CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Arawn? Her avatar’s father? After the initial shock wore off and Jade was able to close her mouth again, her first impulse was to deny it. Instead, she bit her lip to hold back the words. There was no reason to doubt him. How would a lie benefit him? She slid her eyes sideways to look at him. He gazed regally over the gathered Fair Folk below, apparently oblivious to the fact that he had just turned her life in this realm upside down.
She shook herself, struggling to keep a grasp on who and where she was. Oh! Jade straightened suddenly, gripping the arms of her chair in amazement. Arawn was the King. Did that make her a real Princess and these her subjects? She looked out over the Faery hall, finding it incredibly easy to imagine living here with these extraordinary people. Something in their languid, arrogant joy appealed to her. Their assurance of their own superiority made it easy to believe she would be safe here.
It would be so simple to walk away from all the unhappiness that stalked both her existences; so easy to live a life of luxury and freedom here in Alfheim with her own kind. Surely not even Zhudai could reach her here, in another realm. She could be safe, free, wanted, accepted.
Overwhelming excitement leapt in her heart only to be dashed a second later by the memory of Phoenix’s last, impatient words. She’s such a princess!
Defiance lifted her again. She might not be a real princess in the real world but here, it seemed, she was a princess; or, at least, the daughter of a king. She wasn’t sure if being the half-blood daughter of the Elven king made her a princess or not. Her emotions fluctuated as she tried to get her head around all the implications of this new development. How would Phoenix and the others react when they found out? Phoenix and Truda already resented her. What would happen if she were invited to stay here? Could she be happy? Jade looked at the king again, longing to know him better. His pale, alien beauty seemed strange.
A shaft of homesickness shot through her like a dagger. Oh, how she missed her real father; his gentle smile; his reassuring hugs. Then she remembered her mother’s constant criticism and her sisters’ merciless taunting and wasn’t sure what she wanted.
Arawn turned to her and asked a question. She answered hesitantly but was disarmed by his very real interest. Almost against her will, he led her into a conversation. Time flew and she barely remembered eating from a fabulous feast placed on her plate. Before she knew it, Arawn had skilfully drawn most of her digital history from her. She had the uncomfortable feeling he saw far more than she wanted. As she relaxed, Jade found it ever harder to keep her two lives separate. Several times, she almost referred to her real-world father and sisters. Often she had to steer the talk onto safer grounds – such as botany or magic. He knew a great deal about both of these and she found his knowledge as fascinating as he was.
When, as the evening drew to a close, Arawn finally did extend an invitation for her to stay as long as she liked in Alfheim, Jade gazed around at the exotic, brilliant, incredible, above all safe, Faery world and knew a very real, very deep desire to say ‘yes’. This was where she belonged.
Then Aurfanon made an amused comment about Truda’s childish antics. The girl was dancing with the dryads. Jade’s heart dropped. How could she even consider staying here? They had to get Truda home before her birthday. Ragnarok would destroy everything, Alfheim included. It wasn’t just her life she had to consider. It was everyone in this world, the other world, plus those of her trusting friends. Brynn, Phoenix and Marcus were still imprisoned in their rooms. They were probably worried and frightened, conscious of running out of time, while she wallowed in royal treatment. She was behaving exactly as Phoenix had complained: like she was better than they were.
Disgusted with herself, Jade pushed the plate away. The rich food now felt like lead in her stomach. Every moment she wasted here, pretending this was a life she could be part of, was a moment she kept Truda away from her duty; put this world in jeopardy and her friends lives in danger. She might be happy here but she had no right to force the others to stay. Even if Phoenix seemed to get a kick out of playing the game now, he’d eventually want to go home.
Reality was: she was responsible for getting her friends safely out of Alfheim and Truda to Asgard to prevent Ragnarok and the end of this world. Then she was responsible for helping Phoenix to progress through all the levels of the game so they could get home. This was not her real life at all, as much as she might wish it. Once the game was over, she would go home: back being nothing and nobody. She had finally found a place she belonged and she couldn’t stay. It wasn’t fair.
Something her real father often said came back to her. He always asked it when she complained about how her sisters treated her. She would run to him for sympathy. He would listen closely and give good advice when she needed it. In the end, though, when it all came down to that age old whinge about fairness, he would smile sadly and say, ‘Why do you expect life to be fair, Jade?’
He was right.
Life wasn’t fair or unfair – it just was. As he often said, it was how she reacted to things that made life good or bad.
Resolutely, Jade turned to her Elven father. She touched him on the arm to get his attention. Again those indigo eyes bored into her, dark with secret knowledge.
“You are troubled, daughter.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I have friends who need my help, my lord.” Her throat tightened on the words. “I’m on a difficult Quest and they need me. I don’t want to leave but I have to. We must return Truda to her father in two days or it will mean the coming of Ragnarok. They need my help.”
“Why do they need you? They are close. Can they not complete this quest without you?”
Jade shrugged. “It is more than just this quest. There are three more to complete after this. I can’t abandon them. I’m a Spellweaver.” She grimaced, remembering her recent mistakes. “Not a very good one, though. I need my herbs and the forests for strength. Without them I’m not very effective – but I’m all they’ve got.”
Arawn smiled slightly and sent her a knowing, sidelong look. “Your mother thought the same thing about herself. She was wrong, too. You underestimate yourself. You are capable of more than you realise.”
Before Jade could ask what he meant, Arawn bowed his head to her. “Nevertheless, I expected this. You will always be welcome here, daughter, but I understand the nature of duty.”
He stood with fluid grace and clapped his hands once. The music and chatter stopped. All heads turned toward the dais.
“Good my people.” Arawn spread his hands wide, and then swept one toward Jade. “My daughter is on a Quest. As your Lord, I ask you to spread the word to all our kindred to render her any and all assistance possible. Perhaps,” he smiled faintly down at her, “she may return safely to us one day.”
Jade stared at him, worried. When he sat again, she leaned over.
“You can’t ask your people to help me, sir! We’re fighting a warlock – Feng Zhudai. He hates the faery folk and will do anything to stop me. His people have weapons of iron that will be fatal to the Fair People.”
Arawn seemed indifferent. “We have helped the Bretons, the Svear and many others against invaders before. This will be no different.”
“But it will,” she pleaded, laying a daring hand on his shimmering sleeve. “Please. All we…I need is to get Truda to Asgard and back to her father, Thor. Then you must promise me you won’t let your people risk themselves for us…me.”
All at once, the King’s eyes were cold again. He drew his hand out from beneath hers. “You presume too much, daughter.” He held her abashed gaze for a moment longer before softening. “Jade, you are young. You undervalue yourself and overvalue me.” He touched her cheek, his fingers cool. “In memory of your mother, whom I loved, go with what help I can give you. Don’t argue.” He held up a warning finger when she opened her mouth. “We will a
rrange quick passage for you to Asgard.”
Jade was beset by mixed emotions: joy that he refused to abandon her; fear that she might never see him again; profound sadness that she had to leave.
Arawn saw and smiled gently. “Don’t distress yourself, child. Be strong. We will see each other again, I promise.” He drew her to her feet. “Take the godling child. It is time for you to sleep. Asgard can wait one more night.”