The Enchanted Quest

by Frewin Jones

  She was alone with Edric on a wide veranda of white marble. Beyond the carved balustrade the land stepped down in terraces of fir and holly to the water’s edge. There was the smell of pine, fresh and intoxicating. The still, black water reflected the sky so that both above and below, the world was sewn with twinkling diamonds. Faint music played from far away, floating on the air.

  “I’m glad,” Edric murmured as they leaned on the cool, white rail, their arms touching, her head tilted slightly to rest on his shoulder.

  It was curious—she couldn’t quite remember how they had got here. She remembered dancing and laughter and music, the thrill of being in Edric’s arms, the wonder of his shining eyes. But then it all became a blur. A nice blur—warm and soft and comforting.

  Although . . .

  “Edric . . . where are we . . . ?”

  “Does it matter?” he whispered, and she could feel his lips touching her hair. “We’re together again; that’s all that matters.”

  “Again?” As she spoke, a cautionary voice called out from the peaceful daze of her mind. A voice telling her that this was not real, that their love and their happiness were broken and ruined.

  She pulled away from him and looked into his silvery eyes. “This is all wrong,” she said, the words melting and falling apart in her mouth, the white bliss stirring in her mind, becoming threaded with gray. . . . “This isn’t . . . true. . . . None of it is!”

  Edric’s hands came up to cradle her cheeks. There was sadness in his face now and loss in his voice. “I should have known . . .” He groaned, the silver light flickering and fading in his eyes. “I should have known this wouldn’t work.”

  And then the sheen was gone from his eyes and they were brown again. Tania’s head was suddenly clear.

  She pulled away from him. “What did you do to me?” she spat. “What was that?”

  Edric moved toward her. “I wanted you to be happy; that was all. Nothing bad . . . I promise . . . nothing bad. . . .”

  It all clicked into place. The dizziness, the euphoria, the sense of peace: they had all been a trick, a mind game that Edric had played on her.

  She lashed out, her hand striking hard across his cheek, snapping his head sideways. “How dare you!” she cried. “How dare you do that to me!”

  He was trembling now, a red stain burning on the side of his face. “I couldn’t bear how unhappy you were,” he said. “I wanted to do something good for you . . . something to make you feel better.”

  She was livid, almost too angry to speak. “You wanted to make me feel better by . . .” She choked, unable to think of the words to express the depth of her revulsion. “You used the Dark Arts on me, Edric? How could you do that?”

  “Because I love you and I can’t stand our being like this!” he cried. “It’s too hard, Tania; it’s killing me.” He leaned heavily on the balustrade, as though his legs were failing under him.

  Tania took long, slow breaths, trying to calm herself down.

  “The worst thing you could have done . . .” she began hesitantly. “Absolutely the very worst thing you could ever do to me is to try and control my mind like that.” She looked into his defeated face. “That’s what Gabriel Drake did, Edric! Don’t you get that? He got inside my head with the Dark Arts and he manipulated me and he tried to kill me with it!” She swallowed, her throat parched and aching. But she needed to finish. “No matter what motives you had, no matter what you were trying to do—you have no right to violate my mind like that.” She stared at him. “Do you not get that? Do you not get how horrible that is?”

  He nodded slowly, his head hanging. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

  “You promised me you’d stop using the Dark Arts, Edric,” she said harshly. “So, what happened to that?”

  “I needed to use them to find you,” he said quietly. “There was no other way.”

  She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Why did you need to find me?”

  He lifted his head, and she could see tears in his eyes. “Because I can save you, Tania,” he said. “I can save you, and then we can be together again.”

  She frowned. “You said that before—that thing about saving me. Save me from what?”

  He stood up straight, running his arm across his face, breathing hard. “From yourself, Tania!”

  Chapter Ninteen

  Wide marble steps led down from the veranda toward the lake, winding steeply under the tall dark trees.

  Edric and Tania sat side-by-side, close but not touching, on a low step near the motionless, starry black sheet of the water. The smell of the trees was all around them, and the steps were velvet with fallen pine needles.

  Edric was speaking, his voice soft as he spun out his story. “Something is wrong in Faerie,” he said. “It’s like something . . . something fundamental to Faerie has . . . has changed.” He looked at her. “You don’t remember how the Immortal Realm was in the old days—before the Great Twilight, before you went missing, before the Queen was lost.” A longing tone entered his voice. “It was wonderful, Tania, truly wonderful. Day after glorious day, night after star-bright night. And then . . . then things began to go wrong, to go bad. And it all started after you made that first side step into the Mortal Realm.”

  An unpleasant thought stabbed at her. “You think the bad things started all because of me?” she said breathlessly. “Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

  He looked sideways at her, as though ashamed. “I don’t think you’re doing bad things,” he said. “I think maybe bad things are happening because of who you are. And a lot of other people think the same—Lord Aldritch for one.” He held up a hand to stop her speaking. “Wait! Listen. Hear me out on this. You know you’re not . . . not whole. Ever since you found out about the Faerie half of yourself, you’ve been freaking out about it. ‘Should I stay with Mum and Dad in London? Should I live in Faerie with my other family?’ It’s been eating you alive.”

  She stared at him, furious. “Well, what do you expect? I can’t just shrug and carry on like nothing’s changed. Everything has changed! I’m not just me anymore—I’m two different people. You try it, Edric. You imagine how that feels!”

  He reached out and caught her hand. “Exactly!” he said, his eyes shining. “That’s exactly my point.”

  She tried to pull away, but he held her hand firmly in his. “I know how to put it all right for you,” he said, leaning toward her. “And once everything is right inside you—I think everything will come right in Faerie, too. Not immediately, maybe, and not easily. But I know for sure that while your soul is split between Faerie and the Mortal World, things are never going to be right. You’re like . . . I don’t know . . . like the eye of a hurricane and all of Faerie is whirling around you in total chaos.” His other hand caught her now. “I can make you whole, Tania. I really can.”

  She stood up, wrenching herself free and stepping down to that final marble slab against which the dark water lapped. She wrapped her arms around herself, staring out over the lake.

  Was it possible? She had always somehow thought of herself as the savior of Faerie: the princess who had found the lost Queen and destroyed the Sorcerer King. Had she been wrong about that? Was Hollin right to fear her? Was she really a terrible danger to the Immortal Realm?

  She felt Edric at her back. “I know why you’re scared of the Dark Arts, Tania,” he said. “But you needn’t be. If a person approaches them with a good heart, they can’t damage him—I’m certain of that. I’m not Gabriel Drake, Tania. I won’t hurt you. I love you. I will always love you. I know how to make everything better. That’s why I asked Lord Aldritch to allow me to follow you.” His voice was insistent, but Tania didn’t get the sense that he was lying to her. “I know a spell— an incantation—something from deep within the Dark Arts, something that will make you whole again. And then . . . and then we can be together.” His warm hands curled around her upper arms.

  “Sounds great,” she said flatly. “Go for it, Ed
ric. . . . I really can’t wait.”

  “You don’t believe me —”

  “What makes you say that?” She glanced at him over her shoulder, her voice sharp. “Why is Hollin here?”

  “Aldritch would only let me go if I agreed to Hollin coming with me,” Edric said. “He knows this land—he was born here.” Tania gazed out over the lake.

  “And you tracked me using that necklace you gave me, right?”

  “At first,” Edric admitted. “But you don’t need to wear black onyx for me to find you, Tania—not now. You’re in my blood—and I’m in yours. We’re never going to be free of each other. You do realize that, don’t you? In Faerie love is forever.”

  “Apparently . . .” she said heavily. “So? What’s this amazing cure for being me that you’ve come up with?”

  “Which would you rather be: Princess Tania or Anita Palmer?”

  She turned, staring up into his face. “What do you mean?”

  “I know an incantation. It’s hard, but I can perform it—I’m certain I can—and it will make you whole again, Tania. All you have to do is decide who you want to be—and the Dark Arts can do the rest. I speak the ritual words, I light the blue flame, I scribe the profound circle—and it’s done!” His face was eager now. “No more double life, Tania, no more tearing yourself to pieces over who you really are. You will be either one hundred percent a Faerie princess—or you’ll be one hundred percent Anita Palmer. Forever.” He smiled. “And whichever you decide, I’ll be with you. I’ll be by your side if you choose Faerie—or I’ll renounce this world forever and go with you to London if you prefer.”

  She gazed at him, dumbfounded.

  “You can do that . . . ?” she whispered.

  “I can!”

  Her heart leaped. No more doubt, no more pain— just herself, whole and complete and at peace. Oh! What wouldn’t she give for that?

  For a rapturous moment she actually believed she was capable of making that choice. But only for a moment.

  Tears ran down her cheeks. She caught hold of Edric and clung on to him, pressing her head to his chest, hearing the rapid beat of his heart against her temple, digging her fingers into his back. He stroked her hair and she could feel him trembling.

  “My dad is worse,” she mumbled into his tunic front.

  “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

  She looked up into his face. “My dad—in London— he’s really ill, Edric. How could I choose to be a Faerie princess and never know what happened to him? It’s impossible.” She wiped the tears out of her eyes. “And what will happen here if I give it all up and become ordinary Anita Palmer of Camden Town again?”

  He opened his mouth, but she pressed her fingers to his lips, silencing him. “I know you think I’m the cause of everything that’s wrong here—and maybe I am. But even if that is the case, it’s far too late now for me to just up and walk away. If I started all this chaos, then I’ve got to end it.” She shook her head. “I can’t be just the one person, Edric—don’t you see? I can’t abandon my parents and I can’t give up on Faerie. I’m sorry but I can’t!”

  “Listen to me,” he said, his arms strong around her. “You must think this through properly. When I cast the incantation—when you become a single, complete person—you’ll forget all about your other self. It’ll fade away like . . . like a dream. That’s the beauty of it. That’s the whole point.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Tania said. “That isn’t important to me. I need to be both of me right now, Edric—I really do.”

  “But what if you fulfill your quest, what if you make things right again in Faerie, what then?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t know!”

  A voice came ringing down through the trees. “Tania! Are you there?”

  She stepped out of Edric’s arms and called back. “Yes! Rathina, I’m here!”

  “By the spirits, you’ve led me a merry dance, sister!” There was the patter of feet on the marble stair. “Connor and I never saw the going of you, Tania! It is thoughtless of you to wander off alone when . . .” Rathina came into view under the low branches, her eyes like gimlets on Edric. “Or not alone, it would seem,” she growled, disapproval strong in her voice. “What is this, sir? A secret tryst with my sister? Fie upon you for such uncourtly behavior!”

  Edric bowed low, then turned quickly to Tania. “Think carefully about what I said,” he murmured. “Sleep on it and give me a better answer in the morning.” He passed Rathina and went bounding away up the stairs.

  “Well, sister,” Rathina remarked, her eyebrow arched. “And what sweet nothings have been passing between you and the handsome captain of Weir?”

  Tania swallowed hard. “Let’s find Connor,” she said. “We need to talk.”

  The Festival of Danu Danann was drawing to a close. Many of the revelers had already retired for the night, and Tania, Connor, and Rathina were climbing a long stairway with Lord and Lady Fendrey. Servants carried candles to light their way.

  “I’m sorry we’ve been such a bother,” Tania said.

  “ ’Tis nothing; do not even think of it,” Lady Derval said, although Tania could tell from the unease in her eyes that the strangers at the feast had been something of a trial for her.

  “We have arranged for you to sleep in the west tower,” said Lord Cillian. “There is a fine suite of rooms under the roof—a lofty bower far from any fear of being disturbed.”

  And far away from Edric and Hollin, I would imagine, thought Tania.

  The stair spiraled upward and ended in a short hall with a door at the far end. A servant opened the door, and the lord and lady ushered Tania and the others into a room already glowing with candlelight.

  “Rest easy and be refreshed,” said Lady Derval, gesturing for the servants to leave. “Sleep well, honored guests. Sweet dreams attend you.”

  All good-nights were said, and Rathina, Tania, and Connor found themselves alone at last. Connor explored the comfortably furnished room, opening doors and finding three bedrooms beyond.

  Tania walked to the tall open window and looked down over the lake and out across the distant, night-shrouded forest.

  “So, what words passed between you and the captain of Weir?” asked Rathina.

  Tania turned. It was time to tell them of Edric’s offer.

  “You don’t actually believe him, do you?” Connor demanded when she had finished. “For heaven’s sake— first he tries to brainwash you with that nasty mojo of his, then when that’s a bust, he comes up with a story of how everything will be just fine and dandy if you let him put some other kind of magic spell on you.” He snorted with derision. “He’s got to be kidding!”

  “At the very least Master Chanticleer deludes himself if he thinks he can subjugate the Dark Arts without mischief coming to him and those about him,” Rathina said with a sigh. “Is not the fate of Lord Drake proof enough of that?” Tania saw the hurt in her sister’s eyes as she spoke of the unworthy man she was doomed to love for all eternity.

  Tania had sat in an armchair to tell her tale, her legs curled up under her. “Edric says he’s a better person than Drake,” she responded, feeling for Rathina in her never-ending anguish.

  “Does he? By the spirits,” murmured Rathina, “that were a pretty conceit. My lord Drake was a kind and noble soul until. . . .” Her voice trailed off, but it was obvious what she had been going to say.

  Until the Dark Arts ruined him.

  Tania looked sympathetically at her sister. “Edric is certain he can control the Dark Arts.”

  “He would!” scoffed Connor. “And he’s not going to find out he’s wrong till it’s too late. And to turn up with Hollin of all people!” He paced the floor. “Listen. I’ll tell you what’s really going on here. My guess is Aldritch sent them after us, and their orders are to get us back to Weir any way they can. Aldritch has already made it clear that he’s not on Oberon’s team anymore—for all we know, he’s planning a rebellion. And if he i
s, what better bargaining chips than two of Oberon’s daughters locked up in his castle?” He glared at Tania. “That’s what this is all about! And if we’ve got any sense at all, we’ll get out of here right now and put as many miles between them and us as quickly as possible.”

  Tania turned to Rathina, who was sitting cross-legged on the carpet with her iron sword across her lap. “What do you think, Rathina?” she asked.

  “I think slipping away from here at dead of night will not be a simple task,” she said. “We know not where our horses are stabled nor where we might find provisions for our road. And how are we to cross the lake? Will the stars form a bridge once more—for if not it will be a long swim. And what of Lord Balor and his hunters? ’Tis too much to expect they have left off the chase. We may find ourselves entrapped and carried back to Dorcha Tur.”

  Tania nodded. “And we came here for a purpose, don’t forget,” she said. “We came here to find out all we could about Erin. I’d hoped to have a quiet word with Lord Cillian and Lady Derval during the evening, but I never really got the chance, not with their servants all over the place. But we need to speak to them, guys, and we can’t do that till morning.” She sighed and unfolded her legs. “Here’s the plan,” she said. “We go to bed and get a good night’s sleep. Then in the morning I’ll make it really clear to Edric that I’m not prepared to let him use the Dark Arts on me.” She frowned. “In fact, I want to make it clear that I don’t want him using the Dark Arts again, ever.”

  “And if he won’t listen?” asked Connor.

  “I’m hoping he will,” Tania said. “Then we’ll talk to the lord and lady and see if they can tell us anything about Erin.”

  “And then away—like arrows from the bow!” said Rathina.

  “Exactly,” Tania said, getting up and heading for the closed door of a bedroom. She turned the handle, looking back at them. “Don’t worry. Remember what the lord and lady told us: No one who means harm can come to the island. Hollin might be as bad as ever, but he’s not going to cause us any problems while we’re here. The old magic won’t let him!”