The Light-Bearer's Daughter (17 page)

“Come!”

Grasping Dana’s hand, she hurried her past the dancing crowd, out of the hall, and down a glass staircase.

“I have remembered my name!” she said with great excitement, before Dana could speak. “It is
Honor
. No one addresses me that way, which is why I keep forgetting it. And my husband calls me ‘beloved’ or ‘
a stór
.’”

“
Husband?
” Dana was surprised. The Lady looked too young to be married. And yet she did seem different this time. Happier and more confident. “I thought you said you couldn’t come here?”

“It was no lie. I have broken the rules!”

Dana heard the mischief and delight in the older girl’s voice. So the old stories were true. Fairies
did
love being bold!

“For your sake, my human self defies the law! Except for my page, who gave you the drink, the others do not even know where we are.”

“What?” said Dana, astounded.

They had almost reached the end of the long flight of stairs.

“’Tis easy enough for a fairy.” Honor smiled blithely. “We can roll up a world like a map and pop it inside another dimension. It’s pure magic. Or pure science. Whatever you want to call it. I’ve brought the whole Court—lock, stock, and barrel! And I have given them a task to distract them. They are weaving a robin’s nest for one whose mate was killed by a cat.”

Now great oaken doors opened before them, ushering them out into the courtyard. Dana gaped. The castle was a fairy tale classic, with elegant spires, ornate balconies, and brightly colored banners waving in the breeze. The walls were made of glittering stone. The turreted roof was thatched with white feathers. When a sudden gust of wind carried the plumes away like a swirl of snow, the roof re-thatched itself in an instant. At the center of the courtyard stood a marble fountain. Around it grew nine slender trees. As their branches dropped hazelnuts into the waters, five silver salmon rose to consume them.

Dana was dazzled. She couldn’t think or speak. Everything shone with mystery and meaning, like an important dream.

When Honor led her to the fountain, Dana drew back at the sight of her own reflection. She looked so dirty and disheveled. The Lady signed to her to take a drink, but Dana wouldn’t. She didn’t want to pollute the glorious waters. The older girl smiled and, scooping a handful, brought the water to Dana’s lips. Never was there a more refreshing drink! She could feel it tingling through every part of her. Then, with a gasp, she saw that she was perfectly clean. Not a spot of mud. Even her cuts and bruises were gone!

“It is the Well of Living Waters,” Honor said gently.

“Now, let us away. I have remembered something I need to tell you.”

“I’ve something to tell you, too!” Dana said suddenly. “The boggles—”

But Honor wasn’t listening. Clasping Dana’s hand once more, she hurried her to the bronze gates that led outside the castle.

“I came not only to free you,” she explained, “but also to warn you. There are things I keep forgetting in my confusion of self. I promised you your heart’s desire, but know this: King Lugh is the one who will grant you your boon, and you must ask it of him on the feast-day of
Lá Lughnasa
.”

“August day,” Dana said, quickly translating the Irish.

“You mean August first?”

“Yes! ‘Lammas’ some call it. You must reach Lugnaquillia by then. That is when you may request your wish.”

“The day after tomorrow!” Dana was dismayed, yet she knew that time was the least of her worries. “Things are even worse!” she told Honor. “The king is fast asleep. And the boggles have something to do with it. I think they’re the ones who’ve been keeping everyone out. They don’t want him to wake up.”

The Lady stopped so abruptly that the mask slipped from her face. Her pretty features reflected her bewilderment.

“How can this be? Why would they do such a thing? They are harmless creatures. Oh, I know they kidnapped you, but they were just being naughty. They get carried away with their games sometimes. They would never have hurt you.”

Dana was hardly convinced and was about to argue the point when they passed through the gates. The words died on her lips as a beautiful scene unfolded before her.

t was Ireland and yet not Ireland; the fair country she had seen from the castle window. Hills and woods, lakes and rivers, all seemed to shine with intensity, as if the world were newly born. Multicolored birds flitted through the air like butterflies. Warm winds wafted the sweet scent of apple blossoms. Melodious music resounded from every quarter.

“Is this Faerie?” Dana asked breathlessly.

“Yes,” the Lady answered, “and no. You do not go to Faerie, you become a part of it. And in a heartbeat you may live thus for a year and a day … or for a thousand years. This,” and she waved a graceful arm, “is
Magh Abhlach
. The Plain of the Apple Trees. It is an aspect of the Summer Land that is favored by the Gentry of the High King’s Court. I moved
everything
to allay their suspicion.”

Dana was awed by what Honor had done, but she was worried too. There were often fairy helpers in the tales Gabe told her. Though many had powers just like the Lady, they usually paid a price for aiding humans.

“Will you get into trouble?” Dana asked anxiously.

“Might they turn you into a frog or something?”

“I don’t believe so,” came the reply, followed by a peal of laughter. “Though that would be funny.”

Dana didn’t think it would be funny at all. It was unsettling the way Honor could be serious one minute and flighty the next. And she had yet to respond to Dana’s bad news.

“You’ve got to tell the High King about the boggles,” Dana insisted. “And about Lugh being asleep.”

The older girl’s mood changed again. She was suddenly grave.

“The High King is away. On a mission of his own, tracking a demon. Otherwise I could never have fooled the Court. But even were he here, I would prefer not to ask for his help. This matter he has entrusted to me and it is something I need to do. To prove myself. Do you understand?”

Dana didn’t really, but she nodded all the same. The Lady was almost pleading. Given that Honor had literally moved heaven and earth to help her, Dana was prepared to give her what support she needed.

Honor continued earnestly. “I will discover what is happening in the Mountain Kingdom, I promise you. I am already resolved to help you as best I can. I’ve broken the rules once, I’ll do it again. Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“Thanks,” said Dana quietly, and she meant it.

She trusted the young woman and was beginning to consider her a friend.

“Don’t thank
me
,” Honor cried. “It’s the least I can do! I am ashamed that They … that we … have not done more to aid thee. While I don’t regret being with them, there are things about the fairies I find difficult to countenance.”

Not for the first time, Dana was struck by the strangeness of the other’s position: half in, half out, half this, half that. Sometimes the older girl seemed so human, and other times, pure fairy. Even the way she spoke was betwixt and between, a jumble of courtly and modern speech. Dana’s curiosity peaked.

“Did they steal you? When you were little?”

The Lady sighed. “It’s a long story, the length of a book. Perhaps one day I shall tell it to you, but there is no time now.”

She took Dana’s hand, and they were suddenly running as fast as the wind.

The landscape hurtled past them, like scenery outside the window of a speeding train.

Then just as quickly they came to a halt, making Dana’s stomach lurch.

They were on a green common that hosted a country fair. A great wooden Ferris wheel twirled above the crowd, twined with holly and ivy. The noisy throng milled over the grass, dressed in bright costumes and rainbow-colored cloaks. Many looked human; young men and women with their arms around each other, old warriors with mantles and their swords sheathed, mothers with babies tucked into fringed shawls. But there were also giants and dwarves and other strange creatures. Voluminous tents shone white in the sunlight, fluttering with silken flags. Inside, entertainments took place. A horned man swallowed swords of fire. A bearded lady lifted weights. Dana lingered at one pavilion where a shadow play depicted the story of Beauty and the Beast. She was surprised to see that the Beauty was a fairy princess while the Beast was human. As well as the tents, there were booths displaying every kind of ware and craft: bolts of rich fabrics, heaps of precious stones, porcelain china, musical instruments, and mechanical toys. Mouthwatering smells issued from the food stalls where sweetmeats sizzled in great pans and pyramids of pastries balanced precariously.

Honor handed Dana a velvet purse bulging with coins.

“You need provisions for your journey. And buy yourself new clothes. A cloak to keep you warm in the mountains. You must haggle or they will cheat you, especially the cluricauns. They’re the ones with the red noses.”

“Haggle?”

Dana pulled a face. She hated shopping at the best of times; the thought of arguing over the price was a nightmare.

“You can do it,” the Lady assured her in a big-sisterly tone. “Now I must return to the Court to ensure they are still occupied. I’ll return as soon as I can. Shop till you drop!”

Despite her initial reluctance, Dana was soon wandering happily from booth to booth. It was nothing like a supermarket or shopping mall. She had never seen so many fascinating things. At one stall, a golden-haired seamstress offered to embroider a triskele on the leg of her jeans. Dana couldn’t resist. She did say no, however, to the blue-faced imps who wanted to paint her elbows and knees. But could she make use of a bracelet that turned her purple? Or a ball that bounced as high as the clouds? At the sweet stall, she was mesmerized by the array of candied lollipops, liquorice, toffee sticks, and old-fashioned fruit ices. She bought a stick of fresh strawberries to dip into the fountain of molten chocolate. And after that, she got a cinnamon bun and a cup of hot cider. There was a moment before she put the little cake into her mouth when someone passed behind her and muttered quick words.

“Má itheann tú ná má ólann tú aon ghreim istigh anseo, ní bhfaighidh tú amach as go bráth arís!”

Dana spun around, but whoever it was had disappeared into the crowd. She felt uneasy. Why the warning against eating and drinking? She had already done it more than once on the quest. And Honor hadn’t spoken of it. With a fatalistic shrug, Dana polished off the food.
In for a penny, in for a pound
. Then she got down to business.

“Out dancin’ under the moon with boggles, I see!” snorted the leprechaun manning the cobblers’ booth. “And bejaney mack, would ye look at the state o’ dem. Like somethin’ that died and was buried.”

She had brought him her running shoes, waterlogged and clotted with mud.

The fat little shoemaker was dressed all in green. He had an apple-shaped face with red hair and beard. The pockets of his leather apron were filled with nails of every size and description. Bunches of them also protruded from the corners of his mouth, like a pincushion. As he scraped, sewed, and buffed her shoes, he continually complained that she had ruined them beyond hope. But when he was finished, they looked brand-new.

Chastened, Dana handed him a gold coin and told him to keep the change. As he bit into it, the leprechaun’s face lit up. He looked not only mollified but hugely pleased. Just before he returned the shoes, he drove a tiny silver nail into the heel of each.

“That’ll give ye a bit of
umph
,” he said, winking. “But steer clear o’ dem bogs!”

Next, Dana outfitted herself in new clothes suitable for traveling outdoors. Keeping in mind the chill of the mountain peaks, she chose green trousers of strong cotton, a white cambric shirt, and a yellow knitted vest.

Her finest purchase was the long flowing cloak of golden-brown wool with a capacious hood. Finally, she bought a leather satchel to replace her lost knapsack, then stocked it with apples and oranges, curranty bread, chunks of cheese, fairy buns with icing, and a bottle of ginger beer.