The Lost Queen

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shortly.”
    Tania made her way through the gathered courtiers. She saw the Earl and Countess of Gaidheal among them; they smiled and nodded to her as she passed. She climbed the stairway that led to the forecastle and walked forward along the narrowing deck. Sancha and Cordelia joined her as she stood at the rail, gazing out over the prow of the ship.
    â€œHow far is Logris?” she asked.
    â€œOh, many hours by water—but not so far by air,” Cordelia said with a mysterious smile. Tania was still wondering what she meant when her sister lifted her arm high into the air.
    â€œGo, Windfarer!” she called. “Lead the way!” The kestrel spread its wings and leaped from her arm. Itswooped low from the side of the ship. Tania leaned out, watching as the bird almost skimmed the waves before it flapped its wings and soared upward into the night sky.
    â€œThe wind has died down,” Tania said, looking up at the hanging sails. “How are we going to get moving?”
    â€œZara will whistle us up a fine wind,” Cordelia said.
    At that moment Tania heard the high, clear notes of the flute come wafting toward them. It was a beautiful melody, slow and melancholy at first, a song that might be sung by mariners who had been too long at sea. Tania felt tears prick her eyes as the aching melody drifted over the ship. But then the tune grew livelier, filled with hope and joy—a tune from the hearts of sailors who have seen their home port by the light of a rosy dawn.
    A breeze began to stir the great silvery sails. At first it was only the merest trembling of the canvas, a flicking and fidgeting of rope ends and the warmth of moving air on Tania’s face. But soon the cheeks of the sails began to fill. The ship creaked and sighed, the sails belling out, the timbers thrumming. Tania’s hair blew fitfully across her face until she had to hold it back in her fist, her eyes narrowed against the rising wind.
    Zara’s tune came to a crescendo, the melody rising until it ended in a piping skirl of music.
    The shattered reflection of the moon lay on the sea, the countless stars like pinpoints of white firedancing around it on the black water. Tania leaned farther over the rail, watching the dark water burst into white foam as the prow ploughed the waves.
    â€œWell met, my beloved sister.”
    Tania turned and saw Eden standing behind her, her pure white hair flying in the wind. Many of the care lines seemed to have been smoothed away from her sister’s face since the last time they had met.
    â€œI think we’re close to finding Titania,” Tania told her.
    â€œI hope it is so,” said Eden. Her voice was calm, but Tania knew that her quest meant more to Eden than any of them, for it was Eden who had sent their mother through the Oriole Glass into the Mortal World.
    Oberon mounted the stairs to the forecastle.
    â€œEden?” he called. “Shall we give the Cloud Scudder its wings?”
    â€œYes, Father.” Eden squeezed Tania’s arm and walked to where the king was standing.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” Tania asked Sancha. The ship was moving already, its sails full-bellied with Zara’s enchanted wind.
    Sancha smiled. “You will see.”
    Oberon and Eden stood side by side in the middle of the deck, their heads high, their deep blue eyes reflecting the moon. Slowly and with perfect symmetry their arms began to rise, their hands palm upward, held open with fingers spread wide.
    And as their arms lifted, Tania became aware that they were speaking in chorus, their voices blending together in a slow, mesmerizing chant:
    Hallowed moon—blesséd moon—belovéd moon wingéd moon aloft in the crucible of the night
    Traveler’s Moon, the dreamer’s moon—the starlit songster of time
    sing your songs of years unending—dream your dreams of roads unbending
    listen, yes, listen now—the star-filled silences call across

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