by Aderyn Wood
Dale’s eyes widened. “Ricardo – he’s the pastor? Pastor Richard?”
Ness’s nostrils flared. “The very one.”
“Pastor Richard was once Gareth’s apprentice?” Dale realised her voice was raised and she put her hand to her lips.
Ness nodded, her eyes reflecting the sadness that now filled Dale’s heart. Oh, Gareth.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.” Dale turned to see Fay, one of the palace attendants standing by the dining hall entrance. “Jaral is here asking for you, Dale.”
Ness sniffed. “Go on, lass. That’s enough of the past for one morning. I’ll answer more of your questions later.”
Jaral waited on the terrace and his violet eyes lit up when he saw her. “Would you like me to show you around the city?”
Dale smiled. “After what I’ve just heard that would be a nice distraction. Give me a minute?”
Dale raced up the staircase to her room. She changed into a white linen dress embroidered with green silk threads and donned a new pair of leather sandals. Her mother had given her a pair of silver combs and she placed them in her hair. Cat was still curled up on her bed and she gave him a scratch behind the ears before returning to Jaral back on the terrace.
His eyes sparkled and he appeared genuinely struck. “Three Worlds, you look beautiful today.”
Dale put her hands on her hips. “So you could have told me the little thing about the queen being my mother.”
Jaral brought a hand to his heart. “Believe me it took all my will and more to still my tongue about that one. Ness would have had it cut out and cured if I did, and if it wasn’t for fear of that grand old woman I surely would have told you.”
Dale laughed and looked out to the city. “Where will you take me first?”
“The combat grounds. That’s one of my favourite places. I think you’ll like it too.”
Dale did like it. The armoury reminded her of the old castles and museums dotted around the UK. It housed all sorts of weapons – swords, bows, arrows, and slings. The grounds were huge. Big enough for horseback drills and large scale manoeuvres.
The combat grounds were just a short distance down from the palace. She met Sa’r Conaril, the combat leader, again. He too had the elfish pointed ears, sharp eye teeth and slim frame that everyone else seemed to have here. This time he smiled and looked her up and down. “You’ll be back here soon enough to get measured. I’ll see you then.”
Dale looked up at Jaral when he left. “Measured?”
Jaral nodded. “You’ll be training just like the rest of us. Come.” He led her down the path again.
“So what does training require?”
“Everything – combat skills, strategy, philosophy, ethics, cookery, healing and, for you, sorcery.”
“Sorcery?” Dale stopped to look at him.
Jaral cocked his head. “Of course. Come let me show you the apothecary.”
Jaral led Dale through the city. She marvelled at everything. It was a magical new world that had harmony and balance. No homelessness, no pollution. The thought reminded her of the conversation she’d had with her new-found mother and Ness the night before. “The fact is that the Borderlands themselves are no longer in balance. We are at war.“
“Jaral, tell me more about the war. It’s some kind of battle between good and evil, isn’t it?”
Jaral laughed. “You Earthens can be so simple. But perhaps you are right to be. I suppose at a basic level, yes, that is it. We all have both good and evil within us. But amongst the Second it is more polarised. We are more good, while the others, those who exist on the other side of the Verge, beyond Arcadia, are more evil.”
Dale shook her head. “Wait, slow down. The Second, what do you mean by that?”
“You do have a lot to learn, don’t you?” He winked at her as he led her toward the stables. He took out an apple and began cutting it with his knife. “There are three orders of beings in the universe. The First. They are very powerful and they are – were – great creators. They demand balance. Everything must be balanced if it is to survive. They wrote the laws of the worlds. They created us, the Second. We were created in their image, but we are a little more unstable and changeable. Over time we have divided ourselves into two courts. The S…”
“The Seelie and Unseelie.” Dale finished the sentence for him.
Jaral raised an eyebrow. “Yes, you knew that?”
Dale nodded slowly. “Some of your story has been recorded in our folklores, it seems.”
He walked toward a pair of horses that had been stabled over night. Dale recognised them as Stella and Belor who had brought them here. He fed one half of the apple to Belor and gave the other half to Dale. She followed his lead and fed Stella. The mare’s nose felt like velvet.
“So is there a Third?” she asked, thinking she knew the answer though.
Jaral nodded. “The Third include the planet people – Earthens, Dwarvens, and Dryadalins. They are even more vulnerable to imbalance than the Second. But their natures are more changeable than ours. Don’t get me wrong, we can change and ‘swap sides’, but the Third have more of that tendency, which gives them a great capacity for both hope and despair.”
Jaral took up a brush and gave one to Dale. She watched him groom Belor, then followed his lead, brushing along the length of Stella’s neck in long strokes. The mare whinnied softly.
“So let me see if I have this right. The First are like gods.”
Jaral laughed. “I’ve heard Earthens call them that before. Yes, I think they might fit that description. But I don’t know how many of them have long white beards and sit on clouds. Sounds a bit like them, though, from what I’ve heard.”
“You’ve never seen them?”
Jaral shook his head. “I’ve never had that honour, although there are some here who have. Unfortunately the First have not walked amongst us for an age. Some believe they have abandoned us altogether.”
“Oh.” Dale frowned. “But, the Second are like you and my – mother and me?”
Jaral nodded as he brushed his horse. “Yes. All who are born here in the Borderlands are part of the Second. I was a changeling, too, you know.” He winked at Dale and she concentrated on the brush. “But remember the Second has two courts.” He went on. “The Unseelie are dark and evil, as you say. We, the Seelie are pure and good.” He put his hand on his heart and his eyes twinkled, seeming to suggest more mischief than goodness.
“Do all the Seelie look like you?” She indicated his ears.
Jaral laughed. “Not all. There are people to the north and south who look just like you Earthens, and there are dwarfs too. Some of their leaders are on their way here now for a council to discuss the war. But the other court, the Unseelie, they have many different appearances. Some of them look like us, but some are drinkers who feed only on blood, there are orcs and trolls and many ugly beings. But some of them look just as beautiful as you do, or as handsome as I.” His eyes sparkled. Dale went back to brushing the horse, concentrating on controlling her blush.
“So the Third are people who were born on the planets – like Rhys.”
Jaral sniffed. “Yes, Rhys is one of the Third, as much as he hates to admit it.”
“But he is capable of sorcery?”
Jaral creased his brow. “Why, yes, all such beings are. It is more difficult for the Third, particularly the Earthens; the Unseelie have lulled it out of them. Magic is simply not believed there any more, or so I’ve heard.” He touched her shoulder. “You would know better than I.”
Dale nodded. Her eyes went to his hand. “Yes, sorcery is no longer believed, not really.”
“Good morning, Jaral, are you making our newest member comfortable?”
They turned to see a man enter the stables. When he got closer Dale saw that he had round ears like her own.
“Yes, Balak. Dale, this is Balak. He is master of horses.”
Dale smiled at him and couldn’t help looking at his ears.
&nbs
p; Balak smiled back and touched his ears, then pointed to her. “I’m like you, a changeling. But I was born on Earth.”
Dale froze. “Really?”
Balak laughed. “I’ve been here over two thousand years now, I’d say.”
Dale’s eyes widened. He looked no older than thirty.
“But time is a tricky thing here; it shifts and changes with the fog. Nice to meet you, Dale, we must swap Earthen tales one day.” He walked off and Jaral led Dale back down the path.
They went to the bottom of the valley and walked along the river until they came to a lake. There was a jetty and some ropes hanging from the large trees that line the bank. Several children were jumping into the water, the air filled with their laughter.
Dale smiled. “It’s so different here. It’s like I’ve stepped back in time. You don’t have the technology that we have.”
“No, I’ve heard of your technology. Your computers and cars. But that’s part of the problem with the Earthens; they are not in balance with nature. We live in harmony here.”
Jaral pointed to the water. “I like to swim here when it’s hot; you’ll have to join me.” He smiled and looked down at her.
Dale blushed.
Suddenly he looked up and squinted into the sky. “Oh, wonderful.”
Dale followed his line of vision and looked up to see a large white owl fly over them. She’d seen this bird before – its heart shaped face and dark eyes.
“What is it?” she asked.
Jaral grimaced. “Rhys. He’s here.”
They walked back to the terrace together. Hundreds of people stood on the steps around the terrace and all the way along the path down the hill. A smaller group stood on the terrace, their pastel robes catching the breeze.
“The councillors,” Jaral whispered in her ear.
“They meet here in front of everyone?”
Jaral raised an eyebrow. “Of course. We keep no secrets from each other.”
Jaral took her hand and they made their way to the front. She glimpsed Rhys standing in the middle of the ring of men and women. He looked at her and his eyes warmed before he spotted Jaral. He glanced over their hands. Jaral still had her hand firmly held in his. Rhys frowned and returned his attention to the queen who now addressed the assembly of councillors.
“Thank you for your prompt arrival. The Seelie Court is now fully reunited. We have much to discuss. The Verge is overtaken and we must act to take it back.”
“What is the Verge?” Dale whispered to Jaral.
“It’s an area betwixt our two lands – the Seelie and Unseelie. It has always been empty, neutral ground, but in recent times the others have claimed it. We have tried to fight them back but they grow stronger. This is the front of our war.”
“We welcome this meeting. It is long overdue.”
Dale looked at the speaker, a woman with round ears like her own.
“She is from the north,” Jaral whispered.
“As do the people of Mehta.” Another man with round ears.
“They’re from the south. They make fine wine.” Jaral laughed.
“The Stonwold people agree. This meeting is long overdue. We need a renewed effort to fight the war.” It was a dwarf who spoke.
“They are from the Stonwold Mountains. They supply us with metals, silver, gold, copper – important for our decorations and our weapons.”
Dale took it all in as more councillors announced their support.
The queen nodded solemnly. “It is important that we remain unified and support each other in this. We thank you for your long journey here and we shall assemble tomorrow to talk further of our approach. Let us commemorate our reunion tonight with a great feast which will also celebrate the return of my daughter, Dalendra.” Queen Anwyn held out her hand for Dale. Jaral gave her a little push and Dale stepped out looking nervously left and right.
“Go to your mother,” Jaral whispered. “They want to see who you are.”
It was only a short distance to her mother, the queen, but it seemed miles. She felt hundreds of eyes on her but when she held her mother’s hand, comforting warmth enfolded her.
The queen embraced her. “You are already much loved,” she whispered in her daughter’s ear.
Dale smiled and turned around to see the warm eyes of the crowd around her. Some blinked with tears.
“Before we adjourn, you can see that Rhys has returned also, and has some news he would like to relay to us now.”
Dale looked at him. Rhys glanced at her with his dark eyes before turning to speak.
“The dark sorcerer is not idle.”
Dale knew who he meant. Pastor Richard – Ricardo. She shivered.
“He works hard to find our secret, and I think he knows much already. He is recruiting many souls to his cause. Earth is only one of three but it is falling fast and he is leading the fall. You speak of the battle here in the Borderlands. Perhaps we need to fight there first. They are drawing their strength from the Earthens.”
“How much of the secret do you think he knows?” the Dwarven lord asked.
Rhys glanced at Dale. “He killed Gareth. And he stalked her as she made her way here. But she didn’t falter.” He gestured to Dale.
God, I’m the secret they talk of.
“As you know we did much to conceal the secret, but he found her anyway. It was thanks to Gareth she wasn’t taken.” Rhys turned on his heel and looked squarely at the queen. “My lady, I believe we have a traitor amongst us.”
There was a din of gasps and whispers as people reacted to Rhys’s words. Many seemed irritated that he made such a claim.
“That’s preposterous.” It was Sa’r Atapole, the Philosophy master who spoke. “We are not traitorous. The others maybe – but not us. Our trust is absolutely necessary. It is our weapon as much as the girl.” He gestured toward Dale.
She began to feel very uncomfortable having these people talk about her as a thing, a secret, as if she wasn’t even present.
The queen held up her hand. “You managed to go unnoticed?”
Rhys nodded. “I infiltrated them as much as I dared.”
The queen nodded. “I will hear more of this in private. Yes of course we trust each other, Sa’r Atapole, and everything Rhys says will be aired publicly. But tonight is for celebrating. We shall break our court now and resume on the morrow. Please go to the gardens – wine, food and music await.” There was a cheer and people headed off.
The queen turned to Dale. “You did well, daughter.”
Dale made to speak but her mother silenced her. “I know you have more questions, and I will answer them. But I need to speak more with Rhys now. Jaral?” She called the tall man over. He smiled at Dale.
“Could you escort my daughter to the celebrations? I will meet you there later.”
“It would be my singular pleasure,” Jaral said, bowing.
“Rhys, come with me. Ness, you too.” The queen turned and walked to the throne room, her beaded robe reflecting the lantern light.
Rhys gave Dale a dark look and glanced at Jaral briefly before following the queen.
The celebration was the most fantastic event Dale had ever witnessed. In the palace gardens, acrobats and magicians staged tricks in every available space. Food stalls filled the air with aromas of sweets and savouries making Dale’s mouth water. Music echoed through the entire fair with bands dotted throughout the celebration.
But there was something else that caught her eye and set this festival apart from any she had seen on Earth. The free spirits were everywhere. Fat gnomes of all colours danced around the performers like drunken sailors. Sprites, nymphs, sylphs, salamanders, undines and other magical creatures all mixed in with the celebrations. Some were causing mischief. At one of the food stalls two gnomes were stealing pies as soon as they came out of the oven and throwing them at innocent gnomes walking past. A group of nymphs jumped on a tightrope just as the performer took his first step. Dale watched sympathetically as the acrob
at tumbled down. Then she saw her sprite, Esme, dancing on the lawn with a group of other sprites. She laughed her silent laugh and clapped her hands joyfully.
“The free spirits enjoy our celebrations more than we do.” Jaral was smiling at her again, his fangs glinting in the lantern light.
“I’m still coming to terms with them, like everything else in this world. As a child I saw them all the time, but I was taught very quickly that they were not an acceptable part of our world.” Dale shrugged her shoulders. “So, somehow, I stopped seeing them, until recently.”
Jaral’s eyebrows rose. “How very odd. In Dryadalis they are perfectly acceptable. Everyone sees them. Most of us have our special favourites who journey through life with us. You met my two gnomes, Spiros and Tut. They’re rascals, but mostly they prove themselves very useful.”
Dale ate some honey-cake and watched in wonder as a performer juggled fire sticks while balancing on another man’s shoulders. Everyone was friendly and many people approached to welcome Dale personally.
“Do you like our party?” A tall woman with the elfish ears and long cascading dark hair asked.
Dale smiled with wide eyes. “Yes. It’s amazing.”
The woman’s smile broadened and she put a hand to her heart. “My name is Casandriella. I’m a seamstress. It would be a grand honour, Princess, if you would allow me to design a dress for you?”
Dale gulped. Princess?
“Ah, please, do not go to the trouble just for my sake. I may be the queen’s daughter, but I don’t think I’m really a princ—”
“Our new princess is overly humble.” Jaral stepped forward, raising a disapproving eyebrow at Dale. “What she means is she would be flattered to receive such a gift, Casandriella. Especially from such a famed seamstress as yourself.”