It
was with great reluctance that John asked Celia and Owen to tell their part of
the story. This was partially because it described problems in his own house,
and he knew that that would embarrass Hardacre, but predominantly because it
dealt with things that brought back very odd memories.
As usual, Celia did most of the talking. She
described how Owen had patched up a hole in the world in John’s kitchen and how
she had fought off the strange squid-like creatures that had attempted to break
through the hole. She was at her most matter-of-fact, as if it had really been
quite simple, and although she was full of praise and wonder for Owen’s
abilities, she’d made it quite clear that any witch with half-a-brain could do
what she had done. There were a few wry
smiles around the table – they all knew that Celia hated to be praised and that
it was best to just murmur their assent. The ones who weren’t smiling were too
busy worrying that they would have failed miserably if they’d been there
instead of her.
As Celia came to the end of the story, Owen,
clearly acting on a pre-arranged signal, pulled his box out from under the
table.
‘What I haven’t told you’ she said, gesturing
towards the box, ‘was that Owen captured one’
Owen looked quizzically at her, but continued
with the plan. He tore the brown paper from the top of the box and revealed the
blue creature within its transparent container.
It was dead and so it no longer pulsed with
the strange blue light that it had had when alive, but it still looked vaguely
blue, with a hue that no-one could quite place. The creature itself, however,
no-one could identify at all. It was roughly four feet long, vaguely squid
shaped, but with a single tentacle, ending in a cup-shaped sucker. There were
fin-like wings along the length of both sides of the body. The two wings were
both now tattered. It had no eyes or any
other obvious sensory organs.
‘This is what we’ve been calling a blue flyer’ said Celia, ‘we’ve brought
one here for Kathleen to look at’
Kathleen stood up uncertainly. She peered out
at Celia.
‘For me?’ she said, ‘It’s not the most eagerly
anticipated present I’ve ever received’
‘Will you have a quick look at it, Katy?’
asked Owen
Kathleen walked round the table to the box.
She knelt and held her hands over the entombed creature.
‘nwydd’
she said. A pulse of white light swept across the flyer. Her face was etched with intense
concentration. Then she looked very puzzled.
‘It’s not there’ she said, ‘All I can sense
is an empty vessel, just a shape without substance’
She looked up at Owen.
‘What will happen if you dissolve the box?’
He shrugged.
‘I’m sure it’s dead – but I don’t know if it
will last for very long’
Kathleen paused in front of the box.
‘Do you want me to try?’ Owen asked
John, who had been watching all of this intently,
held up a hand to Owen.
‘Be very careful. My main concern is to find
out what sort of stuff it is made of and how we might counter it’
They all nodded. There was some discreet
shifting of chairs away from the box.
Kathleen got up and removed a small metal
funnel from her cloak pocket. She tapped it and blew through it. It expanded
over a period of about three seconds so that the bell of the funnel was about
as wide as a tuba’s.
She nodded that she was ready.
Owen held his hand over the box and said ‘dadmer’
The box collapsed, and the creature was left
lying on the forest floor. For a moment it was still and cold, but then it
began to collapse, like a piece of paper folding itself endlessly in half.
Every time that it folded a small wisp of blue cloud puffed into the air. There
was a smell like rotting apples, so strong that everyone close to the flyer
began to cough and splutter. They all retreated except Kathleen who fished a
handkerchief out of her pocket and held it over her face. She grasped the funnel with her other hand
and manoeuvred it so that as much of the blue smoke as possible was sucked up
into the bell.
Underneath the flyer the clouds could not
discharge freely into the air and where they hit the leafy floor they began to
spark. After a few seconds of this, one of the sparks caught the leaves. Very
rapidly a large patch of leaf litter was alight and everyone was up from the
table, scattering chairs and stepping back from the expanding fire. By now it
was lapping at the legs of the council table.
A clear, authoritative voice, shouted ‘huetos!’
Rain poured down from the sky and the fire
was doused instantly. All that was left was a final wet blue cloud, in the
shape of a cigar, which lingered for a moment and then disappeared.
Everyone knew who had saved the day.
Elizabeth was the only one of them who used Archaic Elven for her trigger
words. She stood with her hands on her
hips, looking disappointed with all of them.
‘Did you get anything?’ asked Owen, his cloak
and tunic dripping wet.
Kathleen nodded, brushing her sodden hair
away from her forehead and from over her eyes. She took a small hessian bag and
slipped the shrinking funnel into it. She tied the bag up with green
twine.
‘I have a sample. It should be enough for my
analyses, assuming that there’s anything that can actually be analysed’
By now Laurence and his team were running on
with towels, mops and cloths. There was a short delay for cleaning up, during
which there was a rustle of conversation. Several of the wettest council
members retired to their rooms to change, and everyone thanked Elizabeth
politely – she wasn’t the sort of person who responded well to effusive praise.
All she did was nod gravely.
‘Can
we return to question of Helios?’ asked Elizabeth, once they were all seated
again, apparently assuming that she now had the right to first dibs on the
agenda.
John nodded, happy to move on from the Outer
Void creatures.
‘What about it?’
‘I’m interested to know exactly what the
relationship is between the Helians and the Archaic Elves in our world. Does it
not seem to you that our elves may have seriously divided loyalties?’
‘Well, I suppose so’ said John, ‘but I’m not
sure that that necessarily matters to us, does it?’
‘I just think we need to keep a better eye on
them’ she said, darkly.
Myfanwy rustled as she turned in her chair.
‘They have every right to live their life however
they choose, Elizabeth’
Elizabeth smiled sourly.
‘Well, that’s true, but they don’t
necessarily have the right to hide the fact that they are sitting on the entrance
to another world; a world about which we know almost nothing’
‘Perhaps they have good reasons for doing
it?’ suggested Myfanwy.
‘Perhaps someone should ask them’ said
Gwyneth
‘Yes, we should send a diplomatic mission…’
began Elizabeth, nodding her head, ‘to probe and enquire; and we should start
by finding out about what has happened to the Folds and who was responsible for
the meddling’
‘Not a
mission, as such’ said John, ‘that’ll be too obvious and will look too
interfering’
‘I agree’ said Gwyneth, ‘it has to be a
single person working as subtly as possible’
She turned immediately to shush her sister,
who seemed to be about to interject. In fact, Bronwyn didn’t say a thing but
she looked worried.
‘I’m thinking that it can’t be one of us’
said Celia, ‘I mean it can’t be one of the council – it would look like an
obviously very high profile operation’
‘I agree’ said John, ‘it will require a
diplomat of unusual patience, wisdom and tact’
Everyone round the table nodded
enthusiastically, except Bronwyn, who was flustered and seemed slightly
upset.
‘And he should go as soon as possible’ said
Gwyneth, ‘and start in Oikonde’
There was no need for a vote; for once, the
council was apparently unanimous. They were all very pleased with the decision.
They all heard a stifled
groan somewhere in the middle distance and then there was the unmistakeable
sound of a stack of plates smashing, as they fell through Hardacre’s fingers
and down on to the marble floor.
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