Robots vs. Fairies(21)
Sela chuckled. “It’s not that easy. Mellifera was given her powers by the queen, and only the queen can revoke them. We have no reason to expect our mother to awaken before the solstice at the earliest. In the meantime, within her sphere, Mellifera’s power is absolute.”
“Your system of government has some flaws.”
Sela nodded. “I always thought so.”
“Are you a princess too?”
“I would be, had I not given all that up. You can’t lose your responsibilities without also losing your privileges, but I care about my freedom more than anything the court can offer me.”
The carriage lurched to a stop. “We’re here.” The door swung open, and they emerged onto a rocky beach under a gray sky amid eddies of fog. Emily turned to look back at the coach, but it was gone. Nothing behind them but waves crashing against great rugged outcroppings of stone.
“Where’s here?” Emily shivered. She was wearing black trousers and a white blouse and flats. She wasn’t dressed for a cold beach.
“Some coast or another. It’s nearly twilight. Good. That’s when my powers are strongest.”
Emily looked at her phone, which agreed that it wasn’t yet lunchtime, suggesting they were in some time zone other than the one she’d started in. She had no phone service here, naturally, and no way to tell where they were.
Sela pointed toward a nearby sea cliff, and the fog parted as if moved aside by her gesture—perhaps it had been. Emily could just see the upper floor of a building perched up there, a foreboding thing of gray stone and few windows. “Mellifera went into that building, and has not come out. Our scryers can’t see what’s happening inside—there are powerful enchantments in place, and lots of iron, which all confound us.”
“Is the enchanter in there? Is that where he’s taking the books?”
“Perhaps.” Sela glanced at her. “Isn’t your lover one of those living books that walk around like people?”
“They are people. Yes, Llyfyr and I are together.”
“Are you worried she was taken by the enchanter?”
Emily shook her head. “She was in my house this morning, not at the library.”
“Yes, but I got into your house easily enough, and one of Mellifera’s servants could have too. The enchanter’s interest seems to be in the most potent magical books, naturally, and that would include the living books—”
Emily thought of the volume of poems sprawled open on the floor, and a cold spike of fear pierced her. She’d assumed Llyfyr was okay because she hadn’t been at the library when it was besieged, and with everything that was happening, she hadn’t had time to fret over other possibilities until now. “Let me call her.” Emily put her hand to the charm at her throat and murmured the incantation to call Llyfyr.
Nothing happened. “That . . . The living books have personal agency; unlike the nonsentient books, they can refuse a summons, but Llyfyr always comes when I call!”
“Perhaps she can’t. There could be spells of binding in there, cages of iron. . . .” Sela shrugged. “If she’s inside, we’ll save her. I don’t suppose you can fight?”
“I don’t have to do much violence in my line of work.”
“I’ll focus on the fighting, then. You look for Mellifera’s book. I’m not sure what to expect. If Mellifera is there, her guards are too, but they would bristle at taking orders directly from a mortal, so Rudolph may have other resources. He certainly knows about the weaknesses of the Folk, and is likely to have measures in place to confound us. Come.” They walked across the gritty sand in silences contemplative and anxious until they reached the base of the cliff. Sela gestured again, and fog swirled away, this time revealing what looked like a mine cart made of black wood and silver, resting against the bottom of the cliff. “Here we are. It’s a sort of elevator. I don’t mind climbing a cliff freehand with a dagger in my teeth, but I thought you’d prefer something less taxing.” One side of the cart swung open, and they stepped in. The quarters were close, and Emily was pressed against Sela, who smelled, not unpleasantly, of leather and brine.
The cart jerked and began to ascend, though there were no signs of cables. There could be some kind of hydraulic piston underneath . . . but Emily knew it was driven by fairy magic.
They reached the top of the cliff, with just a narrow ledge of stone between them and the wall of the house. The other side of the cart swung open, and Sela stepped out, walking casually along that narrow strip of solid ground, knocking her knuckles against the wall in a few places. She hissed. “Iron in the walls, along with binding spells, so I can’t open a door. Not surprising, but frustrating.”
“Ah. Those countermeasures you mentioned.” Not all the stories were true, but the bits about iron being anathema to fairies were.
“Yes. But there’s got to be a proper door somewhere.” Sela walked along the ledge toward the corner of the house, apparently unconcerned by the hundred-foot drop on her right. Emily eased along the wall much more slowly and carefully. She didn’t have a particular fear of heights, but she could see herself developing one, given the circumstances. Once she made her way around the corner of the house, away from the cliff’s edge, she felt better. The land around them was flat and barren—it looked almost scoured—and the house was no less forbidding from a different angle. They walked around to the front and found a thick wooden door, banded with dark iron.