The Enchanted Quest (17 page)

Voices! Voices in the trees!

They brought their horses to a halt, all of them listening intently, staring through the dark forest, trying to pinpoint the direction from which the voices were coming.

So many different voices. Young voices and old. Happy and sad. Weeping voices and laughing voices. The voices of men and women and of children, too. Sometimes only a word or two could be picked up in the chorus—and sometimes entire phrases soared on the air.

. . . voices in the village street, smiling faces that you meet, dancing eyes and dancing feet, wonder all can share . . .

. . . the sharp winds of winter cut through to the bone . . .

. . . did we dance in the fire . . . ?

. . . fate moves a fickle finger in palaces of the moon, reflections on white water, that echo fluted tunes . . .

. . . the loss of love is such a sad, sad thing . . .

“Who are they?” shouted Connor, his eyes wide. “Who are all these people?”

“Phantoms, maybe!” called Rathina. “Chimera. Wraiths of the night. We should not listen.”

“She’s right,” said Edric. “Don’t listen to them!”

A new voice called from under the branches. An impossibly familiar voice. The voice of a dead princess, calling plaintively.

Tania-a-a-a-a . . .

Tania stiffened. “Zara, is that you?”

Ta-a-a-ania-a-a-a . . .

Tania urged her horse sideways off the road, heading toward the voice, seeing her lost sister in her mind: the wide blue eyes and the curling golden hair, her small slender figure and her sunshine smile . . .

“No! Tania, no!”

“But it’s Zara . . . She’s calling to me . . .”

“Zara is
not
here!” shouted Rathina.

“She is! She is!” Tears of joy were pricking in Tania’s eyes as she stared into the beguiling darkness under the trees. “Zara, I’m coming!”

Come . . . come . . .

“Yes!”

“No!” It was Edric, suddenly close behind Tania. He leaned from the saddle and caught her arm. “Don’t go in there!”

“I must!” She tried to shake his fingers loose, but his grip held her tight. “She needs me. Oh god, can’t you hear her calling?”

“It’s not Zara!” Edric cried.

“We have to get out of here!” shouted Connor.

And now all the voices were crying out in unison.

COME . . . COME . . .

Tania fought to get free of Edric. Couldn’t he hear Zara calling for her? Didn’t he realize she had to go to her sister? She sounded so lost, so alone. What was wrong with him? With all of them?

“Let . . . me . . . go!” she snarled, struggling to get her hand to her sword hilt. If he wouldn’t release her, she’d have to cut his hand off. If he held her back from her sister, she’d plunge the blade into his heart. Nothing mattered more than getting to Zara. Nothing!

Rathina rode up to her side.

“Rathina!” Tania was desperate. “Help me!”

“Forgive me, Tania.” Rathina leaned toward her, one arm raised. Her hand came slicing through the air, striking Tania hard across her face.

The pain was shocking, driving tears from her eyes.

“Now, Captain Chanticleer. Get her away from here!”

While Tania was still stunned from Rathina’s blow, Edric lunged and dragged her from the saddle.

“No! No! No!”

She gasped as Edric hauled her across his saddle-bow, the breath beaten out of her. She hung gaping across his horse’s back, held down by Edric’s arm. He let out a yell and kicked the horse to a gallop, and suddenly all was wind and noise and violent movement . . .

. . . and bright, shimmering sunlight.

The voices had fallen silent. Edric reined his horse up. Hurt and angry, Tania squirmed down from the high ridge of the horse’s back. She lost her footing and stumbled, falling into tall grass, smelling meadowsweet all around her, blinking in the sudden light.

They were a little way beyond the eaves of the forest, and it was noon. Dazzled and bewildered, Tania stared into the clear blue sky. Yes! The sun was at its apex, a burning ball of white, too bright to look at.

She staggered to her feet. Rathina and Connor were close by, their horses brought to a halt, their faces amazed as they stared around themselves. Rathina also held the reins of Tania’s horse.

Connor was the first to break the silence, and he sounded as astonished as they all looked. “What just happened?”

“I think we have the answer to the question of day and night in Erin,” Rathina said, leaning on her saddlebow, her eyes narrowed against the sunlight.

“But it’s the middle of the day,” Connor said. “How’s that . . . ?” He stopped, his shoulders slumping. “I give up,” he said. “I totally give up!”

Edric jumped from the saddle and stood in front of Tania. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she gasped, her hand to her mouth. She stared into the darkness under the trees. The forest stretched into a blue haze in both directions. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” She stared at him. “I thought . . . I heard . . .”

“You thought Zara called to you,” said Rathina.

“Yes. Yes, exactly. I was sure it was her . . . totally certain. . . .”

Rathina arched an eyebrow. “And I wonder what would have happened to you, sweet sister, had you gone in under those trees. Nothing good, that is for sure.”

“It wasn’t Zara,” Tania said. “Why did I think it was her?”

“It was an enchantment put on you to prevent you from ever leaving the forest,” said Edric.

“And it would have worked if you hadn’t stopped me,” Tania said, horrified to think she had come so close to abandoning the quest. “Thank you.” She put her hand to her cheek, still stinging from Rathina’s blow. “Thank you both.”

Connor twisted in the saddle and glowered at the forest. “Is it still night in there, do you think?” he asked. “Is that how this place works? Perpetual midnight in the forest, midday everywhere else?”

“I’d not go back to test that theory, Connor,” said Rathina. “Neither should you.”

“Don’t worry,” Connor said. “I wasn’t planning to.” He squinted into the sky. “But I’d guess we’re stuck with the same problem we had before. How do we know which direction to go in if the sun never moves and we don’t have a compass anymore?”

Tania turned to Edric, looking into his eyes. He lifted his hand to lightly cradle her cheek.

“That was quite a whack Rathina gave you,” he said softly.

She smiled, resting her own hand over his, trembling at his touch. “She doesn’t mess around,” she said. He took his hand from her face, threading his fingers with hers, leaning close and quickly kissing her cheek.

She reluctantly drew back. Part of her was desperate for this closeness, but she feared that if she let herself slip into Edric’s arms, she would never want to let go again. And she really wasn’t ready to allow herself to be that vulnerable. Not while he had all that bad magic inside him. Not with Coriceil’s warning still ringing in her head. And not with Connor only a few yards away, pretending he wasn’t watching them.

Untwining her fingers from his, she turned and walked toward her horse. She climbed into the saddle, gazing at the new landscape that surrounded them.

At their backs the dark forest stretched from horizon to horizon, but ahead of them the land spread out like a rumpled quilt, all hills and sudden valleys, and copses and woods that rippled away in a golden haze of warm summer sunlight.

The horizon was odd, though. Purple and mauve mountains curved on the edge of sight, but although they looked solid when Tania stared straight at them, she found that if she looked away and then back again, the distant outlines had changed—as if the mountains were in a constant state of unrest, flowing into one another, changing, mutating, only to become stable again when she fixed her eyes on them.

A land where magic has run wild. . . .

They had to get across both Erin and Hy Brassail if they were to fulfill their quest, but Connor was right: They had no way of setting a course. Tania knew they needed to head into the west—and it would be easy enough to guess that the west lay in the opposite direction from the forest—but what were they to do once they lost sight of the forest? What then?

“I see no sign of village nor farm,” said Rathina, standing high in the stirrups and scouring the landscape, her hand shielding her eyes. “Should we seek for the folk who dwell here and ask their aid, do you think?”

“We don’t even
know
if anyone lives here,” said Connor. “Except for the enchantress, of course . . . assuming she really exists.”

It was true: They had no idea what was waiting for them in this land and even less of what would be expected of them further down the line

“The kind of witchery we’ve already seen needs to be maintained by a keen and a strong mind,” said Edric. “The Green Lady exists, I think we can be certain of that.”

“But will she prove an ally or an enemy?” asked Rathina. “Should we seek her out in her palace of flowers—or should we avoid her?”

“That’s a good question,” said Tania. She looked at her three companions. “Anyone got an answer?” No one spoke. “Okay,” she decided, “here’s the plan. We’ll ride on
that
way.” She pointed away from the forest. “We’ll keep going as far as we can. Then we’ll see what we’re up against.”

“I suggest we trust nothing we see or hear,” Edric warned. “I can smell sorcery thick in the air. We must keep close together all the time. And if anyone tries to ride away for any reason, the rest of us must stop them.” He looked gravely at the others. “The chances are we’ll be shown enticing things and be offered wonderful gifts, but we should believe none of it! We need to keep our heads clear and not listen to any voices that call to us—no matter who they seem to be. Remember all the time: We are in a land of untruth and fantasy!”

The sun never shifted from the top of the sky as they rode along. The light was golden and hazy. Not a cloud stirred to disturb the crystalline blue.

At one point they saw shoals of slender silver fishes moving through a grove of trees as though through water. And at the end of a far valley they saw huge beasts, like shaggy buffalo, passing in a herd, each of the humpbacked animals the size of a moving hill.

“Untruth and fantasy, indeed!” murmured Rathina, gazing wide-eyed at the massive creatures.

“I’d kill for a digital camera,” Connor said under his breath.

As they traveled, they heard hoofbeats where there were no horses and laughing voices among the rocks. Many-colored butterflies swarmed around them forming the shapes of men and women, dancing in the air. In the distance they thought they saw citadels and towers, but they dissolved into mist the moment anyone’s eyes tried to focus on them. They saw a waterfall that poured upward and a river that flowed through the air and beautiful figures who appeared in groves of trees, smiling and beckoning.

What is there to trust here?
Tania thought. She had no idea.

Rocks rolled uphill, chiming like bells as they moved. Birds of glass flapped slowly by. Children made of flowers ran along the crest of a hill, towing a great kite in the shape of a lion.

Worn out, they paused and slept by a singing river, trying to find some shade from the sun, waking at noon. Lying under fruit trees heavy with clusters of rubies and pearls and diamonds.

They rode on again, coming suddenly upon a three-masted galleon plowing through a field under full sail. The mariners hung from the rigging waving and beckoning as the ship curved away and was gone, leaving a wake of new-turned earth.

“Awesome,” muttered Connor.

“Don’t look,” warned Edric. “Ignore them!”

Tania stared at him. “How do we do that?”

Three times they slept, and three times they got back into the saddle, and each time Tania found it harder to carry on. The end of all hope came suddenly during a long, exhausting ride over a wide landscape of rolling hills. Edric was the first to come to the crest of the highest hill.

“No!”

Tania nudged her heels into her horse’s flanks. The long, unwinding crest of the hill opened up to her— and revealed beyond, a great dark forest that stretched forever in both directions. It was the Gormenwood— Tania recognized the landscape immediately—they were back where they had started.

She heard Connor’s voice. “All that time . . . all that way . . .”

“Can we be sure this is the same forest?” Rathina asked, but there was little optimism in her voice.

“Of course it is,” said Tania, slumping in her saddle. She slid forlornly from the horse, her body aching.

“Riding on hope alone has failed us,” Rathina said, suddenly at her side. “But if one way is closed to us, then we must seek another.”

Tania looked despondently at her. “Such as?”

“Come,” Rathina said gently. “Sit. Let us see what great need can accomplish. Let us try reaching out to Eden, or Oberon himself.”

Tania hesitated, remembering Sancha’s warning that she mustn’t call on them again. But she saw no other choice.

They sat facing each other on the sun-drenched hilltop, in the middle of the land of magic and wonder, holding hands and closing their eyes.

Tania struggled to get a picture of Eden in her head—but the light was too bright through her eyelids, and all she could see was a flame red glow that pulsated and writhed in her mind.

“Eden . . . ?” She screwed her eyes tight, desperately trying to concentrate. “Eden . . . please? Oberon . . . ?”

She felt nothing. Not a glimmer. Not a shred of communion with her faraway family.

She opened her eyes, seeing the look of sorrow on Rathina’s face.

“There’s nothing . . .” Tania said. “Not a thing. Either we’re too far away or they don’t have the strength left to make contact,” she said. “I think we’re on our own.”

She saw Connor standing close by, frowning deeply as he stared at the forest.

“Can I say something without being shouted down?” he asked.

Tania sighed. “Go ahead.”

“We’re stuck here because of some kind of magic spell, right?” He looked around at the three of them, but no one needed to speak. “So what we surely need is another magic spell to get us out.” He looked at Tania. “That’s what you were trying for just now, wasn’t it? A bit of magic from Faerie?”