The Immortal Realm

by Frewin Jones

  I won’t cry. I will not fall to pieces!

  Silently Tania led her parents into the soft gloom of the tower and up the spiral stairway to the upper floor. It was a simple room of bare stone walls and dusty floorboards. A single arched window cast a wedge of light across the room. Tania paused in the middle of the floor, holding out both hands. Her parents took her hands.

  Tania swallowed and took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said. “Now!”

  They stepped forward together. Tania made the small side step and saw the gray stone fade away to be replaced by the familiar surroundings of her bedroom in her home in the Mortal World.

  There was her bed with its yellow-and-gold-patterned duvet cover. Her cluttered desk with her new computer on it—a birthday present, hardly used. Bookshelves. A crowded chest of drawers. A bulletin board on the wall. Posters. A heap of school books on the floor. And through the window the everyday Camden skyline and a wreath of white clouds that stretched far out over London.

  “Extraordinary,” murmured her father.

  Her mother turned and cupped Tania’s face between her hands. “And now you have to go back, sweetheart,” she said. “Help your sister to find a cure before anyone else gets sick.”

  “I will,” Tania said. “But I’m still not convinced it was anything to do with Dad.”

  “Let’s hope so,” said her mother. She kissed Tania’s forehead.

  Her father’s hand stroked her shoulder. “Best not kiss good-bye,” he said.

  She screwed her face up. “Stop being so sweet, the two of you!” she said. “Do you want me to dissolve into a puddle on the carpet?” She pulled away from her mother, turning and looking at them. “I’ll see you soon, got me? I’ll be back soon!”

  “Be careful, sweetheart,” said her father.

  “And you.” Gritting her teeth, Tania stepped forward and a little to one side, and her parents melted away and she was back in Faerie.

  Oberon was waiting for her on the hillside, his back turned to her as she emerged from the tower, his eyes on the palace.

  She stood next to him, but a little apart. “They’ve gone,” she said.

  Oberon moved closer and put his arm around her shoulders.

  “It was well done, my child,” he said. “I know how it grieved your heart to say farewell to them. But now we have grave work ahead of us. We must call the Conclave of Earls and await the outcome of their deliberations.”

  She looked up at him. “What’s the Conclave of Earls?”

  “A meeting of all the great lords and ladies of Faerie,” Oberon told her. “When such danger as this threatens the Realm, a monarch cannot make decisions alone.”

  “It was one child,” Tania said. “I know it was awful, but it was only one child.”

  The King’s eyes seemed to burn into her. “Heed me, Tania,” he said, his voice deep and severe. “If you have not understood yet, then understand now: The child’s death was not of natural cause. If your Mortal father did not cause it, then some great evil attacks this land. And for all his sorceries and subtleties, the King of Lyonesse did not have the power to extinguish without trace the life of a Faerie child.”

  Tania gazed up at him in growing alarm. “You mean it could be something worse than the Sorcerer King?”

  The King nodded, gazing out over the palace and the deep woodland that lay beyond the curl of the river. He spread his arms as if to embrace the soft, heathered hills that rose to the northern horizon.

  “I am Faerie,” he intoned, his voice so deep that Tania felt it like thunder in her belly. “As thrives the land, so I thrive. I am tied to this land mind, body, and soul. Every death pierces me—and the death of Gyvan has thrust a thorn into my heart.”

  As she watched her Faerie father, Tania finally realized the dreadful truth. She had been hoping that her Mortal father had not caused the child’s death, but for the people of Faerie, an imported Mortal disease was better by far than the alternative: that some evil power had reached into their land and squeezed cold fingers around Gyvan’s small body.

  The King started, as if some sudden sound had shocked him. “There is fear and dread in Leiderdale,” he said, peering into the west. “Come, we must return!”

  Tania reached for his hand and was swept up in racing lightning.

  Earl Valentyne lay on a low cot, his head propped on a pillow, his face gray. Eden sat at his side, holding one bony hand in hers, looking at him with anxious, frightened eyes.

  Lord Brython put his hand under the earl’s head, lifting him so that his lips came to the rim of a small wooden bowl held by Hopie.

  “Drink, my lord,” Eden urged.

  The earl sipped and coughed. Eden wiped sweat from his forehead.

  Tania stood at the end of the bed. Oberon was behind Eden, leaning forward, looking down at the earl with anxious eyes.

  “When was Earl Valentyne taken sick?” the King asked.

  “It happened only moments after the horse of air took you,” Rathina said, standing at Tania’s side. “He stumbled and would have fallen if Eden had not been to hand.”

  “He has a high fever,” said Hopie. “This tincture of yarrow and elderflower will bring out the sweat, and I have added echinacea, chamomile, and goldenseal to give him strength.” She glanced up at Tania. “These are physics I use to fight the fevers that come with broken limbs, but I do not know how effective they may be against…against this plague that you have brought on us.”

  Tania stared at her. Was even Hopie blaming her for this?

  “Hist, now, Hopie,” said Titania. “Do not strike out blindly in your grief and helplessness. This is not your sister’s fault.”

  “No, I spoke in anger,” Hopie said, looking at Tania with hooded eyes. “This thing is not of your doing—and yet as we speak three more infants sicken.”

  “Oh, god…no…” Tania groaned. “Not more.”

  She felt Rathina’s arm around her waist. “Brave heart, my love,” her sister murmured in her ear.

  “Are they dying?” Tania asked.

  “My potions tether them to this world for the moment,” said Hopie. “But I know not how long my herbs and simples will suffice.”

  “We must prevent the disease from spreading further,” said Titania. She turned to the King. “None must be allowed to leave here, my lord,” she said. She frowned. “And yet this is no place for the sick. We came prepared for a day of festivities, not to feed and house hundreds while this fever takes its course.”

  “We should return to the palace,” Sancha said. “In the library there are many lore books; perhaps I will find a cure in their pages.”

  “The cure for a Mortal disease?” Cordelia said dubiously. “I fear not.”

  “Nevertheless—” Sancha began, but Oberon interrupted her.

  “We will not dwell here,” he said. “But neither will we return to the Royal Palace. Many folk remained there who may have none of this pestilence in their veins; I would not put them in danger. Let us go to Veraglad upon the high southern cliffs. There shall we stay until this thing is defeated or until its evils are spent.”

  Tania knew of the Summer Palace of Veraglad, although she had no memories of the times she had spent there with her sisters in her lost Faerie childhood.

  The King turned to her. “Tania, go with Rathina and Sancha. Spread the news of our departure; have all make ready to board the ships.”

  Tania nodded and with a final miserable glance at Earl Valentyne, she left the tent with her sisters, intending to let everyone know that they should start packing up and making their way to the harbor.

  Edric was standing just outside the tent.

  No, she thought. Not now. This isn’t the time.

  He stepped into her path. She lifted her hand, as though trying to ward him off.

  “Will you talk to me, please?” he said.

  She paused, aware that her sisters were looking at her. “You go on ahead,” she said to them. “I won’t be long.”

&
nbsp; She felt the quick squeeze of Rathina’s fingers in hers, and then she was alone with Edric. She looked into his face, holding her emotions in check, caught between the need to be comforted by him and the urge to launch her fist into his face.

  “Well?”

  “You’re blaming me for what happened, and that isn’t fair,” he said quietly. “I didn’t accuse your parents of anything. They came to me.”

  “But you were quick enough to agree with them, weren’t you?” Tania said, glad that her voice sounded steady and level. “You were happy enough to let them be punished for it.”

  “No, I wasn’t happy. But what else could I have done?”

  “You could have stood up for them like I did!” A poisonous edge came into her voice. “Ever heard the phrase ‘innocent till proven guilty’?”

  A muscle twitched along his jaw. “Ever heard the word ‘epidemic’?” he retorted. “Don’t you care about what happens here? Because I do. This is my world, Tania, and your Mortal father has put it at risk.”

  “You don’t know that!”

  “Oh, wake up, Tania! What else?” His eyes burned. “Tell me!” he said. “Tell me what else could be going on here? You’re so blinded by loyalty to them that you’re not thinking straight.”

  “Loyalty? Is that all you think I feel toward my parents?”

  “I presume you mean your Mortal parents,” Edric said coldly.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, you’re very quick to remind me of that, aren’t you?” she said bitterly. “Tania the not-really-full-blood Faerie. Who is she? Who is this strange girl? She’s neither one thing nor the other; she’s Tania the half-breed!”

  “I never said that. I never thought that for a single moment,” said Edric. “Why would I have asked you to marry me if I felt like that about you?”

  “Who knows?” Tania exclaimed, the anger surging unstoppably through her. “Nothing in this stupid world makes any sense. Maybe you were thinking of starting a freak show with me as the main attraction.”

  Edric moved toward her, his face now more concerned than angry. “Tania, calm down,” he said.

  “Get away from me!” she exploded. “Don’t touch me!”

  He backed off, his hands raised. “Okay, okay,” he said. “I’m going. You obviously need to cool off. We’ll talk again when you’re being a bit more rational.” He turned and walked rapidly away.

  She seethed with rage, her hands knotted, her knuckles white. She wanted to run after him and throw herself at him and beat him with her fists until all the pain in her mind was gone forever.

  I can’t believe he’s just walked away from me, she thought furiously. He’s meant to love me!

  She wished she had never met Edric. She wished she had never even heard of Faerie. She wished with all her heart that she could go back three months and just be a normal girl again.

  She turned and followed her sisters.

  She was so sick and tired of feeling this way. All she wanted was to wake up in bed back in London and find this had been a bad dream.

  VI

  Tania stood at the forecastle rail of the Cloud Scudder. She was alone at the bow, a breeze sending her hair flying around her face. The silver ship had been sailing all through the night and dawn was now close.

  A white light caught her eye, sparkling and winking low on the dark horizon. At first she thought it was a star, till she heard the lookout’s voice ringing out from high at the masthead.

  “Rhyehaven, ho!” came the call. “Voyage’s end!”

  The Cloud Scudder sailed in under the rearing chalk cliffs of Udwold just as the sun was rising in a sky banded with clouds of pale crimson. Perched on the highest cliff, far above the topmost mast of the Royal Galleon, was the Palace of Veraglad, its elegant curved walls and slender turrets and needle-sharp steeples fashioned from a white crystal that shone so brightly Tania could hardly bear to look at it.

  A voice came soft in her ear. “Do you remember?” It was Sancha, standing at her shoulder and also gazing up at the palace. “The long golden weeks of summers long past when the whole court of Faerie would sally forth to Veraglad Palace for the Solstice Revels…”

  “No, I don’t,” Tania said sadly. “I wish I did.”

  “Perhaps memory will return when you enter your old bedchamber high in the Sunset Tower.”

  “Here’s hoping.” Tania sighed. She had spent sixteen years as a princess in Faerie, but of that life she knew nothing apart from what she had read in her Soul Book or had had explained to her by others.

  The loss gaped inside her like a wound that would never heal.

  She turned and looked down the bustling decks. Beyond the high stern of the Cloud Scudder she saw the other ships following in their creamy wake. The quarantine ship was at the rear, a dark red flag snapping at the head of its mainmast.

  “I’m praying no one else has died,” Tania whispered.

  “Hopie has great skill,” said Sancha. “I have faith that our sister will prevail.”

  Hopie was aboard the quarantine ship with the Queen, mixing what potions she could and giving them to the sick. Apart from a small crew, mother and daughter had insisted on being alone with the plague victims.

  “Yes. Faith is good,” Tania murmured. “I like faith….”

  But would faith be enough?

  Rhyehaven nestled in a deep slot between rearing cliffs, its round harbor protected by two curved breakwaters of natural rock reaching into the sea and leaving only a narrow gap of open water between. Beacons stood at the extreme end of each, their lights still glimmering in the early light as the Cloud Scudder led the ships into port.

  Tania looked out at the small town, its seafront a tumble of tall black wharves and slatted drying huts, its streets narrow and twisting, its houses and shops of stone or half timber. The quayside was hung with fishing nets stretching out like spiderwebs over the cobbles. A flotilla of small fishing boats was gathered to one side of the harbor, the crews busy unloading the night’s catch while seagulls wheeled and screamed.

  The salt air had a strong sea tang to it and the scent drove Tania tumbling back to her childhood holidays in England. A green-and-white wooden chalet behind the sand dunes. A carousel and a games arcade on a stretch of cracked concrete above the beach. Ice cream cones. Fish and chips wrapped in paper. Vast golden sands at low tide, the sea a silvery glimmer on the horizon. Building sand castles with her dad. Searching for cockles on the sand flats before the long tide came sweeping in. Running through the surf, sand clotted richly between her toes.

  Such strong memories.

  Is that who I am really? Not Princess Tania of Faerie at all? Anita Palmer, only child of Clive and Mary Palmer of 19 Eddison Terrace, Camden, London. Was Dad right? Have I just been hypnotized by all this? Should I go back now and let all this fade away like a dream?

  “Tania!” Sancha’s voice dragged her back to reality. “Come quickly. The earl is worse. Eden is asking for you.”

  Earl Valentyne’s bed had been brought onto the deck of the quarantine ship. The crew would come nowhere near him, but Eden was at his side as Tania boarded the ship and ran across the deck.

  “What is it?” she asked. “What’s happened?”

  “I cannot rouse him!” cried Eden. She stared into Tania’s face with haunted eyes. “You know this ailment; what does this mean?”

  Tania looked down into the earl’s ravaged face. His skin was gray and had a sickly sheen to it. His deep-set eyes were closed, but his face was not peaceful. There was a tension around his eyes and mouth as if he was in pain.

  “I don’t know,” Tania said helplessly. “Where are Hopie and our mother?”

  “Belowdecks, tending the children.” Eden snatched at Tania’s hand, her fingernails digging into her flesh. “I fear he is dying. He cannot die. You must not let him die.” Her voice was almost hysterical now, her eyes pleading. Tania couldn’t bear to see her sister like this; she had only ever known Eden calm and steadfast.

  �
��I don’t know what to do,” Tania said, her voice shaking.

  Eden turned to the earl, her hands cradling his face, leaning over him so that her face was just above his. “My lord,” she cried, “do not leave me.”

  Close to panic, Tania ran to the hatch that led belowdecks. She shouted down, “Mother! Hopie! Come quickly!”

  She had returned to Faerie to try and help, but now it came to it—what use was she? None at all, she thought bitterly as Titania’s face appeared in the half darkness at the foot of the ladder. I’m useless.

  “What is it, Tania?” called the Queen.

  “The earl has fallen into some kind of coma,” she called down. “Eden thinks he’s dying.”

  “There’s nothing we can do,” called her mother. “Two of the little ones have also lapsed into unconsciousness. Hopie is doing all she can for them, but…” She didn’t need to finish the sentence.

  “It’s okay,” Tania called down. “I’ll think of something.”

  She ran back across the deck and pounded down the bouncing gangplank to the quayside.

  I have to find Oberon, she thought desperately. He has so much power. Surely he’ll be able to stop this.

  The King was standing on the quay with the earl marshal and Lord Brython. They were deep in discussion as Tania came running up.

  “Father, you have to come—now!” she said gasping, clutching at the King’s arm.

  He frowned at her. “Tania, be calm! What is the matter?”

  “Eden’s husband is dying!”

  “No!” exclaimed Cornelius. “Earl Valentyne dying? It cannot be so.”

  Tania looked into his horrified face. “Yes,” she said firmly. “It can.”

  “I shall come,” said the King. “My lords, see to our people. Have the townsfolk keep to their homes as we pass through. I would not have this sickness spread to the people of Rhyehaven. Ensure all pass through the town and onto the cliffs as swiftly as may be.”