“If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, I wouldn’t bother. I could easily stop you, and you’d be left floundering in the depths, unable to go one way or the other. And if you resist too much, I won’t promise to bring you back before you drown.” Wrath stepped out of the water and strode to the table, sitting down and indicating that she should do the same.
Every part of her was on edge, but he was right. There was little chance she could escape out the way she had come, not without Wrath willing it. Slowly, she stood, shaking what salt water she could off of her form, wincing slightly as her clothing clutched to her form and the air cooled it.
She walked over to the table and sat, never taking her eyes off of Wrath.
“What do you want?” she said when she was settled.
He splayed his hands outward. “I just want to help.”
“Why? You obviously have some other motive.”
“I do,” he replied, curtly. “I’m in love with you, Una.”
A number of competing emotions kept her from showing any. She stared over the table at the man, no, the creature that sat across from her, trying to read his true motive. It seemed Brit had been right. Wrath did want her. Of course, there was no way the man truly loved her. He was the Sin of Wrath after all, likely incapable of real love. What was it about her that appealed to the man? Lust? As she tried to gather what she could from his outward emotions, something about that didn’t seem right. He did not have the hungry look that most men had when eyeing her body. There was something more...earnest in his gaze. No, it wasn’t lust. That left only one likely possibility.
“You want me for my magic,” she said, keeping her voice cool and matter-of-fact, as if she belonged in this cave. “You’re the Sin of Wrath after all, you seek power.”
He smiled slightly. “I will admit that your strength, when added to my own, would be a considerable force. Perhaps, with training, you could defeat all of the Sins.”
“Even you?”
His smile widened. “That is...unlikely. My power is different from the others. I thrive on conflict, and these islands are saturated with it. The mere act of fighting against me increases my power.”
“And yet you’re not a god, not of war or anything else.”
“No, the gods of war left millennia ago. But in a way, you could say that I am something greater. You don’t need war to find anger. It is just as prevalent during times of peace as times of conflict.”
“I don’t understand.”
He leaned back in his chair. “People don’t know what to do with peace. When one problem is eliminated they search for another. When there are none to be found, they create their own. It is human nature, and it is why people like us will always be superior.”
“I am nothing like you,” she said in a low tone.
“No? You have magic that rivals even the greatest of our number. You have the old blood. We are not so different, you and I.”
“What do you want of me? To join you?”
Wrath carefully looked her over. “No, I don’t think that option is one you are open to, not just yet. For now, I will settle for this: stay out of the war between humanity and the Sins.”
She narrowed her eyes, not expecting that response. “Why?”
“Most of my brethren and sisters mean you harm. If they get their hands on you it will result in complications for us both.”
“And how do I know that you’re not trying to trick me, that you don’t secretly mean me harm as well.”
“I told you how, because I love you.”
Una shook her head and smiled incredulously. “That can’t…”
“Can’t it? Do you really think so low of us that you delude yourself into thinking we are incapable of such emotions?”
“That’s exactly what I think.”
He chuckled under his breath and shook his head slightly, but he did not seem upset. It was somewhat disconcerting how much Wrath never seemed...well, wrathful.
“I’ll give you some time to think it over. In time you will find that I truly mean you no harm. But heed my warnings. Stay away from Duessa and the others.”
“If you truly mean me no harm, then let me go.”
“You are, of course, free to leave at any time.”
She eyed him. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch. It’s easy enough to leave this place. You swim out for about a dozen yards then go straight up. Even without magic you wouldn’t have much trouble. I would, of course, encourage you to stay.”
“Of course you would,” Una stood and began walking towards the pool. If he wasn’t going to stop her, and she couldn’t destroy him by magical means, then it made the most sense to leave.
Wrath quickly rose from his seat and followed. “I know you don’t trust me, and that I’ve done little to earn it. But hear me out. I can give you anything you dreamed of, far more than the Faerie Queen would dare provide.”
Una hesitated and stopped walking. Did he mean…? Growling under her breath, she turned back to the Sin, who was smiling. “What can you give me?”
“Information, of course. But that is only part of what I’m capable of.” Something in his flesh rippled and Una barely stopped herself from recoiling as he changed into someone else. Her eyes widened as she stared into the face of George. He spoke in her love’s voice. “The Faerie Queen would keep you apart, but I can become anyone you want me to be. I can even bring the man here if you so desire. I am not Envy, I will not be jealous of any other relationships you care to have.”
Una bit back her fury at seeing Wrath using George’s body. She could not grow angry, that would only increase his power. Nevertheless, she almost growled when she said, “Never do that again.”
He shifted back to his original form. “What? Is he not the object of your desire, the only one who carries your heart?”
“We’re done here,” she said, biting her tongue to keep herself from growing any angrier.
But just as she was about to turn around again to leave, he spoke, “And what of your father. Don’t you want to know who he is?”
This time she could not stop the blood from rushing to her face. She met his eyes, searching for a hint of deception, anything that would give her an excuse to ignore the information he offered. But as she stared into his deep green eyes, she saw nothing but sincerity...and triumph. He knew he finally had her undivided attention.
21
Guyon rode atop Fairstep, Belphoebe sitting behind him with her arms around his waist. She did not hold very tight, apparently quite used to riding a horse, quite unlike Una who had always clutched at him like a vice whenever they rode.
It was so good to have his horse back again. Fairstep had made it clear from the way he had nuzzled Guyon’s face while he was recovering by the fire that he was happy to see his old master again.
He had waited the full day that Belphoebe had insisted upon, but she had done her work well, and already the wound had miraculously closed up. Though he still had a deep pain in his leg whenever he tried to put pressure on it. He wasn’t sure if it was Belphoebe’s healing herbs that had helped, or if he somehow now had a connection to the Faerie Queen that promoted quick healing, but it was nice to not have to worry about a potentially life-threatening infection or a recovery that would delay his mission for weeks.
Belphoebe had told him all about herself and her sister over the last day, though he was relatively sure that she hadn’t told him everything. She hadn’t mentioned her parents, for example, or anything about where she and her sister ultimately came from. He had learned that Belphoebe and Amoret had spent the last few years apart, but when Belphoebe had learned of her sister’s abduction she had gone out in search of her. That was only two weeks ago.
They were heading east now, in the same direction that Una and Britomart had traveled some days earlier. Perhaps they would meet up at some point. They had recovered a small writ of bounty among one of the men chasing Belphoebe, and they both suspected tha
t it had come from a noble family of Britons, not Saxons. There were very few in the area that would match that description, but Belphoebe knew of a nearby castle that could be the source of the note.
They traveled on horseback for now, though they made sure to take frequent breaks to ensure that Guyon didn’t strain himself too much. And it gave Belphoebe a chance to change his bandages and apply another poultice. It made the journey slow, though not as much as the time before Guyon had a horse.
That night, he had strange dreams. He dreamt he was back in the Shadow Realm, trying to find his way out, but unable to do so. He passed one winding tunnel after another, each one looking more and more like the last.
Upon turning down one passage, he spied a large cavern, one that was open in the ceiling, letting light shine on the creature that was in the center of the room. It was a beast of mythic tales, a monster much like a dragon, but with multiple heads. As he entered the chamber, all of those heads turned to face him.
Guyon took a step back, his knees nearly buckling. Those heads all bore Una’s face.
“Guyon!” came a sharp tone in his ear.
Immediately the vision melted away and he awoke, gasping for air and rising to a sitting position, absently reaching for his sword.
But his sword was not at his side. It was only then that he realized he must still be dreaming, for he was no longer on the rolling hills adjacent to the Forest of Arden. Belphoebe was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Fairstep or any sign of their camp.
But what he did see was a vision as beautiful and delicate as the most precious flower, yet grand as the most spectacular sunset. Gloriana stood in front of him, her dark-red hair flowing in a gentle breeze, her green raiment shimmering in the light that fell through lush trees above.
“My lady,” he said, on his knees in an instant. The wound in his leg was gone, vanished in the sweet vision of the Faerie Queen.
“Something has gone wrong,” she said, and there was an urgency to her voice that Guyon was not used to hearing.
“What can I do?”
“Una and the Armorican knight, Britomart, have been separated, and Britomart is now pursuing one of my knights, though she does not know he is mine. Una is beyond my reach.”
Guyon paused, letting all of that information sink in, feeling questions arise. “Who do you want me to find?”
“You will come across Britomart soon enough. She is traveling fast in your direction.”
“And the knight she pursues?”
A look of pained anguish played across her face. “Paridell. I do not know why Britomart pursues him.”
“Perhaps she thinks he is Artegall, the man she hunts.”
“Perhaps, but my vision of them both is clouded. Britomart recently killed a man in a Saxon town, my knight was there but he did nothing to stop it. I fear Duessa or Wrath may be behind it.”
“I will find Britomart, my lady. We will uncover the truth.”
“Britomart was destined to be one of the knights of Maidenglory,” Gloriana continued, her voice booming through the trees. “Yet her anger is hot, and her efforts misguided. I was a fool to send her with Una.”
Guyon opened his mouth to speak, to tell her that Una was a good person, to vouch for her after all their adventures together. But instead he asked another question. “Where is Una?”
“I fear she has fallen. She was taken by the power of Wrath and now she is beyond my reach.”
“Then we must go rescue her.”
“If she still lives, she may now be more dangerous and deadly to our plans than ever before.”
Guyon furrowed his brow. Gloriana was talking of Una as if she were the enemy. “I don’t understand.”
“Guyon, this is very important. If you see Una again, she may no longer be the girl you knew. If that is the case, you must eliminate her.”
A cold frost settled into Guyon’s bones. “My lady…”
“You must promise me, Guyon,” she said, with an earnestness that he had never seen from his mistress. “If she is allowed to live she could spell disaster for all of us.”
“She is a good person, my lady, I cannot…”
“I will not repeat myself, Sir Guyon,” she said with sharpness. “Britomart has already failed to watch over her like I asked, and now it might be too late. Once you find her, you must search for Una. Britomart will know where to go.”
“And you want me to”—Guyon struggled to say the words— “to kill her?”
For the first time in their conversation, Gloriana seemed to soften. “I wish it would not come to that, but if she falls into Duessa’s hands, the result will be far worse than if she had died. If she is beyond saving, you must eliminate her.”
“But she might not be beyond saving.”
“If she is, you will know it. Do not disobey my orders.”
The air around him seemed to grow stale and he found his vision darkening.
“Wait, my lady…” he still had so many questions. “Gloriana!”
But before he could say another word, the vision faded.
He woke with sweat covering his face, and he instantly pushed himself into a sitting position, grunting as the sudden movement disturbed the wound in his leg.
Belphoebe was up in an instant, staring this way and that for danger. When she found none, she looked to Guyon. “What is it?”
“The Faerie Queen spoke to me,” said Guyon, still panting as though he’d run a mile in full armor.
Belphoebe tilted her head back, comprehension dawning. “I see.” From the way she pressed her lips together, it almost appeared as though she held some resentment for Guyon. Or perhaps not for him, but for the Faerie Queen herself.
“I was...I was instructed to kill my friend if we were to come across her.” He still did not believe the words as they left his mouth.
“Your friend, Una?” Belphoebe stared at him knowingly.
Guyon nodded. “I don’t understand why she would ask that of me.”
Belphoebe got to her feet and turned away from him, heading towards the horse. “The Faerie Queen is manipulative, she cares only for her own designs.”
Guyon stared up at her. There was something in the way Belphoebe said it, that made him think there was more to her relationship with Gloriana.
“So you have met the Faerie Queen before?”
Belphoebe hung her head, her shoulders slumped. Then she turned back to Guyon and he saw something he’d never seen in her face before...conflict.
“The Faerie Queen is my mother.”
If Guyon hadn’t already been sitting down, he would have collapsed. Instead he could do nothing but stare. The Faerie Queen had a daughter? He had never before considered such a thing. The Faerie Queen seemed so...well so above ordinary men and women. She was more of a deity. Yet in the stories, most gods did have children in one way or another.
It did make a kind of sense. It explained Belphoebe’s beauty, the way she seemed to just blend into the nature around her. It explained how she was so skilled in healing. And it also explained the Faerie Queen sending him on a mission to save her.
“And your sister, Amoret. She is also the Faerie Queen’s daughter?”
Belphoebe nodded, simply.
Guyon settled himself back down, his mind racing. Now it all made sense. The Faerie Queen had obviously sent him to save Belphoebe so they could jointly save her other daughter. And now he had no doubt that the bandits sent after Belphoebe were not random villains. They had to be working for someone else, someone worse. That gave them all the more reason to pursue this castle where they suspected the bandits received their orders.
“What else did my mother say to you?” Belphoebe asked, pulling Guyon out of his thoughts.
Guyon shook his head. “There was nothing about you or your sister. Though she did mention that we might meet Britomart soon.”
Belphoebe nodded. “The knight from Armorica.”
“Yes,” Guyon confirmed. “She said Brit is pursuing ano
ther knight of the Faerie Queen, a man called Paridell. Do you know him?”
“We met once, long ago,” said Belphoebe. “I know most of mother’s Order of Maidenglory, though it has been some time since I spent any time with them.”
“What can you tell me about him?”
“He is a large man, tall and heavily built. Some say he has giant blood in him, which would explain his temper. He often grew angry at the simplest things, and the only person he ever respected was my mother. But that is all I know.”
Guyon tried to take that in. So much had happened in so short a time. What was he expected to do with this information? Was he to help Brit pursue this knight? Or was he supposed to take Brit, find Una, and...and…he could not even complete the thought.
No, the Faerie Queen had only instructed him to kill his friend as a last resort. She said he would know if the situation called for such. Though there was no situation he could think of that would make him willingly kill his friend.
Belphoebe straightened and reached for her bow so suddenly that the motion startled Guyon, but in the next instant he knew why. The sound of hooves could be heard in the distance, just one horse, but riding at a full gallop. Belphoebe immediately had an arrow strung on the bow and pointed in the direction of the sound, coming from over the next ridge.
Guyon quickly got to his feet, wincing as he put pressure on his leg. “Don’t shoot. It could be Britomart.”
Belphoebe lessened her pull on the bow, but kept it raised. Soon the galloping horse and its rider crested the hill and Guyon squinted to get a good look.
The horse was obviously not Brit’s, but he couldn’t quite make out many details of the rider who was obviously in a rush. Perhaps this was Paridell?
But no, as the horse neared, the rider caught sight of them and slowed, giving Guyon a chance to look more closely. The rider couldn’t be Paridell, if Belphoebe’s description of the man was to be believed. This rider was far smaller.
“Demons!” came the rider’s voice in a hoarse scream, but clearly identifying the rider as a female. “I’ll kill you all!”
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