by Frewin Jones
“Again with not getting the point!” said Jade. “I’m not saying I’m not enjoying being here. I am; it rocks my socks! But for me it’s like being on holiday—and I’m having a great time. But for you it’s like this is the place you were always meant to be.” She sat up, warming to her theme. “How long have we known each other? Ten years? Thereabouts, for sure. And there’s always been this thing with you.”
Tania stared at her. “What thing?”
“Always wanting to be someplace other than where you are,” said Jade. “When you’re at school, you want to be home. When you’re home, you want to be out shopping in the market. When you’re there, you want to be somewhere else. It’s always been like you’re never happy anyplace at all. My mum used to say you have itchy feet—you know, never able to stay still in one place for more than five minutes.” Jade spread her arms in an encompassing gesture. “This is why!” she said. “All this is what you wanted! All your life you’ve missed this place and you never even knew it.”
Tania blinked at her. “Oh.” Jade was right—she’d always had that kind of restlessness. That was why her parents had suggested she might want to travel before going to college. That was why the life of an investigative journalist might suit her: always on the hunt for something new, always looking for hidden things.
Jade lay back again, pulling the covers up to her chin. “Me—I’m just totally ticked off I didn’t bring my digital camera.” She put her hands behind her head. “Except even if I showed people pictures of this place, they’d still think I’d put them together in Photoshop. I guess there’s only one way to really believe in this wacky place—and that’s to visit.” She gave Tania a sideways look. “It’s a shame about those barriers the earls put up—we could have made a fortune!”
Tania frowned. “Excuse me?”
“I can see it now,” said Jade with a wide smile. “‘Faerie Tours! Been everywhere? Seen everything? I don’t think so! We offer exclusive luxury tours of a whole other world! Special family rates. Money back if not one hundred percent satisfied.’”
“Jade?” said Tania, licking her fingers and reaching out to snuff the candle. “That is a truly terrible idea!”
Jade sighed in the sudden, deep darkness. “I guess so,” she said. “Will you promise me one thing?”
“If I can.”
“Promise when I go back, when I go home . . .” Jade’s voice was suddenly quite serious. “Promise me you won’t let my mind get wiped, like the thing that happened with Connor. I know I’ll never be able to talk about this place—but I don’t want to forget it, either. Is that a deal?”
Tania looked at her friend. How could she make such a promise? She had not been responsible for Connor’s lost two weeks. And her own mind had been wiped and her Faerie self erased for a time. She had no control over what might happen.
And yet she couldn’t bear to leave Jade swinging in the wind like that.
“If I can, I will,” she said, turning over and drawing the covers up to her ears. “And that’s a promise.”
It was night. There were no stars. In her dream Tania was on the same lofty rooftop where she had stood with Edric that afternoon. Except that Edric was not there and she felt abandoned and horribly alone.
The Dolorous Tower was lit by an eerie, ghastly light, like moonlight but all wrong—like the kind of unhealthy light given off by rotting things, a foul and sickening glow that made her stomach turn. Birds were still swarming on its rooftop and flying circles around its upper levels, crying out in ghastly and forlorn voices. Or at least they seemed to be birds—except that there was something not quite right about them.
Then Tania saw what was wrong. She saw it because suddenly the tower was much closer—as though she had gone to it or it had come hurtling toward her. The birds were all dead. Flying but dead—their feathers rotting and matted with blood, the bones jutting from their plumage, their eyes empty, their voices spectral and horrible.
The crown of the Dolorous Tower was haunted by flocks of dead birds.
Horrible! Horrible! Tania tried to scream, but she had no breath.
A force hurled her through the air toward the birds. The birds surrounded her, squawking and fluttering, their loose feathers darkening the air. She threw her arms over her head as she saw the shuttered window of the tower hurtling toward her.
She smashed through and found herself in a place she knew. . . .
She had been here once before—not in her dreams but in reality. She was standing on a high gallery overlooking a huge hall made entirely of angled slabs of shining black stone.
“The Obsidian Chamber,” she mouthed silently. “In Caer Liel, in Weir . . .”
Torches lined the walls, and the angled stone threw the uneasy light back and forth so that it was almost impossible to tell what was real flame and what was reflection. The center of the room was dominated by a huge throne made of black stone. A man sat on the throne, wrapped in a cloak of black fur.
Lord Aldritch. Tania recognized him in a heartbeat. But a second man knelt before him, doing homage.
Lord Aldritch extended his hand, and the other man lifted his head to kiss the black rings on the wasted old fingers.
The person doing obeisance to the lord of Weir was Edric. No, please no. Not Edric.
His voice echoed through the great black hall. “My liege lord—I am eternally your obedient servant.”
Aldritch rested his long hand on Edric’s head. “Like a son you shall be to me,” he said. “A fitting replacement for the child I lost—my poor Gabriel, destroyed by the half-thing Tania Aurealis!” Aldritch raised his head and his dark, dreadful eyes fixed on Tania. His voice boomed in her head. “You shall be the instrument of her doom,” he cried. “A sword in the heart shall be your gift to her, Edric of Weir—and together we shall drink of her blood!”
Chapter XXII
Tania awoke with a start.
She opened her eyes to streaming early-morning sunlight and to Jade, barefoot on the polished wooden floorboards near the window, doing her tai chi exercises.
The whole thing had been a nightmare.
Tania sat up, the terrible darkness seeping out of her mind.
“Awake at last, huh?” said Jade.
“Been up long?” Tania asked, knuckling her eyes.
“A while.” Jade continued the elegant, slow-motion actions—her body lithe and fluid as she moved. “Has anyone told you that you snore?”
“No.”
“Really. Not even Edric?”
“No!” Tania stretched, choosing to ignore the implications of that mischievous question. “I had a bad dream is all,” she said. She looked quizzically at Jade. Her friend seldom spoke of her tai chi classes—too many people had made fun in the past of her slo-mo “old people” exercises. “Do all those movements have names?” she asked.
“Each and every one of them,” Jade said. “This is called Wild Horse Shakes Its Mane.” She made a long, slow step forward, her hands with the fingers pointing, arms flowing one over the other as she glided through the early-morning light.
“Pretty,” Tania said, getting out of bed. “But don’t you ever feel like cutting loose and doing something fast?”
Without any warning Jade threw herself through the air, her extended fingers slicing past Tania’s throat. Startled, Tania sat back suddenly on the bed.
“That little move is known as Scooping the Moon from the Sea Bottom,” Jade said with a grin. “And if I’d had a sword in my hand, your throat would be cut now from ear to ear. Don’t talk to me about speed—I can do stuff so fast that you wouldn’t believe it!”
“You know how to fight with a sword?”
“You bet I do—and I’m way good at it, too!”
Tania grinned, quickly recovering from Jade’s surprise attack. “I thought karate was the one that did all the damage.”
“Don’t you believe it—just because tai chi is a soft martial art, don’t assume it isn’t dangerous.”
“You should show some of your best moves to Rathina,” said Tania. “I think she’d love them!” She stood up again and made for the large wardrobe. “Meanwhile, I’m going to get dressed and find some breakfast.” She opened the wardrobe door to reveal rows of full-length gowns. “Anything in here you like the look of?”
Jade’s eyes widened. “You bet!” she said. “I hope they fit.”
“They fit me, so they should fit you,” said Tania, standing aside as her friend began to rummage among the colored gowns. “Come on, let’s get ourselves kitted out.”
Jade drew out a flowing dress of green satin with gold and black embroidery at the low neck and around the ends of the sleeves and the wide, ankle-length hem. “I am going to so knock ’em dead in this!” Jade gasped.
Tania chose a simple dress of lilac and lavender. It reminded her of the dress she had worn the first time she had stepped into the Mortal World. She’d wear it in remembrance of her other self, the princess who had stepped out of Faerie on the eve of her sixteenth birthday and died in the Mortal World.
Tania was glad to leave the room; the last remnants of her nightmare lingered still among the tumbled bedclothes.
Tania and Jade breakfasted on a wide sunlit veranda. Marble steps led down to the maze, a triangular network of neatly tended hedges with a glorious fountain at its secret heart. A few other people of the court sat at nearby tables. Children were playing around the maze, some running, their wings rippling in the air—others flying in and out of the entrances and over the hedges, laughing and shouting.
Jade watched the flying children with her mouth half open in astonished delight.
“We played in the maze all the time when I was a child,” Tania said, her heart filling as she gazed out over the narrow files of hedges. “Zara and Rathina and Cordelia . . . and me.” She looked at Jade. And now Cordelia and Zara are dead, and Rathina is half broken by grief. “I used to cheat.” She sighed, full of bittersweet memories. “The rules were you weren’t allowed to fly once you were inside—but I’d flit up over the hedges so I got to the fountain first.”
Jade looked at her. “It must be hard to lose your wings when you grow up.”
“Not so hard as not remembering you ever had them,” Tania said. She saw Rathina step out through the wide glass doors. She joined them at the table.
“I was remembering playing in the maze,” Tania said to her sister.
“Innocent times, indeed,” said Rathina, sipping from a glass of Faerie cordial. “Childhood days, all lost and gone.”
Tania smiled sadly. “I’d like it if we could get together sometime soon,” she said. “All of us—Eden, Hopie, Sancha. You and me. I’d like to talk about those times. Now that I remember them.”
Rathina nodded. “We should do that. We should find a time and gather together in the princesses’ gallery and speak of happy times before the Great Twilight, before . . .” Tania could have finished the sentence. Before I got lost in the Mortal World, before Titania followed me . . . before the Sorcerer King was set loose . . . before Zara died, before Lear came . . .
“But such reminiscences must wait upon other duties,” said Rathina. “We have much to do, Tania. Master Raphael has allocated tasks to all of us in preparation for the festival of the Pure Eclipse.” Her eyes glowed. “And I believe you have a most especial role to play.”
“Do I?” asked Tania. “Such as what?”
“Master Raphael will speak to you of it, no doubt, when the time is right,” said Rathina.
“And what do I get to do?” asked Jade.
“You are our guest, Mistress Jade,” said Rathina. “Take your ease—gaze upon the marvels of Faerie. Amuse yourself in whatever ways you wish.”
Jade looked sideways at her. “Have you ever heard of tai chi, Rathina?” she asked.
“I have not.”
Jade smiled. “It’s a martial arts discipline.”
Rathina gave her a puzzled look.
“A kind of fighting technique,” Jade said. “Tania said you might like it. I’ll show you a few nifty moves when you have the time. You’ll love it!”
“Thank you,” said Rathina. “I shall look forward to that.”
“Have you seen Edric?” Tania asked her sister. “I thought he might be here.”
“I believe he is in our father’s Privy Chamber, along with others of the King’s council.”
Tania frowned, wondering what such an early meeting might mean. “They called for him?”
“I think not,” Rathina explained. “I believe that Master Chanticleer asked to meet with them.”
Odd. Why should he do that?
But before Tania could ask more, the air was full of the high call of trumpets.
Rathina’s eyes lit up. “They come,” she said, getting to her feet. “Most excellent!”
“Who comes?” asked Tania.
“The cavalcade from Veraglad,” Rathina said. “Come—let us greet them. It will be a delight indeed to welcome Uncle Cornelius and Aunt Lucina and Titus and Corin into our midst. And Eden and Hopie will be most pleased to be reunited with the earl Valentyne and Lord Brython, I have no doubt.”
“Hey—who’s the boy with the black hair and the cheekbones?” murmured Jade as the procession of riders passed through the cheering crowds that lined the bridge.
Tania saw whom she meant: a tall, black-haired young man riding with the earl marshall Cornelius and his wife. “That’s Titus,” she told her friend. “He’s one of twins, but I can’t see Corin anywhere.”
“Twins?” breathed Jade. “You mean, there are two of them? Oh, be still, my fluttering heart!”
“Jade! Behave yourself,” said Tania with a laugh.
A long procession of riders came across the bridge that carried the southern forest road into the Royal Palace. Tania noticed that a few had pale scars or blemishes on their faces; people who had drawn back from the brink of death, but who would carry forever the signs of the deadly plague. As was the case with most Faerie folk, the faces of all those coming into the palace showed mixed emotions: gladness and relief that the dread was gone but also the shadow of recent grief over what had been lost.
“Titus is the son of my uncle Cornelius and his wife,” Tania said. “Well, he’s Lucina’s son, but Cornelius’s stepson—her first husband died in a fall from his horse.”
Jade frowned. “I thought these people were all Immortal.”
“We are . . . were, I mean,” Tania explained. “But Immortal doesn’t mean invulnerable. Accidents still happen.”
“But not illness?”
“Right.”
“No measles or head colds or heart attacks?”
Tania shook her head.
“And when they get to a certain age, they stop looking any older, is that right?”
“Yes—but I’m not really sure exactly what age that is.”
Jade pointed to Titus. “But he’s going to stay that handsome and hot forever, right?”
“Probably. Once the covenant has been renewed.”
Jade grinned. “So, when do I get to meet him?”
Tania laughed. “Later,” she said. “Meanwhile, let me point out some other people you’ll want to know.” She nodded toward an ancient, wizened man riding a sturdy bay mare. “That’s Earl Valentyne,” she told Jade. “He’s Eden’s husband.”
Jade’s eyes widened. “Eww! I guess she goes for older men,” she murmured. “But how come he looks like that? Did the Immortal thing not take with him?”
“He was already old when the covenant was agreed,” said Tania. “I’ve told you this stuff already. Oh!” She gestured toward a large dark-haired and bearded man clad in the curious armor of Faerie: ivory white on the outside and with a mother-of-pearl inner sheen so that it looked as though it had been fashioned from seashells. “That’s Lord Brython—Hopie’s husband.”
“Hmmm. Hunky,” mused Jade. “No—I still like Titus best.”
“Will you quit it with the lusting?” Ta
nia laughed.
“It’s okay for you—you’ve got Edric,” said Jade. “You can’t blame a girl for thinking of her future.” She gave Tania a wicked little look. “You know how Titania got made Immortal when she married the King . . . uh . . . does that kind of thing happen a lot around here? Mortals becoming Immortal, I mean?”
“Hardly ever, so don’t think of trying to make out with Titus so you get to live forever.”
Jade grinned widely. “Oh, please—like I need an excuse to hit on someone who looks like him!” She raised an eyebrow. “You said there’s going to be some kind of feast tonight, yes? A real friend would work it so I got to sit next to Titus. What do you say, Tania? Pretty please?”
“You’re incorrigible, Jade!”
“But look at him, Tania—I think I’m in love!”
“You be really careful with saying stuff like that,” said Tania, not quite joking any longer. “Love is forever around here.” She looked over to where Rathina stood with Sancha and the Queen. “And that’s not always as much fun as it might sound.”
A few hours later, after the meeting and greeting of the party from Veraglad was done, Tania began to wonder where Edric could be. The meeting with Oberon and his council had been over for some time—but Edric still hadn’t come to find her.
She left Jade with Rathina—her sister had agreed to take Jade on a tour of the bedchambers of the other princesses to show her the wonders and marvels that existed within their enchanted walls.
Tania finally tracked Edric down in the gardens. He was sitting on the wall of a small stone bridge that spanned a narrow brook of still green water. The bridge led to an ornate wooden gate in a hedge cut and shaped to resemble prancing horses. Beyond the gate Tania could see gently sloping parklands.
He turned his head at the crunch of her approach on the yellow pathway. He slid down off the parapet to stand waiting for her at the apex of the bridge. There was something not quite right about his smile.
“There you are!” Tania called, refusing to acknowledge the unease in his face. If she couldn’t see it, maybe it would go away. “I’ve been looking for you all over!”
