary, and the Osterman Gate. Where I might finally take my leave of this… human world, in favour of some more civilised reality.
'You must understand, Mr. Taylor, there are many here who would like nothing better than to see me dead, and the Treaty destroyed, for a whole variety of reasons. These unprincipled villains include certain elves on both sides who want war for personal and political reasons, who can't or won't forgive past slights… and then there are all those people who hate elves and would delight in the spectacle of our slaughtering each other. This very definitely includes the Nightside's current Overseer, Walker; who has set his people to harrying and threatening my progress. Apparently he has decided it is in Humanity's best interests that the elves remain divided and, preferably, destroy each other. A very… practical man, your Walker.'
The elf stopped talking and looked at me. I considered the matter, taking my time. My first impulse was to get up and leave. Well, actually, get up and sprint for the exit. Getting involved with elves is never a good idea, and getting caught between two warring factions struck me as only marginally less dangerous than playing Russian roulette with a fully loaded gun. There's just no way you can win. And on top of all that…
Never trust an elf.
I'd heard rumours about Queen Mab's return, and everything Screech had said had a dreadful plausibility to it, but he had to be lying about something, even if only by omission. Because that's what elves do.
'Why should I help you?' I said bluntly. 'You and your kind have always been the enemies of Humanity. Maybe Walker's right. Maybe elf killing elf is in our best interests.'
'What makes you think our war would take place in the Sundered Lands?' said Screech, smiling pleasantly. 'No; we'd fight our battles in your world, where the extensive collateral damage wouldn't bother us in the least.'
'Good point,' I conceded. 'All right; suppose I do take this on. How do you propose to pay me?'
'Not with any of the usual means of payment,' said Screech. 'You wouldn't trust any of them, and quite rightly.
'I propose to pay you… with information. I know something you don't know. Something that you definitely need to know. Because it involves a real and present danger to the whole of the Nightside and because it involves you personally. Something very old and very powerful and quite appallingly terrible has come to the Nightside. You'll know the name when I say it; though it isn't what you think it is. Get me safely across the Nightside to the Osterman Gate, and I'll give you its name. Believe me, John Taylor; you need to find this thing before anyone else does.'
I looked at him thoughtfully, saying nothing. Never trust an elf…
'If you wanted to pass unnoticed through the Nightside,' I said, finally, 'why come as an elf and draw attention to yourself? Why not hide your true nature behind a glamour and pass yourself off as just another tourist?'
'Appear as a human?' said Lord Screech, looking down his nose at me. 'I wouldn't lower myself. I have standards. Do we have a deal, Mr. Taylor?'
'You're almost certainly not who you say you are,' I said. 'You're probably not even what you claim to be. And you're proposing to pay for my services with a secret that may or may not turn out to be of any practical use. Have I left out anything important?'
'Only that any number of truly unpleasant individuals will quite definitely try to kill the both of us all the way to the Osterman Gate,' the elf said cheerfully. 'But then, that situation's normal for you, isn't it?'
'What the hell,' I said. 'I've got nothing else interesting on at the moment. But if your precious secret turns out to be a crock of shit, I will quite definitely rip both your pointy ears off and use them as can openers.'
'Oh, it's a wonderful secret,' said the elf, smiling. 'Vitally important and damnably significant. You're really going to hate it.'
I got up from the table, and Screech rose to his feet in one long, graceful movement. He was still smiling, which is always a disturbing thing in an elf.
One of the Hydes from the pit came storming towards us, sweeping tables and chairs and their occupants out of his way with great blows from his muscular, blood-soaked arms. He'd taken a hell of a beating from the other Hyde, but already the old drug was closing his wounds for him. His fierce gaze was fixed on the elf. Carnaby Jones was right behind him, urging him on. And a dozen or so inhabitants of the Revert cage brought up the rear, carrying improvised weapons. Carnaby sneered at me.
'Did you think I'd be grateful?' he said flatly.
I glanced quickly about me. Mother Connell was already out from behind her table, her massive hands closing into impressive fists, but by the time she'd forced her way through the packed crowds, it would probably all be over, one way or the other. The Hyde loomed up before us, a great wedge of bone and muscle with blood on his breath and gleeful murder in his eyes. Screech took a graceful step forward, and punched the Hyde in the throat. The sheer impact of the blow sent the Hyde staggering backwards, and the crunching sound of shattering trachea was horribly loud in the sudden quiet. Screech watched interestedly as the Hyde sank to his knees, clawing desperately at his destroyed throat, dying by inches. Carnaby let out a wordless cry of rage and waved the Reverted men forward. I stepped up and stared the head Revert right in the eyes, stopping him in his tracks. Huge and brutal, only half-way human, he couldn't meet my gaze. He backed away, swinging his low-browed head from side to side, then he turned and lumbered back to the safety of the cage. The others followed him. And Carnaby Jones was left standing all alone.
'Shall I kill him for you?' said Screech.
'No,' I said. 'I'm not feeling merciful. Let's get out of this shit hole. And this information of yours had better be worth it.'
'Get me to where I need to be, and I promise I'll tell you something to your disadvantage,' said Lord Screech.
Some nights you just shouldn't get out of bed.
TWO
Hot Pursuit in a Cold Town Outside the Dragon's Mouth, the air was fresh and sharp and full of familiar scents. All kinds of cooking, from all kinds of cultures; blood and sweat and musk blasting out of the dance halls; the lingering reminders of a thousand different kinds of sin. I took a deep breath to clear my head. Getting Lord Screech all the way across the Nightside to the infamous Osterman Gate would have been tricky and dangerous enough at the best of times, but with Walker and all his various people out and about, keeping under the radar
