Anya walked through the palace gardens, weaving her way aimlessly through the many paths. The king had told her to go and occupy herself, as he was expecting a guest for a private audience and did not wish to be disturbed.

Thus, she turned a corner here and rounded a plant there, looking at things and wondering about this strange new world she had ended up in. Lost in thought, she walked back towards the main palace building, when suddenly voices tore her from her thoughts.

Turning around, she saw that several metres away, behind a hedge, the royal couple as well as someone she had not seen before were standing and talking animatedly in the language of the fairies. Curious about this stranger, she snuck closer in the cover of the hedge until she could look at him closely.

The stranger was a tall elf with white hair and a slightly blue-tinted skin. He seemed to be in his prime, about as old as John himself. However, other than the king, he bore himself with a snobby air, as if he were better than the royal couple facing him.
When he turned slightly, Anya was able to study his face more closely. While he had a fine, noble face, his nose stuck out like the crag of a rock or mountain. His eyes had the most peculiar features she had ever seen: Rimmed with black lashes, the iris also sported a black rim, but its main colour was a rich amber. However, they lacked the gentleness found in the king’s startlingly blue eyes. Instead they were hard and calculating, as if he was assessing every person he looked at if he were friend or foe.

Another thing she found rather disconcerting were the elf’s clothes. He was wearing stiff and formal robes made of expensive fabric, yes, but the colours were so gaudy her eyes were starting to hurt after a while. However, it was obvious that he did not think of them like that, for he wore them with obvious pride.
In her eyes, the valuable rings he was wearing at his right hand were an excellent supplement to this somewhat garish style, which brought her to the idea that maybe, those rings should change their owner to “improve” his looks.

The elf Anya was studying from behind the hedge was no ordinary person. He was Funchal, the ambassador of the Sea Kingdoms situated to the north of the Forest Kingdom. The relationship between the two countries was, to say the least, difficult and this reflected into the relationship between Maite, John and Funchal.
Secretly, Funchal disdained the royal couple for the fact that Maite, who came from a very old and revered royal family, had married a mere mortal and made him her king and consort. He was still of the opinion that she should have married Lír, the prince of his realm who was still unmarried after all this time.

While Anya did not know this, she still noticed the elf’s disdainful and haughty manner and made a mental note to keep an eye on him. He might prove interesting, she mused. Thus, she concentrated fully on the conversation unfolding before her in spite of barely speaking the language. People’s body language spoke volumes enough sometimes, she did not need to understand everything that was being spoken anyway for that reason.

 

“Your highnesses, you know why I requested this audience?”, the ambassador inclined his head in polite greeting after having exchanged the usual pleasantries with the royal couple.

Maite nodded. “If I am not mistaken, Erréa from the Cerraïnē family was supposed to marry someone from one of your kingdom’s noble families and now, the schedule must be postponed for some reason? I am sure you can elaborate on this, Ambassador?”

Funchal nodded. “As far as I know, the groom fell ill or had an accident of some kind and needs to recuperate from this now. Therefore, the schedule for everything must be postponed and changed. I have been told that the healers say that he should rest for a month before taking on such straining tasks as a big wedding ceremony with everything. Consequently, we must postpone everything.
Thus, I would like to ask your majesties if you would agree to this change of schedule?”

Mildly astonished, the queen nodded. “Of course we agree to this. It is in all our interests that this age-old annoying feud between these two families is finally settled. There was enough bloodshed between them and enough problems both countries had to deal with over time. Convey our sympathies to the families and that we agree to this quite readily, don’t we, John?”

The king, who had listened to the dialogue silently until now, shrugged. “Well, I cannot disagree, can I? I admit I have little idea of what exactly this feud was about and why now the two families are finally willing to settle it. But basically, yes, of course! Let them postpone their wedding until the groom is well again and then may the problem finally be over with.” Looking briefly at his wife, he smiled.

Funchal could barely suppress a smirk and said smoothly, if not a bit acidly, “Of course your Majesty! How imprudent of me to forget that you were not with us at the time the feud was at its height and that because things were already calm again when you decided to join her majesty’s people, you certainly never heard of it! How truly careless of me!”

While the king merely sighed with a shrug, the queen was less amused at this. “Ambassador Funchal, you are forgetting your position! To offend my husband means you offend me as well as my realm and if you are wise, you will first apologize to my husband and then remove yourself from my presence now before I forget myself! Have I made myself clear?”
Funchal sighed internally but did as he was bidden. Turning towards John, he bowed and said, “Your Highness, I apologize for my inappropriate behaviour. Please forgive me.” The king regarded him briefly, exchanged a look with his wife and nodded. “You are forgiven, Ambassador. However, take care that such a behaviour does not occur again in my or my wife’s presence. I would hate to send you back to King Mannanan in disgrace. Now go!”

Again the ambassador bowed to the royal couple, then he turned to leave. He decided to take a shortcut along the hedges Anya was sitting behind. Muttering distractedly, he brushed by and did not notice a small, nimble hand picking the rings off his right hand like plums from a tree. Luckily, the royal couple did not notice either, else the little thief would have been in a pickle right then and there.

It had been a long day for everyone involved, but finally the difficult negotiations had resulted in a trade and peace contract for the Realm of the Forest and its neighbour, the Realm of the Sea. All parties involved had worked hard to maintain their interests, and in the end, a feasible compromise had been made.

With a sigh, Maite allowed her handmaidens to dress her in her finest royal robes for the pompous banquet to celebrate the newly made contract lying ahead of her. She was relieved that things had turned out so well. It could have been much worse, she mused.

While she put on the jewellery reserved for such occasions, her thoughts turned towards John, her husband, who was hopefully already preparing as well with the help of his faithful attendant, Ramón. She loved him dearly, regardless of his often pensive nature and his tendency to have his head in the clouds at times.

Finally, she stepped out of her private rooms to meet her husband in the anteroom of the big dining hall. Shortly before arriving there, she already came across him and smiled at him.

“You are unusually early! How come?” she questioned him, continuing to walk through the hall, while he fell into step at her side.

He laughed lightly and replied, “Thank Ramón for it, he wouldn’t let me out of his sight to ensure that I wouldn’t ‘put my head into the clouds’ as he phrased it.” As they turned towards the entrance, he briefly brushed her wrist, looked at her with the wry smile she had always loved about him and said, “Well, let’s get it done and hopefully all those trade and border quarrels will now have an end.”

The anteroom was a relatively small room. While richly decorated with tapestries, it mainly served as the room the servants used to prepare the meals sent from the kitchen before they were put before the noble guests in the dining hall. For this purpose, a small table stood next to the exit which was hidden by a heavy curtain full of embroidered hunting scenes.

When the couple stepped into it, a servant stopped them with a polite apology and turned towards his queen, “My lady, an important message from Alaïna, your cousin. She insisted that you read it before the banquet!” Maite sighed and turned towards her husband, “Dear, I think you better go ahead and entertain the guests. We cannot let them wait, it would break the protocol. This might take some time; Alaïna has always been a difficult person.”

He nodded and went ahead, while she opened the message seal. Suddenly, she perceived a movement in the corner of her eye and could only just jump back when a knife barely grazed her chest.

In an effort to escape, she attempted to run for the exit, but got caught in the hem of her heavy dress and fell to the floor in a heap of fabric. The assassin seized this opportunity, jumped forward and grabbed her at the ankle. Panicked, she kicked him in the face and struggled to regain her footing the moment she felt his grip release her foot.

He wasn’t stunned for long and when he realized that his prey was about to escape towards the hall, he sprinted after her with two large steps and tried to grasp her again. He missed her by a narrow inch when she nimbly evaded him again with a jump. However, this jump sent her directly into the table next to the exit and the collision sent a sharp stab of pain through her hip.

In pain, she cried out, and her knees threatened to buckle under her. Yet, she could not stop now as she felt her attacker closing up on her again. So she pushed herself up again and turned towards the exit. He tried to hold her arm so that she would turn and he could plunge his knife into her chest. In the last second she was able to push his arms instinctively away with her own forearm, but the knife grazed it and left a flowing trail of red, hot blood on her white gown.

The pain seared through her mind like fire and she spun away with newfound strength, facing the heavy curtain, knowing that this might be her last chance to escape certain death. Obviously her attacker had followed her train of thought, for he was immediately behind her.

The next thing she knew was the sound of tearing fabric and the increase in momentum when her attacker threw himself at her in an effort to catch her. Then she crashed into the dinner table and felt his hand grab her hair and pull her head back until her vertebrae popped and her neck threatened to break.

She didn’t see the assassin smile cruelly when he heard the vertebrae pop and saw her sensitive throat exposed. Neither did she see the flashing knife in his hand coming down to cut the artery in her neck after which she would bleed to death within mere seconds.

When something heavy landed in her back and warm blood trickled down her neck, she detachedly realized that this was the end.

 

It was only after a while that she finally started to wonder idly that, if this was her blood running down her throat, why was she still alive? Carefully, she wedged herself out from under the dead weight and touched the side of her throat only to find herself unharmed and yet she was full of blood. But then, who had been injured in her stead?

As if in a trance, she turned back to the table and suddenly, the world started to move again. The slowly spreading pool of blood in which her saviour lay was a stark contrast to the white tablecloth. Her attacker’s knife was firmly embedded into his shoulder and when she came closer, it finally dawned on her...her own husband had taken the stab meant for her and now lay bleeding and unconscious at her feet.

This realization got her moving and she turned around sharply and called, “Quick, we need a healer here! Get Riano - now!” However, she soon realized that her cry remained unheard.

Guards were holding down a man and she only now saw that he had been the attendant who had given her the fake message from her cousin. The whole hall was in an uproar and people were shouting and running to and fro in a superb display of chaos. She watched the commotion silently until the perpetrator had been brought away to the dungeons, then she repeated her call loudly while dropping to her knees next to her unconscious husband,

“Please, stop this! The king has been gravely injured and he needs a healer now! Where is Riano?”

The uproar slowly died down and after some time which seemed to stretch endlessly, a familiar shadow fell on her. Riano, the stern court healer, had finally arrived.

For a moment, their eyes met, then he bent to examine his sovereign. When he looked up again, his agate grey eyes boded ill.

“My lady, his injury is very grave. The knife barely missed the vital parts and arteries in his shoulder, but it most certainly injured the shoulder joint. We must get it out quickly to avoid further blood loss and injury. He has lost a lot of blood already and we must act now if we want to save his life.”

She met his gaze evenly. “So, what do you suggest?”

“Have him taken to his chambers, I will personally see to this.”, he replied drily. Then he turned and rattled a list of instructions to an attendant about things to prepare and get and people to fetch. He turned back and said in a more gentle voice, “You, my lady, should go and rest a little. Wash the blood off and take some of the herbs I’ll arrange to be sent to your chambers. They should allow you some peace of mind and sleep while I work on your husband. I will get you as soon as I am finished and he is stable.”

Riano briskly issued orders for a stretcher to be brought and had the king carried away by some servants. He followed at a brisk pace.

Numbly, Maite could only look on and let herself be led to her own chambers by her handmaidens who had appeared out of seemingly nowhere.

[edited on June 4, 2009]

Fearfully, Anya ran through the wavering fog. Nothing looked familiar, even the tall trees of the forest seemed to waver in and out of existence. She just had to know what happened in the forest on such a night and perhaps, find out what could cure the fairy king of his malady. So, she had ventured into the forest on the night of Samhain against the queen’s advice.

“Do not go into the forest tonight, Anya!” she had said. “Tonight the border between your world and ours wavers and is insecure! If you do not know where to go, you’ll find yourself between the worlds and this is a very dangerous place to be, especially tonight.”

“Why’s that?” Anya had asked.

“How shall I explain?” The queen had hesitated, looking concerned. The answer to this question was not easy to put in words.

She continued, “The space between the worlds is a kind of ‘nothingness’ where a mere thought can conjure up monsters and muddle your path. It is very easy to get lost there forever, for you cannot find whence you came or whither you are going. This is what happened to many mortals who tried to cross the border into our world. We did not take them, as your stories say, but they got lost between the worlds. Unless one is familiar with the unstable ground there, travelling between the worlds at this time of the year is a hazardous venture.”

“But why didn’t anyone go and save those people?” Anya had wondered, confused.

The queen had sighed. “There are only few who can safely travel such places. Among them are John and I. However, we are bound by our duties to the land and our people. Besides, John is ill. Mind you, venturing into nothingness is draining the energy of everyone, even if he is at his best. Therefore….if John tried it might as well kill him. Before he fell ill, he was the only one in our generation who was capable of finding and rescuing lost travellers. But now…” She trailed off and sadly stared out of the window.

Well, Anya had noticed that by now. She had found herself in a strange place where indefinite shadows came and went after walking through the dark forest for some time. A strange fog obscured her sight and had caused her to lose her path hours ago. Cold slowly seeped into her in spite of her warm clothes.

Suddenly, a twig broke. But when she turned around, there was nothing. Only another dull grey shadow in a dull grey and featureless environment. Was this the nothingness the fairy queen had spoken of so warningly?

Oh, how Anya wished she had listened to her advice. But it couldn’t be helped now, the harm had been done. She knew that possibly she would die here, for nobody was able to find and rescue her here between the worlds.

So, she kept on walking aimlessly until she stumbled to the ground in exhaustion. Lonely and afraid of dying, she began to cry.

 

“What do you mean, she’s gone?” The footman flinched. “She’s gone, your Highness. She is not in her room; she is not in the library, nor in the kitchen.” The slender man leaned forward in his chair in agitation, “Did you look in the stables? She likes to pet the horses and practice riding if nobody's looking.”

The footman nodded and replied, “Yes, your majesty. We turned the palace and the gardens upside down to find her to no avail.” He swallowed nervously, for his king’s blue eyes seemed to search his very soul. Then his sovereign leaned back and asked, “Did you notify the queen yet?”

“No, your highness. She is preparing for the Samhain rituals to open a safe portal to the world of the mortals. You know we aren’t supposed to disturb her.”

John sighed wearily. He had been preparing for his part in the ritual and had already donned the stiff white ritual robe after having ritually cleansed himself. He had just wanted to take the strengthening draught Riano, the healer, had prepared for him so that he could join his wife for the ritual, when Ramón had barged into his private chambers to tell him the bad news.

Where could that girl be at a night like this? She had been ordered to stay put and attend the ritual with him and Maite, not to wander around somewhere where it might be dangerous. Wait….wander and dangerous? Just the mix that would attract Anya like a moth is attracted by the light.

He whirled around, “Ramón, when did you last see her?” Surprised, the servant replied, “An hour before nightfall, your majesty. She was puttering around in the garden and putting on her boots and wearing warm trousers as if she wanted to go somewhere.”
With a frown John asked, “Did she by chance have a bag with her, like the one I use to gather herbs?” – “Yes, milord, in fact she did!”

In virtually no time, John had brushed past the confused Ramón and raced towards his wife’s chambers. He didn’t bother with knocking, this was an emergency. With a bang, he tore into his wife’s room, causing her handmaidens to shriek in fear. Maite looked at her husband in confusion.

“What’s the matte? Shouldn’t you be preparing for the ritual?” She felt alarmed when she saw her husband’s dark look. “Maite, did you see Anya? Ramón tells me she’s all but disappeared.” The queen stared at her husband in consternation and threw her hand in front of her mouth. “Don’t tell me…..We were discussing why she is supposed to stay at the palace tonight until she is called and I told her about the mists…Oh no, don’t tell me she ignored my warnings and went nevertheless!?”

Her husband’s face spoke volumes and he said in a low voice, “I am afraid she did. Foolish girl! I thought she was responsible! But no, she heads off into danger right away – she attracts it, it seems to me! Well…halt the preparations, I’ll go and look for her!” Maite grabbed his arm. “No! You know where that search will lead you, John! You need all your strength for opening the portal, besides, you know where she might have gone. You cannot follow her there, it would kill you!”

John whirled around and grabbed his wife’s shoulders. “You know she is possibly our last hope to save my very life! The poison is slowly but surely killing me and what will then become of the land and of you? Riano’s medicines, powerful as they are, won’t hold off the inevitable much longer. Something must happen and we do not have much time. I won’t relinquish that last chance that lies in that child’s kind heart and if it kills me, so be it. It’s better than having my life force squeezed out of me day by agonizing day. Maite, you know this, so, please – let me go and look for her.” He looked pleadingly into her dark eyes.

Maite looked at her husband. Oh, how often had she cursed Arrik and his plans of conquest and war. Because of them, her poor husband was suffering from excruciating pain from a wound that never healed, his blood poisoned slowly but surely. It was only a matter of time until his body would succumb to its onslaught. Of course, had he not jumped into the line of the knife meant to kill her, she would have been dead by now. On the other hand, her death would have spared him a lot of physical suffering.

In spite of this, John still took the burden of governing the fairy realm as a kind and just king at her side. However, as he was as closely linked to his realm as she was, the land itself was suffering from instability as well. If nothing happened, who knew what would happen once John fell apart for good?

“Maite, will you let me go?” Her husband’s voice shook her from her reverie. She drew a deep breath. “Yes, a stóirin, go and look for her. You are right, it cannot possibly get any worse.” He pressed his lips on hers to share one last passionate kiss to prove that he loved her more than anything, then he sped off, giving orders rapid fire.

 

Anya had sat up, her tears dried away. She felt so cold, so empty and the fog seemed to converge on her as if it wanted to devour her. With empty eyes she stared at it and whispered, “Milord, milady , I am so sorry. I have betrayed your kindness with my folly. Don’t look for me, I’m not worth it. Look for someone else to love….” She closed her eyes and let herself be swept away.

 

John knelt in front of a silver basin filled with clear water from the holy spring. He had moved into a light trance to be able to get a vision about where he had to look for Anya. She was too dear to his heart to just let her go and fade into the great nothingness that parted the world of the mortals from the world of the sídhe.
With the practice of many years he focussed his mind and let his eyes focus on a point past the silvery surface of the liquid. For a moment there was nothing, then images started to swirl. He let them pass by, until they quieted down again.
He drew a deep breath and formed the silent question where Anya was. For a moment, there was nothing and then he saw her. She was engulfed by the mists between the worlds and already slipping away into despair and emptiness. Determined to save her, he now stretched his mind through space and time until he touched hers. Relieved to find her alive, he kept a loose connection at the back of his mind and shifted out of the trance.

When he entered the stable, he found that his trustworthy steed Hrímfaxi had already been saddled for him as he had ordered. Furthermore, Maite was waiting for him, a worried look in her beautiful dark eyes. “Did you find he?” He nodded. “Yes. It is as we feared, she is between the worlds. I have no choice but to try and find her there.” There was a collective gasp and everyone started. “Your majesty, this is dangerous!” – “Your highness!”
He silenced them with a look. “It is necessary and I will go. Hopefully, I return before the dawn breaks. Maite, you perform the ritual, the balance must be kept at all costs!”

With that, he mounted the horse and sped off into the night.

Anya felt herself float somewhere. Where was she? How much time had passed? She opened her eyes. She was still lying in the grey mist. The only thing that had changed was that it had become even thicker and impenetrable. She knew that calling for help was useless now even more than before. Even if someone came to her rescue, he wouldn’t be able to hear her calling. The thick fog swallowed every noise. It was hopeless and she prepared to die, not knowing that help was already on the way.

 

After having ridden deep into the forest, John halted his horse. For a moment he sat still, listening to the wind and to the toneless hum of energy and power the stone circle in front of him gave off. Here, several ley lines and a subterranean water course intersected which provided powerful energy for those who knew how to use it. He inhaled deeply and steeled himself for the effort that lay ahead of him.
But before he could gather the forces around him, a sharp pain shot through his left, injured shoulder which let him slump in the saddle and grab his shoulder in agony. He suppressed a curse and took another sip of Riano’s medicine. Not yet, he could not yet allow himself that weakness.

Again he drew the forces around him and this time he was successful. He could feel the shift around him like the breeze of a cold wind and a change in the air. Suddenly, thick fog welled from nowhere and he knew he had entered the treacherous ground of the “nowhere between the worlds”.

Cautiously he urged Hrímfaxi on with his heels, while he conjured up the mental link with Anya’s mind. Once again he stopped to set a marker into the fog – a bright blue light, the signature of the Fairy King. Then he took off into a seemingly arbitrary direction.

 

It seemed to Anya as if she was lying here for an eternity already. Why wasn’t she dead yet? Or was she already dead and this was the afterlife? She had no idea.
Suddenly there was a noise of hooves clattering. It couldn’t be, could it? Who else had gotten lost in the mists, she wondered dreamily. Perhaps they could keep each other company while waiting for  - whatever lay in store for them here.

The noise grew louder, so she decided to sit up and call out. “Help, please, help me! Is anybody there? Please, I lost my way! Help me! Have mercy on a poor girl!” But no answer, only the steady clatter of hooves. Did she hallucinate already, she idly wondered.
She could let herself give up or die trying to get help, so she again called loudly for help and this time – miracles over miracles – there was a response. The pace of the clattering grew faster and suddenly the shape of a horse and its rider grew visible.

Excited, she gathered what strength she had left and started to run towards the shape. “Help, please, help me if you can! I lost my way home! Please, sir, help me!” And then, the miracle happened.

A bright bluish orb of light lit the air, parting the mists and Anya whooped in joy. John, king of the fairies, was here to save her atop his horse, balancing the orb in his good right hand and holding Hrímfaxi’s reins with the other. Although he looked tired and pale, his intense blue eyes lit up when he saw her. Quickly he rode up to her and dismounted in front of her.

With a pang of worry she noticed that he had to steady himself shortly at the horse’s side and winced in pain as he straightened himself, but then her joy overrode any notion of fear. Her king, the man who had been kind to her always and who had had mercy on her when no one else had, had come to save her from oblivion. Joyfully she ran into his embrace and only felt the love and relief he radiated.

John felt the worry about Anya disappear the moment she threw her small arms around him. He allowed her the embrace, then he pushed her away from him to look her in the eye.

“Do you have any idea how worried I was? Maite must be dying of fear for both of us right now! What possessed you to go into the forest at a time like this? Don’t you know it is dangerous?” he demanded. Anya lowered her head in shame. “I…I wanted to ..”
“Foolish girl, why didn’t you listen to Maite’s warnings? She didn’t warn you just because it is funny! The nights of Samhain and Beltaine are dangerous and even I am risking my life here! Parting the mists to find you and get back to the palace might be the last thing I’ll ever do if something goes wrong! Have you ever thought of that, Anya?”

Anya sniffed and shook her head. Devastated and afraid, she whispered, “No, John, I didn’t. I was only thinking of seeing what the forest looked like in a Samhain night. I’m sorry, I disappointed you, I don’t deserve your mercy and your love. Punish me any way you want.” John knelt in front of her and wiped the tears off her face.
Gently, he said, “Oh dearie, I didn’t want to scare you. I appreciate how much you care for me and the fondness you hold for me in your  heart. It was only – I was so afraid that I wouldn’t find you in time. This place is treacherous and dangerous. How often have I set out before I was wounded to help mortals who lost their way only to find that they had already given themselves up to nothingness and faded into it? Oh, was I ever afraid to only find remains of your mental signature instead of seeing you safe and sound, if exhausted, before me! But now we must hurry! Keeping the way back stable takes a lot of my energy and if we tarry too long I might be unable to part the mists another time. “ Anya nodded and gently embraced her saviour, “Thank you, John. You saved my life today and I owe you big time for the risk you took. I’m terribly sorry I worried you and now…” she trailed off.

 John rose and led her to the horse. “Can you mount him if I help you?” Anya nodded, so they proceeded to mount: first she, then him. He gently wrapped her into his woollen cloak, then he clicked his tongue and turned the horse around. He knew that time was running out and if they wanted to have the slightest chance of returning home safely they would have to hurry. However, he was glad to feel Anya’s warmth close to him. It was a reassuring feeling and when he examined her with a mental probe he was relieved to find that she was basically okay, only tired and exhausted.

Soon, they were back at the marker. Anya, who had contentedly and tiredly leaned into John’s chest, snapped to full alertness when suddenly, John hissed sharply and shifted his weight on the horse’s back. “What’s the matter? John? Is it your shoulder again?” Once again, he took a sip of the medicine, then he briefly laid a hand on the girl’s head. “Yes, using my powers puts strain on it because some energy channels go through the damaged tissue. For things like these they have to carry high levels of energy which hurts a lot these days. But it cannot be helped, I must bear the pain to get us home! – Anya, keep still now and don’t be afraid!”

With that he straightened and raised his hands. Anya felt her scalp tingle and her hair stand on end. She could almost feel energy coursing through John’s body and the effort it cost him to keep it steady in spite of the excruciating pain it caused him. But then, she sighed in relief as the fog parted and they were in a familiar part of the dark forest.

However, her relief quickly dissipated when she felt John slump in the saddle behind her. Fearfully, she called him, “John? John! Are you all right? Should I take the reins?” For a second she thought he had lost consciousness, but then he answered hoarsely, “No, we’re not in safety yet, but it’s not far anymore. Anya, if I lose consciousness or fall from the saddle, which might happen any time now, I want you to do the following…” He rattled off a list of instructions and asked, “Can you remember that? Keep in mind at any time, if I fall, ride towards the palace, do not tarry and get Maite. Riano is supposed to prepare everything there, it is Maite who has to come out here and don’t you let them tell you otherwise. If they protest, tell them I ordered it.” Upon her nod, he took a sip of Riano’s medicine and urged the horse forward as fast as possible in this dark night.

An icy ball of fear lodged itself in Anya’s stomach. She could hear John’s laboured breathing and felt his effort at not losing consciousness so that they might both return home safely. There was no use in upsetting Maite unnecessarily, she reflected wryly, Maite would be beside herself anyway, no matter what, when she laid eyes on her husband. Nevertheless, there was a very real danger of John getting worse. He already was teetering on the brink of turning for the worse and she knew it was only his willpower and trained discipline that kept him from falling apart completely.

 

Maite sighed tiredly and in worry. As her husband had asked, she had opened the gate between her kingdom and the world of the mortals to allow those who desired so to pass through. Afterwards, she had retired to her chambers to rest and gather strength. She had a sinking feeling when she thought of John’s excursion into the mists and dreaded his return. Nevertheless, she undressed and allowed her handmaidens to bathe her and put a nightgown on her. She had to sleep at least a little to be able to act on the spot upon the return of Anya and her husband. Oh, she thought before she fell asleep, she would lecture Anya about her idiocy and folly which caused John to risk his life for her.

The next thing she knew was that a page stormed into her still-dark room, “Your Majesty, come quick! The king is back and he has the girl!” Maite sat upright in an instant and ordered, “Very good. You, boy, go to Riano and have him prepare his medicines and come down to the courtyard.  Then, go see Ramón and have him prepare the king’s chambers and his bed. He should also prepare clean strips of linen for wound dressings and lots of clean linen as a whole. Hurry!” The boy darted away, while she quickly dressed in a simple white robe, slipped on comfortable shoes and tied her long black hair into a quick braid. There was no time to be lost with any extravaganza.

When she came out into the courtyard, she was greeted with a horrible sight.  Tiredly the horse stumbled into the yard, with its tired riders on its back. Guards escorted them in. But that was not what horrified her. The sight of her husband, though, did. He barely held on to consciousness and was swaying dangerously in the saddle. Still, he held on to Anya who seemed tired, but unharmed. Fear was clearly visible in her face and the awareness of the danger her saviour was in.

Maite darted to the horse’s side, stopped it with a quick tug at the reins and called her husband’s name in alarm, “John? John! Are you all right? Answer me!“ He looked up, eyes tired and dark with pain, "Maite…I found her and she is well. Take her down, so I can get off the horse and rest. My shoulder…” While he spoke, a warrior pulled Anya from the horse. When her feet touched the ground she moved to stand next to Maite and looked up at her with fearful eyes. “Will he be alright? Please, say that he’ll be okay!”

Maite opened her mouth to respond to the child’s question when suddenly, her husband gripped his shoulder with a groan and slowly, ever so slowly slid out of the saddle. He obviously did not notice anymore that two warriors caught him, for he had lost consciousness.

With an alarmed cry Maite fell to her knees beside him and quickly opened his cloak. “Oh ye Gods!”, she breathed in horror. His white robe was stained with a growing spot of dark blood which had seeped through the tight bandages he usually wore to protect his shoulder. Dimly, she heard other exclamations of horror from the growing crowd which had gathered in the beginning dawn. Wanting to cry in fear and frustration, she knew that she could not. She was the queen of their people and she had to stay strong for all their sakes.

Pulling herself together, she barked out orders. “Guards, get those gawking idiots out of the way! We don’t need any unpleasant rumours! Where is Riano? Iltyd, Marcos, carry the king inside! Anya, you go with me, I am going to have a good talk with you when John is settled in!”

Riano pushed through the crowd and surveyed the damage. He suppressed a string of not very nice words to say in front of his queen and bent to quickly examine his lord sovereign. “Your Highness, this is bad. I agree, he should be brought in immediately. Are his chambers at the ready?”, he asked no one in particular. The queen looked at him and nodded. “I gave appropriate orders when I was notified of my husband’s return. Now, we must hurry to keep him alive!” She turned, took Anya by the hand and motioned for Riano to follow her.

 

For Anya, the next hours proved to be purgatory and hell in one. Maite had left her in front of the door of John’s chambers with the strict orders to stay there after she had assured herself that the child was uninjured. When the queen had not come out again to get her and she was ignored by the attendants passing by, Anya sat down on the floor and a little later, lay down to sleep. She didn’t mind sleeping on the floor, she had done it almost all her life. Although she did like feather beds to sleep in, the floor still had something familiar a fine feather bed lacked.
However, her sleep was not as peaceful as she had hoped. She was plagued with nightmares of people accusing her of attempted murder and treason. Monsters hunted her down dark forests and pathways. But nobody was there to see her fear and her tears.
She didn’t know how much later it was when someone shook her roughly at the shoulder. Blearily she sat up and grunted, “What the heck? Whadda ya want? Get lost!” Riano angrily shook her and snapped, “Quit that attitude, girl! The queen wants to talk to you! Probably she wants to punish you for what you did and rightfully so! The king’s life is in danger, he’s fighting death and it is all your fault! Now get up before I make you!” – “Eh! Close yer trap, I ain’t gettin’ up just because ye’re sayin’ so!”, Anya snapped back. “Oh, cut it out! The king might be dying this very moment and instead of being with him, I’m here, trying to wake you because the queen insists on your presence!” Sleepily, Anya blinked twice. “Why didn’t you say that before? Couldn’t you quit shaking me? For heaven’s sake, I ain’t no fuckin’ street urchin you can push around!” Angrily, she rose and shook her hair. “So, where am I supposed to go, Riano? Inside?”

Riano scowled and nodded. How dare that little pest address him like this? She behaved as if she still had the favour of the royal couple, but he’d place any bet that she had fallen from it now. What she had done might possibly kill the king and it was her fault, and he would make that known to the queen.

Anya had expected a great many unpleasant sights. She was used to them as a street child after all. She had seen the victims of brawls lying in their blood later on or people stabbed to death. In fact, she had even stolen from those unfortunate enough to be unable to defend themselves in order to live another day. But then, those had not been people she loved or felt remotely close to. In fact, these persons would have tried to molest her or worse if she had met them while they were well.

So, she was in no way prepared for the sight that greeted her when she entered the king’s private chambers. She had been here before, keeping him company when he felt unwell, but then he had been much better and was usually only somewhat annoyed at having to stay in bed on Riano’s orders and glad to see her. He would always smile, hiding his pain, and get her to tell him some story or the newest rumour from the kitchens. Sometimes he would tell her of his time in the streets of the human world and enjoy her “ahh” and “ooh” of delight. Often, he would also practice reading and writing with her, for when he lay in bed, no audiences would be held for anyone.

But this time was radically different. There were no smiles greeting her, only dark looks from Maite and Riano. The king himself lay in bed motionless, asleep or unconscious, covered only to the chest, his upper body naked. His face was pale and drawn, his shoulder tightly bandaged. Still, blood seeped through the bandages. To sum it up: he looked horrible and briefly, Anya wondered if he was still alive at all.

Maite had read her thoughts. “Yes, he is still alive. But for how long? Normally, I would not let you in to witness such a sad sight, but things have changed. Come, behold the consequences of your folly!” Anya stood rooted to the spot, feelings of guilt overwhelming her. It was all her fault. Had she only listened to Maite’s warnings in the beginning, all this would not have happened and the king’s life would not be in peril now.

Riano walked up to the king’s bed to feel his pulse, then he turned to face Maite. “My queen, I have told you countless times, this girl is a danger to the king’s health. Look at your husband if you do not believe me. It is because of her carelessness that his majesty is now fighting death. You know as well as I do that my potions start to lose their effectiveness and – if it goes on like this – the only thing I will be able to do for him is to ease his pain a little, nothing more. His majesty is very well aware of this too. Your Highness, I ask that this street urchin be removed from the king’s presence and that she is punished properly to avoid further…accidents.”

The queen sighed heavily and replied, “What am I to do, Riano? My husband has grown attached to her and she is but a child. She may act like an adult sometimes because she has been on her own so long, but mind you, she is still very young, even in human terms. Did you know she is only 13 summers old? For us, she’s a mere babe. Nevertheless, I agree with you that proper punishment is in order.  – Anya come here!” Anya, who had been listening to this exchange with growing horror, slowly came closer with her head lowered and said, “Maite, there is nothing I can say. I’m only a child of the streets and it’s a miracle that your husband had mercy on me. Back home nobody would have. Do with me as you please.”

Maite leaned over to her. “Anya, I think you understand that what you did today put you and John in grave danger, didn’t it?” The girl nodded, so she continued, “You know that my husband loves you dearly and that he thinks a lot of you. For his sake, I will not forbid you to come here. Instead, you are to help me take care of him until he is well enough again to decide whether he wishes to punish you for the pain you caused him. Do you understand me?” Riano burst in, “But… your majesty! She did almost kill him with that escapade; this proves that she is not reliable! How can you...”

Suddenly, a weak voice sternly interrupted Riano’s protest, “Stop that, Riano…I will not have such discussions here….I am the king here and it is I who decides on such things…” Riano opened and closed his mouth in astonishment. In his current state, John should not have been able to follow, much less interrupt a conversation. He had been drugged to kingdom come to keep the pain at bay and allow him to rest and sleep.

Paperwork usually was the part of governing a country which was less than glamorous and more than boring sooner or later. However, it was just as important as fancy receptions for ambassadors and dignitaries and therefore needed to be done.

This particular summer afternoon had been crammed with paperwork and the secretary flitting in and out of the room with papers as well as a footboy who had had to serve his king one cup of sevan chai, a tea known among the fair folk for its refreshing and regenerative value, after the other. Now it was finally getting dark, so the light globes on the wall and near the royal desk were lit by an attendant gliding silently into the room.

With a sigh, John leaned back, rubbed his temples and carefully stretched his cramped shoulders. It was not that he disliked this kind of work, but when he sat like this for too long, his injured shoulder protested quite painfully.

Nevertheless, he’d sat bent over all these papers since after lunch which he had taken with his queen before they had separated to their respective duties as king and queen of the Secret Forest. Many papers had merely been requests or organisational matters, while others had dealt with important issues which had to be discussed first with Maite and then brought to the council.

With a smooth movement, he rose from his chair, strode over to the window and opened it. Inhaling deeply, he took a breath of the sweetly-smelling cool air coming in. For a while, he just stood there and enjoyed the view of the forest spreading out, protecting his country’s inhabitants and giving them a livelihood.

Turning back to the table, he glanced over the room with its practical, but still invaluable furnishing: Close to the window, there was an elegant desk, on which sat a light globe emitting a soft blue light and a large stack of papers. On the far side of the room was a small coffee table surrounded by chairs and a sofa. This arrangement was intended for informal meetings and talks. Opposite this arrangement were a few cupboards containing books, scrolls, folders and documents of all kinds. The room’s design was rounded by the elaborately designed carpets and tapestries depicting various forest and hunting scenes as well as mythological motives and a fireplace.

Again, John sighed and returned to his desk to finish the paperwork of the day so that he could retire to the chambers he shared with his wife. He had just taken the quill into his hand to write a letter when a loud noise made him jump and wince in pain.

The door flew open and in came Riano, the court healer, who was dragging Anya after himself and several other attendants. The girl fought desperately with all her might, insulting her captor loudly with words usually unheard at the king’s court and trying to scratch and bite while trying to hide something.

The king could barely contain his astonishment as he turned towards his healer and asked, “Riano, what is this? What happened?”

The healer made a cursory bow and replied harshly, “Your Majesty, this – this urchin has stolen half of my íssil supplies! That herb is poisonous in the wrong hands! Besides, may I remind your highness of the fact that it is invaluable and expensive to get if one doesn’t know where to get it? Your Majesty, you must punish her for this, else this will make a precedent and then woe on us! You really must – ah!” While he spoke, he had tightly held on to Anya’s hands and struggled to pin her down. But suddenly, she tensed and actually sank her teeth into Riano’s wrist in an attempt to free herself from his iron grip. The healer cried out in protest and unsuccessfully tried to shove her away to arm’s length. The attendants tried to help him, but to no avail. The little witch held fast and fought like a cat in self-defence.

With a frown, the king rose from his chair to walk over to the two struggling people. Next to them, he went down on one knee and merely touched the girls shoulders and spoke to her in a low voice, using the human tongue commonly spoken in Taróy, “Enough, Anya! There is no reason to fight, no soldier and nobody wanting to harm you. Let go! I command you!” To ensure her compliance, he gently underlined his words with a brief touch to her mind.

The girl trembled briefly, but then let go and sank to the floor in a heap of clothes and a gust of the unmistakable smell of íssil plants while Riano held his bleeding wrist and cursed softly, “Ah, this little witch, she’s bitten me! What a disgrace and what a…”  The king interrupted him sternly, “Riano, hush! Sit down over there on the sofa, I’ll have to clean and treat your bite wound. Ramón, go and fetch me alcohol, clean linen and the yarrow ointment from the healers’ supply cabinet. You others, one of you get the queen! Anya – you stay put; I have a few questions for you! Now out of here!”

Riano tried to protest his king’s orders, “But your majesty, I really can treat a wound on my own! It’s not becoming a king to treat…” John mildly looked at him and smiled, “I believe you are forgetting that injured wrists are hard to bandage, old friend, so if you please, let me do it. I might be terribly out of practice but nevertheless…In addition, the bite wound seems to be deep.”

The healer rolled his eyes, “If my king commands…”
“This I do.”

Minutes later, John’s personal attendant Ramón arrived with the supplies and the king quickly treated his old friend’s injury. Then he turned towards Anya.

“Anya, come here!” Obediently, the girl approached and came to stand facing him with a defiant look. He continued in a more gentle voice, “What possessed you to steal íssil and bite Riano? I would like to hear what you have to say about this.”

Anya bit her lip, and then she hissed angrily, “It ain’t your business, anyway! What would you care? I just wanted to have it!” Riano snorted derisively and countered, “Ha! Your Majesty, don’t believe a word of what she says! She didn’t touch anything else, only the íssil!” John arched a brow and leaned forward.

“Anya, please don’t lie to me. If you need íssil for some justified reason, you only need to ask. You know that, so why did you steal it?”

The girl snorted and stubbornly remained silent. She turned her head away in an exaggerated show of disdain. However, she knew that she was trapped and weighed her options. Attacking the king and escaping was out of the question, he had always been the only one who was kind to her and in a way, she liked him. He had saved her more than once, which meant she was indebted to him. One hand washes the other, as an old saying within the Guild of Thieves said. Attacking Riano again right in front of the king was no viable option. Besides, the healer was strong and wiry and would, now that he was prepared for it, deflect an attack with ease.

Gently, John took the girl’s hands into his own slender hands and pulled her close to him. Then he touched her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. Again, he gently asked, “Why did you steal the íssil plants, Anya? Do you lack something? What is it?”

Anya found herself speechless, transfixed by the Fairy King’s eyes that seemed to be searching her very soul and spirit, knowing her heart. Finally, she managed to avert her gaze, her lips trembling. Then it just burst out of her, “Do you have any idea how much just one single íssil leaf is worth? In certain places only one single leaf will grant you a full month of food and quarters, if not even protection! There are people who’d pay a fortune just to get their daily fix of íssil smoke or drink. They smoke it in a pipe, as cigarettes or they dissolve the powder into some wine. Either way, they get addicted to it in a short time and need larger doses of it each day.”

The king raised a brow and nodded for her to continue. “This plant…”, Anya excitedly waved a few stalks in front of his nose. “This plant makes people forget their worries, pains and aches. Many who live in the streets such as I do, sooner or later start taking it as a means to forget they’re cold and lonely and have to survive on their own. The streets of Taróy are a place where it’s every man for himself. There’s no place for the fancy decision of what you’ll have for dinner – rather you’ll think about whether you’ll actually have dinner and if you’ll live to have one. Íssil makes you forget for a merciful while and allows you to dream yourself into a better world, if you know what I mean.”

John cocked his head curiously. “And you? Did you ever take it or are you taking it?”

Anya shook her head no. “I always refused to take it. You see, it turns people into wrecks and this is fatal. How do you want to be a good thief if all you can and want to do is lie around, waiting for your next fix? Besides, you’re easy prey for everyone else that way. Íssil addicts lose themselves and become lifeless shells of what they once were. I don’t want that for me.”

“I suppose you readily availed yourself of those persons’ money and whatever they possessed?”, Riano acidly asked.

Anya shot him a mock-innocent glance, “What did you think? Of course I did. It was money and stuff I could more or less pluck off them like apples from a tree. Why waste good clothes and money if all those people ever did was look at you and do nothing. Sooner or later, they’re killed anyway, and then all is splattered with blood and basically ruined. Therefore, steal first, ask questions later.”

A shadow passed over the king’s face when she said that. He laid his hands gently onto Anya’s shoulders. “Anya, look at me. I would like to ask you a few questions. You don’t need to answer me right here and right now, but please consider them and their implications well.

First, I would like to know if this life of a homeless thief is all you ever wanted and needed? Do you want this, do you like this?  Second, did you ever lack anything here so that you have to resort to stealing again? I thought we had agreed on a “no stealing” policy while you’re here and yet we are playing the same game of you stealing things time and again. You know that if you want something, be it food or clothes, you need only ask.”

He gently laid a hand onto her head and smiled sadly. She pouted her lips and looked at him.

“I don’t know….well, I guess, I’m stealing because it’s what I always did. I mean, I do remember living with my parents when I was very young but that was ages ago. I only remember fuzzy images of warmth and comfort. When they died, I was left alone to fend for myself in the streets. The King of Thieves took me in and taught me all I know to make me a master thief. The streets are dangerous, John. I cannot afford to be without protection and being a member of the Guild of Thieves offers just that. Sure, you have to hand in part of your earnings, but you get to keep most of it. I usually sell most of the stuff for food or shelter. Once or twice I got a very good price after I had stolen quite a bit of íssil from a trader coming in from the south. Get my point?”

The king nodded. The girl’s face and her eyes told him a story of having to live on her own in a hostile environment where she could trust no one but herself with no one to turn to for real love. All her relationships were of the more professional kind since thieves do not associate more than necessary in order to avoid attention and trouble. Everybody looks after himself first, and then he might perhaps help his fellow thieves.

Suddenly there was a soft knock at the door. Everybody turned when Maite, the queen herself, entered the room and strode up to them with soundless, light steps. As always, she wore herself with dignity and pride, every inch a queen in her own right. Whenever Anya saw her, she always thought to herself that while Maite was short and dark, she possessed an elegance no mortal would ever reach and the warmth of a merry fire in a cold winter night. When she smiled, it was as if the sun would rise and her laughter was full and musical.

The queen smiled at her husband, lighting up the room for a moment, then her expression turned serious while she assessed everyone sitting on the couch. “The attendant came to me in a hurry, telling me that something serious had happened and that you have sent for me, dearest. What is it?”

John sighed wearily and replied in his wife’s native tongue, “Anya here has stolen íssil from the healers’ supply cabinet. It seems to me Riano caught her and decided to drag her to me for judgement. In the process, she bit him into the wrist, causing a pretty deep wound which I have already patched up. Is this correct, Riano?”

The healer nodded and added in the same language, “This despicable urchin has stolen half of our íssil supplies and your majesty knows perfectly well that these herbs are dangerous in the wrong hands. While potent painkillers when handled correctly, they can easily cause a person to get addicted to it, no matter whether they are of our folk or mere mortals. I have a rough idea just why she has stolen it, but nothing to prove it yet.”

Maite turned toward her husband and motioned for him to continue. “I have already questioned the child but not gotten a convincing answer just yet, much less any proof. I, too, have my thoughts based on what she has already said, yet I still don’t know for sure. Personally, I believe that she wanted to build a stock of it for fear she might have to return to the streets some day. Íssil is valuable as a drug on the streets and can therefore be used to buy food and shelter, a valuable asset if you have no one and nothing.”

He continued in the Common Tongue, “Anya, what do you need all that íssil for? Did you want to buy anything for it? You mentioned it was a kind of currency?”

Anya snapped out of her contemplation of the queen and nodded. “Didn’t I already say so? You can buy almost everything with the right amount of íssil. There are so many addicts that you can charge anything and they are all willing to pay the price, never mind what it is. Besides, who knows for how long I might stay here, so I thought a stack of it would be quite in order. Pity that I was caught.” She sighed theatrically.

Surprised, the queen spoke up, “Child, do you lack anything here that you think of buying it? My husband gives you his hospitality and kindness; he told you that you need only ask to get anything you want as befits an honoured guest. So why do you betray his hospitality?”

Anya shrugged and smirked. “Better be safe than sorry, I guess. M’lady, you have no idea of how it is here in your fancy palace. You have servants and guards and food and all that. Did you ever sleep on a roof or in a sewer? Did you ever go without food for days because it was winter and the market was closed? Did you ever have to run to avoid being caught by soldiers? I wouldn’t recommend getting yourself caught because that’d mean they chop off your right hand and brand you. Thanks, I’ll rather not have that.”

John pulled his wife close when he saw her shocked expression at Anya’s explanation. He briefly embraced her, then he turned back to Anya. “Well then I should remind you that you are safe here and that you have no need to hoard and stack stuff which is not yours. Empty your pockets, please. I’m sure you have more in them than just íssil.”

The girl rolled her eyes and dutifully emptied her pockets onto the table. Indeed, there was not only an assorted variety of herbs, but also various valuables members of the court had been missing over the last few weeks. With a pleased expression, John handed the herbs to Riano, who took them and left to return them immediately. The valuables he put into a small bag and made a mental note to return them to their owners.