The Enchanted Quest (15 page)

Servants were roused and sent to call Lord Cillian and Lady Derval from their beds while Tania and the others quit the tower and waited in the now-silent banqueting hall. Any visible signs of the Festival of Danu Danann were gone and all that lingered were the faint smells of roasted meat and flowers and candle wax. The long tables were bare now, their polished surfaces reflecting the light of the few candles that had been lit to banish the dark.

The lord and lady arrived, heavy-eyed from sleep and wrapped in fur-lined velvet cloaks.

“What matter is this?” asked the lord, staring at his guests. “Is there more conflict among you that you must rouse me to arbitrate?”

Tania stepped forward. “It’s nothing like that,” she said. “We have something to tell you.” She frowned. “It’s going to be a bit of a shock. You might want to sit down.”

* * *

Lord Cillian and Lady Derval sat in stunned silence as Tania finished her tale. Lady Derval was the first to speak. “You are the child of the lost daughter of Lord Arvan and Lady Maeve,” she said slowly. “The child of the seventh daughter who sailed alone into the east in search of the mythical land of Faerie?”

“I am,” Tania said. “And so is Rathina.”

Lady Derval looked closely at Tania. “Now that I am told, I see the familial resemblance in your face.”

“And you do not come from the northern fiefdoms of Alba?” Lord Cillian asked. “None of you? You all come from . . . from the east?”

“We do,” said Edric. “From Faerie.”

“All save Connor,” added Tania.
But I think you’ve got enough to deal with right now without my trying to explain where
he
comes from!

“And the man named Hollin was an enemy here to kill you, and he has been . . . sent away?” asked Lord Cillian.

“He was a dangerous man,” said Edric. “He has been dealt with.” Tania looked at him, wondering where the healer had been sent—and whether she had truly seen the last of him.

“And you say Titania is a
Queen
in . . . in . . . Faerie?” asked the lord.

“She is
the
Queen,” said Rathina. “Consort to King Oberon and mother to many daughters.”

The lord and lady looked at each other.

“I thought the tales of the mythic eastern lands were but flights of fancy to prevent our people from venturing into dangerous waters,” said Lord Cillian. “I thought the truth was that there were treacherous reefs and deadly leviathans beyond the horizon. I never thought Faerie
real
.”

“It is, my lord,” said Rathina. “And it is in great peril.”

“So you must travel into the west to seek a cure for the plague that contaminates your Realm,” said Lady Derval. “And you would have us give you guidance on your path?”

“We would,” said Edric.

“But we know little more of the lands beyond the Blackwater than we do of your own Realm,” said Lord Cillian. “It is said that the land of Erin is full of wild magic and that it is ruled over by a beautiful enchantress, a Green Lady who dwells in a palace made of flowers.”

“We do not go there, so caprice runs free,” added Lady Derval. “There is no communion between our lands. The waters of the River Blackwater are deep and wide, and insanity comes to any who drink of it . . . or so it is said.”

“The Blackwater runs through a vast dark forest,” continued Cillian. “The Gormenwood, it is named. It forms a barrier between the farmsteads and hamlets of Alba and the strange land of Erin.”

“All the same, we have to get into Erin,” said Tania. “Do your legends say whether the Green Lady is dangerous or not?”

“There are few stories beyond what we have already told you,” said Cillian. “And none that suggest she is cruel or malevolent. But if the tales are true, then Erin is a land running wild with enchantments beyond all understanding.” He shook his head. “But you are not common folk—perhaps your own magics will prevail?”

Tania shot Edric a quick glance.

“We have few magics, sir,” he said. “But perhaps the long estrangement between Alba and Erin has allowed imaginations to flourish unchecked.”

“Aye, perhaps,” said the lord. “But I’d not be the one to try the perils of the fallen bridge—if it exists.”

“What’s this fallen bridge?” asked Tania.

“It is said that in times long gone there was commerce between Alba and Erin, and a bridge that crossed the Blackwater,” Lady Derval replied. “But there was a battle and the bridge fell. Legend says its ruins are guarded by a dark creature who will ferry travelers across the water . . . for a price. . . .”

“What price does this creature exact?” asked Rathina.

“The secrets of the soul,” said Lady Derval with a shudder.

“Can you guide us to the fallen bridge?” asked Edric.

“There is a road, an ancient road, that leads into the Gormenwood,” said Lord Cillian. “It is unused and long overgrown, but once it led to the bridge, I believe. But I’d not go with you under the eaves of that forest.”

“You won’t have to,” said Tania. “Just tell us where it is—we’ll do the rest.”

“And let us hope Lord Balor is not hard on our trail,” added Rathina, “or trapped twixt the Blackwater and the sinister power of Dorcha Tur we shall be.”

“I think we can aid you there,” said Lord Cillian. “There are deep tunnels that lead out under the lake and far into the countryside. We will ready your horses and give you such provisions as you can carry, and weapons, if you wish. I will appoint a captain to lead you to the westernmost exit. From there it will be less than a day’s ride to the eaves of the Gormenwood.”

“Most excellent, my lord!” said Rathina. “Then let us away ere the moon traverses a hand’s breadth across the sky.” She stood up, frowning suddenly as she looked around. “Where is Connor?” she asked.

“He was here a minute ago,” said Tania, looking from person to person. “Where can he have got to?”

“Not far, for sure,” said Rathina. “So—let us find him and be on our way. Erin calls us, and I would learn the secrets of a land where enchantments have gone wild!”

Tania found Connor in the long entrance hall that led from the main gate to the banqueting room. He was sitting quietly by himself in a corner, his legs drawn up, his chin on his folded arms.

“What’s up?” she asked, crouching to look into his pensive face. “What are you doing out here on your own?”

“Just thinking,” he said.

“About?”

“Stuff.”

She let out a long breath. “You’re not pouting because Edric is coming with us, are you?” she asked. “Because I’m not going to be impressed if you are.”

“I’m not pouting,” he said, looking closely at her. “But I think it’s a bad idea.”

“It’s done,” Tania said. “He’s coming. Period.”

Connor nodded. “I know.”

She looked into his face, trying to guess his thoughts. “Listen,” she said after a short pause. “That offer still holds, you know. I’ll take you back home anytime you like. No one will think the worse of you. You’ve already done so much, Connor. You needn’t feel ashamed of yourself if you want out.”

“I don’t want out,” Connor said. He pulled himself to his feet and Tania rose with him. “And I’m not jealous of Edric. I’m worried about you, that’s all.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, actually you’re not,” Connor said. “Okay, you’re fine some of the time—but you could have another of those collapses any moment without warning. You and Rathina both. And then it’s just me and Edric—and I know exactly what he thinks of me.”

She frowned at him. “I don’t know what you mean. You think he’d
do
something to you? Is that it?”

“It’s not impossible,” Connor said. “What if he gets mad and does that black-smoke whammy on me while no one’s around to stop him?”

“Why would he?”

“Because he’s half crazy with that Dark Arts thing,” said Connor. “I know you’ve bought into that whole thing about him promising never to use it again. But if you ask me, he’s addicted to it. And like any addict he’ll tell you whatever you want to hear just to shut you up.” His eyes burned into hers. “I’m telling you, Tania, when push comes to shove, he’ll use those Dark Arts of his again—and that’s a stone-cold certainty!”

A captain of Lord Cillian’s guard led the four riders into a tunnel that opened in the deep cellars of the castle and delved under the lake. The atmosphere was tense as the lord and lady saw them off.

“We bid you farewell and good fortune,” said Lord Cillian. “But as for that—I know not what kind of fortune can aid you against the enchantments of Erin.”

“Fear not, my lord,” said Rathina. “Good spirits watch over us.”

“Thank you for your gifts,” Edric said. “Our journey will be much easier thanks to your generosity.” From their saddles swung leather panniers filled with food and with stone bottles of drink. Tania and Connor now had sharp crystal swords at their hips, given by the lord and lady. Edric had not needed Lord Cillian to gift him a weapon—he had brought his own sword from Weir.

“And thanks for your hospitality,” said Tania. “I wish we could have spent more time with you.”

“Return if you can when all is done,” said the lady. “There is much more I would know of Queen Titania of Faerie and of her dauntless children.”

The tunnel was wide, with a high curved roof clad in red bricks. It led westward, burrowing under the lake and leading them far from the island palace of Fendrey Holm. Stone braziers ran along the center of the hard-packed ground, throwing shadows in all directions as the horses clopped along.

They rode in heavy silence for a while, and it was Connor who first spoke, glancing up at the arched roof. “I wonder how many tons of lake water there are up there?” he muttered. “And I wonder how good at engineering tunnels these guys are? I can’t see us surviving a roof fall.”

“You think that’s helpful?” said Edric, glaring at him.

They held each other’s gaze. It was Connor who looked away first.

No one spoke again for some time, although now Tania found herself glancing uneasily upward and imagining the old brickwork collapsing under the weight of the water.
Thanks for putting that idea in my head, Connor!

The echo of galloping hooves suddenly filled the tunnel behind them. They came to a halt as the rider approached, reining his horse in.

“News from Lord Cillian,” called the rider. “A band of Balor’s men have been seen close to the lake. They may have tracked you from Dorcha Tur. My Lord says that Balor and the Great Salamander are not among them, but he bids you take care on the road west. Balor is full of sinister craft and will use the Great Salamander to hunt you down if he can. And my lord says, may the burnished eyes of the Deena Shee look down benevolently upon you!”

The rider turned his horse around and went galloping back to the palace of Fendrey Holm.

Tania quickened her horse so she came up alongside Lord Cillian’s captain. “I don’t know much about the Salamander,” she said. “Will it be able to track us while we’re down here?”

“ ’Tis said the Great Salamander can see the wind,” replied the captain, “and hear the flap of a butterfly’s wings fifty leagues hence. ’Tis said he can scent the white flowers that grow upon the hills of the moon.” His eyes glittered as he looked at her. “But ’tis also said that fear lends the imagination wings and that dragons lurk ’neath a child’s truckle bed when the candle fails.”

“Meaning no one really knows.”

“Indeed, my lady.”

“And what about Erin?”

“Ah!” And now his eyes were wary. “I suspect that it will not be long before you will know more of that uncanny realm than I, my lady.” His voice lowered. “More, perhaps, than it is safe to know.”

* * *

The tunnel became steep, and the floor was now scattered with stones and pebbles. Tania felt a cool fresh breeze on her face, pleasant after so long in the stifling depths.

They passed through a cave and found themselves in a land of low rolling hills and forests silent under the night sky. In the east there was a hint of gray light.

Lord Cillian’s captain brought his horse to Tania’s side. He rose in the stirrups and pointed. “There is no road through these lands, my lady,” he said, “but if you follow the straight path westward, you will come to the Gormenwood before this day is done. Seek then for the ancient road through the forest—it has stone markers. You will know them when you see them. It is then but a short ride to the Blackwater, so it is said.” He looked at her, and she could see the concern in his face. “Trust nothing in the land of Erin, my lady,” he said gravely. “All there is delusion and deceit!”

He turned his horse and rode quickly back into the cave mouth, never once looking back.

Rathina rode up alongside Tania. “The day is almost upon us, sister,” she said. “Shall we rest till the sun is up?”

“No,” Tania said. “We ride now—and we ride fast!”

She flicked the reins and pressed her knees into her horse’s flanks, urging him forward into the night. The others rode with her, and as they galloped through vale and copse, the sun rose at their backs and the sky was streaked with amber light.

Erin lay ahead. Now Tania really began to feel that they were drawing closer to Tirnanog and to their meeting with the Divine Harper.

It was early afternoon. They had paused in a forested valley where water trickled and spumed down white rocks. They ate, keeping to the shade of the trees—all but Tania glad for a brief time to be out of the saddle and sheltered from the sunshine.

Tania felt deadly tired, but she hated having to stop and rest. While she fretted to be moving again, she noticed that Connor was sitting by himself, his back turned.

Pouting?
Still?
She hoped not. They had enough to worry about.

She got up, swallowing the last of her meager meal. “We should be going.”

“Sister? So soon?” Rathina looked up at her. “The horses are tired.”

“We’ll rest properly once it gets dark,” Tania replied.

Edric nodded and got to his feet, gathering food scraps and putting them back into the leather panniers.

They rode on to the end of the valley. The land opened before them, all grassy meadows and huddled groups of trees, stretching peacefully away toward a line of gently undulating hills.

“Are we still heading in the right direction?” asked Tania, peering into the west. “I thought we’d have hit the Gormenwood by now. Maybe it’s on the other side of those hills?”

“I think we need to turn that way,” Connor said, pointing a little to the left.

“Why?” Tania asked.

“It’ll take us directly west,” Connor said. “We want to go directly west, don’t we? I’ve been keeping an eye on the sun—I think we’re heading northwest right now.”

“I too have been watching the sun, Connor,” Rathina said, her voice puzzled. “And true west lies yonder.” She stretched her arm out ahead of them.

“I’m not so sure,” said Connor.

“Princess Rathina is right,” said Edric. “We should head straight for the hills.”

Connor glared at Edric. “Why am I not surprised that you’d vote against me?” he said. He looked at Tania. “I’m
sure
I’m right. But I guess it’s up to you.”

Why is he insisting on this? Is he just doing it to try and prove himself against Edric? I really don’t need this right now!

“I’m sorry, Connor,” she said. “I think Rathina and Edric probably have a better feel for this kind of thing than you or I.” She smiled encouragingly. “We’ll go their way, if that’s okay.”

“Fine!” Connor snapped, kicking his heels into his horse’s sides to spur it onward. “Whatever.”

Tania frowned. If Connor kept this up, she was going to have to consider sidestepping him back into the Mortal World and leaving him there whether he liked it or not.

The sun was low and in their eyes when they first noticed a line of deep darkness in the west. Gradually it grew more dense, like a sinister wall across their path, made all the more dark and disturbing as the setting sun threw it into deep shade.

It was a forest unlike any other they had encountered. It stretched before them from horizon to horizon, and hardly any light filtered through the gloom that brooded under its heavy canopy.

“ ’Tis the Gormenwood, have no doubt,” murmured Rathina, leaning low over her saddlebow and staring into the densely packed trees. “Would that we’d come here when day was still strong—little chance we have of finding the old road through in this twilight murk.”

“Lord Cillian said there were markers to show where the road entered the forest,” said Edric, rising in the stirrups and staring left and right along the gloomy forest eaves. “But even if they could be seen in the dark, which way do they lie from here? Left or right?”

“Left, if anyone cares what I think,” said Connor. “I said all along we should bear left.”

There was a difficult silence.

“Okay,” said Tania at length. “We’ll go left—at least until it gets too dark to see what we’re doing. Then we’ll rest for the night and see if things are clearer in the morning.”

“Those are the markers of which Lord Cillian spoke or I am a fool!” murmured Rathina.

“Yes,” agreed Tania, staring at the bleak figures half hidden by bramble and briar. “I think you’re right.”

The night was upon them, and several times Edric or Rathina had suggested they should stop. But Tania wanted to continue for just a little while more . . . just a little while. . . .

And then, moments before she had planned on finally calling a halt, they had seen two black shapes up ahead, shrouded by the trees but starkly different to the impenetrable dimness of the rest of the forest.

They were two human forms carved from black stone: a man and a woman standing on ivy-mantled plinths about four yards apart, set so that the statues faced into the forest. Both figures seemed ancient, the stone riven with cracks and stained with gray lichen. And both the man and the woman stood with one arm outstretched in warning and the other crossed over their faces, as though warding something off whilst hiding their eyes from a dreadful sight.

“And what do you think they fear, sister?” asked Rathina, leaning close to Tania and speaking in a low voice. “What do they dread to see?”

“Erin, perhaps?” murmured Edric.

Tania walked her horse to the dark gulf that lay between the two figures. She leaned forward, staring into the heart of the darkness.

Then she straightened her back and turned to face the others. “I don’t care what they’re afraid of,” she said. “We’re going in. And we’ll ride until we can’t follow the road anymore.”

“You want us to spend the night in there?” asked Connor.

“Yes.” She looked into the three uneasy faces. “Balor is probably on our trail, right? So, what do you want us to do: make camp here out in the open where he could sneak up on us in the middle of the night or head into a forest that everyone in this country avoids?”

“There’s wisdom in this,” Rathina said, nodding. “If the people of Alba dread the Gormenwood, then the more so would they avoid it at night.”

“I think you’re out of your mind,” said Connor. “Look how dark it is in there—we could lose ourselves in ten seconds flat. I vote we camp here and leave the forest alone till morning.”

“No,” Tania said decisively. “We’re going in.”

She heard Connor give a snort of annoyance. But she didn’t care how offended he was. She was determined: they would go into the Gormenwood.

* * *

It was clear, even in such deep darkness as there was under the spreading trees, that the forest road had not been used for a very long time. The grass grew tall where the canopy of branches was thinnest, and elsewhere, ferns and sorrel, wild strawberry and columbine tangled across the path.

Tania knew that Connor was hanging back, making it clear that he didn’t approve of their adventure, but she couldn’t be bothered with his childishness right then—he’d get over it. She had assumed his bad temper would go away once he knew he could go home anytime he wanted. But if anything, he was in a worse mood now. Was it just his hatred of Edric that was making him act out like this, or was something else going on? And if so . . . what?

There was another thing puzzling Tania, too. She was finding the Gormenwood neither oppressive nor foreboding now that she was actually under the trees. From a distance she had not liked the look of it at all— but inside there was a peacefulness. It reminded her of being under the tent of her bedclothes as a child—safe from all harm, knowing that her parents were close by.

Her parents! Somewhere in another world, her Mortal father was sick in hospital, and far away in Faerie, the King battled to keep the Gildensleep alive. And maybe the fate of both of them lay with her.

“Does this forest seem dangerous to you?” Tania asked Rathina. “I mean—does it give you bad feelings?”

Rathina leaned close and whispered. “None that can pierce the ill-boding oppression of having Master Chanticleer close to hand.”

Tania looked at her, startled by this. “You can still sense the Dark Arts in him?” she whispered back, careful that Edric should not overhear.

“Aye, as thick and deadly as quicksand.” She looked into Tania’s eyes. “But I think you need not fear him, Tania. His oath holds true, I believe . . . for now—but still the Dark Arts cling to him.”

“Is it definitely Edric you’re sensing?” Tania asked softly. “It couldn’t be Balor or the Salamander?”

Rathina frowned. “Mayhap you are right, sister,” she murmured. “I had thought the danger to be from the Dark Arts, but now that you speak, I begin to wonder.” She shivered. “If it is not Edric, then it is something else close by. Be wary. . . . We have not outrun our danger.”

Tania glanced over her shoulder. Edric was only a few paces behind them, but his head was bent down, as if he was nodding in the saddle. Connor was a little farther back, and she could make nothing of him except a moving silhouette.

“Sister?” Rathina’s voice was no more than a breath.

“Yes?”

“If the Dark Arts take Edric and he betrays us, we will have little time to act,” Rathina whispered. There was sadness in her eyes. “Do you understand what I am saying to you? We will have to be swift and sure if we are to prevail.”

Tania swallowed hard. “You mean . . . to stop him. . . .”

“Indeed. A sword to the heart is surest, Tania—if it comes to it.”

Rathina’s words chilled her through and through. “Oh
god
,” Tania whispered. “I hope not.”

Rathina reached out and gripped her hand, her voice trembling as if she understood perfectly the terrible pain that such an act would cause. “As do I, sweet sister.” She sighed. “As do I.”

We’ll ride until we can’t follow the road anymore.

Through the ever-deepening night, the gloomy path through the forest lay clear ahead of them.

Tania caught herself almost falling asleep on several occasions.

Just a little farther—then we’ll stop.

Just a few yards more.

At last she saw ahead of them a patch of starry sky through the forest roof. There was the sound of water gurgling and splashing. And then the jagged hump of a wide, broken stone bridge, jutting out over a broad, dark river.

“The Blackwater, I deem,” said Rathina. “Can you see anything of yonder bank?”

“No,” Tania said. “Nothing, really. It might be more forest.”

“How wide is it, do you think?” Edric asked, bringing his horse alongside the two sisters.

“I’m not sure, maybe fifty yards?” Tania ventured.

“At least that,” said Connor, and now the four of them were side-by-side where the forest gave way to the rushing river. “Didn’t someone mention a ferryman with a boat?”

Tania saw a lump of darkness rise from beside the ruins of the bridge and come moving slowly toward them, one hand grasping a long staff, the head deeply cowled.

The horses whinnied and backed away.

Tania felt a cold terror snatch at her heart as the dark figure stopped in front of them. The keeper of the Blackwater bridge.

“Well, now,” said a voice. “Who comes hither to offer up the secrets of their souls and to pass through into the land of Erin?”