‘Come with me,’ said Linden. ‘I’ll take you to see Bluebell.’
Bluebell. She had heard that name earlier. ‘Who is that?’ asked Rhosmari.
‘She’s our Chief Housekeeper.’ Linden led the way down the staircase. ‘She’ll find you a place to stay.’
‘Was she at the council?’
‘Bluebell? Goodness, no.’ Linden gave a rueful laugh. ‘She never wants anything to do with politics nowadays. Why do you ask?’
‘Only that Wink said she wished Mallow could be more like her. I wondered what she meant.’
‘Oh, that,’ Linden said. ‘Well, it’s a bit complicated, but Bluebell used to be Queen Amaryllis’s attendant. And she could be a little haughty about it at times, but no one thought much of that…until Amaryllis died. Then it turned out that Bluebell believed she was the rightful heir to the throne. Can you imagine?’
‘Well…perhaps I can,’ said Rhosmari. ‘It might not be the way things are done in the Oak, but there is an old tradition that the faery queen’s heir should serve as one of her attendants. Could Bluebell have been thinking of that?’
‘I think it was mostly Mallow who talked her into believing it,’ said Linden. ‘But in any case it was all very unpleasant for a while, with Mallow and Bluebell trying to convince everyone that Valerian had tricked Queen Amaryllis into choosing her, and that she wasn’t fit to hold the throne anyway because she was half human. Fortunately, most of the Oakenfolk were sensible enough to see that Valerian was a much better leader. And when Rob and Garan came to the Oak with their followers, they both recognised Valerian as Queen straightaway and paid no attention to Bluebell at all. So nothing came of that.’
Except for Mallow continuing to challenge the new Queen’s policies at every turn, apparently. After seeing how she had behaved at the council, Rhosmari had to wonder at Valerian’s patience with her.
‘But afterwards,’ Linden went on, ‘Bluebell was so humiliated that she locked herself in her room for three days, and then she came out and apologised. And she’s been loyal to Queen Valerian ever since… Here we are.’ She turned off the stair onto a walkway, which led them across to a landing ringed with doors. Walking up to the third door on the left, she rapped and called, ‘Bluebell, are you there?’
They waited, but no answer came. Linden was just about to knock again when Garan spoke up behind them: ‘Rhosmari?’
Surprised, she turned and saw him coming along the walkway towards her. His manner was formal, his expression as sober as she had ever seen it.
‘I need to speak with you in private,’ he said. ‘Perhaps we should go outside.’
The sky over the Oakenwyld was untroubled by cloud, and the breeze that blew across the garden was mild. But as Garan led Rhosmari out onto the grass, she sensed something ominous in the air. It was a feeling that had been creeping up on her ever since she delivered her report to the council, and it had grown along with her body when she and Garan left the Oak and changed back to their customary size. And when he turned to her and she saw the pity in his face, her heart skipped a beat.
‘What is it?’ she asked.
He reached for her hand, which did nothing to reassure her. ‘Rhosmari,’ he said, ‘you cannot go back to the Gwerdonnau Llion.’
‘What?’ She stared at him. ‘What do you mean, cannot?’
‘You are the Empress’s only hope of reaching the Green Isles. And now that she has set her heart on conquering the Children of Rhys, she will do whatever it takes to recapture you. Do you really believe that you can leave the Oak and set out on your own, and have even the slightest chance of reaching Wales in safety?’
‘I could Leap—’
‘Martin knows every place where you have set foot,’ Garan said. ‘As does the Empress herself. If you had ten times the power, then perhaps you could Leap all the way from here to St David’s at this very moment, before she has a chance to send any of her people there. But the furthest you can Leap from here is Waverley Hall, and from there you could not even reach Cardiff by magic, let alone the Green Isles.’
He took her other hand in his own, his voice lowering to earnestness. ‘We did not make this decision lightly, Rhosmari. It grieves my heart to think of you having to remain here against your will. But we cannot afford to lose you to the Empress again. For all our sakes, we dare not even take the risk.’
Rhosmari snatched her hands away. ‘So you plan to make me your prisoner,’ she said in a shaky voice. ‘Trap me here in the Oak while you wait for the Empress to attack, because you are too cowardly to let me go – and when she does attack, and she defeats you, she will capture me anyway. And then the Green Isles will fall to her, without hope and without warning, and it will be your fault.’
‘It is not cowardice, Rhosmari.’ Garan spoke quietly, but there was no apology in his tone. ‘To give you safe conduct, we would have to send our whole army with you and leave the Oak defenceless – and even then we could not be sure of protecting you from the Empress. Keeping you here is the best chance we have.’
Rhosmari put her hands to her temples. She felt as though the ground had given way beneath her and left her tumbling through a dark void, helpless and alone. As Garan went on, his words seemed to be coming to her from miles away:
‘Do you think that knowing the Green Isles are in danger gives me any pleasure? If I knew any way to warn our people against the Empress, I would. But we have no means of communicating with the Elders at this distance. And even if we did, I fear they would not listen.’
No enemy can hurt us here. She had said that to her students at the House of Learning, believing it was true. And then she herself had made it into a lie, and now Garan was telling her there was no way to undo it.
‘I am sorry, Rhosmari,’ he said. ‘I never wanted to have to tell you this. Until the council, I thought you understood it already. I even thought…’ He stopped. ‘Well. This is not the time.’
She raised her head, eyes burning but dry. ‘Not the time for what?’
‘When I heard you had come all this way to find me,’ he said, ‘I thought perhaps you were giving me a chance to make amends. I wronged you, Rhosmari, and I know you were disappointed, when I asked to break off our betrothal.’ He moved closer, his sea-green gaze holding hers. ‘I want you to know that if it brings you any comfort, if in any way it could make all that you have suffered a little easier, I am willing to fulfil the vows I made to you, and make you my wife.’
She was startled. ‘You mean…now?’
‘Well, not right away,’ Garan replied, a little uncomfortably. ‘You are only sixteen, after all. But in two or three years’ time, if we are still alive…’
Rhosmari let out a disbelieving laugh. ‘And what would be the use of that? You don’t love me. You told me as much, before you went away.’
‘Does that matter to you?’ He gave her a puzzled look. ‘I didn’t think you cared how either of us felt, so long as we could live peacefully together.’
Her fingers crept to her wrist, where Martin’s fingers had bruised her and Timothy’s rings had burned. Both of them had hurt her, but one had been trying to keep her prisoner, while the other had been trying to set her free.
‘Yes,’ she told him quietly. ‘It matters.’
Rhosmari sat at the foot of the Oak, hugging her knees as she gazed wearily across the lawn. Hedges rose on either side of the garden, blending into an old stone wall closer to the house, and in front of her stood the house itself, blocking out the sun and the sky.
The Oakenwyld was even smaller than Waverley Hall had been. And yet this was about to become her whole world.
Garan had told her she would be safe in the garden, for it and the neighbouring fields were under constant watch and ward, and the Empress’s servants could not approach from any direction without being seen. But he had still tried to coax her back inside the tree with him, so that Bluebell could show her to a room – and Rhosmari was not ready for that. Not when it might be weeks or month
s, perhaps even years, before she returned to her homeland again.
She tore a handful of grass out of the lawn and scattered it to the wind, watching the blades flutter and spiral away. No wonder everyone at the council had looked uncomfortable when she spoke of going back to the Green Isles. No wonder Timothy had felt sorry for her, and—
Wait. What had he offered her, exactly? If you need anything, or if you just…want to get away from the Oak…
He had known what Garan was going to tell her. Could he have meant those words more literally than she realised? After all, he had told her himself that he knew what it was like to be alone in a strange country, and longing for home.
Rhosmari got slowly to her feet, eyes fixed on the house. She could not go there right now, at least not discreetly. But later tonight, when everyone was asleep…
Yes. She would do it. If Timothy understood – really understood – how she felt, then he would want to help her. And since he was human, and creative by nature, he might well be able to think of a way to get her safely to the Green Isles even though all the faeries in the Oak could not.
Just thinking about it eased the ache in her chest a little. Hope renewed, Rhosmari made herself small again, and climbed back down the root ladder into the Oak.
‘Have you seen Bluebell?’ Rhosmari asked a passing rebel on her way in, but he shook his head. She went back to the Spiral Stair and met three more faeries coming down, but they couldn’t help her either. Rhosmari climbed all the way up to Bluebell’s door and knocked again, but there was still no answer, so at last she gave up and followed the rest of the faeries down to dinner.
She had forced herself to finish her mug of hot chicory despite its bitterness, and was scraping the last bit of mashed roots from her plate when Holly, one of the faeries she had met on the stair, stopped by her table. ‘Are you still looking for Bluebell?’ she asked. ‘Because I saw her pass by the dining hall just a little while ago.’
She paused with a meaningful look, and belatedly Rhosmari realised that the other faery was waiting for her to bargain. Linden had spoken to her so freely, she had forgotten that the other faeries might be a little less charitable about giving out information.
‘I have nothing to offer you at present,’ Rhosmari replied, choosing her words carefully. ‘But if there is something I can do for you at a later time, I will be glad to hear of it.’
Holly sighed. ‘Oh, very well. I saw Bluebell going down the East Root corridor. Probably to one of the storerooms. If you hurry, you might still catch her.’
‘I appreciate your help,’ said Rhosmari. Hurriedly she pushed her cup and plate aside, and set off to find Bluebell.
As she headed away from the core of the Oak the air in the passage grew damp and earthy-smelling, the ceiling webbed with thin roots. The lamps flickered wanly, giving off more shadows than light. The old fear of closed-in places crept up on her, and she was just about to turn back when she heard someone talking.
‘…should never have come here. I have nothing to discuss with you. I don’t even want to be seen with you any more.’
The female faery’s tone was high-pitched and a little lofty, but it also sounded fearful. It came from behind a closed door to Rhosmari’s right, and her first impulse was to go in. She reached for the handle.
‘You’re being ridiculous,’ said a flat voice, and Rhosmari jerked her hand back. ‘All I’m asking is for you to stop fussing and listen. Haven’t I always looked out for you? I wouldn’t bring this up if I didn’t think it was worth your while.’
‘I’ve already told you I’m not interested. Now let me go.’
‘You’re not going anywhere until I’m done,’ retorted Mallow. ‘Don’t you care what Valerian’s doing to us? It’s not just a matter of bringing more faeries to the Oak or getting our magic back, not any more. She’s going to force us all to fight the Empress, and like as not get us all killed, just so we can protect her precious pet humans.’
‘That’s her right. She’s the Queen.’
‘Queen of the Oak, maybe, and there’s nothing much we can do about that. But I was at the council this afternoon, and I heard Garan say that he and his men found an old Wyld not far from here, just waiting to be fixed up and resettled. Why should we stay here and wait for the Empress to kill us, when we could strike out on our own and make peace with her? I know a good few Oakenfolk, and some of the rebels too, who don’t much care for Valerian’s human-loving ways. We could start a whole new colony, Bluebell – and you could be our ruler. Think about it—’
‘No, I will not!’ Bluebell’s voice rose so sharply that Rhosmari flinched. ‘I don’t want to rule some dried-up old elm tree in the middle of a swamp. I’ve lived in the Oak all my life and I don’t want to go anywhere else, and I’ve already told you I want nothing more to do with you. So leave me alone, or I’ll— I’ll—’
‘Or what?’ asked Mallow, with menacing softness. ‘You’ll tell Valerian? Is that how weak you’ve become? She’s nothing compared to Queen Amaryllis, and you of all people know it. I can’t believe it doesn’t sicken you every day to go creeping around the Oak obeying her orders, when you should be the one giving them.’
Rhosmari had heard enough. She put her hand firmly on the latch, and pushed the door open.
fourteen
Bluebell was a small faery compared to Mallow, with hair coiled regally atop her head and a high-waisted gown falling in gauzy layers to her feet. At the sight of Rhosmari, her cheeks turned white as sea foam. But Mallow only glared at her and said, ‘Do you mind? We’re busy.’
‘No, Mallow,’ Bluebell said tremulously before Rhosmari could answer. ‘You and I are done.’ Gathering up her skirts, she swept past the other faery and out into the corridor, tossing back over her shoulder, ‘And don’t ever talk to me again.’
Rhosmari could think of nothing to add to that. She held Mallow’s insolent stare a moment, then followed Bluebell back out into the passage.
‘I’m sorry to have startled you,’ she said as she caught up with the Chief Housekeeper, ‘but Linden told me I should talk to you about getting a room?’
Bluebell turned to her, looking distracted. ‘Oh, I see,’ she said. ‘Yes, of course. Let me just check my ledger first.’
She left Rhosmari waiting on the second landing of the stair, and returned a few minutes later with a ring of ancient-looking metal keys. Unlocking a door, she showed her into a tiny room with only one window. The only furniture in it was a narrow bed that sagged visibly in the middle, and the air was thick with dust.
‘I’m afraid this is the best I can do,’ Bluebell said. ‘I’ll have it cleaned, of course.’
‘It’s all right,’ said Rhosmari. She did not care much for luxuries, and if all went well she would not be spending long here anyway. But as Bluebell turned to go she added, ‘I don’t mean to intrude. But I couldn’t help hearing what Mallow said to you.’
‘Is that so?’ the other faery asked with a little sniff, and all at once Rhosmari could see the haughtiness Linden had spoken of – the spark of pride that had once made Bluebell think herself fit to be Queen. ‘Well, it’s all empty talk and bluster. Nothing will come of it. Not now that Mallow knows I want nothing to do with her and her schemes.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ said Rhosmari. After all, even if she did not feel very kindly towards the Oak and its people right now, she did not want to see them vulnerable to the Empress. ‘But it sounds as though you’re not the first person Mallow has talked to about this. If she succeeds in convincing even a few other faeries to leave the Oak, that will put all the rest in danger. And if the Queen finds out that we knew what Mallow was planning, and said nothing…’
Bluebell’s eyes widened. ‘You mean…she will think that I was protecting Mallow? That I am as disloyal as she is?’ She pulled her shawl tighter about her shoulders, as though the idea chilled her. ‘I see now. You’re right. I must go and talk to Valerian at once. Will you come with me? I don’t want there to b
e any doubt that I’m telling the truth.’
Her haughty air had vanished; she looked anxious now, and Rhosmari felt sorry for her.
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I’ll be glad to come.’
Rhosmari stood by the window in her lonely room, watching the half moon sail through waves of cloud and listening to the sounds of the night. Earlier that evening she and Bluebell had gone up to see Queen Valerian, who had given her full attention to hearing their story. Afterwards she had questioned them both for some time, drawing out every detail, before expressing her gratitude and letting them go. And though the Queen had not said how she intended to deal with the situation, Rhosmari could tell that she was deeply troubled by Mallow’s behaviour, and would not allow her to continue spreading treachery for long.
Knowing that she had done something to help the Oak made Rhosmari feel a little better, but not enough to make her happy with the thought of being trapped here indefinitely. She waited until the great tree had gone quiet and only the occasional murmur echoed in the corridor outside her room; then she focused her thoughts on the humans’ house, and Leaped.
Without Timothy’s invitation, she could never have got further than the veranda. But she landed easily just inside the glass door, and from there it was not difficult to pick her way through the darkened sitting room and down the corridor.
Murmurs came from behind a closed door to her left, and she paused, listening. One male voice, one female: that must be Paul and Peri. So Timothy’s room had to be upstairs. But across from the foot of the staircase stood a pair of glass doors, with light still glowing faintly through them – and when she glanced inside there was Timothy, seated at a desk with his eyes on a luminous screen. Gathering courage, Rhosmari tapped on the glass.
Timothy spun around in his chair. ‘Rhosmari?’ he said incredulously, and got up to let her in.
‘I needed to talk to you,’ she said. ‘I hope it’s not too late.’
‘No, it’s not.’ He waited for her to sit down on the sofa before climbing back into his own seat, one foot casually hooked behind the other knee. ‘So what’s going on?’