by Frewin Jones
The Immortal Realm
Book Four of The Faerie Path
Frewin Jones
For Chris Snowdon
Faeries tread the Faerie path
One sister lost, another bonds in wedded bliss
Yet shadows gather in the Faerie night
As deadly as a serpent’s kiss
A half-breed princess torn by doubt
A love betrayed, a promise given to break or keep
As sickness stalks the timeless land
Immortal Realm is drowned in peril deep
Contents
Epigraph
Part One
The Day After Happy Ever After
I
Princess Tania stood on the green hilltop, her face to…
II
Tania walked through the crowds, arm-in-arm with her Mortal mother.
III
Tania ran through the bewildered crowds that were gathering at…
IV
Mallory looked into Tania’s face. “Thank you,” she said. “I…
V
Tania had the sense of hurtling through the air in…
VI
Tania stood at the forecastle rail of the Cloud Scudder.
VII
Tania arrived at Cordelia’s bedchamber to find the door locked…
VIII
“Tania. Wake up now.”
IX
The streets of Rhyehaven were deserted. A few fearful faces…
X
“Step aside. I would speak with my sister.”
Part Two
Mortal Children Have No Wings
XI
“Quick! Grab them!”
XII
“Does nothing in this benighted world function without hideous din?”…
XIII
Tania gazed into the cruel faces of the young men…
XIV
“What just happened?” Connor sounded more amazed than scared.
XV
“It was you?” said Tania. “You all the time?”
Part Three
The Road of Faith
XVI
Edric’s hand slipped out of Tania’s the moment they came…
XVII
“What madness is this!” bellowed a deep voice. “Release the…
XVIII
The orb of white fire dwindled until it was no…
XIX
Rathina leaned so close to the map that her hair…
XX
Tania crashed heavily into the sand, her left shoulder and…
Epilogue
The slender white-hulled sloop crested the waves, skimming like a…
About the Author
Other Books by Frewin Jones
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
Part One:
The Day After Happy Ever After
I
Princess Tania stood on the green hilltop, her face to the west and her eyes half closed against the setting sun. For the first time in weeks she felt at peace. She twined her fingers with those of her beloved Edric, and all her burdens washed away on the Faerie air that came in warm from the Western Ocean, sea-scented, pure, and clear.
She opened her eyes again, gazing at Edric, watching the way the breeze lifted his dark blond hair. He turned and smiled, and she lost herself for a few blissful moments in the warmth of his brown eyes.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“Nothing at all,” Tania replied, squeezing his hand. “I’m just enjoying having you to myself for a while.” She laughed softly, resting her head on his shoulder. “When was the last time we were alone together?”
“I don’t remember. Not since you brought Clive and Mary through, that’s for sure.”
Tania nodded. “That’s three weeks, then,” she said.
Clive and Mary Palmer: Tania’s Mortal parents, the mother and father of the human half of her nature. Oh, but she had caused them such anxiety and fear when all this had started.
First there had been the boating accident on the eve of her sixteenth birthday. Then had come her disappearance from hospital and her reappearance three days later, telling tall tales to hide the truth of what had happened to her. And the second time she had vanished, she had left her home in chaos: a Mercedes Benz crashed in the garden, the back door ripped off its hinges, broken windows, dead starlings strewn over the kitchen floor, and her own bedroom door hacked and split open by sword blows.
And then her sudden return with Edric in the middle of the night. The need to convince her parents to have faith in her despite all that had happened. The four of them in her bedroom, holding hands, her mother desperately anxious, her father about to explode with anger—then that simple side step that had taken them out of the Mortal World and into the Immortal Realm of Faerie.
Tania smiled at the memory. “All things considered, Mum and Dad have done really well,” she said. “When I first got here, I thought this whole place was one big crazy dream.”
“They had help adjusting,” Edric said, slipping his arm around her shoulders. “You were all on your own…at the start, anyway.”
“I guess.” Tania fingered the pendant necklace that Edric had given her: a token of true love—a teardrop of black onyx, warm and shiny and smooth to the touch.
The sounds of the festivities carried up to them from the valley that lay at their backs: laughter and music and happy, calling voices.
“We should go back soon, I suppose,” Edric said. “We’ll be missed.”
“Not just yet.”
Tania pressed herself against him, wrapping her arms around his back, breathing in his scent. She felt his hand stroking her long red hair. She tilted her head. His lips were soft on her forehead, then lightly kissing the closed lids of her green eyes, brushing along her cheek, moving gently to her mouth.
She came out of the kiss and opened her eyes. Turning in the sheltering circle of his arms, she gazed westward over the ocean. She knew that beyond the horizon the foul, sorcerous island of Lyonesse brooded in distant waters. It was almost impossible to believe that only three short weeks ago, she had fought and triumphed over the King of that dreadful land.
And now all she wanted was to be in Edric’s arms and to drift away forever on the enchanted Faerie evening.
The sun hung low on the horizon, a golden globe that spilled its burnished light onto the ocean so that the waves seemed flecked with amber fire. At their feet the hill sloped down in rugged terraces to a cliff edge that fell away to tide-washed rocks of ancient granite.
On this momentous evening it seemed as if the sun had turned everything to gold. The air glowed with it, heavy and rich as honey; every grass blade was limned with flaxen light; every pebble along the shoreline seemed gilded.
Tania’s heart was almost too full for her to speak. “I don’t ever want this moment to end,” she whispered. “This is so perfect.”
She felt Edric’s arms tighten around her. “I want to ask you something,” he murmured, his lips close to her ear.
“Ask away,” she said.
But before he could speak again, the call of bright horns came echoing up from the valley behind them.
“What’s that?” she asked, breaking loose from Edric’s embrace.
“It’s the nuptial carillon,” Edric said. “We need to get down there right away. It’s time for Cordelia and Bryn to perform the final ritual of marriage.”
“Okay, but what were you going to ask me?”
“It can wait.”
Subduing her curiosity, Tania took his hand and together they ran back down the winding earthen path that had brought them up out of the long green valley of Leiderdale.
Tania�
�s heart leaped at the vista that spread out below them.
The wide valley was filled with tents and pavilions of brightly colored silk and satin. The flags and banners of many Houses of Faerie fluttered in the breeze. Above the largest canopy floated the standards of the King and Queen of Faerie. Oberon’s colors—the blazing yellow sun on a field of sapphire—and the pennant of his wife, Queen Titania—a white full moon on a background of deep blue.
All of the Faerie court had come here to the Earldom of Dinsel to celebrate the marriage of Princess Cordelia to Bryn Lightfoot. The Royal Palace had emptied and its lords and ladies had traveled to this western promontory to witness the joining of the fourth daughter of the Royal House of Aurealis to the handsome young man from the Earldom of Weir.
Bride and groom had first met only a few short weeks ago in the distant hills of Weir when Bryn had saved Cordelia, Tania, and Edric from the fierce unicorns of Caer Liel. Bryn Lightfoot lived alone on the moors; he had no family to attend the wedding and his only friends had been the beasts and birds of the hills and valleys of his wild homeland. Cordelia loved all animals and had the gift of speaking with them, and an instant rapport had blossomed between her and the wild young man who lived safely and alone among the dangerous northern unicorns.
The whole length of the valley of Leiderdale was hung with garlands of wildflowers, and the air brimmed with their scent while white and pink petals floated in the breeze before settling in the grass, thick as snowdrifts.
Tania and Edric leaped over stones and through long grass as they made their way down into Leiderdale. All the people had gathered in the center of the valley. The close-packed crowd had split into two, leaving a wide grassy aisle that led from the royal canopy all the way to the great gray, flat-topped stone known as the High Chantrelle.
The great Singing Stone of Leiderdale rose out of the grass, its eight sides so sharp and smooth that axes might have hewn them. Its platform rose to shoulder height and glittered with minerals.
The sun was out of sight now, and the long valley was falling into deep, sumptuous shadow. A few torches began mystically to ignite, their light spreading until points of rosy flame could be seen dancing along the entire expanse of Leiderdale.
A hush descended, a quietness threaded through with anticipation and suspense. Happy faces turned toward Tania and Edric as they made their way through the crowd, pressing on hand-in-hand until they came to the front of the congregation.
The tent flaps of the royal canopy were drawn back. The long-awaited moment had come. A flock of white doves burst from the opening, rising high into the sky and circling the tent. At the same moment huge flocks of birds sprang from the hilltops all around, filling the air with their chatter.
Tania gazed upward as the birds wheeled across the darkening sky. They raced over the heads of the watchers, darting from one hilltop to the other, splitting into arrowhead formations that reeled out like spinning threads.
“Do you think Cordelia organized all this?” Tania said breathlessly. “She never mentioned it to me.”
“I don’t think so,” Edric replied. “The wild birds are here because they love her—as do all the animals of Faerie. The bond between the princess and all beasts is strong; they’re celebrating her happiness.”
The flocks parted and the sky emptied. The hilltops resounded to the hum of a hundred thousand wings. As quickly as it had begun, the sky-dance was over and the hillsides were black with the birds, silent now, still and watchful.
A lamb emerged from the tent. It turned its woolly head back and bleated once before continuing. In its wake came a procession of other animals: cats and dogs and wolves and martens and foxes and beavers and wild pigs. Small southern unicorns trotted along behind, their hides as blue as snow under the moon, their horns like silver. And with them came ponies and deer and a bear and a twelve-point stag so tall that it had to dip its majestic head to pass under the canopy’s awning.
And then Cordelia and Bryn appeared, smiling as they walked slowly between two of the wild unicorns of Weir. The crowd erupted into cheering and applause.
“Happiness eternal to the princess and her groom!” came a shout. “May the stars shine forever upon your joyful union!”
More voices called out, wishing bliss on the smiling couple. “May the sun and moon bless you for all time!”
When Cordelia had first spoken of her intention to marry Bryn, Tania had been taken aback by the speed at which they were moving their relationship forward. Even when she had come to terms with it, she found the idea of all the pomp and ceremony of a Faerie wedding overwhelming.
But now her heart leaped at the sight of her Faerie sister smiling radiantly, dressed for once in something other than her beloved brown dress. Her wedding dress was a full-skirted gown of iridescent silk taffeta that moved with a shimmer of sky blue and gold, embroidered at the bodice with gold thread and studded with sapphires and tawny agates. The sleeves were long, lace-trimmed, and pointed, decorated at the cuff with fine needlework. Resting in her red-gold hair was a coronet of white yarrow blossom. A broad, flowing train glided along behind her, the delicate gauze floating over the grass as she paced solemnly at Bryn Lightfoot’s side.
Her groom was dressed in a forest green tabard edged with gold and with three unicorns embroidered on the chest. Beneath it he wore a shirt of ivory silk. His leggings were of oakwood brown and his boots of supple leather. Around his unruly black hair he wore a garland of russet ivy, and as he walked the aisle of grass with his bride, his dark eyes shone with joy.
“Way to go, Cordie!” Tania shouted, lifting her voice above all the others, tears pricking behind her eyes as the procession passed where she and Edric were standing.
Cordelia turned her head, hearing Tania’s voice in the throng; then, catching Tania’s eye, she pulled a wry face as if to say, Look at me in all this finery. What a sight I must be!
“You look beautiful,” Tania called.
King Oberon and Queen Titania stood under the shadow of the entrance to the tent, their faces glowing with happiness as they watched bride and groom walk toward the High Chantrelle. Their majesty was undeniable, the King in a white doublet and hose, his Queen in a satin gown that shone like new-fallen snow.
Tania turned, trying to find faces in the crowds. Ah! There. A little way along on the other side of the aisle she could see her sister Hopie with her husband, Lord Brython. And Earl Marshal Cornelius, brother to the King, was close by with his two tall stepsons and their mother, the beautiful Marchioness Lucina.
“Love Immortal while Faerie lasts,” called Edric. He looked at Tania, his eyes shining. “Love for all time!”
She laughed for pure joy. “Love for all time!” she echoed.
She caught sight of her Mortal mother, dressed in a coral-colored Faerie gown, smiling and clapping as Cordelia and Bryn walked past. And just behind her mother, she saw her father, looking a little uncomfortable in his borrowed Faerie clothes. Even at a distance Tania could see that his face was flushed; he had not been well for a few days now. He passed it off as a mild summer cold, but all the same, Tania thought, it must be wretched to be the only ill person in a land where there was no sickness and no disease and where no one ever grew old and died. Poor Dad! As soon as the ceremony was over, she’d go and make a fuss over him.
Tania waved, trying to get her parents’ attention, but there was too much noise and activity for them to notice her. Soon Cordelia and Bryn were almost at the end of the aisle. As they approached the High Chantrelle, the animals split into two lines, one circling the great gray stone from the left, the other from the right, so that by the time bride and groom came to the stone, it was ringed with waiting animals.
Five stone steps led to the wide, polished summit of the rock. Cordelia lifted the hem of her dress and picked her way carefully to the top. Bryn followed behind, gathering her train and then spreading it around her so that it foamed at her feet.
Tania and Edric made their way closer to
the High Chantrelle, the people gladly opening a path for them as they moved through the tight-packed crowds.
Cordelia and Bryn turned to face west. They stood side-by-side looking back down the petal-strewn aisle to where Oberon and Titania were standing.
An absolute silence fell.
Tania held her breath. She had never witnessed a Faerie marriage before, but she knew that this was the final act, after which her sister and the unicorn friend would be truly bound in wedlock. It had taken three days so far, beginning with the Hand-Fasting Ceremony in the Hall of Light in the Royal Palace. Tania had found that sacrament difficult to watch; it had stirred too many bad memories. She, too, had once been betrothed and had come close to having her own Faerie wedding—with Lord Gabriel Drake of the House of Weir as her groom, a wicked man who had almost brought Faerie to ruin.
Many other ceremonials for Cordelia and Bryn had taken place over the following two days, and then everyone had boarded ships to take them to Dinsel for the final celebration. The Royal Family had sailed aboard the Cloud Scudder, the King’s own galleon with its silver-white decks and spars and sails.
And now all that remained was the Song of Betrothal.
Cordelia’s voice rang out strongly through the silence. “Alas, I cannot sing as well as my beloved sister Zara would have done,” she called. “But to her sacred memory I dedicate all that takes place here, knowing this to be the region of Faerie that was most dear to her heart.”
Tania bit her lip; the death of Zara was still too raw, too vivid in her mind’s eye for her to think of it without much pain. Edric’s fingers tightened around hers in a token of understanding. She was comforted, but even though she knew her valiant, carefree sister was at rest now in the Blessed Land of Avalon, she couldn’t help but grieve for her.