to be strong enough to cover the entire Realm, it will need the power of all the children of Aurealis. Alas, Cordelia is too ill to aid us, but we cannot do this without you and Rathina.”
“You mean you want us to go back to Veraglad?” asked Tania. “But what about the Divine Harper?”
“No, your quest is vital; you must not turn from it,” said Titania. “We can link ourselves with your spirits from afar, Tania, if you are willing.”
“Of course!” Tania exclaimed. “Whatever you need.”
“It will weaken you—you and your sister. It will drain you of strength. Not in a steady flow, but you will feel your power wax and wane as we call upon your spirits.”
“That’s fine; I can live with that,” said Tania. “And I don’t even have to ask Rathina! You know she’d do anything to make amends for . . . for . . .”
For causing so much suffering in the past. For loving Gabriel Drake and for letting him use her to harm Faerie. For setting the Sorcerer King free.
Tania gasped as a horrible realization dawned. She hadn’t known the awful truth until this moment— but the seeds of this plague were sown when Rathina loosed the Sorcerer King of Lyonesse from his amber prison. This was all Rathina’s fault! She must be tormented by it!
“I know what is in your mind, Tania,” said Titania. “It’s a fearful burden for your sister to bear, and it may be that the rest of her life will be spent in remorse. But do not cloud your own heart with thoughts of blame.”
“I don’t blame her,” Tania said bitterly. “I blame Gabriel Drake—and I blame the Dark Arts that made him into a monster.” She gripped the rim of the granite bowl till her knuckles were white. “But none of that matters now. I can’t change any of it, but I can try and put things right—and I can make sure that Rathina is at my side when I do it.”
“Well spoken,” said Titania, a gentle smile of pride touching her lips. “Seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, you do not know yet what power there is within you. But I fear that your quest will test you to your limits.”
“You do your part and we’ll do ours,” said Tania. She frowned as a thought struck her. “Will I be able to speak with you like this when I get to Alba?”
“No, that is not possible,” Titania replied. “But the bond between you and your sisters is strong; you may be able to forge links with their spirits and ask for their aid in need. But do not look for mystical help. What skills we have will be poured into the Gildensleep; there will be little left to offer.”
“I understand,” said Tania.
“We hope to raise the shield of Gildensleep tomorrow,” Titania said. “As soon as the sun fills the sky. Those it touches will fall into deep sleep. You must be away from Faerie by then, Tania, or you too will succumb to the dreamless slumber.”
“Then we’ll make sure we leave before dawn,” Tania said.
“That is good,” said Titania. “But one last word, my beloved child. I can give you little insight into the realms through which you must pass to reach the Divine Harper. But I can offer some advice to guide you in Alba. It is many centuries since I was a young woman in that fair land, but things may not have changed so very much. When you make landfall, seek out the home of my ancestors: the beautiful palace of Caiseal an Fenodree. Any traveler you meet upon the road will know of it, I am sure. It is a white palace set in an enchanted lake. There you will find both an ardent welcome and, hopefully, aid in your further travels. And use these words to ensure that you are greeted as friends. Speak the words ‘caraid clainne.’ Remember them, Tania.”
“Caraid clainne. I won’t forget.”
“I must go now. I sense that Eden has returned. We must foregather and brew the enchantments of Gildensleep. Farewell, Tania. The hopes of all the Realm go with you on your quest.” The image of the Queen began to fade as the gossamer light