Arrival (9 page)

He shrugged and continued. “Then you know what this can mean if we so choose. It might be different this time. The princes, united, have the power to overthrow you, Mother.”

She froze, and a terrible sadness came into her eyes. “You would do this thing, would you?” she asked after a long time.

“In the name of the mother goddess, do not make me do it!” he said desperately.

She shook her head. “Perhaps we can talk about this later.” She looked back down at the stone and carefully placed her hands over it. There were ancient stones like these placed all over the world. Most humans thought them to be ornamental relics of a time long past, but to the Elvish people, they were communication devices. As she peered into its dark depths, the queen’s eyes widened. “The sending stone shines.”

Silven stood abruptly, his eyes betraying him. “Who is calling?”

“It’s Fern,” Liensenne whispered. “Your cousin needs help in the valley. Take a score of armed men.”

“What is it?”

She shook her head slowly, trying to hear the rushed, clumsy message her son had sent. “Sabre-tooths,” she replied, her brow furrowed. “Many of them. Go, Eben—you must hurry!”

And he did go, but first he turned to her, “I am so sorry. Let us not think on this again.”

Then he rode hard to save his brother. It was a long way, but Elvish horses are swift, and in the end they made it just in time. The fight in the valley had been a small one in his experience, but men had still been killed, so it was as terrible as any other.

Now there was the matter of finding out why the beasts were banding together and moving north. It was uncharacteristic for them to be travelling in such large numbers. But he would sort that out with Fern when they got back to the city. There were people to be healed.

Elixia recovered, and Cornelius ordered the army back to Sitadel. He and his daughter would make their way to the docks in order to sail to Uns Lapodis—there was business to be discussed, not least of all the strange behaviour of the beasts.

Prince Fern and his friend were planning on spending a night in the ice city, but no more, as they too had to leave for the high city as soon as possible. There was going to be a war council, and Cynis Witron needed its army commander there.

Jane had awoken on the bank of the river not long after her ordeal with the mermaid, and Fern’s worried face hovered above her.

The first thing she’d noticed was the small, white, perfectly round pearl hanging around her neck on a chain of gold. A healing gift. Jane knew that there was something strange about it. She could feel its power seeping into her, giving her life, taking away her weariness, helping her bear the burden of what she had been shown. It was a gift greater than she could know just then, but she made sure she tucked it safely under her shirt, where none but she would know about it.

“Jane!” Fern said loudly. She winced and looked at him. “Thank the gods,” he breathed, shaking his head and sitting back. “I thought you were dead.”

Jane struggled to sit up.

“What just happened?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “What did you see?”

“One minute you were standing on the river bank, the next minute you were in the water. I couldn’t even see you, and then a moment later you were back on the bank, unconscious, and I have no idea how you got there. It was as if you were drained of everything.”

“I suppose I had been,” she said, and then began to weigh up how much to tell. Was this something you could tell? Or was it too strange? “I met a mermaid, Fern.”

He stilled, and she knew she had his undivided attention.

“She showed me things. I don’t really know ... I don’t understand them. But some of the things ... I saw ... I cannot describe it to you. But she did show me Leostrial.”

Fern had a dark look on his face. He waited for her to go on.

“He is ... dangerous. He frightened me. We need to do something.”

“Do you know what he is planning? Does he want to attack us?”

“I don’t know,” she said helplessly. “I’m sorry.”

“We need to go to Uns Lapodis,” Fern said eventually, his face grim. “We can talk to King Gaddemar and decide what to do about this.”

“Where is Uns Lapodis?” she asked wearily.

“Over the sea. It is one of the three treaty countries of Paragor. I have told you about it before. It is the High Country, the most powerful of the three.”

Jane nodded.

“We’ll spend tonight in the Elvish castle and then head for the docks tomorrow.”

“What about my friends?”

“I have good reason to believe that they aren’t here—my father would know if they were. The next best place to look is Amalia, the capital of the High Country.”

“What if they landed on the side of a cliff like I did, and they were not lucky enough to have someone just wandering by?”

He looked at her slowly and shook his head. “I will do my best to find them. That’s all I can promise you.”

Jane looked at him. “Are you this charming to everyone?”

He flashed her a smile. “Of course. I’m a prince.” Which seemed an odd answer, and laced with a lot more than he had meant to express.

There was silence between them for a moment. “I’m sorry—” they both started to say at once. Fern laughed and said, “Let me go first. I was unforgivably rude. Forgive me.”

Jane shook her head. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.”

“Are we going to fight over who is the sorriest?” he asked and she laughed.

“If we did, I’d win,” she said. Something else came to her mind. “Fern, how do you know Eben and Silven and the Elves?”

He gave her a quick sideways look. “They are ... they are my relations,” he replied. “I am an Elf,” he said gently.

Jane stared at him.

Of course. His ears were too pointy, his eyes too vividly grey, he was too tall and so strangely beautiful. He moved differently—more gracefully than anyone she had ever seen. It had never occurred to her that he might actually not be human.

“Well, half-Elf,” he added, and when Jane didn’t say anything, he asked, “Do you find me repulsive now that you know I am not fully human?”

“No!” she replied quickly. “Of course not. But why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think it was necessary. I should tell you that I am also the third prince of the Elves.”

“You are prince of two different races? I don’t understand,” she said slowly.

“My mother is the Queen of the Elves. She had an Elvish husband and a child named Eben with him. He was first prince. The second prince, Silven was the son of the queen’s brother, and is my cousin. Then her husband died, and many years later she fell in love with my father, who is King of Cynis Witron, and human. It didn’t last long—just long enough for me to be born. I don’t know what happened—my mother has had a vendetta out against my father—well, all humans, actually—ever since. In any case, I am therefore rightful prince of each land.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve probably been acting in a manner most unfitting for the company of a prince,” Jane joked.

“Yes, I suppose you have. But that’s part of the fun. Promise me that you will not change your attitude towards me?”

“You said I was rude and outspoken,” she teased.

But he only smiled. “You are far too arrogant by half, but people don’t change, so I won’t hold it against you.”

Jane opened her mouth to say something cutting to wipe the smile off his face, but found that she too was smiling. “So, who else are you the prince of? Ogres? Fairies?” she asked, almost exasperated.

“Only the mermaids,” he grinned.

Jane rolled her eyes and punched him in the arm. “Lame. Have you ever seen one, though?” she asked.

“No. They’re rare. I have heard of very few occasions when they have shown themselves, and then only ever to women. Perhaps that’s why I couldn’t see either of you in the water.”

“Why would she have spoken to me?” Jane asked. The last thing she wanted to admit to was the sickening feeling of foreboding in her stomach when she thought about the words. “You have to save this world.”

“Well, she obviously showed you Leostrial for a reason,” he said quickly and then changed the subject. “How many of you crossed over?”

“Six, including me,” Jane replied absently, “but Fern, why would she—?”

“Six?” he exclaimed. “You are you sure that all six crossed?”

“The mermaid showed me Luca, Anna and Harry first—they were in some sort of stone hall. It was huge, and they were surrounded by people, almost like a ball.” She smiled briefly at the thought of it, then quickly sobered at the look on Fern’s face. “But the other two, Jack and Mia, well I don’t know where they are at all. The mermaid said not to look for them, that they would turn up when the time was right.”

“Six Strangers in Paragor,” he murmured to himself. “Truly?”

“Yes. That’s what I just said.”

Fern didn’t speak. He stared into the distance, thinking hard. Jane looked at him carefully. There was something in his face that she could not quite read.

“What is it, Fern?” she asked again, and finally he turned to her, a strange mixture of elation and worry in his eyes.

“There is a prophecy,” he said heavily. “Your coming has been foretold, Jane. You’re almost like gods here.”

It took her a moment to form sound. “Huh?”

“I will recite to you the words of The Great One.”

Fern took a deep breath and spoke the words that were known to all in Paragor, the one truth that had united the people of all the countries in Paragor.

“There will come a time when greatness is needed. Strength, passion—goodness. For, in the land of Paragor, an oppressor travels closer. Six is the sacred number, and it is only by looking beyond ourselves that we will find salvation, and only through courage, honour and love that we will defeat the darkness that threatens to consume us.

“It is too easy to give in to sorrow—too easy to make a friend of pain. But sometimes this can only be learnt through those that can see us with all our beauty and all our sorrow. Who can see us in all our splendour, and all our putrescence...”

Jane shivered. How could this be about her and her friends? “I believe you,” she whispered, “but surely it’s not us. Couldn’t it just be a coincidence?”

“Do you truly think that? There have never been six to cross over at once, not for thousands of years. This cannot be just coincidence.”

“But Fern ... how can I do anything?”

“I don’t know, Jane, but I am more and more sure that when the time comes, you will.”

Jane wished she could be as sure. She hesitated for a moment, then said, “I have seen The Great One.”

Fern frowned. “How?”

“She showed me, in the water ... but Fern, I don’t even understand how it was that I was able to see such a thing. I don’t want to ... I can’t talk about it to you. I wouldn’t know how to put it into words.”

He nodded, but how could he possibly understand what she had seen? It was a burden she had to carry alone. The pearl throbbed warmly against her chest.

“You are the six. We have called you ‘the Bright Ones’. It is your task to save Paragor from drowning in darkness. Your destiny.”

Jane frowned. Was her fate already written? Did she have no choices of her own to make? “I don’t believe in destiny,” Jane said and shivered.

They entered the ice city later that day and arrived in the midst of a gigantic celebration. Jane was given a huge fur cloak and hat, for it was bitterly cold in the Elf realm. She was dumbstruck by the city’s beauty, and Fern laughed at her delight. She was also amazed that she had no trouble walking on the ice for it was, curiously, not slippery. Fern told her later that it had been enchanted many years past so that humans too could live in the city.

A flurry of Elvish people whisked her up to the castle, all smiles and laughter. With so much on her mind, Jane found it difficult to join in their happy mood.

Jane was taken off to dress for the ball. Too confused to protest, she followed some female Elves into a room in the palace and waited as they spoke animatedly in their own language.

A young woman came to help her dress and Jane found herself staring unabashedly at her elegance. She was slender, and very tall, with a pixie-like quality that was so graceful it was stunning.

“My name is Athena,” she spoke shyly, her accent much thicker than Fern’s.

“I’m Jane.”

“I know,” the girl replied and smiled. Athena was humming a tune, and Jane tried to catch it. It was the melody Fern had been whistling on the mountain when she’d first awoken.

“What are you singing?”

Athena paused and smiled again. “Just a silly tune.” Jane frowned, and the girl shrugged. “It is an old song. Written, I think, when the world was young. About happiness, and finding lost loves. Nothing too meaningful.”

Jane watched her for a moment and smiled at how the girl glowed. “You seem so happy,” Jane said and the girl flushed.

“There is a man here tonight whom I am to marry and I have not seen him for some time,” Athena confided. “I am to perform the ice dance with him tonight. It is a formal announcement of betrothal,” she went on and Jane wanted to ask more, but just then Athena held up a startling green dress and Jane pulled away.

“I couldn’t wear that!” she protested. There was no back at all, and the neckline plunged far lower than anything Jane had ever worn. It was made from a beautiful silk material that shone and shimmered in the light and looked more expensive than Jane’s entire wardrobe.

“Oh, but you must,” Athena pleaded, “You would look just wonderful.”

“I would freeze.”

“The dining hall is heated for guests, unlike the rest of the castle—we are immune to the cold.”

Jane looked sceptically at the dress, and then the girl, but Athena was so adamant that eventually Jane surrendered—she was too tired to argue.

Athena helped her into the exquisite dress and Jane tried not to think about how she must look standing next to such a beauty.

Then the young Elf dressed her hair, threading tiny pearls into it to match her necklace. Her face was to be done last but when the time came Athena decided Jane needed only the slightest of green colouring on her eyelids to match the dress.