Faerie Path #6: The Charmed Return (10 page)

Chapter XVII

Tania’s body and mind were engulfed in amber flames. Her back arched, her arms spreading wide. She was hanging suspended in the air by Lear’s sorceries. There was no floor under her feet. There were no hands holding her hands.

A voice chanted through the flames.

Blue flames licked among the yellow, weak at first, coming and going, as though struggling to survive. But gradually the blue grew stronger until there was more blue than amber—until all at once the amber fire was snuffed out and Tania dropped jarringly to the ground, her legs collapsing under her.

“Tania!” It was Edric’s voice, calling from the doorway. “You have the strength! You must do it! I will hold Lear’s power in check for as long as I can—but you must strike him down.”

She stumbled to her feet. “How?”

“Take the crown!”

Lear’s voice roared like a furnace. “Never!”

Amber contended again with the blue, the flames like interlocked fingers struggling against one another.

Amid the flames Tania sought focus. She looked around herself. The six girls were with her in the amber fire, blazing with such light that they were little more than bleached silhouettes in the flames. But each stood alone and none were holding hands any longer.

Tania struggled to move her limbs—to gain some control of herself. It was like fighting floodwater. Every twitch of a finger or foot was bought only by huge effort. But she would not give up.

She turned her head. Edric stood just inside the doors of the Throne Room, bathed in blue light, Jade to one side, Rathina to the other. And from Edric’s outstretched hands, a geyser of blue fire was gushing toward her.

Together!
She could hear Edric’s voice in her head now.
Together we can defeat him!

“Yes!”

Tania waded forward into the amber flames, buoyed up by the blue-white light.

The six girls followed, forming a semicircle behind her, their potency guiding her, driving her forward as she came to the steps of the throne.

Lear was leaning forward now, his knuckles white as he gripped the arms of the throne, his face contorted and hideous as he fought against both the white and the blue light.

He stared at her as she stood in front of him, his head thrust forward, his lips drawn back in a feral snarl.

Supported by light and love, Tania reached forward, beams of white spinning out from her fingertips.

Lear’s eyes followed her, but he did not move—as though he was pinned to the throne by a force he could not overthrow.

He howled as she closed her fingers around the crown and lifted it from his head.

Words came into her mind and she spoke them aloud, the incantation pouring from her mouth on a shaft of light.

She lifted the crown high. “Ill fortune devour you, Prince Lear Aurealis! Thou art banished! Get you hence!”

Lear tried to rise from the throne, but before he could move, the world was engulfed in a discharge of power that sent Tania spinning head over heels through a universe of howling white light.

Tania stood in a place that was no place—in a white void. She was hand-in-hand with her other selves. She knew this was but a fleeting moment before the children were to return to their own worlds and to their deaths.

The princess stood opposite Tania. There was no hint or taint of illness in her radiant face, and her lilac Faerie gown was now fresh and lovely.

“We shall meet again, when desperate need calls . . .” said the princess. “ . . . one final time. . . .”

“Don’t be scared,” added Gracie. “We’ll help you.”

“In darkest noon,” said Ann, her eyes dreamy, her breath coming easily, “by a gray river with banks of solid stone in a world set all afire . . .”

The Six broke hands, and they were drawn back into the white void.

“Thank you,” Tania called after them.

She was alone now.

She gave a deep sigh and turned, sidestepping away.

Lear was gone.

Wreaths of white smoke floated through the Throne Room, half shrouding the damage and chaos caused by the Banishing Spell. The throne itself was smashed to stone shards, pieces of it scattered across the floor among the fallen and snuffed candles. The tapestries that hung over the walls were ripped to shreds. The tall elegant windows had lost all their glass, and cracks ran up the marble frames.

The only things undisturbed by the explosion of energy were the five amber prisons. They floated still in the upper air of the room, each with its pitiful captive.

“That’s what I call a firework display!”

Tania turned at the sound of Jade’s voice. Jade and Rathina and Edric were still by the door. Edric’s head was hanging.

Tania ran to him. “Edric?”

He lifted his head, his brown eyes unfocused, his face drained. “Is Lear gone?” he whispered.

“I think he is,” said Tania.

“Good.” With a weary smile Edric crumpled unconscious to the floor.

Jade dropped to one knee, two fingers pressed to the side of Edric’s neck. “Just feeling for a pulse,” Jade said. “There it is. Strong and clear.” She looked into Tania’s eyes. “He’s fine. Exhausted is all. He was pretty much wiped out
before
he made us bring him here.” She glanced around the wrecked room. “The boy did good, though.”

Rathina helped Tania to her feet. “Have the other six gone?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Rathina sighed. “This is a sad victory.” She frowned. “If victory it be. Lear is bested, I deem, but what damage has he wrought in Faerie?”

Tania turned to look at the five floating amber globes and the crumpled shapes within them. “We need
Isenmort
,” she said. Only the touch of Isenmort—of metal—could open the eternal prisons.

“I have none,” said Rathina. “I lost my sword on the beach under Tirnanog.”

“What’s Isenmort?” asked Jade.

“Metal.”

“I’ve got some spare change in my pocket,” she said hopefully, digging out a small handful of coins.

Rathina took them. “Come, sister, let’s play out the last act of this drama,” she said, striding down toward the smashed throne plinth.

Tania followed her.

Rathina positioned herself under the prison where Oberon was crouched. She tossed a coin into the air. It spun, glittering in the clear light that poured in through the broken windows. At the height of the toss the coin struck the underside of the floating ball.

It stuck to the amber shell, and within moments Tania saw gray tendrils spreading out over the amber. She strained her neck, watching the King as the ribbons of gray converged and spun out higher.

There was a crack like distant thunder. Fissures swept over the globe. A golden light poured out, and with it a booming, rejoicing voice.

“Free!” roared the King. “I am free!”

He stood on the golden air for a moment, stretching his cramped limbs. He looked at Tania and Rathina and smiled. He reached down and from the debris that was strewn across the floor, his crown leaped up to his hand, whole and unharmed.

“Father!” Rathina cried. “Praise the good spirits!”

“And praise the love and courage of a King’s children!” called Oberon, placing the crown on his head. He turned, stretching out a hand. Golden light bathed the remaining four amber prisons.

“Be free, my wife, my love. Be free, my children, custodians of my heart!”

The globes broke and dissolved, and Titania and Hopie and Eden and Sancha floated softly to the ground on clouds of gold.

Tania threw herself into their arms. She could do nothing more than hold her mother and her sisters and weep with joy.

As they stood there in the ruins of the Throne Room, crystal bells began to ring out from distant towers. The peal of the bells was picked up and answered from farther away, the glorious sound doubling and redoubling all along the vast expanse of the Royal Palace until it seemed to Tania that the whole Realm of Faerie was alive with a riotous chime.

Lear was banished and the Royal Family was free!

Chapter XVIII

Oberon strode to the broken windows of the Throne Room and stared out over the land of Faerie for a few silent moments. Tania watched him, wondering what was to come next. He turned, and his voice was strong and vibrant above the ringing bells.

“Prince Lear is banished forever,” he said. “And with his passing the great plague has been lifted from this Realm—I feel it to the very roots of my soul! My people are free, and even now, throughout Faerie, the sick rise in wonder from their deathbeds and greet the glad new dawn!” A look of pain darkened his face. “But many have died and can never return. And my people are Mortal now and prey to all the ills and travails of that sorry state. Much work needs to be done ere all is as it should be in Faerie.”

He looked slowly around the wreckage of the Throne Room. “Let us leave this place,” he said. “Never shall the Throne Room be made whole again. The throne shall remain forever sundered and strewn in shards across the floor of this chamber, so that for all time the people of Faerie may come here and learn how fragile is the peace that blesses them, and remember those who died and shall never return.”

The King showed no sign of the exhaustion that had wracked him the last time Tania had seen him. Sad as he was, he seemed as strong and powerful as he had been before the Gildensleep had drained the energy from him.

Tania wiped her sleeve across her eyes, still held safe in Titania’s strong embrace. “Beloved daughter!” The Queen sighed. “You bring me such joy!” She glanced to the doorway, where Jade was kneeling at Edric’s side. “Who is this Mortal girl?”

“She’s Jade,” said Tania. “She’s my friend. She kind of invited herself along.”

“A close friendship it must be, for her to have traveled with you between the worlds,” said the Queen. “She is most welcome.”

Tania looked from Titania to the King. “Is the plague really gone?” she asked.

“It is,” said Oberon. “With his banishment all the works of Prince Lear fell into ruin. But alas for my people—so many have been lost. The evil done to this Realm will never be entirely washed away.”

Eden rested her long white hand on Tania’s forehead. “It has been a hard road for you, sweet sister,” she said. “And, alas, for your griefs are not all told—a great loss has befallen our family.”

Tania stepped out of her mother’s arms.

“Where is Cordelia?” Rathina demanded.

Sancha’s solemn face ran with tears, and she could not speak.

“She died,” said Hopie, her voice choking. “I did what I could. I used all my Arts, all my skills—but the plague was too deep in her body.”

“No!” The shout tore out of Tania’s throat.
“No!”

Rathina reeled, her face blanched. “Not Cordelia, no. Blood of the spirits, not Cordelia . . .” Eden put her arms about Rathina’s shoulders.

“But what about the Gildensleep?” Tania cried. “That was supposed to protect her—it was supposed to protect everyone!”

“It saved Faerie from huge loss,” said Titania. “But it was not enough to bring my daughter back to us.” Her eyes were sunken with bereavement. “Her mind was gone, Tania. Even had her body survived, she would not have been the person you knew.”

“It is hard beyond enduring,” said Eden. “But it is done and she is lost to us. A second child of Aurealis has flown to the bliss of Albion.”

“When did this happen?” groaned Rathina.

“But a short time before Lear fell upon us in the Throne Room at Veraglad Palace,” said Sancha. “We had scarce time for her funeral rites before doom came from the Frozen North.”

“You know who Lear was?” asked Tania.

“All too well!” declared Eden. “Great pleasure he had in telling us the tale of his life while we were locked in amber. When all was told, he brought us here to the Royal Palace, the better to savor the fruits of his triumph.”

“And yet I never utterly despaired,” said Titania, looking sadly but fondly from Rathina to Tania. “For I knew the strength that resided in the hearts of my two youngest daughters, questing for the good of all across strange and uncanny lands.”

“And did you find Tirnanog?” asked Sancha. “Did you speak with the Divine Harper?”

“She did, indeed!” said Rathina. “And the interview cost her dear!” She glanced to where Jade was kneeling with Edric’s head now resting in her lap. “And if not for Edric’s endeavors, all would have been lost.”

“I will tend him,” said Hopie, moving quickly toward the doors. As she came close to where he lay, she paused and looked at Tania over her shoulder. “He reeks of the Dark Arts,” she said uneasily. “From skin to bones it infests him.”

“With good cause!” said Rathina. “Without those deadly Arts nothing could have been accomplished.”

Tania looked anxiously at her healer sister. “He’s all right, though, isn’t he?” she asked. She remembered the deathly look of his eyes.

“I will help,” said Eden, striding in her sister’s wake. “All that can be done shall be done.” Her fingers were already moving and sending out threads of golden light toward Edric. Jade laid his head gently on the floor and stood up, backing off and eyeing the mystical tendrils uneasily as they spun over Edric’s slumped body.

“What did the Divine Harper tell you?” asked Sancha.

Tania looked at the King. “First, is Lear gone?” she asked. “Gone for good, I mean?”

“His spirit is broken,” the King replied. “The same blood flows in our veins, and thus I know his fate. His power is dispersed and abated. He will not be able to enter this Realm again.”

Tania grinned mirthlessly. “Then there’s no chance of him stealing your throne if you leave Faerie!” she said. “That means you can go to Tirnanog and sort things out with the Harper.”

“Few have come to me with a more welcome message,” said the King, taking Tania by the shoulders and looking deep into her eyes. “Ahh! And I see what it was that the Harper told you. I must go to him and renew the covenant.” His eyes shone. “So be it!”

“And shall the people of Faerie then be Immortal again, Father?” asked Rathina.

“With the proper courtesies and sacraments, I do believe it to be so,” said the King. “Great service have you done for Faerie, my daughter. You and Tania and the Mortal boy.” He turned and smiled at Tania. “Truly it is said that the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter shall work wonders!”

“Let us to ship!” declared Rathina. “The
Cloud Scudder
will surely cleave the air to Tirnanog within the circuit of a single day, and all things will be made anew!”

“In good time it will,” said the King gravely. “But such a journey cannot be undertaken without due ceremony.” He lifted his chin. “I shall call upon the Conclave of Earls to bless my journey.”

“All will not come,” Sancha said. “Aldritch of Weir will not come!”

“Can the rites be fulfilled without the lord of Weir in attendance?” asked Titania.

“That we shall see,” said the King. “In the meantime let us summon the lords and ladies of the court—they shall forgather in the Great Hall and I will speak with them!” He rested his arm across Tania’s shoulders. “Come, stand at my right hand, with your sister Rathina upon my left. Together you have done great deeds, my daughters—but the greatest is yet to come!”

Tania leaned anxiously over Edric. “How is he?” she asked.

“He sleeps,” Hopie said. “Fear not. He will recover.”

“He is strong, Tania,” said Eden. “With a strength that is not all his own. It is your love that protects him from danger.”

Tania smiled with relief. “Then he’ll be protected forever!” she said.

“Wow!” Tania turned at the sound of Jade’s voice. Her friend looked thrilled and astounded. “I can’t believe how amazing this place is!” she said. “Tania, it totally
rocks
! Now I get why you were gone for so long!”

Hopie instructed two men of Faerie to bear Edric to a high, airy bedchamber in the Royal Apartments. Tania and Jade followed the slow cortege.

I won’t leave him! Not until he’s better.

As they climbed the stairs and walked the upper galleries of the palace, Jade gazed around, mouthing a silent “wow” at every new thing she saw.

Edric was laid on a four-poster bed and covered with fresh white linen. Hopie had her medicine chest brought from the princesses’ gallery, and soon the sweet and pungent odor of herbs filled the air. Tania was desperate to stay with Edric—to be at his side when he awoke. She and Jade stood at his bedside, watching as Hopie muttered her healing charms and laid a wreath of white flowers by his head.

“He looks peaceful,” Tania said, gazing down at his pale, sleeping face. She wondered whether there was silver under his closed eyelids.

“I have given him a tincture of passionflower and valerian to induce a dreamless sleep,” Hopie said. She gestured to the bunch of small white flowers lying on his pillow. “Anise will ward off dark dreams, and I will distill the orange flowers of aloe to keep evil at bay.”

Tania sat on the side of the bed and took Edric’s hand. “Will he be himself?” she asked.

“You fear that he will not?” said Hopie.

“He was strange—just for a few moments, when we first got here. He wasn’t himself. And his eyes . . . they were dead.” She swallowed hard. “There are voices inside the Dark Arts—bad voices. I heard them, too, just for a little while. But if they’re in his head all the time . . .” She looked fearfully at Hopie. “What must they be doing to him?”

“The Dark Arts are savage and deadly,” said Hopie. “But I do not believe he has been damaged by them. Not thus far.” She rested her hand on Edric’s forehead. “No. He will recover and be himself, I believe, so long as he never uses the Dark Arts again.”

“Good,” said Tania. “Then I’ll just sit here and wait for him to wake up.”

“There is nothing for you to do here, Tania,” Hopie said. “He will sleep the day out now. Return at dusk, and be here when he awakens.”

“I want to stay,” Tania said firmly.

“’Twill be a long and unnecessary vigil when all else in Faerie is awakening,” said Hopie. “Go! Show your friend that Faerie is a world of wonders as well as of torments.”

Jade smiled. “I kind of already got that, thanks,” she said. “But I wouldn’t mind taking a look around. I wish I’d brought my mobile with me—I need some pictures of this place. No one’s going to believe me when I get back otherwise.”

Tania looked uneasily at her friend, but she didn’t say anything—there was no purpose in alarming Jade until she knew for certain whether the barriers between Faerie and the Mortal World were still in place. They’d been able to get through this time, but who knew if it would work without Tania’s other selves? She thought she knew who would be able to tell her.

She stood up. “You’ll stay with him, won’t you?” she said to Hopie. “And you’ll let me know immediately if he starts to wake up early?”

“He will sleep till the hour before sunset,” Hopie said briskly, busy with a mortar and pestle, grinding orange flowers into an aromatic paste.

Tania looked urgently at her.

“Very well,” Hopie relented. “If he stirs earlier, I shall have you sent for. Now go, for pity’s sake, and leave me to my work.”

“This is mind-blowing!” said Jade. “You guys must really be into reading!”

Tania had brought Jade to the Royal Library—guessing correctly that she would find Sancha among her beloved books.

Jade walked to the center of the room, coming to the hub of the spiraling lines of black and white floor tiles. She gazed up to the galleries that lined the curved walls—every gallery the home to a thousand ancient tomes. Light poured in through the high domed roof, gilding the burnished wooden balustrades and stairways.

Sancha, dressed as always in a plain black gown, and with her long chestnut hair tied back from her face, was standing by a reading lectern, with a look of relief and pleasure on her slender face. “I had feared Lear might do some irreparable damage here,” she said. “The destruction of knowledge is ever the first act of the despoiler and tyrant.”

Tania didn’t need reminding of that. She remembered how the Sorcerer King had set flames to the library a few months past. It had only been through the regenerative power of Oberon that all had been made whole again.

“I don’t suppose you guys have ever considered archiving all this on a computer?” Jade asked, turning in a slow circle. “You’d save a whole lot of room—and it’d make looking stuff up way easier, you know?” She grinned. “Then you could turn this place into a multiplex cinema.”

Sancha frowned at her, as though trying to make sense of what she had said. “A computer?” she commented at last. “Yes, I remember the word—you have them in the Mortal World.” She smiled. “Nay, Mistress Jade, I wish for no such devices. I love my library, and I know the location of every book within these walls.”

“Amazing!” breathed Jade.

“So, everything is okay here?” Tania asked, taking Sancha by the elbow and gently walking her away from Jade.

“It is,” said Sancha. “Or would be if not for the clouds in your mind, my sister. What ails you? Master Edric will be well, be most sure.”

“It’s not that,” whispered Tania, drawing her sister farther away from Jade. “I need to know something, but keep your voice down, please.”