by Frewin Jones
“Perhaps his fear of you is genuine,” said Eden. “Or it may be he has some darker motive. I know not. But do you not see the craft of it, Tania? He attacks your very nature: the fact that you are half Faerie and half Mortal. He has swayed several members of the Conclave of Earls. Lord Brython and Lady Kernow and the earl marshal and the marchioness are staunch in your defense, but Aldritch has won over Lady Mornamere and Lord Herne and also Lord Tristan of Udwold. Fleance is young, and Aldritch works hard on his fears; I believe he will turn against you. We have adjourned to consider our positions, but Aldritch will call a vote when we reconvene. The King and Queen have no vote in the Conclave—and if Fleance sides with Aldritch, the earls will be equally divided.”
“Which means what?”
“Which means that the Protocol of Prydein will be enforced.”
“Eden! I have no idea what that means!”
“It means a ruby and a sapphire will be placed into a goblet and covered with a cloth,” Eden told her. “Then our mother will put her hand blindly into the goblet and pick one of the gemstones. The ruby will condemn you; the sapphire will save you.”
“And if I’m condemned?”
“Banishment—for all time.”
A cold anger ran through Tania. “Fine,” she said. “Perhaps that’s exactly what should happen. If everyone here is so scared of me, maybe I should just go home!”
Eden studied her face. “You would abandon us?”
“That’s not it at all. But Eden…what if Aldritch is right? What if I am…dangerous—without meaning to be? My dad brought this illness into Faerie, but I brought him, didn’t I? Which means this is all down to me.”
Eden nodded. “Indeed,” she said. “That is true.”
Tania looked at her in surprise. She’d been expecting her sister to say the opposite—that it wasn’t her fault, that she shouldn’t blame herself.
“Then you agree that I should go away,” Tania said quietly.
“Yes, I do, and that right quickly, before this day is over and the earls of Faerie close the portals between the worlds. But I do not suggest you should go into banishment. Choose what Lord Aldritch may say, I do not believe that the Healer Hollin has any powers to cure the spread of the disease. Lithomancy is a poor way of attracting the attention of the spirits; he will not succeed.”
“Sancha said the same thing. So what do you think I should do?”
“Seek a cure,” Eden said simply.
“How? Where? I don’t know anything about medicine. If Hopie can’t come up with anything, how do you expect me to find a cure?”
Eden looked steadily at her. “It is a Mortal disease,” she said. “Find a Mortal remedy. Do Mortals not use medicines? Are there no Healers in the Mortal World?”
Tania stared at her. “Yes, of course there are, but even if…” Something suddenly hit her, something so obvious that she couldn’t believe it had never occurred to her before. She had been floundering around for days now, wanting to help but not knowing how—and all the time the answer had been right in front of her!
“Connor!” she gasped. “Connor could help.”
“Who is Connor?”
“He’s the son of friends of my mum and dad: Connor Estabrook. He’s a first-year medical student. He could tell me what antibiotics I should use; he might even be able to get them for me.” She was thinking hard now. “I’d have to come up with a plausible explanation, of course. But it is possible.” She got up, throwing her arms around her sister. “Eden! I’m so stupid. I could have done this ages ago. Why didn’t you suggest it before now?”
“I had hopes that a cure might be found in Faerie,” said Eden. “In truth, Tania, who can say what the effects of Mortal medicines might be on Faerie folk? They may have no effect—or they may do greater harm.”
“Don’t say that!”
“Keep in mind, too, that medicine alone may not be enough,” said Eden. “Despite the dangers that Mortals pose to our world, you may need to bring a Mortal Healer to Faerie to administer the medicine.”
“I can’t do that,” said Tania. “You know how my gift works: I can only take people from world to world if I love them. It works fine with Edric and with my mum and dad and with you and Hopie and the others, but I can’t bring Connor Estabrook through. I don’t love him. I had a kind of silly crush on him when I was ten and he was thirteen, but these days I see him only about twice a year.”
“I have something that may aid you,” Eden said. She felt inside her gown and drew out a slender white crystal bracelet. “This bracelet is made of yearnstone,” she said. “It has a property that guides it always to the place where it was formed.”
Tania took the delicate bracelet. It felt warm, almost alive against her skin.
“If a Mortal were to wear this bracelet and if you were to take their hand and step through into Faerie, then because of the powers of yearnstone, that Mortal would be drawn through with you. And while the bracelet is tight about the Mortal’s wrist, you will be able to lead him back and forth between the Realms many times—so long as he holds fast to you. But beware: If your hand should lose its grip during the passage, the Mortal will be trapped between the worlds.”
“Thank you,” Tania said. “I understand.” She gazed at the bracelet. “I should go now,” she said. “Our father said he would close off Faerie from the Mortal World at dawn tomorrow. That gives me only a few hours.”
“It is so,” said Eden. “But you must depart in secrecy—and I would not have you travel alone into the Mortal World. As the Faerie part of your spirit has grown, so you have become vulnerable to the curse of Isenmort, and I have no black amber to protect you from its poison.”
Tania remembered the time when she had first noticed her sensitivity to metal—the way it had made her fingers tingle when she touched it. The odd allergy had grown gradually more fierce until she had become as allergic to metal as any other man, woman, or child in Faerie. The bite of Isenmort was poison to her—and Eden was right: The Mortal World teemed with metal objects.
“Rathina is immune to metal,” said Tania. “She would go with me. She’s fascinated by the idea of the Mortal World. But I can’t get to her. There are guards on the door. They’d never let me pass.”
Eden smiled gently. “Not all the ways of the palace are visible to the wardens of Faerie,” she said. “Come. I shall show you one of the delights of your childhood.”
Puzzled, Tania followed her into the bedchamber. Eden stood by the nightstand, facing the wall with one hand raised. She spoke softly.
The nightstand began to shudder and to move jerkily forward, pivoting on one back corner.
“What’s happening?” Tania asked.
Moments later she saw a low section of the wall open inward, pushing the nightstand forward. Tania found herself gazing into a small dark entranceway festooned with cobwebs.
“What is that?” Tania asked, crouching to look into the narrow passageway revealed through the hole.
“Do you not remember?” Eden asked. “I created these passageways for you and your sisters when you were little so that you could move from room to room in secret. You, Rathina, Zara, and Cordelia thought it a great game—and all the passages led to—”
“The Well Room!” said Tania. “We used to meet there. I remember! Oh, Eden! I remember!”
Eden picked up a candle from the nightstand. She passed her hand over it and a small leaf of flame sprang up. “Go to Rathina,” she said. “Follow the passage to the left. You will soon see the entrance to her rooms. Go with her to the Well Room and enter the Mortal World together.”
“I will,” said Tania. “But I need a few things first.” If she sidestepped into the Mortal World from Veraglad Palace, she would be miles from home. She’d need some money—or a means of easily getting her hands on money.
Her old canvas shoulder bag was lying by the side of the bed. She had used it to transport things back and forth between the worlds when she had been revealing a few of
the lesser secrets of London life to her sisters. She rummaged quickly in the bag. Yes! The plastic wallet that had her ID pass and her bank debit card in it, along with a donor card and a few other bits and pieces. She’d been squirreling part of her allowance away into her bank account for months. A handy ATM and she’d have money on demand.
Tania hooked the bag over her shoulder. “There’s one other thing before I go,” she said. “I had a strange dream last night—I think it might mean something. Something important.”
“Tell me.”
Tania explained her dream to Eden, trying her best to get the details right. She could remember only a few broken fragments of the song, but she was able to describe the sadness and melancholy of it. And she remembered vividly Cordelia’s last words. If you would cure us all, seek the Lost Caer…
“The Song of the Lost Caer,” mused Eden. “I have never heard of such a lyric. And yet it is clear that the dream had weight and purpose; it did not come idly to you in this place and at this time.” Her brows knitted. “The Faerie Almanac may hold the answer.”
“What’s that?”
“A book. It recounts the history of this Realm,” said Eden. “It lies in Sancha’s library in the Royal Palace. Its narrative reaches back to the Great Awakening. Perhaps it will contain some overlooked or unregarded text that will lead me to knowledge of this Lost Caer—and thus to a cure for the plague.”
“Will you be allowed to go?” Tania asked dubiously.
“None shall know of my departure,” said Eden. “I shall use an Altier Glamour: I shall take on the form of a swallow and skim unseen the warm airs northward.” She looked keenly at Tania. “And let us pray I find what I seek. But now, get you gone, Tania, and my blessings upon you. Go!”
Tania took the candle from Eden, giving her white-haired sister a final look before she ducked and pushed into the narrow passageway.
Holding the candle out ahead of her, Tania followed the cramped passageway until she came to a wooden panel set deep in the stonework. The panel sprang open at a touch into a sunlit bedchamber.
Rathina was sitting bolt upright on her bed, her hands folded on her knees, staring straight at Tania with a wry smile on her face.
“I am ready!” Rathina said, jumping up. “The Mortal Realm, ho!”
“You knew I was coming?”
“Indeed,” Rathina said with a smile. “Eden sent her voice to whisper your plan in my mind but a few moments ago. Come, make way. We must go, you and I. Into the Mortal World to seek a cure for the plague before all the pathways between the worlds are closed.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” asked Tania.
“Who better?” said Rathina, her eyes shining. “I have no fear of the touch of Isenmort. And if it comes to it, I can fight as well as any man. Who else would you have with you?” A fierce light burned in her eyes. “And I would see the Mortal World, Tania; I would learn its secrets. Come! We must go somewhere where it is safe for you to step between the worlds.”
Rathina took the candle and led the way through the passages until they came to a flight of steep rough-hewn stone steps that led down in a tight spiral. Tania’s shoulders brushed the walls as she descended in Rathina’s wake.
“These ways were intended for small children,” Rathina said. “Are you able to pass through?”
“Just about.”
Down and down plunged the winding stairway. Tania traced her hands along the cold stones of the wall as she went—the rough, uneven surfaces bringing back memories of nocturnal adventures with her sisters.
They came at last into a small circular room, into which led more stairways and corridors.
Rathina turned, lifting the candle and looking to Tania’s face. “Alas, we are without weapons,” she said. “I had no opportunity to secure swords or knives.”
“We won’t need them where we’re going,” said Tania. “In any case, if we were caught with swords on us, we’d be marched straight to the nearest police station.”
“Police station?”
“I’ll explain later.” She looked into Rathina’s face. “Are you sure about this?”
Rathina smiled and nodded.
Tania held out her hand. “Stand beside me, then,” she said.
Rathina took her hand. “How does it feel to travel between the worlds?” she asked. There was a hint of anxiety in the excitement that filled her voice.
“Wait a couple of seconds, and you’ll know.” Tania squeezed her sister’s hand. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
“Go.”
She concentrated her mind as she stepped forward with Rathina. Then she made the side step.
They emerged into brilliant sunshine. Tania threw her hand over her eyes, dazzled by the sudden light.
She heard Rathina give a yelp and felt her hand slip away.
“Rathina?”
She squinted against the brightness—and realized that they had emerged in the Mortal World on the brink of a cliff. A moment later and she felt the ground giving way beneath her. Her feet slipped on long grass and she fell hard onto her stomach.
Then there was nothing beneath her. She was clinging to the cliff edge, and her fingers were losing their grip.
Part Two
Mortal Children Have No Wings
XI
“Quick! Grab them!”
“Have you got her?”
“Yes. You get the other one!”
Tania felt strong hands grip her wrists, and the next second she was being pulled away from the cliff edge. Her arms felt as if they were being wrenched out of their sockets as she was dragged through the long grass.
“Rathina?” she gasped. “Rathina?”
“Your pal’s fine,” said a voice. “Are you two out of your minds? If we hadn’t looked around at the last second, you could both have gone over the edge!”
“Hey! Calm down, girl! I’m trying to help you.” This came from a second voice, a little way off. Tania squirmed onto her back and finally managed to wrest her arms loose from the hands that held her.
She scrambled to her feet. A few yards away, a young man was grappling with Rathina—and not getting the best of it. He was on his back and she was sitting astride his chest, her hands going for his throat while he fought to fend her off.
“Rathina!” Tania called. “It’s all right. They aren’t attacking us! They’re only trying to help.”
Rathina lifted her head, tossing her dark hair out of her eyes.
“None may lay hands on a princess!” she shouted. “I’ll beat the silly knave to a paste!”
“Rathina! No!” Tania ran to her sister and pulled her off the young man.
He staggered up, staring at the two of them in disbelief. “What the hell was that for?” he yelled. “I just saved you from falling off the cliff, you head case!”
Tania looked at the two young men: They were teenagers, maybe two or three years older than she was, dressed in jeans and T-shirts, one with long, curly blond hair and the other with dark hair that hung in his eyes.
They were just a couple of ordinary, everyday lads that you might meet in the street or in a café or at a party anywhere in London…or anywhere in the world, for that matter. A pair of quite nice-looking, totally normal mortal boys.
“Sorry about that,” Tania said. “She’s a bit sensitive about people grabbing hold of her.”
“Oh, right!” said the dark-haired boy. “No problem, then. I’ll let her kill herself next time!”
“Sorry,” Tania said. “Really. Sorry. We didn’t realize how close to the edge we were.”
“How could you not see?” asked the dark-haired boy. “Are you totally blind or what? And what’s with the fancy-dress costumes?”
Tania had known that their clothes would stand out in the Mortal World. She was still wearing the simple gray Faerie dress, and Rathina had on a scarlet gown embroidered with heavy gold thread at the bodice and on the sleeves and around the hem.
Rathina glared
at the boy. “Do not speak to the Princess Tania in such a way, knave, or I’ll box your ears till your head rings like the Bells of Tamarine!”
“Rathina, remember where you are!” said Tania.
Rathina stared at her for a moment, then her face brightened. “The Mortal Realm!” she exclaimed. “Of course. My apologies, Tania. I will seek to behave more appropriately from this time forth.”
The blond boy laughed. “From this time forth? Oh, I get it. You’re part of the medieval pageant, down in Eastbourne, yeah?” His eyes were on Tania as he gestured toward Rathina. “Your friend’s got the language down pat, but you need to work on ye old-ie fashioned-ie speech-ie a bit, my lady.”
“And you should lose the shoulder bag, too,” said the dark-haired boy, nodding toward the canvas bag that was slung over Tania’s shoulder. “Not exactly a Middle Age accessory, is it?”
A pageant in Eastbourne? Excellent! And there’s a train station in Eastbourne that will take us right into London.
“Good tip,” said Tania. “Look, thanks for saving us. We were stupid to get so near the edge. And yes, we are part of the pageant. We just came up here to have a look around. Pretty dangerous, huh?”
“It can be if you don’t watch where you’re going,” said the blond boy. “My name’s Oliver; this is Luke.”
“I’m Tania; this is my sister Rathina.”
“Sisters, eh?” said Oliver. “You don’t look much alike.”
“We are sisters, indeed,” said Rathina. She looked the two boys up and down. “Your clothes are very strange,” she said. “But doubtless there is much I will find curious in your world.”
Oliver gave her a puzzled look.
“She takes her part very seriously,” Tania said quickly.
“Whatever,” Luke murmured under his breath.
Rathina gave him a hard look but said nothing more.
“If you girls don’t have anything planned, how about we all go for a cup of coffee or something back in Eastbourne? My car is just over the rise back there.”