by Frewin Jones
“Yes, that’s a good idea.” Tania looked again at Connor. “I should go and talk to him,” she said. “He must be feeling . . .” But she couldn’t think of words to express how Connor must be feeling. Embarrassed? Devastated? His revelation certainly made her feel desperately awkward.
She walked over to him, crouching and resting her hand on his bent shoulder.
“How are you doing?” she asked as gently as she could.
He looked up at her. “Pathetic,” he said.
She gave the hint of a smile. “I think you’re being a bit harsh on yourself,” she said. He didn’t respond. “Connor? We’re friends, aren’t we? We agreed.”
“I lied.”
“I don’t feel . . . that way about you.” She sighed. “Okay, for a few moments back in the tavern—you know when I mean—I kidded myself that maybe I could feel like that. But it wasn’t real.” Her voice became firm. “No matter what happens between me and Edric, this thing between you and me—it’s never going to happen.” He lifted his head, his eyes liquid and sad. “I need to know you understand.”
He swallowed. “Okay . . .” he said, his voice almost inaudible. “Just friends.”
“That’s right.” Tania sighed and glanced around. Rathina was with the horses; Edric had moved to the forest path and was staring into the darkness. “Maybe you should go now. Seriously. Just let me take you home, Connor. Back to a world that makes sense to you. Back to premed and a high-flying career as one of the UK’s top surgeons or whatever it was you had planned before all this happened.”
He gave a hollow laugh. “That’s funny,” he said. “That’s really funny.”
“Why?”
“Because I was failing,” he said. “I was no good at it. It was too hard. That evening—the evening you turned up out of nowhere—I had finally decided to give it all up. Being a doctor was my dad’s ambition for me; he’s the one who pushed me to go for it. I’ve known for six months I’d never cut it. I was going to drop out of premed, Anita!”
She stared at him, not bothering to correct his use of her name. “You never said . . .”
“It’s not the kind of thing that comes up in casual conversation,” he said with a trace of bitterness. “I’d done a good job of keeping the truth hidden from everyone. No one knows about it. I was going to drop it on my folks that weekend—the weekend after you suddenly turned up. And then there you are . . . and . . . and . . .” He snorted. “Did you never once wonder why I was so totally up for all this?” He gestured to encompass the alien night. “One day I’m so sick of everything that I’m thinking of emptying out my savings and going AWOL for a year—the next I’m being invited to come away to a whole new world. Did it never strike you as odd that I leaped at the chance?”
“I thought it was just you being . . . impulsive.”
“No.” His eyes burned into hers. “It was you, saving me from . . . from . . . everything. Suddenly I wasn’t this dismal failure anymore—I was a hero. I was in the middle of a totally unbelievable adventure. And on top of that there was the chance that I could stroll back home at some point with the secret of Immortality in my back pocket!”
“I never knew . . .”
“You weren’t supposed to.”
“Oh . . . Connor. . . .” It was disturbing to realize she had been deceived. How do you trust someone who’s that good at covering up? And the medical stuff had seemed to come so naturally to him. Was he really the dismal failure he wanted her to think? Or was this just another excuse to stay with her . . . in the hope that . . . maybe . . . somehow . . . ?
Whatever was going on, she couldn’t bring herself to force him to return to London. And maybe if he saw this quest through, he would feel less of a loser when he did get home.
She looked keenly into his face. “I won’t make you go back,” she said. “But the thing between you and Edric—that has got to stop. Right?”
Connor nodded. Then he lifted his head and sniffed. “Can you smell that?” he asked.
“What?” She sniffed, too. Yes—there was an odd smell on the air. Looking over her shoulder, she saw that Rathina and Edric were also alert, staring around themselves as the smell wafted through the trees. “I know it . . . but I can’t place it.” Tania stood up. “What is it?”
Connor also got to his feet. “Well, weird as this is going to sound, it’s the same electric smell you get at . . . fairgrounds! With bumper cars.”
“Yes. You’re right.”
The horses began to whinny and toss their heads, their hooves stamping uneasily, so that Rathina had trouble keeping control of the three sets of reins in her hands.
A soft droning sound filled the air, and Tania saw small points of light moving purposefully through the trees, blinking in and out as they glided behind the trunks and branches.
And then, in a moment, Tania and Connor were surrounded by a swarm of tiny red flames, hovering and dancing all around them.
“They’re insects.” Connor gasped, his face ruddy from the light. “Like . . . like fireflies . . . but actually on fire.” He reached out a hand then drew it back with a shout as one of the creatures touched his fingers.
Another of them brushed the back of Tania’s hand. “Ow!” She snatched her hand away. “They burn!”
“Let us away from here!” shouted Rathina. “The horses are fit to bolt!”
Connor and Tania ran back, the fiery insects all around them. The droning was laced now with a spitting, crackling sound, like wet logs catching fire. And each of the insects trailed a thread of blue smoke, so that their flight left pale ribbons drifting in the air.
The horses were seriously alarmed now, their eyes rolling, their ears back as the burning flies gathered around them. Tania’s horse reared, hooves striking so she had to duck aside to avoid them. The horse dropped onto all fours again, pulling away, dragging her along. She leaped for the horse’s back, just managing to clutch hold of the saddle. Her feet left the ground and her arms were wrenched painfully. But then another horse came up close behind her, and a hand grabbed her and heaved her upward. She managed to get her leg over the animal’s back and crash into the saddle. She turned—seeing Connor’s face right behind her. “Thanks!”
“Don’t mention it. Let’s get out of here!”
Edric and Rathina were also in their saddles now, surrounded by the thronging insects. Tania kicked hard at her horse’s flanks, jerking the reins to turn the frightened animal’s head toward the forest road.
“Go!” she shouted, ducking and twisting to avoid the fierce little flames. “Go!”
Her horse leaped forward under the branches, earth flying high from its hooves as it sped away from the riverbank.
“What were those things?” Connor asked as they rode at a steady pace under the endless trees.
“I think we just saw the first example of a land where magic has run wild,” said Edric. He turned in the saddle and peered away under the tunnel of branches. “We outran them, thankfully.” He sucked his wrist where one of the creatures had burned him. “It could have been worse.”
“I trust this is not a sign of the welcome we are to encounter throughout Erin,” said Rathina. “If flies can cause such consternation, what of greater beasts?”
Tania could still smell a faint tang of scorching on the air where the fireflies had singed their clothing. But Edric was right: It could have been a whole lot worse. Without horses the four of them could have been inundated by the burning insects, and then what? Burned alive?
The roadway led through the forest, the trees arching over them to form a roof; but now and then they would come to a place where the branches drew back, and then they could see the stars in the black velvet sky. They were the same stars and constellations that made their stately way across the Faerie sky—except that the night sky here was also streaked over and over again by shooting stars trailing silvery tails as they curved across the heavens, burning briefly before fading away.
Tania turned to Rathina.
“Can you tell what part of the night this is?” she asked. She had lost track of the time, but she had the feeling they must have been following this roadway for several hours.
Rathina frowned. “I cannot, sister,” she said, “and that vexes me. I know the stars, and I have oft times watched their progress across the night. But these stars do not move. I have observed for some time now; here, by my troth, ’tis always the middle of the night—as though we have come to a land caught and suspended in the place where one day ends and another begins.”
“You mean it might be night all the time here?” asked Connor. “I mean—forever?”
“Anything is possible where an enchantress is in control,” said Edric. “But how are we going to find our way through Erin if the stars never move and there is no sun? How will we know which direction we’re heading?”
There was a worried silence, punctured by Connor, speaking in a soft voice. “I bet you wish you hadn’t chucked that compass away now.”
“Indeed, Connor,” murmured Rathina. “Maybe we acted in haste.” Her eyes shone darkly as she looked at Tania. “Mayhap it was ordained by the fates that we would need such a device to fulfill our quest. Maybe it was good spirits that compelled Connor to take it from the Hall of Archives.”
Tania looked at her. “Are you suggesting we go back to try and fish it out of the river?” she asked abruptly. “Bearing in mind what Lord Cillian told us about the water?”
“No, I am not suggesting that,” Rathina said, her voice subdued. “’Twould be pure madness to do so. But it may be that our choices are not so clear as we thought hereto. Perhaps more prudence is called for ere we condemn any of our number for perceived transgressions.”
Tania didn’t reply. What if Rathina was right? What if Connor was meant to have taken that compass? Not by Oberon, necessarily, but by some other benevolent power?
“Let us hope that this land offers more hope to the traveler than we have seen thus far,” Rathina remarked. “Elsewise our quest may be marred by . . .” She stopped, sitting suddenly erect in the saddle. “Do you hear that?” she whispered.
Chapter Twenty Five
Voices! Voices in the trees!
They brought their horses to a halt, all of them listening intently, staring through the dark forest, trying to pinpoint the direction from which the voices were coming.
So many different voices. Young voices and old. Happy and sad. Weeping voices and laughing voices. The voices of men and women and of children, too. Sometimes only a word or two could be picked up in the chorus—and sometimes entire phrases soared on the air.
. . . voices in the village street, smiling faces that you meet, dancing eyes and dancing feet, wonder all can share . . .
. . . the sharp winds of winter cut through to the bone . . .
. . . did we dance in the fire . . . ?
. . . fate moves a fickle finger in palaces of the moon, reflections on white water, that echo fluted tunes . . .
. . . the loss of love is such a sad, sad thing . . .
“Who are they?” shouted Connor, his eyes wide. “Who are all these people?”
“Phantoms, maybe!” called Rathina. “Chimera. Wraiths of the night. We should not listen.”
“She’s right,” said Edric. “Don’t listen to them!”
A new voice called from under the branches. An impossibly familiar voice. The voice of a dead princess, calling plaintively.
Tania-a-a-a-a . . .
Tania stiffened. “Zara, is that you?”
Ta-a-a-ania-a-a-a . . .
Tania urged her horse sideways off the road, heading toward the voice, seeing her lost sister in her mind: the wide blue eyes and the curling golden hair, her small slender figure and her sunshine smile . . .
“No! Tania, no!”
“But it’s Zara . . . She’s calling to me . . .”
“Zara is not here!” shouted Rathina.
“She is! She is!” Tears of joy were pricking in Tania’s eyes as she stared into the beguiling darkness under the trees. “Zara, I’m coming!”
Come . . . come . . .
“Yes!”
“No!” It was Edric, suddenly close behind Tania. He leaned from the saddle and caught her arm. “Don’t go in there!”
“I must!” She tried to shake his fingers loose, but his grip held her tight. “She needs me. Oh god, can’t you hear her calling?”
“It’s not Zara!” Edric cried.
“We have to get out of here!” shouted Connor.
And now all the voices were crying out in unison.
COME . . . COME . . .
Tania fought to get free of Edric. Couldn’t he hear Zara calling for her? Didn’t he realize she had to go to her sister? She sounded so lost, so alone. What was wrong with him? With all of them?
“Let . . . me . . . go!” she snarled, struggling to get her hand to her sword hilt. If he wouldn’t release her, she’d have to cut his hand off. If he held her back from her sister, she’d plunge the blade into his heart. Nothing mattered more than getting to Zara. Nothing!
Rathina rode up to her side.
“Rathina!” Tania was desperate. “Help me!”
“Forgive me, Tania.” Rathina leaned toward her, one arm raised. Her hand came slicing through the air, striking Tania hard across her face.
The pain was shocking, driving tears from her eyes.
“Now, Captain Chanticleer. Get her away from here!”
While Tania was still stunned from Rathina’s blow, Edric lunged and dragged her from the saddle.
“No! No! No!”
She gasped as Edric hauled her across his saddle-bow, the breath beaten out of her. She hung gaping across his horse’s back, held down by Edric’s arm. He let out a yell and kicked the horse to a gallop, and suddenly all was wind and noise and violent movement . . .
. . . and bright, shimmering sunlight.
The voices had fallen silent. Edric reined his horse up. Hurt and angry, Tania squirmed down from the high ridge of the horse’s back. She lost her footing and stumbled, falling into tall grass, smelling meadowsweet all around her, blinking in the sudden light.
They were a little way beyond the eaves of the forest, and it was noon. Dazzled and bewildered, Tania stared into the clear blue sky. Yes! The sun was at its apex, a burning ball of white, too bright to look at.
She staggered to her feet. Rathina and Connor were close by, their horses brought to a halt, their faces amazed as they stared around themselves. Rathina also held the reins of Tania’s horse.
Connor was the first to break the silence, and he sounded as astonished as they all looked. “What just happened?”
“I think we have the answer to the question of day and night in Erin,” Rathina said, leaning on her saddlebow, her eyes narrowed against the sunlight.
“But it’s the middle of the day,” Connor said. “How’s that . . . ?” He stopped, his shoulders slumping. “I give up,” he said. “I totally give up!”
Edric jumped from the saddle and stood in front of Tania. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she gasped, her hand to her mouth. She stared into the darkness under the trees. The forest stretched into a blue haze in both directions. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” She stared at him. “I thought . . . I heard . . .”
“You thought Zara called to you,” said Rathina.
“Yes. Yes, exactly. I was sure it was her . . . totally certain. . . .”
Rathina arched an eyebrow. “And I wonder what would have happened to you, sweet sister, had you gone in under those trees. Nothing good, that is for sure.”
“It wasn’t Zara,” Tania said. “Why did I think it was her?”
“It was an enchantment put on you to prevent you from ever leaving the forest,” said Edric.
“And it would have worked if you hadn’t stopped me,” Tania said, horrified to think she had come so close to abandoning the quest. “Thank you.” She put her hand to her cheek, still stinging from Rathi
na’s blow. “Thank you both.”
Connor twisted in the saddle and glowered at the forest. “Is it still night in there, do you think?” he asked. “Is that how this place works? Perpetual midnight in the forest, midday everywhere else?”
“I’d not go back to test that theory, Connor,” said Rathina. “Neither should you.”
“Don’t worry,” Connor said. “I wasn’t planning to.” He squinted into the sky. “But I’d guess we’re stuck with the same problem we had before. How do we know which direction to go in if the sun never moves and we don’t have a compass anymore?”
Tania turned to Edric, looking into his eyes. He lifted his hand to lightly cradle her cheek.
“That was quite a whack Rathina gave you,” he said softly.
She smiled, resting her own hand over his, trembling at his touch. “She doesn’t mess around,” she said. He took his hand from her face, threading his fingers with hers, leaning close and quickly kissing her cheek.
She reluctantly drew back. Part of her was desperate for this closeness, but she feared that if she let herself slip into Edric’s arms, she would never want to let go again. And she really wasn’t ready to allow herself to be that vulnerable. Not while he had all that bad magic inside him. Not with Coriceil’s warning still ringing in her head. And not with Connor only a few yards away, pretending he wasn’t watching them.
Untwining her fingers from his, she turned and walked toward her horse. She climbed into the saddle, gazing at the new landscape that surrounded them.
At their backs the dark forest stretched from horizon to horizon, but ahead of them the land spread out like a rumpled quilt, all hills and sudden valleys, and copses and woods that rippled away in a golden haze of warm summer sunlight.
The horizon was odd, though. Purple and mauve mountains curved on the edge of sight, but although they looked solid when Tania stared straight at them, she found that if she looked away and then back again, the distant outlines had changed—as if the mountains were in a constant state of unrest, flowing into one another, changing, mutating, only to become stable again when she fixed her eyes on them.
