The Lost Queen (12 page)

“Patience was never among her virtues,” Zara said. She glanced at Hopie. “And yet I pity her also, so lorn and forsaken out there in the wildlands.”

Tania looked at Eden. “But if you can't sense her, does that means she's not in Faerie anymore? Where could she have gone?”

“I know not,” Eden said. “What ship would bear her over the sea to another land? How would we not hear tell of it?” She shook her head. “She is veiled from me and I can do nothing to help her. She must return or not, in her own time and in her own way.”

Tania looked at her watch. It showed one minute to ten, the hands frozen at the exact time that she had stepped out of her bedroom. “I have to get back,” she said. She looked at Cordelia. “I don't suppose you have another stag on standby?”

“We will find a smoother ride to take you back to the Brown Tower,” Sancha said.

It was heart-wrenching for Tania to have to say good-bye so soon to her sisters and to leave Faerie after so short a time, but she felt an urgent need to get back home.

Home? She still thought of the Mortal World as home.

And yet when she was here, didn't she also think of this as home?

How would she ever be able to choose between her two worlds—between her two selves?

 

Sancha flicked the reins and the pony cart came to a jingling halt among the aspen trees.

“Thanks for the ride,” Tania said. “I loved the stag but it's a bit rough on the backside.” She climbed down.

“Your troubles swarm around your head like angry wasps, I know,” Sancha said. “But remember this, Tania: Even in the Mortal World, you are Princess Tania of the Royal House of Faerie.” Her dark eyes flashed. “Behave accordingly!”

Tania smiled at her. “I'll try,” she promised.

“Farewell, beloved sister,” Sancha called as she
touched the reins and set the pony trotting. “May angels of mercy defend you till we meet again.”

“Thanks,” Tania called, waving as the cart jogged off through the trees.

 

Her bedroom was dark and quiet. She listened for a moment, standing in the middle of the room where her side step had delivered her. She could faintly hear the sound of the television from downstairs. She glanced at the digital display on her bedside clock. It was a quarter past eleven. She had been in Faerie for a little over an hour.

She opened her bedroom door, feeling curiously calm. She adjusted her wristwatch as she descended the stairs, spinning the hands to make up the time that had been lost in her other home.

Sancha's parting words rang in her ears.

You are Princess Tania of the Royal House of Faerie. Behave accordingly!

Sancha was right. Tania couldn't pout and yell and stamp about the place and then expect to be treated like an adult. If she was going to make things right with her parents, then she would need to “behave accordingly.” And that meant sitting down with them and discussing their problems coolly and without anger.

She opened the living room door.

Her parents were in their usual places: Dad in his armchair, Mum on the couch with her legs curled under her. Their faces turned to her as she walked
into the room. There was a kind of wary anticipation in their eyes.

“Can we talk, please?” Tania asked.

“Of course,” said her mother. Her father reached for the remote and muted the television.

Tania took a deep breath. “I'm sorry for the way I behaved earlier,” she said. “I know you're only thinking of me, and I do understand your concerns about—about Evan. I really do. And I know I've done things recently that mean I have to earn your trust again. I'm determined to show you that I can be trusted, and I'll try my utmost never to hurt you again. But there's something you really need to understand. Evan means a lot to me, and he isn't to blame for anything I've done.”

“I don't think—” her mother began.

“Mary! Let her finish,” her father said.

“I don't want to be separated from Evan over the holidays,” Tania said. “I'd like you to change your minds about our seeing each other. He cares about me, and you're punishing him for something he didn't do. Let me start earning back your trust. Trust me to be with Evan—and trust him to be with me.” There was an odd silence once she had finished. She gave a weak smile and spread her hands. “That's it,” she said. “I'm done.”

Her mother looked piercingly at her. “He means that much to you?”

“Yes, he does.”

“First love is always very intense,” her mother said.
“But it rarely lasts. You realize that?”

Tania nodded. She wanted to tell her parents that the love between her and Edric was special—unbreakable—but she didn't. In millions of homes all over the world she knew that millions of teenagers were telling millions of parents that their love was special—and millions of times they were wrong. How could she prove to her parents that the bond between her and Edric really was exceptional, without telling them how and why?

“If we're going to treat you as an adult, then you must act like one,” her mother continued. “You're still under curfew, and we want you to do other things as well as seeing Evan. Balance your life out; don't spend all your time with him. See other people. Do other things.”

“And work hard at your summer assignments for school,” added her father.

“I'll do all those things,” Tania promised. “I'll do everything you want. Does that mean I can see him?”

“I suppose it does,” her mother said. “But not today! The curfew stands.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” Tania bounded up the stairs, eager to phone Edric with the good news. No more having to sneak around behind her parents' backs. No more having to lie about where she would be, who she was with.

She ran into her room.

It was like running into an exploding bomb.

A wall of burning, pitch-black force smashed into
her—as powerful as a gigantic punching fist—lifting her off her feet and sending her flying backward through the air.

She gasped, the breath knocked out of her as she came crashing to the carpet. The blackness surged over her like an avalanche, crushing her into the floor, blinding her, clogging her ears and nose and mouth, sending out tendrils of amber light to fry her eyes and sear her mind.

And then she had the sensation of falling—falling—falling through darkness into a bottomless black pit.

And then…nothing.

Tania woke up feeling strangely clear-headed. She wondered why she was lying flat on her back on her bedroom carpet. The door was open and although the room was unlit, a wedge of light was streaming in from the landing. She sat up and blinked around her. What was she doing on the floor? And what was that horrible taste in her mouth?

It was like…like rusty iron.
Yuck!

She got up. Her watch showed eleven twenty-five. It had been a quarter past eleven when she had stepped back from Faerie. She had gone down to speak with her parents, and then she had come running up here to call Edric with the good news.

And then she had woken up on the floor….

Strange. She must have fainted.

She made a face. The taste of iron was still in her mouth. She switched the light on and closed her door.
She found a pack of mints in the front pouch of her shoulder bag. Sucking one, she took out her phone and went over to the window. She gazed out at the dull gray-blue of the cloudy night sky as she speed-dialed Edric's number.

By the time she heard his voice the mint had completely overpowered the taste of iron in her mouth.

 

It was the following morning.

The rain flailed down the long curve of George Street, bouncing high off the pavements, gathering in dancing and spitting puddles, swirling in the gargling gutters. It ricocheted off cars and vans and umbrellas, sending pedestrians running for cover in shop doorways.

Tania wasn't bothered by the downpour. She and Edric ran hand-in-hand down the pavement, kicking up curved fins of rainwater as they went.

“Rain all you like!” she shouted. “Nothing's going to upset me today!”

“You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout!”
Edric howled into the sky,
“Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks…That make ingrateful man!”

“What's that a quote from?” Tania asked.

“King Lear, Act Three, Scene Two. A stormy heath.”

“Is there any Shakespeare you
don't
know?”

Edric grinned at her. “Not much. Didn't I mention? Shakespeare had Faerie blood in him.”

“Truly?”

He nodded. “Truly!”

“Wow!”

They came to the dogleg where George Street met Hill Street. The post office was on the corner. The sandwich bar was only a little farther down the road, just by the roundabout that led to Richmond Bridge.

The rain eased as they walked along. The dark clouds slid away, making way for a lighter layer that had an almost pearly sheen to it.

“The rain looks like harp strings,” Tania said, gazing toward the white, stone-built bridge. “Millions of harp strings strung between the earth and the sky. Do you have weather like this in Faerie? It's always been blue skies and sunshine when I've been there.”

“We have all kinds of weather. We have storms like you wouldn't believe, with thunder and lightning and rain that falls so heavily that the river can rise two or three feet in one day. And in the winter there are winds from the north that can freeze the sap in an oak tree, and snow that lies across the land like a deep white ocean. And on some nights in the depths of midwinter the cold is so intense that you can hear a sound—a whisper—that is like the stars frosting over.” He smiled. “On nights like that the best place to be is in a warm room in front of a blazing fire of yew logs.”

Tania gazed at him. Would she ever sit with him on a winter's night and watch the yew flames crackle and dance?

He gave a wry smile. “But for now it is a rainy summer's day in Richmond, and we have to decide where to look first.”

“We're pretty sure that it was Titania in that chauffeur-driven Lexus,” she said. “So I suppose we could start off by looking for a black Lexus.”

“Or for the kind of firm that would pay its people enough for them to have a chauffeur-driven Lexus,” Edric added.

“I still can't get over the idea of Titania being some high-powered business person,” she said. “What do you think she does for a living?”

“It could be just about anything,” Edric said. “Remember, she's had a long time to pick up money-spinning skills.”

It was obvious they needed to get off the main shopping streets, to find roads where shops gave way to offices and business centers. Even though it was Saturday, so there wouldn't be any office workers about, Tania thought they might find something to give them a clue—though she stopped short of hoping to find a plaque on a door reading “Titania, Queen of Faerie.”

After about fifteen minutes of fruitlessly tramping the back streets, Tania was just going to suggest a rethink when they passed a side street that made her pause. She stopped and looked at the name. Spenser Road. She stared down the street, not sure what it was that had made her stop.

The rain had eased to a fine drizzle and the sky was the color of porcelain, the clouds so thin in places that the pale sun could occasionally be seen, its misty disk soft and blurred like a tablet dissolving in water.

“What is it?” Edric asked.

“I'm not sure,” Tania said. On the right-hand side of the street she saw a low, red-brick wall surmounted by black railings. She led Edric to a high-arched wrought-iron gateway. Above the gateway words were picked out in wrought-iron letters:
THE SPENSER ROAD FORUM
. Beyond she saw a wide sunken courtyard of rain-washed gray stones. There were raised red-brick flower beds, and on three sides of the courtyard stood modern-looking office blocks of red brick with large windows that reflected the sky.

Tania lifted the latch on the iron gate and pushed it open. They walked down stone steps into the courtyard.

“No Lexus,” Edric said, looking around. “Nowhere for cars to park at all.”

Tania frowned. “I was so sure that this was the right place.”

But Edric wasn't looking at her. He was staring at a large freestanding sign that showed the names of the companies that had offices in the courtyard complex.

He pointed at the third name down. “See that one?”

THE PLEIADES LEGAL GROUP
.

“Does that mean something to you?” Tania asked.

Edric began to laugh softly.

“Edric!” Tania said, tugging at his hand. “Tell me!”

“I take it you've never been interested in astronomy,” he said. “Not especially,” Tania replied. “Why?”

“The Pleiades is a star-cluster that's visible in the Northern Hemisphere,” Edric explained. “It lies between the constellations of Taurus and Aries.”

“Yes?” Tania was becoming impatient now. “And?”

“And it's also known as the
Seven Sisters
,” Edric said.

A thrill like a buzz of electricity tingled through Tania's body. Seven sisters—and Titania had seven daughters.

“It can't be a coincidence,” she said breathlessly, her fingers gripping Edric's hand. “Which way?”

Edric pointed across the courtyard. “They're in unit five, over there.”

Water splashed underfoot as they ran to the steel-and-glass door.

They stepped side-by-side into a lofty reception area. There was a high-fronted curved desk in front of them and a seating area to one side. On the wall behind the desk, a huge tapestry hung behind glass.

Tania stopped in her tracks, staring up at the tapestry. It looked extremely old and its colors were faded, but the image was still perfectly clear. It depicted a vast tree with wide-spreading branches filled with a sea of green leaves, and in hollow spaces among the leaves, as though they were perching there and peering out, were the faces of a whole host of animals.

There were lion and tiger and monkey faces in the tree, but there were also bears and horses and elephants and gazelles, otters and dogs and cats, goats and pigs and crocodiles. And among this collection of
familiar animals Tania saw the heads of far more fantastic beasts: unicorns and griffins and basilisks—and at the very top of the tree, a dragon with open jaws and a long, curling forked tongue.

Faerie beasts!

She was still standing there when a blond head appeared over the high edge of the desk. “Hello there. Welcome to the Pleiades Legal Group. How may I help you?”

Tania and Edric approached the desk.

The receptionist was sitting at a lower desk behind the high front. She was smartly dressed, with fashionable rimless glasses and shining blond hair.

“I know this is going to sound stupid,” Tania said, leaning over the counter. “But is there a woman working here who looks like me?”

“Soaking wet, you mean?” asked the receptionist brightly, then she smiled. “No, sorry, I was just kidding.”

“Her hair is a really vivid red when it isn't wet,” Edric said. “Long flaming red curls.”

The receptionist looked closely into Tania's face. “Oh!” she said, her eyes widening. “Yes! I didn't…well…with the wet…But yes, if your hair wasn't wet, you'd look a lot like Ms. Mariner.” The eyes grew even wider. “It's quite amazing, actually.”

“Who is Ms. Mariner?” Edric asked.

“She's our managing director.”

Tania was vaguely aware of someone descending a flight of stairs that angled down behind the reception
area. “Carol?” a man called. “Are these my twelve o'clock?”

“No, Mr. Mervyn,” the receptionist replied. “They're asking about Ms. Mariner.”

There was a brisk rap of shoes and a middle-aged man in a blue suit appeared beside the reception desk. He studied Tania and Edric, his gaze lingering first on their wet hair and then down to the slowly spreading pool of water that was gathering at their feet.

“I'm George Mervyn,” he said. “Senior partner, corporate law. Can I be of assistance?”

“My name is Tania Palmer. It's really important that I speak to Ms. Mariner, please.”

“I'm afraid Lilith Mariner isn't in the office today,” Mr. Mervyn said.

“When will she be back?” Edric asked.

“Not for several days. She's on business in Beijing. Could I inquire as to the purpose of your visit?”

“It's a personal matter,” Tania said. “It's very important that I make contact with her. Do you have a phone number I could use?”

Mr. Mervyn raised an eyebrow. “I'm afraid it's not our policy to hand out telephone numbers to people,” he said. “If you'd care to leave your details with Carol here—your names and a contact telephone number—then I'm sure she'll arrange for them to be passed to Ms. Mariner when she returns.”

“Please, listen to me,” Tania said. “You don't have to give us her number, but just call her and tell her that Tania Palmer needs to speak to her. She
will
understand, and she will want to speak to me, trust me. She will.”

“Ms. Mariner is an extremely busy person,” Mr. Mervyn said. “I would need some very compelling reason to disturb her.”

“I'm her daughter,” Tania blurted out.

Mr Mervyn's eyes narrowed and his jawline hardened. “That is absolute nonsense,” he said, and now his voice was ice cold. “How old are you? Seventeen? Eighteen? I've worked with Lilith Mariner for twenty years and it is quite impossible for her to have a teenaged daughter! Now then, whatever your intentions are, I recommend you leave these premises immediately.”

“I'm not
lying
to you! I—” Tania's words were cut off short as Edric's hand came down on her arm. He pulled her away from the reception desk and towed her across to the doors.

A moment later she found herself standing in the drizzling rain seething with frustration.

“Did he think I was just making it up?” Tania exploded.

“Yes, I think he probably did,” Edric said. “Let's find somewhere to sit down out of the rain and cool off.” He released her arm. “Come on. I saw an internet café on the way here. We'll go there and decide what to do next.”

 

They were seated at a window table in the internet café. Edric had logged on and was busy tapping at the
keyboard. Tania sat perched on the high stool, her elbows on the table and a frothing mug of cappuccino warming her cold hands.

“Lilith Mariner is Titania,” she said. “She has to be.”

“Yes, I think so,” Edric agreed, looking intently at the computer screen. “The name would make sense. Oberon is known as the Sun King and Titania was the Moon Queen, and Lilith is a name that is often given to the moon. There's a children's rhyme: ‘By Lilith's sombre light, I wandered through the night, till came the blessed sun, another day begun.' I don't remember the rest of it, but the point is that Lilith was the moon.”

“And Mariner?”

“The Queen always loved the sea,” Edric said. “Sailor—seafarer—mariner. I can see why she might choose a name like that.” He tapped the keyboard. “Aha!”

“What?”

“Take a look at this. I've found the Pleiades Legal Group's website.”

Tania leaned close. The home page was dark blue with seven white stars. As Edric ran the cursor over the stars, words came and went.

ABOUT US
.
SITE MAP. FAQS. NEWS. LEGAL DIVISIONS. MANAGEMENT STRUCTURE. POLICY AND SUPPORT
.

Edric clicked on
MANAGEMENT STRUCTURE
.

A new page came up.

“Oh…my…lord…” Tania whispered.

The page showed photo portraits of four people. A large one at the top of the page, and three smaller pictures beneath, one of which was of George Mervyn.

But it was the top picture that held Tania's breathless attention.

The heart-shaped face that looked out at her was of a woman who could have been in her midthirties, a beautiful woman with no lines or wrinkles or other signs of aging on her flawless white skin, and no hint of gray in the flaming red curls that tumbled onto the shoulders of her dark green jacket. Tania saw the familiar high, slanted cheekbones and the full-lipped mouth. And there, gazing serenely out at her, were those smoky green, gold-flecked eyes—the same eyes that Tania saw every day when she looked into the mirror.