The sheriff of London came himself to respond to the call from St. James's Palace, because it involved the Lady Elizabeth. It took several hours to find him but once he had been informed of the circumstances, he arrived promptly. And it took every bit of that time to bring Elizabeth to the point where she would promise not to use her ability to shield any person except herself.
In the end, it was only Denoriel's assurance that he would take her Underhill again and have her taught other methods of defense that convinced her. Truthfully, Denoriel was greatly alarmed by the gleam in her golden eyes when she finally offered her promise that as soon as she was sure she could save her people by other means she would never use her shield. He had a strong impulse to demand that she also promise not to push those she did not like down a flight of stairs or strike them with flying objects, but he clamped his teeth over the words. It was possible she had not yet thought of that mischief; to put it into her head was lunacy.
The sheriff made no problems. His clerk took Nyle and Shaylor's evidence and made note of Ladbroke's explanation of Stover's behavior. He did come to the palace to question Blanche to make sure her tale agreed with what Ladbroke had told him. Since both were telling the truth, Blanche only added confirming detail. Elizabeth, whom he did not ask any questions, offered voluntarily what she had seen when she arrived at the stable yard.
"I thought he was a madman," she said, in a little-girl voice, blinking back tears. "Blanche has been with me since I was born and I thought he was going to kill her. I was too frightened to give the men any order, but I assure you I would have bid them do everything to save her, so you may say I ordered my men to defend Blanche."
"And so I would do, if it were necessary," the sheriff agreed. "But it seems, Lady Elizabeth, that this will not be necessary. He was a madman, for all agree that your armsmen did not kill him. When he realized he could not harm Mistress Parry any further, he turned the knife on himself. Your man Ladbroke seems to think he knew he would face the hangman, and preferred to take his own life."
Having pleased everyone and satisfied himself that no one was to blame and that there never had been any threat to the king's daughter, the sheriff made ready to depart. Mistress Champernowne, following him to the outer door, asked nervously whether there was any need to report the matter to the king since no threat had been directed at Lady Elizabeth, and that, indeed, it was purely by accident that Lady Elizabeth had returned to the stable and been present.
The sheriff hemmed and hawed a bit, but since he had not the slightest desire to bring Henry's irritable attention on himself, since so few people knew of the incident and all of them would be silent, and since Mistress Champernowne explained how very anxious Lady Elizabeth was not to trouble her father when he was so busy planning the war against France, the sheriff had his clerk tear up the pages.
Stover, who had no family, was buried quietly on the waste-ground used for paupers' graves, and Ladbroke found a new groom, solidly honest and respectable, to take his place. In the palace, life returned to normal. Elizabeth studied with Master Grindal in the morning and, depending on the weather, rode or did needlework in the afternoon—except that Denoriel now always met her in the stable rather than in the park.
Normal, however, had little to do with peaceful. Elizabeth wanted the weapons Denoriel had promised her, and she prodded him constantly to arrange for her visit Underhill. The matter was not totally within Denoriel's control; he needed to arrange for lessons with Tangwystl—and he could not find her. She was gone from the Academicia on some business for Queen Titania.
Had it been anyone else, Denoriel would have pursued Tangwystl, since his meetings with Elizabeth were degenerating into sparring matches of "You promised" and "Have patience." However, Denoriel did not want to draw Titania's attention to the situation, and he bemoaned Elizabeth's intransigence and impatience to Harry one day when they were dining together at his house. Harry laughed heartily and reminded him that they had both bewailed the color of Elizabeth's hair even when she was a baby.
"That," Denoriel said, grimacing, "is the horrible truth, but of no help at all."
"Yes, but I think I can be of help," Harry said, between chuckles. "I don't suppose you want her taught any of the great magics—"
"Grace of God, no!" Denoriel exclaimed, looking horrified. "I shudder to imagine what she would do with them. Probably turn me into a toad. And, anyway, I do not think she has the power to use them—except if she were badly frightened or furiously angry."
"Ah . . ." Harry raised his brows and then shook his head. "I do not think that would be a good time to invoke the greater magics. No, what you would want is some small, simple spells that could delay any threat until Dunstan or her guardsmen arrived."
"Exactly," Denoriel agreed, the corners of his mouth twitching. "Tanglefoot, for instance. Or the ability to push a person without touching him or even coming near."
Harry nodded and grinned. "And let us hope she will not take to pushing those who annoy her down the stairs." He nodded again, looking satisfied. "Elidir or Mechain could teach her such simple spells. Even fire-lighting."
"No!" Denoriel exclaimed, thinking of all too many ways Elizabeth could cause mischief with that spell. "She will surely lose her temper and set someone's hair afire—likely mine! Let us leave out fire-lighting."
Chuckling, Harry agreed to tell his friends not to teach Elizabeth to light fires. Then he frowned. "My only doubts are that they are old, Denno, old. They may not wish to teach a mortal."
Only it seemed that Harry had not realized quite how old Elidir and Mechain were. They had been young in a time when Sidhe and mortal were far closer and they were quite enthusiastic about teaching a mortal child. Add in that Harry was ecstatic at the chance to see Elizabeth again, and they were all in Denoriel's house before he and Elizabeth arrived.
For the purpose of Elizabeth getting her own way, nothing could have been better. She arrived in her nightdress—because Denoriel had decided to take her Underhill while she was supposed to be asleep, thus saving any need for excuses for her absence—looking very small and frail. Harry enveloped her in his arms, and she clung to him, weeping a little with joy. That was more than enough to win her the elder Sidhes' favor; such sweet expressions of emotion were as nectar to their senses. Then he presented her to the two Sidhe. She curtsied prettily to each of them and asked what she should call them.
Denoriel almost groaned aloud as he saw delighted expressions begin to steal over their faces. It was plain in minutes that both were already enslaved and soon would be as besotted as Harry. Denoriel hurried Elizabeth upstairs to change her clothes, but it was already too late.
"Such a sweet child," he heard Elidir say.
"And clever too," Mechain added with a little sigh. "Did you see how bright were her eyes?"
Perhaps if Elizabeth had been slow to learn, they would have grown bored with her. But all her initial awkwardness with doing magic had been rubbed away by Tangwystl, and she responded with eager willingness to their gentler instruction. She learned Tanglefoot quickly, picking up the liquid syllables and repeating them together faultlessly—just as Denoriel was crossing the dining room. He tripped and would have fallen hard if he had not caught himself on the table.
Elizabeth jumped to her feet, her eyes wide, her hands across her mouth. Elidir laughed. Harry choked. Mechain apologized for not having noticed him.
She shook her head, her white hair flowing about her shoulders like a mist. "I should have warned Elizabeth that she must not look at anyone before starting the spell or it would take hold on that person. I am so sorry."
Denoriel gave Elizabeth an "I'll talk to you about this later" look but to Mechain he said, smiling, "She is full of mischief, this mortal, but I am very glad your teaching is bearing fruit."
"Her power is mostly locked within," Elidir said, frowning. "And I cannot see any way to reach it, but she is quick and clever at using what she can touch. With small spells—"
"Will not the one be enough?" Mechain asked. "The child is tired."
That was true. Elizabeth's eyes were heavy-lidded and her shoulders slumped.
"Bessie, why didn't you say you were tired?" Harry cried, going to stand beside her. "Here, love, I'll carry you up to your room and you can sleep. I forgot that Denno brought you here after a full day in the Upper World."
"But I want to learn the other spells," Elizabeth protested, tears coming to her eyes.
"And we want to teach them to you," Mechain said, reassuringly, also coming to her and stroking her hair. "Go up to bed now, sweet child, and we will decide whether to come again or to make this a longer visit. Fear not, Denoriel can return you to your bed an hour or so before dawn, no matter how many days you spend here."
Courteously, Denoriel asked whether waiting now for Elizabeth to wake and eat or returning at some other time would be better for Mechain and Elidir. Both laughed.
"We have little enough to do just now," Elidir said. "We have set traps in Alhambra and must wait some time to ease the suspicions of our enemies before we can spring them. El Dorado . . . that is another problem."
Mechain nodded. "None of us can think of a plan for dealing with the Great Evil. Sawel even brought a priest from the Upper World with his books and candles and holy water. I could swear it laughed . . ."
"Laughed?" Elidir repeated. "I could swear it and what the priest believed were of the same kind, only it was perverted into a kind of madness."
"So Sawel and others are studying what has been done to deal with the Great Evil in the past," Mechain said. "And we, who are not scholars but merely the hands that do the work, are free to teach that enchanting child how to protect herself. The question is what is best for her, and, of course, for you, Denoriel."
"My sole business of late is to guard Elizabeth." Not knowing how much Harry had told them, Denoriel explained the danger that threatened Elizabeth from the Unseleighe-driven forces, and from simple human envy. By that time, Harry had come down and reported that Elizabeth was sound asleep.
Some discussion followed on who must not learn of Elizabeth's absences, what the consequences of such a discovery would be, and how a discovery of the absences might occur. At last Elidir said, "How good is your control of time through the Gates, Denoriel? Could you bring her back before morning of the night you took her if we kept her here for some time?"
"I kept Harry for several sleeps—which were probably equivalent to that many days—and brought him back safely perhaps twelve mortal hours after I had taken him Underhill. I am better at magic now, but I would not want the mortal time to be more than ten hours, nine would be better. One more sleep would be safe. If time is compressed too much there can be ill effects on mortals."
Elidir looked at Mechain. "Will that be time enough?"
"It depends." Mechain turned her eyes on Denoriel and he saw how pale and grayed the green had become over the eons; nonetheless, the eyes were bright. "How much magic and how complex you want the child to have."
"As simple as possible and not dangerous. No fire-lighting," he said, just a little sternly. "You call her sweet, but that child has a temper to match the color of her hair and she is only a child. If she were a few years older, I would say to teach her anything her limited power could accomplish." He closed his eyes for a moment in thought. "Perhaps when she is older I will bring her back for more lessons, but for now I cannot trust her to moderate what she does. It would be best if she had only spells to delay or confound an attack on herself or her maid until she can scream for help. Remember, help is never far from the king's daughter. Her guardsmen are usually right outside her door."
"Then what would be best, I think, is to keep her here this time," Elidir said. "Coming and going is always more dangerous even in the World Above. Gates are not perfect, especially temporary ones, which you said you have set into her maid's chamber, so you want to use them as seldom as possible. Also if you were to be caught in the maid's room, that would be bad. Yes, we will also teach her gwthio-cilgwthio and what you call stickfoot, for now."
"She will confuse them," Mechain protested. "Several elements of both spells are similar." Then she nodded. "But, no, I know how we can do it in a short time. We can teach her the first spell as soon as she rises and has eaten. Then we will take her to look about Underhill a little. When she is rested and the gwthio-cilgwthio spell is cleared from her mind, we can teach her stickfoot."
Since Denoriel agreed that there was no sense in stressing his temporary Gate and that repeated coming and going would more likely be detected than a single absence, he accepted the plan. They ate a meal; Denoriel was able to explain more fully the FarSeers' predictions about the three future rulers. Eventually Harry went up to sleep in Denoriel's bed and the three Sidhe sat together talking.
When Elizabeth woke, she asked at once about the new spells, which made Elidir and Mechain marvel at her eagerness and application. She said she was accustomed to learning and that she took great pleasure in it, and there was no mistaking her pride—nor her certainty that she could master anything she put her mind to.
Mechain carefully explained that magic was different than anything she had learned until now. "A small mistake in a Latin translation only requires scraping out and correction; a small mistake in a spell can have disastrous results."
Elidir then told her their plan for making sure she had the spells well separated. She was delighted with the idea of seeing more of Underhill in between lessons, but what she really wanted to see, she told her doting Da and teachers, was one of the chaos lands. She wanted to see something created from the magical mists.
Elidir and Mechain were enchanted by the idea. Of course a mortal would be interested in creation, they said to each other and, she was Talented. She might even feel the power in the mists. They consulted seriously about which of the Unformed places they knew would be best. Denoriel urged an old one, thinned of most of its power. Elizabeth protested. Her besotted Da and his friends suggested a compromise.
There was a particular place that Elidir and Mechain had been using to create creatures that assisted them in their hunts in Alhambra and El Dorado. They knew the place to be particularly sensitive to creation, and although the beasts they had made were dangerous, they were quite certain that they had not allowed any of them to escape. In addition, the creatures were keyed not to attack them and, of course, Harry would stand by with his gun in case all else failed.
"And when you have created something for me, we can go to one of the markets, can we not?" Elizabeth asked, bright-eyed . . . and boldly biting off the whole hand since a finger had been offered. "And will you buy me something that I can bring back with me so I can remember you all better?" she begged pathetically.
"Of course I will—"
Denoriel sighed. That had been a chorus of three voices. But there were also expressions of surprise at what the child had said, and Denoriel murmured quickly, "Nic yn awr."
Later, while Elidir was teaching Elizabeth not only the spell but how to create it and store it, all except the invoking word, so it was ready for use in a moment, Denoriel drew Mechain aside and explained to her why Elizabeth had been convinced that nothing the Sidhe had was real in the World Above unless it was specially bespelled.
"If she is queen and hard pressed for funds, might she not come here to take home gold for her needs . . . if she believed the gold would save her realm?" he pointed out. "Even Queen Titania had that fear, and I think it is a wise one. I do not say she would wish to do it, but necessity is a hard master, and we cannot answer for what the adult will do that the child would never even consider."
"Mortals were not thus in the past," Mechain sighed. "Yet I know what you say is true, for it was mortals, driven by this perverted spirit, that destroyed Alhambra and El Dorado. It is sad to lie to a child, but a wise precaution."
Elidir, having completed his lesson, called Mechain to test Elizabeth's comprehension and accomplishment. They went out into the palace and found a few human servants upon whom Elizabeth could use gwthio-cilgwthio. First she sharply shoved an innocent boy, fortunately only carrying linens, down a long corridor so that the tablecloths flew every which way out of his arms. Mechain applauded the correct use of gwthio.
Next Elizabeth caused one of the mortal grooms in the stable to be unable to reach the manger he was going to clear, pushing him back every time he tried to step forward. That was an adequate demonstration of her understanding and use of cilgwthio. It was also, Mechain pointed out, a good example of the difference in result produced by one half syllable and a slightly higher tone of voice. Elizabeth took serious note of what Mechain said . . . and then pushed another groom so that he sat down suddenly in a pile of manure.
Mechain was laughing too much to reprove her charge adequately and she brought a happily giggling Elizabeth back, singing praises to how well the child had learned and how competently she had used the spells.
"I never doubted that she would learn," Denoriel said sourly. "Elizabeth learns everything well and easily, but did you tell her that she is only to use the spells when they are necessary for protection?"
Elizabeth sniffed.
Elidir chuckled and said, "She is only a child, Denoriel. A little playfulness . . ."
"A little playfulness in the mortal world could get her called 'witch' and send her to the gallows or the stake," Denoriel said sharply, then turned to her and added, "Did you hear me, Elizabeth? If people continually trip on their own feet, fall down stairs, or cannot reach a goal in your presence, the accidents will soon be connected with you. Think how quickly Stafford ran to report that you were meeting a man in the garden. Think what he would say if you were always present about so many 'accidents.' Nothing would protect you then. Think how many people would be pleased to call you 'witch'! And while you are at it, think about who would or could be accused of teaching you witchcraft, and what would happen to them!"
He did not remind her that her mother had been (and often was still) called a witch. That it was not on the charge of witchcraft, but adultery, that she had been executed was perhaps only because Henry had found "evidence" enough for the latter charge.
And Blanche was a witch. She would certainly go to the stake. Kat Champernowne might. Her faithful menservants might come in for accusation. And certainly her beloved tutors would. The stain might even spread upward, to the queen.
Elizabeth hung her head; Harry came close and put an arm around her. "Love, Denno's right. You need to be careful."
"I always need to be careful," Elizabeth said tearfully.
Harry dropped a kiss on her head. "I know—and I really do know. It was like that for me, too. It isn't much fun to be always watched and need to be careful. I wish there were something I could do, but even if I could live in the World Above I would be more harm than help. We could hardly ever be together and never alone—your enemies and mine would say we were conspiring against Prince Edward."
"Oh, I never would," Elizabeth cried. "Edward is my brother and a very good, sweet, little boy. I love him."
"You know that and I know that," Harry said sadly. "I never wanted to be king. It made my skin crawl to think of bearing that burden. But no one ever believed me."
"You never wanted to be king, Da?" she asked, sounding surprised.
"No, love." Harry kissed her again, this time on the forehead. "I would have been a very bad king. I would never have been able to do anything to curb or reprove a friend, and soon, I think, the nobles would have been having their own way of it, quarreling among themselves, tearing England apart, and leaving us open to our enemies. You are different, I think. I believe you would not wish harm to Edward, but there is something in you . . ." He shook his head. "I think others see it too. I think you would make a good king—yes, I say king, because you have the stomach of a king, and would need no man beside you to rule. Because of that, you must be even more careful than I was. Listen to Denno and Alana."
Elizabeth sighed, and a single tear ran down her cheek. "I do. I do. But it isn't any fun."
Elidir and Mechain, who had been watching and listening, now came close. Mechain wiped the tear from Elizabeth's cheek and Elidir said, "I am sure Denoriel and Harry have given you advice it would be wise to follow in the World Above, but now you are Underhill with us, and there is no reason at all why you should not have all the play and pleasure you want."
Elizabeth stared at Elidir for a moment with a look of surprise, but then she smiled and took the hand he held out to her. "That is true!" she exclaimed. "Here in Underhill it does not matter that I am King Henry's daughter. Here I can just be Elizabeth."
Denoriel's lips parted to warn her that Underhill could be as dangerous to her as the World Above, but she looked so young and full of joy, her mouth soft and smiling instead of drawn into a tense line, her eyes wide with anticipation. He could not spoil the little while she had to be a carefree child. He would be doubly wary, he told himself, as they all left his apartment.
When they stepped out onto the portico of Llachar Lle, there were four elvensteeds waiting at the foot of the steps. Lady Aeron's delicate blue and Miralys's ebon black contrasted with the pale dappled silver and pearly white of the other two steeds. They were as perfect of form as Harry's and Denoriel's mounts, but something about them, like the faded eyes of their riders, hinted of long millennia of living.
Harry took Elizabeth up on Lady Aeron before Denoriel reached them, the elvensteed providing a comfortable pillion before she was even asked.
"I need to get my gun," Harry called back.
So they all rode to Mwynwen's house. She did not come out to greet them but Harry explained when he emerged, loading several of the flat, top-seated cartridges with iron bolts, that she was gone to help Ceindrych with a difficult patient. Before he mounted, he slid the gun and cartridges into a spelled holder which he fastened to his belt. Once inside, the weapon and its iron bolts caused no discomfort, but the holder would allow Harry to draw the gun and its cartridges at a word.
Harry offered drink or food, but had no takers. They had all eaten when Elizabeth had broken her fast. So then they were off again, Elidir and Mechain leading this time.
An old Gate not far from the Healers' houses took them to a quiet, pleasant hold. The ground was gently rolling, covered with the ubiquitous soft green moss and small white flowers. Graceful trees leaned gently this way and that, some standing alone, some in elegant groups, their trailing leaves rustling gently. A narrow brook followed the gentle valleys; wildflowers grew on the banks. Here and there was a glimpse of a tiled roof, a white wall.
"Old Elves Hame," Elidir said with a wry twist of the lips. "Perfect in every way. The ideal place to be bored into Dreaming, but—"
At which moment a loud explosion rent the air. Everyone jumped. Even the elvensteeds looked startled.
"Oh, my," Mechain said. "Sawel must have done something thoroughly unacceptable to the holy water."
"Shall I go and see if he's all right?" Denoriel asked.
"It can't hurt him," Elidir said, "but he might have to rebuild his house."
Elizabeth giggled. "It seems lively enough here to me. Can we go see the exploded house?"
"Better not," Mechain said. "Sawel will be in a temper. Besides, there really isn't anything to see. When the spells holding the house together are broken, it just disappears. And the last time, all Sawel's clothes disappeared too." She smiled, looking ridiculously youthful despite the faded eyes and thin, mist-white hair. "You're a little too young for that, sweetling."
"And it doesn't do much good for Sawel's disposition either," Elidir remarked. "Doubtless there are going to be a lot of toads and worms around until his curses wear off. We'd better just go on and show Elizabeth how to make something nice out of mist. All ready? I'll spell us through. The terminus Gate is smaller, but the area around it is safe so anyone can step off."
Again there was that brief sensation of falling and utter blackness, but this time Elizabeth was not in the least afraid. She could feel Lady Aeron's silky side against her ankle where her skirt had hiked up and her arms were firmly around her Da's waist. And, of course, she had hardly enough time to think of it when they were out into a real pea-soup of a fog. Lady Aeron stepped delicately down from the Gate. Miralys, who had been behind her, stepped down to her right, and Elidir and Mechain on their steeds came down to the left immediately after.
"So, this, my dear, is an Unformed land. Now we dismount and walk a little way into mist," Elidir said, suiting his action to his words.
Harry set Elizabeth on her feet but kept a grip on her hand. "Don't wander away without holding on to me or to Denno," he said. "The mist is very thick and can thicken even more. And it makes sound very deceptive, so if you get lost it will take us a long time to find you."
"I won't get lost," Elizabeth said. "If we do get separated, don't worry. I'll just come back to the Gate and wait right here for you."
"You won't be able to see the Gate," Denoriel warned, coming up from the side. "A few steps away and it will seem to disappear."
Elizabeth did not argue, partly because she wasn't sure how to explain why she was certain she could find the Gate again. Besides, she was very happy holding Harry's hand and feeling like any little girl with a doting relative. She skipped after Elidir and Mechain, who could just be made out through the swirling mists.
"Let her come between us," Mechain said, "so she can see what we do. And you, Harry, just step off to the side where you will have a clear shot at anything coming at us. Denoriel, if you will go to the left and stand ready with your sword, we will be grateful."
"I thought you said you had cleaned out the inimical creatures," Denoriel said, drawing his sword.
"We are reasonably sure we did, but a really creative mist like this one . . . I have sometimes felt we took away more than we had designed."
"You mean the mist created more by itself?"
"I don't know." Elidir sounded troubled. "Possibly it just echoed what I was doing. Possibly . . . No." He shook his head at Denoriel and turned toward Elizabeth. "Now what would you like us to make, love?"
"A bird," Elizabeth said promptly.
Just as promptly the mist roiled differently. A patch just before Elidir pinched off from the main mass and began to curl around and around. Wide-eyed, Elizabeth watched. She could feel a kind of pressure, not unlike the pressure she felt when creating a shield, but yet different.
There was something behind the pressure, a willing. As soon as she identified what she felt, Elizabeth almost called up her shield. She had felt that willing before, when the bad Sidhe that looked so much like Denoriel had tried to kill her in the garden. But now the willing was not directed at her; it was causing the pinched off bit of mist to grow more solid and, as it solidified, to change.
Indistinct at first but becoming clearer and more defined, wide wings spread. An indefinite blob soon had huge glowing eyes, a cruel hooked beak. Feathers fluffed, feathered legs under an oval body now showed long, sharp talons that opened and closed spasmodically.
An owl. A very large owl, bigger than any such beast that Elizabeth had ever seen before. She was used to the comical, monkey-faced barn owls that lived in every stable in the country, but this was four, five times the size of one of those. This one had enormous yellow eyes, not dark eyes, and two hornlike tufts of feathers on the top of its head. Elizabeth took an involuntary step backward.
"Whhooo," the bird cried.
The wings flapped, very silently. The bird rose into the air, circled, uttered its questioning cry again, and flew off. Elizabeth watched, lips parted with wonder, eyes wide.
"Ah!" Elidir shook his head. "I had meant to make a smaller bird, but it has become such a habit to make hunting beasts—"
"It was beautiful," Elizabeth breathed, then looked concerned. "But will it find anything to eat here? The place looks so barren."
"While it is here, it will not need food," Mechain said. "It will draw in power and sustenance from the mist."
Still Elizabeth frowned. "I know it is said that owls are very wise. Will the poor bird not be bored to death being all alone and having nothing to do?"
"We will not leave it here long," Elidir assured her. "We will transport it to a place where it will find enough to hunt. Now, what else would you like to have made?"
Elizabeth giggled. "A rabbit? I do not think you will be able to make that into anything fierce—but if you can, I would surely like to see a fierce rabbit."
There was a stirring in the mist off to the left that went against the general drift and curl. Denoriel lifted his sword and stepped forward toward the denser spot. Elizabeth felt a sharp prod of will, again not directed at her, and the mist flowed smoothly again.
"I do not think a rabbit would last long in this mist-land," Mechain said. "Perhaps you would like a bouquet of flowers?"
"Then I would have to carry them." Elizabeth giggled again. "How about a little patch of garden, right here where we stand. That would be a great surprise to anyone who came to this Gate."
"Hmmm. And a pleasant place for us to sit while we work, but not easy to do. Let me talk to Elidir about this."
Elizabeth obligingly moved toward Harry so the two Sidhe could be closer together. He was well off to the side, just visible in the mist. She started to speak to him, but he was watching the mist intently, his gun in his hand. Elizabeth looked out at the mist too. There, not far from her a patch seemed somehow a little separate. She looked at it, imagining upright pointed ears, large bright eyes, a rounded furry body, four legs, a long fluffy tail . . . and wings.
She saw an adorable kitten. Elizabeth liked kittens. She wished the kitten was real, wished hard . . . And there was a flapping noise and a kitten plopped into her arms.
Simultaneously she heard Elidir and Mechain call her name and the next moment they came running out of the mist with Denoriel on their heels.
"What happened?" Mechain cried. "We felt the mists wrenched, as if in birthing, but we had willed nothing. Has something threatened you?"
Elizabeth laughed and held out the kitten. "I think I made this."
There was a moment of stunned silence and then Elidir whispered, "You think you created a . . . a living thing?"
Bright-eyed and grinning, Elizabeth explained how Harry was too intent on his guard duty to talk to her and how she thought she saw two pointed ears. When she got to the kitten popping into her arms, she shook her head.
"Poor thing," she said, "it's the color of the mist. I never got around to thinking of colors for it."
"It doesn't need color," Mechain said, tickling the kitten's head. "That silvery beige is very pretty."
Elizabeth had settled the kitten comfortably in the crook of her arm and now looked at Denoriel. "Can I keep it, Denno? Could your servants take care of it, or maybe Lady Alana? I know I can't take it home, but it wouldn't be safe to leave it here. The owl would get it, or one of the things Da is watching out for. It isn't mean. It likes people."
"So I see," Denoriel said. "Did you really create that, Elizabeth? Or is this something you and your new friends cooked up to tease me?"
"No, Lord Denoriel," Elidir said. "I swear on the Great Mother that Mechain and I were surprised half out of our wits when we felt a making taking place. "And we felt it from the direction in which we had sent Elizabeth to be with Harry. We both called her name and ran to where we thought she must be. It had to have been her making."
"Indeed it is her making," Mechain added. "There is no other Sidhe in this place, only you and we two." She looked around in a worried way, met and held Elidir's eyes, and then said, "We will not make that garden here. Perhaps this mist has been used too often."
"And I think Elizabeth has seen quite enough of the chaos lands," Elidir said, eyeing the kitten. "Perhaps we should move on to the Goblin Fair now."
Mechain cleared her throat. "I've lost the Gate," she said, reluctantly. "I'll need a little while to orient myself—"
"It's that way," Elizabeth interrupted, pointing.
"That way," Elidir repeated, his gaze fixed on Elizabeth, his voice flat.
"Likely it is," Harry said, grinning. "Elizabeth has odd Talents. She can see through illusion—"
"Not here," Elizabeth remarked. "I see the meadow and the trees and the manor out of Denno's windows just like everyone else, and he says that's an illusion. And I don't see the Gate. There's just a place where I feel the mist isn't and a humming. I think that's the Gate. That's what it felt like when we stepped out of it."
Mechain, Elidir, and Denoriel all stared at her as if she had grown an extra head. Elizabeth looked from one to the other anxiously, wondering for the first time if she had done something wrong. Then Harry came up behind her, put his arm around her waist and swept her forward in the direction she had pointed.
"Never mind, love," he said laughing. "They are only wondering why they never thought of feeling for the Gate."
Mechain cleared her throat again. "That's true, young mortal. We can see an open Gate, and that is what we look for. Once you pointed out the effect of the power of the Gate, we too could feel it. Just, we never connected the concentration of power with the Gate."
By the time Mechain finished speaking, the Gate was in sight with the four elvensteeds grouped around it, grazing.
"Grazing?" Mechain said. "From whence came the grass? Elidir, does it seem to you that we should look for a different Unformed place?"
"Yes. Yes indeed." Elidir agreed. "Grazing. But there was no grass when we came." He sighed, looked at Elizabeth accusingly.
"It wasn't me," she protested. "God's Grace, I was nowhere near. It wasn't me."
They all looked suspiciously at the elvensteeds, who ignored them and continued to crop grass. Then they all looked out at the mist, but it was behaving in a perfectly normal way.
After a few moments, Elizabeth sighed heavily and then asked plaintively, "Can we go to the market now?"