The Immortal Realm (6 page)

I can't believe he's just walked away from me,
she thought furiously.
He's meant to love me!

She wished she had never met Edric. She wished she had never even
heard
of Faerie. She wished with all her heart that she could go back three months and just be a normal girl again.

She turned and followed her sisters.

She was so sick and tired of feeling this way. All she wanted was to wake up in bed back in London and find this had been a bad dream.

Tania stood at the forecastle rail of the
Cloud Scudder
. She was alone at the bow, a breeze sending her hair flying around her face. The silver ship had been sailing all through the night and dawn was now close.

A white light caught her eye, sparkling and winking low on the dark horizon. At first she thought it was a star, till she heard the lookout's voice ringing out from high at the masthead.

“Rhyehaven, ho!” came the call. “Voyage's end!”

The
Cloud Scudder
sailed in under the rearing chalk cliffs of Udwold just as the sun was rising in a sky banded with clouds of pale crimson. Perched on the highest cliff, far above the topmost mast of the Royal Galleon, was the Palace of Veraglad, its elegant curved walls and slender turrets and needle-sharp steeples fashioned from a white crystal that shone so brightly Tania could hardly bear to look at it.

A voice came soft in her ear. “Do you remember?” It was Sancha, standing at her shoulder and also gazing
up at the palace. “The long golden weeks of summers long past when the whole court of Faerie would sally forth to Veraglad Palace for the Solstice Revels…”

“No, I don't,” Tania said sadly. “I wish I did.”

“Perhaps memory will return when you enter your old bedchamber high in the Sunset Tower.”

“Here's hoping.” Tania sighed. She had spent sixteen years as a princess in Faerie, but of that life she knew nothing apart from what she had read in her Soul Book or had had explained to her by others.

The loss gaped inside her like a wound that would never heal.

She turned and looked down the bustling decks. Beyond the high stern of the
Cloud Scudder
she saw the other ships following in their creamy wake. The quarantine ship was at the rear, a dark red flag snapping at the head of its mainmast.

“I'm praying no one else has died,” Tania whispered.

“Hopie has great skill,” said Sancha. “I have faith that our sister will prevail.”

Hopie was aboard the quarantine ship with the Queen, mixing what potions she could and giving them to the sick. Apart from a small crew, mother and daughter had insisted on being alone with the plague victims.

“Yes. Faith is good,” Tania murmured. “I like faith….”

But would faith be enough?

 

Rhyehaven nestled in a deep slot between rearing cliffs, its round harbor protected by two curved breakwaters of natural rock reaching into the sea and leaving only a narrow gap of open water between. Beacons stood at the extreme end of each, their lights still glimmering in the early light as the
Cloud Scudder
led the ships into port.

Tania looked out at the small town, its seafront a tumble of tall black wharves and slatted drying huts, its streets narrow and twisting, its houses and shops of stone or half timber. The quayside was hung with fishing nets stretching out like spiderwebs over the cobbles. A flotilla of small fishing boats was gathered to one side of the harbor, the crews busy unloading the night's catch while seagulls wheeled and screamed.

The salt air had a strong sea tang to it and the scent drove Tania tumbling back to her childhood holidays in England. A green-and-white wooden chalet behind the sand dunes. A carousel and a games arcade on a stretch of cracked concrete above the beach. Ice cream cones. Fish and chips wrapped in paper. Vast golden sands at low tide, the sea a silvery glimmer on the horizon. Building sand castles with her dad. Searching for cockles on the sand flats before the long tide came sweeping in. Running through the surf, sand clotted richly between her toes.

Such strong memories.

Is that who I am really? Not Princess Tania of Faerie
at all? Anita Palmer, only child of Clive and Mary Palmer of 19 Eddison Terrace, Camden, London. Was Dad right? Have I just been hypnotized by all this? Should I go back now and let all this fade away like a dream?

“Tania!” Sancha's voice dragged her back to reality. “Come quickly. The earl is worse. Eden is asking for you.”

 

Earl Valentyne's bed had been brought onto the deck of the quarantine ship. The crew would come nowhere near him, but Eden was at his side as Tania boarded the ship and ran across the deck.

“What is it?” she asked. “What's happened?”

“I cannot rouse him!” cried Eden. She stared into Tania's face with haunted eyes. “You know this ailment; what does this mean?”

Tania looked down into the earl's ravaged face. His skin was gray and had a sickly sheen to it. His deep-set eyes were closed, but his face was not peaceful. There was a tension around his eyes and mouth as if he was in pain.

“I don't know,” Tania said helplessly. “Where are Hopie and our mother?”

“Belowdecks, tending the children.” Eden snatched at Tania's hand, her fingernails digging into her flesh. “I fear he is dying. He cannot die. You must not let him die.” Her voice was almost hysterical now, her eyes pleading. Tania couldn't bear to see her sister like this; she had only ever known Eden calm and steadfast.

“I don't know what to do,” Tania said, her voice shaking.

Eden turned to the earl, her hands cradling his face, leaning over him so that her face was just above his. “My lord,” she cried, “do not leave me.”

Close to panic, Tania ran to the hatch that led belowdecks. She shouted down, “Mother! Hopie! Come quickly!”

She had returned to Faerie to try and help, but now it came to it—what use was she?
None at all,
she thought bitterly as Titania's face appeared in the half darkness at the foot of the ladder.
I'm useless.

“What is it, Tania?” called the Queen.

“The earl has fallen into some kind of coma,” she called down. “Eden thinks he's dying.”

“There's nothing we can do,” called her mother. “Two of the little ones have also lapsed into unconsciousness. Hopie is doing all she can for them, but…” She didn't need to finish the sentence.

“It's okay,” Tania called down. “I'll think of something.”

She ran back across the deck and pounded down the bouncing gangplank to the quayside.

I have to find Oberon,
she thought desperately.
He has so much power. Surely he'll be able to stop this.

The King was standing on the quay with the earl marshal and Lord Brython. They were deep in discussion as Tania came running up.

“Father, you have to come—
now
!” she said gasping,
clutching at the King's arm.

He frowned at her. “Tania, be calm! What is the matter?”

“Eden's husband is dying!”

“No!” exclaimed Cornelius. “Earl Valentyne dying? It cannot be so.”

Tania looked into his horrified face. “Yes,” she said firmly. “It
can
.”

“I shall come,” said the King. “My lords, see to our people. Have the townsfolk keep to their homes as we pass through. I would not have this sickness spread to the people of Rhyehaven. Ensure all pass through the town and onto the cliffs as swiftly as may be.”

“We will, sire,” said the two lords.

“Please come quickly, Father,” Tania urged the King. “You have to do something
now
or more people will die.”

The King strode rapidly toward the quarantine ship. “I have no cure for this malady, Tania,” he said. “You must reconcile yourself to that. But mayhap I can thwart death for a while….”

They came up onto the ship. Eden was huddled by the bed, her head fallen forward, her hands spread on the earl's chest.

“Stand back, my child,” said the King. “It is time for the Gildensleep.”

Eden looked up, a new hope in her eyes. She got to her feet and stepped away from the bed.

Oberon reached out one spread-fingered hand
over the earl. A deep stillness came over Faerie. Even the seagulls were silenced, and Tania could no longer hear the creak of timbers or the slap of waves on the hull.

Oberon's hand began to glow. Drops of gold fell like honey from his fingertips. They splashed just above the earl's chest as though they were hitting an invisible glass dome. The golden drops ran down to either side in curved streams, spreading and forking into a fine filigree of shining threads. And then Tania saw the earl's thin body rise slowly from the bed. The threads of golden light spun beneath him so that he was cocooned in their radiance.

Eden let out a gasp of amazement as the shell of golden strands twined and twisted together, completely encompassing the earl, his floating body still visible through the corona of light.

Tania looked into the King's face. He was frowning and his mouth was tight, as though the enchantment was putting a strain on him. He let his hand fall. The cocoon of glowing golden threads hung still in the air.

“There, 'tis done.” The King gasped. “The earl will slumber deeply now in the embrace of the Gildensleep. No evil will come nigh him. The despoliation of his body is halted.” Tania saw that a serenity had come over the earl's face now—as if the pain had been drawn away from him.

Tania gazed at her father in awe. “That's totally
amazing!” she said. “You've put him in some kind of cryogenic suspension.”

“I do not know the words you use, daughter.”

“You've frozen him, haven't you?” said Tania. “He'll stay like that till we find a cure.”

“Or until I can no longer keep the enchantment alive,” said Oberon.

“Is it hard, then?” Tania asked. “It looked hard.”

“Hard?” The King looked pensively at her. “Nay, the charm did not tax me overmuch, child—but it will only last so long as I remain wakeful.”

“For the Gildensleep to exist, the King must not drowse,” said Eden.

Tania looked up at him. “How long can you stay awake?” she asked uneasily.

Oberon didn't reply.

“My Lord Father,” said Eden, taking the King's hand. “Others are on the threshold of death belowdecks. Can you bring aid to them also?”

“I can.” The King went to the hatch and climbed down.

Tania looked at her sister. “How long
can
he stay awake?” she asked.

“I do not know,” Eden replied. “But the enchantment of the Gildensleep will quickly drain his strength.” She looked at Tania. “And the more of our folk he has to protect, then the swifter will he tire.”

“Then we probably have a few days at most?”

“Aye, mayhap—but with each new victim, our time
dwindles.” She touched her hand against the golden cocoon and it glided silently and smoothly through the air. “Come now, sister. The sooner we are all within the walls of Veraglad, the sooner will the folk of this town be safe from danger.”

 

The interior of Veraglad Palace was delicate and graceful beyond anything Tania could have imagined. Its rooms and hallways were full of dancing light and the subdued play of soft colors, the white surfaces sending pale shadows leaping and colliding. Gentle music played everywhere, coming from the trembling crystal droplets of chandeliers and from water that ran in fountains of colored glass.

People gathered at first in the airy atrium inside the gatehouse, putting down their burdens and waiting patiently while Lord Brython and the earl marshal spoke with the palace retainers and made preparations for this sudden influx of unexpected and uneasy guests.

Tania stood to one side, wishing she could help but knowing at the same time that she would only make the Faerie folk more fearful if she approached them. She felt useless—and worse than useless: She felt a crushing responsibility for what was happening. She could no longer pretend this was anything other than a Mortal disease brought into Faerie by her Mortal parents.

She heard a sudden murmuring and the rustle
of hasty movements behind her. She turned to see Titania and Hopie lead the floating golden cocoons of Gildensleep in through the gateway, pushed gently forward by wardens. The other folk backed away from the cocoons, their faces filled with fear as they huddled in the far corners of the wide antechamber of the palace.

“We will place the sick all together in Cerulean Hall,” said Titania. “Its windows face east to the rising sun. Though they will see it not, the sun may comfort their souls.”

Tania watched in sorrow and distress as the cocoons were guided through the doors of the hall and into a soft blue radiance. More folk came in through the gateway, and Tania saw that Sancha was among them.

“Well, my love, will you aid us now?” Sancha asked, looking solemnly at Tania. “Our need is great.”

“I know that,” said Tania. “But what can I do? Everyone is scared of me. They think I brought the plague here.”

“I am not scared of you,” Sancha said simply. “The library here is not so extensive as my own in the Royal Palace, but mayhap there are books that will be of use to us. Would you come with me to fetch them?”

“Of course.” Tania was glad to be asked; she was desperate to help in any way that she could.

Sancha led her up a long winding staircase to the first of a series of wide galleries that overlooked the entrance hall. She pushed open a door, and Tania saw
a room filled with laden bookshelves. “We will take those books I deem relevant down to Cerulean Hall. I would be with Hopie and our mother while I work. Together we may find a way to defeat this thing.”

It took Sancha a while to pick the books she wanted. They smelled old and timeworn to Tania as Sancha heaped them into her arms.

At last the two of them made their way back down the stairs. The atrium was beginning to empty as people were allocated rooms. Tania noticed Edric a little way off helping a woman with three small children. It was the first time she had seen him since Leiderdale.

If he saw her, he showed no sign of it, and she made no attempt to speak to him. What could she possibly say? Even
looking
at him tied knots in her stomach.