The Faerie Path

by Frewin Jones

  XI

  She was crouched on the ground with her arms folded against her chest, her body bent double so that her head was almost on her knees. From somewhere close by she heard the liquid call of a nightingale. A warm breeze rustled the leaves above her head. She could smell the pungent scents of earth and trees.

  “Oh, great!” she groaned, lifting her head. “Perfect!”

  She was back in the forest.

  The only difference from her previous world slips was that there was no feeling of nausea this time. Maybe she was just too plain angry for that.

  She knelt up, sitting on her heels. She was still clutching the leather-bound book. In a fit of rage, she flung it away. It thudded onto the path, falling open in a flurry of thick ivory-colored pages.

  “Why can’t I control it?” she shouted. “What’s the use of having this power if I can’t control it?”

  The canopy of branches deadened her voice.

  She gave a snarl of frustration. Ahead of her, the forest trail opened up and she could see part of the white bridge. She looked over her shoulder, staring deeper into the forest. Was it worth trying to get back again?

  She shook her head. She was too tired. Her legs felt like lead. She just wanted to get back to her room.

  She glared at the book lying open in front of her.

  “This is all your fault,” she snarled at it. “Stupid, stupid book!”

  She crawled over to it.

  It had fallen open on the page with the poem.

  One alone will walk both worlds

  Daughter last of daughters seven

  With her true love by her side

  Honest hand in true love given

  The book was only a record of her life. Of Princess Tania’s life. It wasn’t the book’s fault she couldn’t control her power.

  Tania picked it up and got to her feet. She gently closed it and smoothed the leather cover, as if trying to make up for her burst of anger.

  She began the weary hike back to the palace.

  She paused in the middle of the bridge and leaned over the sliding star-speckled water, remembering how Gabriel had given her his cloak when he had first brought her into Faerie, how he had been so gentle and kind, as if he understood how confused she must have been.

  There was a small stone lying on the parapet of the bridge. She picked it up and reached out over the water to drop it. It was swallowed up by the river with a soft clop. The field of mirrored stars wavered and ripples rimmed with tiny points of light spread out below her.

  “The thing is,” she said quietly, “if I’m really Princess Tania, then everything here is real.” A cold shiver ran down her spine. “Everything!”

  Including the dreadful truth that Edric really was Gabriel’s servant and that he…that Evan…had never loved her. That the boy she loved more than she had ever loved anyone in her life had never really existed. That it had all been pretense.

  She turned around and slid forlornly down the wall of the bridge. She sat there, huddled up, clutching the book against her chest and staring up into the sky.

  Tears began to flow down her cheeks, and for an endless, desolate time, she surrendered herself to a misery more profound than anything she had ever known before.

  She had lost all track of time. Gradually, the tears had stopped. Gradually she had pulled herself to her feet to continue the long walk back to her chamber.

  She was glad that she met no one on the way.

  She opened the door to her chamber and went inside. Candles had been lit and placed inside red glass flutes; they bathed the room in a warm ruby glow. She glanced at the tapestries. Night brooded in sultry colors on every embroidered panel, and she could see from the movement of clouds, the rippling of leaves, the wash of the sea, that they were still alive. But they gave her no comfort now. She walked across to the bed and slipped the book under her pillow. Then she crossed to open a window.

  She heard a sound behind her, the sharp creak of a floorboard.

  There was someone in the room. She spun around.

  It was Edric. He must have been standing behind the door. But now he was in full view, blocking her way out.

  He was dressed in a dark gray doublet and hose, his blond hair swept back off his face. The face she loved. The face of the man who had betrayed her.

  A surge of fury rose in Tania.

  “What do you want?” she demanded.

  He took a step toward her. “I need to talk to you.”

  She backed away. “Well, I don’t need to talk to you, Evan,” she said between gritted teeth. “Oh, sorry, it isn’t Evan, is it? What was your real name again? Edric? Yes, that’s it. Edric.” She glared at him. “Do you know what I hate most about you right now, Edric? It’s not that you were hired to drag me here whether I liked it or not. It’s the fact that you tricked me into believing you loved me. You must have thought I was such a fool!” She choked, and it was a second or two before she could continue. “That’s why I am never, ever going to forgive you. And that’s why I want you out of my room.” Her voice rose to a shout. “Now!”

  Edric strode toward her. She took another step backward, feeling the paneled wall against her back. His hands came down on her shoulders, holding her there.

  “You must listen to me!” he said fiercely.

  She brought one arm up to knock his hand away. Her other hand rammed into his chest and sent him staggering backward.

  “Get your hands off me!”

  “I’m sorry.” he gasped. “But you have to know the truth.”

  “What would you know about the truth? You lied to me from the moment we met!” she screamed. “Get out! Get out! Get out!” She lunged at him, flailing with her fists.

  He fell back, holding his hands up to defend himself.

  “What coil is this?” A new voice cut across the room.

  Tania saw Gabriel standing in the open doorway, his eyes shining like moons.

  “Gabriel!” She gasped, relief flooding through her.

  Gabriel swept into the room. He glowered at his servant. “Edric? What mischief do you make in Princess Tania’s bedchamber?”

  Edric fell onto one knee, his head bowed low. “My lord,” he said. “I only came here to beg the princess’s pardon for my pretenses of affection in the Mortal World. I wanted to explain that everything that I did was for her own sake.” He glanced up at Tania. “I wish only for her most gracious forgiveness.”

  Tania stared down at him, filled with contempt and loathing. “Fat chance!” she hissed.

  Her fingers moved up to the warm amber teardrop that hung from her throat, the pendant she had believed had been a gift from the boy who loved her. Her fist closed around it; she intended to rip it from around her neck and throw it in Edric’s face.

  Gabriel raised his hand to stop her. “Do not, my lady,” he said. She stared at him—it was almost as if he had read her mind. “The Amber Stone was never a gift from this man. It was my gift to you. I had meant to give it to you on our wedding eve.”

  Tania blinked. “Oh.”

  “It was because of the Amber Stone that I was able to come to you in the Mortal World and bring you back home,” Gabriel said. “While you wear it, I will always be able to find you, both in this world and in the other.”

  The teardrop glowed in her hand as she clutched it.

  Gabriel turned back to the kneeling servant.

  “Get you hence from here,” he growled, all the velvet gone from his voice. “If you force your company upon Princess Tania again, it will be the worse for you.” He pointed a warning finger at him. “Beware the Amber Prison, Master Chanticleer! Beware!”

  Edric slunk from the room like a beaten dog. Tania was glad to see him go; he deserved worse than a reprimand, in her opinion. As the door closed behind him, Gabriel took hold of Tania’s hands.

  “I apologize for my servant’s actions,” he said. “I would not have you distressed by such things.” He smiled at her. “All this world must be a co
nfusion and a bitter torment to you. Memories of your mortal life must flock like ravens in your mind. I wish that I could find a way to ease your suffering.”

  “It is kind of freaky,” Tania agreed. “But I suppose I’ll find some way to get over it…eventually.”

  “I pray that it be so.”

  She looked into his face. “This is all really happening, isn’t it?” she said quietly.

  “It is.” His eyes were warm and comforting as he gazed back at her.

  She frowned. “Back…back where I came from,” she began hesitantly, “Edric was a real person. But you were, kind of, not quite there. I could see through you. Why was that?”

  “I sent Edric to you as a real man,” he said. “He was protected by black amber, a rare stone that holds back the poison of Isenmort.”

  “His wristband,” Tania said. “That’s why he always wore it.”

  “Indeed,” Gabriel said. “It would have been perilous indeed for him to have taken it off. But I, my lady, I was but an image in your mind.”

  “But I touched you, on the balcony; I had hold of your hand.”

  Gabriel smiled. “That was not I, my lady—that was done by your own powers—reaching to me across the worlds.”

  Tania looked thoughtfully into his face.

  “I was about to marry you when I disappeared, wasn’t I?”

  He closed his eyes for a moment before replying. “You need not speak of that, my lady,” he said. “As earth covers earth, so let the past bury the past.”

  “I’m not exactly sure what you mean by that,” Tania said. “But I’d like to talk about it now, if that’s okay with you.” She gave a half-smile. “I suppose we must have been…well, fond of each other.”

  “There was great affection,” he said quietly. “For my part, at the very least.”

  “So you must have been upset when I just vanished like that,” she said.

  “Truly,” he said, his voice only just above a whisper. “I searched for you down all the long ages until at last I found you.”

  “How did you find me?” Tania asked. “Was it something to do with that school trip to Hampton Court? I felt weird all the time I was there, as if I knew the place without ever having been there. And parts of this palace are just like it.”

  “Indeed, my lady. There are places where Faerie and the Mortal World come close to each other.”

  “Yes, Rathina told me about that,” Tania said. “And Hampton Court and this palace are one of them. Did you see me when I was on the school trip?”

  “I did not see you with my eyes,” Gabriel said. “But I felt your presence.” He touched his fingers to his head and to his chest. “In my mind and in my heart. For a long time, I worked with the Mystic Arts to find a way of sending an emissary into the Mortal World. I chose Edric, believing him faithful and keen of wit, and I sent him through the portal in pursuit of you.” He smiled. “And he performed his duties well, my lady.”

  “Yes,” Tania said dryly. “A bit too well, in some cases.” She looked at him. “I’m sorry if this is a difficult question for you,” she said. “But are you still hoping that we’ll get married?”

  It was a few moments before Gabriel replied. “I brought you here for the good of the King and for the Realm of Faerie,” he said. “I had no thought for myself. You have no memory of our bond of affection, and I would never ask you to fulfill a promise made five centuries ago by a woman you do not even remember being.” He gazed over her shoulder and out of the window. “To see the sun rise each morn over Faerie, and to watch the stars revolve in their ancient nighttime dance is blessing enough, my lady. I desire nothing more.”

  “Call me Tania,” she said. “And tell me about a Faerie Wedding. I’d like to know what happens when a duke and a princess get married.”

  Gabriel let out a gentle laugh. “Surely, I will,” he said. “Have you a mirror, Tania?”

  “Yes, over there.”

  “Come, then, and I shall show you great wonders.”

  She led him to the chest-of-drawers and picked up the hand mirror.

  “Sit you down,” he said. She pulled a chair from against the wall and sat on it. Gabriel stood behind her, one hand resting on the back of the chair. He leaned over her and passed his hand across the mirror, whispering words she didn’t catch.

  “A royal wedding lasts for three days and three nights.” His soft voice came from close behind her. “It begins with the Ritual of Hand-Fasting, which takes place in the Hall of Light.”

  As he spoke, the mirror clouded over; when the mist had gone, Tania found herself staring into a huge, bright hall. But moments later, with no sensation of movement at all, she was no longer holding the mirror and seeing the hall through it; she was actually in the huge room.

  It had a high-vaulted ceiling and walls pierced by many tall stained glass windows burning with sunlight so that the whole hall was filled with rainbows of color. Choral music filled the air, and the hall was crowded with people in gorgeous, glittering clothes.

  A narrow aisle ran the length of the hall, ending at a platform where a cauldron stood on four stout feet. The air above the cauldron shimmered as if there was something hot inside. Gabriel was standing beside the cauldron, looking every inch the Duke of Faerie.

  Oberon and Titania were seated on thrones behind the cauldron. They wore slender crystal crowns, and great white cloaks of silk and ermine, fur-lined and sparkling with star white jewels, were draped over their shoulders.

  Tania looked down at herself and realized she was dressed in a white wedding gown. As she walked along the aisle, she felt the weight of a long train dragging behind her. White rose petals fluttered down from the ceiling until the air was sweet and heavy with their scent.

  She heard light steps at her back, and, turning her head, she saw her sisters walking behind her, their arms filled with white flowers.

  When she came to the end of the aisle, Gabriel reached down to help her onto the dais. The touch of his fingers made her tremble with anticipation. Now she could see that the cauldron was full of a restless amber liquid that seethed and fumed and shone like trapped sunlight.

  Gabriel took a small glass jug from a table beside the cauldron. He dipped it into the swirling liquid and lifted it out. Glistening amber drops ran down the sides of the jug and fell back into the cauldron. Tania held her hand out over the liquid, feeling the rising warmth on her skin. Gabriel clasped her hand. He tipped the jug and a flood of thick fluid amber poured down over their hands. Tania winced, expecting it to burn, but it was only warm and as heavy as honey, coating their joined hands and running off in big golden drops.

  She gave a gasp of surprise as her hand, her arm, and her whole body began to tingle. She turned her head to look at Gabriel as the intense sensation burned through her. He was gazing at her and his eyes were filled with love and joy.

  She felt as if she was going to faint. She gasped for breath, her head swimming, only his brilliant silver eyes remaining constant in the heady swirl of her senses.

  “Gabriel…I…” But before she could say any more, the Hall of Light dissolved around her and she was back in her bedchamber, gazing into the clouded mirror.

  “Oh, wow!” she breathed as the clouds faded and she found herself staring at her own face again. “That was unbelievable!” She put down the mirror, her hand shaking. “And the night before all that, I just disappeared,” Tania said, gazing out of the window at the starry sky. “But why didn’t I come back to you?”

  “Only you know the answer to that question, Tania,” Gabriel said. “One alone shall walk both worlds. I think perhaps you did not mean to walk that path at that time and in that way.”

  “Rathina said the same thing,” Tania admitted. “She said we were just messing about.”

  “You walked between the worlds again this night, did you not?” Gabriel asked her.

  “Yes, how did you know that?”

  “The Amber Stone calls to me,” Gabriel said. “While you we
ar it, you can never again be lost. You entered the Mortal World to speak with those whom you knew as your parents, but Faerie drew you back.”

  There was a sadness in his voice that gave Tania an unexpected pang of guilt. Gabriel was obviously hurt and upset that she had gone back into the Mortal World.

  “I beg you not to go there again, Tania,” he said softly. “It is perilous indeed. This is your true home; this is where you belong.”

  “I know that now,” she said. “But I have to let my mum and dad know that I’m all right.”

  Gabriel’s voice was little more than a whisper. “I would not lose you again, Tania. I would not have harm befall you.”

  Tania was lost in silent thought for a few moments. She felt a rush of sympathy and understanding for him, or was it more than that? “It must have been really bad for you,” she said. “Losing the person you loved on the night before you were meant to be married.”

  He didn’t reply.

  “I’m really sorry.” She reached back over her shoulder, holding her open hand out to him.

  He didn’t take it.

  “Gabriel?” She turned her head.

  He was gone—but a single, long-stemmed red rose lay on her bed, and her room was suddenly full of its sweet scent.

  XII

  Tania opened a window and leaned out into the warm, aromatic night. Edric wouldn’t be paying her any more unannounced visits, she was sure of that. She wondered what the Amber Prison was. Judging by the look on Edric’s face when Gabriel mentioned it, she guessed it wasn’t exactly a theme park.

  “Who am I?” she asked aloud into the star-filled sky. “I know I’m Princess Tania—at least, I’m pretty sure I am—but I still don’t feel much like her. I feel like Anita Palmer.” She frowned and said the name again aloud. “Anita Palmer of nineteen Eddison Terrace, London, the United Kingdom, Europe, Earth, the Solar System, the Milky Way, the Universe.” She smiled, remembering that she had written her address out like that for a few weeks after a visit to the planetarium on her eighth birthday.