"Why?" Enguerrand was saying to Aude. "Why is his soul not at rest? Why has he come back to haunt me?"

"Who did you think you saw?" Andrei sat down beside them.

"Ruaud de Lanvaux." Enguerrand turned to stare at him with sleep-starved eyes. "He tried to exorcise the daemon and I-no, Nilaihah-murdered him. His blood is on my conscience."

"A vengeful ghost?" Andrei was still skeptical.

"Why don't we have Pere Laorans say prayers for his soul?" Aude suggested and Andrei saw Enguerrand's anguished expression relax a little.

"Oh yes, Aude, thank you..." The king lay back, evidently exhausted by his outburst. Aude met Andrei's eyes in the pale dawn-light.

"He wasn't imagining it," she said softly. "I saw the ghost too; and if it wasn't Maistre de Lanvaux, then it was a very clever spirit to copy his likeness so exactly."

Andrei said nothing, but he knew that for the practical Aude to have admitted that she had recognized the ghost, it could not have been a hallucination. As to what the ghost's appearance meant, however, he could not begin to imagine. It had left him with a chill, unsettled feeling, as if there were unforeseen consequences to the destruction of the Serpent Gate that were only now beginning to make themselves apparent.

It was exhausting working in the late afternoon, even after the fiercest heat of the day had dissipated. But to build new huts, the islanders needed timber, so even the princes of Rossiya joined in with the tree-felling.

Andrei stopped to wipe the dripping sweat from his eyes.

"Slacking again, Orlov?" Oskar jeered. He had stripped to the waist and was swinging his axe with skill, expertly splitting the wood.

"Mon pere, look!" One of the little boys came hurtling past, screaming out at the top of his voice. "Look up. There's a man in a flying boat!"

Andrei dropped his axe. Oskar shaded his eyes to gaze at the sky. Aude came running out of the hospital hut. There was nothing to be seen above the tops of the trees but a line of little white clouds, fine as thistledown.

"Those children have vivid imaginations." Andrei bent to pick up his axe, wishing that he had not been foolish enough to dare to hope. Oskar began to swing his axe again with renewed fury, chips of bark flying out at all angles.

It must have been a half hour or so later when the village dogs started to yap excitedly.

"Someone's coming," said Oskar warningly to Andrei. Both men picked up their axes and went to the edge of the clearing. There had been rumors of pirates and Andrei was only too aware how vulnerable to attack the little community was.

Walking slowly toward them came a white-haired man, his long wispy beard stirred by the first evening breeze off the sea.

Andrei stared, then rubbed his eyes. Was it a mirage... or another revenant? The old man looked frail and walked with a halting gait, as if his bones ached, but he was no illusion.

"Magus!" Andrei hailed him. He had never thought he would be so glad to see Kaspar Linnaius in his life.

Linnaius stopped. He peered at Andrei. "Your highness is alive!" He nodded, approvingly. "This is good news indeed. Your sister has been sick with worry."

"So she sent you to look for me?" Andrei was greatly touched at the thought that Astasia still cared for him, in spite of the ordeal that he and his Drakhaoul had subjected her to.

"The Emperor charged me to search for you all."

"And what provoked this sudden change of heart?" Oskar, his shirt slung over his bare shoulders, came over to Andrei's side.

"You must be tired, Magus. Please come and rest in the shade." Andrei led the way up the dirt track as the village children followed, curious to see the old man who had arrived in a flying boat, whispering and giggling, their dark eyes round with wonder.

"They think we're dead?" dead?" Enguerrand raised his head from the pillow; Aude went to help him. Enguerrand raised his head from the pillow; Aude went to help him.

"The first ships bringing aid from the west are still far off. And I've been searching for you for many days, going from island to island."

"So it was a.s.sumed that we all drowned?"

"Ty Nagar is gone." Linnaius took a sip of his cinnamon tea. "From what I could see, a ma.s.sive volcanic eruption split the island in two and sank it beneath the waves."

"How has my mother taken the news?" Enguerrand asked.

"Your mother has invited your brother-in-law, Ilsevir, to succeed to the throne in your place. The coronation is probably taking place as we speak."

"What!" Enguerrand sat bolt upright. "How dare she!" Enguerrand sat bolt upright. "How dare she!"

"No one is more keen to see you restored to the throne of Francia than the Emperor," Linnaius said diplomatically. "He is reluctant to recognize Ilsevir as joint ruler of Francia and Allegonde. He has a proposition to put to you-"

"I will not get involved in the Emperor's political machinations! Does Eugene think I'm incapable of setting my own house in order?" Enguerrand, exhausted by his outburst, dropped back. "I insist that you take me straight back to Lutece."

Linnaius sighed; he was weary of indulging these young princes and their petulant outbursts. He was tempted to remind Enguerrand that if it were not for the Emperor's intervention, there would be no hope of rescue for many weeks. "Would you prefer to wait for the Rossiyan fleet to arrive, majesty? They're still some way off and the journey back to Francia will take them at least five months."

CHAPTER 15.

It was past midnight by the time Celestine reached her lodgings. She was greeted by her landlady's three black-and-white cats, who frisked about her skirts, purring and rubbing their heads against her hand when she bent to stroke them. The performance had gone well enough that evening, but Gauzia was becoming increasingly difficult, resorting to little scene-stealing tricks, conducting elaborate business behind her back as she was singing, provoking sn.i.g.g.e.rs from some of the audience. She had even stooped so low as to encourage her clique of followers to chatter noisily during Celestine's first aria, leading to loud shushing, then shouts of disapproval from Celestine's staunchest admirers. Afterward, Grebin had summoned both women to his office and given them a stern lecture.

"I don't want a riot on my hands, ladies, no matter how strongly your admirers feel about your relative charms. Riots are expensive!" Grebin glared at them both. "And of course I would have to withhold your fees to cover the cost of repairs to the theater."

There were only eight more performances to be endured before Gauzia and her entourage were due to travel on to Tielborg. Celestine couldn't wait to be rid of her. Although once Gauzia was gone, there was no guarantee Grebin would give her a part in the next opera. It was rumored that Anna Krylova was making a good recovery, so Celestine fully expected that she would be demoted to the chorus once more.

She unlocked the door to her little room then stopped on the threshold. The figure of a man was silhouetted against a skim of pale moonlight. A burglar? A burglar? She felt the Faie tense, ready to defend her. She felt the Faie tense, ready to defend her.

The intruder turned toward her and she took a step back as the uncertain moonlight brightened, revealing the soft grey eyes and honey-fair hair of her dead lover. The cats turned tail and fled down the stairs.

"Henri?" she said, retreating. "What are you doing here?" It couldn't be Henri; Henri was dead. Unless this was...

" Who are you?" Who are you?" He stared at her. He stared at her. "You sound like my Celestine... but I don't recognize you. "You sound like my Celestine... but I don't recognize you."

"Faie!" Celestine cried. "Change me back."

"Be careful, Celestine; this is nothing but a revenant, a mere shadow of your lost love-"

"I don't care. Change me back now." And as the Faie's glamour fell away from her, she saw his bewildered expression fade and alter, smiling as he recognized her. He held out his hands. She started forward, only to feel the Faie check her.

"Don't go to him. Don't go any closer."

"Henri? What are you doing here?" Celestine ached to run into his arms.

"I had to see you. I had to know that you were all right. There's so much I need to tell you."

And suddenly she knew that she could not bear to hear it. It had taken so long to heal the wounds left by his death and just the sound of his voice made the desolation of loss wash over her once more. "No," she whispered. "No, this can't be happening. You're a dream. The dead don't return."

A cloud pa.s.sed across the face of the moon, casting the attic into sudden darkness. When the moonlight brightened again, the revenant had gone. But a faint, charnel taint lingered in the air that reminded Celestine of the damp crypt of Saint Meriadec's. She lit the little lamp, hoping that its glow would chase the lingering shadows from the room. Yet as its wavering flame burned more brightly, it brought her no cheer or consolation. She noticed that the table on which it stood was covered in a layer of gritty dust, as if the landlady had not cleaned in weeks. Celestine ran her finger along the wood and, as the fine particles sifted through her fingers, she heard the Faie murmuring over and over to herself, "No. This can't be happening." "No. This can't be happening."

"What is this dust, Faie? Tell me. No matter how horrible it is, I need to know."

"This dust has blown in from the Realm of Shadows. When the soul leaves the physical body behind, it's imprinted with its last, strongest emotion. Imprinted, almost always, with the feelings that mortal person bore for another: child, parent, lover..." strongest emotion. Imprinted, almost always, with the feelings that mortal person bore for another: child, parent, lover..."

Celestine nodded. A terrible sadness had begun to well up within her.

"And those feelings are often mixed with regret. A life cut short before its time, words left unsaid, yearnings never adequately expressed. That was why I sang. I sang to ease those regrets, to soothe those unfulfilled hopes and dreams, to take away the bitterness and reveal the way through the shadows to the light beyond."

"'Blessed Azilia, let thy light shine through the darkness and show us the way to paradise,'" whispered Celestine. It was the ancient Vesper Prayer of the Knights of the Commanderie. Never, until now, had she understood the profound implications of those simple words. whispered Celestine. It was the ancient Vesper Prayer of the Knights of the Commanderie. Never, until now, had she understood the profound implications of those simple words.

"Who are are you, Faie? Are you Azilis? Was Linnaius telling the truth after all?" you, Faie? Are you Azilis? Was Linnaius telling the truth after all?"

"There has been no one to sing for the dead since Linnaius took me away from Ondhessar. And in that time, so many souls have become lost in the Ways Beyond, held back by their regrets and their unfulfilled dreams."

"So Henri came back to me, because he's become a lost soul?" The thought caused her so much heartache that she could hardly articulate the words. "I hoped that-at least-he might be at peace. I can't bear to think that he's been suffering all this time. I have to help him; I can't leave him wandering like this." As she was speaking she had begun to realize the sacrifice she might have to make for the sake of her dead lover. "Faie-if you returned to Ondhessar, would you be able to set Henri's soul free from wandering this world? And all those other lost souls?"

The Faie was silent a long while. "But if I return to the Rift," "But if I return to the Rift," she said eventually, she said eventually, "I won't be able to protect you anymore. Let me stay with you a little longer." "I won't be able to protect you anymore. Let me stay with you a little longer."

Celestine gazed into the translucent eyes of her guardian spirit. In all the years they had been together, she had never imagined that one day they would have to part. But even though the thought of having to live alone and unprotected terrified her, the wish to bring peace to Henri's wandering spirit was stronger.

"I want you to help me to lay his ghost," she said. "And if that means going to Ondhessar, dear Faie, then I'll find a way to take you there."

"Let me stay with you just a little longer." Azilis's voice become so soft, so persuasive, that it was like a mother's caress. Azilis's voice become so soft, so persuasive, that it was like a mother's caress. "Let me know that you, my dearest child, have found fulfillment... so that when I have to go back into the darkness, I have happy memories of my time here with you to sustain me." "Let me know that you, my dearest child, have found fulfillment... so that when I have to go back into the darkness, I have happy memories of my time here with you to sustain me."

Celestine felt her will wavering. Azilis must be using her powers to influence her. Had she become too attached to the mortal world? Had she found the brief second taste of life too seductive, too tasty, to give up? Every night that Celestine went out onstage to sing, she had sensed Azilis wake within her, living the music, experiencing every note, every nuance of feeling, as if it were her own. "Then I'll wait until the final performance of A Spring Elopement A Spring Elopement is over," she promised her, knowing full well how hard it was going to be to say farewell to her dearest Faie. is over," she promised her, knowing full well how hard it was going to be to say farewell to her dearest Faie.

CHAPTER 16.

Spring had come early to Francia, and as the royal coach bearing the Prince and Princess of Allegonde entered the long avenue leading up to Plaisaunces, pale petals drifted down from the cloudy sky, borne on the breeze from the walled palace gardens.

Adele raised the blind of the carriage and gazed out. The people had gathered to watch the procession but they were silent, standing behind the cordon formed by the soldiers of the palace guard.

On his side of the carriage, Ilsevir waved his hand, but no cheers arose to greet him.

"They seem rather subdued, my new subjects," he observed in a dejected tone that Adele knew meant that his feelings were hurt.

"They're still in mourning for my brother," she said diplomatically. "I'm sure they'll cheer loudly enough after the coronation." But she had noticed the significantly high numbers of guards lining the route; Chancellor Aiguillon must have antic.i.p.ated trouble. The vague feeling of unhappiness that had been troubling her since they crossed the mountains and entered her home country increased. They had not even smiled at her, and she was a princess of the realm, Gobain's daughter. Did they resent her as much as her husband?

Queen Alienor was seated on a dais in the Salle des Chevaliers, beneath the brightly colored shields and banners of the four ancient duchies of Francia. All the ministers were gathered around her, including at her right hand, Adele noticed, Hugues Donatien, reappointed Grand Maistre of the Commanderie. In stark contrast to the vibrant banners, all were soberly dressed in mourning black.

Trust Maman to turn our arrival into a theatrical performance, she thought, wincing as trumpeters appeared on the musicians' gallery to blow a deafening fanfare. All she wanted was a cup of tea and a long bath to soak away the stiffness of travel. she thought, wincing as trumpeters appeared on the musicians' gallery to blow a deafening fanfare. All she wanted was a cup of tea and a long bath to soak away the stiffness of travel.

"Welcome, your majesty." Alienor rose to greet them and as all the dignitaries bowed low, Ilsevir went up onto the dais to kiss his mother-in-law. Adele dutifully followed.

"You look peaky, Adele," Alienor said as she brushed her cheek with her lips. "You'd better sit down."

"It's been a long journey, Madame," said Adele, forcing a smile, but she sat beside her mother, hoping that Alienor would focus all her attention on Ilsevir, giving her a little time to recover.

"The plans for the coronation are ready for your approval, your majesty." Chancellor Aiguillon bowed to Prince Ilsevir as he held out a bound folder.

"Let's see." Ilsevir took the folder and opened it, leafing through the pages. "The procession to the cathedral will begin at nine in the morning..."

Adele half listened as Ilsevir read aloud the order of service. She was lost in a memory of Enguerrand's coronation, and the recollection of her brother-his bespectacled face earnest and radiant, as the archbishop placed the crown on his dark head-made her eyes sting with tears.

Why did you have to go so far away to carry out your charitable good works? Why couldn't you have stayed here, safe in your own country?

"And while the bishops and other priests process up the aisle carrying the crown, the choir will sing," Ilsevir was saying. "An anthem by Talfieri, Adele? Or one of your Francian composers?"

"Surely a Francian would be best," she said swiftly. And then, lost in the memory again, "with a Francian soloist. I'd love it if Celestine de Joyeuse..." Her voice faded out as she became aware that all the ministers were looking at her oddly.

"Your highness may not be aware that Demoiselle de Joyeuse is a wanted criminal," said Maistre Donatien coldly.

Adele stared at him. "You must be mistaken, Maistre," she said. "Celestine is a good and loyal friend of mine."

"I fear that even good friends may be swayed by the lure of the Forbidden Arts. The demoiselle has been practicing dark magic."

"That must be slander! Vicious slander put about by one of her jealous rivals." Adele was incensed that Celestine's reputation had been tarnished by such ugly rumors.

"We have proof, your highness."

Adele turned her head away, determined not to listen to Maistre Donatien any longer; he was her mother's confidant and, she was certain now, not to be trusted.

"Official mourning for Enguerrand will end in a week's time," said Alienor. Adele stared at the floor. How could her mother speak so calmly and coldly about her son's death? Even hearing the words had brought the tears to her eyes again and she was fighting to hold them back, willing herself not to weep in front of Alienor and the ministers.

There came a sudden clatter of hooves outside and the sound of shouting shattered the awkward silence.

"I demand to see my cousin! Let me through!"

The great doors at the far end of the Salle des Chevaliers burst open. The guards thrust their halberds across the opening, creating a barrier. A grey-haired, broad-shouldered man strained against them.

Alienor rose. "Raimon?" she said in a voice sharp as steel. "What are you doing here?"

Ilsevir retreated behind his wife's chair. "Who is this rude man?" he whispered nervously in her ear.

"The Duc de Provenca," Adele whispered back. She had not seen her father's cousin in many years.

"Where's my daughter? Where is Aude?" bellowed the duke.