Mallory staggered on his way, his concentration coming and going. In that place, everything seemed like even more of a dream, the light from the lanterns too golden and hazy, the music growing louder then softer as though someone were tuning in a radio station.
Mallory's attention was briefly caught by the produce on sale at the stalls. On many there were items he might have expected — vegetables, clothes (though strange in appearance), gold and silver jewellery of unusual design, furs, perfumes in wondrously designed bottles of multicoloured glass — but others displayed goods that left him thinking it really was a dream. There was a rock in a gilded cage that spoke with the voice of a small boy, a purple jewel encasing a tiny man and a woman of dismal expression who hammered at the walls of their prison, a hat that supposedly made its wearer invisible, a mirror showing continually changing views of alien landscapes, and many more, some too astonishing to comprehend.
'Here! Over here!'
Mallory looked around at the call. A skeletal man in a black robe that appeared to be made of tatters was beckoning to him. Mallory drifted over.
'A Fragile Creature,' the trader said in a rasping voice, 'abroad in the Far Lands in these times. I thought I was mistaken.'
'I need to get some medical help.' Mallory supported himself on the edge of the trader's stall. The world was growing dark on the fringes.
'First examine my wares,' the trader said. 'They come from distant Kalashstan on the edge of the Terminal Waste. Very rare, very wondrous.'
'I don't have any money,' Mallory said, distracted. He needed to move on, find someone to aid him quickly.
'There are many ways to pay,' the trader said slyly. He held up a pair of scissors with long golden blades. 'Here. The Extinction Shears that cut the weft of existence. Very rare, but within your grasp for a very small consideration. Very small, barely noticeable. Or here.' This time he raised a face mask of a screaming man constructed from silver and studded with emeralds. 'A Gon-Drunning. It will allow you to see into the dreams of your friends and enemies.'
'No.' Mallory looked around, bewildered. The darkness was even closer now, like the shadow of an enemy sweeping up on him from behind. 'I have to go. I have to…'
The market began to swim. He was vaguely aware of the trader leaning forwards to peer at him closely with predatory eyes, and then others nearby stopping to stare, smiling malignly as if a pretence were no longer necessary. They began to move forwards just as the darkness rushed in and he collapsed to the ground.
Chapter Six
'Although we cannot choose what happens to us, we can choose how we respond.'
Mallory woke on a pile of furs on a long, low bed in the corner of a darkened room. The windows were flung open, revealing the silhouettes of trees beneath a starry sky. The perfumes of a summery wood floated in on the breeze.
Cautiously, he raised himself on his elbows. It took him a second or two to comprehend his state, but more important than his location was the realisation that he felt astonishingly well: refreshed, free from pain, his thoughts once again sharp and focused. He swung his legs off the bed and sat on the edge before examining the injuries on his chest. His clumsy stitches were all gone and the deep wounds themselves had almost healed. It didn't make sense to him at all. How long had he been unconscious?
In confusion, he went to the window. He was in a wing of a low building made of stone with a timber and thatched roof that stretched out for a hundred feet on either side; the architecture was unfamiliar. It was in a large clearing in a wood. Close-clipped grass ran down to the trees, and here and there torches blazed. There was no sign of life.
Instinctively, Mallory went for his sword — it was no longer there.
'No weapons are allowed in the Court of Peaceful Days.'
Mallory whirled at the sound of the voice, though it was melodic and gende. A woman stood in the open doorway, smiling enigmatically. When Mallory looked into her face, it took a while before he understood what he was seeing. At first he thought it was his mother, who had died ten years ago, then the Virgin Mary, then the dinner lady who was always kind to him during his lonely, troubled days at school. Finally, her features settled into those of a woman in her late forties, long black hair framing a face that was still beautiful, with lines of happiness around her mouth and eyes. She was wearing a dark blue dress that appeared to be made of velvet yet reflected the light of the torches filtering through the window. A mysterious quality to her made him feel instantly at ease.
'Where is this place?'
'The Court of Peaceful Days.'
'I heard you the first time. But where is it? I walked for a while.' His day's journey came back to him in flashes, impossible to place in any context. 'On the way to Bath?'
'It is further away than you could have walked in a lifetime.'
Her smile melted him instantly; he could no longer resist. 'My injuries-?'
'We healed you. They were minor.'
'They didn't feel minor.'
'To us they were.' She stretched out a supple arm; her hand was pale and delicate. 'Come. Let us walk outside.'
He took it, despite himself. Though he had almost recovered, he still felt as if he was existing in a dream. 'Who are you?'
'My name is Rhiannon. The Court of Peaceful Days is my home.'
'I'm Mallory.'
'I know.' She led him out into a long stone corridor. Guards were posted at regular intervals, dressed in a strange golden armour designed with an avian style. She nodded to each of them as she passed. Outside in the warm night she let go of his hand and they walked side by side across the grass until they reached a fountain of fire. The flames gushed out of a spout in the centre and rolled down into a surrounding pool, swirling like liquid against all the laws of physics. Even close to it, Mallory could feel no heat.
'Where is this place?' he whispered, suddenly overcome by awe.
'In the Far Lands. A heartbeat away from your own fields, yet as distant as the farthest star.' She stood before him, still smiling benignly. 'You were brought to me by some of the market people. They feared for your safety.'
'When I was blacking out, I thought they were going to rob me. Or worse.'
'Indeed, some of the traders come from far afield, and they have a predatory nature. But those who live within the remit of the Court of Peaceful Days would never harm anyone. That is our law, immutable, a law of all Existence, though recognised by few.'
There was something about her that reminded him of Sophie, an odd combination of gentleness and power, perhaps. 'As laws go, that's one of the best.'
'It is a law of Existence.' Rhiannon looked from the flames to the stars scattered overhead. 'So simple when compared with the great philosophies, yet it is the only law that matters. We are all brothers and sisters of spirit, joined on levels Fragile Creatures can never comprehend.'
Mallory looked back at the building. From his new perspective he could see that it was quite enormous. It stretched far back into the trees, and in parts, on the fringe of his vision, it appeared that the trees were growing in it and through it, were part of the very structure. Though the construction was simple, there was a breath-taking
