Read Online The Feaster From The Stars (Blackwood and Harrington) by Alan K Baker - Free Book Online Page B

which were taken on a beautifully tended lawn in front of a large manor house.
    There was another photograph on Sophia’s desk. It was of a handsome, distinguished-looking man in an immaculate evening suit. His expression was rather stern at first glance, but there was a sparkle in his eyes which hinted at great humour. He reminded Blackwood of a young Thomas Carlyle.
    ‘My father,’ said Sophia, who had noted Blackwood’s interest in the photograph.
    ‘He was a fine-looking gentleman.’
    ‘Indeed,’ Sophia said, very quietly.
    She had told Blackwood, not long after their first meeting, of the strange and terrible fate suffered by Lord Percival Harrington during a hunting trip in the wilds of Canada. Sophia, then a girl of eighteen, had been with her father when he had been snatched from their camp by the mysterious and lethal entity known as the Wendigo and carried off into the sky, never to be seen again. His loss had nearly destroyed both her and her mother, and it had left Sophia with a burning desire to investigate and understand the supernatural in all its forms and manifestations.
    Sophia offered Blackwood a chair and took her own seat at her desk. ‘Well, Thomas,’ she sighed. ‘What do you think?’
    ‘I think that Mr Goodman-Brown was very lucky to leave that carriage with his mind intact. It’s quite obvious that we are not dealing here with some run-of-the-mill phantom or discarnate spirit – at least, not in this particular instance.’
    ‘What are we dealing with? A demon? Something unspeakable from the world’s remote and unfathomed history?’
    ‘I’m not sure. Goodman-Brown seemed to be quite certain that the thing was alien – not of Earth at all, and not even of this universe. And it strikes me that it does not seem to be corporeal, either – at least, not in any understandable sense.’
    ‘It could be connected with Carcosa in some way,’ Sophia suggested.
    ‘Quite possibly.’ Blackwood hesitated before continuing, ‘I think it might be a good idea to get a fresh perspective on this.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    The Special Investigator smiled and said in a loud voice, ‘Mr Shanahan! Are you there?’
    A few moments later, there was a puff of lilac smoke in the air directly above Sophia’s desk, and a tiny man appeared before them. He was about an inch tall and dressed in clothes which might have been fashionable a hundred or so years before. A pair of iridescent dragonfly wings sprouted from between his shoulders; his hair was an untidy, sandy-hued mop, and his green eyes were like tiny, glittering jewels.
    ‘Here, sir!’ said the little man. ‘How are you and her Ladyship today?’
    ‘Well, thank you.’
    ‘And your injuries… they’re almost completely healed, I’m glad to observe.’
    ‘You’re very kind to say so,’ said Blackwood, unable to keep a tone of reverence from his voice, for well he knew that the image of the tiny faerie before them was merely a disguise, and that Shanahan was, in fact, none other than Oberon himself, King of the Faeries. Blackwood had first met him when Shanahan was masquerading as the Helper from his cogitator, and had only later learned of his race’s interest in protecting Earth from the attentions of its dying sister-world, Venus.
    In truth, Blackwood felt extremely awkward at the need to maintain this pretence. He and Sophia had seen Shanahan as he really was: tall, powerful and terrifying in his beauty and magnificence, and he fought against the urge to bow down before the little man. Oberon was well aware of this, and found it both amusing and slightly tiresome, and so he preferred to maintain the appearance and persona of an amiable and not-very-important little faerie when visiting his human friends.
    ‘And what can I do for you, sir?’ Shanahan enquired.
    ‘Lady Sophia and I are at present engaged upon a rather peculiar case…’
    ‘The disturbances on the Underground Railway,’ said Shanahan.
    ‘Quite so. Are you