The Enchanted Quest by Frewin Jones

Author:Frewin Jones
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi

Part Three:

The Dark Arts

Chapter Eighteen

Tania stared at Edric. Unable to draw breath. Stunned beyond thought.

“Captain Chanticleer of Weir!” Rathina spat, spinning to aim the iron sword at Edric. “I should have known it was the stink of Dark Arts that fouled the air!”

Edric turned to her. “Greetings, my lady Rathina,” he said smoothly. “Wouldst thou kil me? That were scant courtesy from a long-awaited guest. I fear our hosts would take it amiss.”

Rathina hissed, her expression venomous. “It was you I sensed out on the ocean—the peril that haunted us. You from the start!”

“I am not your enemy, my lady,” Edric said, his voice firm and clear. “Put down your sword; none here wish you harm.”

“Yeah, right!” came Connor’s voice. “You chased us al the way from Weir just to say hi, I suppose?” Edric’s eyes turned to him. “Stil with us, Connor?” he said. “I’d have thought you long gone, your tail between your legs and whimpering for home.”

Connor’s voice was clipped but steady. “Yup, stil here,” he replied lightly, but there was a cold glint in his eyes.

It took Tania every shred of self-control to find the strength to hold Edric’s eyes and to speak to him. Even then such a void of misery ached inside her that she could hardly bear to look at him.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was strained.

“How did you avoid getting caught by the Gildensleep?” The noise from the banqueting room had lessened, and Tania was aware that many eyes were fixed on them—not least the lord and lady, staring from one to the other in silent consternation.

“Such questions wil be answered to your satisfaction, Tania,” Edric said. “But for now may we not defer to the kindness of our good hosts and join the banquet? We wil have ample time to speak together over the course of the evening.”

“Stop it!” Tania shouted, her whole body contracting in a spasm of hurt and denial. “Stop talking like that!” She could feel her face burning. “Why are you talking to me like that?” It was more than she could stand. He had never used that Faerie formality with her before—they had always spoken to one another in normal English. It had been one of the bonds that held them together—the way they could step away from al the stiff procedure and ceremony of Faerie and just be themselves.

Themselves? And what did that mean?

Herself: a half-Faerie, half-Mortal split to the heart by the contradictions of her two lives. And Edric? Who was he now? Not the boy she had met in school, that was certain.

Evan Thomas was long gone and in his place was this Captain of Weir—who stil looked like the person she loved but who stood aloof from her and spoke like a polite stranger.

A flash of concern came into his face and he stepped toward her, his hands lifting as though to embrace her.

“Stand back!” growled Rathina, the blade hovering at his breastbone.

“Don’t be so stupid!” Edric said fiercely. “Do

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