The Faerie Path

by Frewin Jones

  “Never!” Zara laughed. “The Counsel at Ravensare will last for three days, and when Father returns, I pray that he brings the beautiful sons of the Marchioness with him!” She danced a few quick steps. “I will need a new gown. Tania, will you come with me to Mistress Mirrlees and help me to choose?”

  “Actually, I was thinking of taking a walk in the gardens,” Tania said. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts.

  After Zara had gone, Tania stood next to Rathina for a while, and they watched in silence as the King’s procession dwindled away into the distance.

  “I shall go saddle Maddalena,” Rathina said at last. She looked closely at Tania and frowned. “You are not at ease,” she said, touching Tania’s arm. “What ails you?”

  “I guess I’m just having trouble coming to terms with being two people,” Tania admitted. “I’m afraid that my brain is going to fall out!”

  “A brisk ride over break and spinney with the reins in your hands and the wind in your face would blow away all doubts and fears,” Rathina declared. “I will find a fine, even-tempered steed for you if you wish.”

  “No, thanks,” Tania said. She liked horses, but she had never ridden one, not that she could remember, anyway. And a wild gallop with an experienced and fearless rider like Rathina didn’t sound like a particularly safe way to start.

  “I haven’t told anyone else about this,” she went on hesitantly, “but the night before I came here, I grew a pair of wings, and I flew.”

  Rathina’s dark eyes were unreadable. “In your dreams or in the real world?”

  “I’m not sure, not any more,” Tania said. “It felt very real. And it was totally amazing. I mean, it felt so good, as if I should always have been able to fly. But then the wings shriveled up and fell away, and I was just me again.” She looked sideways at Rathina. “I know flying is supposed to be really childish, but I loved it, Rathina, I really loved it. And I miss it!”

  Rathina rested her arm across Tania’s shoulders and drew her close. “When I am riding upon Maddalena, and the wind is high and the moors stretch out forever ahead of me, why, there are times when I can almost believe that I am flying again,” she said in a faraway voice. “You are not alone with such desires, Tania. I too wish at times for the continued gift of wings.”

  Tania felt a surge of affection for her sister. “I’m glad it’s not just me.”

  “There are tales,” Rathina went on. “Old tales that speak of a time when we were winged for all of our lives.”

  “Really?” Tania stared at her. “So what happened?”

  “Alas,” Rathina said. “I know not, and mayhap they are but stories for children.” She shook her head like a dog shaking its pelt after a swim. “But we are grown up and we are wingless. Fie! How do you put such silly thoughts into my head, Tania?” She gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Maddalena awaits,” she said. “Let this conversation be a secret between us!”

  Tania nodded, smiling. It felt good to have confided in Rathina, and it helped to know that she had such a loyal and true friend. With her sisters around her, and supported also by Gabriel’s unwavering friendship, maybe she really could be happy here…eventually.

  The Privy Gardens were quiet in the sun-drenched afternoon. Tania wandered the gravel paths between the long manicured lawns, delighting in the bright bursts of color that teemed in the well-tended flower beds. Trees lined the paths, cut into neat, rounded shapes with not a leaf out of place. There were also hedges of boxwood, trimmed into the shapes of horses and birds and chess pieces. And where the networks of paths met one another, there were statues and leaping fountains.

  The only people Tania encountered were a few gardeners, busy with their work. She approached one woman who was kneeling with a trowel, waist-deep in an ocean of dark red blooms and surrounded by a snowstorm of white butterflies.

  “What flowers are these?” Tania asked her.

  “They are gaillardias, my lady,” the woman replied.

  “The butterflies seem to like them.”

  “Indeed, my lady. They smell sweet, do they not?”

  Tania smiled. “They smell lovely.”

  The woman looked cautiously at her. “My lady? May I speak?”

  “Of course,” Tania said.

  “I do not heed rumor and gossip,” the woman began. “But I have heard it said that you are determined to quit this land and return to that Other Place.” She shuddered and made a face as if she had tasted something bitter. “My lady, it is not for me to ask, I know, but I beg you not to leave us. The King would not be able to bear it.” She touched one of the red blooms. “I would not have these blossoms fade and wither under another five hundred years of twilight. Indeed, I would not.”

  Tania looked at the woman without speaking for a few moments. “I never intended to go away permanently,” she said at last. “I just want to see my parents again, that’s all.”

  The woman stared at her in surprise. “Your father dwells in this Realm, my lady,” she said. “And your mother is dead. For what reason would you return to the creatures that held you prisoner in that Other Place?” Her mouth twisted with distaste. “Surely you do not feel kinship with those foul demons?”

  “They’re not demons!” Tania exclaimed. “It’s not like that at all.”

  The woman’s mouth tightened in disapproval but she lowered her head and didn’t speak again.

  Tania swallowed through a lump that filled her throat. No one here understood how hard this was for her! They all acted like she had been broken out of prison, as if she should be grateful for having been dragged out of her real life and dumped in this crazy place!

  She turned and walked rapidly away from the kneeling woman. It felt as if everyone in Faerie was making demands of her, forcing her to do what they wanted. She didn’t want this; she had never asked to be a princess!

  She wanted to be an ordinary sixteen-year-old. She wanted to chill out in her bedroom with a can of Coke and a family-sized bag of barbecue-style crisps and watch DVDs with her friends. She wanted to jump down the stairs in one go and crash into the living room and groan at her dad’s feeble jokes. She wanted to raid the fridge and drink milk from the carton and stuff her face with leftover pizza. She wanted to go shopping for new shoes. She wanted to talk to Jade for half the night on her cell phone and spend an afternoon in the mall trying on outrageous clothes that she’d never buy in a million years.

  She stormed along the gravel pathways for a long time, blazing with resentment, not paying attention to where she was going.

  She saw a small group of figures in the distance. Men, gathered by a fountain, talking together. Coming closer, she realized that one of them was Gabriel. She thought it would probably be best to avoid him for the moment, at least until her mood had improved, so she turned and walked back the way she had come.

  She heard quick footsteps behind her. Resignedly, she stopped.

  “Tania?” Gabriel’s voice was full of concern. “Why would you not approach? What is the matter?”

  She looked into his eyes, seeing only affection and kindness in them. “It’s nothing,” she said.

  He frowned, coming closer and resting his hand gently on her shoulder. “It is clearly not nothing, Tania,” he said. “Can I not help? Can I not be your friend?”

  “You are my friend,” Tania said fervently. “You are! But I have to think, and you can’t help me do that.” She gazed into his face. “I already know what you’ll say. I know what you think I should do. But it’s too hard; it’s just so unfair.”

  His hand came up to cup her cheek. “I would not have you in such distress for the whole Realm!” he whispered.

  “I know.” She felt a sudden need to be held and comforted. She stepped awkwardly forward, putting her arms around him and holding him tightly.

  “Tania…” His breath was in her hair, his arms close around her.

  She pulled away after a few moments. “I’m fine,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “Please
don’t follow me.” She rested her hand for a second on his chest then turned and walked away quickly.

  She tried to push thoughts of him out of her mind. Her brain was filled with enough turmoil without potential feelings for Gabriel being added to the mix.

  She walked the gardens alone for a long time, and still she couldn’t find a way through her confusion, still she couldn’t make sense of who she really was.

  At last she came to a low stone bridge that crossed a stream of water all grown over with green weeds. There was a wooden gate in a tall hedge at the far end of the bridge. Beyond the gate, she saw the rising parklands, and away in the distance, she spotted a solitary figure surrounded by hounds.

  “Cordelia,” she breathed, suddenly desperate not to be alone with her thoughts anymore.

  She ran across the bridge and pushed through the gate, racing up the gentle hillside with her hair flying and her skirts tangling around her legs.

  The two sisters walked through the high northern parklands in a constantly moving river of hounds. To Tania’s relief, Cordelia asked her no questions and seemed happy to be silent or simply to talk about her beloved animals.

  They came to an area where the trees grew more thickly. Finally feeling her mood lighten, Tania ran through the trees and the hounds flowed after her, their hides dappled with leaf green light.

  Cordelia whistled and the hounds swooped away to join her. Laughing breathlessly, Tania watched as the hounds flooded down the hill and swarmed around their mistress.

  She came to the edge of the knot of trees and waved. Cordelia waved back. Tania was about to run down to join her when a soft voice brought her up short.

  She stared back into the trees.

  “Tania, it’s me.” Edric stepped out from behind a tree trunk.

  Tania frowned, her mood immediately darkening again.

  “Please,” he begged, taking a step toward her. “Hear me out.”

  Tania stalked up to him and slapped him hard across the face. She had a moment to see his expression of shock and pain before she turned on her heel and ran down the grassy slope toward her sister and the dogs.

  Cordelia was staring at her in amazement. “What trespass did Master Chanticleer commit that you should strike him so?”

  “Him?” Tania looked back the way she had come. There was no sign of Edric now. “Oh, he’s just a pig. Don’t ask!”

  “I already have asked,” Cordelia said.

  “Well, I’m not telling you. He deserved it that’s all you need to know.” Tania scooped up a stick and threw it, running with the hounds as they chased it down the hill.

  With any luck, that would be the last she’d see of Edric. He had tricked her and lied to her and he’d made her fall in love with him, all on his master’s orders. And now he wanted to try and make it up with her! Why? So he’d feel better about himself? Not a chance! And if he did come slithering back trying to smooth-talk her again, he’d just get more of the same!

  XV

  I’ll tarry not where the darling buds of Spring adorn the land,

  Nor will I stray where the country feels the grip of Winter’s hand,

  And when the Summer high blazes from the meadow sky,

  I’ll be far from here and by your side.

  It was late afternoon of the same day; Tania and Zara were in the Princesses’ Gallery, singing together to the accompaniment of the spinetta and the lute. Zara’s voice lifted in descant while Tania sang the melody, her fingers unhesitatingly picking out the notes on the lute. The instrument felt so natural in her hands, its pear-shaped belly resting in her lap, the fret-board held firmly in the crook of thumb and forefinger, and her fingers dancing over the strings.

  Cordelia and Sancha were also in the long attic room that stretched out under the roof of the Royal Apartments. Sancha had a book open in her lap, but she had looked up from the page. Cordelia’s fingers held a fine bone needle threaded with green silk. She was working on some embroidery, but had paused to pay better attention to her sisters’ duet.

  The song came to an end. Zara gave a final trill on the spinetta, which Tania echoed on her lute. Cordelia and Sancha clapped.

  “I have sorely missed your music-making,” Sancha said. “And that is a lovely melody indeed.”

  “And a most charming lyric,” Cordelia added. “I’ll be far from here and by your side.” She smiled. “Not, I think, a sentiment that Master Chanticleer will ever hear from Tania’s lips!”

  Tania turned to her. “We weren’t going to talk about that, remember?” She had asked Cordelia not to mention her encounter with Edric.

  Zara looked up with interest. “Tell on,” she prompted. “What of Gabriel’s servant?”

  Cordelia grinned. “I can say no more,” she declared. “I am sworn to silence.”

  “Oh, thanks,” said Tania with a roll of her eyes. “Way to keep a secret, Cordie!”

  Zara slid off her stool and came to sit beside Tania. “I offer you two choices,” she said, putting her arm around Tania’s neck. “You may tell all this instant, or you may endure the pricks and thorns of my curiosity from now until doomsday. The choice is yours.”

  Tania looked at Cordelia. “See what you’ve done?”

  “You would best confess all,” Sancha said with a laugh. “Zara is remorseless in pursuit of such gossip.”

  Tania shook her head in resignation. Sisters! It was worse than being at school. A person couldn’t keep anything private.

  “Is it a great scandal?” Zara asked gleefully. “Has he made improper advances to you? A kiss, mayhap, in a cloistered arbor? Words of love whispered at a midnight tryst?”

  “No! Nothing like that!” Tania retorted. “Look, if you absolutely have to know, I don’t like the way he helped Gabriel bring me here.”

  Sancha closed her book and leaned forward. “Of what methods do you speak?”

  “He lied to me,” Tania said. “He told me…Well, never mind what he told me. I don’t think much of it, that’s all.”

  “He lied?” Sancha echoed, puzzled. “I do not understand. What falsehoods could he have spoken?”

  Zara’s eyes widened in sudden understanding. “He professed love, did he not?” she breathed. “He gulled you with passionate words in order to draw you away from the Mortal World. By my troth, what a rogue!”

  Tania felt her cheeks go scarlet. “Well, yes,” she mumbled. “Something like that.” She shook off Zara’s arm and stood up. “Can we talk about something else, please?”

  “Indeed we cannot!” Zara exclaimed. “I must be told every detail of Master Chanticleer’s perfidy, or I shall not be able to sleep for thinking on it!”

  Tania looked at her. She wasn’t upset by her sister’s guileless curiosity, but her history with Edric was still too painful for light-hearted conversation. “Then I’m afraid you’ll just have to lie awake nights,” she said with a half-smile. “I’m going to find Rathina; at least she won’t make fun of me.”

  Cordelia looked up at her. “Do not be angry,” she said. “Zara meant it only in jest.”

  Tania smiled. “Yes, I know that,” she said. “I’m not annoyed.” She headed for the door. “I’ll see you guys later.”

  She ran down the long twisting stairway, suddenly eager to be with Rathina, maybe even to confide in her once more—to pour out all her fears and troubles and pain, to rekindle the loving friendship of her forgotten childhood.

  She knocked on the door of Rathina’s chamber. There was no answer from within. Disappointed, she turned the handle. The door opened silently into a room of dark red shadows.

  “Rathina?” Tania called. Still no reply. She stepped over the threshold and looked around. Red silk drapes stretched in swaths across the ceiling and hung from the high walls, moving constantly in billows and ripples as though troubled by a breeze. If there were any windows in the room, they were shuttered. The only light came from a large chandelier that hung from the ceiling, the thick yellow candles giving off a sultry, brooding g
low.

  Where the candlelight struck the blousing drapes, the silk glowed scarlet, but in the folds and creases, the sumptuous shadows were a deep wine red.

  The bed was also swathed in dark red silk, the curtains gathered at the head and spilling down so that the bed seemed to flow with dark blood. Swags and swaths of silk hung from the furniture, collecting in a scarlet froth on the maroon floorboards.

  Tania became aware that dark shades were moving across the swelling curtains of silk, human figures gliding in a slow dance, their dark and ghostly images somehow imprinted on the flowing silk.

  She shivered, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling. The atmosphere of the room was weird and disturbing. Uneasily, she approached the rippling drapes. The slow-moving dancers slid silently over the silk, holding hands, their heads bowed, their eyes hidden. Suddenly, as she came closer, a head lifted and a face looked briefly into hers—a gaunt white face with hollowed-out featureless eyes. A hand reached toward her and skeleton-thin fingers beckoned.

  Tania stepped back with a gasp.

  She heard a sound behind her.

  “Tania!” Rathina swept into the room. She pulled curtains aside and threw open a shuttered window. Warm evening sunlight poured into the room, driving away the shadows.

  Tania gasped, blinking in the sudden burst of light. “I was looking for you.”

  “And I for you, my dear sister,” Rathina said with a smile. “Did my dancers unsettle you? Do not fear; they are always sad when I am absent. See how they dance now!”

  Tania gazed at the flowing silken drapes. The mournful tempo of the dance had changed completely. Now the brightly dressed figures were circling the room with swift-moving feet and merry faces.

  “What did you want me for?” Tania asked.

  “It is time for you to meet with Maddalena,” Rathina said, linking her arm with Tania’s and leading her from the room. “And maybe in the morn, your riding lessons can begin.”

  “I’d like that,” Tania said. “I’d like that a lot.” She looked fondly at her sister. “And there are some things I’d like to talk to you about, if that’s okay.”