The Catswold Portal

How dark his lashes were, curled against his cheeks. His lips were soft, faintly pouting. He slept on a silk pillow embroidered with an ancient dragon, souvenir from the upperworld where he had traded a small jewel for it. Efil said that, eons past, Netherworld dragons had found their way up through the tunnels to the upperworld. Seen by men, tales had been created and images made of them in clay and paint and silk. He had amazed her, speaking so offhandedly of his trading journeys there. Such journeys were to Efil as ordinary as a ride to Xendenton.

He spoke just as casually of Siddonie’s upperworld ventures. In the small hours as they lay talking, as he flipped open a crystal decanter causing its ruby wine to fill two goblets, he had looked deeply at her, with an expression she couldn’t read. “You know nothing about Siddonie, my love. Well, but why should you?”

She had stroked his shoulder, tracing her finger down his cheek. “Tell me.”

His face went sullen, filled with old angers. “She is obsessed with power. She lusts for power, and not only Netherworld power. She has built power in the upperworld, though perhaps it is small pickings by upperworld standards.”

“I don’t understand,” she had said. “I thought there were no powers there.”

“Not magic powers.” He had lifted the crystal goblet, and winked at her. “Money. In the upperworld, money creates power. And upperworlders will pay ridiculously high sums for Netherworld trinkets—diamonds, emeralds, rubies. It was easy for Siddonie to buy power.” He drained his goblet, and refilled it.

“She has established for herself a complicated investment structure, and she has recruited an army as well.”

She had stared at him, perplexed.

“Oh, yes, my dear. Siddonie now has an army of upperworld rabble, derelicts, upperworld refuse. She has collected men no one wants or will miss. She has given them food and shelter, and trained them to our weapons.”

“But why? To make war there, in the upperworld?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Of course not. She means to bring them here to fight beside our own soldiers against the rebels.” Efil smiled. “Siddonie is more afraid of the rebels than one would guess.”

“But upperworlders…Why would upperworlders fight for her?”

“When she befriended those men, few of them believed in anything. She has built allegiance among them. Now they believe in her, now she is their goddess. She has changed their need for liquor, through spells, to a need to serve her. She gives them security and material comforts. She furnishes Netherworld women to tease them and drive them nearly mad with lust.” Efil smiled. “She has turned the upperworld rabble into her eager slaves.”

He had seemed filled with talk. As if, Melissa thought, once he had laid claim on her, in bed, he must tell her all his secrets. Perhaps he needed someone to share his secrets.

“Have you not wondered, my dear, why her seneschals are so often gone from the palace? Three are concerned with Netherworld intrigues. Vrech is responsible for messages and instructions to her upperworld associate.

“Havermeyer comes down occasionally, but Vrech is the errand boy; he is back and forth often. Havermeyer is titular head of the corporation. Siddonie and her brother Ithilel hold title. The company operates barely on the edge of the law, but of course no one can touch Siddonie or Ithilel. They would simply disappear.”

“But what use is power in that world, if there is no magic there? What does she gain?”

“Siddonie likes controlling others. She lusts for power, and more power.”

“And does she plan to rule the upperworld as well as our world?”

He laughed, and traced his finger down her cheek. “You are an innocent one. The upperworld is immense. Even Siddonie has more sense than to challenge the giant corporations. Though she has amassed an interesting fortune. She does it for recreation. And she does it as well, of course, as a cover of respectability for the recruiting.”

He drew her to him, stroking her hair. “Siddonie has established herself as a philanthropist. She has bought slum buildings and turned them into hostels for the poor. It is easy to recruit men without jobs or families from such a place. They welcome her offer of country air, warm clothes and beds, hot food in exchange for a few hours work each week. Once they are housed at the ranch, of course, the enchanting, skillful women from Xendenton and Mathe make sure they will not leave.”

He cupped Melissa’s face in his hands. “Do you see, my love, how vital our role will be? Do you see what we might prevent by wresting the throne from her? If she brings those hordes down, she will sweep across the Netherworld enslaving every land.”

He looked deeply at her. “We can prevent that. Together we can free the Netherworld of Siddonie’s tyranny.”