by Edith Layton
Chapter 19
“I had planned to take you when my sister lost interest in you and your family. I meant to when you knew me better,” Aubrey told Eve. “I’d expected to take you when you trusted me, or at the very least, when you loved me.”
Eve almost stumbled as she walked beside him. What could she say? That she loved him but wished she didn’t, at least not so much that her heart hurt as she followed him into his fantasy?
“You look as frightened as Persephone must have done at the gates of the underworld,” he said, glancing at her. “Don’t be afraid. You may leave anytime you wish. Don’t be dazzled either. Half of what you’ll see will be real and half will be illusion. That’s for our sake as well as yours and your brother’s, and those mortals who have been chosen to live with us. But mostly for our sake. We don’t much care for reality, or boredom. We live for laughter and music, love and pleasure.”
“The folklore also said mischief,” she commented, clutching her cloak close around her as they tramped through the dead leaves and into the dark wood behind Far Isle.
“Yes,” he said flatly. “That too.”
It was a cool, dim, damp day. Autumn was gone but it was not yet winter. The day didn’t possess the charm of either season. There was no more bright autumn foliage overhead or underfoot, and still no snow to grace the paths or cover the naked branches on the trees or the brown tangled thickets by the side of the path. And here she was, Eve thought, tramping through a dank wood with her mad husband trying to find his mad sister and her errant brother; her seduced, errant brother, she corrected herself.
They finally neared a hole in a hillock; a suggestion of a cave half hidden by a tangle of wicked-looking thorn bushes. Aubrey stopped, turned, and looked at her. He held out his hand. She hesitated.
What should she say when she ducked into the cave and found the place alight with candles, and her besotted brother believing he was in some sort of enchanted land? Did Arianna know herb lore? Had she bemused him, and then drugged him? Because so much as Eve loved Aubrey, when she’d first met him she wouldn’t have followed him into a cave and pretended to believe it was some sort of unearthly paradise. At least, so she thought now that her enchantment with him was wearing thin, leaving only sympathy and pity, and the ever-present lure of his charm and personality, and warm, delicious body.
But because he was her husband, and because she had to find her brother, Eve took Aubrey’s hand, picked up the hem of her cloak and skirt, ducked her head, and followed him into the dark cave. It was more spacious than it had seemed from the outside. They walked a long while, bent double down a long, low and narrow corridor toward the back of it. Eve’s eyes grew accustomed to the dark, but she still didn’t like it. She felt the weight of the world pressing down on her, and the air, while still flowing, was cool, and smelled of mushrooms and roots. Eve wasn’t frightened now so much as appalled, for Aubrey’s sake.
She was dismayed at the sight of a grown man going to such lengths to follow his mad pursuit of the inexplicable. Who had started him down this strange path? she wondered. Why did he and his sister persist in their fiction? And how could Sherry have fallen into such a trap? She herself had married Aubrey, but it had all seemed above reproach, and, she thought with a smile that was more of a grimace, at least above ground, as well.
The tunnel turned downward and the further down they went, the feeling of the place changed, the air becoming thicker and darker. It was like a grave and a womb. The quiet was so pervasive it was a deadened sort of sound; Eve’s ears felt stuffed with felt. It was like being in the very belly of the earth, with the walls seeming to close in closer around them as they walked onward. And then Eve saw light ahead and quickened her pace. Since she now had to walk behind Aubrey, linked by his hand like a rope in a dark sea, he blocked her vision of the path ahead. When he suddenly stood upright, she discovered she could too.
The tunnel had widened and ended; she could feel a warm breeze and smell fresh fragrant flower-scented air. She came to Aubrey’s side and looked out.
It was like being born into a new world.
The sky was shatteringly bright after the darkness they’d been in, but the luminosity of it was more than that. It glowed, the very air here scintillated. It was balmy. It was spring here, or summer, or glorious autumn, because it seemed to be all three at once.
There was a long rise of a meadow straight ahead; the grass thick and verdant, shorn as neatly as any flock of sheep could have made it, only there wasn’t a sheep in sight. Eve looked around. There were bushes of flowers, flowers embedded in the greensward, trees were heavy with blossoms, and flowers grew everywhere by the many fountains and streams, and beside blue pools of sparkling waters.
Peonies, lilacs, daisies, irises, sunflowers and roses, apple blossoms, chrysanthemums, mead-owsweet and speedwell, all in full bloom, and all out of season, only not, because it seemed to be every season here. Full-blown fat purple grapes peeked out from where they twined among bright blue clematis, bittersweet berries glowed in the climbing laburnum, and ripe red berries grew beside trailing honeysuckle trumpets. Some trees bore only ripe fruit: peaches and cherries, apples and pears. Some bore fruit of silvery hues, cherries and chestnuts that chimed and rang like bells in the breeze. Golden plums and peaches glittered on other trees, all on the same branches.
Not only the eyes and ears were pleasured. The scents were wondrous—as were the people Eve suddenly began to see as they came dancing to greet her and Aubrey.
Just as the seasons were all one here, except for winter, the men and women Eve saw were all magnificently handsome, and none were old. They all had flawless faces, perfect graceful forms, and flowing, shining hair: silver as cobwebs and moonlight, black as a moonless night, yellow as daffodils, and gold as the heart of the sun itself. Their faces were bright and beautiful too. They were so light-footed they seemed to walk above the grass, and their laughter was sheer music. Eve watched, fascinated. Her heart felt lighter, even though the sight of all the beautiful people made her feel lesser, as a person. If this were all a charade, a masquerade, a deception, then she had never seen a finer one.
Aubrey watched her and not the scenery. He searched her expression as she took in every detail before her. She was smiling. But then, her smile faded. It didn’t feel right to her. It only took a few minutes for Eve to feel uncomfortable. She realized it wasn’t real, not in the way she knew life to be. And that unsettled her for many reasons, but mainly because she found, deep in her heart, that she wished it were real, after all.
Still now, the longer she watched, she more she noticed things that hadn’t registered with her before. She couldn’t help feeling something was askew. It wasn’t just the precious fruits. She was a country girl and she knew that pear and apple blossoms shouldn’t be falling, dappling the grass with showers of pink and white with every breeze, and then being replaced with more blossoms, rather than the little hard green knobs that would become fruit.
Larkspurs tinkled in the wind, and lilies chimed like church bells. It was a charming effect, but it couldn’t be true. Peonies were her favorite flower, and here she saw some that were pink and white and rose red, and big as cabbages. But there were so many, and they were all so flawless that they lost their magnificence. Because there ought to have been buds as well as wrinkled petals, to show how they grew and changed, and then withered and died.
She didn’t desire any silver pears, and her mouth didn’t water for golden apples. And the chiming flowers were, after the first minutes, a bit too shrill, jarring to Eve’s ears.
Her main objection to this glorious land was that it was all perfectly beautiful. Real perfection was rare, elusive, and always transitory. That made it more beautiful. This display was permanent, and so, to Eve, however beautiful, entirely artificial.
Even the beautiful people began to look too much alike for her tastes. They appeared less handsome because after the first moments of shock at seeing them, there was a certain sameness
to them. There were no irregular features to be seen, no defects, no crooked teeth or bent noses, freckles or moles or lopsided smiles that gave a man or woman character, and appeal.
She looked at Aubrey. He was the most handsome of them all, perhaps because his chin was a jot too long and his face too triangular for perfection. He looked more human. That was what bothered Eve about all the others. Whomever they were, they were of different kind. They were interesting to see, but they didn’t call to her, as he did.
But they certainly spoke to her.
“Welcome!” they cried in their musical voices. “Greetings, and joy to you, Eve!”
She ducked a nod of a bow. She tried to smile.
The happy throng of greeters stopped and looked at each other.
“This one, your wife,” one of the men said to Aubrey, “she is different.”
“She is other born,” another said. “Mortal, but though she carries our seed, she carries other legacies as well.”
“And other sensibilities,” a golden-haired man muttered.
“Yes. Mortal,” said a keenly green-eyed woman, wafting so close that Eve stepped back. “Of course. But I perceive there is more. She is not enchanted with us.”
“She has lived with me for a time,” Aubrey said.
“There are things she has become used to.”
The others smiled again.
“But, no!” came a familiar voice. “Of course there is more. Fie, brother. Did you not prepare her for her visit?”
“I do not, have not, and will not try to mislead her,” he said curtly. “She is my wife.”
Arianna shook her head. She wore a sheer gown today. It slid over her perfect body like shadows, revealing even as it concealed. “What of it?” she asked Aubrey. “You ought to have done something to make her happier. She looks at us clear eyed”
“She sees what she sees,” Aubrey said through tightened lips. “I don’t coerce her. I vowed to never do that again.”
“Indeed?” Arianna said. “And that’s better? Her brother doesn’t see so clearly, and he’s very happy. Your wife seems perturbed.”
“Sheridan?” Eve asked, grasping on word of her brother. “Sherry? Where is he? I’ve come looking for him.”
“He is here, happy, with me,” Arianna said. “Unlike you. Tell us, what do you see, little sister?” Arianna held her head up. Her corn silk hair floated out behind her like a trailing nimbus of streaming clouds. Her eyes were bright. Her gown was green, and she was barefoot.
“I see,” Eve said slowly and deliberately, looking her up and down, “that your feet are dirty.”
There was a gasp from the crowd around Arianna. And a stifled laugh from Aubrey.
But it was true. As Arianna drew up one perfect little foot, Eve saw that it was indeed grass-stained and her toes smudged with dirt. And that, though Arianna glowed, the glow wasn’t as dazzling as the sunlight and became even less so as Eve concentrated on looking at her.
That was the trick of it, Eve realized. Aubrey’s people didn’t stand close, cold inspection. At least, not her close inspection. The harder she looked, the less breathtakingly beautiful they appeared, except for Aubrey himself. She found him more beautiful every day.
Eve turned to look at him in dismay. Had he enchanted her in some new, unknowable way? Arianna hadn’t thought so. Unless, of course, Eve thought, this was all a plot, a sham of some sort, rehearsed and calculated. These were, if they were what they claimed, people who loved mischief. But they couldn’t be what they claimed, or she’d see no imperfection in them.
“What is it, Eve?” Aubrey asked her, seeing her changing expressions.
“I want to go home now,” Eve told him, looking into his eyes, trying to will him to see her sincerity and need. “And I want to take Sherry with me. This isn’t real. Even if it is, then it can’t be real for him, just as it isn’t for me. Your land, your world, your whatever it is, is very fine. But it’s not my world and can never be. Return Sherry to me.”
Arianna smiled. “At least our world affects you in some fashion, little sister. You become a poet here. Still, I agree. There is something in you that resists us. But I do not think it is in Sheridan. He shall stay here with me, as he wishes to. He does. You’ll see. Sherry!” she called, and clapped her hands. “Love! Come to me.”
Eve startled as she saw her brother come walking down the long grassy slope. He was strolling, loose limbed, smiling at butterflies and grinning at the sky.
“He’s foxed!” Eve cried. “Three sheets to the wind, and halfway amidships. He’s drunk!”
“No, little sister,” Arianna said with a smile as she walked to meet Sheridan and loop her arm in his. “He isn’t. Tell her, Sherry, love.”
“Eve!” Sherry exclaimed, focusing on his sister. “Isn’t this the best place? The people are up to all the rigs. Such amusing companions! And the drink is fine, you can drink all night and you never get an aching head. And you should eat the food. Prinny’s chef would kill for the recipes. There’s such dancing and singing, you should hear it. And though I’m not much of a singer, I never go off key. There are games and sports and such entertainments as I’ve never seen.
“I can’t remember being happier. Of course,” Sheridan added with a fond glance down at Arianna, putting his hand over hers where it lay on his arm, “I’ve never been in such good company before either. This is a wonderful place, Eve. Are you staying here too? You and Aubrey, that is? He’s very well thought of hereabouts, you know.”
He sounded sober. He was just happier than Eve had ever seen him, even happier than when he got his first pony, and more relaxed than when he’d finally found out he’d been accepted into his father’s university. He might have groused about the work there, but he seemed to have loved the place. Yet now, he seemed almost childishly joyous. Sherry was young, and he was an easygoing fellow, but he wasn’t stupid. Now he didn’t seem like her brother anymore. He was simply too satisfied.
“Sherry,” Eve said with care. “You do know that none of this is real, don’t you?”
“Real enough for me,” he answered. “It’s not uncomfortable, if that’s what you mean. Just look around. It’s wonderful. Even better than London. There’s no garbage. No horse dung, though there are horses in plenty if you want to ride. Beautiful, high-blooded creatures, sensitive to your every wish, and they don’t even have to be shod! And the people! They know more than my professors did. And there are no poor people here, no one’s starving, there’s no war anywhere. Look around you! The flowers ring like bells, the fruit tastes like honey, the honey is—well, I’m no poet; I can’t begin to describe it. And though these people aren’t exactly people as we know them, or knew them, that is to say, Damme if they’re not better, Evie. Because they are!”
Eve shook her head. “I don’t see them like that, Sherry. I did at first. But not for long. They’re different to me now, and none of it seems real. Aren’t you ever coming home?”
“My home’s with Arianna now,” he said, and looked, for a moment, sad. Then he brightened. “But if you’re not going to stay, you will keep coming to visit, won’t you? And bring Father when you can. Because I don’t think I ever want to go back. Not even for an hour.”
“Don’t worry,” Arianna told Eve, as she patted Sherry’s arm, smiling like a sated cat. “He can stay here for as long as he wants. Alas! He’ll live no longer than he would if he stayed with you. I’ve already explained that to him.”
“A pity,” Sherry said lightly. “But I’m human.”
“But he’ll be happier,” Arianna said. “And since I can’t live with him in your world without aging, and he loves me so very much as I am, that seems only fair for both of us, doesn’t it?”
Eve stood still. “Does he know what you want of him?” she asked.
Aubrey turned his head and looked at Eve, frowning slightly.
“Yes, he knows,” Arianna purred. “What do I want of you, Sherry, love? Day and night and always?”
&nbs
p; Sheridan’s fair face colored. “She’s m’sister, Arrie,” he whispered. “She ain’t like your folk. I can’t say.”
“I can,” Arianna said, staring at Eve. “I want his love, often. And he doesn’t mind. In the end, I want his child, and that he certainly doesn’t begrudge me.”
“And if that child isn’t like you?” Eve demanded. “But only like Sherry and me?”
“Why then, I want another,” Arianna said.
“And the first one?” Eve persisted. “What of it then?”
“It can stay or go, as it wishes,” Arianna said with a shrug. “It will probably love it here, unless it is like you. Really, Aubrey,” she said to her brother, “I begin to wonder at your choice. She may be capable of what we want. That would indeed be a wonder and a thing to celebrate. It’s why I sought out her brother. Because hope is such a rare thing for us. But since your Eve doesn’t care for us, will her offspring, do you think, brother?”
“Who can tell?” Aubrey said, stepping closer to Eve. “It is enough that I love my wife. You don’t have to, although it would be more pleasant for Sheridan, and for me, if you did.”
“Ah, very well,” Arianna said with a shrug. “Good luck to you, brother. I could show you more, little sister,” she told Eve, “but you’d like me less. You are welcome back to visit, or to stay, anytime you wish. I mean that, literally.” She laughed, took Sherry’s arm, and began to dance away with him.
Sherry looked back for a moment, to his sister, his eyes wide and confused. Then he whirled away with Arianna and her court of admirers.
“I want to go home,” Eve said stonily, as she watched them dance out of sight. “You promised I could go if I asked. If you want to stay, I’ll understand.”
“I go with you,” Aubrey said. “There’s no happiness here for me without you.”
They went back down the long tunnel in silence, and eventually emerged into the familiar wood and oncoming twilight. Eve wrapped her cloak around herself. Here it was cold; a breath away from winter.
