The Enchanted Quest Read Online Free Page A

moment each could see clearly into the mind of the other. “If Oberon knew of the things you have learned, I would know them, too.”
    “I’m sorry . . . I thought . . .” Tania paused. “I don’t know what I thought. But . . . I feel like I’m being played , you know?” Tears burned behind her eyes. “Everything’s so horrible, Mother. . . . It’s too hard. I can’t do this on my own. I can’t.”
    She leaned over the cold stone, her tears falling into the water, spreading rings through which the compassionate face of her mother gazed.
    “You are not alone, Tania,” said Titania. “You are never alone, my darling child.”
    “So why do I feel like this?” Tania gasped, her face hot, tears burning as they scored their way down her cheeks.
    “Do not grieve, sweetheart.” Her mother’s voice was soft as feathers. “I know the hollow wound that gapes in your heart—but you have not lost him entirely. Trust me, you have not.”
    Titania’s words allowed Tania to open up to her grief. Edric was gone. Her love. The one constant in the madness of the past months. She leaned over the water, her hair hanging, her shoulders rising and falling as violent sobs wracked her body. She could not speak: The pain in her chest was so intense that she could hardly even breathe. She felt ripped open, heart, spirit, and soul.
    She had no idea how long her torment lasted, but as her weeping finally abated, she heard a soothing voice from below her.
    “Do not surrender entirely to grief, my child,” Titania said. “Tomorrow is a glad new day! A clear path lies ahead of you, and who can say what wonders you will find at journey’s end?”
    Gathering herself, Tania lifted her head, wiping her sleeve across her face. The solace of the Queen’s words filled her with new resolve. She was prepared now to face whatever the quest held in store. And perhaps her Faerie mother was right: Perhaps she would find wonders waiting for her on distant shores.

Chapter Three
    Tania arched her back, pulling strands of hair off her cheeks, feeling cool air on her burning skin. She knuckled her eyes then ran her hands down her face. She no longer felt disabled by her burdens. She could carry on. She could do her duty.
    “How is the King?” she asked, gazing down into her mother’s face.
    “The King is weary, Tania,” Titania replied. “As are we all. The strain of keeping the plague victims in the balm of Gildensleep is draining his strength.”
    The Gildensleep was a mystical cocoon of spun golden light within which those folk suffering from the plague could be held in peaceful stasis—fending off death for a while—sleeping in gentle oblivion. But King Oberon paid a heavy price for creating and maintaining the glimmering cocoons; only while he denied himself sleep could the Gildensleep cocoons exist. Tania had lost track of how many hours—how many days the King of Faerie had forced himself to remain awake.
    “But there is good news,” Titania continued. “Eden has worked hard and swiftly to bring the Gildensleep to all those who ail, and now we believe we have a way of making all of Faerie safe—for a while, at least.”
    “A cure?” breathed Tania, hope igniting that she would not need to embark on the quest the Dream Weaver had demanded of her. “Have you found a cure?”
    “No, alas that is beyond us,” said the Queen. “But we are gathering all those of the House of Aurealis into the Throne Room with the King. The Earl Marshal Cornelius, your uncle, is there and the Marchioness Lucina and their sons Titus and Corin. Hopie and Sancha are also with us, and soon Eden will return. When all are gathered, we will unite our powers to put the Realm of Faerie under a single cloak of Gildensleep. From Leiderdale in the south to Fidach Ren in the far north—all our people shall be protected.”
    A flicker of uncertainty showed in Titania’s eyes. “At least that is our hope. But, heed me, Tania. If the cloak of Gildensleep is