Chapter 74: Intermezzo
In which Strephon awakens in the last place he expected.
Strephon felt a sensation on his cheek like the gentle caress of a breeze. He carefully opened his eyelids, just a bit. He lay in the shade of a willow tree, and pale morning light filtering through the curtain of willow branches danced before his eyes. Silhouetted against the dim light, he saw a beautiful woman bending over him, her face framed by golden hair which cascaded down her shoulders and shimmered in the twilight, and her kind, loving eyes kindled with a radiance from within. “Are you awake?” the woman said.
A smile dawned over Strephon's face. “Mother!” he cried.
His eyes drifted shut and he permitted himself a moment or two to enjoy the sense of peace around him before he spoke again.
“Well, for a moment there I thought I was dead, but as I've always been told that Faeries don't go to heaven, and I cannot for the life of me imagine you in the other place, I must conclude that I am in the Faerie Realm.”
“My ever-logical Strephon,” the woman said. “Just like your Father.”
“How long have I been here?”
“Not long.”
Not terribly helpful. Strephon tried again. “Let me rephrase that. How much time has passed in the Mortal Realm?”
“About three days.” His Mother must have seen the dismay in his face because she added, “You were badly injured in your battle with Togwogmagog. You needed time to rest and recover.”
Strephon tried to sit up. His upper body, unsurprisingly, felt fine. His legs, however, protested.
“I'm afraid there's only so much we can do for your poor legs. We mended the bones that were broken and healed the bruises. I'm sure they are as healthy as is normal for a mortal of your age.”
“But no better,” Strephon sighed. “I suppose that's the best I can ask for. Thank you, Mother.” He began to settle down in a comfortable position again, when he suddenly sat up bolt upright. “Three days? Cassandra will be worried. Cassandra! What happened to her? Is she all right?”
His Mother laughed. “She is just fine.
“Cassandra was trapped in that blasted spell of Togwogmagog's. What happened to him?”
“Ah yes, the spell. It seems that the battle with your enemy put an enormous strain on the fabric of the magical nexus. It ripped an opening to the void, or so Devon told me. I think he knows more about that than he cares to admit. In any case, during the fight, your enemy fell through the chasm and into the Void. With all the stresses already on the enchnantment, that was enough to break the spell, freeing your friend and flinging her off into the Astral Plane. You almost fell into the chasm yourself, but fortuitously I arrived in time to snatch you away from it.”
“Fortuitously?”
“Well, I might have been keeping an eye on you. Mothers do that, you know. As for your friend, Devon found her drifting out in the astral plane and took her home. He wanted to rescue you, but there are some things a mother prefers to do herself. Besides, I told him that him saving your lady friend would irritate you more.”
“It does, curse him.”
“When are you going to bring your lady friend around to see me? I'd like to meet her.”
“I was hoping to wait until some time when neither of us were in dire peril.”
“That is your own fault. You were the one who chose to dwell in the Perilous Realm.”
“You are aware, are you not, Mother, that 'The Perilous Realm' is the name some mortals give to Fairy-land?”
“Of course they do. Mortals are always projecting their own foibles onto others. It's one of their more endearing qualities. Bye-the-bye, I wanted to thank you for the flowers.”
“The flowers?”
“For my birthday. It was sweet of you.”
“Oh, yes.” Strephon had forgotten about the altar arrangement he had donated to his church.
“You needn't have worried about your vicar praying for me. It wouldn't be the first time I was blessed by a clergyman. You are evidence of that.”
Strephon blushed. “Really, mother. Double entendres are vulgar in the best of situations, but a fellow finds it extremely discomforting to hear them from the lips of his own mother.”
He was quiet for a moment, then said, “Did the Queen know that the person behind Melchior's scheme was really the Prince of the Nephilim?”
Now it was his mother's turn to be quiet. “Her Ethereal Highness does not often share her secrets,” she said at length, “not even to her beloved sisters. But speaking hypothetically, if the Queen were to learn that the Prince of the Nephilim had set in motion a plot to disrupt the Mortal Realm, she would be prohibited by the Great Pact from taking direct action against him. But if someone else, say a beloved nephew who, by virtue of being half-mortal, was exempt from the strictures of the Pact, happened to come across such a plot while investigating something totally different and then took it upon himself to foil the plot...”
“I see. I should have guessed it was something like that.”
Strephon let his mind drift into a reverie. It had been a long time since he had visited the Faerie Realm and he had forgotten how pleasant and comfortable it was. Even the ache of his superannuated limbs felt more like a familiar old friend than an irritation. It would be nice to linger in Twilight Realms a bit.
He shook his head. “It has been pleasant speaking with you again, Mother,” he said, “and I would like to visit longer; but Cassandra will be waiting for me. I have business to attend to. I must return home.”
His mother patted his hand with a melancholy smile. “I know. Just don't forget that this is your home too.”
NEXT: Darkness Is Past