Susan Spencer Paul - [Enchanter 01]

by Touch of Night

  “The Tarian is a mystery, even to me,” Steffan replied quietly. “Perhaps even to Malachi, a little. I didn’t expect it to happen, either, and I’m sure he never thought anything like this could occur.”

  “You must go back,” Niclas told him with sudden anger. “At once. You must go and show her the way and bring her back. She’ll be afraid there, all alone. She must be terrified now that you’ve gone.”

  “I don’t possess the power to bring a mere human back. I tried, but she hadn’t the knowledge or power to help. There are some things that greater wizards simply can’t do, even those of us who are mystics. Only an extraordinary wizard will be able to bring Miss Linley safely out.”

  “I’ll go,” Niclas said. “I’ll find Julia and bring her back.”

  “You can’t even get into the spirit realm,” Steffan said. “We need—”

  “An extraordinary wizard,” Niclas said bitterly, closing his eyes. “That means calling Malachi and leaving Ceridwen unprotected. Or taking Julia to him.” He gazed down into her pale face. “How long can her body live without her spirit? We can make London in two or three days if we ride without stopping. And without coming upon Cadmaran or any of his men.”

  “I don’t know how long she has,” Steffan said. “You know that I’ve spent many days in the spirit realm, but I was born for such mysteries. I can’t say how long Miss Linley’s body will wait for its spirit to return before giving way. I’ve never known a mere human to enter the mystical realm before, so I’ve no experience to turn to. She seemed—”

  Niclas lifted his head. “What?”

  “A little bewildered,” Steffan said. “Not frightened, precisely. More curious. When I left her she understood that she might be there for some time.”

  “What did she say?”

  Steffan smiled slightly. “She said that she knew you would find a way to get her out. I told her that she was right.”

  “Aye,” Niclas said, gazing into her face. “I will get her out.” Bending, he kissed her still lips. “I’ll have you back safe, Julia. I vow it on my life. Don’t be afraid.” He looked at Steffan. “We’ll leave for London immediately. I’m sorry, but I’ll need you and your men to accompany me in case we happen upon Cadmaran.”

  Steffan moved toward him, setting everything aside and leaning to grasp one of Julia’s hands.

  “She’s cold, and her heart beats very slowly. I cannot assure that she’ll survive such a journey.”

  “There’s no alternative,” Niclas said. “We’ll leave now.”

  He tried to stand, but Steffan held him back.

  “There’s another choice, Niclas. One that may serve us—Miss Linley—far better.”

  “What?”

  “Kian,” Steffan said, releasing a taut breath. “I think he might—”

  “Kian?” Niclas repeated angrily. “Have you lost your senses?”

  “Not in the least,” Steffan assured him, rising to his full height. “Only think a moment. He’s Malachi’s heir and a powerful wizard, despite his youth. And he’s been to the spirit realms before. Malachi bade me take him when he reached his majority, and he has accompanied me twice since. He’ll know his way and how to find Miss Linley, and he possesses the power and knowledge to bring her back.”

  Niclas tried to clear his whirling head, to think on the matter more clearly. Kian Seymour was a wild, ill-behaved young man blessed with powers he could scarcely control and cursed by a willful, sometimes angry temper. He and his twin brother, Dyfed, gave Niclas no end of trouble during their yearly visits to town. When he thought of the fights they’d gotten into, the riots they’d started, the buildings they’d set fire to, most of which had subsequently burned to the ground, it made him want to consign them to the netherworld. For the hundredth time.

  But Steffan was right on two important points: Kian had been declared Malachi’s heir at his birth, by the Seer of Llongolath, no less, and he was a powerful, if not yet very controlled, extraordinary wizard.

  “Do you really think he can do it? What if he should fail? Julia might die.”

  Steffan’s expression was completely sober and serious. “I cannot believe that will be the outcome. I’ll go back with Kian and lend him my aid. If we can’t bring her out together, then I’ll return to her body to keep it alive until Malachi can come. We won’t lose her, cfender. Trust me in this.”

  It took all his will to do so, but Niclas found that he had little other choice. He would have to trust his mad cousins to bring Julia back.

  “What of Cadmaran?” he asked. “Can we reach Castle Tylluan safely?”

  “I didn’t have time to seek any answers regarding him while I was gone, but my senses tell me that he’s not yet crossed the border into Wales. Whether he will or not, I cannot say, but we will be well ahead of him if we start tonight. He’ll not be able to catch us.”

  “Then tell your men to get Enoch saddled,” Niclas said. “We’ll ride straight through until we reach the castle. I don’t care what either weather or fortune may bring. We’ll achieve Tylluan before night falls on the morrow.”

  Thirteen

  But what are you, if you’re not one of the dewin? What did you come for?”

  “I don’t know,” Julia answered, weary of trying to explain the situation to her hosts. “I don’t know how I came to be here. I was sleeping in a bed and—”

  “Bed?” one asked, looking quizzically at the others. “What is that?”

  “It’s where a person sleeps,” Julia explained, but they only looked more puzzled. “Rests,” she said. “Don’t you ever rest here?”

  The beings surrounding her looked at one another and murmured wonderingly.

  They had been very kind to Julia since coming across her some hours earlier, and had taken her to a safe place where she could wait for Steffan’s return. They had assured her that he would return; he had told them so before he’d left the night before, and had asked them to take care of Julia until then. But she had wandered away from the spot where he’d left her—it was difficult not to wander here—and it had taken them a great deal of searching to find her. She’d been a little alarmed at first, for the creatures didn’t look . . . particularly human. Rather, they appeared to be a cross between birds and cats—which was astonishing, considering the natural enmity of those particular animals on earth, but the combination made for a lovely being.

  They were sleek and elegant, these creatures, covered in gleaming fur, with luminous tilted cat-eyes and clawed hands. But there the likeness to felines ended. Their hind legs, on which they walked, were longer and heavier than their forearms, but all four were similar to what might be found on a hawk or eagle. Two large, beautiful wings sprouted from their upper backs, and it appeared to be their tendency to fly rather than walk, though they could do both.

  They could speak, though their mouths—also feline—didn’t move. And Julia wasn’t at all sure whether it was English they spoke or some unearthly language that she, being here, was able to discern, as she was having a good deal of difficulty making them understand common English words.

  The first of these had been “sit,” for she had wished to find a place to do so. Her body—or spirit, or whatever it was—had begun to feel weary after so many hours of wandering, and she longed just to sit. But the creatures appeared not to know what she meant. Further attempts proved to be equally fruitless, for they didn’t know what “chair,” “seat,” or “couch” meant, either. Which made perfect sense, of course, for they rested upon their haunches and had no need of anything other than the ground to rest upon. With a sigh, Julia had resigned herself to staying upright for the remainder of her time . . . in this place. Wherever it was. Whatever it was.

  This certainly wasn’t how she had envisioned heaven. Although she supposed it wasn’t. Steffan had said something about a spirit realm, and had assured her that it was a safe place before he’d left again.

  It had been such a shock to see him there. The entire event had been a shock. Sh
e had been wakened from a delightful slumber in Steffan’s cave by the Tarian, which had begun to tingle and grow warm and very heavy. It had felt as if it might crush through her chest, but though she’d grasped the chain with both hands she’d been unable to pull the necklace away. The pressure had become so great that she’d been unable to breathe or call out for help, and then, suddenly, she’d started sinking. No, that wasn’t quite right. It had been more like a draining, as if her soul were twirling right out of her body and into a hole in the cavern floor. Spinning, she had flown down, down, down through darkness, and then she’d lost her sense of direction. It seemed as if she had turned about and begun to spin upward again, only this time through light. She had never come to any kind of landing; she had simply stopped spinning and, opening her eyes, had found herself in a world not terribly unlike the one she’d just left, save for one marked difference—there was nowhere to sit.

  There were fields of grass, streams, lakes, trees, and low rolling hills, but no rocks or stumps or fences. Everything was perfectly smooth and clean and bright. There wasn’t a pebble in sight, or any patches of uncovered dirt. And very little variety to the landscape, or at least what she’d seen of it thus far. She had wandered a long time after Steffan departed and had found that the land looked fairly much the same. The place that the creatures had brought her to was a little different, perhaps, for the trees formed a great circle and they stood in the midst of it.

  “Steffan is one of the dewin,” one of the creatures said. “They alone visit us. You must be one of them to have come. If you are not, then what are you?”

  This particular question had been asked in various ways, but her answer (always the same) hadn’t yet mollified them.

  “I assure you I’m not a dewin,” she said, speaking very slowly and clearly. “I possess no magic at all. I believe this happened because I’m wearing—I mean to say, my physical body, which I left in my own world, is wearing a necklace called Tarian. It’s very powerful, and Steffan—the dewin—seemed to think it must have reacted to his coming and taken me along. I’m sorry I can’t explain it more fully, for I don’t quite understand it myself. This is all very strange to me, you see.”

  She looked down at her present form, which resembled her actual body as far as she could tell, save that she was wearing a long white tunic and appeared to be glowing. She could experience some sensations, such as touch, sight, and sound, but she had been in this mysterious place for at least a full day, perhaps longer—she couldn’t be quite sure, as they evidently didn’t have night here, either—and she hadn’t yet felt hunger or thirst. Weariness, she suspected, was also supposed to be absent in this place, but that she most definitely felt. And it worried her.

  But her worry must be as nothing to Niclas’s. She had spent enough time with him even on this short journey to know that he’d be filled with fear for her. His concern for Jane and young Mister Larter—indeed, for anyone whose feelings he discerned—had told her a great deal about Niclas Seymour’s kindness. She could only hope that Steffan had been able to allay his fears, as he had promised he would do before he’d left her here.

  It had been such a surprise to find Steffan in the midst of her wanderings. She wasn’t sure who was more shocked to see whom—although she had certainly known who was gladdest. She had never hugged anyone with such strength in her life, and certainly not any man she wasn’t related to.

  It was when he pulled away and looked down at her that she had first realized that he was actually seeing her, and had remarked, rather stupidly, “Why, Steffan, you can see.”

  “Can I?” he asked, looking about. “Is this what the physical world looks like to you? I think perhaps we may be seeing it differently, for I sense that our realm is far different from this, though I see it perfectly well in my own way. But Julia, what in heaven’s name are you doing here? Niclas assured me you weren’t of our kind.”

  And so it had gone, until Steffan had thought of the Tarian.

  The Tarian had been the only explanation he’d been able to come up with for her presence. The trouble was, he didn’t think the necklace would help her to get back. They had tried, goodness knows, with all their might, with disappointing results. She’d not been able to hold Steffan’s hand long enough to stay with him when he made to depart, and in the end they’d decided that he must go back without her to alert Niclas and find a solution. Julia had agreed wholeheartedly, for she was certain that Niclas would think of a way to get her back.

  “But if you are not one of the dewin,” the same creature asked yet again, “then what are you? We wish to know what manner of magic you possess.”

  “I don’t possess any magic,” she said wearily, wishing that Steffan would return. Or, better yet, that Niclas would suddenly appear. She longed to see him again, to feel his touch. It seemed as if an eternity had passed since she had kissed him in the cave. It had been bold, she knew, especially after they had discussed the matter of kissing in such detail only hours earlier. But she was five and twenty and had been in love with him for eight years. If she didn’t kiss him now, during these last few days they would be together, she would very likely never have the chance. And, encouragingly enough, he hadn’t seemed to mind. He’d been surprised, clearly, but not displeased. Not in the least.

  “But what are you?” the creature pressed.

  Julia sighed and tried to think of yet another way to explain it, but she was becoming so very tired.

  “I’m—” she began, but a new voice interrupted.

  “She is the lady of the Tarian, which the Dewin Mawr gave to her himself, and you are not to bother her with so many questions.”

  Julia opened her eyes to see a shining young man walking slowly into their midst; an extraordinarily handsome young man with white-blond hair, bright blue eyes, and elfin features that almost made her mistake him for Lord Graymar. But this man’s hair was much, much longer than the earl’s, falling well past his shoulders. He was tall and slender, as well, but younger; he scarce looked to have passed his twenty-first year. Like her, and Steffan, when she had seen him before, he was dressed in a tunic of gleaming white. The creatures, when they saw him, bowed low in recognition.

  “Miss Linley?” he asked, holding out a hand and smiling. “I am Kian Seymour, one of Niclas’s cousins.”

  “Oh,” she murmured, allowing him to touch her fingers with a gracious kiss. “I know of you, sir. And of your brother. You—” But she stopped herself, and instead said, “Oh, dear.”

  His smile widened. “Yes, I imagine you’ve heard of Dyfed and me before, especially as I understand you spend much of your time in London. We’ve caused a great deal of trouble there, I fear.” His countenance was so charmingly contrite that she couldn’t help but like him. “Lord Graymar and our dear cousin Niclas have been quite put out with us. But now I have the opportunity to make some amends. I’ve come to bring you back.”

  “Oh, have you?” she said with relief. “I’m so thankful, sir. I confess I’m terribly weary and wish to leave.”

  “Yes, I know,” he said, and his expression grew troubled. “And that is why we cannot delay. Steffan is coming to help. He’ll be here shortly.”

  “I’m sorry to have been such trouble to you,” she told the creatures, “and thankful for all your kindness.”

  They bowed low once more and one of them said, “It has been our pleasure, Lady of the Tarian, which was given to you by the Dewin Mawr. We are glad at last to know what you are. You will always be welcome here, should you wish to return.”

  “Thank you,” she said, and curtsied. “You are very good.”

  “You found her!” Steffan came striding through the trees, causing the gracious beings to bow yet again. “Are you well, Miss Linley?”

  “Yes, thank you,” she said, terribly glad to see him again. “I’m only a little weary.”

  “Yes, I can see that,” he said, eyeing her critically. “And you’ve grown paler.” He turned to his cousin. “There’s not a mom
ent to lose. And Niclas is waiting anxiously.”

  “I hope he hasn’t been too worried,” Julia said.

  Kian Seymour grinned. “I’ve never seen him in such disarray, and you may believe me when I say that I’ve seen him extremely overset many a time. Having met you in a wakened state, however,” he said, looking at her with masculine appreciation, “I can understand why this is different. Never thought I’d live to see the day when fusty old cousin Niclas got struck by Cupid’s arrow, but here it is.”

  “Fusty?” Julia repeated, and opened her mouth to remonstrate, but Steffan stepped between them.

  “There’s no time for chatter. Miss Linley grows paler by the moment. Are you certain you can do this without me coming back, too, Kian?”

  “If not,” the younger man answered, “we shall simply have to try again with you on her other side. But I believe all will be well.”

  “You’re not coming back?” Julia asked.

  Steffan shook his head. “Not yet. I haven’t discovered anything about Cadmaran’s plans or whereabouts, and, as you may have learned from your time here, conversation with the guardians can take a good deal of time.”

  “The guardians?” she asked, looking at the noble creatures. “Is that what they are?”

  “Aye, and seers, as well. They see many things in our world that aren’t visible to us, and guard many things, as well. But come,” he said, and took her hand. “We must get you back to the physical realm at once. Stand here, in the very center of the trees. We will form a circle about you and lend our powers. Kian?”

  Kian moved to stand directly in front of Julia, and reached to take both her hands firmly in his.

  “You must hold on to me very tightly, Miss Linley,” he told her. “Close your eyes and concentrate on our joined hands, and believe that I will not let you go.”

  Julia nodded and did as he said. She shut her eyes and held his hands so tightly that her fingers ached and she was certain that she’d leave marks in Kian Seymour’s wrists. But he didn’t complain, and spoke to her in reassuring tones.