20th October, 1987
“Lords and Ladies, Mage Alys Kinnear and familiars.”
The announcement of my presence I’d been expecting. Not giving Athena and Artemis their proper names…well, that irked me a bit. I probably shouldn't have - the way he'd phrased it was socially acceptable - but I gave the doorman a sideways glance nasty enough to make him back up a step as Athena, Artemis and I entered the room.
Athena nudged me and gave me a reproving look, that melted into another look which clearly said I could not afford to be off-balance tonight. I sighed a little and nodded, making a mental note to quietly apologize to the doorman when I had a moment. In the meantime, I did a quick breathing exercise to center myself, and took in the room.
I had never been to anything even vaguely resembling this sort of...of soirée, for lack of a better term. I’d heard the term “grand ballroom” used in conversations and in literature, but I had honestly never seen one before. Not like this.
It was vast. There’s no other way to put it. The arched and intricately painted ceiling had to be at least twenty-five feet above our heads, probably more. The room was so long that there were four huge chandeliers hanging at regular intervals down its length, and wide enough that there was room for a large dance floor with space on both sides of it to walk past without getting in the way people dancing.
At one end of the room, there was a raised dais on which a smallish chamber orchestra had set up to perform. By smallish, I mean there were only twelve performers, including a pianist on a grand piano. At the other end of the room there was a long buffet, and tables set up for people who wanted to eat while schmoozing.
The whole affair was lit with candles. Candles on the chandeliers, on ornamental wall fixtures, and floating in mid-air above our heads. They were obviously magical...not only could I feel the magic radiating off of them, the showed no sign of melting.
I had to learn that spell. I loved to read by candlelight.
I was, however, completely unable to comprehend why someone would have decorated the room with what appeared to be magical soap bubbles. They drifted around the room, always just out of reach, and each one contained images of dancers swirling about inside them.
Weird.
The walls were draped with red and gold velvet, the wallpaper inlaid with what I thought was real gold filigree. The floor and walls appeared to be made of a very dark and highly polished wood that I thought was mahogany. Finally, the room’s outside wall was a long row of enormous glass French doors.
Everybody was dressed to the nines. Tuxedos with tails and even more archaic formal wear was common amongst the men. The women in the room displayed quite a bit more variety, but everything was elegant and - in my opinion - completely overblown. I saw hoop skirts and bustles which had gone out of style more than a century ago, corseted gowns, trailing skirts and cloaks, and enough expensive jewelry to feed a small nation for a year, if not longer.
In my simple and understated green silk dress, with my cane, silver and emerald teardrop earrings, and silver bracelets, I felt completely out of place. I wasn’t intimidated by any of it...I just felt like I didn’t belong in a place so full of rich and elegant things.
I also thought the whole thing was kind of gross, in an overblown and ludicrously opulent way, but I wasn't about to express that to anyone here.
Athena obviously noticed, because she leaned over and whispered in my ear, “You’re by far the prettiest thing in this room. You stand out, sister.”
Of course I did, I thought ruefully. I was half-Sidhe, after all. My natural Glamour had a way of drawing attention to me, and I had little control over it as yet.
“Not because of that,” Athena whispered, smiling. “Because you look self-possessed and sure of your own abilities and place in the world. You’re going to be a Wizard soon, and they can all tell you’re more than they are.”
I looked over at her, confused. “More?”
She nodded and continued whispering, still smiling. “More powerful, more talented, and more important to the world. Not that they'd admit it, but any one of these people could blink out of existence and someone would replace them...but you, like all Wizards, are unique.”
I returned her smile. “Thank you for reminding me.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” she teased.
<
I laughed softly. “Thank you. Now, let’s circulate. We’re here for a reason, even if we don’t know precisely what it is yet.”
We had been asked to attend this upper-crust gathering by the master of ceremonies, Lord Jeffrey Barsdale III. Old blood and old money, but I’d heard enough about his charitable works - and nothing about any dalliances or anything similar - that I had more respect for him than most of Albion’s current crop of nobles.
Unfortunately, our invitation hadn’t gone into precisely why we were being asked to attend. It said only that we’d be meeting with Lord Barsdale afterwards, at which time he would explain everything, and that we should enjoy his hospitality in the meantime.
Rationally, I knew it was a good opportunity for me to do a little bit of networking, which Hollis had been gently needling me to start doing in earnest. Once I finished my Wizard's license exams, I’d probably be striking out on my own, and it wouldn’t hurt for me to have some contacts among Albion’s elite.
So, escorted by Athena and Artemis, I made may way around the room. We kept half an eye out for Lord Barsdale, whose pictures suggested he would be a rather distinctive presence in the room, but there were so many people that it was almost impossible to pick out an individual until they were on top of you.
Fortunately, it seemed we weren’t completely unfamiliar faces. We’d been in the newspapers several times over the past couple of years, after all. But we were not of their status...we were curiosities. They showed us respect...but it was a distant, professional, detached respect. The kind some people display when viewing a piece of art that they know was respected in the community, but which didn't quite meet their standards.
“I remember reading about that asylum you cleared of ghosts, child,” one elegantly gowned older woman said, literally looking down the length of her nose at me. “Handily done, child. Though I’m certain the Archmage could have done it better, his time is understandably precious...”
“You’re Mage Kinnear, yes?" an elderly man in an elaborate old naval uniform asked. "Heard about that business up in Yorkshire two months ago. Sounded right nasty. I imagine a squad of Army Mages could have dealt with it better, but from the sounds of it you handled it well enough.”
And so on. Athena and Artemis were addressed with varying amounts of disdain, or sometimes not at all, though on the whole people seemed accepting of Artemis’s presence, and I saw one or two other familiars in the room. It was Athena - not her existence, but her presence - who made some people uncomfortable in these lofty, upper circles of society. Pets were acceptable, but not servants.
To their credit, there were a number of retired soldiers in the room who greeted Athena warmly, and we met several artists and musicians who were equally accepting of her.
As we made our way around the room, I began to feel like someone was shadowing me. Out of the corners of my eyes, I kept catching glimpses of a tall man with long white hair that was feathered and draped down his shoulders in front, and tied into a tail with a black bow at the nape of his neck in back. A surprisingly archaic style, even for this group’s Victorian affectations. I saw enough of his face to know he was a man, but couldn’t determine his age or even get a good look at him…whenever I turned to look, he was gone.
And yet, he seemed to be reflected in the ridiculous magical bubbles that floated above our heads even after he’d vanished.
<
She blinked. <
<
Artemis looked up at me with a dour expression. <
I could’ve smacked my own face for not realizing that before I asked it.
<
Then, I almost collided with him as we reached the edge of the dance floor. One moment a way was opening for us to pass through the crowd, the next he was inches away from me and I had to pull up short to keep from bumping into him.
He was tall, over six feet and positively towered over me. His long hair was not just white but actually looked like spun silver, and his face was long and angular, thin but not gaunt, with a strong chin and sharp cheekbones. The most striking feature were his eyes…one was an impossibly brilliant sapphire, while the other was glittering silver like his hair. His costume for the evening was as Victorian as many others in the room, but it was not of modern make. I wasn’t sure how I could tell, but something about his clothes felt…old. Well-preserved and elegant, but definitely vintage.
Then he tipped his head slightly and his hair fell away from his ears…ears which came to delicate points, like my own. But somehow I knew at once that this was no Changeling…no half-Sidhe, like me.
My breath caught in my throat, and I felt a surge of alarm from Athena. This was one of the High Sidhe, one of the lords of the spirit world that existed alongside our own.
From beside my legs, Artemis shifted forward and sniffed, and I felt a moment of profound confusion from her. Well, we’d never met a Sidhe Lord before. No doubt he didn’t smell human.
He smiled warmly. “Alys, Athena, and Artemis Kinnear. I had so hoped to meet you here this evening.” His eyes glittered, but with obvious good humor, not with malice. And there was, to my surprise and discomfort, both familiarity and fondness in his voice.
“You…” My voice cracked a little, and I cleared my throat to swallow my nerves. “You have us at a disadvantage, sir.”
He extended his hand to me. “I am Madoc.”
I froze, halfway to automatically shaking his hand.
He smiled a bit more, showing a glint of even, white teeth. “Ah, you’ve heard of me.” He reached the rest of the way, took my hand, lifted it, and kissed my knuckles. I’d always wanted to have someone do that, but not this someone.
Not the Lord of the Unseelie Court. Known in legends and lore to be the darkest and most dangerous of the Sidhe and the fairy folk they ruled over.
I swallowed again and tried to smother my fear. “Y-yes…” I winced inwardly. This was definitely not a being to show weakness in front of. “Yes, I have.”
His smile grew gentle. “You have nothing to fear from me, Mage Kinnear. I am here as a guest of Lord Barsdale. Under the old laws of hospitality, no guest may bring harm to another, nor threaten harm, nor beguile or enchant.” He laughed softly. “Of course, as a Changeling, you’re mostly immune to Sidhe Glamour anyway, so you have nothing to fear on that account.”
I tried to pull my hand away and he released it immediately, turning instead to take Athena’s - done with such grace that it looked like she’d given it to him, rather than him taking it - and kissed her knuckles as well. “I am absolutely delighted to meet you all.” He bent and held out a hand to Artemis.
Inwardly, I cringed. <
She leaned forward a little and sniffed his hand, then lifted her head a little to accept a few gentle strokes of her head and ears. <
Athena and I exchanged an uneasy look. That was just a little bit creepy.
“I’ve been following your career with some interest,” Madoc said as he straightened again, “since you appeared on the scene. I take it you’ve recovered from the injuries your half-sister Brenna inflicted on you?”
The little alarm bells that had been going off in the back of my mind became a full-blown klaxon. “How did you know about that?” I clamped my lips together and instantly regretted the question. Madoc could easily take it as an open invitation to make a deal with me, and I absolutely did not want that.
He laughed, evidently delighted by the question. “Which part? That your injuries were sustained in a fight with Brenna that you weren’t really prepared for, or that Brenna is your sister?” He smiled at me, a surprisingly warm expression. “You have my word of honor that I will not attempt to trick you into making any deals with me, Mage Kinnear. At least, not here, tonight.” He winked.
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I breathed a little sigh of relief, remembering what he’d said about being under the old laws of hospitality. The Sidhe took hospitality very seriously, to the point that violating it could be a lethal offense.
“To answer your very understandable question…” He smiled and laid a finger alongside his nose, then winked again. “I know things.”
<
Out loud, I said, “I guess it’s your job to know things.”
"Part of my job," he nodded seriously. “Most assuredly, my dear.” He smiled again and held out his hand to me. “Would you do me the honor of having a dance with me?”
Dance with the Lord of the Unseelie Court? My brain finally shorted out under the strain of remaining alarmed. How could I possibly say no without giving him offense?
“My leg…” I began, aware that it was a feeble excuse.
“I’ll be very careful of it,” Madoc said gently. “Perhaps just a waltz, hm?” Then he smiled again. “I’m sure you’re nervous about having a dance with such an evil creature, however handsome, so I’ll offer you a small deal, a harmless one. In exchange for one dance, I will tell you one truth that few alive today actually know.”
In spite of myself, I was enticed. He was right, it seemed like a completely harmless deal, and as a Wizard-to-be I was fascinated by the idea of learning something that wasn’t well known. Artemis seemed easy enough with his presence, having called him ‘safe’ and now sat at ease by my side, unconcerned by him. And Athena had observed that he seemed friendly enough.
But he knew so much about us. Why was he interested in us? Maybe that was what he was going to tell me.
He held out his hand to me. “Please? It would make me very happy.”
I took a deep breath, silently checked with my sisters who both promised to keep a close eye on me, and handed Athena my cane. Then I took his hand lightly. “Very well. A dance for a truth.”
He beamed. “Lovely. Thank you very much, Mage Kinnear. May I call you Alys?”
“What will I owe you in exchange for it?” I asked dryly.
He chuckled and lead me out onto the dance floor. “No more deals tonight. I ask merely the pleasure of being allowed to use your given name.”
The way he worded it made me profoundly uneasy, wondering what - exactly - he planned to use my name for. Or maybe it was just having him hold my hand. Or the fact that I was about to dance with him. What was I doing? This was mad.
“Let me rephrase that,” Madoc said, probably seeing my unease written all over my body language. “That was disingenuous of me. I merely want to call you Alys, instead of Mage Kinnear.”
“All right,” I said slowly. “If I can call you Madoc instead of ‘my lord’ or something equally formal.”
He smiled and looked pleased. “Oh, well done. Still wary, and a name for a name. You are going to go very far.” He laid his left hand on my hip and turned me to face him, his right hand holding my left. “A waltz, yes?”
I nodded
As if he’d commanded it - and maybe he had, for all I knew - the orchestra began to play a slow waltz.
Madoc lead, of course, and did so very well. He was an elegant dancer, and his lead helped me - I’m a passable dancer at best - look more elegant than I really was. Across the floor we turned, the other dancers parting around us and moving back away from us. We glided in graceful circles, moving so lightly that for a moment I was certain my feet weren’t actually touching the floor.
<
I felt my cheeks warm.
Madoc, no doubt misunderstanding the source of my sudden blush, smiled. “Ignore the common folk, my dear, and just enjoy the dance. You dance wonderfully.”
“Thank you,” I said almost mechanically. I had somehow failed to notice that everyone else on the dance floor had faded to the sides to watch us waltz. In a low voice, I added, “Are you using your Glamour on them?” Then winced...why did I keep asking him questions when I knew they stood a good chance of costing me more than they were worth?
He laughed softly, twirling me and steadying me again. “Questions for questions? Otherwise, we can’t possibly have a conversation, and I would like to get to know you better.”
Ominous. Creepy. Kind of sweet. “Agreed.”
“No, I’m not...at least, no more than I am breathing,” Madoc said, evidently amused. “It’s not a conscious thing, it simply is. The Sidhe, and to a lesser extent our Changeling children, will always be enchanting to mortals, whether we try to be or not. In this case, the simple fact of the matter is that most of these people will never see two Sidhe together in one place...you and I are as close as they’ll ever come.”
He maneuvered me through another turn around the floor. “Where did you learn to dance so wonderfully?”
I blinked up at him in surprise. That was not the kind of question I’d expected. “Um...my master, Jonathan Tremane, taught me while I was studying with him.”
“I’m glad to see he didn’t skimp on any part of your education,” Madoc said with an approving nod. “I do so hate to see grace go untrained, and you are very graceful.”
“Thank you,” I said. “It took me a while to get back into shape after...”
“After Brenna’s assault,” Madoc said, picking up where I’d trailed off, his voice rich with sympathy.
I nodded. It was still hard to talk about, especially with a stranger. Doubly so with a stranger I was uncomfortable knowing so much about me.
“How are you getting along with her now?” Madoc asked.
I looked up and met his eyes, trying to decide if I should answer. It wasn’t exactly private information, really, and I wasn’t sure what harm it could do. Besides, it gave me an opportunity to learn something interesting. “Our relationship is strained and awkward...mostly, we write letters to one another, but I had lunch with her at Harrods recently. Do you see much of your brother?”
He laughed. “Touché. I haven’t seen Oberon in almost…oh, it's been more than seven hundred years.” He bent close and whispered, “Between us, if I never see him again it would be too soon. He’s a pompous windbag, self-righteous and full of himself.” He straightened and winked. “You aren’t the only one with strained family relations, my dear.”
The orchestra began to wind down and we slowed. As they finished, our audience - everybody else attending, probably - began to applaud. Madoc bowed to me, and I curtsied in return. He took my hand and kissed my knuckles, then smiled. “Can I talk you into another dance?” His smile turned a little bit sad. “No, of course not. I’ve unnerved you enough for one meeting, I’m sure. But I still owe you a truth.”
He leaned in close and whispered in my ear, “I created the Unseelie Court not merely as an act of rebellion against my brother, but also to protect humanity from the excesses and worst predations of our kin and offspring. All of the stories and legends about my Court...are wrong.”
Without another word, Madoc straightened, bowed to me once more, and vanished into the crowd of guests thronging back onto the dance floor. I don’t just mean he walked away...I mean he stepped into the nearest cluster of approaching guests and vanished, leaving me stunned and shaken on the floor.
A moment later, Athena took my hand and guided me from the dance floor. <
<
Athena stopped walking and stared at me. <
I nodded. <
She smiled, feeling my equilibrium returning. <
“Mmhm,” I said aloud, then added, <
After several people complimented me on how beautiful a dance it had been - and I begged off a few invitations to dance, using my knee as an excuse - we beat a hasty retreat to a spot near one of the sets of huge French doors. There, we were able to catch our breath and have a light snack from the buffet.
“How long do we have to stay, again?” Athena asked dryly, sipping a glass of sparkling wine.
Artemis shook her head incredulously. <
I chuckled softly. <
Athena snorted a little laugh. “I expect that a lot of the country’s business is done in rooms like this. Everything gets decided before it ever gets to Parliament and the High King.”
I sighed. “I can’t imagine why Lord Barsdale would want us here for the whole thing rather than just meeting with us afterwards or tomorrow.”
“Nor can some of the rest of us,” a haughty voice said from off to my right.
I turned to see a middle-aged man in a fine Victorian-style tuxedo, staring at us with undisguised disgust. His hair was silver at the temples, and his unpleasantly sharp features and glittering eyes seemed to radiate a sort of malice. “Why our Lord Barsdale would want half-breed trash such as yourself...not to mention your familiars...at one of his events is beyond my comprehension,” he continued.
Beside me, Athena tensed. While I had my temper mostly under control again these days, there were times...
Now was not going to be one of them. Jonathan had taught me years ago how to respond in such a situation.
“You have me at a disadvantage, sir,” I said with cool politeness, for the second time that evening. I know Hollis had been harping on me to network, but if this was going to be the result…and then Madoc’s words came back to me. We were all, technically, here under the old rules of hospitality.
I smiled thinly and started again. “You seem to know who I am, but I have never seen you before and have done you no wrong that I am aware of. I cannot imagine why you would choose to insult me so. I respectfully request that you apologize.”
Athena sucked in a little breath, and so did a few other people within earshot. The words I’d just uttered were part of the formal challenge to a duel. Usually they were sufficient to get most people to realize they were being a complete prat and back down. If they didn’t, I was within my legal rights to call them out. Which actually overrode, as I understood it, the old laws of hospitality. Though if I became the aggressor, it would be frowned on.
Archaic dueling laws. I’d spent a week pouring over them with Jonathan when I was sixteen. They gave me a headache, but they were important to know in our line of work.
The man’s eyes widened incredulously. “You little...how dare you!” He lifted his right hand, and I felt the Anima gathering around him. So did several other people near us, because they turned in surprise to get a better look at what was going on.
He obviously had some talent with Hermetic magic. I could almost feel whatever spell he was about to cast forming. But I am a professional Mage, in training to become a Wizard, and I was now well within my rights to defend myself.
I could also tell that I was more skilled than he was. It was taking him forever to pull the spell together. It felt like a blast of force. Impulsively, I decided to try a trick that Jonathan frequently used on me when we practiced, but which due to his experience and speed I had never quite managed to make work. Rather than simply shielding myself from this man's spell, I would counter it and twist it back around on him.
“Alys...” Athena started to say in alarm.
A moment later the stranger crashed through the French doors he was standing in front of in a shower of shattered glass and splintered wood. I honestly hadn't meant his rebounding spell to hit him that hard, but might've put a bit of extra spin on it without consciously meaning to, and I don't think he'd realized how much Anima he'd put into it in the first place.
I didn’t feel particularly bad about it either. While it had been enough to knock him off his feet, and his position had resulted in that sending him through the doors, his kinetic spell hadn’t been nearly enough to do him - or me, had it actually hit me - any lasting harm.
I stepped through carefully behind him, gripping my cane in my left hand. Jonathan had repeatedly told me 'Always take the fight outside at your first opportunity.'
“That was unwise, sir,” I said politely. “A largely untrained practitioner of the Art should never attempt to assault a Mage with magic. Again, I respectfully request that you apologize.” I held out my hand to him palm up, both a peace gesture and a polite offer to help him rise.
Second request. I couldn’t imagine why this madman was actively trying to provoke a fight here and now, especially when he had so firmly placed himself in the wrong. Having not actually cast a spell myself - countering an existing spell didn't count, legally - this stranger was solely responsible for any reparations for the damage done to the doors.
He swatted my hand aside and struggled to his feet. “Miserable little half-blood tramp,” he snarled. “I challenge you to a duel, here and now, without magic. Martial rules.”
Martial rules, in this case, meant that we would fight with whatever we had on us at the time. He obviously assumed that my cane meant that I was in some way hampered by an old injury, and that the cane itself was just a focus. If it had just been a focus, I would have had to discard it before fighting him.
Fortunately, Jonathan was more clever at giving gifts than that. I reached over with my right hand, found the release, and with a soft click and an almost silent rasp of metal on wood, drew out the concealed smallsword within the cane. I flipped the ironwood shaft around and held it like a baton in my left hand. “Very well.”
His eyes bulged and he looked around frantically.
Behind me, a pleasant male baritone filled with rich laughter rang out, “I’d back down if I were you, Lord Chesterton. She has you at a disadvantage in every way, from preparedness all the way through skill and into intellect. In fact,” the voice drawled, “I expect you to withdraw your challenge. It is ferociously uncouth to assault such a charming young woman at any time, let alone here and now when you are both here at my invitation.”
A man stepped up beside me, and I glanced at him curiously. He didn’t look much older than Ben, which would put him in his late thirties, and he was every bit as striking as his pictures made him look. The strong jawline, the dark eyes and aquiline nose, the dark hair swept back from his forehead into a long pony tail. He wasn’t dressed as ostentatiously as most of his guests, but still looked every inch the nobleman.
“Lord Barsdale,” I said politely. “I apologize for both the disruption of your party and the damage to your home.”
He waved it off airily. “No fault of yours, Mage Kinnear. You handled the situation with admirable restraint, as far as I’m concerned.” He glared down at the stranger - Chesterton, he’d said. “You, however, I expect to pay in full for the damage done here tonight, first thing tomorrow. I also suggest you depart with all due haste. Your invitation is formally rescinded.”
Ouch. If Chesterton had still had a leg to stand on, that would have yanked it right out from under him.
“But...she carries a concealed weapon at a party!” Chesterton protested.
“Indeed she does,” Lord Barsdale replied cheerfully. “Which she very properly notified the doorman of upon her arrival and made the appropriate promises to keep it sheathed unless provoked.” He leaned forward slightly. “Get your coat,” he said, all the warmth gone from his voice, “And get out.”
I immediately sheathed and locked my sword-cane, setting its tip on the ground and leaning on it.
Chesterton all but snarled...then stalked past us back into the ballroom.
Athena and Artemis arrived in a crush, having held back to give me room to fight if need be. Their attempts to make sure I was all right came in a rush so forceful that I only caught bits and pieces of what they were saying. Standing in the remains of the doorway with several other people, I saw Madoc watching us. He smiled slightly and nodded to me, tipping an imaginary hat in a gesture that clearly meant ‘Well done.’ Then he was gone again.
Lord Barsdale smiled. “I see you have good defenders.” His voice silenced them instantly, and he smiled more. “Oh, be at ease. I was only a few feet away when that cad spoke out. I heard and saw the whole thing. Mage Kinnear, you have my respect for the way you handled the situation.”
Athena moved to stand beside me. <
<
Lord Barsdale was examining us curiously. “I say, your familiar - Athena, correct? - does resemble you tremendously. I’ve seen the pictures in the paper, of course, but they don’t do either of you justice. And I see now why Scotland Yard recommended you when I asked to have someone look into my little problem. Mage Kinnear, I apologize for Lord Chesterton having ruined your evening. The party should be ending shortly...I do hope you and your familiars will still stay to speak with me afterwards.”
I exchanged a quick look with Athena, who shrugged, as if to say ‘it’s your call.’
I smiled up at Lord Barsdale. “We will be honored to speak with you, my Lord.”
“Please, call me Jeffrey. All of you,” he added, including Artemis and Athena with a gesture. “All of that ‘Lord’ nonsense is for the older generation. Stuffy fools.” He bowed politely to me, then again to Athena and Artemis, surprising all three of us. “I’ll speak with you shortly then. Please try to enjoy the rest of the party.”
Waving a hand to flag down one of the servants who had started tidying up the mess Chesteron had made of the French doors, Jeffrey disappeared back into the ballroom.
“Well,” I said, “I suppose the night can’t get any worse.”
<
“She’s right,” Athena agreed, then sighed. “Well, I guess we’d better go back in.”