Faerie Path #6: The Charmed Return (15 page)

“At who?” Tania asked, intrigued by this.

“Do I look like I have eyes in the back of my head?” said Jade. “And there was something else. . . .”

“What?”

“Every now and then he’d stop and he’d say. ‘Can you hear that?’ and I’d say, ‘What?’ and he’d say, ‘Do you not hear it—the distant sound of hooves?’ and I’d be like, ‘Hooves? What hooves?’” Jade made a clicking sound with her tongue. “Hooves!” she said. “Y’know, Tania, I think there’s something kind of wacky about some of these people.”

Tania felt as if a black abyss was yawning at her back. “Did he say anything else about the hooves?” she asked.

“Just that they were getting louder all the time,” said Jade. “Listen, girl—I’m wiped out. Let’s get some sleep.”

Jade turned over so that she was facing away from Tania. Within seconds her breathing had deepened with sleep.

Hooves? Titus could hear hooves?

What was going on? First Sancha and then Rathina had talked of a dark horse . . . and now Titus was hearing approaching hooves.

What was coming?

Chapter XXIV

A dark dream.

Tania alone on the downs on a cold and windswept night. Stumbling under a moonless sky. Calling.

“Edric! Edric!”

A sound borne to her on the chill north wind. Hooves. Galloping hooves.

Something monstrous, coming for her down the long miles from the frozen north. Something with red flames in its eyes.

Red flames. Stamping hooves. A scarlet mane flying.

And then she was standing at the foot of the Dolorous Tower, ankle-deep in dead birds—more rotting feathered carcasses raining down on her. And a voice, chanting a broken rhythm.

Tania shouted into the night. “Cordelia? Is that you?”

Then everything was different and Tania was in the Obsidian Chamber in Caer Liel. The whole room was crowded with armed men. Lord Aldritch was standing on the throne plinth. Edric knelt in front of him, and the lord was addressing the crowd.

“By the ancient laws of Weir, it is fulfilled!”

Tania struggled and fought to get through the shoulder-to-shoulder throng—to get to Edric before something terrible happened.

There was a roar of approval from the congregation at their lord’s words.

Moaning with frustration, Tania strove to make headway through the gathered knights of Weir. But they crowded around her, making any progress almost impossible, their cheers deafening her to the galloping hooves that thundered in her mind.

At last she broke clear of the men. Edric was standing at Lord Aldritch’s side, and the lord’s arm was about his shoulders and his voice was loud enough to be heard above the din.

“And now, with the ritual of Adoption complete, give thanks, my knights—give thanks that there is now a new heir to the throne of Weir!” shouted Aldritch. “A son lost—but a son gained!”

Edric smiled fiercely, his eyes blazing silver.

“Edric! No!” Tania’s voice sounded weak in her own ears.

Edric raised his arms and the crowd quieted. “Great deeds we have ahead of us!” he shouted. “To arms, men of Weir! At dawn tomorrow we ride to war.”

“No!” Tania screamed.

“And the first to die shall be the half-thing, Tania Aurealis!” Edric drew a black sword and lifted it on high. “And she shall never know the truth—she shall never know how she has been deceived.”

From the blade of the black sword ravens flew into Tania’s face, pecking and clawing at her.

As soon as it was light the next morning, Tania made her way to the Queen’s apartments, hoping desperately that Titania might be able to shed some light on the nightmares that were blighting her sleep.

She remembered the first time that “Anita” had visited these apartments—the white rooms empty and cheerless and the Queen lost for centuries. But far more intense than that bleak memory were happy recollections of her childhood—speeding on silken wings up the curving white marble staircase to the domed lobby with the tall white doors, bursting in full of tales of her exploits, flying into her Faerie mother’s welcoming arms, breathing in the scent of lilies.

These elegant, sunlit rooms held for her more sense of comfort and cheer than any other place in Faerie. The Queen would unravel the dark tangle of her nightmares—Titania would soothe away her fears.

Tania found the Queen in the main room of her apartments: a room decked out in white and ivory, with a swan’s down carpet and snowy couches and furniture of creamy woodwork. Tall bay windows stood open to allow the breeze to blow through white lace curtains.

Titania was at her desk in the bay window, speaking with a lady of the court—talking over arrangements for the masques and plays and entertainments that would form part of the coming festival.

Seeing the agitation on Tania’s face, the Queen dismissed the lady.

“Come, sit with me,” Titania said. “Speak to me of your troubles.”

Tania sat at the Queen’s side on a fleecy couch by the bay window. Titania drew Tania close.

“What is wrong, Tania?” the Queen asked. “Are you uneasy about the role you must play in the Pure Eclipse?”

Tania looked into the Queen’s face—that face that was so very much like her own. “I’m having bad dreams.”

“Tell me.”

In the reassuring curve of her mother’s arm Tania spoke of the dreams that had haunted her last two nights. Even talking about it aloud made her fears diminish.

“It must be very distressing for you, Tania,” said the Queen. “But these are no more than nightmares, child—they are not real.”

“Are you sure?” Tania asked, looking into Titania’s face.

“I am certain of it. You grieve for the loss of your sister—as you should—that is why you dream of her voice and of the birds.” She smiled gently. “And as for Edric becoming Lord Aldritch’s son and waging war on us— Why, fie! Tania! What a foolish fancy that is.”

“And the horse?” she asked. “The galloping?”

“You yourself said that Rathina had teased you with talk of a dark horse coming,” said Titania. “You were ever a most suggestible child, Tania. Your dreams were always full of strange imaginings.” She pulled away a little and took Tania’s shoulders between her long white hands. “’Tis time to put aside these fears, Tania—you are grown too old for such antics!”

Tania looked into her mother’s green eyes.

“Not all dreams are prophetic, Tania,” insisted the Queen. “Even in Faerie it is possible for a dream to be no more than a dream.”

Tania smiled. “You’re right,” she said. “I was being an idiot.” She leaned forward and kissed her mother’s cheek. “I’ll leave you to your work now,” she said, getting up. “Sorry I was such a nuisance.”

“No need to apologize, Tania,” said the Queen. “I am always here for you—for any of you.”

Reassured, Tania headed for the doors.

“Tania?” There was a sudden urgency in the Queen’s voice.

“Yes?”

“Do not listen to the hooves, child,” she said. “And do not go near the Dolorous Tower—it is a dangerous place. The Dolorous Tower has not been used for a long time. Not for hundreds of years.”

She looked at her mother, puzzled a little by the oddness of this sudden warning. “Okay, I won’t.”

Tania closed the white doors behind her and began to descend the long winding stairway.

“Does the word ‘paranoid’ mean anything to you?” asked Jade.

The two friends were heading out through the gardens, intending to take a look at the preparations for the coming celebration. Trying to sound reasonably casual, Tania had mentioned to Jade her mother’s parting words.

“You mean, you don’t think there’s anything weird going on?” Tania said.

Jade laughed aloud. “Oh, there’s plenty of weird stuff going on,” she said. “Everything about this place is weird, if you ask me. But if you mean do I think the Queen is going freaky on you, then no, of course not.”

“But you said Titus mentioned the galloping hooves,” Tania insisted. “That’s four different people all taking
hooves
—and I’m hearing hooves in my dreams.”

“That’s called autosuggestion,” Jade said. “People mention hooves—you hear hooves in your sleep. And anyway, what’s so bad about hooves? Maybe hearing hooves is all part of this Pure Eclipse thing that’s going to happen; have you thought of that?”

“Why hooves?”

“Why not? Does this place run on logic suddenly?”

“No, not really. . . .”

“Oh, look! Is that, like, for jousting?” Jade exclaimed, pointing to a flat grassy area beyond the gardens. “I’ve always fancied jousting!” Yellow and blue tents had been set up ahead of them, and a wooden barrier ran along the center of an oblong track marked out by low wicker fences. Close by, new-built paddocks housed a number of horses in fine gear, tended by grooms while richly caparisoned knights watched on. Multicolored shields were propped alongside the tents. Wooden lances, ten or twelve feet long, were gathered in frames, their sharp tips pointing to the sky.

“What are you talking about, Jade?” said Tania. “You’ve never ridden a horse in your life.”

“I could learn.”

“Or not!” Tania said. “I’m not taking you home with two broken legs and half a dozen great big holes punched through you. Oh, hi, Mrs. Anderson—yes, sorry about this—Jade wanted to try her hand at jousting!” She hooked her arm into Jade’s. “Let’s go look at something a little less dangerous.”

Between the gardens and the rising downs the whole landscape was a noisy chaos of stalls and sideshows still being put together, and of larger covered stages being erected and rings and arenas being staked out for sporting events.

Wagons rolled by, stopping to disgorge bails of colored silk or timbers or barrels and caskets of goods and gear. Some folk were hanging rainbow bunting while others dug holes and sank flagpoles where the banners of the eleven earldoms would flutter. Except, of course, that the white unicorn of Weir was not in evidence.

But if Edric’s mission goes well, who knows? Even Lord Aldritch might join in the revels.

Tania and Jade watched tumblers and jugglers rehearsing until the smell of something sweet being baked drew them on. A long tent housed a kitchen where pies were being made. They left the cheerful cook, each with a large slice of cherry pie in their hands.

Tania spotted Eden at one of the tents. She left Jade playing tag with some children and went to speak with her eldest sister. She was at the open mouth of a dark blue tent that seemed to be filled with small wooden crates.

“Well met, sweetheart,” said Eden. “The Queen tells me you have been suffering unsettling dreams. ’Tis too bad of you, sister, to darken such a glorious time with such a thing!”

“It’s nothing,” Tania said. “To be honest, I’m more worried about what I have to do in the Cavern of Heartsdelving.” She wrinkled her forehead. “Are you sure I’m up to it, Eden? I don’t even really understand what I have to do. How do I keep the two worlds apart with my mind? How do I
think
them apart? I don’t have the faintest idea how it’s going to work.”

“Have no fears, my sister,” said Eden. “Master Raphael will be with you when the time comes—he will tell you what must be done.”

“All the same, I’d like the chance to rehearse a little—just in case. Do you know what I mean?”

“You fret over nothing,” Eden said. She reached out and touched the pads of her fingertips against Tania’s temple. “Your mind is all turmoil and chaos!” she said.

“Tell me about it!” Tania muttered.

“At least let me do this little thing for you.” Eden touched the tip of her forefinger to the center of Tania’s forehead. Tania felt a small shock pass from Eden’s finger into her mind.

“What was that?” she asked.

“A Traumlos glamour—a dream-dwindling charm, no more than that,” said Eden with a smile. “You shall suffer no ill dreams this night, sweet sister.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“And now, I have work to do.” She gestured into the tent. “I am to place glamours on these firiencraft—so that the sky on the eve of the Pure Eclipse will be filled with wonders!”

“Firiencraft?” said Tania, puzzled for a moment by the word. “Oh!” She remembered. “You mean fireworks!”

Yes! She recalled now the great carnivals and festivities of her childhood, when the night would be full of music and laughter and Eden’s mystically charged fireworks would make a glorious pageant of the sky!

She left her sister and went to look for Jade.

Her friend was sprawled in the grass with little Faerie children tumbling all over her. Jade was laughing so much she could hardly breathe.

“Have you ever tried playing tag with kids who can fly?” She gasped as the children grabbed at her from all sides and lifted her into the air, hauling her up out of the grass and yanking at her till her legs were swinging several inches above the ground.

One small child flew at Tania. “You’re it!” she cried, skittering away, her wings whirring.

“Oh no, you don’t!” called Tania, haring after her and snatching at the child as she soared up out of reach in a peal of laughter.

Until the children were called away by their parents for the evening meal, Tania forgot all her troubles in the riot and lunacy of wing-tag with the children.

When she went to bed that night, she slept a serene and dreamless sleep.