by Frewin Jones
Tania looked around, hoping to see Connor waiting for them.
He wasn’t there.
Rathina pointed into the branches of the overhanging trees. “Birds sing,” she said. “Hark!”
Tania listened. Above the drone of the traffic she could hear starlings, their shrill voices crackling like electricity in the sycamores.
“Doubtless Cordelia would know what they speak of,” Rathina said. “It heartens me, Tania, to hear them. If birds live merrily in this place, then belike I shall grow accustomed to it, also…in time.”
“I expect you’re right,” said Tania. “Except that we haven’t got much time right now, not if we’re going to get the medicine and get back into Faerie by dawn.”
“Your friend is not here,” Rathina remarked. “What now?”
“He said he might not be able to get away to meet us,” said Tania. “I’ll ask for directions to his flat.”
She went back into the station, but the ticket office was shuttered up and there was no one about. She noticed a pay phone.
She walked over to it, thinking of her Mortal parents. I could give Mum and Dad a call.
And tell them what, exactly? Hi, Mum and Dad. I’m back. How are you? Yeah? Great! How’s Faerie? Hey, funny you should ask. You know that sniffle Dad had? Well, they’re calling it The Plague now; about fifty people have come down with it so far and the only thing that’s keeping them alive is…No! No! No!
It was a stupid idea. They’d want to know what was going on. She’d either have to lie to them or let them know the truth—and who would benefit from that? They’d want to see her, and she had no time to travel right across London to Camden. They’d want to try and help, and what in the world could they do? Nothing!
No. Calling her Mum and Dad wasn’t an option. It was heartbreaking to know they were so close but to be unable to go to them for advice. And if Oberon closed the ways between Faerie and the Mortal World, she might never see them again.
That was too terrible even to think about!
She turned away from the phone, fighting to control her emotions. A woman had come into the station and was buying a ticket at the machine. Tania went up to her. “Excuse me, sorry to bother you….”
She came out to where Rathina was still standing, doing her best to keep the woman’s directions in her head. Follow the road to the left. At the end take another left and carry on till you come to a right turn: It’s just an alley. There’s an estate at the far end. Make your way through it. At the end of the estate make another left, then it’s the third turn on your right.
“Look, I don’t think there’s any point in waiting for Connor,” she told her sister. “Let’s go straight to his place.” They headed along the road, Rathina keeping to the inside of the pavement, her shoulders hunching when a bus or a truck went past.
They turned left into a quiet street of detached mock Tudor houses set back behind wide front yards. The curbs were lined with cars, but there was far less traffic. They walked under the shade of dark-leaved rowan trees, the air filled with the scents of honeysuckle and purple-tipped buddleia.
Tania heard children’s voices. Ahead of them balloons floated on the ends of ribbons tied to a garden gate set between clipped privet.
“What are those colored spheres?” asked Rathina, her voice filled with wonder. She looked at Tania. “See how they dance in the air! Is it Mortal magic?”
Tania smiled. “No, it’s only helium,” she said. “They’re balloons. I think there’s some kind of kids’ party going on.”
An odd swishing, rattling sound came up quickly behind them. Tania turned in time to see a girl of maybe six or seven years old racing along the pavement toward them on inline skates. She was wearing a short, wide-skirted lilac dress that frothed with white lace and netting. She had a very intent look on her freckled face, and her arms were spread for balance.
“Excuse me!” she piped. “Fairy princess coming through!”
Swerving expertly and gathering speed, she passed the two sisters.
“Tania!” Rathina gasped as the little girl sped past. “Look! On your mercy, look! The child has wings!”
Rathina was right. Clipped to the back of the little girl’s party dress was a pair of gauzy fairy wings.
“They’re not real.” Tania laughed. “It’s a costume; they’re attached to the dress.”
The girl came to a sudden twirling halt, her fists on her hips. “They are too real,” she exclaimed. “I’m Polly the Party Fairy. Don’t you know anything?”
“Sorry,” Tania said, smiling. “I didn’t recognize you at first, Polly.”
Rathina stared at the girl in utter confusion. “Mortal children have no wings!” she said. “And yet…and yet…”
“It’s just make-believe, Rathina,” Tania said under her breath. “Play along with her.”
“I’m not Mortal!” said the girl. “I’m a fairy princess. Fairy princesses live for always.”
“Indeed they do, little one,” said Rathina, a smile of understanding spreading across her face. “We, too, are Faerie princesses.”
The little girl eyed her dubiously. “You don’t look like fairy princesses!” she said. “You look totally ordinary.”
“We’re in disguise,” Tania said. “We’re on a secret quest. You won’t give us away, will you?”
The little girl shook her head. “And fairy princesses always keep their word!” she added. “Are you coming to Rosie’s party? If you’re not invited, you can come with me. Rosie won’t mind.”
“We’d love to,” Tania said. “But we don’t have time. Secret quest, remember?”
The little girl shrugged. “Okay,” she said. “Bye.” She turned and scooted off, balancing with careless ease on her blades. She turned in at the open gateway with the balloons, where her mother was waiting for her. She gave them a final look. “Good luck with the quest,” she called. With a wave she disappeared between the hedges.
Rathina’s face was shining with delight. “She knew of Faerie!” she said. “You told me that Mortals did not know, did not believe—”
“Children believe all kinds of wonderful things,” Tania told her. “Everything’s possible when you’re seven years old.” She sighed. “But then you hit an age where you decide its cooler not to believe in anything at all.” She slipped her hand into Rathina’s and they walked together along the pavement. “It’s called being grown-up.”
Through the gap in the privet they saw about twenty children, most in party costume, laughing and playing games on a long lawn. The house beyond was shrouded in wisteria, the heavy clusters of white flowers hanging over the open doorway. Some women were bringing out trays of food and drink, and a clown was making balloon animals.
“They are as merry as Faerie children,” murmured Rathina. “I had never thought that Mortal children would know such joy!”
“I told you, this world isn’t as bad as you think.”
“Indeed not,” Rathina said thoughtfully.
Tania led her across the road. They were looking now for a right turn.
They came to it after about fifty yards. They turned into it and found themselves walking along a narrow alley between high wooden fences draped with russet ivy.
Beyond the alley everything was different. There were fewer trees and the houses were in terraced rows now, looking shabby and uncared for.
They crossed the road and headed into a large estate of gray housing blocks and concrete walkways.
“I like this not,” said Rathina. “’Tis a sad place.”
“It is a bit grim,” Tania admitted, looking at the litter and the scrubby patches of struggling grass. They crossed an open space and walked into a narrow passageway between two housing blocks.
“Sister, all is not well,” Rathina murmured, pausing suddenly, her dark eyes glittering.
“What?”
“Danger. Close at hand.”
“The thing you sensed before, is it still with us?” Tania asked.
Rathina frowned. “I do not speak of that,” she said. “Our peril is Mortal—and it lies ahead.”
“What?”
“They show themselves!”
Two young men stepped from a covered doorway farther along the passageway. They both wore jackets with the hoods drawn so their faces were in shadow.
“Got the time, love?” called one of them, swaggering forward.
“We need to get out of here,” Tania said, catching hold of Rathina’s wrist and pulling her back the way they had come.
“Don’t go, darling,” called the other.
“What do they want of us?” asked Rathina. “They reek of bad intent!”
“Our money, probably,” said Tania. “Come on.”
Tania turned, but two more young men had emerged behind them.
Both ends of the passageway were blocked.
Grinning, the four men closed in.
“Evening, girls.” The young man’s mouth stretched in an evil smirk. “Glad you could join us—and I thought this was going to be a boring night.”
XIII
Tania gazed into the cruel faces of the young men and forgot that she was a princess of Faerie, a warrior maiden who had fought the Gray Knights of Lyonesse, the slayer of the Sorcerer King, seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, walker between the worlds. In an instant she became a frightened, cornered sixteen-year-old girl.
“You have to pay a toll to come through here, girls,” said the leader, a lad with a face like raw meat.
Rathina twisted her wrist loose from Tania’s grip and drew herself up to her full height, her eyes flashing as she stared at the boy.
“I am a princess of Faerie and pay a toll to no man.” She looked him up and down. “Nor neither to any passing goblin, as it would seem here.”
“She’s calling you names, Robbie,” said the boy’s sidekick, a skinny weasel whose eyes peered out from an eruption of acne.
“Watch your mouth, girlie, or you’ll get a slapping,” Robbie said with a scowl.
“You’re making a big mistake, boys,” Tania said loudly, glancing back and forth between the two pairs of lads. “Just let us go and everything will be fine.”
“No can do,” said Robbie, putting his hand out. “Pay the toll.”
Rathina’s voice sang out through the passageway. “Get you gone from here, goblin-spawn, or the wrath of the daughters of Oberon and Titania will teach you better manners.”
“You talk funny!” croaked the spotty sidekick. “You mental or something?”
“I asked you girls nicely,” said Robbie. “Now I’m going to have to insist.”
The four boys were only a couple of yards from Tania and Rathina by now.
Suddenly Robbie had a knife in his hand.
Tania eyed the sliver of steel. It half kills me just to touch metal, she thought. What’s going to happen to me if I get stabbed?
“You fool!” said Rathina. “Do you not know that I am immune to the bane of Isenmort?” She sprang forward, the side of her hand chopping down on the boy’s wrist before he had the chance to pull away.
She swept her other arm low and caught the knife as it fell from his fingers. Her shoulder hammered into his chest, sending him staggering backward with a grunt.
Tania followed her sister, leaping at the skinny weasel, thrusting her elbow into his stomach, doubling him up. She heard angry shouts from behind and saw that the two other boys had also drawn knives.
“Rathina, let’s get out of here!” Tania shouted.
“I have but half begun!” yelled Rathina, advancing on Robbie with his knife tight in her fist. “Look into the eyes of your nemesis, you stinking gutter filth,” she snarled. “May the blood putrefy in your veins! I shall split you open like a spatchcock fowl!”
Robbie backed off, his expression showing more anger than fear.
“They get the point,” Tania said. “Let’s go!”
She grabbed Rathina’s arm. As they ran out into the open at the far end of the passageway, Tania heard Robbie’s voice.
“This ain’t over! I ain’t done with you!”
Rathina turned and pulled back, apparently eager to continue the confrontation.
“No,” Tania said. “We’ve got more important things to do, remember?”
Rathina grinned at her. “The warriors of this land are weak and witless,” she said. “We should have hurled them through the dark gates of Abred!”
“Those weren’t warriors. They were just a bunch of thugs.”
“And what is this puny thing, a peeler of fruit?” She held the knife up to her face. “A weapon to strike fear into an enemy, indeed!” She laughed.
“Get rid of it, Rathina,” said Tania.
“So be it.” Rathina tossed the knife casually over her shoulder. “It is a feeble tool, and I would trade a dozen so for one fine crystal Faerie sword.”
Tania looked back toward the shadowy slot of the passageway. “Let’s hope we won’t need to,” she said, certain that malevolent eyes were watching them.
They had taken Robbie and his gang by surprise. If they were to meet up with that bunch of thugs again, she had the feeling she and Rathina would not get away quite so easily.
It was early evening as Tania and Rathina mounted the three stone steps that led to the front door of 13 Garner Road, one of a row of terraced houses in a small backstreet. Tania pressed the top of five bells. A scrap of paper under the button had three names written on it: Estabrook, Diss, Novak.
A pale young man with carrot-colored hair and a skimpy ginger beard answered the door.
“You’d be Anita, yes?” he said. “I’m Peter. Come in. Connor said I should make you some tea while you wait; he’ll be here soon.”
“A cup of tea would be great,” said Tania as she stepped cautiously over the metal threshold. “This is Rathina. I hope we’re not being a nuisance.”
“Not at all.”
Peter led them along a dim-lit hallway and up several flights of stairs till they came to a door that opened into a square room cluttered with unmatched furniture. There was a threadbare couch, worn-out armchairs, a desk, a low table with a television set, and a sideboard; and every surface, including the carpet, seemed to be covered in magazines and crumpled, discarded clothing and old pizza boxes, forgotten coffee mugs and books and sheaves of paper and odd, solo sneakers.
“That’s the communal room,” Peter called from another room, obviously the kitchen. “Clear a space and make yourselves at home.”
Rathina turned in a slow circle, perusing the shambles that surrounded them. “Are all households in the Mortal World thus?” she asked.
“All households shared by three lads are, pretty much,” said Tania. She lifted a pile of magazines off the couch and gestured to Rathina to sit down.
A couple of minutes later Peter came back into the room with three mugs in his hands. “It’s only bag, I’m afraid,” he said, sitting on a pile of clothes in the armchair.
“That’s fine,” said Tania, handing a mug to Rathina.
Her sister sipped the tea cautiously. “Hmm,” she said, quickly putting the mug down. “’Tis a most curious brew, forsooth.”
Peter gave her an odd look, but before he had time to say anything a cheerful yell came echoing up the stairs. “Is she here yet?”
Tania recognized Connor’s voice. “Yes, I am,” she called back.
“Sorry I’m late,” Connor said as he came into the living room. “Has Peter been keeping you entertained?”
“He has,” said Tania, smiling. “Nice to see you.” Connor was tall and broad-shouldered with fine blond hair and a quick smile. Apart from his hair being shorter, he looked no different from when their families had last met up eight months ago.
“Likewise,” said Connor. He moved toward Rathina, his hand extended. “I’m Connor,” he said.
“This is Rathina,” Tania said. “She’s a friend from school. I hope you don’t mind her tagging along.”
; “Not at all,” said Connor. “The more, the merrier.”
“Merry, sirrah?” Rathina said. “I think not, by my faith.” She stood up and took his hand. “We have come far to seek your wisdom and aid, Master Connor.” She turned to look at Tania. “And now to business,” she said. “Will you lay out our plight to this Mortal Healer, sister, or shall I?”
Connor gave Rathina a puzzled smile. “Sorry, have I walked in on the middle of a Lord of the Rings role-playing game?” he asked. “If so, who’s who? And has Gollum been allocated yet? I’d really like to be Gollum.”
“I’ll make you some tea, Gollum,” said Peter. Connor followed him into the kitchen.
“Rathina!” exclaimed Tania. “That wasn’t the way to do it at all. You can’t just blurt out stuff like that.”
“He must be told the truth,” Rathina said, unperturbed. “Or did you intend to ensnare this Connor with trickery?”
“Well, no,” said Tania. “But I was going to…” She paused. “Okay, I’m not sure exactly what I was going to do, but what you just did, that wasn’t it!”
Rathina came up to her and laid her hands on the sides of her face. “We have no time for deception or guile, sister. We must secure this man’s aid and return to Faerie as swift as may be.” She looked deep into Tania’s eyes. “Have you given thought to how we are to return? We must enter Faerie as we left it—within the bounds of the Summer Palace—for we will not be allowed to pass the guards with a Mortal in our midst, not while the terror of the plague manifests itself.”
“We’ll have to go back to Beachy Head,” said Tania. “We can worry about how later. First of all we have to get Connor to help.” She pulled away. “Please, Rathina, let me do the talking, yes?”
“As you wish.” Rathina sat down. “But give thought to this, sister. Something passed through from Faerie in our wake, and the more time that is wasted spinning beguiling tales to enchant yon Healer, the more likely it is that the dark thing will find us.”
“I know,” Tania said. “Believe me, I know.”
The kitchen door opened. Peter emerged. He walked to an armchair, grabbing a jacket. “Gotta love you and leave you, girls,” he said. “Have a nice evening.” And with that he went pounding down the stairs.