Chapter 44 The Unspeakable in Pursuit of the Uneatable
In Which we learn more about The Pact and about The Wild Hunt
About this time, the door to Strephon's hall closet opened up and Devon came dancing out of it, wearing tropical print shorts and doing a samba to the music of an inaudible band. Strephon wondered for a moment why Cassandra didn't seem to notice his arrival, but then realized that his cousin had probably cast a glamour to hide his presence from her. Just the sort of thing Devon would find amusing. Strephon was annoyed by the interruption, but since he did not particularly want to deal with Devon at the moment he refrained from comment.
Devon danced his way to the suitcases Cassandra had brought with her and almost picked up Cassandra's, but Strephon shook his head and pointed to the other bag. Devon nodded his head and took Cecily's duffle and resumed his dance.
“What are you pointing at?” Cassandra said; but by that time Devon had gone. “Hey, where did Cecily's bag go?”
“Devon popped in to collect it. From his demeanor, I would hazard that he and Miss Draper are enjoying themselves. Now, where were we?”
Strephon resumed his narrative, picking up at his luncheon with Melchior at the Chez R'lyeth, and Melchior's request for him to support his application for the Council.
“You've mentioned this Council before,” Cassandra said. “I take it this is a 'Ministry of Magic'-type thing? Some sort of shadow government for magical folks?”
“Something like that. The chief purpose of the Hidden Council is to maintain the peace between the different factions of the city's supernatural community and to arbitrate disputes.”
“I see. And would they also be in charge of keeping magic secret from everybody else?”
“That is not one of its official functions, but yes, the Council does have an interest in maintaining the Masquerade, as some like to call it.”
Cassandra pushed the matter further. “And if, say, some reporter were starting to investigate supernatural occurrences and was maybe getting too close to the truth, that they might arrange for her to get a cushy job at a big newspaper where they keep her wrapped in cotton and busy writing harmless puff pieces to keep her out of trouble?”
“My word,” Strephon said. “You may be right.” It explained Knox's sudden job offer, and sounded quite possible. “Had I thought of that myself, I might have spared myself the cost of a dozen eggs.”
Cassandra told him about her own snooping into his background. “That's what Saul and I were doing at my flat when you came by that evening. I'd asked him to do some research for me and we were comparing notes. I didn't get your message that you were planning on coming over … well, I did, but it got kind of garbled in transmission.”
“Speak no more of it. It was an embarrassing evening for us both.” Strephon hesitated about telling her about his conversation in Saul Taylor's car, but settled on giving her a brief summary, omitting the cut and thrust of the verbal fencing. She seemed to have decided for herself that Taylor was a cad, and it would be boorish to belabor the point.
He went on to tell her about his call on Lydia Palmer, the vicar's wife, and the information she gave him about Morrigan and about Pastor Shepherd. Next, he described his visit to Shepherd's mission. He concluded with his encounter with Inanna in Tobias's cab. That was the most difficult part. He had initially resolved to tell Cassandra everything about his investigation, but some of the points on which Inanna had touched were just too tender.
During this last part, Cassandra put down her pen and her demeanor became grave. “At least you learned what the big fairy plot is. It's all about breaking this Pact thing. That fulfills your commission from the Fairy Queen, anyway.”
“Not really. I still don't know who's behind it all. Melchior is just a pawn.”
“If we can believe Inanna.”
“On this point, I'm inclined to. I need to know more.”
“First tell me more about this Pact that Inanna was talking about.”
“It's a sort of ancient treaty between the Queen of the Faerie and the Prince of the Nephilim, codifying the relations between the two worlds. There have been numerous similar treaties between mortal and fae over the ages, but this one is the most significant. As Inanna said, it is THE Pact.”
Cassandra tapped her pen against her notepad. “Nephilim... I've heard that word before. Aren't they supposed to be space aliens or something?”
Strephon winced. “Why is it that people today are willing to accept the existence of creatures from other planets, but not of beings who have shared the Green Earth with them since the days when humans fought naked and painted themselves blue?” he grumbled. “The Nephilim are mortal beings akin to humans, found in Jewish legend. You no doubt are familiar with the passage from the story of Noah: “In those days there were Giants in the earth”.
“Yes, that does sound familiar.”
“Well, the word in the original Hebrew that the King James Bible translates as 'giants' was 'Nephilim'. It means 'Fallen Ones', or possibly 'People of Nephil', a name for the constellation Orion.”
“So they were space aliens.”
Strephon declined to dignify her remark with a comment. "Scriptures state that they were descendants of the Sons of Heaven who intermarried with the Daughters of Men, and describes them as 'Mighty men of great renown.' Mortal, yet possessing qualities superior to ordinary humans.”
“Were they really giants then, like Togwogmagog?”
“That was how the Authorized Version translated it. I don't know where King James got his information about this. In any case, this Prince of the Nephilim, representing the Mortal Races, entered into a treaty with the Queen of the Fae.”
“The same Queen who commissioned you?”
“My aunt. Yes. The Fae live a long time. Immortality, you know. The Pact established certain rules and boundaries between the Mortal World and the Faerie Realm. It also had the effect of consolidating the Queen's authority over all faerie-kind.”
“So breaking the Pact would be a big deal for both worlds.”
“Indeed.”
“What happened to the Nephilim?”
“They're mostly extinct now. They all perished long ago, due to Climate Change. Although there is some speculation that their blood survives in those humans with an affinity for magic.”
“Climate Change...? Wait, you aren't talking about Noah's Flood, are you? You're saying the Flood really happened?”
Strephon leaned back thoughtfully. “That is an interesting question. I asked my Mother about that once. She said, 'If you like.' The Fae have a peculiar view of reality. They regard all poetry as true and all truths as poetry. It makes it hard to pin the Fae down with a straight answer sometimes.”
“So I've noticed.”
Strephon ignored the touch of sarcasm in her remark.
“Is the Wild Hunt part of the Pact?” she continued. “I'm not seeing how it fits into all this. The Wild Hunt is some kind of fairy revelry, isn't it? Like a supernatural hunting party. I think the prank pulled on Falstaff in The Merry Wives of Windsor was based on it, right?”
“A highly bowdlerized version, but yes. How can I describe it? Have you ever witnessed a fox hunt?”
Cassandra blushed. “I attended a couple of fox hunt protests when I was in college. I had friends in an animal rights group.”
“In some ways the Wild Hunt was a social event for the Fae: the gathering of friends and companions, the thrill of riding over the fields and hills, the music of the baying hounds., and afterwards, general feasting and merriment. Yes, it was jolly fun. For the hunters.”
“But not for the fox.”
“No. Not for the fox.”
“But what's the point of it? It's like... well... what Oscar Wilde called it.”
“The unspeakable in pursuit of the uneatable? Yes, I suppose it is. But the Wild Hunt originally served a purpose. It's chief quarry was untethered spirits, ghosts wandering the earth, and creatures of magic who had strayed across into the Mortal Realm; as well as nightmares and renegade Fae. It pursued the spawn of Chaos and brought it under the Rule of the Hunt. One could even argue that it kept the forces of Chaos in check and made the night world safer for all. But it had a darker side as well.
"Under the terms of the Pact between the Fae and the Mortal World, the Fae Folk were prohibited from harming mortals, save under specific circumstances. Now, in mortal stories, faeries may seem capricious and dangerous – and indeed they are – but there are certain rules by which they must abide. The Wild Hunt is different. During the Wild Hunt, any being it encounters, mortal or otherwise, becomes fair game. When sound the Horns of Elfland, all who hear their note are compelled to join the hunt, or become hunted themselves.
"Not that the Faerie huntsmen ever kill their quarry outright. Certainly not! A gentleman never shoots the fox! But the hounds, and whatever supernatural creatures they compel to join the pack, have no such restrictions. Any mortal unfortunate enough to encounter the Wild Hunt and unable to find sanctuary in time, becomes caught up in the frenzy. If he is lucky, they might invite him to join them as a huntsman, whether he wishes to or not. In a more whimsical mood, they might transform him into one of the fell hounds of the pack. They might even restore him to his former shape after the hunt ends, if they remember to do so, or if they do not decide to simply take him back to the Unseen Realm as a pet."
Cassandra thought on this for a bit. "But if the Wild Hunt is a part of this Pact, how would holding a new hunt break it?"
"I'm not sure about that myself. The Queen banned the Hunt several centuries ago -- way before my time at any rate. I'm afraid St. Augustine is to blame. As I'm sure you're aware, the Church has traditionally taken a dim view of magic, regarding it as an unlawful presumption of Divine prerogative. When the Christian missionaries came to this Green And Pleasant Land, they tried to suppress it, and largely succeeded. Magic went underground, hiding in odd nooks and corners. With fewer folk practicing magic, there was less wild magic floating about, spawning goblins and such, and fewer gaps in the veil between the Mortal World and the Unseen Realm. There were fewer bogies and banshees to hunt and the restless ghosts the Hunt once pursued were largely put to rest by the prayers of the priests. And the land itself became less wild, as mortals increased in number and laid the rules of roads and agriculture upon the hills and heaths. And mind you, this was even before the establishment of iron rails and power grids restricted things further. The long and the short of it was that both the game and the hunting grounds dwindled to the point where there seemed little point in continuing the Wild Hunt."
"Unless it was to pursue mortals," Cassandra said.
Strephon nodded. "In any case, the Queen called an end to the Wild Hunt. I believe she briefly reinstated it during the Plague of 1665 in response to the public emergency. There is some speculation that the Great Fire of London might have been an unintended consequence of Faerie revelry getting out of hand. The Hunt hasn't been held since. The Queen has prohibited anyone from calling a new one."
"How do the fairies feel about that?"
"It definitely caused some hard feelings. Many felt that the Queen had surrendered too easily to the mortals, and that the Fae should have fought back against the encroachment of Men. But being tied up with their oaths, they can’t very well defy the Queen in this matter. It would be treason."
"Perhaps there's another reason for the ban. If someone other than the Queen were to call the Hunt, would she be compelled to follow it too?"
Strephon raised his eyebrows. "That, young lady, is an extremely cynical remark. Are you certain you do not have faerie blood?"
"That brings us to the big question. Are you going to do it? Are you going to call the Hunt?"
Yes, that was the question. "I may not be bound to the Queen by oath," Strephon said, "but I do possess a certain affection for Her Ethereal Majesty. She is, after all, my favorite aunt. Moreover, I am disinclined to further the ambitions of Lord Melchior, who is a blackguard and a cad of the first water."
"But...?"
Damn, the woman was perceptive. "There are no buts," he insisted. "It would require something formidable to impel me to take such action." He realized that he was not exactly denying that he might do it, and he hoped that Cassandra had not noticed this. He still did not want to bring up Inanna's remarks concerning her. It would be unfair to her. Cassandra might feel she must sacrifice her own interests for the benefits of Faerie politics.
Cassandra seemed satisfied with his non-denial. "You may not trust Inanna,” she said, “but you seem to be assuming that you can rely on her to fulfil her own oaths."
"That is simply part of the Faerie's nature."
"But if the Pact is broken, won't that also free her to break her oaths too?"
Strephon did not answer right away. How could he have missed that? "I don't think it has occurred to Inanna herself, but you are correct. It would."
NEXT: A Vampire Walks Into a bar...
