The Lost Queen (6 page)

“She is playing an ocean song,” Cordelia said softly.

A few yards beyond where Zara was standing, the face of the sea began to boil and seethe. Suddenly a host of fish came leaping into the air, shedding water like jewels off their iridescent scales.

A larger shape plunged out of the water: a dolphin, its sleek sides gleaming as it twirled tail over snout before sliding beneath the waves once more. Then more dolphins joined in the wonderful marine
ballet, leaping in high curves from the sea, crossing one another's paths, shedding trails of shining water droplets, somersaulting and vanishing again into the water with a flick of their fluked tails.

Closer to the shore, where the water was shallower, a dark, hard-edged shape emerged slowly from the waves. It was a few moments before Tania could tell what it was—but then she recognized the blunt bullet head and the smooth green dome of the shell and the powerful flippers that hauled the huge turtle up into the surf.

Beside her, Cordelia stiffened. “That ancient gentleman is an unusual visitor on these shores and at such a time of year,” she murmured. “Maybe he has news for me.” She ran to the creature and crouched in front of it, her hand on its head, speaking softly to it as it lay among the lapping waves.

At last Zara brought the fluting to a stop and walked out of the sea, holding her flute in one hand and her wet skirts in the other. The fish and the dolphins vanished under the water and the surface became still again. The huge turtle turned laboriously and crawled back into the foaming sea. Cordelia came walking back to where Tania and Zara were standing, her face thoughtful.

“Is something wrong?” Tania asked.

“I do not know,” Cordelia said. “Yonder seafarer told me that he roams often beyond the rocky shores of Dinsel and out into the waters that lie between our Realm and the cruel island of Lyonesse.”

“Let us not speak of that place,” Zara pleaded. “Not tonight!”

“What's the problem?” Tania asked.

“He told me that he has seen lights in the ruined fortress of the King of Lyonesse,” Cordelia said. “Lights where there should be no lights.”

“Jack-o'-lanterns and marsh goblins belike,” Zara said with a shudder. “It is thousands of years since the King of Lyonesse and his Gray Knights brewed their evil in that haunted place. While our father holds sway in Faerie, we need never fear that deadly peril again.” She caught Tania's arm. “I have great thirst after playing such salty songs. Come, let us eat and drink and be merry. The night is yet young and we have much to see and do before morning.”

Tania looked at her. “Morning?” she said. “Zara, I can't stay that long. I'll get into big trouble if my parents find out that I'm not in my room.”

“Fie!” said Zara. “'Tis no problem. Eden will call down a fire-bearded comet for you when time runs short. You shall ride aloft, skimming the stars all the way back to the Mortal World, and none asleep there now shall ever know of your journeyings.”

Persuaded by Zara's confidence, Tania danced and sang and applauded the entertainments and hardy noticed as the huge moon floated away across the Faerie night. It was not until she saw the great white disk dropping below the hills that she realized how much time must have gone by.

She quickly went to find Eden. Her sister was
seated on a rug on the sand. She had several Faerie lords and ladies with her, and they were speaking together in subdued, urgent voices.

Seeing Tania, Eden got up.

“What were you talking about?” Tania asked. “It sounded serious.”

“Cordelia told us that lights have been seen in the Fortress of Bale Fole on Lyonesse,” Eden said. “We were discussing the possible causes for such a thing. The black fortress of Lyonesse has been deserted for a very long time—it would be grim indeed if some evil came creeping back there.”

“But the King of Lyonesse is still a prisoner in the dungeons beneath the Faerie Palace, isn't he?” Tania pictured the dusty, clouded amber globes that lined the corridors where she had gone to free Edric after he had been imprisoned by Drake. Each globe held a prisoner, an enemy of the Realm of Faerie, frozen alive in orange glass.

“Aye, and must be for all eternity,” Eden said. “In the Great Wars he came close to being our downfall and it was only the powers of King Oberon and Queen Titania combined that caused his defeat. But when Bale Fole was razed and the Sorcerer King's power overthrown, his Queen, the wicked Lady Lamia, was never found. It was hoped that she had fled, powerless without her Lord. But it might be that she has at last returned and wishes evil upon us.” Eden smiled grimly. “But enough of such talk. The lights in Bale Fole most likely portend nothing at all.
So, Tania, do you wish to return to the Mortal World?”

“Yes. Zara said you might be able to help me? Something about calling a comet down for me to ride home on?”

Eden laughed. “Zara magnifies my abilities beyond all reason! But I can be of service, I believe. Come, let you bid farewell to friends and family, then meet me down by the shore. I will have transport for us by then.”

 

The small slender boat had a single spiraling mast like the horn of a swordfish and a broad triangular sail of some strange, translucent coral-colored material. The inside of the hull glowed with a silky, mother-of-pearl sheen, its outer flanks ribbed as though made from seashells. It had only room enough for Tania to sit in the front with her back to the prow, and for Eden to sit at the back with her hand on the rudder.

Tania saw Eden's fierce eyes rise to the masthead. Her lips moved soundlessly. Moments later a wind filled the sail and the sleek vessel skimmed away from the island at a breathtaking speed. The boat moved so smoothly that Tania wondered whether it was actually touching the waves, but the fine spray that filled her eyes and sparkled in her hair suggested otherwise.

Within a few seconds the island dwindled to a bright dot and then fell away below the horizon, and she was alone with her sister on the open sea.

“Can you talk, or do you need to concentrate?”

“Once the spirits are awoken they will perform unbidden,” Eden said. “You have some burden on your mind, I think. Something that gives you unease.”

Tania nodded. “I had a dream,” she admitted. “It was about Drake.”

She described what she had seen: the lashing rain and the thunder and lightning, the knife-edged rocks, the beast that was pursuing them, Edric and her hand-in-hand—and then Edric turning into Gabriel Drake.

You will never be free of me! Did you not know? We are bonded for all time!

“The thing is, was he telling the truth?” she asked. “And what was that place?”

“The island of Maw,” Eden said, and there was a shudder in her voice. “Ynis Maw lies in desolate seas to the far north of Faerie, beyond even the bleak storm-wracked coasts of Prydein. I know of it only from books and tales. It is called the Island of No Return, sometimes the Island of Good-bye Forever.” She looked somber. “But you need have no fear of Drake, sweet sister. There is no coming back from such an exile, not while Oberon wears the crown of Faerie.”

“But could Drake…could he somehow drag me there with his mind?”

Eden frowned thoughtfully. “You should not fear the powers of the great traitor. He is pinioned on the island and I do not believe he can do more than trouble your dreams—not unless he was able to use
someone in the Mortal World to aid him, someone with the power to create a bridge between the worlds. Such people do exist in the Mortal World, I know, but they are very few and it is most unlikely that you will meet such a one.” She looked at Tania. “The Ritual of Hand-Fasting has a potency, that I will not deny, but it is nothing that you need fear. What bond there is between you has not the power to draw you to him nor he to you.”

She leaned forward and touched her fingertips to Tania's forehead. Tania felt a kind of cool contentment seep into her mind, like waves or clouds or soft summer rain.

“There, may your sister's touch banish the traitor from your mind as Oberon has banished him from Faerie,” Eden murmured. She looked over Tania's shoulder. “And see, our journey will soon be done. We are at the mouth of the river Tamesis. Can you see the lights of the Royal Palace? We will moor at the easternmost jetty of Fortrenn Quay and take a carriage to Bonwn Tyr, to the brown tower on the grassy downs.”

Tania turned her head. They were skimming the waves toward a great dark spread of land cloven by a river estuary. Eden was right: It was the Tamesis, and on the northern bank of the estuary she could see the twinkling lights of the Royal Palace. Soon she would be home.

The horse-drawn carriage came to a halt under the walls of the brown tower. Tania had stopped off at her bedchamber to change back into her ordinary
clothes and then Eden had driven her to Bonwn Tyr.

“I wonder what time it is,” Tania said.

“The night is entering the fourth quarter,” Eden said.

“I was hoping for something a bit more specific than that—like, half past two, or something.”

“Ever the mortal part of you rises up to cause confusion in your dear heart,” Eden said fondly. “We do not count out the passing moments as mortals do. Remember your Faerie soul, Tania. Let time be not your master.”

Tania sighed. “It's a nice idea,” she said. “But not very practical right now.” She kissed her sister good-bye and stepped from the carriage. “I'll come back again as soon as I can,” she promised. “And with any luck, I'll have Titania with me!”

“Fare you well, sweet Tania. May angels of mercy attend your every step both in Faerie and on the dark paths of the Mortal World.”

Tania stood at the door, watching as Eden lightly flicked the reins and the horse trotted away through the aspen trees.

She went into the tower and closed the door behind her. With the moon low in the sky, the winding stairway was dark, and she had to be careful not to miss her footing as she made her way to the upper room. She took a final wistful look from the narrow window then turned her back on the Faerie night. She filled her mind with thoughts of her Camden home. She took a deep breath and made once more the side
step between the worlds.

There was carpet under her feet, not bare floor-boards. The sound of trees whispering in the breeze had gone. Her bedroom was in deep darkness. She tiptoed to the bed and looked at the red display of her bedside clock: 3:52. No wonder she was feeling so tired.

Moving as quietly as possible, she fumbled her way around, shedding her clothes and putting on her pajamas. She sat on the edge of the bed, debating whether she should risk going to the bathroom to wash her face and clean her teeth.

She ran her tongue over her front teeth. They needed brushing. She got up and padded over to the door. She was just reaching for the handle when it turned by itself and the door opened toward her.

Startled, Tania gasped and jerked her hand away.

The door opened wider and she saw her father's face in the crack.

“Dad! You nearly frightened the life out of me! What is it?”

Her father looked unsmilingly at her. “You're back, then. Would you like to tell me exactly where you've been all night?”

Tania stared at her father in dismay.

“Where have you been, Anita?” he asked again.

“There was a party,” she said, and her voice was just a ghost in the tense darkness. “Does Mum know I went out?”

“No.”

“Are you going to tell her?”

There was a deadly pause. “No,” he said at last, and even in her misery, Tania felt a shred of relief. “I'm too angry with you to talk about this right now,” he said. “I can't even begin to tell you how disappointed I am in you.”

“I'm sorry,” she whispered.

“Go to bed now.”

He quietly closed her door. She stood there listening to the soft pad of his feet along the landing. She heard the click of her parents' bedroom door closing.

She walked to the bed and sat on the edge, her elbows on her knees, her face in her hands. Crying would be good now, if only to relieve the tension. But no tears came to wash away her pain.

She hated the lies she had to tell. She hated making her father believe she was behaving badly when all she was doing was trying to make sense of the two halves of her self. She couldn't expect her parents to come to terms with the truth of who she really was, but did that mean that she could
never
be honest with them?

Would she have to lie to them for the rest of her life?

“You are a Pisces sheep and your element is metal. Yours is the most feminine of the star signs. You are good-natured and kind-hearted, but you loathe criticism and you are ruled too often by your emotions.”

Tania was sitting to one side of the black-clothed table, only half-listening as the fortune-teller made her pitch to Jade. She had only come into this poky little cupboard at the back of the New Age Mystics shop to stop Jade talking about it all day, and her thoughts were very much elsewhere while her friend was being “read.”

Her dad had said nothing that morning about what had happened the night before. He had behaved perfectly normally at breakfast, almost as if their brief, wretched conversation had wiped the slate clean. But Tania knew that it was not forgotten—and she knew that she had let him down very badly and that she
would not be forgiven so readily a second time. Even thinking about the sight of her father's face in her bedroom doorway made her feel physically sick.

She couldn't bear to call Edric, even though she had promised she would. She knew she couldn't go with him to Richmond, not after last night. One more mouthful of lies would choke her and she didn't want to talk to him yet about what had happened. Feeling like an absolute coward, she had left him a text message.

I can't come today. Sorry. I'll explain on Monday.

Then she switched off her phone, knowing he would call her back.

And then an hour or so later, Jade called her on the house phone. “What's with turning off your cell phone, dummy? I've been calling you all morning.”

“Sorry. What's up?”

“I want to do some pre-holiday shopping at the market and I hate shopping on my own, so you're coming with me.”

“I can't.”

“Of course you can. I'll pick you up about eleven o'clock. It'll be fun. See you.”

“Jade? No—listen….”

But the line was dead.

And that had been that. Jade had arrived half an hour late as usual, and the two of them had headed over to the busy open air street market. Her father had said nothing about the outing with Jade, and her mum had been positively enthusiastic about the idea,
as if she saw it as a sign that Tania was behaving normally again.

The market was a major tourist trap, and on a hot midsummer Sunday like today the people were swarming everywhere. Tania was happy to join the jostling crowds; at least the bustle would take her mind off her problems for a while. She was looking forward to exploring the colorful stalls and shops with their tempting displays of handmade jewelry and fashion accessories, their designer clothes and arts and crafts and antiques.

But the first place that Jade had wanted to go was the fortune-teller's booth tucked away at the back of a New Age shop. She said it would be a laugh.

The fortune-teller was a small, painfully thin, middle-aged woman with a frizzy mass of dyed black hair and with bloodred lipstick on her thin lips. She had a high, nasal voice that Tania soon found grating; but Jade was obviously having a great time, her eyes wide with excitement as she leaned over the table.

“You're a hopeless romantic and you are motivated by accord,” the woman declared, examining Jade's palm. “You can be jealous, defensive, vulnerable, and unbalanced. Your season is summer, your orientation south-southwest, and you are fire negative.”

Tania stifled a sneeze. The air in the booth was thick with incense. Beyond the slightly tatty maroon curtain, she could hear two people in the shop debating the merits of tarot cards over rune stones for helping you to decide your pathway through life.

Wouldn't that be great?
Tania thought.
To leave all the difficult stuff to a handful of stones. I could live with that.

“What do you mean exactly by ‘unbalanced'?” Jade asked the woman.

“You have a predisposition toward letting your emotions overwhelm you,” the woman said. “And this can make you gloomy and negative and introverted. These are tendencies that you must learn to control.”

“Gloomy? Me?” Jade said. “No way.”

“It is also in your nature to hide these negative traits,” the woman said. “You keep them secret. I see many—”

The high, thin voice halted.

“Yes?” Jade asked. “You see many what?”

There was a long pause. Tania looked at the woman. She was staring at Jade's open hand with a puzzled expression on her face.

“What do you see many of?” Jade prompted.

The woman seemed to come out of a trance. She glanced up at Jade. “Many secrets,” she said. “But not all the secrets belong to you. Some are secrets that are hidden from you by a friend. You have a friend with a secret. A big secret.”

“Really?” Jade's voice was filled with curiosity. “Who is it? What kind of secret?”

The woman lowered her head and closed her eyes. Tania could see her eyeballs moving rapidly under the thin lids.

“It's not clear,” the woman said, and now Tania thought she could hear a hint of unease in her voice.

“It's very confused…but there's more to this friend than you could possibly imagine.”

Tania swallowed. Was this oddball woman talking about
her
?

“No!” the woman said suddenly, leaning back and letting Jade's hand fall. “There's nothing more. I can't see anything else.”

Jade frowned down at her hand. “I wanted to know if I'd meet someone on holiday,” she said. “Didn't you see any cute guys?”

The woman gave a pointy little smile. “There will be plenty of men like that in your future, my dear,” she said. “I don't need the second sight to tell you that.”

Jade grinned at Tania. “Your turn!”

“I'd rather not,” Tania began, but Jade wouldn't take no for an answer and rather than argue with her and have to spend even more time in this stuffy little room, they swapped places and Tania took the seat opposite the fortune-teller.

“She was born the same year as me, and her birthday is the thirteenth of June,” Jade told the woman as she squeezed into the other chair.

“Ah,” the woman said. “A Gemini. A woman of two halves, a woman of discontent.” She reached across the table and, reluctantly, Tania rested her hand palm upward in the waiting hands.

The woman nodded. “The roses that you pick are never so beautiful as those that are just out of reach,” she said. “But you don't blame yourself for not being
able to touch them; you blame the roses for being so obstinately beyond your grasp.”

“I wouldn't say that,” Tania said lightly, determined not to take this seriously and not even sure what the woman was trying to tell her.

The woman looked into her eyes for a moment and Tania felt a cold shiver run down her spine. “No?” the woman said. “Well, maybe not. If you say so.” She concentrated on Tania's palm again. “Your element is also metal, but there is something else, something I can't quite make out. You are not at ease with the metal part of your makeup—it gives you pain. It confuses you. The dual element of your nature pulls you in different directions. You are uncertain of who you are and of where you should be.”

The woman's eyes flickered closed and her voice lowered to little more than a whisper. “Your image is blurred…it comes and goes…you take a step and you disappear…you take another and you return…I don't understand….”

Fairly alarmed by this, Tania tried to pull her hand away. But she found she was unable to move. It was as if every muscle in her body had frozen in position: Her hand resting on the thin woman's palms, her stiff body leaning forward a little over the black table.

Fear began to well up in her. She tried to speak, to cry out, but the words were locked in her throat and she was unable to make a sound. The blood pounded thickly in her temples, making her head ring, and the throbbing of her own blood was the only sound that
Tania could hear in the deadly stifling silence.

The incense-thick air in the booth was so hot and still and heavy that she had to fight for breath. An unpleasant taste came into her mouth: The taste of rusty iron. She couldn't turn her head, but she managed to swivel her eyes toward Jade, hoping her friend would see what was happening and do something to break her free of this terrifying paralysis.

But Jade was sitting on the small chair at the side of the table, picking absently at her nail polish and completely unaware of Tania's predicament.

Then Tania heard a new sound through the thundering in her head. A voice. An echoing voice speaking very softly from far, far away. A man's voice incanting words that she could not quite catch—the same set of phrases over and over—gradually growing louder.

Tania turned her eyes to the woman's bowed head. The woman's bloodred lips were trembling, moving in time to the chanting voice. Her eyes had opened just a thin slit—and the sliver that showed under her heavy lids was silvery and flickered with a deadly light.

As Tania watched in growing terror, the woman's eyes opened wider and a pair of cold, silver eyes stared up at her through the tangle of her black fringe. And at the same moment Tania recognized the voice and finally, with a terrible, chilling clarity, she was able to hear what it was saying.

“You will never be free of me! Did you not know? We are bonded for all time!”

The eyes staring at her from the woman's face were Gabriel Drake's eyes, and the voice coming from her mouth was his voice.

Through the horror that was darkening her mind, Tania recalled Eden's words:

You should not fear the powers of the great traitor…I do not believe he can do more than trouble your dreams—not unless he was able to use someone in the Mortal World to aid him—someone with the power to create a bridge between the worlds
.

She had been crazy to come here. Tania realized that now. But it had just been for fun, a joke, a piece of nonsense that she had agreed to only to please Jade. She had automatically assumed the fortune-teller would be a fake, a harmless phony playing the part of someone with mystical powers for the amusement of gullible tourists.

But the ridiculous little woman with her bloodred lips and her badly dyed black hair obviously had real psychic powers, and Gabriel Drake was using those powers to reach across the worlds to ensnare Tania.

“Well met, my lady,” said Gabriel's silken voice from the woman's red-lipped mouth. “Long have I ached for the touch of your hand in mine.” And as he spoke, the woman's thin fingers closed around Tania's hand in an icy grip. “You will come with me, my lady. I will brook no refusal. If I am to be banished, then you will share my torment. I would have you at my side through all the long, slow ages of the world!”

No!
Tania's voice howled in her mind.
No! Never!

“Yes, my lady. Yes!”

The booth suddenly grew pitch-dark and Tania heard a wild wind rushing toward her, whipping her hair, stinging her face with a thousand spiteful points of rain. The chair that she was sitting on and the floor of the booth fell away from under her and she dropped into a black gulf, her plunge halted with a wrenching jolt that filled her arm and shoulder with agony. Her feet kicked uselessly as she hung there suspended from the cold fierce grip of Gabriel Drake's hand.

She was back in her nightmare.

Fangs of shining, rain-scoured rock reared around her. Storm clouds rolled and seethed, black and yellow, their swollen undersides lit by forked lightning. In the deep darkness beneath her Tania heard claws scraping on rock and the heavy, rasping breath of something huge and dreadful.

“The monster approaches swiftly,” Gabriel called down to her. “Can you not hear its breath? It will eat you alive, my lady. Only I can save you.” His free hand was pale in the darkness as he reached down toward her. “Take my other hand, my lady, so that I can pull you up—else you will surely die.”

Tania twisted her head and stared into the black abyss. Red eyes shone like fire beneath her. She could hear the chomping of jaws. A great, clawed arm reached up.

“Take my hand or die!” Gabriel shouted. “There is no other choice!”

But a gentle, soft voice sounded in her head, as frail and bright as a glimpse of blue sky through the thunderclouds. “There
is
another choice, Tania,” the woman's voice said. “Remember, once on a time you had wings! Trust in yourself and you shall be winged again.”

Hope ignited in Tania—and a fierce need to fight back, to break Gabriel's power over her. She would not let him control her like this, she would not let him drag her into this nightmare world. She would
not
!

She cried out in pain as twin knives slashed at her shoulder blades. But the pain only lasted for a split second, and then she felt the sudden awakening of sinews and muscles that expanded from her back, spreading and growing like opening fingers, like unfurling leaves, like strange new limbs.

She wrenched her hand free from Gabriel's grip. She heard him shouting as she fell, but the whirling wind drowned out his words. She spun in the air, feeling the power surging through her newborn wings. The monster roared beneath her, its eyes blazing like furnaces, its claws reaching up for her.

But she wasn't afraid anymore. Her wings cupped the air, sending her soaring upward in a long, smooth curve.

She flew high into the rain-filled sky, her body tingling with delight as her wings curled and spread, lifting her above the black crags and chasms of Ynis Maw. The taste of iron was gone from her mouth. She
stretched her arms above her head, her hands together palm to palm like a diver. She twisted in the air, her wings beating fast, and with a single deep breath, she plunged upward into the heart of the storm.

A dense blanket of sodden darkness closed around her and for a few uneasy moments she was afraid that the storm would swallow her whole as she fought to beat her wings in the drenching, airless wet belly of the cloud.