by Frewin Jones
“Cordelia!” said Zara.
A moment later Cordelia came bursting into their ferny shelter and dropped to her knees, her head hanging, her hair matted and dripping sweat. It was several moments before she was able to speak. “That was a merry chase!” She wiped her sleeve across her forehead. “But luck was with me. I came upon a ravine and threw the bag into it.” She grinned. “I saw at least two of the hounds go plunging to their deaths after it as I ran away. There will be confusion now for a time. The hounds were bred to follow the scent of black amber above all else, and the Knights will have trouble getting them away from the gulf.” She looked at them, noticing their somber faces. “What is the matter?”
“Tania has been burned by the Isenmort,” Edric told her. “We’re trying to figure out how to carry it.”
“Mayhap we can wrap it in leaves and tree bark,” Zara suggested.
“And what about the black amber?” Tania asked. “What’s the plan now we’ve lost that?”
“There may be black amber in Caer Kymry,” Cordelia said. Tania gave her a puzzled look. She felt as if she had heard the name before, but where?
“It is the home of Hopie and Lord Brython,” Cordelia explained. “It lies out of the straight northward path, but it may serve our needs to go there.”
“And swiftly!” Zara broke in. “Hark!”
Hoofbeats. Tania could hear them clearly. Approaching fast. Fear welled in her, overwhelming every other thought.
“Gray Knights,” Edric hissed.
Cordelia sprang to her feet, her voice harsh with alarm. “Follow.”
They burst out of the undergrowth in a tumbling panic and fled through the trees. Tania glanced back in terror. She could not see their pursuers, but she knew they could not be far behind.
“We are there!” Cordelia called back, and as Tania watched, her sister suddenly plunged downward through a mass of rhododendron bushes. Parting the branches, Tania saw that the land fell away to a deep green valley through which a white stream threaded. And there, standing close together under the lee of a raw brown cliff face, were half a dozen well-bred horses.
Tania scrambled down behind her sister. She could hear Zara and Edric following, and soon they were all running across the long grass toward the horses. Cordelia outstripped them all, calling to the horses in a strange whinnying language. The horses trotted toward her, neighing and dipping their heads in greeting.
Suddenly Tania stopped in her tracks. She turned, staring in dismay at Edric and Zara. “I forgot the metal!” she cried. “It’s still up there.”
Zara went white. “We dare not go back.”
“We have to!” Tania said. “I’ll go!”
Edric caught hold of her arm. “No!”
She glared at him. “This is my fault,” she said, shaking his hand off her. “Don’t try to stop me!” But before she was able to take another step, she saw tall gray shapes appear at the cliff edge. Gray Knights upon skeletal gray steeds. At first there were only two, but moments later another appeared, and then another, until the hilltop was lined with the evil creatures.
One of them let out an ululating cry. The others joined in, lifting their swords high into the air. The first spurred his horse on down the slope, and soon the others were following.
Returning for the metal wasn’t an option. Edric grasped Tania’s hand and ran with her to where Cordelia was waiting with the horses. Tania hardly knew what was happening as she was pushed up onto the back of one of the horses. Cordelia said something to it and gave its rump a slap.
“Cling to the mane!” she shouted to Tania. “Grip with your legs.”
In a daze Tania saw Edric and Zara and Cordelia leap onto other horses, and then the world blurred around her as her own horse began to gallop at full speed along the valley. She was vaguely aware of the piercing howls of the Gray Knights at their backs. The wind stung her eyes as she crouched low over the horse’s neck, her fingers tangled in the flying mane, her legs clenched to the creature’s body.
She was terrified of falling off, but she managed to cling on grimly as the chilling cries of the Gray Knights faded behind them. Tania risked a quick glance around. Cordelia was at her side, riding with easy grace. Edric was close behind her, Zara a little farther away.
“We have outrun them!” Cordelia shouted. “All is well!”
Tania stared at her in shock. All is well? They had lost the black amber and they had lost the Isenmort. The murderous Gray Knights of Lyonesse were close behind. And even if they were able to shake them off and make the long journey to Ynis Maw in safety, how were they going to rescue Oberon?
How were they going to save Faerie?
Part Two:
Ynis Maw
X
The night was full of huge Faerie stars, but their twinkling charm was paled by the unearthly glow of the towering crystal columns that surrounded the travelers as they rested after another long day on horseback. For once, Tania’s aches and pains were forgotten as she gazed at the circle of crystal stones. They were massive and multifaceted, sunk deep into the earth, and jutting into the sky at odd, irregular angles. They soared high above their heads—fifteen to twenty feet tall, several feet thick, their myriad planes smooth and sharp-edged, glowing and sparkling with a weird, blue-white light that threw a bewildering network of shadows over the grassy hilltop.
Tania had first caught sight of them about two hours ago: a distant flashing of mysterious sapphire light on the horizon against the purple evening sky. It had looked to her as though someone had thrown down a handful of long, slender jewels onto the summit of a solitary hill.
“Crystalhenge, at last,” Cordelia had said. “We will rest there till morning.”
It was not until they had ridden their horses up the gentle slope and moved among the immense crystals that Tania had got any real impression of the size of the monoliths.
Their horses grazed at ease in the sheltering lee of the hill. The travelers were two days’ ride from Esgarth Forest, and there had been no visible sign of pursuit so far. The first day of riding bareback had been an absolute torment for Tania. Cordelia had kept them galloping until Tania had been driven almost beyond endurance, her thighs burning from gripping the horse’s sides, her fingers numbed where she had hung on desperately to the flying mane, her whole body one big howling bruise.
They had halted after what felt like an eternity of agony; Tania had slid from the horse’s back and lay gasping for breath on the ground, hardly aware of their surroundings. Edric had gently massaged her knotted muscles while her sisters had gathered reeds from a nearby lakeside. Cordelia had twisted and tied them skilfully together to create makeshift bridles and reins.
And then, far too soon for Tania, they had to carry on their journey. Being able to hold the reins made things a little easier, and now Cordelia allowed them to move at a gentle trot. Tania was too exhausted and in too much pain to pay attention to the land through which they were passing as she was bounced up and down on the horse’s broad back, but as the day waned, she was aware that the sun was in her eyes, meaning they were traveling west.
They had slept the first night in a copse of oak trees. Tania had slipped gratefully to the ground, and despite all her aches she had fallen into an almost instant sleep. She had awoken ravenously hungry, and in less pain than she had expected. That morning had been less unbearable, and gradually through the long day the discomfort had ebbed, almost as if her muscles were remembering their old strength and some long-lost memory of how to ride was awakening inside her.
Tania stretched out in the grass, her head pillowed on her arms and her mind wandering as she gazed up through the haze of blue-white light into the velvet sky. The others were talking softly.
“How long to Caer Kymry?” she heard Zara ask.
“Three more days,” Cordelia replied. “We’ve done well thus far, and I would say we are almost halfway there, but the land will become more challenging the farther west we ride. We can ford the River Churn at Elfindal
e, and thence through Holmdene Forest and Fawnbreak Vale to Oakbank Ridge and up into the Kestrel Mountains that lie on the eastern edge of Talebolion. Then we must travel northwest by Ferndene Deeps and Woodfarrs Edge and follow the River Hollingbourne until we reach Half Moon Peak. From the shoulders of the mountain we shall be able to look down upon Caer Kymry and Ynis Tal and the Great Western Ocean.”
Tania loved the sound of the poetic names. She sat up, seeing how the flickering blue light of the rearing crystal monoliths washed over her three companions. “Is everything in Faerie as beautiful as this?” she asked drowsily. “It’s like being in a dream.”
“Faerie contains many marvels and fair sights,” Zara said. “I love most the far valley of Leiderdale, in Dinsel. There is a stone there, tall and flat-topped—the High Chantrelle, it is called—and if you stand upon it and face west and sing, the valley walls will send your songs back to you in a thousand delightful harmonies.”
“Do you have a favorite place, Edric?”
“I was brought up in Weir,” he said. “My best childhood memories are of being taken to the upper reaches of the River Lych, to a place called Reganfal. It’s a wild, rugged land where the river makes its way down a whole series of waterfalls. In high summer, when the salmon are leaping and the air is filled with rainbows, there’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
Tania found herself hoping that one day she would be able to stand with him and watch the rainbows and the salmon. One day.
“If I had to choose,” Cordelia said, “then I would say that Passion Meadows gives me more heart’s-ease than any other place.” She looked at Tania. “We would have passed through the meadows had our journey taken us directly to the north. It is a beautiful place, Tania—mile after mile of rolling fields as far as the eye can see, all covered in a blanket of poppies. They are blossoms that grow nowhere else in the Realm, for they constantly change color as the wind blows across them.” Cordelia sighed. “It is something to marvel at, indeed.”
“I hope I get to see all those places,” Tania said.
“You shall,” Zara said. “I have faith that you shall.”
“But now we should take solace in sleep,” Cordelia said. “A hard road lies before us and I would have us safe within the walls of Caer Kymry ere the sun sets three nights hence. I will take first watch.”
“Do you think they’re still following us?” said Tania.
Cordelia frowned. “I have led us on a crooked path in the hope of throwing pursuit off, and I have seen no sign that Lyonesse is close on our trail. Yet ever the birds fly north and west away, and the animals are fearful in their dens.” She shivered, staring back into the east. “The land is uneasy. I hear it in the trembling of the leaves, and in the whispering of the grass, and the murmur of running water.” She looked at Tania. “Evil haunts us, sweet sister. I feel its breath upon my neck as we ride.” She stood up and walked to the edge of the crystal ring, sitting with her back to one of the huge stones, gazing into the night with her sword ready at her side.
“And there’s a comforting thought to sleep upon, forsooth,” Zara remarked with a wry smile. She lay down, curling up on the grass and becoming still almost at once.
Edric and Tania lay near each other. Tania liked to have him close by, to be able to hear his breathing in the night and to know she could just reach out and touch him.
“Tired?” he asked.
“Yes. But not as achy as before.”
“Good. You were in a bad way when we first set off. I was worried that you might not be able to keep going.”
“Tell me about it!” They were lying on their backs now, holding hands. Tania stared sleepily into the sky. “Do the constellations have names here?” She yawned.
“Yes, they do.” Edric pointed. “Do you see those three stars in a row with the two stars going off to the left? That’s called the Starved Fool. And those five stars in the W shape is the Girl in Violet.” His pointing finger slid across the sky. “That’s the Phoenix, and next to it is the Singing Dragon.”
“How is it a dragon?” Tania murmured, her eyelids drooping. “It doesn’t look anything like a dragon.”
“You have to use your imagination,” Edric said. “Would you like to hear the story of the Phoenix and the Singing Dragon?”
Her eyes closed. “Yes, please.”
“A long time ago,” Edric began, “there were three young minstrels who lived in a place called Heron Hill….” But within a few seconds of beginning thestory, the words Edric was speaking stopped making sense to Tania and his voice became no more than a warm and comforting murmur as she fell asleep.
“No! No! No!”
“Tania! Wake up. It’s okay!” Edric’s urgent voice pulled Tania out of the nightmare. She opened her eyes to see him kneeling over her, his face anxious.
“Oh! That was so horrible!” She stared up at him; beyond his crystal-lit face, the starry night still lay deep over Faerie.
“It was only a dream.”
“It felt so real.” She shuddered. “And it’s not the first time I’ve dreamed it.” She clutched his hand. “We were on Ynis Maw,” she began falteringly. “It was dark. There was a storm and it was raining really hard. We were together, you and me. At the start we were running through a lot of rocks. Then we were climbing a steep hillside. And there was something chasing us—some kind of monster with red eyes.” She shivered at the memory. “You went ahead and then you reached down for me, but when I took hold of your hand, it wasn’t you anymore. You’d changed into”—she swallowed—“into Gabriel Drake. And he had hold of me and I couldn’t get loose.”
Edric looked down at her. “That sounds dreadful,” he said. “But I’m here now, and I’m not going to change into anyone.”
“Promise!”
He smiled. “Promise.” He leaned forward and gently kissed her. “Go back to sleep,” he whispered, his breath warm on her cheek. “We’ve got a hard day ahead of us.”
“Okay. I’ll try.” She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it. “Stay close till I fall asleep.”
He nodded. “You bet.”
She closed her eyes, comforted by the feel of his hand in hers. Shreds of the dream came drifting back like a dark mist. She opened her eyes and saw his face smiling down at her.
Reassured, she closed her eyes again and drifted into a deep and blessedly dreamless sleep.
XI
It was late in the afternoon, three days on from Crystalhenge. Tania and the others were lying on their fronts to peer over the edge of a high, rocky cliff overlooking a broad ocean bay. The sun was low on the horizon, washing the white expanse of the bay with soft, hazy light. A salty tang filled the air.
The crag was an outcrop of the brown bulk of Half Moon Peak that towered at their backs. When they had come to the crag’s eastern flank, Cordelia had gone ahead on foot to scout the land. She had come back quickly, asking the horses to wait, then leading Tania and the others to this lofty place; telling them to keep low, warning them that evil was afoot in Kymry Bay.
For the past two days they had been riding through a land of steep, rocky valleys and high mountains, forest-clad and with great broken-toothed peaks of bare brown stone. They had forded noisy, rushing streams and ridden through dense woodlands of cypress and ancient fir. In several places they had been forced to dismount and lead their horses up steep slopes where loose stones rolled under foot and hoof. At other times they had ridden to an impassable ravine or an unassailable cliff face that made them retrace their steps and find another way—but all the time Cordelia was leading them northwest toward Caer Kymry, the sea-washed fortress of Talebolion where Hopie lived with her husband, Lord Brython.
Finally, they had come to the coastline of that mountainous land—and they had found Caer Kymry under attack.
Kymry Bay was a wide crescent of white beaches and ivory-colored outcrops of rock lashed by the waves. On a high promontory in the middle of the bay stood a white castle, joined to the land by a narrow
causeway and glowing with a pearly light. Tania had never seen such a strange structure before; it looked like something that had been created and shaped beneath the waves. It had tall curved, fluted, and ribbed walls crowned with knobbed battlements from which spiraling turrets and twisting steeples coiled upward like the spikes and barbs that grow on seashells.
As Tania stared down into the bay a knot of fear tightened in her stomach. Drawn up onto the beach a little way off from the castle were two ships. They were wood-built, long and low and broad across the beam with a single mast from which hung a great square, red sail. The prows of both ships were carved into the heads of snakes with forked black tongues.
A host of Gray Knights was gathered on the causeway that led to the high-arched gateway of the castle. Tania watched with narrowed eyes as a fierce yellow light flamed upward; some kind of cart or wagon had been set alight. As the knights began to push it along the causeway toward the gates, spears and rocks and arrows rained down on them from the castle walls. Many knights fell, turning to ash; others returned arrow fire, but still the flaming wagon drew closer to the castle gates.
“They will burn the gate,” Cordelia groaned. “The fortress will be taken.”
“No, look,” said Edric. “They’re coming out.”
Just as the burning wagon was about to strike the gates they were opened from within. Moments later a company of horsemen came cantering out onto the path, dividing to avoid the flames and coming at the Gray Knights with swords and spears that glinted in the sunlight. Even from this distance, Tania could see that the armor of the mounted Faerie knights was as extraordinary as the castle from which they came. Their breastplates and shields could have been the shells of crabs; their spiraling helmets were like conches, curling upward to points.
At first the mounted Faeries pushed the attacking knights back, but more Gray Knights began to press forward, bringing the charge to a sudden, chaotic halt.
