by Frewin Jones
“No more, my lord of Weir!” the King roared, half rising from his throne, his face dark with wrath. “You will cast no doubts upon the word of the Princess Eden!”
“Oberon, take care!” cried Titania, stepping forward to support the King as he stumbled. “You are weak, my lord.”
“Aye, but not so weak as to suffer my own children to be malspoken thus!” said the King. “Nay, not even by so puissant a lord as Aldritch of Weir.”
Lord Aldritch rose to his full height, his eyes disdainful. “Will you not proclaim the fate decreed upon the Princess Tania by the Conclave of Earls, your grace?” he said, his voice cold and haughty.
“You cannot do that, Father!” cried Rathina. “The earls did not know the truth of the matter!”
“Indeed they did not, my lord Aldritch,” said Titania.
“I will not do it,” said the King. “The verdict was false!”
“So be it,” said Aldritch. “Then I depart this court forthwith, and all my folk with me.” He turned and shouted, “Captain Chanticleer! Come forth!” He looked at Tania, and there was hatred in his eyes. “You are the wellspring of turpitude and vice,” he snarled. “Choose what your sister says, I have no doubt but that you do us great harm! Were it not for you, Tania Aurealis, my son would still be alive! You are a sorcerer and a corrupter of men’s hearts—and I will have nothing more to do with a court that seeks to defend you!” His voice rose. “I repudiate this court. I quit this place! Never more shall Weir show fealty to the House of Aurealis!” He glared at Oberon. “Your days as my overlord are ended!” He strode to the door, leaving a shocked silence in his wake; a silence broken only by Connor’s subdued voice.
“Wow! I should have brought some tranquilizers with me,” he murmured. “That guy is off his head!”
Tania stared after the lord of Weir. She had never thought of him as a friend, but to hear him blame her for Gabriel’s death! How could he think such a thing? She hadn’t enticed Gabriel Drake to do the things he had done; she had been his victim, not his evil seducer! And the fact that he would accuse Eden of lying to cover for her was just as bad.
She saw Edric appear at the open doorway to the Throne Room.
“My lord?”
“Get you to our quarters, Captain Chanticleer. Tell Master Hollin and his folk to prepare for immediate departure. We will board his ship ere the sun is a hand’s breadth higher in the sky, and we will turn forever our backs upon this place!”
Edric stood unmoving as Aldritch stalked up to him.
“Well, captain? Are my instructions unclear?”
“No, my lord…but…” He glanced past Lord Aldritch and his eyes met Tania’s. She almost ran to him, but then he bowed his head. “No, my lord,” he said. He marched out of sight, leaving Tania feeling as if her heart had been clawed out of her chest.
The Throne Room door slammed on the lord of Weir.
“Your grace, what peril does this thing foreshadow?” asked Cornelius. “Is Weir now our enemy?”
“Nay, brother,” said the King, sitting wearily back into the throne, Titania’s hands on his arm to help him. “We need not fear Lord Aldritch. Let him cool his wrath upon the open ocean. Wiser counsels may prevail when our present concerns are done.” He turned his eyes on Eden. “And as to that, what more can you tell us, my daughter?”
Connor moved closer to Tania. “What just happened?” he said. “Tania, what kind of place have you brought me to?”
Tania looked at him. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her soul weighed down with contrition for the harm she had done him. “But I need to hear what Eden has to say.”
“Tania spoke to me of a dream that came to her, my lord,” Eden told the King. “I believe the dream contained a riddle, the unraveling of which may reveal a possible cure to the plague. And it seemed that the answer lay in the enigma of the Lost Caer.”
“Was there ever such a castle?” asked Cornelius. “I thought it but a myth.”
“As did we all, my lord,” said Eden. “And I concede that my search among the archives uncovered no reference to the Lost Caer.” She turned again to the King. “But it seemed to me that mayhap the most ancient texts might hold a clue to our woes, hidden somewhere in the days before days.”
“The days before days?” said Rathina. “Do you mean in the times before the Great Awakening? Surely no texts exist that can tell of events from before the coming of our father to Fortrenn Quay?”
“Nay, none do,” agreed Eden. “Not in the Royal Library. But I discovered a brief text in the most ancient book of the Faerie Almanac. It speaks of the Helan Archaia and says that it hides a great, forbidden secret.” She looked at the King. “My lord, do you know the meaning of this?”
“I do,” said the King. “Although it is a thing known to few others.” He took a long breath. “None now living can pierce the veil that was drawn across Faerie before the Great Awakening,” he said. “But it is known to some few lords of this Realm—Earl Valentyne among them—that a place exists where it is said that such prohibited knowledge lies hidden. This place is the Hall of Archives—the Helan Archaia—a great stone tower at the heart of Caer Regnar Naal.”
“I, too, have heard of this place,” said Cornelius. “Although it has not been spoken of for millennia and then only in awed whispers. But the secrets within cannot be learned, if memory serves, for the chamber is protected by a great door of Isenmort, fashioned in the deeps of time and encircled with enchantments so that even black amber is no panacea to its venom.”
“It is so,” said Oberon. “The Isenmort Portal cannot be opened by any man or woman Faerie born.”
“I have no fear of Isenmort!” Rathina declared, stepping forward. “If this room exists, then let me go there. I will open the Hall of Archives!”
“The door is too heavy for a single person to open it,” said the King. “The task is beyond you, Rathina, even were I to sanction it.”
“There must be another way,” said Tania. She looked from Oberon to Eden. “Can’t you use your Mystic Arts to get it open?”
“Against Isenmort?” said Eden. “Nay, sister, that is not possible.”
Tania stared from face to face, seeing defeat in everyone’s eyes. Was a locked door of iron really going to bar their way to a knowledge that could save the whole of Faerie?
A quiet, trembling voice broke the dismal silence. “Could two people do it?” asked Connor.
“Aye, mayhap,” said the King.
“Then I volunteer,” said Connor.
Tania could see the fear in his face. “Connor, no!” she said. “You don’t have to do this.”
He gave a wan smile. “I might as well make myself useful.”
The King frowned. “This would be a strange happenstance indeed,” he murmured. “That a Mortal man should aid us so?”
“Can I just know one thing for certain?” Connor said. “Am I ever going to get back home?”
“The ways between the worlds have been shut,” said the King. “You have my pity, Mortal, for I see now that you and your kind are innocent in this matter—but there is no power in Faerie to open the portals again.”
“Thanks,” Connor said heavily. “I just needed to know for sure.” He took a long breath. “So? How dangerous will it be to help with this door?”
“There is no danger to you, Master Connor,” said Eden. “I will bear you and Rathina hence on the horse of air. And the bite of Isenmort will not harm you, of that I can promise.”
“Connor is only here because of me,” said Tania. “I have to go with him.” She turned to Eden. “How soon can we leave?”
“Most soon, to be sure,” said Eden. “But I must first go to my chamber and commune for a brief time with the spirits. I have demanded much from them of late, and I must give thanks.” She turned and ran quickly to the door, pushing it open and disappearing into the corridor.
Connor turned and smiled bleakly at Tania. “You were always getting me into trouble even when we were kids
,” he said, but the crack in his voice betrayed his emotions. “I just wish I’d had time to say good-bye to my folks.”
Tania swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be,” he said. “My choice, remember?”
Tears burned behind her eyes, but she could think of nothing more to say.
Tania sat on a narrow window bench in the Throne Room. The plague came from this world! Her Mortal mother and father had been condemned and sent out of Faerie for something that had nothing to do with them—and now she would never see them again. And there was Connor, too. She’d persuaded him to come here to help, and now he was trapped in Faerie for the rest of his life.
But had it been pointless to bring him here?
We need him to open the Isenmort door, she thought. Sometimes it’s as if there’s some kind of mind at work behind everything that happens.
She looked toward the King. Hopie and Sancha were here, persuaded temporarily to leave Cerulean Hall now that the truth about the disease was known.
When they had arrived, Hopie had put her arms around Tania and kissed her. “I am sorry,” she had said wearily. “I was too swift to seek scapegoats. I am glad Master Clive was not to blame.”
Sancha had taken her hand. “You should not have gone to the Mortal World without telling us,” she said. “We would have aided you.”
“I didn’t want you getting into trouble,” Tania had told her.
Now the two sisters were by the throne with their mother. Hopie held a wooden bowl and was offering a spoon to the King’s lips. Oberon was slumped in the throne, now seeming more exhausted than ever. The Queen held his hands, giving him what support and comfort she could.
But for how much longer? Tania wondered. There had to be a breaking point—even for someone as powerful as her Faerie father—and what would happen to all the people he was protecting when his strength finally ran out?
Tania turned away and gazed from the high window. She saw that several horsemen were leaving the palace, followed by a line of foot travelers. The small group was wending its way along the road that led down toward the harbor of Rhyehaven. She was in a tower high above the departing men, but she knew who they were. Lord Aldritch was on the lead horse, Edric riding at his shoulder and Aldritch’s small retinue following close behind—all dressed in black.
Walking along after the horsemen was Hollin the Healer, his yellow robes easy to make out even from that distance, trailed by his green-clad acolytes. As Tania watched, Hollin turned sharply—as though sensing her eyes upon him. His head tilted toward the tower. She could not make out the details of his face, but she felt such malice coming from him that she drew back from the window, her heart thudding in her chest.
She rested her forehead against cool stone for a few moments, letting the palpitations and the unease subside. When she looked down again, the troop was farther away, and Hollin was no longer looking at her.
Lord Aldritch was making good on his threat. He was leaving the palace and leading his people to the harbor to take the ship and return to his Earldom. And he was taking Edric with him.
“Good-bye, my love,” Tania whispered, her breath misting the windowpane. She looked away again, unable to bear the sight of Edric riding away from her—perhaps forever.
She closed her eyes, lifting her hands to her burning face.
“Tania? Why are you crying? You should be pleased that it wasn’t your dad who brought the infection here.”
Tania wiped a sleeve across her cheeks and looked up at Connor. “I am,” she said. “But look what I’ve done to you!”
“I’m pretty adaptable,” he said. “And who needs electricity, anyway?” He gave a fake smile. “Actually, it doesn’t seem real at the moment. When the truth hits me, I’ll probably want to strangle you. Will that be okay?”
“That’ll be fine,” Tania said. “I deserve it.”
Rathina approached. “You will be made most welcome in our Realm, Master Connor,” she said. “Many are the delights that Faerie can offer.” She turned to Tania. “And I am glad for you, that your Mortal father did not do this harm to us. But I dread this news with all my heart.” She grimaced. “If not from the Mortal World, then how has this thing come to Faerie? And how are we to defeat it?”
“Not with antibiotics, that’s for sure,” said Connor.
And if Eden is right and all of Faerie is infected, how will the King manage to protect everyone? And if only some can be saved, how is he going to choose?
The door to the Throne Room opened and Eden glided in. Tania noticed that she was carrying Connor’s rubber flashlight in one hand and a leather satchel in the other.
Tania, Connor, and Rathina walked back to the throne.
Hopie and Sancha stood up as Eden approached the King.
Eden handed the flashlight to Connor. “I believe this Mortal tool will aid you as much where we are going as any light that I might conjure,” she said.
“We’re going somewhere dark, then?” said Connor.
“Aye, Mortal, that we are,” said Rathina. “Dark and deep, from what I have heard of Caer Regnar Naal!”
Eden gave the satchel to Rathina. “In here is food and water,” she said. “I know not how long we may need to stay in the Caer, and fresh provisions may be hard to come by.”
“A wise precaution,” said Rathina, hefting the bag onto her shoulder.
“All is now in readiness,” said Eden. “The enchantments are cast. We must depart.” She bowed to her father and mother. “With your leave I will remain in Regnar Naal with the others and see that no harm comes to them in that forsaken place.”
“No, daughter,” said Titania. “That you cannot do.”
Tania looked sharply at her Faerie mother.
“The King would have you bring succor to our people,” Titania explained to Eden. “Once you have taken Tania and Rathina and the Mortal boy to the Caer, you must depart. We would have you use your powers to quarter the Realm as swift as you may, seeking out all the sick that you can find and swaddling them in the Gildensleep.”
“Mother, I do not have such power as this would need,” said Eden.
“The King and I will loan you ours,” said Titania. “The strain will be great, but we cannot abandon our people.”
“And I will fortify the King and Queen with such strengthening elixirs as I can brew,” added Hopie. “Sancha will aid me.”
“Indeed, I will,” said Sancha.
“One more thing must you know before you depart,” came Oberon’s weak, distant voice. “The Helan Archaia is a place engorged with a knowledge of which it is forbidden to speak within the Realm of Faerie. Tread warily and with a wise fearfulness. Seek only that to which the dream has led you. And do not take anything from the Hall of Archives, for evil will come to you if you do so.”
“I understand,” said Tania. “We’ll be careful, and I promise we won’t take anything away.”
“Then my blessings upon you.”
Titania held her arm out to Eden. “Come, take my hand, daughter.”
Eden took hold of the Queen’s hand. For a moment nothing seemed to happen, but then Tania was aware of a faint golden light that surrounded all three: the King, his Queen, and their eldest daughter. And as she watched, the gold faded a little from the King and Queen and grew stronger around Eden, till she glowed like a sun.
Then the hands of Eden and her mother slipped apart and the glow faded.
The change in the King and Queen was alarming. As weary as they had both seemed before, now their faces were ash white, their bodies shrunken and eyes dull.
Hopie knelt by the throne, looking anxiously into her father’s face while Sancha put an arm protectively around the Queen.
“Go…now…” breathed the King, his voice a distant whisper. “Save the people of Faerie….”
Eden turned to Tania and the others, and the golden light was still visible in her eyes. She raised her arms above her head, her hands palm to pal
m, her fingers pointing upward, her eyes half closed so that the golden light seeped out over her cheeks. She began to speak in a silky language, words that Tania did not understand. She brought her arms circling down, her fingertips leaving an arcing trail of white fire.
Her hands came together low on her body, completing the ring of flame. It grew, blossoming out and swelling until it became a globe of white flames that entirely surrounded her.
Her voice rang out from within the fiery globe.
“Come,” she called. “Come to me!”
Rathina was the first to step into the ball of fire. Connor didn’t move. He was staring at the blazing sphere with his mouth half open and white flames reflecting in his eyes.
“Come on,” said Tania, taking his hand. “Let’s do it together.”
Side-by-side they walked into the cool, flickering dance of Eden’s mystical flames.
XVIII
The orb of white fire dwindled until it was no more than a circle of flickering light in the grass.
Tania blinked the dazzle out of her eyes and saw that Eden had brought them to a land of flat pastures, lush meadows, and tall, dark forests. A hill rose before them, tree-mantled and somber under the clear blue Faerie sky. Close by a small herd of wild horses stood watching them. There was no birdsong and no breeze and the shadows under the trees seemed to brood in sullen silence.
“Behold Caer Regnar Naal,” said Eden.
“Wow…” breathed Connor. “I’m like…Wow. That side step thing you do is amazing enough, but your sister’s horse of air is the coolest yet.” He turned to Eden. “How do you do that?” he asked.
“I request the aid of the spirits of fire and air,” Eden replied.
“Oh. Right. I see….”
“Where’s the castle?” asked Tania. She had looked all around, and unless trees hid the Caer, she couldn’t quite work out where it might be.