The Lost Queen (10 page)

Tania was on stage, lying across Edric with her eyes closed. The play had reached its tragic climax and both of them were dead, Romeo by drinking poison, Juliet by a self-inflicted stab wound. She listened to the moment of absolute silence that followed the Prince's closing speech, and then couldn't help but grin widely as she heard the applause come rolling over the stage from the packed hall.

She opened one eye and saw the red velvet curtains sweep across the front of the stage, blocking out
the view of the audience but allowing the applause and the cheering to come welling through.

There was a mad scramble to clear the stage. Mrs. Wiseman was in the wings, urging them off. “Brilliant!” she was saying, her face split by a gigantic smile. “You were all absolutely brilliant!”

The next few minutes passed in a whirl for Tania. She was aware of standing crowded together with the other performers in the wing of the stage, her hand tightly holding Edric's hand, her heart pounding, the blood singing like angels in her ears. In front of her people peeled off, running onto the stage to take their bows.

There was a push in her back and she and Edric ran into the open space in the middle of the stage. The entire audience was on its feet, cheering and clapping and whistling. Tania and Edric bowed low.

They stood up and the rest of the cast moved forward to stand level with them, linking hands to take another bow. The curtain swept closed in front of them.

The stage lights dimmed. Gradually the applause died down to a few final whistles and shouts, and then there was the noise of people getting up to leave, the voices an excited hubbub of noise beyond the curtain.

“That was wonderful,” Mrs. Wiseman said. “I'm so proud of you! You've all worked really hard.”

Then there was the rush to get through the constricted space of the wings, down the back stairs, and along to the basement storeroom where they could get changed. A makeshift screen had been set up to
separate the boys from the girls. Still trembling with excitement, Tania stepped out of her gown and climbed into her ordinary clothes.

There were refreshments set up on a table. She didn't feel in the least bit hungry, but she had a long swig of orange juice. She saw Edric at the other end of the room, chatting to some of the other cast members.

He spotted her watching him. He grinned and waved, and mouthed, “I'll be with you in a second.” She nodded, blissfully happy.

The principal came to congratulate everyone. Mrs. Wiseman was buzzing around, thanking everyone all over again.

“Are you coming for a pizza with the rest of us?” Tania was asked.

“Yes. Of course I am,” she said. “Just give me a minute.” She needed to find her parents first. They had been watching her from the far end of the third row. She had caught sight of them very early on, but from then on she had deliberately avoided looking toward that part of the audience and did her best to forget they were there at all. For her, parents and performing didn't mix; they made her feel too self-conscious.

She edged her way through the milling people and came out into the corridor like a cork coming out of a bottle. More people were out there—students with their parents, guests, teachers, school governors, all chatting excitedly about the performance.

“You were marvelous, Anita!”

“Thanks, Mrs. Taylor.”

She saw her parents making their way along the corridor.

“A star is born!” called her father, opening his arms as she ran forward.

“Did you enjoy it?” she asked, gathered in a hug by both parents.

“It was stunning, truly it was,” said her mother.

Tania beamed. “The others are heading off for a pizza. I said I'd go with them.”

Her parents didn't respond and Tania's smile faded as she looked into their faces.

“Is there a problem?”

“Will Evan be going with you?” her mother asked.

Tania gave a surprised laugh. “I should think so,” she said. “They're hardly going to forget Romeo. He's not really dead, you know. He was just acting.”

“Then we'd rather you came home with us,” her mother said, ignoring her joke.

Tania stared at her.
Miss the after-play celebrations?
They had to be kidding.

“We think it's for the best,” her father added. “You know why.”

Tania frowned. “Listen, I know you don't want me seeing Evan, but this isn't a
date
. There'll be about fifteen of us there. It's not like we're going to sneak off around the back for a quick snog.”

“You're still under curfew,” said her mother, and there was a sharp tone in her voice. “You agreed to our terms, home by nine at the latest.” She glanced at
her watch. “It's nearly ten now.”

“I don't believe this,” Tania hissed. “You'd actually stop me going out to celebrate with the others because of a stupid curfew?”

She saw the eye-line of her mother and father shift. They were both looking at something over her shoulder—and from their stony expressions, she could guess who they were looking at.

She turned. Edric was heading along the crowded corridor toward them.

Tania walked to meet him, stopping him in his tracks. “This isn't a good time,” she warned.

He glanced at her parents. “Trouble?” he asked. “I thought I'd come and say hello.”

She shook her head. “Not now. They don't want me to go to the pizza parlor with the rest of you.”

“That's not fair.”

“I know, but there's nothing I can do about it,” Tania said. “Remember, you and I are going to Richmond tomorrow. I don't want to have a big row with my parents now. It's not worth it.”

Edric hesitated.

“Please!” she said, pressing her hand against his chest. “Just go. Tell the others I've got a headache.”

Edric shot a final bleak glance at her parents before pushing his way back along the corridor. Tania took a deep breath then turned and walked back to where her mother and father were waiting.

“Okay,” she said, her voice cold and clipped. “You win. Let's get out of here.”

She stalked ahead of them along the corridor. She managed to fake a smile and a pleasant response for the few people she met on the way to the car.

She climbed into the back, sitting very stiff and tense as her mother and father got in.

Her mother turned to look at her. “I'm very sorry if we've upset you,” she said. “But you agreed that you would stop seeing that boy outside school.”

“Yes,” Tania said sharply. “I did. So?”

“Oh, please,” her mother said. “I saw how you were with him just then. At least you'll have no reason to see him for the next few weeks now that the term is over. And perhaps when you come back from Florida, your head will have cleared a bit.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Tania said.

“It means you're obviously not over him yet,” said her mother. “You need to make a clean break.”

“Hey, let's not start an argument,” said her father. “We've just had an amazing evening. Let's not ruin it.”

“It's not me who's ruining it,” Tania said.

The rest of the journey passed in a simmering, resentful silence. Tania just wanted to get home and get away from her parents before she said some things she would regret.

They were almost home when her mother broke the silence.

“I will not apologize for preventing you from seeing that boy,” she said.

“Why are you being like this?” It irritated Tania that her voice sounded so shrill.

“I'm being like this because you obviously have a crush on him, Anita,” said her mother. “And until you get it out of your system, it's our duty as your parents to stop you from doing any more stupid and dangerous things because of him.”

“Don't call me Anita. My name's Tania.”

“Then listen to me,
Tania
. The bottom line is you're still a child, and as long as you live under our roof, you will obey our rules.”

Mr. Palmer pulled into the curb and stopped the car. Incandescent with rage, Tania threw the car door open. “I am not a child!” she screamed, struggling out of the car and standing on the pavement, glaring in at her mother. “For heaven's sake, don't you know who I am?”

Her mother opened her door and stepped out of the car. “You know,” she said, and her voice was horribly calm and quiet, “there are times when I really don't.”

Tania stormed into her bedroom and slammed the door. Panting and shaking with rage, she walked toward the window. Halfway, she made a small side step.

She stood there, silent and still and moon-bathed in the upper room of Bonwn Tyr. She felt exhausted by anger, twisted and wrenched and warped by it.

For heaven's sake, don't you know who I am?

In her rage, she had come close to blurting out the truth:
You can't treat me like this. I am a princess of Faerie!

She looked over her shoulder, imagining her parents coming up to her room, opening the door, finding…nothing.

“I don't care,” she said aloud. “Let them!”

She turned and ran down the spiral stair. She crossed the stone floor and opened the door. Shreds of white cloud scudded across the starry sky. The moon was shining down between the branches of the aspen trees, so big and full that it stopped her in her tracks. She reached up with both arms, curling her fingers so that it looked as if she was holding the moon between her hands.

She stepped out of the grove of trees. The palace glowed with lights: Amber and orange and red and warm yellow. A nightingale piped from somewhere nearby. Another answered from farther off, its high clear voice rippling through the crystal air.

Feeling like a sailor cast onto a serene green island in the aftermath of a shipwreck, Tania began to walk down toward the palace. She had not gone far when she noticed a small dark shape moving up the hill toward her. She paused, peering down the long moonlit slope.

It was an animal. A horse, maybe? No, not a horse. She could see wide branching antlers growing up from its head.

A stag!

Delighted and intrigued, she sat on the grass and waited as it came closer. Now she could hear the steady thud of its hooves on the turf. Now she could see the rough brown fur and the black cloven fore-hooves rising and falling. She could see the muscles
bunching under the skin. She could see the huge dark eyes and the steady nod of the head.

The magnificent creature came to a halt in front of her. It lowered its head and snorted, moonlight reflecting silver in its wise eyes.

“Hello there,” Tania said, reaching out carefully to stroke the velvet soft muzzle.

The stag snorted again and nudged her hand with its head, one forehoof striking the ground impatiently.

Tania got to her feet. The animal walked a slow, stately circle around her and then waited, facing the palace.

“You want me to ride you?” Tania guessed.

A nod of the heavy head. A snort.

“I don't even know if I can get onto your back.” She was wearing jeans, but the stag seemed dauntingly tall, although it was clearly waiting for her to climb on.

“Okay,” she said. “I hope I don't hurt you.” She threw her arms over the broad back, then flexed her knees and sprang. She wasn't quite sure how she managed it, but somehow she found herself with her feet clear of the ground, sprawled across the creature's bony back. She wriggled and squirmed and managed to get one leg over the stag. Then it was just a case of evening up her posture and using her hands to lift herself into a sitting position.

Tania sat astride the stag, her feet dangling, the
spine making a somewhat uncomfortable ridge underneath her. She had her palms spread out flat on the animal's shoulders. The antlers rose up like many-fingered hands in front of her eyes. With a final snort, as if of approval, the creature began to trot back down the hill the way it had come.

Tania was not comfortable. She didn't even feel particularly safe, perched up there on that broad, lumpy back while the trotting animal jounced her up and down like a rag doll. But she didn't fall off, and all the time, the palace was drawing nearer.

The thud of hooves on grass changed to the crunching of gravel as the stag made its way through the gardens. They approached the gatehouse and Tania saw a slender figure standing at the head of the steps that led to the arched doors.

“Cordelia!” she shouted. Of course. Who else could have sent a stag to come and fetch her?

Cordelia waved and ran down the steps.

The stag halted, pushing its muzzle into Cordelia's shoulder as she lifted her hands to fondle its head. “Well met by moonlight, Tania,” Cordelia said with a grave smile. “And thank you, my lord, for playing the beast of burden.”

Tania slid off the stag's back. The ride had been an extraordinary experience, but she felt glad to have her feet back on solid ground.

Tania rested her hand on the stag's thick, muscular neck. “Thank you,” she said. “What's his name?”

Cordelia's eyes were filled with moonlight.
“Animals do not like their true names to be spoken aloud,” she said.

“Oh. Okay.” Tania patted the stag's neck again. “Well, tell him thanks very much from me.”

Cordelia brought her lips close to the stag's ear and spoke in a low voice. Tania couldn't make out the words, but the sound was like the wind in trees, the soft pad of hooves on pine needles, the swoop of an owl's wings.

The stag bowed its head to Cordelia then turned and trotted away.