Moon Shadows (39 page)

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the castle on the hill, where light and laughter reigned, discord entered with Lord Jack's arrival. The dancing ceased and the music fell silent. He strode toward the dais where Rowan and Ash sat on their thrones of gold, scattering revelers by the sheer power of his anger.

“You go too far,” he said fiercely. “The mortal woman is not yours, to do with what you like.”

“Nor is she yours,” Ash said sternly.

“A pity,” added his queen. “Perhaps you would be happier with a human companion.”

“Is that why you have played your tricks upon her? In the misguided opinion that it would make me happy to betray her into sharing my exile? If so, you do not know me—even after all this time.”

Phoebe stepped through the doorway on the heels of his words. She was in the vast hall of her dream, where columns of gold and malachite held up a carved lapis ceiling, but the lanterns were hollow rubies, casting a scarlet glow.

A sudden hush fell over the assembled courtiers and they
parted to let her through. Lady Rowan lifted her head. “Well! Here is your fair lady come, Lord Jack, to rescue you.”

The man standing before the dais turned to face Phoebe. Not “Lord Jack,” but Gordon, as he should have been, without the cruel scars that marked him in the human world. He stood tall and splendid in his rich silk garments, but his face was like a storm cloud.

He stepped forward to block her way. “No! Go back while you still can. This is no affair of yours.”

“It is,” she said, smiling up into his eyes.

She held out her hand where the gems glowed on her open palm and addressed the queen. “I have come to return what is rightfully yours, Lady Rowan—and to claim what is mine.”

“He is mine!” Rowan exclaimed. “You see the silver circle bound around his wrist, symbol of my protection.”

“A symbol of your cruelty,” Phoebe said. “What did Gordon Tremaine do to make you punish him so grievously?”

Lord Ash's voice came like thunder. “He intruded upon a faerie rite that no mortal may see and live—and yet you see he has survived.” He turned a wrathful look on Rowan. “By my wife's decree!”

“How could I not intervene,” his queen said, “when he saved my pretty page boy from the jaws of a hungry fox?”

She looked at Phoebe. “Little Pippin is dear to me, but a naughty, adventuresome creature. He stole a faerie steed and slipped away into the mortal world. Had it not been for Lord Jack's intervention, he might have been eaten. And then Lord Jack, he whom you call Gordon Tremaine, brought Pippin back to Faerieland, thus stumbling into forbidden territory. For his noble action, I intervened and saved him from my husband's wrath.”

Phoebe was angry. “And in your gratitude, you made him lame and scarred? May I be preserved from such graciousness!”

To her surprise, Rowan looked abashed. “Even such as we are constrained by the rules of our kingdom. A compromise was the best I could effect. In these halls of Faerie, Gordon Tremaine is honored as Lord Jack, free and undamaged. Only in the mortal world does he suffer. The choice of worlds has always been his.”

“Let him go! Free him from your spell.”

Lady Rowan shook her head. “It is beyond my power.”

Gordon stepped between Phoebe and the queen. “I will not have her involved in this. Set her free and wipe her memory clean!”

But Rowan gazed down at him solemnly. “That, too, is beyond my power.”

Phoebe smiled. “But not beyond mine.”

Lady Gwynn's ramblings had given her the clue, but it was her father's lifework that had provided the key. “There is one way he may escape his servitude—if some other mortal steps forward to take his place.”

She held out her wrist. “Remove the silver band you forced upon him. I will accept it in his place.”

“Is this of your own free will?”

“It is.”

“Why?” the king interrupted.

Phoebe smiled. “For a reason even you would understand. For love.”

Gordon stepped forward and barred her way. “I refuse your offer. Go back, Phoebe, while you still can.”

Lord Ash rubbed his jaw. “Why should you refuse if her offer is sincere? If freedom is so great a boon, why not seize it now?”

Gordon's voice was controlled fury. “Because I value honor more.”

Rowan smiled. “Do you love this woman?”

“More than my life.”

The faerie queen's smile grew. “Then your magic is indeed strong and it has won your freedom!”

Lord Ash waved his hands. There was a great grinding of stone on stone. The graceful columns began to crack and twist as bits of gold rained down from the ceiling. Rowan cried out as a lantern fell, smashing into iridescent shards at her feet.

Ash gave a mighty roar of anger. “Foolish mortals!”

He threw his arms wide. Lightning flashed from his hands and thunder roared. The vast hall trembled. A burst of green fire shot from the elf king's fingertips. Gordon sheltered
Phoebe in his arms as the castle and all the beautiful faerie hosts vanished.

When the sound and fury ended they stood heart to heart on the deserted moor, their arms wrapped tight around each other.

Phoebe stared in surprise. Where the Faerie Stables had once stood was nothing but a tumble of broken rock. She looked at Gordon and her eyes sparkled with tears of happiness.

She laid her palm against his face. “Oh, my darling!”

Gordon looked down at his hands. The silver runic band had vanished from his wrist. He stood strong and whole once more, the mass of twisted purple scars healed and gone.

“I am restored,” he said wonderingly.

He pulled her closer and kissed her soft lips. “You saved me, Phoebe—and put yourself at risk to do so.” Gordon was still shaken.

“Just as you risked yours for mine.”

“I didn't care what happened to me, as long as you were saved. I couldn't bear to see you trapped inside the faerie world with me.”

She touched his cheek. “I would have joined the faerie world willingly, if it meant eternity with you.”

Gordon sighed against her hair. “My wonderful, beautiful Phoebe! How thankful I am that my uncle invited you to Thorne Court—although I fully intended to send you away.”

She laughed. “I wouldn't have gone. I'm still as stubborn as I ever was. And I sensed, from that first moment in the book room, that there was still something between us and that you still cared for me.”

“I never stopped loving you. I was furious with Rowan for sending you dreams and visions, trying to lure you into her realm.”

“Is that what you thought she was doing?”

He raised his brows. “Wasn't she?”

An odd little smile played on Phoebe's lips. “We women—of any world—have more in common than you know. She was fond of you and wanted you to be happy. I believe it was all a
test. A test of love. Lady Rowan knew you would do whatever you could to protect me and that our love would break the spell in the process.”

“Yes,” he said slowly. “It begins to make sense now. So that is the reason she interfered . . .” Gordon looked grave. “I wonder what has happened to them.”

Phoebe smiled up at him. “Why, I believe you still have a tendresse for your beautiful faerie queen. Don't worry, that was more of Lord Ash's trickery. His way of saving face with a grand, magical gesture.”

“Then you believe the castle and the faerie folk still exist somewhere?”

“Oh, yes. In some far corner of these isles where they are unlikely to be found. Land's End perhaps, or far across the Irish Sea.” She had a sudden premonition. “Or just beyond that meadow, invisible to our eyes.”

“I'm glad,” Gordon said, “despite everything. They don't think as we do. They live by their own rules, which are very different from ours.” He cupped Phoebe's face between his hands and kissed her. “I asked you once before, long ago. Will you marry me, Phoebe?”

“I will.” She laughed. “And soon, before you change your mind again.”

His blue eyes held hers. “I never changed my heart. You are, and have always been, my own true love.”

They kissed again as the sun rose, chasing away the shadows that covered the land. Thorne Court shone fresh and golden in the light of a bright new dawn.

And faintly, faintly, from the flower-strewn meadow, came a woman's light laughter, and the chime of silver bells.