The Immortal Realm (21 page)

“What a mess,” remarked Connor. “Bring the light over here, Tania.” He opened another door.

A similar scene of chaos met their eyes.

“I think we're going to be here a while,” said Tania. She frowned. “I'd hoped we'd be able to get this done quickly. I can't bear the thought of people suffering all over Faerie.”

Connor gazed into the heights of the tower. “If every room looks like this,” he said, “I think we're going to be here for the next ten years!”

“Let us hope not,” murmured Rathina. “For who then shall still be alive?”

 

“Rathina! If I felt anything, I'd tell you!”

Tania had lost all track of time. It felt as if they'd been in the flint tower for hour upon fruitless hour. For want of any other system they had worked their laborious way from the ground up, entering every room on every gallery. Connor would let the light play over the chaotic shambles of discarded books and
scrolls, and Tania would stare around the crammed shelves, hoping that something would catch her eye or that there would be a tingling in her head to indicate that the Kiss of Seeking was working.

In among the manuscripts and scrolls they also came occasionally upon curious little devices and instruments, ancient-looking and inscrutable—but clearly made from metal! Rathina had no explanation for how they might have come here, and all they could assume was that in distant times, they must have been brought through from the Mortal Realm to be studied. But by whom and why they could not guess. Tania was careful to avoid touching them.

But Rathina was clearly growing impatient with the long search. And she was not the only one. Tania wished Eden had explained how the Kiss of Seeking worked. Would she feel something if she came close to the thing they were looking for? Or did she have to make physical contact with it? And what
was
it? A book? A scroll or parchment?
What?

It was all so vague—and this whole quest had only been set in motion because of a dream.
If you would cure us all, seek the Lost Caer…

But what if the words Cordelia had spoken in the dream actually meant
nothing
? What then?

Rathina pulled open another door. Dust revolved slowly in the flashlight beam. Its light was growing yellowish, as if the batteries were beginning to run out.

And what happens then?
Tania wondered as she stepped into the disordered room.
How are we going to
find whatever-it-is in the dark?
She stared around at the clutter of documents and books.

She was about to leave when she felt a curious sensation in her fingers: a fierce tingling like pins and needles. She stopped, her eyes widening as she looked at Connor. Rathina had already moved on to the next door.

“What?” Connor asked. “Do you feel something?”

“Yes.” Tania reached out her arms and turned in a slow circle. The tingling became so sharp that she screwed up her eyes and bit her lip. She stepped toward a heaped table. An ivory-colored parchment scroll lay among others.

Her fingers prickled and buzzed as she touched it. She gasped. “This is it.”

Connor came into the room. “I'll make some space so you can unroll it.” With a sweep of his arm he cleared half the table, the papers and books tumbling to the floor with a flurry of dust.

Tania unrolled the scroll and gently spread it out on the table. The tingling in her fingers was gone now—as if the power in the Kiss of Seeking had done its work and faded away.

“What have you found, sister?” Rathina leaned over her shoulder. “Spirits of lore! 'Tis a marvelous ancient artifact.”

The scroll was a map. It had been drawn on a length of cloth—linen or something similar—but time had stained the material to a musty brown, so that in darker brown places the depicted lands were hardly
discernible in the murk.

The map showed two islands: one large and eccentrically shaped, the other smaller and more or less oval. The larger landmass was full of detail: Rivers and forests and mountains were graphically represented, and there were also many dots and small squares that Tania assumed were villages and castles. There was writing, too—presumably place names—but the script was in a language that Tania could not read. The other island was entirely blank.

“It's the British Isles,” said Connor breathlessly. “What's a map of the British Isles doing
here
? And why is it lying on its side?”

“Remember?” Tania said. “Faerie is like an exact replica of the UK—well, not
exactly
exact but pretty close. And why should north always be at the top, anyway?”

Connor blinked at her. “Fair point,” he said.

She leaned closer and found the curved line of the south coast. “That's Veraglad Castle,” she said. “See the little building with the towers?” The palace was represented by a simple square with three narrow triangles on its top. She slid her finger along to a writhing line. “And that's the River Tamesis—the Thames to you.”

“Wow,” said Connor. “So that's London.”

“Where you come from it is,” Tania said. “But here it's the Royal Palace.”

“So where are we now?”

Rathina leaned over and touched a fingertip to the map close to the center of Faerie. “We are here,” she said, her finger just beneath a black square with a half-
moon dome on its top. “In the Earldom of Sinadon, between Lang Fells and the Bight of Damask.”

“Eden brought us quite a way in that horse-of-air thing of hers,” said Connor. “I'd love to know how it works.”

“That has already been explained to you,” said Rathina.

“Yes, but I meant I'd like to know how to work it
myself
.”

“A Mortal learn the Mystic Arts?” scoffed Rathina. “I think not!”

Connor gave her a quick, slightly irritated glance.

“It takes a long time to learn that stuff,” Tania pointed out.

“If you say so.” He gestured toward the top of the map. “That's Ireland, right?”

“Ireland?” said Rathina. “I know it not by that name. That is the land of Alba.”

“Alba?” said Tania. “Where our mother comes from?”

“Indeed. Although this map predates her arrival on the shores of Faerie by many thousands of years.” She frowned. “It is a strange place, or so the legends say, where Mortals dwell among talking salamanders and mischievous goblins and commune with water sprites who are half human and half fish.”

“Have you ever been there?” asked Connor.

“Nay, Master Connor. We do not venture into the Western Ocean, not beyond sight of land, in any event.”

“Why not?”

“That can wait!” Tania interrupted them. “People are ill all over Faerie. We're here to look for some mention of the Lost Caer so we can try and help them, okay?”

“Sorry,” said Connor. “It's just, there's so much stuff I want to…” His forehead wrinkled. “Sorry.”

“If the Kiss of Seeking worked right and this map is the thing we need, we should go over it really carefully,” Tania said. “Rathina? You know Faerie a lot better than I do. Does anything obvious pop out at you that could help us on our quest?”

Rathina moved between Connor and Tania, leaning stiff-armed on the table, her hands on either side of the map, her head down as she studied it. “The script is in a crabbed and curious hand and much of it can no longer be read,” she said after a short while. “But the map shows the ten Caers most clearly and I recognize all of them.” She moved her finger over the map. “See? Cruithni in Dinsel. Eden's Caer Mynwy. Seagirt Kymry. Liel of Weir. Circinn in the north. All are here.”

“But no extra one?” asked Tania.

“Give me a moment, sister,” muttered Rathina. “Master Connor, hold the light steady. Why is it growing so pale?”

“The batteries are low,” Connor said, slapping the side of the flashlight with his hand. “We haven't got much time.” He brought the yellowing beam of light closer to the map. “That better?”

“Indeed,” said Rathina. “Would that I could make out more details. Time has dealt harshly with this ancient thing.”

“Can't you see
anything
unusual?” asked Tania.

“Ha!” Rathina's voice rang out sharply. “Now,
here's
a thing! Sister, I think I have it!”

“Where?” Tania and Connor leaned in close.

Rathina's finger was resting on the coastline of Faerie, some way to the northwest of Caer Regnar Naal. “See you the spit of land that pokes its tongue into the sea just beyond the southern border of Weir?” she said. “And see you moreover the steepled castle depicted at its seaward end?”

“Yes.” A frisson of hope thrilled in Tania's chest.
“Yes?”

Rathina smiled. “I know of no such promontory in that place,” she said. “Nor of a castle standing at its point.”

“I don't understand,” said Tania. “You mean it doesn't exist?”

“She means it doesn't exist
now
,” Connor said excitedly. He looked at Rathina. “You mean it's gone, right? But don't forget this map is thousands of years old. There must have been a landslide or some heavy coastal erosion at some time—and the whole lot fell into the sea.” He stabbed at the map. “I'll bet you anything you like: That's our Lost Caer!”

Rathina leaned so close to the map that her hair coiled on the ancient spotted and tarnished linen. “It has a name,” she murmured. “I can barely make it out.” She lifted her head, her eyes triumphant. “Caer Fior!” she said. “Its name is Caer Fior!”

A curious sensation burned in Tania's heart at the sound of that name. It reminded her of the giddying, enticing terror that she had felt upon the brink of the cliffs at Beachy Head. Like the whisper of a bewitching voice luring her to her doom. Like a dangerous destiny calling from afar.

Connor let out a long breath. “Well, it looks like we've found it,” he said. “Or to be more precise, we know where it
used
to be.” He looked questioningly at the two sisters. “So? Now what? How does this help us with the cure?”

“I am unsure. The Lost Caer is drowned deep,” said Rathina. “What possible aid can it offer us under ten fathoms of seawater?” She looked at Tania. “We
must return to Veraglad and lay our discoveries before the King and Queen. Mayhap they have lore enough to understand what is to be done now.”

“No,” Tania said. “We must press on ourselves. Rathina? How long would it take us to get there?”

“Very long indeed, unless we are to enlist the aid of the kelpie of the deep seas,” replied Rathina.

“I don't know what that means.”

“Kelpie are water-horses, sister,” Rathina said with a hint of humor in her voice. “We should surely need them to bear us under the waves, for the closest we will be able to come to the Lost Caer is the village that lies on the landward end of the promontory—see, it is marked here and named as Faith-in-the-Surf. A curious name, but then it lies in Weir, and in that Earldom all things are strange.”

“Listen,” Tania said determinedly. “Till now I've only half believed that my dream meant anything at all.” She gestured toward the map. “But this changes everything. There
is
a Lost Caer, and this map shows us where it is. I don't care whether it's under the sea or not. We have to get as close as we can to it. In my dream Cordelia said, ‘If you would cure us, seek the Lost Caer.' And that's exactly what I intend to do.” She looked from Rathina to Connor. “Anyone coming with me?”

“You bet,” said Connor. “I'm up for anything.”

“I will go with you, Tania,” Rathina said with a small smile. “Such ardor and purpose should not go unrewarded!”

“Good. So, like I said, how long will it take us to get there?”

“If Eden's touch proves true and the wild horses will do our bidding, we could cover the distance in two days—maybe less.” Rathina eyed Connor dubiously. “If all are fit to sit bareback upon untamed steeds, that is.”

Connor laughed. “You're kidding me,” he said. “My parents used to run a riding stable. I could ride before I knew how to use a bicycle. Just point me in the direction of the fastest horse, and leave the rest to me.”

Rathina grinned at Tania. “It seems this Mortal has some worthy skills, sister,” she said. “I would feel fresh air upon my face. Need we linger anymore in this sad and desolate place?”

“No,” Tania said, rolling the map. “Let's get out of here.”

 

Rathina and Connor closed the huge iron door of the Helan Archaia, the lock clanking with a harsh sound as the Isenmort Portal slammed shut.

Connor's flashlight finally died as they approached the stairway that would take them up to daylight. “Fair exchange is no robbery,” he murmured, leaving it standing on the bottom step.

Tania gave him a questioning look.

He shrugged. “It's not like we're going to be able to pop down the road and buy new batteries, is it?” he said.

“Let it stand there for all time,” said Rathina. “As
proof that a Mortal man was once here to the benefit of Faerie!”

Tania nodded and began to climb the black stairs.

The sun was low in the sky as they came up out of the deep darkness of Caer Regnar Naal. They had been many hours in the colorless world of that deserted subterranean place, and Tania felt refreshed by the green of the forest and the blue of the evening sky.

The troop of horses had moved closer to the long hill, almost as though they were waiting for them to emerge.

Connor walked slowly toward them, stretching out one hand and making a clicking sound with his tongue.

One of the horses broke from the rest and ambled up to him, its hide a rich, creamy gold, its mane and tail black, its shaggy head nodding.

“There's a good boy,” Connor said gently, patting the horse's neck. “Are you going to let me take a ride?” He glanced back at Tania and Rathina, then in a single nimble movement sprang onto the horse's back. He made more of the clicking noises with his tongue, patting the animal's withers and pressing in sharply with his knees. The horse broke into a trot and halted a few steps away from the two sisters.

“You sit well, Master Connor,” said Rathina. “And see, two more steeds come. Eden knows her craft well.”

Tania looked. A bay mare and a black stallion were trotting toward them.

“Yes, she does,” said Tania with a smile. A sudden, rolling boom at her back made her jump. She spun around. The huge entrance stone to Caer Regnar Naal had slammed shut.

“Sleep well, ghosts of ghosts long departed,” called Rathina. “Keep the rest of your secrets. We know now all we need to know of the ancient times.”

Tania ran her hand along the shining brown flanks of the horse that had presented itself to her. It looked at her with large dark, wise eyes, then lifted its head high and neighed. She mounted up and looked at Rathina. “Which way to the Caer?”

Rathina jumped lightly onto her horse's back. She flung her arm forward, her finger pointing. “That way!” she cried. “To the north! To Weir! And to our destiny!” Her horse burst into a canter, its black mane and tail flying as it thundered through the grass. Rathina clung low to its back, her dark hair streaming.

“Wow!” said Connor, urging his own horse into movement. “Can she ride!”

Tania slapped her horse's neck. “Let's go, boy,” she said. The horse surged forward. She gripped tight with her knees, leaning forward, her hands on the broad muscular neck, her head between the long ears.

The sun was warm on the left side of her face, the balmy air pulling at her long red hair. She did not know what was to come nor even what they were looking for—an enchantment, an elixir, a rare medicinal herb—but ahead of them lay new hope and the chance that she would save the ailing people of Faerie.

 

They rode the evening away through a flat landscape of woods and rough, tussocky grasses. At times they came across lush meadows with meandering streams and dense pillows of blue cornflowers and yellow poppies, the tall wild flower heads floating about them and sending up a rich, sweet scent. Away to their right Tania could see the rising shapes of hills black and stark against the fading light of the day.

They entered a forest, Rathina in the lead, their horses slowing to a trot as they navigated their way through a realm of broad-beamed chestnut trees. When they reemerged, it was to see an indigo sky pulsating with Faerie stars. The moon hung huge and low, full as ever, white as snow.

“We have come far,” Rathina called back to them. “This is a good place to make camp for the night.”

“That's fine,” said Tania. “We'll stop here. But we can't sleep long. I want us to be ready to set off again at first light.”

 

Tania lay on a mossy bank close by a rippling stream. She liked the music of the water as it danced over the stones. She was on her back, her hands behind her head, her stomach full, and her mind drowsy. A nightingale sang close by and the air was full of the scents of night flowers and the dusky fluttering of brown and cream-colored moths.

The night was warm and there had been no need to build a fire. They had sat by the stream and eaten
bread and cheese and cold cuts of meat. When they had eaten and drunk enough, they stretched themselves on the ground.

But although Tania was weary, she did not immediately fall asleep. A sense of peace pervaded the place and she wanted to bask in it for a while. It was hard to believe here that a deadly plague was laying waste to the people of Faerie. But it was also an impossible thing to forget.

Connor was lying nearby. “Tania?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you expect to find when we get to Caer Fior? I mean, if Rathina is right, it's pretty much
gone
, isn't it? And even if there's anything left of it, it'll be under water.” He turned onto his side, his eyes glittering in the moonlight. “I'm guessing they don't have much in the way of submarines or diving equipment here. So how would we even get to it?”

Tania turned her head. She could see the dark shape of her sister lying a little way off, curled up with her back to them. “I don't know, yes it will be, no they don't, and I don't know,” she said in answer to his questions. “This whole thing started off with a dream, Connor. Do you really think I know what's coming next? I'm amazed that we've got this far.”

There was a pause. “How do you cope with this?” he asked at last. “All this magic. Doesn't it do your head in?”

She smiled. “Messing with your scientific brain, is it?” she asked. “My dad had the same problem. He
never said as much, but I'm sure he thought this whole place was just like some crazy computer game, you know? A nice way to pass a few idle hours but not
real
—not like London is real.”

“I don't think it isn't real,” said Connor. “I just can't get my head around what
kind
of real it is. I mean, I've checked out quantum mechanics and the chaos theory and all that freaky stuff, but
this
…?” He shuffled a little closer. “You said that Faerie is, like, the same as the British Isles only in a different dimension, right?”

“Something like that,” Tania replied. “I don't know if it's in another dimension or where it is. All I know is how to get from one to the other.” She frowned. “I mean, I used to know how to do it before they closed everything down,” she added regretfully. “That's all finished with now.”

“Everyone I ever knew, everything I've ever done…it's gone. Gone forever,” Connor murmured. “I still can't make sense of that. It's just too huge, know what I mean?”

“I do,” Tania said softly.

“But what's puzzling me right now,” he continued, “is how come the moon isn't the same as on Earth.” He looked up, his eyes shimmering with silvery light. “It's bigger for a start,” he said. “And there's nothing on it: no craters and shadows and stuff. How is that?”

“Don't ask me,” said Tania. “For all I know it's made of green cheese.”

“You are so laid-back about all this, I can't believe it,” said Connor. “And you were really inquisitive when
you were a kid—nosing into everything, forever asking questions. ‘How does this work? What happens if I do this? What's that for?' You used to drive my mum to distraction when you came to visit.”

Tania chuckled. “Did I? Poor her.”

“Do you remember you wanted to be a reporter? You used to go around with a notepad and a pencil and you'd be forever writing stuff down. And you'd do interviews on me, remember? I had to pretend to be a pop star or a famous explorer, and you'd be the TV anchorgirl. You invented your own talk show:
Anita Time.
Remember that?”

That made her laugh out loud. “I had totally forgotten that.
Anita Time!
Yes!”

“You were kind of funny-looking when you were a kid,” Connor said. “You always had your hair up in big bunches tied with elastic bands, and you were really skinny with long gangly arms and legs and big buckteeth.”

“I know! I looked like a total geek!”

“You've improved a lot.”

“Thanks.”

“No.
Really.
You're amazing looking now.”

There was a slight change in the tone of his voice. She looked at him and saw that he was gazing intently at her. Uneasy alarm bells rang in her mind.

“If you say so.” She looked into the sky.

He reached out and slid his fingers through her hair.

“Connor, don't,” she said gently.

“Sorry.” He drew his hand back. “I was only checking to see if you had pointy ears.”

“Why should I have pointy ears?”

“Well, you're Immortal and you live in a magical land. I thought maybe you were an elf.”

She spluttered with laughter. “No,” she said. “I'm not an
elf
. I don't actually think elves exist.”

“No,” Connor said softly. “And neither should beautiful Faerie princesses.”

Tania didn't feel comfortable with the way the conversation was going. “The stars are all different here to how they are on Earth,” she said quickly. “Did you notice that?”

“I did,” Connor said, his voice switching back to its regular tone. “I don't recognize any of the constellations up there. Do they even
have
constellations here?”

“Yes, they do,” said Tania. She pointed. “Those three stars in a row with two going off at an angle—that's called the Starved Fool. And the five stars—” She stopped speaking.

“The five stars?” Connor prompted her. “They're what?”

“We should get some sleep,” Tania said, her voice suddenly brittle. “Rathina wants us to get going at first light.”

She turned onto her side, facing away from Connor.

“Tania? What's wrong? What just happened?”

“Nothing. Go to sleep.”

She could feel him close behind her for a little while, but at last she heard him move a little way off and then become still.

She closed her eyes tightly, but still a few tears escaped, running down her face and into her hair. A vivid memory had torn through her mind like a bolt of lightning.