The Enchanted Quest (6 page)

“In the waking world, Tania?” crooned the voice. “Nay, that I cannot do. Indeed, it is hard enough for me to speak with you now that you are so far from the land. My powers are bound to Faerie, and once you are beyond sight of the Realm, my voice will be gone. But listen well to me while you can, Tania Aurealis,” whispered the voice. “Listen and take good heed.”

Tania had to lean closer now; the voice was getting fainter by the moment.

“It is good news that I bring to you,” sighed the voice. “Once you are upon the open ocean and the Immortal Realm is lost to sight, the doom of the earls of Faerie will hold no sway.”

Tania frowned, her ear almost to Rathina’s mouth. “What does that mean?” she asked. “I don’t understand.”

“The portals, Tania,” breathed the weakening voice. “. . . only . . . the ways between . . . only in Faerie . . . are . . . they . . .”

The voice was gone.

“No!” groaned Tania, staring into Rathina’s eyes. The silver sheen had vanished; her sister’s eyes were wide and dark. “No! I don’t understand what you mean!”

Rathina’s body convulsed and she sat up, her eyes alive again, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she breathed. Her fingers gripped Tania’s wrist. “What matter was that?” she hissed. “It felt like that time beneath the waves.”

“It was,” Tania said.

Rathina’s eyes narrowed. “I pray for a time when I shall meet that creature face to face,” she growled. “Then shall I show her in full measure how it feels to be overborne and made powerless by another!” She frowned. “What words did she have for you?”

“I’m not really sure,” said Tania. “She was trying to tell me something. Good news, she said. But I didn’t get it before she . . .”

“Before we lost the signal,” Connor said. He shook his head. “It’s like when you drive too far from a local radio station. It gets fainter and fainter and then— pop! It’s gone.” He scratched his head. “There is a kind of logic to this world sometimes,” he said. “I’m just going to have to fit it all together piece by piece.”

“What did the creature say?” asked Rathina.

“She said the doom of Faerie would hold no sway . . .” Tania began hesitantly.

“Not quite,” said Connor. “What she actually said was that once we were out on the open sea, the doom of the earls of Faerie would hold no sway.”

“Yes. That was it.”

“And then she said something about the portals and the ways between,” Connor added. “And then we lost her. I suppose we could always turn around and go back—you know, see if we can pick up the signal again.”

“Against such a wind as this?” said Rathina as a squall hit the sails and the boat rocked, making them all reach for safe handholds. “Nay, it would be too arduous an endeavor. We have no time for such an enterprise.”

“Wait!” Tania said sharply. “Just wait a minute!” She shut her eyes tight, trying to think. Trying to fit the Dream Weaver’s words together to form a coherent whole.

She lifted her head. “Yes!” she said. “I’ve got it! I’m sure I have!” She looked from one face to the other. “The doom of the earls was that the ways between the worlds would be shut down forever,” she said eagerly, a new hope kindling in her even as she spoke. “I think the Dream Weaver was trying to tell me that once we’re out of sight of Faerie, I’ll be able to get back to London again—back to Mum and Dad.” She looked into Connor’s face. “You’ll be able to get home!” She laughed for pure joy. “We can both get back!”

“Yes!” Connor shouted, reaching impulsively toward Tania. “Yes! That’s exactly what she meant!”

They hugged tightly. Tania knew how much this must mean to him—how heavily his exile had been weighing on his mind since they had walked beneath the waves.

“We can go home!” Connor’s voice was loud in Tania’s ear as his arms wrapped around her. “Oh my god! I can hardly believe it!” He drew back, his hands on her shoulders, his face elated. “But it makes sense; of course it does. The King and Queen and all those earls have plenty of power
inside
Faerie—but once you move out of range, they can’t do a thing!”

“I think you’re right!” Tania exclaimed. “But how can we be certain?”

“Try that side step thing of yours,” Connor suggested.

“What,
here
?” Tania said, her voice full of laughter as another gust of wind sent the boat rocking. “Don’t be daft. This is a Faerie boat—it would disappear if I moved into the Mortal World. I’d be splashing about in the sea!”

“No, you’re right; that’s not a great idea.” Connor looked intensely at her. “But when can we try it? How far are we from Alba?”

“I don’t know.”

“Whist awhile!” came Rathina’s calm voice, breaking sharply into their elation. “Ere we try to dance upon a rose thorn’s tip, let the task upon which we are bound not be entirely forgotten.” She looked soberly at them. “I am glad indeed that your exile here may not be permanent, Master Connor, and I am blithe beyond measure that you, my sweet sister, can seek out your Mortal parents—but long is the road before us, and several are the strange lands we must cross to get to journey’s end.”

“Oh yes, of course!” Tania burst out, pushing Connor’s hands away and reaching out to grip Rathina’s fingers. “But you can’t blame us for being excited—we thought we’d never get back again, ever. This means so much to Connor—it’s going to make such a difference to him to know he can get home.”

Connor looked at her. “Has it really been that obvious?” he asked.

“You have been kind of grouchy,” she said. “But I totally understood why.”

“Well, paint me officially un-grouchy from now on.” Connor laughed. “And as soon as we get to Alba—Tania can do her thing and pop us back into Ireland—even if it’s only for a few minutes, you know? Long enough to phone home!” He looked at Tania. “You’ll be able to call your mum and make sure your dad is doing okay.”

“Yes,
yes
!” cried Tania. “And even if I can never move between the worlds in Faerie ever again, so long as I can do it in Alba, everything will be fine. It’ll be more complicated, and it’ll be way more time-consuming, of course, but there are ferries and airplanes that go from Ireland to England all the time.”

“You can commute.” Connor laughed again. “Between Faerie and Earth and between Ireland and England. That’ll be pretty cool!”

“And you can get on with your life,” said Tania. She sucked in a deep breath and let it out explosively. “Oh, please! Let it be true! Just let it really be true.”

Connor let out a gasp and dropped to his knees, his hands over his face. “I can go home,” he said, his voice choking as the full realization finally hit him. Tania touched her fingertips to his bowed head, understanding what this moment must mean to him.

She straightened, gazing back the way they had come. The bright glow of the Gildensleep was a slender golden thread on the horizon. The sky above was filling with blue daylight—and ahead of them, just out of sight, lay the land of Alba and the chance to put hope to the test!

It was exactly as Titania has prophesied when they had spoken in the water-mirror in the darkness and misery of the previous night.

This really was a glad new day.

“Then let us sail swift to Alba!” cried Rathina, heading for the tiller. “We have drifted off our true course. Tania, get the Mortal to his feet! There is work to be done if we are to make safe landfall.”

Tania sat in the stern of the sailboat eating an apple while the blustery wind blew through her hair. Connor was at the tiller now—all through the long day the three of them had taken turns to guide the
Blessèd Queen
ever onward.

Rathina was at the prow, staring out over the sea.

The sky was cloudless but hazy above, and the sea was a wide green wheel, featureless, endless, enigmatic. And they at the hub. Quite alone.

“I’ve never been out of sight of land before,” Tania said, turning her head to slowly take in the view of the horizon. “Not in a boat, I mean. In an airplane, yes— but that’s different, isn’t it? You look down from an airplane and it’s kind of not quite real. Like CGI effects in a movie. But being on a little boat like this, out in the middle of nowhere . . .” She gave a shiver. “It’s a weird feeling.” She glanced at Connor. “Don’t you think?”

He blinked and looked at her. “Sorry?” he said. “I was miles away. What were you saying?”

“Oh, nothing,” Tania said, leaning an arm over the side and trailing her hand in the water, feeling the drag of their speed slapping against her fingers. “Nothing in particular.”

The wind blew still from the east, but a lot of its power was gone—it had lessened the farther west they sailed, and now, with the day fading and the sun low on the empty western horizon, it had grown gusty and difficult to gauge.

“What were you thinking about, then?” Tania asked him.

“The secret of immortality,” he said, his eyes narrowed against the glare of the yellowing sun.

“Connor, there is no secret,” she told him. “It’s not like splitting the atom or discovering a cure for cancer. Immortality just
is
. This is not a world where you can solve everything scientifically—I thought you’d be getting the hang of that by now.”

“I think you’re wrong,” Connor said mildly. He smiled as though to encourage her to follow his reasoning. “Just because no one here
knows
how it works, that doesn’t mean it can’t be figured out.” His eyes shone. “Imagine it, Tania. The secret of immortality.” He held a hand out, palm upward. “Right there—right there in our hand. Imagine the reception we’d get back home. The Estabrook-Palmer Cure for Death.” Tania looked at him without speaking, but it did not pass her by that his name came first—and that she was Palmer and not Aurealis.

“We’d get the Nobel Prize for medicine for sure,” he continued. “We’d be world famous. Benefactors of humanity. They’d go crazy for us!”

She laughed gently. “You’re crackers,” she said charitably. “But go for it, if it gives you any pleasure. Knock yourself out!”

The boat rocked suddenly. Tania turned and saw that Rathina had risen to her feet. She was standing tall in the prow, staring hard into the east, a look of alarm and concern on her face.

“Rathina? What is it?” Tania called. She followed the line of her sister’s eyes but could see nothing— nothing but the smooth, dappled jade green face of the sea.

“Danger!” Rathina called. “Danger blown on the wind!”

“I can’t see anything,” Connor called, twisting his head to scan the horizon. “What kind of danger?”

“Someone is calling on the Dark Arts,” Rathina said. “We are being followed!”

“Are you sure?” Tania was on her feet now, balancing herself with a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “There’s nothing there, Rathina.”

“It is coming nonetheless,” said Rathina, moving down the vessel. “It is upon the water.” She looked at Tania. “Do not doubt me, sister. I know the taint of the Dark Arts in the air. We are pursued.”

“How?” Tania asked. “How could anyone have got out of Faerie? Everyone should be asleep.”

“Ask me not how, Tania,” Rathina replied. “Simply believe what I tell you. A darkness dogs our trail, and it will go ill for us if we do not outrun it.”

“We can probably put on a knot or two if we pay more attention to the wind,” Connor said. “Rathina, will you take the tiller? I’ll work the boom. If there is something nasty behind us, let’s make sure we stay well away from it.”

Tania knew to get out of the way as Connor loosened the ropes that held the boom. He began to feed them out, letting the long wooden pole swing, feeling for the wind in the mainsail. Tania clung to the mast as the boat picked up speed. She stared uneasily into the east.

Nothing. Not a sign of pursuit. Not a speck, not a dot, not a shadow on the sea.

But she knew better than to question Rathina’s instincts. Somewhere out there something ruinous was stalking them.

As the daylight faded, Tania felt sure she could discern the faintest possible hint of a golden hem to the eastern sky: the Gildensleep, lost beyond the horizon but coloring the darkling sky nonetheless.

They had made good speed into the evening, although it had been hard work for Connor in particular, pulling on the ropes, swinging the heavy boom across the boat so that the mainsail caught every last breath of wind.

Tania turned her eyes westward again, peering out across the sea, searching for the first sight of land. Her head ached from the strain, but she wasn’t prepared to let that stop her. At least she could do this one thing. At least she could . . .

She gasped. “I see something!” She stood on the wooden prow seat, leaning forward, narrowing her eyes. The sun was below the horizon, and the waning light made the sky glow lustrous as a pearl, but there, where the sea met the sky, she felt certain she saw a sliver of solid darkness that had not been there before.

“About time!” said Connor, panting. “Can you make it out yet?”

“Not really,” Tania called to him. “It’s just a kind of dark streak. But I’m pretty sure it’s land.”

“The land of Alba!” called Rathina from the stern. “Fate winds a curious thread, to be sure. And we the first of Faerie to traverse this stretch of water for ten thousand years!”

As they sailed on, huge bright Faerie stars began to appear. They appeared in ones and twos at first, twinkling in the eastern sky, but then they ignited in a silvery wash that swept across the heavens until the whole sky was ablaze.

But their light illuminated nothing, and the remoteness of the jeweled sky seemed to make the sea even more black and daunting. Tania strained her eyes. Something was approaching them: something huge and dark, rolling in ponderously over the waves.

“Fog!” she shouted. “We’re heading into some really thick fog!”

The stars and the sea and the distant land were suddenly obliterated as the thick black fog swept across their path, engulfing the small boat in its damp and blinding embrace.

“Do you see any lights on the land?” Connor called to Tania. “Any sign of towns or whatever?”

“No, I can’t see anything now,” Tania replied, looking back down the length of the boat. Even Connor’s form was misty, and in this clinging fog one darkness seemed much like another.

But as they sailed on through the fog, she fancied she could hear a new sound. Waves breaking on a faraway shore, perhaps? No. Not that.

She listened intently.

It was a creaking sound—a familiar sound she recognized but could not put a name to. Muffled groaning. A leathery straining noise. Waves slapping hollow on . . .

A ship!

That was it!

Creaking timbers. Canvas sails taut in the wind. The smack of sea on a hull.

A huge looming darkness came up fast on her left.

“Watch out!” she shouted. “There’s a ship!”

A host of red lights broke out above them in the fog. They were lanterns of red glass, swinging wildly, lining the sides of a great dark galleon, their shutters thrown back to reveal black timbers and sails and a mass of black-clad men leaning over the gunnels. There were shouts and whoops and the sound of ropes snaking down. A stone hook crashed onto the planks of the
Blessèd Queen
a couple of inches from Tania’s foot. She jumped aside as more came pounding down, cracking the timbers, sending up splinters.

“Take them alive, my lads,” called a harsh voice from out of the sky. “Do them no harm for the present. Let us learn who dares to sail these waters without Lord Balor’s leave!”

Tania spun around, instinctively reaching for the staff that lay in the bottom of the boat: a weapon against the invaders.

A black shape moved toward her, and she saw the gleam of a curved crystal knife. She swung the staff hard, hitting the knife arm just above the elbow.

There was a sharp crack and a roar of pain. Tania drew back then thrust the pole forward again. The man doubled up as the butt of the staff rammed into his stomach. She used all her weight to follow through, and the man was pushed up against the gunnels. The side of the boat took him behind the knees, and he was flipped over with a shout. A fountain of white water rose as he plunged into the sea.

Tania could see Connor by the mast struggling in the grip of three men. And in the stern Rathina was warding others away with savage sweeps of the tiller arm. But more were coming, swarming down the ropes, tipping the small vessel wildly as they leaped aboard.

A curved sword was thrust toward Tania, sparkling like the crystal swords of Faerie. She hefted the staff, parrying the blade away. A black shape came hurtling down toward her.

“Tania!” Too late she heard Connor shout a warning.

There was a blinding pain in the side of her head, and the world exploded in an agony of red fire.