A Fly In Amber
By Laura Schiller
Based on: The Faerie Path series
Copyright: Frewin Jones
He would go mad in here.
Edric had never really asked himself whether he was brave, but now he knew he wasn't. He had screamed at the sight of the smoking, gleaming, oily sphere in his master's fingers. He had failed to protect his love. He was a coward, and he was going to spend the rest of his immortal existence with his own worthlessness staring him in the face.
How long would it take until he cracked? Until his reason, his memories – the only things he had left in the world – began to disintegrate under the crushing weight of his imprisonment? He could not tell. No daylight ever found its way into this cursed place; already he had lost track of time. Had he been in here for hours, minutes? Days?
He was trapped in amber like an insect; if nothing else, the sheer isolation of it would break him. Nothing to touch, smell, hear...only his sight worked, and that was a curse more than a blessing. He could see another Amber Prison in front of him, coated in filth, the hunched and twisted figure of the prisoner still visible inside. The man's face was gaunt as a corpse's; his eyes were narrow slits of red. The look of mingled horror and malice was too much to bear, but frozen as he was, Edric could not look away.
Frantically, he clung to memories. He had to escape from here – if not in body, then with his mind. Perhaps insanity would not be so bad after all; he had been told that its victims are unaware of their plight.
The faint hope that sparked in his heart was ruthlessly crushed. Even if Tania did come to rescue him – which her wicked bridegroom would certainly not allow – she could not do it. There simply was no power capable of breaking an Amber Prison.
He unfocused his eyes and drew back into the confined of his own mind. The mortals had a saying that when you die, your whole life will flash before your eyes. But since he was already dead in a way, he would have all eternity to watch the show.
()
Sunlight glittered like jewels on the waterfall of Reganfal, making tiny rainbows grow in the air. A salmon leaped into the air, flashing pink, and fell back into the water with a splash.
"Catch me, Eddie!" called a childish voice, belonging to Edric's foster-brother Gabriel. He was six, Gabriel was eight, and they whooped and shrieked like wild things as they tore about on the river's grassy banks. Lady Rianna, Gabriel's mother and Edric's foster-mother, laughed with a sound like crystal chimes from her seat on a picnic blanket.
"Come back, children!" she called. "We have made merry long enough. We must return."
Gabriel ran up to her and gazed at her with huge, appealing silver eyes.
"Please, Mother," he coaxed. "'Tis such a beautiful day. History and mathematics can wait, but tomorrow the sun may be gone. I wish to play with you and Eddie. Please let us stay."
The lady shook her head and smiled ruefully. "Ah, child," she said. "With such eyes and such pleading, you could charm the very birds from the trees. And what of you, little silent one?" she teased, turning to Edric. "Do you also wish to stay longer?"
"Yes, please, Mother," he said shyly.
"Very well." She kissed Gabriel on the cheek and blew a kiss to Edric as well.
"Thank you!" they chorused.
Edric tapped the older boy on the shoulder. "Catch me!" he called, darting away.
Looking back once, he saw Lady Rianna watching – her silver eyes, as bright as her son's a moment ago, darkened to storm-cloud grey. He almost ran back and asked her what troubled her, but then Gabriel tackled him from behind and they fell to the ground, wrestling like puppies, everything forgotten but their game.
()
Her death was a mystery. Some said she was stabbed by a wild unicorn while on a hunting party with her husband, Duke Aldritch. Others said the Duke had killed her in a fit of rage. Still others claimed she had committed suicide. The two boys never knew the truth.
Her tomb in the chapel of Castle Weir was made of black marble, and in front of it stood a statue of the same material. The statue was beautiful and imposing, wearing an ornate, flowing gown and standing with its head held high, but Edric could find no trace of the warm-hearted lady he had loved in that cold, unsmiling marble face.
Gabriel, standing next to him, wore a look the younger boy could not identify – pale, tight-lipped, eyes glittering.
"Do you recall the song she used to sing?" he said, his voice echoing harshly among the stones. "Ride swift for home and hearth, my child, for the unicorns are at your heel...you are safe now, my child, for the present, you are safe...She said she would never leave me. She spoke false."
At that moment, the door fell open with a long shrill creak and a shadow fell into the chapel – the shadow of the Duke. Edric had always been slightly afraid of him, but now he froze in his tracks just from looking at that harsh, craggy, white-haired face with the eyes like scorch marks in a blanket.
"Gabriel," he said, in a voice like the low rumble of thunder. "Come away."
"Father!" Gabriel ran to bury his head in the lining of his father's ermine cloak, but the lord pushed him away.
"Cease," he said. "You have ten summers, boy. You will be a man soon. Men do not weep."
"But Edric does," Gabriel pointed out – truly, for Edric's eyes were swimming with tears and he had to blink them away in order to see clearly.
"Edric is but a servant," Aldritch sneered. "The offspring of filthy peasants who sold him to me for a handful of gems. Weakness is only to be expected from such as he. Mark me, brat," fixing Edric with a scorching stare. "The Duchess is no longer there to make a pet of you. From now on, you will earn your keep. My son is not your brother, but your master. You will address him as 'my lord' and do as he commands."
Edric reeled back as if he had been slapped. "Yes, my lord," was all he could manage to say.
()
"With all due respect, my lord, I do not understand." Edric clasped his hands behind his back and stood up straight to hide his nervousness. "Why Princess Tania? The political advantage would be no les were you to wed one of the other sisters. Also, you have stated your lack of...emotional involvement with her. So, if I may ask, why have you chosen her above all others?"
Gabriel's eyes gleamed like moons in the dreary twilight of his study in Castle Weir. "Why, indeed. I have one word of explanation: Isenmort."
Edric suppressed a shudder. "Are you referring to the...prophecy, my lord?"
"Verily. 'One alone will walk both worlds, daughter last of daughters seven'...the man who wins the hand of Princess Tania shall gain a power beyond imagining. The power to wield the most deadly bane in Faerie without harm, to overthrow King Oberon himself!" He thumped his fist on the ebony table, making a flagon of wine shiver nearby.
"That were treason, my lord!" Edric snapped, unable to control his shock and anger. "How can you even speak of - "
"Silence!"
Gabriel's palm snapped out in front of him with such force that Edric's sentence died in his throat. The young lord moved closer to his servant, radiating a cold, quiet rage, until they stood nose to nose in the shadows.
"I am a son of the noble house of Weir," Gabriel hissed through his teeth. "It is not for you, a servant, to question any of my deeds. Should you even attempt to betray me to Oberon, I will ensure that you regret it."
Beneath the velvet tone of his voice was an edge of deadly steel. He was the very incarnation of Isenmort, Edric thought; no wonder he was so attracted to it.
Suddenly those silver eyes softened; Gabriel took a step back and gently touched Edric's shoulder.
"Besides," Gabriel continued. "I need you, Edric. You are faithful and keen of wit; I trust you beyond any man I know. You swore an oath of fealty to me, remember ... honorable as you are, surely you would not break it now. Come now...Eddie. Do you stand by me?"
The old nickname sent a stab of fierce nostalgia and desperate hope into Edric's heart. Gabriel remembered.
Perhaps this was his chance. Perhaps by proving his loyalty, proving to Gabriel that in his harsh, restricted, love-starved environment there was still one person who cared, Edric could reach the last traces of that little boy who used to play by the waterfall.
He swept into a deep bow. "Your eternal servant, my lord."
()
Edric smoothed down the plain white shirt and trousers, which Lord Gabriel had enchanted to look like mortal clothing, as if trying to smooth his ruffled nerves. This Hampton Court was so like, yet so unlike, the Faerie Palace in its glory days that it gave him a headache. The same beautiful, ornate buildings, the same garden maze, the same air of grandeur – but how small it was! And what a noise the mortals made in their scruffy clothes and backpacks, flashing blue-white light from the Isenmort boxes around their necks. He hoped he didn't look as terrified as he felt.
A burst of sunny laughter suddenly gave him pause. He looked over at the entrance to the maze.
He almost gasped out loud.
The girl who had laughed pushed her way through the metal turnstile, her coppery hair bouncing around her shoulders as she looked over at the girl behind her. She wore a light yellow sundress, white sandals, and a sparkling white headband in her hair.
"How about that?" she told her companion, still laughing. "Am I a genius or what? One try, that's all it took. Zzzt! Right through the maze."
Her speech was mortal, but her voice was sweet and clear as a running brook. She turned her face in Edric's direction – and he realized two things deep inside the marrow of his bones.
Firstly – she had to be Princess Tania. The fiery hair, heart-shaped face, high cheekbones and brilliant green eyes were like a mirror image of Queen Titania's memorial statue.
Secondly – this sparkling, sunny girl was the one he must befriend and betray.
()
Thinking of Tania jolted him back to the present. The last time he had seen Tania's face, it had been white with horror at the sight of him in the Amber Prison. Perhaps this, at last, had convinced her that he had told her the truth.
Looking back at his life, he couldn't bring himself to regret any of his decisions. If not for him, Tania would never have been reunited with her royal family; the Realm would still be bound in twilight. Knowing her, loving her, had been the sweetest, most glorious part of his life. And he had told her the truth about Gabriel; in this respect his conscience was clear.
What he could not understand was how. How had Gabriel become so cold, so ruthless in his ambition? How could any son of Lady Rianna manipulate a girl's emotions and force another into marriage? Had he no respect for the memory of his mother?
"She said she would never leave me...she spoke false."
Perhaps there, by the lady's tomb, the two playmates had first begun to drift apart. While Edric had treasured her memory and now honored all women for her sake, Gabriel had seen her death as a betrayal. Grief and anger, together with Lord Aldritch's haughty pride in his bloodline, had warped his mind until his need for attention turned into a lust for fear.
It was too late now, Edric thought. His brother had died long ago; what remained was his enemy, and the enemy of the Realm.
His only hope, the one he clung to with all his might, was that Tania had somehow escaped. Whatever happened to him, Tania must be safe. Perhaps she had found refuge in the Mortal World, with her mortal parents and friends. Perhaps she was even now having a barbecue in her backyard to celebrate her sixteenth birthday, joking with her friends, still a little shaken after her ordeal, but convincing herself again that it had all been a dream. The thought had a certain comfort for Edric. If she forgot him and the rest of the Faerie Realm, she would at least be safe and happy.
Tania...
()
Music pounding in his ears, half blinded by flashing strobe lights, holding on for dear life to Tania's hand, Edric pushed his way toward the nearest exit of the concert hall. How could she get so close to the stage? Couldn't she see the crowd was in danger of crushing her? They pushed the door open and barreled through, collapsing with relief once the roar of the music was slightly dimmed.
"I think you just saved my life!" said Tania breathlessly, stumbling into him and giving him a hug. Her orange-scented hair tickled his nose; he closed his eyes briefly and held her close, boundlessly relieved that she was safe, unhurt, and in his arms.
And in that moment, he admitted to himself what he had been denying for so long. He loved her – his friend, his princess, his Juliet. He could not bear to hand her over to Gabriel to be his property like Edric, his tool for world domination – the very idea was repugnant.
He wanted to hold her like this every day of his life.
He kissed her softly on the lips, vowing to himself to keep her safe, come what may.
She looked like a rose from the Royal Garden, opening, blooming. And deep inside those smoky green eyes of hers, he saw a miracle.
"You have gold dust in your eyes," he whispered.
()
And suddenly, to his utter disbelief, he saw those very green, gold-flecked eyes looking up at him.
A sick wave of panic shuddered through his body. His first hallucination – it had to be. Oh please, not yet. Not this.
Tania held an achingly bright lantern in one hand, an Isenmort blade in the other. She took a step forward and placed her hand on the amber sphere, close to Edric's face. Relief welled in her eyes like a tidal wave.
"I did it," she whispered.
She looked pale, exhausted and dirty; her hands were covered with cloth wrappings in order to hold the sword. These were details he could not have dreamed up. She was real ... the flesh-and-blood Princess Tania, come to rescue him.
"I found you," she said. "I knew I would."
The glance of her eyes were like sunshine on his skin. Gold dust.
But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? Tania...you will always be my sun.