by Alex Temples
I tripped.
I cried out, more in anger at myself than anything else, springing to my feet as quickly as possible. We were a foot away from the stairs.
Tristan held out his hand. I reached for it. Just then, the scar-faced man leapt for me. We struggled as he tried to yank the bag off my shoulder. We were in a tug of war over it. I stretched to reach Tristan and finally felt my fingers touch his.
The world dipped out of sight.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
I blinked blurrily, glancing around the room. I lay in a comfortable white cloud of a bed, nestled in a pile of plush furs and feather pillows. Elegant tapestries and horse paintings hung on the stone walls next to flowing plum-colored curtains.
Where am I?
I propped myself up with an elbow and searched for some clue. Then, in a rush, it all came back. The fight at the lake. Aiden being struck with an arrow. The last thing I remembered was grabbing Tristan’s hand.
I shook my head, willing the feeling of dizziness to go away. I felt as if I were in a fog.
Struggling into a sitting position, I threw my legs over the edge of the bed. Cold stone touched my feet. The air was spiced with cinnamon and vanilla. Looking down, I realized I was wearing a long, silk tunic and snug fitting leggings. They were both a shade of pale blue, finely woven and embroidered with runes.
Someone had dressed me.
Anxious to discover where I was, I stood up, crossing the room to a wide, circular window.
“Oh my god.” I gasped, studying the land around us. I was on one of the upper floors of an incredibly tall building. The window afforded me a view that spanned miles in every direction. On one side blue mountains loomed large. Beyond that were fields full of trees and blooming crops.
In the yard below, men gathered together with their mounts, dressed in tunics and leggings, similar to what I wore. They looked as if they had just returned from a fox hunt, each wearing capes of various colors, billowing behind them as they walked.
Their tall boots reminded me of my favorite English riding boots. It was the horses accompanying them that took my breath away though – towering, sleek beasts, with flowing manes and tails, rippling muscles, and long legs, crafted for racing over the rugged terrain.
There was an otherworldliness to the surrounding land. Things gleamed in a way they didn’t back home, and it was so quiet. I didn’t hear the sound of airplanes, or cars, the buzzing of heaters or air conditioners, jackhammers and street vendors. I stood marveling at the realization of where I must be.
I spun around at the sound of the door opening behind me.
“You’re awake.” The voice was melodious and regal. It was the voice of one who commanded.
I raised my eyes to the door and found a tall woman with dark, curly hair, full lips and large, slanted eyes. She wore the same sort of silken tunic and pants in a deep emerald, with a large cape and boots. Her eyes glided over me, cool and assessing.
I held myself tall and straight, raising my chin. I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrow as the woman’s eyes finally found my face. This seemed to entertain my visitor. Her lips turned up in a barely suppressed smile. The tall woman nodded to me in acknowledgement.
“It is good to finally meet you Brinmar.”
“Do I know you?” I asked, confused.
She pursed her lips as though thinking, but pressed them together again and shook her head.
“I am Aelwen of Avalon, Queen of the Crystal Court.”
I was speechless, studying this woman so clearly not of the mortal realm. Her regal demeanor and carefully measured voice were unworldly. She moved slowly and with purpose.
Unsure of what to do, I inclined my head as Aelwen had done a moment ago. “I’m very pleased to meet you, but I don’t know where my friends are or where I am and I’m very worried.”
Aelwen smiled. “Of course. My sons are in the next room. I’ll take you to them.”
“You sons?” I blurted it out, unable to keep the shock from my voice. I thought back to my conversation with Aiden. He’d mentioned he was from a royal house.
Aelwen was already through the doorway, gliding soundlessly down the hall.
I hurried after her, barefoot and clumsily, gaping over the bannister at the sweeping staircase below. We were in a castle. I was in a castle. A castle in a foreign land filled with fae. It would have been a fairy tale if it weren’t such a nightmare.
My thoughts were interrupted as Aelwen came to a halt in front of a set of black French doors. Delicately carved runs ran up and down the paneling. I watched with curiosity as she ran her fingers over the runes in a pattern.
A lock clicked and the doors sprung open, inviting us into a massive, two-story chamber with floor to ceiling windows and elaborate tapestries on the walls.
There was a lovely seating area furnished with white couches that reminded me of the ones I’d seen in Aiden’s New York apartment. A spotted two sets of double doors at the back of the seating area, one on each side. Bedrooms. Only one set of doors stood open.
“Mother, is that you?”
I felt a moment of relief when I heard Tristan’s voice call out from the open doors. If he was here, Aiden was too.
Aelwen and I waited in the seating area. It was only a moment before Tristan appeared, shining and golden. He was freshly washed, his hair still dripping. His face lit up when he saw me.
“Brin, you’re awake. I wondered how long you’d be out. I hear the initial shock of the Eden atmosphere can keep a mortal out for days or weeks, if it doesn’t kill them outright. Thank goodness for your fae blood.” He said earnestly, coming out to examine me more closely.
Earnest blue eyes studied me with concern. Aiden’s brother. I could easily see the resemblance as I looked him over.
I glanced cautiously from Aelwen to Tristan. “You are her son?” I asked.
Tristan smiled disarmingly and nodded. “Yes.” He said it plainly, glancing questioningly at Aelwen.
Aelwen smiled back at him and at me but said nothing.
“And, Aiden is your brother?” I asked in follow up, putting it together.
Tristan nodded, glancing again at his mother in concern.
“Are you feeling alright, Brinmar?”
I pursed my lips. How to answer that… Well, here I am, in the middle of a foreign land I’ve never seen, or even heard of until a couple days ago. I had essentially been kidnapped…by fairies. One of whom I apparently had feelings for, and had just discovered was fae royalty. My brother is ill and lying unconscious in a hospital bed. The mortal world faces possible mass extinction. My mother, whom I’d thought to be dead my entire life was somewhere alive and possibly in danger. Oh, yes, I decided. I was feeling just fine, who wouldn’t?
I took a deep breath, pondering the best answer to the question before speaking.
“I am feeling just fine, Tristan, but, as I was explaining to your mother…the ah - queen….” I trailed off, glancing at Aelwen. “I am worried about Aiden. Can I please see him?”
Tristan looked relieved. “Of course you can see him, though he isn’t awake yet.”
Aelwen watched this exchange with a detached amusement, reclining against one of the soft, white chairs.
“He’s just this way.” Tristan gestured to the room across from his.
I followed him.
He turned the knob slowly, peeking in before swinging the door wide enough for me to look in.
Aiden’s chamber was enormous, decorated in deep crimson, black, and crisp white. Large, paneled windows and floor to ceiling bookcases echoed the look of his New York apartment. In the middle of the room stood a very large canopy bed, covered in the same sort of furs and silks and piled high with feather pillows.
He lay sprawled across the bed, wearing only pants, a large, red wound on his shoulder. It had stopped bleeding, but it looked red and angry.
I winced, imagining how painful it would be once he was awake.
“Shouldn’t it be
bandaged?” I asked, turning to Tristan.
He shook his head. “No, we can do better than that, but it does take time. He sleeps only because he has been enchanted.”
“What do you mean you can do better than that? What else is there? Doesn’t a bleeding wound need a bandage?” I asked, confused. I glanced between Tristan and Aelwen, waiting for an explanation.
“I will heal him.” Aelwen said, nodding in the direction of the bed.
My eyes widened, eyebrows sky high. Skeptical, I tilted my head to the side. “With magic?” I asked, knowing the answer.
Aelwen gave a half smile as she stepped past us into the room, and walked to where Aiden lay.
Tristan and I followed her, watching as she laid her hands lightly against Aiden’s chest. There was a tingling, a hum in the air, and Aiden’s body shimmered, ethereal in the suddenly warm air. The shimmer reminded me of the heat waves that rippled over the street on a hot summer day. I watched as the angry red wound began to fade. It was as if the damage were reversing itself before my eyes.
I gazed in slack-jawed amazement as Aelwen’s hands hovered over the spot until just a light pink scar was left on Aiden’s chest. Then the hum in the air quieted and faded away as Aelwen dropped her hands.
“Were you able to correct it?” Tristan asked. His blonde brow furrowed in concern.
Aelwen closed her eyes briefly, concentrating hard as Tristan and I stood waiting to hear the verdict. Finally, she nodded and smiled, stepping back from the bed.
“He will be fine, but he needs to remain enchanted for the day to allow his deeper tissues to fully heal. There is only so much one can do with magic.” The corners of Aelwen’s lips turned up ever so slightly, as if she were amused by the notion.
“Thank goodness.” I said, exhaling the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
Tristan nodded in agreement. “Thank you, Mother. We’re lucky we escaped in time. I thought I would be able to warn them before Agfad and his brutes arrived, but I wasn’t early enough.”
“Agfad? You know the people who attacked us?” I asked.
Tristan frowned, nodding his head. “We know of them. Everyone knows what Agfad looks like, and of his reputation. He is Gethin’s right hand. They call him the hawk.”
“Ah, that’s Agfad? I thought about a hawk immediately when I first saw him. He was the one I knocked out.” I couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction. Bastard. It served him right for coming after me and Aiden. I hope he woke up with a hell of a headache.
“She knocked him out?” Aelwen raised an eyebrow at Tristan and gave me a look of approval.
“Not with magic, but she did clock him over the head with a rather large rock.” Tristan replied, grinning.
Aelwen let out a musical laugh. “Very good. We appreciate strong women in Eden, Brinmar. You’ll do just fine.”
With that sentiment, she moved towards the door, calling out behind her as she went, “Make sure you give her a thorough tour of Eden, Tristan. I look forward to hearing all about it at dinner this evening.”
Tristan and I looked at each other and then towards Aiden.
He seemed as if he would sleep soundly the rest of the day.
“Are you up for a tour?” Tristan asked, cocking his head.
I thought for a moment of Oren. It looked like Aiden would be out for a while. In the meantime, a tour of Eden certainly couldn’t hurt. As soon as Aiden woke up we could take the tablets to New York and get to work on the elixir.
I shrugged. “Sure. I suppose that wouldn’t hurt. Let’s take a look at the tablets first. We didn’t get the chance to read them.”
I was excited to examine them, eager to learn what knowledge they held.
Tristan’s face paled. He looked around uncomfortably, as if searching for an escape.
“What? What’s wrong?” I asked, a sinking feeling in my stomach as Tristan avoided making eye contact with me.
He glanced up briefly, then back down. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to look me in the eyes.
“It’s the tablets…we don’t have them.”
“What? What do you mean we don’t have them? I had the bag in my hand. We were running, but I know I had the bag in my hand when I grabbed yours.”
I frowned. I knew I had brought them. I put a hand to my head, struggling to remember the last few moments before I’d passed out.
Tristan shook his head sadly, placing a hand on my shoulder.
“It isn’t your fault, Brin. You’re right. You were holding the bag when you touched my hand. As soon as I had a hold of you, I had to shift us to Eden. It was your first time and the magic often overwhelms mortals. You lost consciousness the instant I shifted us and the bag dropped.”
I stood silently, staring at Tristan in dismay. The bag dropped. What were they going to do now? They couldn’t create the elixir without the tablets and now Gethin had them.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Come on, Brin, Keep up!” Tristan said.
He kicked his horse into a canter and rode out ahead of me, his black gelding speeding across the green field, kicking up dirt.
I couldn’t help but throw my head back and laugh. Joy flooded through me at the sensation of being astride a horse again, feeling its’ strong muscles rippling under me as we fled across the ground.
I dug my heels into my mount and the horse burst forward. There was nothing as liberating as being on horseback, the feeling of the wind blowing my hair back as we flew.
We rode hard through grassy meadows and clusters of trees. Tristan pointed out sights along the way.
Wood nymphs flitted among the trees, gathering small flowers and plants to make tea. I was charmed by the sight of fae children running through the fields, dancing and singing. I watched as a small, blonde girl use green magic to make yellow blossoms sprout from the bark of a fallen tree.
Tristan talked about the Crystal City, explaining to me how the many fae houses and other magical creatures mixed and mingled in the capital city, visiting for key festivals and special occasions before traveling back to their kingdoms.
I asked many questions along the way, marveling at the complexity of Eden’s political and social systems.
My horse was slowing, tired from the long journey, and I was relieved when we finally caught sight of the beach through the trees. Sea grass grew out of the white sand all along the rocky shore. Wisps of mist floated further out, hovering over the water. I wondered what lay beyond.
“Where are we?” I asked.
Tristan turned in his saddle and looked over his shoulder at me. “We’ve come to the shore across from the Isle of Avalon. This is where our people are from.”
The air was filled with the sound of waves lapping at the shore and birds calling in the distance.
I stared in wonder across the sea towards the misty isle. It was barely visible beneath the heavy fog.
A bird soared in circles over the far-away trees. Tristan cleared his throat and I turned to him, adjusting my position in the fine leather saddle. A sudden gust of wind brought the smell of pears to us. My horse stomped a foot, eager to be on with it.
“When you say our people…” My voice trailed off, the question in it obvious.
Tristan looked at me, his expression unreadable. His eyes skimmed over my lips and down my body.
I blushed. Tristan found me attractive.
He was very much the opposite of Aiden. He was light where Aiden was dark. He was serious, where Aiden was carefree. There was an air of openness and honesty to him, a lack of pretense I appreciated. Where Aiden lit a fire inside me that seared its way to my very soul, Tristan created a feeling of warmth, comfort and certainty.
Tristan saw me notice his attention, and quickly brought his eyes back to mine, a contemplative expression on his face.
“Brinmar, I have the strangest feeling no one has explained to you who you are.”
“Please, Tristan, call me Brin.” I said, tilting my head in curiosity a
t his comment. “What do you mean no one has explained to me who I am?”
He gave me a half smile. “Exactly that. I know you just recently discovered you are part fae, but do you know who your mother is?”
“No.” I shook my head sadly. “I’m afraid I don’t.”
“Follow me. I’ll show you.” Tristan nudged his horse forward, into the water.
I was about to call out to him and ask what he was doing in the water, when out of the mist emerged a beautiful, shimmering pearl bridge. It appeared to be floating on the water.
Tristan rode his horse up the sloping pearl ramp and trotted through the entry. I rode close on his heels, a thrill of excitement coursing through me as I wondered what lay on the other side of the bridge.
As we rode across the pearlescent tiles, I marveled at the dolphins jumping in the water nearby. The smell of pears grew stronger. When I saw the end of the bridge and the hillside above it, I discovered why. Dozens of pear trees blanketed the hill, heavy with ripe, fragrant fruit.
“Wow.”
Beyond the orchard, tall, Cyprus trees lined a road paved with crushed shells. It looked like a painting my father had of somewhere in Italy, the whimsical Cyprus trees leading down the road to a Tuscan winery. Something told me our destination was a bit more exotic than a mere winery.
We rode down the shining path for twenty minutes before arriving at two towering Romanesque columns carved of stone. The faces of goddesses and horses were etched across their worn surfaces. The columns stood alone, guards to the legendary city, shimmering in the early morning sun. I stared upwards, but couldn’t see the tops, as they disappeared into the mist hanging above us.
A baby deer sprung from the woods, bucking across the meadow with the carefree joy of the very young. It slowed, spying the new grass sprouting from the ground, and bent its’ head to eat.
I smiled at the sight. This place was magical in more ways than one. It was virgin earth, unmarred by the touch of man. Fat, yellow butterflies fluttered about, drinking the nectar of the large, white flowers that seemed to grow on everything.