***
After a meal of fresh fish steamed over coals in blankets of seaweed, beside the fire’s glow in the darkening twilight, Gwen barely lay down next to Aidan before she fell asleep. She awoke to the sound of huffing and stamping.
“What’s going on?” She squinted in the morning light. Large brown eyes looked down at her from above a long hairy nose. She blinked in surprise. “Where did the horses come from?”
“I called them back.” Rhiannon attached the last of the saddlebags to the nearest horse. She tossed a piece of hard bread to Gwen, who caught it in fumbling hands. “Eat up. If we make good time, we can be at the Wintertree palace by late afternoon.”
Aidan sat up next to her, his mouth open in a huge yawn. Gwen broke her bread and tucked half into his hand.
“The sergeant says to eat on the run. Come on, sleepy. Let’s get on these infernal horses.”
Aidan groaned.
“I forgot about the horses. Suddenly, I’m longing for the coracle, sea monster or no sea monster.”
It only took an hour of riding before Gwen’s bottom was as sore as her first ride, but she found she hardly minded. Her exhilaration over their triumph overshadowed the discomfort. They rode all morning, stopping only for a brief lunch of bread and fish under the sweeping awning of a riverside willow.
They crossed the border from the Longshore to the Wintertree realm early in the morning, and by midafternoon the town surrounding Faolan’s castle appeared on the horizon. Gwen’s teeth clenched at the sight.
“Do we have to go in?” she said to Aidan. “I don’t have fond memories of our previous visit, and Faolan is the last person I want to see.” She shivered with anger at the thought of Faolan’s impassive face.
“It’ll be different this time, I expect. We saved Bran’s life. And don’t forget, you’ll want to see Bran.”
“That’s true, but I wish we didn’t have to see his father as well.”
The last hour passed by very slowly. Gwen’s legs screamed at her, and her happiness at their success was tarnished by apprehension of the upcoming meeting with Faolan. Rhiannon was unperturbed as usual, and Tristan was effusive in his anticipation.
“I cannot wait for dinner. Faolan has the best cooks. Remember, Rhiannon, when we visited a few years ago and they served roast swan? That was incredible.”
“Oh, stop it, Tristan,” Aidan said. “I’m too hungry to hear about food.”
A guard stopped them at the gate.
“Your name and business here?”
“Tristan, Rhiannon, and Aidan, children of Declan, and Gwendolyn, daughter of Isolde. We’re here to speak to the king.”
The guard nodded.
“You are expected. Please, follow me.”
The guard led them through the town, a process Gwen found much less disturbing than the first time they had been dragged through. The townsfolk hardly looked at them this time, except to glance at Rhiannon’s ragged leggings.
At the massive doors of the wooden palace, the guard passed them off to a servant. Gwen stepped into the dim cool of the grand entrance. Before she could adjust to the change in light, a shout made her jump.
“Gwen! Aidan!”
Copper hair and a beaming face enveloped her in a crushing hug before Bran moved to clap Aidan on the back.
“You’re here! You made it. Hello, Tristan, Rhiannon.” Bran looked around at them, his smile so wide that Gwen feared his face would split in two. “You saved me. I can’t thank you enough. And now you’re here! This will be the best night ever.”
Bran’s cheer was infectious. Gwen found herself grinning in response, and even Rhiannon cracked a smile.
“Come on, everyone. I’ll take you to your rooms for the night.” A servant trotted up and Bran waved him away impatiently. “No, I’ll do it. I feel fine now.” He said to them, “Father insists on having me watched to make sure I’m well again. But I feel wonderful. I don’t know what was in that spell, but it worked.” He jumped to Gwen’s side and grabbed her hand with an uncharacteristically earnest look in his eye. “Gwen, I’m so sorry that Father put that bracelet on you. If I had had any say…”
“It’s okay, Bran.” Gwen patted his hand on hers. “You were out of it.”
“I know, but to think—” Bran scowled. “Trust me, I had words with him when I found out.”
Gwen laughed at the thought of anyone “having words” with Faolan. “You must be the favorite. I can’t imagine many brave enough to stand up to your father.”
Bran grinned, then ran ahead to a sweeping staircase to his right. A line of stuffed animal heads followed the curve of the stairs.
“Come on, I made sure that you four had the best rooms.”
They followed Bran up the gleaming wooden steps and emerged on the second floor. A corridor ran the length of the building, where numerous doors interrupted the hall’s paneling. The overwhelming timber of Faolan’s mansion during Gwen’s first visit had felt oppressive, but now struck her as warm and natural, like a mountain hunting lodge.
Bran opened the second door on his left with a flourish.
“Here, Gwen. You’ll be in this room.” He darted in before Gwen. She followed and stopped to blink.
The hunting lodge theme continued in this room, but it had a decidedly feminine slant. The wood paneling on the walls was of pale maple, with window frames and door lintel carved with a motif of roses. A huge bed stood foremost in the spacious room, spread with a coverlet of soft white furs that Gwen longed to touch. A chaise longue of soft almond suede, an imposing wardrobe, and a screen painted with a scene of four graceful deer completed the furnishings.
“Have a look,” Bran said. He bounded to the wardrobe and threw open the doors. “You can wear this tonight, if you like it—we can find something different if you don’t.”
In the wardrobe hung a floor-length dress, sewn from a lightweight fabric whose color shimmered between warm silver and sandy brown. Its long sleeves flowed from a fitted bodice of tan leather with a flattering neckline lined by a thin strip of rich chestnut-colored fur. Gwen gaped.
“Wow, Bran. Is everyone else going to wearing the same sort of thing?”
“Oh, for sure. Don’t you like it? We can find another one.”
“No, no, it’s beautiful.” It was lovely, but Gwen was sure she would feel out of place in the opulent gown. She sighed, then squared her shoulders and chided herself for her ingratitude. “Thanks, Bran.”
“Perfect!” Bran moved to the door and motioned the others to follow. He turned and waved at the screen. “Oh, there’s a bath back there. Someone will be by later to do your hair and take you to the feast. See you there.”
Gwen waved at Aidan as he followed Bran with an air of bemusement. Once alone, she dropped her satchel on the chaise longue with a sigh of relief. A bath after their travels and trials? That was a task she would gladly complete.
***
Gwen had started to wonder whether she should leave her room to find Aidan when a knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She swished over to open the ornate doorknob. A servant dressed in the livery of Faolan’s house bowed to her.
“I am here to direct you to dinner, my lady.”
“Thank you.” The servant moved down the hall and Gwen noticed Aidan behind him. Aidan’s eyes took her in.
“You look incredible. You wear Breenan styles as if you were born to it.”
“You don’t clean up so bad yourself.” She took his offered arm and they followed the servant down the hall. Aidan wore suede pants and a loose shirt under a vest trimmed with velvety black fur. Gwen’s heartbeat quickened at his warm herbal scent and the solid heat of his arm under hers.
“What did you do with the locket?” Aidan said. “You know Bran will want to snitch it again.”
“Oh, I know. That’s why I left it in my bag.”
They glided down the stairs and Gwen’s dress swept elegantly behind them. This, more than anything, felt like she was in a true fairy
tale. The quest, the obstacles, the sea monster—that was all too real. But waltzing down a palatial staircase in a faerie castle, dressed in a ball gown, on the arm of a handsome man? This was the dream that she would wake up from at any moment.
Servants stationed at a pair of massive double doors bowed and pushed them open wide to reveal the feast room.
“Pinch me,” she whispered to Aidan. He laughed.
“Haven’t you had enough trauma to last you a while? If this is a dream, then let’s not wake up.” He sniffed the air. “Not until we’ve eaten, at any rate.”
The hall in which they had first encountered Faolan had been transformed. Night darkened the immense windows, but thousands and thousands of dancing white lights glowed through the translucent glass like stars. They lent the scene below an ethereal air, somehow not at odds with the gleaming wood floors. Long tables were decorated with huge displays of autumnal foliage, bright gourds, and tapered candles with warm golden flames. The people of the court sported rich furs and sumptuous leathers, topped with shifting veils of fabric in burnt orange and fiery red to match the displays. Leaves drifted magically from the ceiling to give the impression of the feast taking place in a twilit autumn forest.
Faolan stood at the far end of the room, behind a long table dotted with elaborate candelabras and swags of glossy green ivy. He beckoned to Gwen and Aidan, and walked around to stand in front of the table. Gwen gulped and Aidan squeezed her arm against his side.
“Looks like we’ve been summoned.”
“I don’t think I’m brave or foolish enough to decline.” Gwen raised her chin. “Come on, let’s run this gauntlet.”
They stepped forward. Chatter in the hall quieted as they passed, and dozens of eyes burned into Gwen’s back. She kept her eyes to the front. Not at Faolan, but at the swirling lights in the window beyond him. She was still angry at Faolan and didn’t wish for any more interaction with him than was strictly necessary.
When they stopped ten paces away from Faolan and Gwen finally looked at him, he spoke.
“Aidan, son of Declan, and Gwendolyn, daughter of Isolde. You are most welcome here. You are honored guests at this banquet, the celebration of my son’s recovery from his terrible malady. As the architects of his recovery, I cannot thank you enough.” He gestured with his hand and two servants glided to him from the side of the room. Each held an angular object wrapped in a covering of soft leather. “Nevertheless, I hope you will accept these tokens of my gratitude for your part in Prince Bran’s healing. For you, Aidan, I present this instrument.” He unfolded the leather from one of the objects. Nestled inside was a flute of a strange, antique style, fashioned from dark wood with burnished golden keys. “It was my son’s idea—he mentioned your way with music.”
Aidan’s jaw dropped. He held out his hands when Faolan offered him the flute, and wrapped his fingers around it reverentially.
“It’s beautiful.”
“It was brought to this realm many centuries ago by a half-blood famed in the human world for his music. It has been kept in the treasury since then, but an instrument unplayed is an instrument wasted. May it sound sweet melodies for you.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much.” Aidan stepped back and ran his fingers up and down the length of the flute. Gwen could tell he itched to try it out.
“And for you, Gwendolyn.” Faolan unwrapped the second bundle. “A gift worthy of your mother’s daughter.”
Candlelight fell upon the object within the leather, which sparkled with a hundred refracted lights. A rose gold tiara shone, its front crowned by a glittering pendant of cut emeralds and blue sapphires that gave the appearance of delicate blue flowers surrounded by deep green leaves. Gwen gasped.
“That’s for me?”
“Indeed.” Faolan tilted his head as if evaluating her reaction. “You may have need of it one day.” Before Gwen could ask what he meant, Faolan held the tiara out to her.
“You have saved my son’s life, and brought peace to the Velvet Woods and the Nine Realms. Please accept this gift.”
She traced the precious stones with her finger, marveling. Then she frowned.
“Thank you very much. I’m grateful. But I still think it was unjust of you to put the bracelet on me.”
Aidan stiffened beside her, but Gwen was undeterred. It needed to be said. She had a feeling that Faolan wouldn’t do anything to them, not with Bran watching.
Faolan’s expression did not change, but he said, “It was the action of a distraught father, in fear for his son’s life. It was not just, but we are all fortunate that you have a strength in you to prevail against all odds.” He spread his left arm toward a nearby table. “Please, sit and enjoy the feast.”
Gwen nodded and they turned to the table. That was as close to an apology as she was likely to get from Faolan. She fingered the tiara in its leather, wondering. It was beautiful, and probably worth more than she could imagine, but what would she do with it? And why might she need it some day?
She put her questions aside when she spotted Tristan, Rhiannon, and Bran seated at a small table below the head table. Bran waved them over.
“Father wanted us at the head table, but it’s far too stuffy up there. I thought it’d be more fun if we had our own table.”
“I’m starting to get the feeling that whatever Bran wants, Bran gets,” Gwen said. Bran laughed.
“It’s hard being me sometimes, but I manage.”
Bran was in high form. He entertained them with stories of recent exploits and pranks played on his elder brothers, and kept them laughing throughout course after course of exotic dishes with spices Gwen had never tasted before. Even Rhiannon sputtered out her soup laughing at one of Bran’s tales.
Eventually the talk came around to Bran’s mishap in the human world.
“I had no idea you were so far away, Gwen.” Bran picked a fig up from a platter of dried fruits and popped it in his mouth. Through his chewing he said, “Is the human world larger than this one?”
“Don’t be silly, Bran,” Rhiannon said. “No one here has traveled far enough into the western ocean, that’s all.”
“Well, the human world was fun while I was there.” Bran gazed reflectively into his goblet. “Whatever happened to the locket, Gwen?”
Gwen shot a half-glance at Aidan, who raised an eyebrow. She said, “I used it as a token to heal Isolde’s realm in the restoration spell. It was destroyed by the magic.”
Rhiannon looked surprised, but said nothing. Gwen had handed back Tristan’s intact tracker ring as soon as they had met up with her on the island. Tristan, eyeing a pretty Breenan girl at the next table, didn’t appear to hear.
Gwen figured it would be safer for Bran if he didn’t try to steal the locket from her again. She didn’t want to go through another deadly obstacle course the next time he tried his luck in her world.
“Pity,” Bran said with a sigh. “There was so much I hadn’t yet explored.”
Chapter 15
Gwen had a hard time waking up in the morning. They had gone to bed just before the full moon set below the horizon, surrounded by dancing lights in the hall’s windows. The late morning sun poured in through her open curtains, highlighting rich ambers and chestnuts of furs strewn across her floor.
Eventually, she made herself roll out of bed and get dressed. She tucked her new treasure in its leather envelope into her satchel after peeking inside to make sure it was still real. An emerald gleam convinced her it was.
She peered her head out the door, wondering where to go. A passing servant immediately came to her aid.
“You will find your party at the stable entrance, my lady. Down the stairs and to your right.”
Was everyone waiting for her? Gwen ran down the steps. A narrow hallway to her right led to an open door, through which jangling of reins and huffing of horses filtered. Gwen burst through into a vast, cavernous stable, with at least fifty stalls for horses on either side of a wide corridor that led to an outside door
. The dusty scent of hay and warm horse drifted past her nostrils.
Tristan and Rhiannon saddled horses in front of her while Bran attached full saddlebags. Aidan leaned against the nearest wall and crunched an apple. A nearby horse watched him enviously.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” He offered her an apple. “Hungry?”
“I never thought I’d be hungry again after that meal, but yeah, actually, I am.” She bit into the green skin. “Thanks.”
Tristan patted his horse’s flank.
“Since we’re all here and accounted for, finally,” he winked at Gwen. “We might as well push off. Good to see you, Bran. Don’t be a stranger.”
“Oh, I won’t. Father wants me to start border patrols. It will probably be a bore, but I’ll pass your way soon, I don’t doubt.” He swung around to face Gwen and Aidan. “As for you two, you had better visit. Especially since I can’t come say hello to you anymore.” He looked so abnormally woeful that Gwen couldn’t help but laugh.
“How could I refuse that face? We will try to visit again someday.” She hugged him, and Aidan and Bran exchanged a Breenan farewell, with hands clasped to each other’s heads and foreheads touching.
“I’ll see you soon, cousin,” Bran said to Aidan. “Make sure of it.”
“We’ll make it happen,” Aidan said. He turned to look at his horse, and sighed. “Back in the saddle. I’ll never complain about the bus again.”
Whether from good company, or a short journey, Gwen was surprised when Declan’s cottage came into view across a meadow. Dry grasses waved in the warm breeze of the hot noon sun. A child playing outside noticed them first, and shouted into the house before he ran through the grass to them. Tristan bent down and swung the boy up to sit in front of him. The child shrieked and giggled.
More children poured out from the open doorway and from behind the cottage. Declan appeared from inside and shaded his eyes. Once satisfied of their identity, he strode forward with open arms.
“Welcome back! Prince Crevan sent word when you set off to Isle Caengal, telling us of your quest.” Tristan and Rhiannon leaped off their horses and Declan hugged them swiftly. Aidan slid off his saddle more slowly and stayed by his horse, fidgeting.
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