holding her skirts with one hand. The oarsman took her arm to steady her as a gulf of water opened between the boat and ship. But a moment later the sea nudged the boat forward again, and she was able to step easily onto the platform.
She clung to the rope with both hands as she felt herself being lifted. She gazed shoreward: Behind the shingle banks, the land rose in grassy dunes, and beyond them gray-brown hills rolled dimly away on the edge of sight. She saw that the ship was anchored in a wide bay with dark curving arms of land stretching out to either side. To the left, a black finger tipped the arc of the bay, capped with a tongue of flame, distant but jewel-bright on the dark horizon.
âGive me your hand, Princess.â She was at the level of the deck. A sailor was waiting for her, wearing a cream shirt and sky blue trousers tucked into high leather boots. Tania took his hand and stepped on board the ship.
A familiar voice rang out from the throng of Faerie folk who were gathered on the deck.
âWelcome! Welcome indeed, my daughter! This is a joy unlooked for.â King Oberon stepped forward and took her into his arms. He was dressed all in white, with diamonds sewn into the folds of his padded doublet and with a fine filigree of charcoal thread patterning the collar and cuffs. His white crown circled his forehead, holding back his long yellow hair, the crystal band inset with a ring of precious and rare black amber stones.
Tania gazed into his face with its close-cut golden beard and mustache and those deep-set piercing blue eyes. âHello,â she said, embracing him fondly. âItâs nice to be back.â
âAnd you have returned in perfect time for the Festival of the Travelerâs Moon,â the King said. âCome, tell us your news quickly, before we set sail for Logris.â
Clasping his hand, Tania looked around at the familiar faces that surrounded her on the deck. Her sister Hopie was there with her husband, Lord Brython, at her side, both of them clad in simple brown. Cordelia was there, too, her red-gold hair shorn about her shoulders and her face a mass of freckles. She held up one arm, a kestrel on her wrist. Sancha was at her side, dressed in her usual sable velvet, her clever brown eyes dancing in her smiling face.
âIâve got some good news,â Tania said, seeing the light of hope in Oberonâs eyes. âWe havenât actually found Titania yet, but Edric and I have spoken to someone who has met her. Or at least who met someone who looks exactly like her.â
âI had not looked for you to find the Queen so swiftly,â Oberon said.
âThe search isnât over yet,â Tania said. âBut weâll keep going, I promise. I couldnât have got this far without Edricâs help.â
âWhere is Master Chanticleer?â Sancha asked. âDid he not come with you?â
âWell, no,â Tania said. âI didnât really mean to come here myself, but I kind of got carried away.â
âAnd so shall we all, ere the night is much older!â said the King. He gave Tania a final loving look, then turned toward the high quarterdeck at the stern ofthe ship. âAdmiral Belial, all are aboard. Weigh anchor and let us be gone!â
The admiral was standing at the quarterdeck rail, tall and gaunt and wrapped in a navy blue cloak. He raised his hand and the decks sprang alive with sky-blue-clad sailors, swarming down ropes and running across the decks. Wide capstans turned slowly to the rhythm of whistles and tambourines. Voices called from mast to mast.
âIsnât Eden here?â Tania asked, looking around for her eldest sister. Zara also seemed to have disappeared.
âIndeed she is,â said Sancha. âShe is below decks preparing for the voyage. She will be with us soon.â
âCome to the forecastle,â Cordelia said. âEden and our father will be there
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