Authors: Frewin Jones
Tania scrambled to her feet. Even though the woman’s features were twisted with rage, Tania could see the resemblance to Oberon in her pale, drawn face.
Panting, she held her hands up. “Eden, stop!”
“You fool!” Eden spat. “What are you doing here? The Oriole Glass is a dark and murderous thing.”
“What do you mean?”
“It is a portal into the Mortal World.” Eden turned toward the window and gave a high, passing move with her hand. The rainbow of lights dimmed and the room became bleak and gray again.
“It is closed now,” she said. “The peril is gone.”
“But I’m supposed to be able to get into the Mortal World, and get back again,” Tania said. “It’s in the poem. I’m the seventh daughter, aren’t I?” She watched her sister closely. “That’s why I came here to
see you. I need to know how to control the power. I want you to help me learn how to walk between the worlds.”
Eden turned to look at her. She was close enough now for Tania to see the pain in her deep brown eyes and in the tense lines around her mouth.
“That I shall never do,” Eden said.
Tania stepped forward but Eden moved back quickly, as if to avoid being touched.
“I have to let my parents know that I’m all right,” Tania pleaded. “They’ll be crazy with worry.” She gave Eden a determined look. “You have to help me,” she said. “I’m not leaving here till you do.”
Eden’s eyes flashed.
Uh-oh
, Tania thought.
Wrong thing to say.
Eden thrust out an arm toward Tania. She was beyond Eden’s reach, but a force hit her like an invisible wall crashing against her chest. It curled around her, wrapping her in a fierce embrace that pinned her arms to her sides. She couldn’t move; she could barely breathe.
She felt herself being lifted from the floor.
“Eden,” she managed to gasp. “Don’t—”
Eden gave a flick of her wrist and suddenly Tania was speeding through the air, still held immobile by the clenched fist of Eden’s power. She was whisked helplessly through the gray door, across the lobby, and out into the courtyard.
She heard the hollow boom as the black door slammed at her back. She was held for a moment, her
feet dangling above the cobbles. Then, as if released by an opening hand, she dropped to the ground. The impact sent her crashing onto her hands and knees, gulping for air like a stranded fish.
She scrambled to her feet and ran back to the door.
“Eden!” she shouted, hammering on the wood with both fists. “You have to let me back in!”
But this time the door didn’t open, and no matter how hard she threw herself against the black panels, it stayed closed.
She slid down the door and sat heavily on the top step. She gave the door a final despairing thump with the side of her fist and then slumped down, her face in her hands. Without Eden’s help she might never learn how to control her power. She might never see her mortal parents again.
She only let herself lose hope for a few moments before she got to her feet and ran around to the window. She stared in through the glass—but the room was empty. Eden was gone.
“Oh, nice going, Tania,” she muttered. “You really messed up that one.”
She turned and walked back across the courtyard.
Someone was standing under the archway that led to the gardens. He stepped into the light, his black cloak billowing around him.
“Gabriel!” Tania gasped. “You startled me.”
“You should not have come to this sad place,” Gabriel said gently. “There is nothing here for you.”
Tania gave a shrug of her shoulders. “I thought
Eden might help me to contact my parents,” she explained. “My
mortal
parents, I mean.”
“Come, let us be away from here,” Gabriel said.
Tania allowed herself to be shepherded out of the courtyard.
“I understand your desire to ease the suffering of those whom you have left behind,” Gabriel went on. “But it is a dangerous thing that you are attempting.”
“You mean you know why I want to see my parents, but you don’t think it’s a great idea, right?”
Gabriel frowned. “No, it is not a
great idea
,” he echoed carefully. He hesitated before going on. “You know that I am your friend.”
She touched his arm. “Of course.”
“Then listen to me. You should not go to Princess Eden for help. Her spirit is cracked and twisted. I do not know why. Perhaps her heart was broken by the death of the Queen. But I fear it was by studying the Mystic Arts too deeply that she was driven out of her mind.”
Tania looked sharply at him. “Can that happen? Can the Mystic Arts make you crazy?”
“There is a saying,” Gabriel said. “Go not so deep into the dragon’s cave that you cannot see the light at your back.”
“Um,” Tania said, biting her lower lip. “And you think Eden went too deep into the dragon’s cave and kind of got…
eaten
by the dragon, is that it?”
“Princess Eden has wandered far from the light,” Gabriel said. “I would not have you follow her along
that dreadful path.”
“I understand.” Tania sighed. “I don’t know what to do, Gabriel,” she said. “I’m so mixed up right now that I feel like I’ve spent the last few days in a blender. My life made some kind of sense back home, but
here
?” She shook her head. “I haven’t got a clue who I am or what I’m supposed to do with the rest of my life.” She frowned. “The only thing I know for sure is that I have to see my parents, even if it’s only for one last time.” She looked pleadingly at him. “I have to!”
“I know it is hard,” he said, his voice full of sympathy. “But you are Princess Tania of Faerie; that is the undying truth. The person you were in the Mortal World is gone forever. Trust me, Tania, I wish only to bring you comfort. Do not grieve for that which is gone. Forget the Mortal World.” His intense eyes burned into her face. “There are those here that love you, that have always loved you. Turn from the past, Tania, and accept that you have purposes and duties here in your father’s Realm.”
“What kind of duties?” she asked. “And what
purpose
? I don’t feel like I have either of those things.”
“Then learn more of your inheritance,” he said. “Discover who you are and seek to know the Realm of Faerie better.”
“How?”
“Your sister Princess Sancha may hold the answers,” he said. “She spends her days steeped in the ancient texts, and she has much wisdom. Go to the library and speak with her.” He stopped walking and turned,
resting his hands on her shoulders and looking deep into her eyes. Tania realized that without her even noticing, he had brought her all the way to the door of her bedchamber.
“I must leave you, Tania,” he said. “But heed my words: Do not go again to Princess Eden for aid. She can give you none, and I would not have you poisoned by the serpent of her unreason.”
He bowed low, lifting her hand and kissing it lingeringly and softly before turning on his heel and striding away. She gazed after him, suppressing an urge to run after him.
At last, she went into her room and closed the door, deep in thought. Maybe Gabriel was right; maybe Eden wasn’t the right person to go to for help.
“I’m not going to give up on getting to see my parents, though,” she said aloud. “I don’t care what anyone says.” She walked over to the bed and picked up the book. She would go and talk to Sancha. And she’d show her the leather-bound book; maybe someone with Sancha’s knowledge would be able to shed some light on where the book came from, and who may have sent it to her.
She found Sancha alone in the great library, sitting at her desk with a large open book in front of her. The pages were framed with narrow, intricately intertwined ribbons of bright colors—green and red and yellow. The beautiful, scrolling script looked handwritten, a pale powder blue against the ivory pages,
and at the start of each new paragraph, the first letter was decorated with finely drawn illustrations of vines and leaves and flowers.
She read a few words over Sancha’s shoulder.
We are all still here—no one has gone away
…
“Hello,” Tania said. “Are you busy?”
Sancha smiled up at her. “No, I am at my leisure,” she said. “I am reading Earl Marshal Cornelius’s diary of the Wars of Lyonesse. But are you well, Tania? I was concerned when you fled the dining table last eve. We wished to follow you and give you comfort, but Gabriel said we were wiser to let you be. What was the matter?”
“Oh, you know.” Tania shrugged. “Just stuff.”
Sancha looked puzzled. “Stuff…?”
Tania placed the book in front of her sister on the desk. “I thought you might be able to tell me something about this,” she said.
Sancha stared at the book in amazement. “By the sun, moon, and stars!” She gasped. “Whence came this? How is it that you have it?”
“Good question,” Tania said. “I was kind of hoping you’d be able to tell me.” She smiled. “I take it you know what it is, then?”
“It is your Soul Book,” Sancha said, reaching out one long-fingered hand but drawing it back again without actually touching the book. “It has been missing for centuries.” She looked up at Tania. “It was in your keeping all the time?”
“No way. The first I saw of it was a couple of days
back,” Tania explained. “It was sent to me on my birthday. No return address, no note inside, nothing.” She frowned. “What’s a Soul Book?”
“Come,” Sancha said. “Bring the book. I will show you where it belongs.” She stood up. She made a liquid gesture with her hand over the book that she had been reading. Tania watched in astonishment as the book closed itself and lifted off the table. It floated for a moment, then glided across the library, turning slowly until it stood upright in the air, before slipping into a gap on one of the shelves.
Sancha was halfway across the floor. She turned. “Will you come?” she asked.
Tania let out a breath. “Is that your
gift
?” she asked. “Being able to move things without touching them?”
Sancha smiled. “Indeed,” she said. “And most useful, is it not, for one whose life is spent among all these weighty tomes.”
“Do we all have gifts?” Tania asked, hefting her book in her arms and walking over to where Sancha was standing. “I know Cordelia can understand animals, but what about Zara and the others?”
“Zara’s gift is in her music,” Sancha said. “She can weave enchantments in song that would make the stars weep and the sun roar with laughter!” She smiled. “Hopie’s gift is healing,” she continued, but now her voice fell. “And Eden had a great aptitude for the Mystic Arts.”
“What about Rathina?”
“Her gift has not yet revealed itself,” Sancha said. “But she is only seventeen—the gifts usually make themselves known during our sixteenth year, but sometimes they come later, so there is time yet for Rathina to discover her own unique blessing.”
Sancha led Tania across the black-and-white floor to a winding wooden staircase. They climbed to the first book-lined gallery, then circled the room until they came to a second stairway.
Sancha led her all the way up to the fourth gallery, high above the floor. Tania’s head was filled with the smell of leather and of ancient paper. Particles of dust circled in the golden sunlight that poured in through the long windows. There was a kind of stillness up here near the domed ceiling that made Tania want to hold her breath and move on tiptoe so that it would not be disturbed.
She looked down over the polished wood banister. The spiral pattern of the floor seemed to start revolving. She quickly looked away.
Sancha stepped into a small alcove with padded leather benches. At the far end, under a sunlit window, stood a reading lectern carved into the shape of an eagle with its wings spread wide. The shelves were filled with books. Sancha pointed to a dark gap between two of them.
“Here is where your Soul Book should rest,” she said. “Between the Soul Book of Zara and that of Earl Marshal Cornelius of Talebolion.” She looked at Tania. “He is our uncle, the younger brother of our
beloved father. Do you see? The books are in order of rank; all the high-born of Faerie have Soul Books. They tell the tale of our lives. Yours went missing soon after you disappeared. Some thought you had taken it away with you, but Rathina said it was not so.” She frowned. “Did the book come to you while you were still in the Mortal World?”
Tania nodded.
“But you know not from whom?”
“I don’t have a clue,” Tania admitted. “I’ve read some of it, but the story stops when I did my vanishing act, and there’s nothing in there to explain exactly what happened.”
“Now that the book has been returned, the story of your life will begin to spin out onto the pages once more,” Sancha said.
“Sorry?” Tania said. “Run that past me again.”
Sancha blinked at her. “The book belongs here,” she explained. “Now that it has been returned, more words will come.”
“Will they?” Tania said. “How? Who’s going to write it?”
“The book will write itself.”
Tania grinned. “Get out of here!”
“Mercy, Tania!” Sancha looked shocked. “You cannot order me from my own library!”
“No, sorry, I didn’t mean…” Tania began. “Oh, never mind. But you mean the story will just carry on now that the book’s back here? That’s amazing. Am I allowed to take a look?”
Sancha nodded, gesturing toward the lectern. “Let it rest there, and you will see.”
Tania opened the book on the lectern, turning the pages until she came to the place where the story of her life had just stopped dead.
“Oh, wow!” Sancha was right. There was already more writing than she had seen before.
She followed the new gothic script with one finger, reading aloud.
“
Full joyous was King Oberon and all of his Realm upon the return of Princess Tania after five hundred years of sadness
,” she recited. “
Grim night turned into glorious day and all the people made merry, returning to the palace to give thanks and to gladden their eyes with the sight of the one who had been lost to us for so long
.”
Tania turned the page, desperate to find out what had happened to her between leaving Faerie and being born as Anita Palmer sixteen years ago. There was plenty more writing, but all it did was detail the things than had been going on over the past few days.