Thursday, May 14, 2009
To Summon a Queen
The doorway was bricked up – it had been for over two hundred years, but the lintel was still the ancient piece of flinty chalk it had been when it was on top of Blue Fairy Hill for the last four thousand years. You couldn’t stop the Fae from coming just by moving the door.
Jasfoup sketched a complicated set of sigils on the stone and stood back as the brickwork faded from mortal sight. The dark cellar, the oldest part of Laverstone Manor, became flooded with the sunlight from a forest glade.
An empty forest glade.
Jasfoup growled very softly to himself and looked at his Bloodberry. 23:51 he could hear fighting in the Great Hall and it was all he could do not to shout through the portal, but it didn’t do any good to be impatient for the Queen of Fae. He looked down at his PDA again as the seconds ticked by with maddening rapidity. 23:52 A shadow fell over him as Sophia appeared.
“Azazel is killing Lucy,” he said. “You’ve got to do something.”
“Where are your manners, Mr. Jasfoup?” said Sophia. “Have I not taught you better than that? Where is the ‘Hail and Well met? Where is the ‘Oh, Queen, though art the fairest?”
Jasfoup glanced down. “I don’t have time,” he said. “Lucy will die in – oh.” His Bloodberry had stopped.
“Demos may speed up time,” said the Queen of Faery, “but I can extend my world into yours a little way, and the properties of time in Faery are as diverse as its observers.” She stepped out of the portal into the darkness of the cellar, swiftly followed by her four Royal Guards. Jasfoup noticed only in passing that Harold’s son was among them.
“This isn’t a chivalrous tournament where you can wave a scarf and stop the fight.,” he said. “This is life and death angel on demon action. I can’t help her, because helping her would disrupt the balance. I can neither fight against a demon lord nor give aid to an angel.”
“What do you think will happen to her?” Sophia asked, surveying the damp cellar with the air of a potential purchaser who wanted a substantial discount. “Will she prevail?”
Jasfoup shook his head. “No. Without outside aid she will die.”
“Then she dies,” said Sophia. “I cannot interfere with Lord Azazel.”