The Lost Queen

by Frewin Jones

  Real? Not real?

  Tania walked along the street she had known all her life, gazing amazed at all those strange, familiar houses, knowing as she approached the house she had always called home that the girl she had been was gone forever.

  Tania’s hand trembled as she reached for the doorbell; it felt odd to have to ring at her own front door, but then her missing keys were just another part of her old life—the life that had been stripped away from her over the past three days.

  A thousand raw emotions churned through her. The pure joy of knowing she was about to see her parents again, and the apprehension over how they would react. The fear that things could never be the same again in her life, and the wonder and delight of knowing who she really was. The overwhelming intensity of her love for Edric, and the desolation of being apart from him. Memories of Faerie, memories of this world. All tumbling together as she stood under the porch and waited for the door to open.

  Something in her wanted to run and hide—something stronger kept her there.

  She saw a shadow approaching through the glass panels. The blood pounded in her temples.

  Be brave! Be brave! Be brave!

  The door opened and she saw her father’s familiar round, gentle-eyed face. But the change in him was devastating. There were dark bags under his eyes, his skin was gray and his usual cheerful expression was gone, replaced by misery and despair.

  Tania’s mouth was parched. She swallowed painfully. “Dad…?”

  He gave a wordless shout, his eyes lighting up, his face stretching into a huge relieved smile. He jerked the door wide open and almost threw himself at her.

  She gasped as the breath was squeezed out of her. She put her arms around him, her eyes shut, clinging on tightly, feeling his stubble against her cheek, smelling the familiar scent of his soap, her face buried in the collar of his dressing gown.

  She had no idea of how much time passed as they stood like that on the doorstep.

  Finally he let go of her enough to draw her over the threshold and close the door behind her.

  “Mary!” he called, his voice shaking. “She’s here!”

  Tania tried to speak—to apologize—to explain—but her throat felt achingly tight and her voice wouldn’t come.

  Her father pulled her along the hallway. She saw her mother appear at the head of the stairs. She saw her grip the banister rail, her face a white blur through Tania’s tears. She saw her mother’s legs buckle under her, so that she sat heavily on the top step, her slender body wrapped in her old blue dressing gown.

  Tania pulled loose from her father and scrambled up the stairs. She tumbled onto her knees in front of her mother and buried her face in her lap. She felt her mother’s hands trembling as she stroked her hair.

  “Oh, Anita!” Her mother’s voice was ragged with emotion. “Where have you been? Where have you been?”

  Tania sat at the kitchen table, her eyes stinging from tears, her chest aching and her head numb. She felt as if she was floating in a bubble of frozen glass, as if everything that was going on around her was happening to someone else. Questions came at her and she heard a voice that sounded like hers giving stumbling answers.

  She could smell toast as her dad made her some scrambled eggs.

  Her mother was sitting opposite her, her arms folded on the tabletop, her head thrust forward, watching her with bewildered eyes.

  Tania was finding it even harder than she had imagined to hold up under her parents’ questions. She knew what to say, but she found it desperately hard to repeat the invented story of a journey to Wales to find Edric. And even the strain of remembering to get his name right—to call him Evan—was making her head pound.

  “You could have left a note,” her mother said. “Or phoned us, or…something.”

  “I know,” Tania said quietly, her head throbbing with a growing thunder. “I wasn’t thinking straight. All I could think about was that I had to find Evan.”

  “But how did you manage?” her father asked. “How did you get all the way to north Wales? It’s two hundred miles away.”

  “Plenty of trains go there,” Tania murmured.

  “You got a train from Paddington Station?” her father said.

  She nodded.

  “How did you pay for the ticket?”

  “I had some money.”

  Her father put the plate of scrambled eggs on toast in front of her.

  “So what happened when you got to Wales?” her mother asked.

  Tania picked up the fork and mechanically lifted some scrambled egg to her mouth. She wasn’t hungry, but eating gave her a chance to gather her thoughts, to delay the lies.

  It was horrible that her parents were so willing to believe her story. But why shouldn’t they? They loved her and trusted her….

  “I had an address,” she said, her eyes on her plate, her hands busy with the knife and fork as she cut the toast into small pieces. “People helped me. I caught another train.” Lies! Lies! Lies! “I don’t really remember it all.”

  “Where did you sleep?” asked her father. “How did you eat?”

  “I slept in the railway stations,” Tania said. “I had enough money for food.”

  “Where did you get these clothes?” her mother asked. “We took your own clothes away from the hospital. We were going to bring some fresh.”

  “I…I found them,” Tania said. That sounds so weak! What is wrong with you?

  “In the hospital, you mean?”

  Tania nodded and bought herself a few more seconds by putting more food into her mouth and chewing it slowly. She was aware of her parents looking at each other with baffled faces. It would almost have been a relief for one of them to turn and say, “You’re lying to us! Tell us the truth!”

  She felt so ashamed. More than anything else in the world, she wanted to abandon this ridiculous pretense and tell them what had really happened to her, the wonders she had seen, the things she had discovered, the truth of who she really was.

  No! Not now. Not yet. Not like this.

  “So you managed to find the place where Evan’s family live?” her father said.

  “Yes.” She swallowed uncomfortably. “And I brought him back with me.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “He’s gone to his hostel. I told him that he wouldn’t get into trouble with the police.” She looked from her mother’s face to her father’s and back again. “The boat crash was an accident,” she said. “They won’t prosecute him, will they? They mustn’t.”

  “No, I don’t think he’ll be prosecuted,” her father said. “But he was stupid to run away like that.”

  Her mother reached out and rested her hand on Tania’s arm. “You came back together, yes?”

  Tania nodded.

  “Have you told us everything that happened between you?”

  Tania frowned. “Yes,” she said. “What do you mean?” She looked into her mother’s anxious eyes and knew exactly what she meant. “Nothing else happened,” she promised. At least that was one question she could answer with complete honesty.

  “How did you get back to London at this time in the morning?” her father asked. “Surely there aren’t any overnight trains from Wales?”

  “We got here late last night,” Tania said. “We didn’t want to wake you so we walked the streets till it got light.”

  “Wake us?” Her mother gasped. “Anita, you wouldn’t have woken us up. Neither of us have had any proper sleep since you went missing.”

  “Of course you haven’t,” Tania agreed guiltily. “I’m so sorry for what I put you both through. I’ll never ever do anything like that again—I promise.”

  Her mother glanced at the wall clock. “There should be someone at the school by now. I’ll phone and let them know you’re all right.” She stood up and went into the living room.

  Tania placed her knife and fork on the plate and pushed it away, still almost full. She looked apologetically at her father. “Sorry, I can’t manag
e any more.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Is there anything else you fancy?”

  She smiled tiredly. “I don’t think so. To be honest, I just want to curl up and sleep for a whole week.”

  “You’ve had quite a time of it, haven’t you, my girl?” he said, sitting beside her and cupping her cheek in his warm hand.

  “I’ve caused so much trouble.” She sighed. “You must be sorry you ever had me.”

  “That’s right,” he said gently. “We’re going to send you back and ask for a replacement. Someone who would know better than to go chasing halfway across the country in search of some idiot boy!”

  Exhaustion came down over her like a stifling blanket. “You mustn’t blame Evan,” she murmured. “It wasn’t his fault.”

  “I’m not concerned with that right now,” her father said. “You’re home safe and sound, and that’s all that matters.” His fingers pressed against her cheek, turning her head to face him. His expression had grown serious. “You’re an intelligent young woman and you’re growing up fast,” he said. “But in some ways you still act like a child. Running away like that…” He shook his head. “There have to be consequences,” he said. “You know that, don’t you?”

  She nodded, already guessing what was coming next.

  “I don’t think you should see that boy anymore,” her father said. “He has too much influence over you, and it’s time for it to stop.”

  That was it. Right there. That was the axe she had been waiting to fall.

  She nodded again without speaking.

  A few moments later her mother came back into the room. “I spoke with the school secretary,” she said. “She’s going to pass the message on to Mr. Cox. I said you’re exhausted but you’re safe and well. And I said that you’d be back in class tomorrow. Your dad can drive you over there in the morning and help you to explain things.”

  “I’ve told her she’s not to see Evan Thomas any more,” her father said.

  “Yes, that’s for the best,” said her mother. “I won’t ask you to make us any promises, Anita,” she added. “Promises are too easily broken, but we are trusting you to do as we ask.”

  Tania gazed up at her, too tired to argue, and knowing that she was in no position to offer a convincing argument even if she tried. “What about the school play?” she said. “Am I banned from that as well?” She was playing Juliet to Edric’s Romeo; they had been in rehearsals for weeks and it was due to be performed in just eight days’ time. If her parents agreed to let her continue in the role, at least that would give her a legitimate reason for seeing Edric.

  “You’re obviously not going to be able to avoid bumping into him at school,” her mother said. “And after all the hard work you’ve put in, I don’t think you can let everyone down by not carrying on with the play.”

  “But if you have rehearsals outside normal school hours, I’ll take you there and pick you up,” her father added.

  “You know what we mean by not seeing him,” her mother warned. “Not seeing him as boyfriend and girlfriend, or whatever it is you call it these days. That’s what has to stop. And I think you need a curfew, too.” She looked at Tania’s father. “I think it should be eight o’clock school days and nine o’clock weekends.”

  “That sounds fair,” he said.

  Tania swallowed hard. “How long for?” she croaked.

  “We’ll see,” said her mother. “It’s too soon to start thinking about things like that. Concentrate on your schoolwork for what’s left of the term, and we’ll have another talk about it in a month or so.”

  A month or so. Tania’s spirits sank.

  She couldn’t possibly keep away from Edric for that long—not even if the only problem was the heartache of separation. But that wasn’t her only concern, not by a long way.

  The last thing she had promised King Oberon before she and Edric left Faerie was that they would seek out Titania, his lost Queen, who had gone through the mystical Oriole Glass in pursuit of her vanished daughter five hundred years ago and who had never returned.

  The only clue they had to Titania’s whereabouts was Tania’s Soul Book. Someone in the Mortal World had sent it to her on the eve of her sixteenth birthday, and Tania was convinced it had come from Queen Titania, the mother of the Faerie half of her nature.

  The parcel had been postmarked Richmond in southwest London. That’s where the search must begin, but to keep her promise to Oberon, she would have to tell yet more lies to her parents.

  I can’t think about that now. Too tired. Must sleep.

  “You look shattered, my girl.” Her father’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Why don’t you go and catch up on some sleep?”

  She nodded. Sleep—that’s what she wanted more than anything in the world. A whole day of deep, dreamless sleep.

  She opened her bedroom door and frowned. Standing on the floor at the foot of her bed was a large box wrapped in gold paper and tied with red ribbon. There were other, smaller brightly wrapped boxes arranged around it. And a big pile of colored envelopes.

  “Happy belated birthday, Anita,” came her mother’s voice from behind her.

  “Did you think you wouldn’t get any presents?” her father added.

  They had obviously followed her up the stairs.

  “I’d totally forgotten!” Tania said, staring at the pile of gifts.

  “Come on,” said her father. “Surely you’ve got the strength to open a few things before you crash out. I want to see what you got!”

  Laughing through her exhaustion, Tania dropped to her knees on the carpet and reached for the pile of cards.

  It was half an hour later. Tania lay fully clothed on her bed, so worn out that she didn’t even have the energy to get undressed. Her birthday cards were lined up on shelves and furniture tops all around her. Her new computer stood on her desk. All her other gifts were laid out on her chest of drawers: a backpack from Nan and Granddad, a necklace from Auntie Jenny and Uncle Steve. A CD from her cousin Helena, a couple of books, a red satin scarf. Gift vouchers and some cash.

  She gazed drowsily around her room, looking at all her familiar things…remembering her bedchamber in the Royal Palace in Faerie, that enchanted room with its living tapestries and windows that overlooked the formal palace gardens.

  It had been so different from her bedroom here. And yet she had felt at home there. At home there, at home here. At home in both worlds or neither?

  What was it that Gabriel Drake had said to her only moments before Oberon had banished him?

  Your spirit is split between the worlds. You shall never find peace!

  Tania pushed away the memory of his voice. He was wrong. He had to be wrong.

  Her canvas shoulder bag was propped against her bedside table. The last time she had seen it had been in the hospital—her parents must have picked it up for her.

  She reached out and dragged the bag toward her. She fumbled into it and found her phone. When she pressed to turn it on, the screen lit up.

  HI ANITA!

  Still some power left in the battery. Good.

  She speed-dialed Evan’s number—Edric’s number—and put the phone to her ear. It was answered after a single tone.

  “How did it go?” His voice was full of urgent concern. “I’ve been waiting ages for you to call. Are you all right?”

  “I lied my head off,” she said miserably. “And they believed me.”

  “That’s good,” Edric said.

  “Is it?” Tania replied, her eyes closed, her head swimming. “Is it really good? Listen, I’m sorry. I’m too tired to talk right now. We can talk tomorrow at school.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Not really.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  She pressed to disconnect. The phone dropped out of her hand and slipped off the side of the bed. She was vaguely aware of a soft thump as it hit the carpet.

  Moments later
she was asleep.

  II

  Tania and Edric were stumbling up a steeply sloping, night-dark valley, hand in hand and running for their lives. All around them, the splintered mountains shone like black glass under a deluge of icy rain. The storm clouds were as dense as lead, their swollen bellies torn open by the jagged rocks. Lightning leaped from crag to crag with a sound like the hissing of snakes.

  In the gulping darkness at their heels Tania could hear harsh, heavy breathing. She glanced fearfully over her shoulder and felt sure that she saw two red eyes through the falling water.

  “Come on!” Edric’s voice cut through the tumult.

  She scrambled along the rising valley floor, only just managing to keep to her feet as she clung to Edric’s hand. Sheer black cliffs closed in around them, the shining stone so smooth and sharp-edged that an unwary touch could draw blood. It was like climbing through a snare of broken glass—and all the time the rain beat down on them and the thunder boomed in their ears and the lightning was as fierce as acid in their eyes.

  Her foot slipped and she fell onto her knee, crying out with the pain.

  “Get up!” Edric shouted down. “It’s closing in on us!”

  “What is?” she wailed. “Edric? What is this place? How did we get here?”

  “Don’t you know?” he shouted. “This is Ynis Maw!”

  The name sent a shudder through her. But why? She had never heard those strange words before.

  “I’ll have to let go of you,” Edric shouted down. “I need both hands to get up this next bit.” His wet hand slid out of hers and she watched as he scrambled up the rock face. She got to her feet. She was deadly cold and soaked to the skin. She clutched her arms around herself, staring up into the vicious rain, her face stinging from a thousand sharp impacts.

  A loud, rumbling snort sounded behind her. She turned her head, staring down into the black gorge. She heard the scratch and scrape of huge claws on the stone. Two red points of light were moving upward through the rain.