by Frewin Jones
Edric nodded. “Truly.”
“I’m not crazy?”
“No, you’re not crazy. Your memory has been taken away from you.”
“We cannot tarry in this benighted place, Master Chanticleer,” Rathina declared. “We have found Tania—let us be on our way! The people of Faerie need us! The balm of Gildensleep cannot last forever. Even now the sickness may be spreading.”
“I don’t have the power to get through to Faerie,” said Edric.
Anita gazed into Evan’s face.
Edric’s face.
Am I Anita Palmer? Or am I Tania Aurealis?
“This is crazy weird.” Jade sounded almost as stunned as Anita felt. “Evan Thomas from our school is really a guy called Edric from another world?” She shook her head. “I always thought there was something freaky about you!”
The shimmering sound of bells brightened the air.
“Hist! What is that?” said Rathina, staring around herself.
“Something is coming,” murmured Edric, getting to his feet.
As Anita stood up she saw that Rathina’s hand moved to her waist, as though she expected to find a weapon there. But her fingers closed on empty air.
The chime and chink of the bells grew louder and deeper until it was no longer the shimmering sound of tiny bells, but now also a plangent ringing, and finally the toll of great booming bells that shook the ground under their feet. Sweet voices mingled with the bells, adding harmonies and descant to the rising music.
A wheel of blue fire blossomed in the air, warping everything around it. It was like and yet unlike Edric’s portal—deeply blue but without the white lightning.
“Something has followed in our wake!” shouted Edric. “It’s using the trail of my charm to get into the Mortal World!”
From the heart of the wheel stepped a female figure.
The hoop of blue fire vanished, and the pealing of the bells and the singing of the voices were blotted out.
Joy filled Anita’s heart as she stared at the girl, although she had no idea why.
The girl seemed dazed. She was small and slender, clad in a gown of vibrant sky blue that echoed the light in her eyes. Her long golden hair cascaded over her shoulders, her features fine and delicate. Her chest rose and fell as she gulped in breath.
There was something so deeply familiar about her that Anita was drawn toward her. I know her. Who is she?
Rathina stumbled toward the swaying girl. She let out a cry, her voice filled with wonder and disbelief.
“Zara!”
The golden-haired girl smiled. She held her arms out. “Rathina! Sister! And Tania! I . . .”
But then her eyes glazed over and she fainted into the grass.
Part Two:
The Seekings
of the Sundered
Soul
Chapter VII
Jade’s voice was the first to break the uncanny stillness.
“I can’t take much more of this!”
Anita had an ache in her heart that made it hard to breathe. Rathina was on the ground, cradling the girl in her arms and weeping silently. Edric was staring at the girl, dumbfounded.
Anita tore her gaze away from the two girls and glanced at Edric. “I think I know her,” she murmured.
“She’s your sister Zara,” Edric said blankly. “But she died in battle against the Sorcerer King.” He looked as if he was about to pass out himself. “She shouldn’t be here. We held the Ceremony of Leavetaking. . . . Her body was sent to Albion.” He took a gasping breath. “None that pass through the gates of the Blessèd Realm ever return,” he said. “Never.”
Rathina turned her tear-streaked face to them. “She is alive!” she cried. “Her body is warm. There is breath in her lungs. She is neither spirit nor phantom. But how can this be? How, by all the fragrant stars of heaven?”
“I don’t know,” began Edric. “I’ve never . . .” A bouncing, electronic melody cut him short.
“Phone!” breathed Jade, walking unsteadily over to the lounger and stooping to pick up her trilling mobile. “Excuse me—it’s my mum—I need to answer.”
Anita looked at her friend. A phone call! In the middle of all this insanity—an honest-to-goodness everyday phone call! She didn’t know whether to be comforted by the normality of it or annoyed by the intrusion.
She snatched hold of Edric’s hand. “This is all real, isn’t it?”
“Yes. It is. The thing is—”
“No!” She stopped him. “Don’t tell me any more right now. I can’t handle any more. I feel like my head’s going to explode as it is.”
Edric smiled faintly. “That’s understandable.” He leaned forward and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek.
She stared at him, emotions tangling like barbed wire in her head.
“Yeah. Hi, Mum.” Jade’s voice wavered a little. “No. I’m fine. Why? Do I? No, everything’s cool here.” She was staring at Rathina and Zara as if her eyes were about to bug out of her head. “Oh, just sitting in the sun. Yeah. I’ll get the parasol out. Yes, I know you told me to be careful. Yes. SPF twenty and the parasol. I’ll do it right now. Quit fussing, Mum.”
Anita smiled. This was so wonderfully ordinary that she could have run and hugged Jade till her ribs creaked.
“You want I should do what? Yeah, fine. I’ll do it right now.” Her eyes widened. “You’ll be home in half an hour? Okay. Yes. Okay. Will do. Bye, Mum.”
She dropped her arm to her side. “My folks are on their way back here,” she said, speaking to no one in particular. “They want me to take the meat out of the freezer and defrost it in the microwave.” She gave a huge, vacant smile. “Apparently we’re having a barbecue this evening!” An edge of bleak sarcasm came into her voice. “Won’t that be fun?” She looked from Edric to Rathina. “Do you guys like barbecues at all? My dad does an amazing Chimichurri marinade and I can rustle up a great chili sauce. . . .” Her voice faded and she closed her eyes. “Would one of you do me a big favor and beat me over the head with a rock till I’m unconscious, please?”
“Master Chanticleer!” Rathina’s voice cut the air. “We must return to Faerie! Use your Arts. Remove us from this place!”
“I can’t take us through to Faerie,” said Edric. “I don’t have that kind of power. I wouldn’t be able to do it even if the earls of Faerie hadn’t closed the ways between the worlds.” He looked urgently at Anita. “Have you tried to step into Faerie?” His face clouded. “No! Of course you haven’t—you don’t remember anything about that, do you?”
Anita looked at him. “I want to remember,” she said forlornly. “Help me to remember.”
He put his hands to her face. “I don’t know how.”
“We cannot stay here!” declared Rathina. “We must seek some place where Zara can come to herself in safety—away from the prying eyes of ignorant Mortals.” She got to her feet, Zara’s limp form cradled in her strong arms. “We have little time, Master Chanticleer. Find us sanctuary, and find it swift.”
“I know where you can go!” Jade exclaimed. “Anita’s mum knows all about you guys! She knows about the place you come from and everything. You should go to her.”
“Is this wisdom?” asked Rathina. “To seek the dwelling of Master Clive and Mistress Mary?”
“I think it might be,” said Edric. He looked at Anita. “Is it true that your parents still remember everything about Faerie?”
Anita nodded. “Mum does, for sure. I don’t know about Dad. Jade’s right, we should go there.”
“Is it far?” asked Rathina.
“Not by cab it isn’t,” said Jade, pressing buttons on her mobile. “I’ll call a cab right now. You’ll be there in ten minutes.” She put the phone to her ear. “Yes? Oh, hi there. I need a cab. As soon as you can, please. In fact, right now would be totally excellent!”
She gave pick-up instructions then ended the call. She looked Rathina and Edric up and down. “There’s no way the driver will let you in the cab in
those wet clothes. Those wet, weird clothes.” She gestured toward Edric. “Evan—whatever your real name is—you’re pretty much the same size as my brother. I’ll find something of his for you to wear.” She turned to Rathina. “And I can probably find some loose stuff of mine that you’ll be able to squeeze into.”
She strode down the lawn toward the house. “Anita? Come on, help me out here. Do I have to do everything?”
Anita quickly caught up with her friend. “Thank you,” she said softly.
“For what?”
“For not freaking out.”
Jade gave her an incredulous look. “Don’t kid yourself, Anita. I am so freaking out here; it’s not true.” She linked her arm with Anita’s as they walked in through the open patio doors. “Thing is,” she said, “crazy as all this is—it totally explains the way you’ve been acting for the past couple of months. It’s insane, you know? But it also makes perfect sense.” She laughed breathlessly. “You’re a fairy princess. A total and utter fairy princess! That is so cool!”
“You didn’t need to come with us, Jade,” said Anita. “You should’ve stayed home.”
“What? And get chewed out for letting the lily pond get mashed? I don’t think so.” Jade retorted. She looked at Anita, lowering her voice so that the taxi driver couldn’t hear her over the piped pop music that filled the cab. “Besides, if you think you can just turn up and dump all this crazy stuff in my lap, then stroll off without any explanation, you can think again.”
They were in a taxi, heading for Anita’s home. Edric was sitting in the front passenger seat wearing a borrowed T-shirt and jeans. The four girls were crammed in the back. Rathina was in a halter top and a light cotton skirt, holding Zara’s hand, nestling the drowsy girl’s head against her shoulder. Zara’s Faerie gown was hidden under a tan suede coat. She was awake and she was able to sit up on her own, but she had a faraway look in her blue-diamond eyes and she didn’t respond when she was spoken to.
“So, what do you think about this eclipse we’re due to get on Friday?” said the driver, who had been talking nonstop since they’d gotten into the cab. “Odds are it’ll be a cloudy day and we won’t see a thing.”
“I don’t know anything about it.” Edric just managed to wedge the words in.
“You’re kidding?” replied the cabbie. “It’s been all over the news for days, mate. Longest eclipse this century, it said on the radio.”
“Really?” said Edric. “I must have missed it.”
“Where have you been? Mars?” The cabbie chuckled. “My kids can’t wait. They’ve already got their bits of cardboard with pinholes in them. That’s the safest way to look at it, apparently. What you do is . . .”
Anita tuned the cabbie out. Zara was gazing out of the window, her eyes glassy, as if she was far, far away inside her head. Anita had noticed that Zara’s lips were moving. She leaned in close to try to catch what this girl—this dead sister of hers—was saying.
But she wasn’t speaking; she was softly singing.
“I shall weave you gentle dreams between dusk and morning
I shall nestle in your heart and whisper in your ear
I shall tell you sweet tales, to soothe you till dawning
I shall tarry close, my love, you need have no fear . . .”
Rathina was also listening, her forehead wrinkled.
“What is that?” asked Anita.
“An old nursery rhyme,” said Rathina. “A lullaby our mother used to sing to us.”
I shall weave you gentle dreams . . . Why did that fragment of the lyric stick in her mind?
“’Tis a pretty tune,” said Rathina. “I have not heard it sung for many’s the long year, but Zara used to play it upon the flute.” She rested her fingers under Zara’s chin and lifted her head to look into her face. “And shall again, if the wish of my heart comes true.” She gazed into the blank eyes, then kissed the pale forehead. “I know not how this has come to be, Zara, but your return has lifted such a burden off my soul! Such a heavy burden!”
Anita looked at Rathina. There were tears in her eyes.
Why can’t I remember? I want to remember!
The cab slowed down. “Here we are: Nineteen Eddison Terrace,” said the driver. Jade fished the fare out of her jeans and they all piled out of the cab. Rathina and Anita stood on either side of Zara. She didn’t need holding up, but she seemed to have no idea where she was.
Realizing she’d left the house without any keys, Anita walked up the front steps and rang the bell.
Hi, Mum. I’m home, and I’ve brought some friends with me. You’ll never believe where they come from! Oh! Yes—you will. I’m the one who can’t believe it. . . .
The door opened. The first expression that passed across her mother’s face was relief, then she looked beyond Anita and saw the other people gathered on her porch.
She opened the door wider. “You’d better come in,” she said quickly.
Anita passed into the hallway, followed by Rathina and Zara, then Edric, and finally Jade. Mrs. Palmer closed the door. She gave Jade a resigned smile. “Hello, Jade,” she said. “Welcome to my world.”
Chapter VIII
Clive Palmer stood in the living room doorway. Anita was shocked by her father’s appearance. He looked pale and ill and he needed a shave. But his smile was the same as ever—that big sunshine smile that could always make everything right.
“Anita!” His voice was tired but happy. “Welcome home!”
She hugged him. There was an antiseptic odor on his clothes and skin—a lingering hospital smell. She wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t sure what he knew.
“Mum says you’ve been ill,” she tried. “That was silly of you!”
“I know. Trust me, eh?” He held her tightly—like a father who has not seen his daughter for a long time. “I’m on the mend now, though. They threw me out of the hospital. Didn’t want me lying around for no good reason when there were ill people needing a bed.” He drew back a little and took her face between his hands. “Your mum tells me you’ve forgotten a lot of things.”
She nodded. “I kind of have.” His eyes slid away from hers, and she saw a new look come over his face as he focused on Edric and Rathina—uneasy and a little resentful—as though he was seeing people he had hoped never to meet again. It was an odd look, and it made her uncomfortable. Did he know something about them that she didn’t?
“Greetings to you, Mistress Mary,” said Rathina, bowing a little to Anita’s mother. “And to you, Master Clive—I am glad indeed that your ailments are not so severe as Tania feared.” She shook her head. “Fate plays a strange hand, indeed! We condemned you and banished you for a crime you did not commit—and now we come seeking your aid, and hopefully your forgiveness.”
“You’re welcome to both,” said Mary Palmer. “Of course you are.”
Clive Palmer’s eyes widened. “The dream was real, then?” he said. He looked at Anita. “You came to me—a week ago—in the middle of the night. You told me the sickness in Faerie wasn’t my fault. I thought I’d dreamed the whole thing. But it seemed real. Was it real?”
“I don’t know, Dad,” said Anita. “I don’t remember.”
Mr. Palmer looked sharply at Edric. “We had nothing to do with the illness in Faerie? Is that right?”
“It is, sir,” said Edric, gazing steadily into Clive Palmer’s eyes. “And I’m sorry for the part I played in blaming you. I hope you can forgive me.”
Mr. Palmer looked away.
Rathina’s voice broke the awkward silence. “I’d lay my sweet sister down, if a bed can be found for her,” she said, her arm still around Zara’s waist. “Mayhap sleep will restore her to us more fully. She has come to us from so very far away.”
Anita’s mother looked into Zara’s blank face. “Your sister, you say, Rathina? I’ve not met her, but I’ve seen pictures of her—portraits—on the walls in the Royal Palace. Is this Zara?”
“It is,” said Rathina.
“But I thought . . . I was told she died.”
“Indeed she did, Mistress Mary, and only the wise and watchful spirits know how she has come back to us,” said Rathina. “A bed? If you please?”
“Yes. Of course.” She moved to the foot of the stairs. “Will she be able to climb the stairs?”
“I believe so.”
“Then she can lie down in Anita’s room.”
Zara turned her head from side to side, gazing into their faces but hardly seeming to see them as Rathina and Mrs. Palmer began slowly to climb the stairs, guiding her between them.
Jade was standing in the hall with her back to the front door, her arms folded, and a look on her face of bemused acceptance.
“Okay,” she said, looking from Edric to Anita’s father. “I hope you’ve noticed how well I’m handling all this craziness. But before my brain melts, I’d really like someone to bring me up to speed on what the heck is going on here.”
“Yes, we should do that,” said Edric. “Talking about it might help Tania to remember.”
“Come through into the kitchen,” said Mr. Palmer. “I don’t know about you all, but I could do with a cup of tea. A strong one.” He put his arm about Anita’s shoulders. “Come on, Anita, let’s put the kettle on.”
“And so at the last, on the far western coast of Hy Brassail, Master Connor’s duplicity was laid bare,” said Rathina. “He was revealed as the traitor in our midst; all the time he had been leading our enemy to us across those wide and strange lands.” Her face contracted in anger. “Lord Balor’s minions came upon us, and although we fought them, we were subdued. A blow to my head rendered me senseless.”
“We woke in a cave above the beach,” Edric continued. “We were tied up, but Rathina’s sword was there, and we managed to cut ourselves free. We came out of the cave, expecting to have to fight for our lives, but Balor lay dead on the beach—his body torn to ribbons.” He looked at Anita. “Connor was lying nearby. He had been knocked out. There was no sign of Tania.”
