Curse of the Lost Isle Special Edition

by Vijaya Schartz

  Elinas let the tears flow freely as his gaze encompassed his daughters with pride. “Look how beautiful you have grown. After all this time, I feel alive again.”

  Warming to the idea, Elinas laughed for the first time in many years. But he sobered as a new thought intruded. The lasses could lead him to Pressine.

  “How is your mother?” He could not help the eagerness in his voice. “Where is she?”

  “All in due time.” Melusine remained guarded.

  Palatina glanced at him sideways. “For now, you should clean up, if you want to share our breakfast.”

  Elinas wanted to tell his daughters to speak to him with more respect, but Meliora chuckled, pinching her nose as if he emitted an offensive odor... he probably did.

  * * *

  Too excited to care about the cold waters of the loch, Elinas bathed, untangled his grizzled hair, and combed it back with twigs. After donning the fine clothes provided by his daughters, he joined the girls for breakfast. For the first time in years, he felt famished. His shack looked clean and swept. Had someone patched the roof? Could his girls use magic? The place looked almost habitable and smelled of fresh straw and hare stew.

  Recovering from the initial shock, Elinas sat with the lasses around the central hearth. An uneasy silence settled between them. They exchanged timid smiles. It had been so long... Elinas had forgotten the art of easy conversation.

  He held his wooden bowl to their only servant, a cross-eyed girl who looked like a calf. The stew smelled wonderful. Elinas now remembered how delicious food tasted when shared with loved ones.

  As they ate, he learned to distinguish the three sisters from each other. Melusine had poise, a calculating gaze, and she ordered everyone around. Palatina looked refined, calm, and studied everyone, while Meliora approached the simplest tasks with a lusty appetite for life.

  Could Pressine have sent them to guide him back to her? And if that were the case, what had they been told?

  Since her sisters referred to Melusine as the leader, Elinas addressed her first. “You promised to tell me about your mother.”

  “And we shall.” The lass ladled more stew into his bowl. “But first, we have questions that need asking.”

  “What questions?” The serious tone surprised Elinas.

  “This is no way to live for a king,” Melusine remarked sharply. “In a pigsty, neglecting yourself, drinking... Why?”

  “Life has a way of humbling the proudest rulers.” He allowed only a hint of bitterness to trail into his voice. How did the girls know about his drinking? “I fear you know me too well.”

  Sitting on her heels, Palatina pushed her empty bowl away and studied him gravely. Her steely gray eyes never wandered but stared straight into his. “Did you cause your own doom by breaking a sacred vow?”

  “That I did, lass. That I did. And I have regretted it ever since.” Although it made him uncomfortable, Elinas welcomed the opportunity to open his heart and cleanse his soul.

  So, you do not deny it?” Meliora sounded shocked as she considered him candidly.

  “How could I?” Elinas sighed deeply. “I cannot forgive myself. I live each day with the guilt.”

  The three girls stared at him accusingly.

  Elinas could have blamed Mattacks’ treachery, but he refused to make excuses. Besides, his blindness about the Edling’s true nature was unforgivable. He stirred the wooden spoon in his bowl, having lost his appetite. “I caused despair to my entire family and ruined the land and the people in my safekeeping.”

  “Why?” Palatina gazed at him calmly. “Why did you do it?”

  “I never meant to. I fell to blind stupidity.” Elinas stared into the embers of the hearth to avoid his daughters’ judging stares. “I trusted the loyalty of my first born, despite the warnings of my queen. I let fatherly love cloud my judgement.”

  Meliora’s young face fixed on him. “So, you loved your Edling more than our mother?”

  “It is not that simple, child. I love your mother more than life itself.” Elinas sighed heavily. “But no father ever expects to be betrayed by his own flesh and blood.”

  “Really?” A fleeting smile flashed on Melusine’s lips, then she regained her cool demeanor. “Our mother was devastated by your betrayal.”

  “I am so sorry.” Words could not express the depth of his regrets.

  “But this hardship has made our mother more powerful.” Despite her youth, Palatina sounded like a philosopher. “She taught us not to trust mortals.”

  Elinas scrutinized his daughters’ faces. “She is right. I would not want any of you to suffer as your mother did.” His voice faltered. “I miss her so much. Does she miss me?”

  Melusine pressed her lips together. “Each dawn, she climbs Mount Elenore to stare over the mists. She sings, searching for you. She is sad, and angry at you for bringing the curse upon us all.”

  Elinas shook his head. “I hate myself as well. I want to make it up to you all.” He allowed himself to hope. “Is there any way I can see her? Talk to her?”

  “The curse forbids you to be together until just before your death, but...” Melusine glanced at her sisters in turn, as if seeking their approval. “I know a magic place with great powers. From there, we could create a magic connection through a water basin, powerful enough for a mortal to see into, if only briefly.”

  “I would do anything to see her and tell her how I feel.” Elated at the thought, Elinas let his hope swell. “I have some Fae blood in my veins. Perhaps it will help. Where is this sacred place?”

  Melusine’s gray eyes glinted. “The Brumborenlion caves in Northumbria.”

  * * *

  “You heard him.” Melusine challenged her sisters with her gaze. She glanced back to make sure the old king had not followed them into the secluded clearing. “He admitted to his guilt. Now, he must pay for all the hurt and injustice he caused.”

  Staring at a plucked blade of grass, Meliora frowned. “He is such a kind old man. I like him, and I think we should be kind in return. I cannot understand why he acted so recklessly.” Sticking the grass in her mouth, she plopped down on a mossy patch.

  “I admit it is difficult to believe he caused such evil.” Still standing, Palatina looked poised, as usual. “Nevertheless, he betrayed our mother and made her life unbearable. Our loyalty is to her, and for the sake of justice, he should pay for his crimes.”

  “What shall we do?” Meliora glanced up at her sisters in turn.

  “Pity is for the weak, and love makes us weak.” Melusine refused to repeat her own father’s mistake. She sat on a fallen tree trunk. The thought of what her mother had endured all these years steeled her resolve.

  Palatina swept her sisters with an even gray gaze. “His good intentions and trusting nature have brought the wrath of the Goddess upon our mother. We cannot fail her.”

  With a heavy heart, taking comfort in the fact that justice would prevail, Melusine concluded. “We must go ahead with our plan.”

  * * *

  Riding south with his loving daughters, Elinas noticed that, unlike his kingdom, Dalriada flourished. He also wondered how Conan fared as a king. In these clean surroundings, riding a sturdy horse and wearing comfortable clothes, Elinas almost felt young again. The prospect of speaking to Pressine contributed to his euphoria.

  Rejuvenated, Elinas regained his energy along with his appetite for life... and wine.

  “Great kings should not rely on wine for comfort,” Melusine commented, one night, as the maid refilled his cup.

  “I could have been a great king.” Elinas loathed himself for the drinking habit that fueled his daughter’s disapproval. “But I made one fatal mistake. In any case, it is not your place to judge.”

  “Mother taught us to form our own opinion.” Melusine gazed at him evenly, with eyes the color of the mist. “The Ladies of the Isle do not submit to mortal authority, nor take counsel from simple mortals.”

  Elinas raised his cup to hide a smile. His
daughter’s poise reminded him of Pressine’s defiant attitude as a young virgin.

  The next day, Elinas and his daughters crossed the Antonine Wall and rode south into Northumbria. That night, they met a family as they were making camp close to their cottage. The man was from Dumfries, and Elinas insisted that they invited him and his family to share their evening meal.

  “Do you blame the old king for triggering the curse?” Elinas asked the man, while the wife and children finished their third helping of stew.

  “I do. This is all his fault.” The poor wretch nursed a cup of wine. “But not for the curse, mind you. Perhaps there is such a thing, but I do not believe in magic. It was the old king who turned his back on us when times got tough.”

  “Did King Conan not help his people through the ordeal?” Elinas could not believe his good son would neglect his duties to the land.

  “Help?” The man almost choked on his wine. “I hear he has no food at his own table, and his soldiers deserted him to seek their fortune with other kings.” The man took a deep breath and laid one hand on his belly. “I bet he did not have a meal like this tonight.”

  Elinas wailed inside. Guilt weighed his conscience.

  Melusine flashed Elinas a disapproving stare. “How did it get so bad?”

  “Well,” the man lifted his cap to scratch unkempt hair. “To survive the winter, they ate the grain set aside for the spring planting, then cattle and wild game died of starvation and murrain... then came the pestilence.”

  “The pestilence...” Images of dying children crossed his mind as Elinas finished his wine.

  “The hapless man gazed into the campfire in a daze. “Always happens when food gets scarce.”

  Elinas wanted to return to Dumfries and help Conan in these times of hardship, but the curse prevented him from ever returning home.

  * * *

  A few days later, as the harvest still kept the Northumbrians busy in the fields, Elinas and his daughters finally reached the base of the sacred mountain. Melusine claimed the crystal cave inside it had once been Merlin’s residence. According to her, Brumborenlion, isolated and forsaken, offered unlimited power, and privacy for magic rituals.

  A shiver ran through Elinas at the sheer desolation of the place. Thick woods covered the base of the mountain, but no game roamed, no bird sang, no insect chirped. As his gaze rose higher, light gray rock alternated with sparse vegetation to form a craggy terrain of nooks and crannies that would change with each season. No doubt it could conceal entrances to many secret caves and passages.

  Further up the slope, Elinas noticed a plateau, on which stood an ancient stone circle.

  “There!” Melusine pointed at the jutting monoliths. “On a midsummer sunset, the shadow of the tallest menhir should indicate the entrance to Merlin’s cave.”

  Instinctively, Elinas glanced at the lowering sun. He could guess where the shadow would fall at sunset, but from this distance he saw nothing resembling a cave entrance.

  “Let us climb to the plateau and camp at the foot of the sacred stones tonight,” Melusine suggested.

  They left the cart and the horses at the bottom of the mountain and slogged uphill through the forest, carrying food and blankets. By sunset they emerged at the base of the stone circle. While the servant and two of the girls made camp and started a cooking fire, Melusine went searching the area.

  Shortly after dark, Melusine returned. “I found the cave entrance hidden behind thorny bushes. My sisters and I will check the cave tonight.”

  “I can help,” Elinas offered.

  “No.” Melusine smiled sweetly. “Old Merlin must have left protective spells to keep intruders away.”

  They ate around the fire.

  Meliora pulled her blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Do you think Merlin still lives here?”

  The circle of stones made Elinas nervous, and the mention of Merlin increased his malaise. He could feel magic in the air, the woods, the very rock.

  “Do not fret.” Melusine let out a chuckle and dropped a dead branch into the fire. “Mother said the old goat is back in her native Broceliande, in Bretagne, rejuvenating among the Fae folk.”

  “Good.” By the dancing light of the flames, Palatina seemed relieved. “I would not want to meet him just yet.”

  Elinas drowned his apprehension with several cups of wine. After dinner, the girls went to explore while Elinas stared at the dark, starless sky, unable to sleep. Whenever he dozed off, a nightmare shook him awake. In the sinister dream, a dark cloud engulfed the mountain, and the ground shook with the anger of the gods. A cave collapsed upon him in a shower of deadly debris. Frightening winds carried mournful sounds, and menacing shadows swallowed the light.

  Once, he awoke from the nightmare and Meliora soothed his brow and sang him back to sleep. Her melodious chant finally brought oblivion, and Elinas slept, as soundly as a fat bear in his winter cave.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Elinas awoke, squinting at the sun already high behind a thick cloud cover. He felt unusually sluggish, with a splitting headache, and a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. Something wrong with last night’s wine? No, he would have tasted it. He hadn’t slept that late in years. Strange, the mountain sounded even more quiet than the night before. No breeze blew over the sparse vegetation around the monoliths, as if time stood still. The stones themselves emitted a soft buzz.

  Picking a dry blade of grass from his hair, Elinas frowned as he remembered the nightmare. The vivid dream had the kind of foreboding quality Pressine had described to him long ago. Something she usually associated with premonition. Perphaps the sacred mountain and the proximity of the stone circle had enhanced his feeble Fae gifts. If so, he should find out what the dream meant.

  But that could wait. Elinas would let nothing spoil this special day. If all went well, today he would see Pressine and talk to her, the second happy event of his life in fifteen years. The first one, of course, had been the return of his lost daughters. The mere joy of this turn of luck eclipsed any other feeling.

  As he glanced around the quiet camp, Elinas hailed the plump servant girl crouching by the fire. From the heated rocks encircling the embers, the maid retrieved a wooden bowl and brought it to the king.

  “I kept your breakfast warm, my lord.” The servant smiled, gazing at him with crossed eyes. “Boiled millet.”

  Elinas accepted the bowl eagerly. The long sleep had left him ravenous and the millet smelled wonderful, so he attacked it with a healthy appetite.

  The big girl hesitated, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “My mistresses have been busy at the cave since dawn.” She glanced around worriedly. “Magic,” she whispered. “They said you must remain here ‘til they return.” After bobbing a curtsy the servant hurried away.

  No doubt, his talented daughters were preparing the cave for his encounter with Pressine through a water basin. The weird stillness probably indicated magic at work, but Pressine’s spells had never felt that strange. Remembering the water basin in his queen’s chambers, Elinas smiled. Even if he could never live with her again, at least their daughters had restored his spirit, bringing new worth to his miserable life.

  As he finished his millet, the girls walked toward him, determination on their faces. Even Meliora looked grave. Elinas attributed their seriousness to the difficulty of the task they had set for themselves. Fae or not, they were only lasses after all.

  “Is everything ready?” Elinas set down his bowl and rose.

  “Yes,” Melusine answered grimly. “Merlin laid traps in the cave, magic and otherwise. Meliora almost fell to her death into a hidden crevice.”

  A twinge of alarm pinched Elinas at the idea of losing one of his precious daughters. The unexpected discovery of their vulnerability worried him. “Are you all well?”

  “Well enough to finish what we started. What is left is the easy part.” Melusine glanced up at the sun piercing the clouds. “Almost noon.” She favored Elinas with a measuring gaze.
“Are you ready?”

  Elinas smoothed his long hair and brushed grass off his tunic and trews. “I have waited a long time for this moment.”

  Without a word, Melusine led the way as Elinas and his daughters ascended toward the entrance of the secret cave. While the lasses stepped lightly around him, Elinas felt old and heavy, breathless as he labored to negotiate the incline. Gone was the lightness of the day before. His blood now pulsed wildly, beating his temples.

  As they circled a thorny thicket, the black entrance gaped in front of them like an open mouth in the gray rock face. Melusine lifted the flaming torch from its iron holder and braved the dark tunnel first. Elinas followed close, squinting in the flickering glow. Behind him, Meliora and Palatina mumbled ancient words that chilled the spine, but Elinas would gladly go through any discomfort, if it enabled him to see Pressine.

  By torchlight, the long dreary tunnel revealed walls covered with painted and carved runes. Roots and spider webs dangled from cracks in the ceiling. At the end of the long underground trek, after a sharp bend, a bright blue light emanated from a cavern ahead. Upon entering the vast hall, Melusine set the now useless torch into a metal hook in the wall. Elinas gazed at the cave, clean, slick and shiny, carved in blocs of blue crystal. To one side, the sound of running water told of a spring or an underground brook.

  He couldn’t help but gawk at the impossibly high ceiling, supported by gigantic octagonal pillars. They formed a circle that hummed with power. The columns’ polished facets deflected shafts of blue light, like mirrors.

  Chilled by the sight, Elinas shivered. In the exact center of the circle, on a translucent pedestal, a crystal basin pulsated with a powerful white light.

  “Go forth,” Melusine gestured toward the glowing water basin but remained outside the circle of pillars with her sisters. “Our mother will respond.”

  Trembling, as much from apprehension as from excitement, Elinas stepped into the circle. The very air made his skin tingle. Was it safe to expose himself to so much power? But he didn’t care about himself. All he wanted was to see Pressine, apologize, and tell her how much he loved her.