“Of course,” ventured Zacharias, “I am delighted to hear that the Court has relaxed its policy so far as to permit a new familiar to cross to our realm. May I ask—”
“You may ask nothing!” snapped His Majesty, in one of the startling shifts of mood that characterised the fairy race. His brow darkened. A small grey rain cloud, grumbling with thunder, appeared above his head. “I call it a damned piece of impertinence, do not you?” This was to the lobster courtier, who nodded solemnly, his antennae twitching with disapproval. “Was not it plain that we had no wish to speak of familiars? If you persist with your tedious questions, we shall be compelled to dismiss you. There are quite enough bores in Fairyland as it is!”
“I beg your pardon, sir,” said Zacharias, alarmed. “I cannot say how much I regret causing any offence. It is the last thing I should wish to do.”
His Majesty sat back in his throne, still rather huffed, but as Zacharias conscientiously piled repentance upon remorse, the storm cloud above His Majesty’s head grew paler and paler. Finally it dwindled to a white wisp, and a courtier blew it away. The King gestured to his courtiers to pass him a snuffbox, and inclined his head to show Zacharias might stop.
“We will pass over it,” he said graciously. “What shall we talk of instead? I presume you came with a request for some boon or other?”
It was hardly an ideal time to draw the block on Britain’s magic to the Fairy King’s attention, but Zacharias could see no alternative. He might not have the opportunity again.
“I merely wished to apprise Your Majesty of an irregularity which has come to my attention,” he said.
Zacharias had no doubt the Fairy Court was behind the block. The obstruction could not have been erected or maintained without the contrivance of the Queen and King, and the cork was as good as a royal seal. But he could hardly accuse Fairy outright of conspiringagainst Britain’s interests. The only way he could raise the subject, and avoid drawing down upon himself a royal tantrum, was to feign earnest innocence.
“It appears there is a stoppage preventing the ordinary flow of magic through the border between our realms,” he continued. “I sought this audience in order to inform Your Majesty, knowing what a deleterious effect the obstruction to the natural circulation of magic is likely to have on your country, as much as on mine.”
The King had been in the act of taking a pinch of snuff when Zacharias began, and his speech was seen off by a thunderous sneeze from His Majesty. This was followed by a prolonged silence while the King buried his face in an enormous handkerchief.
A full five minutes passed before the King emerged from behind his handkerchief—a fraught five minutes for Zacharias, for he had no notion how the King would respond, though it was clear enough what the King was about. First one, and then another fish-faced courtier was drawn behind the screen of his handkerchief to confer in whispers. His Majesty’s countenance wore rather a sullen cast when it finally reappeared.
“We do not see that you have any reason to complain,” said the King without precursor. “It cannot make any difference to you that the flow of your magic has been diverted. England’s magic has been declining for so long that you ought to have grown accustomed to it by now.”
“Diverted?” said Zacharias. “I had understood that the magic remained in Fairyland.”
“So it did at first, but the accumulation of magic made things so very awkward that we were compelled to pump it out elsewhere,” said the King. “You need not look so alarmed. Our surplus did not go to France—we do not like them any better than you—for greed and sanguinariness there is nothing to choose between the two nations. No, we sent the excess to a few more docile mortal kingdoms, and theywere very grateful. It was really rather gratifying to have given such pleasure.”
Zacharias was conscious of how vital it was that he should tread carefully; he had no wish to provoke the King again, but the idea of Britain’s magic being funnelled to other nations was one he could not endure in silence.
“Your Majesty, I must protest,” he said. “Surely this is inconsistent with Fairyland’s policy never to favour any mortal sovereign over another—an ancient policy, and a judicious one.”
“And one we should like to hew to, if we could,” said the King. “But the realities of government do not always permit the unobstructed application of principle. Besides, it would be easy enough for you to resolve the difficulty. The power to remove the block lies in your own sovereign’s hands. All your nation needs to do is put an end to its shameful mistreatment of the vampiresses of Janda Baik.”
Zacharias gaped. At his expression, His Majesty said: “Did those wretched lamiae not tell you? We declare, they are the most blockheaded creatures that ever died! How is a threat to take away your magic meant to influence your conduct if you do not even know of it?”
Zacharias cast his mind back over everything he could recall of Mak Genggang, wishing now that he had troubled himself to attend more closely to her whispered dialogues with Prunella. It was true Mak Genggang had remarked upon the block on magic when she had arrived at Fobdown Purlieu, but she had not seemed to know the reason for it. Or had she indeed known, and sought by circuitous language to inform Zacharias? Perhaps he had merely failed to understand her meaning, cloaked as it was in Oriental inscrutability.
But that will not do,thought Zacharias. Mak Genggang had not been inscrutable about anything whatsoever. She had expressed her sentiments towards Sultan Ahmad with a clarity and directness adapted to the meanest understanding.
“No,” said Zacharias finally. “We did not know it was the lamiaeof Janda Baik who desired our magic to be stopped.” He hesitated. It was difficult to know what he might say without trying the King’s patience too far. But surely it must be permitted to raise the question. “May I ask, sir, why you acceded to their request?”
“It is all the fault of that blasted sultan, of whom your sovereign is so fond,” said the King. “He was making it so damnably hot for the vampiresses that they threatened to return to Fairyland unless we did as they asked. Just when we thought we were rid of them forever! They are distant cousins of Her Majesty—Her Majesty abounds in pestilential relations—so they cannot be denied, but you can have no notion of what an appallingly uncomfortable neighbour an Oriental lamia makes. Tracks in blood everywhere, smells continually of vinegar, has not the decency to wear her feet the right way around, or to put away her innards, but leaves them dangling out in the open for everyone to see.”
His Majesty paused to brood over the iniquity of his wife’s relations.
“It would be an end to all peace if they returned,” he said, with a sigh. “We should give them our first-born child if that would persuade them to stay away. Indeed, we made the offer, but they would not look at poor Cuthbert. No, you will have to make do without fresh magic, Mr. Wythe, unless you can persuade your sovereign to refrain from interfering with the lamiae. He must take his chances if he intends to continue this uncertain business of Empire-building. You never know what may come of it, or whose third cousin you may offend.”
This was clearly intended for a dismissal. The King said to a courtier:
“You may send in the next fellow. Good day to you, Mr. Wythe.”
Zacharias bowed. He did not say what every thaumaturge in Britain knew—that the Sorcerer Royal’s word now had little weight with his sovereign. He lacked the influence even to dissuade his Governmentfrom requiring the Society to pay its rents, much less to discourage it from adopting any course it desired regarding other nations.
The royals of Fairy were wont to adopt diverse guises, and it could not be supposed that such a trifle as skin colour would be of any account to them. But perhaps they were aware of mortals’ peculiarities in that regard, and had some notion of how easily the staff might be wrested from Zacharias’s grasp. Why should the Fairy King comply with the requests of a temporary Sorcerer Royal? His Majesty might believe he would be replaced soon enough. Thinking of the forces arrayed against him, Zacharias could not bring himself to disagree.
18
ANDHAVEYOUseen this Miss Prunella Gentleman, of whom so much is said?” said Lady Throgmorton, as she sat supping a cup of black bohea with her friend Alethea Gray. Their intimacy was of but two months’ duration, but that it was a true friendship was evidenced by the enthusiasm with which each spoke of the other:
