Lost in the Caverns (eBook)

Chapter 1

A Light in the Darkness

Lily lingered beside Pax’s tomb as the moon rose. She could still feel the hot, foul breath of the shrouds in the air around her, a reminder of how they had encircled her and mocked the fallen prince. She shivered and remembered how the gloom of the Blight had rolled back and the Realm bloomed with life again, scattering the shrouds like scraps of burnt paper. Barth was restored to human form. Scallywag was healed. Keisha and Adam had gone home, but Lily had decided that her place, for a time, was in the Realm. She was an artisan, and she would rebuild what the Blight had broken.

She placed a hand on the cool glass of the tomb. The moonlight cast a pearly sheen over the valley, lighting up the new flowers and trees as if they were fireflies. The beauty of it crashed against her pain like waves against the shore. I know you’re still with us, Lily thought, pushing back tears. Although I wish I could see you.

Suddenly a great crack like thunder split the air, and the ground shook. Lily stumbled backward and shielded her eyes as the tomb glowed, its glass branches sprawling like white lightning against the night sky. A fracture split the tomb from top to bottom, and light pierced through and flooded the valley, bathing every petal and blade of grass in daylight.

The glare stung Lily’s eyes, as if she’d gazed for too long at the sun, and she hid her face in the crook of her elbow. The warmth of a spring morning suddenly chased away the chill. Music drifted on the wind, and Lily strained to hear. Are the winds singing? As if in answer, a breeze tousled her hair, and the voices sang barely above a whisper. They are! The winds are singing! Though she didn’t recognize their language, their song played in time with the deepest strummings of her heart.

As the light softened, Lily raised her head. The radiance had ebbed from the reaches of the valley, and night again crowded around her. A cold glitter of stars shone above. Then the source of the light snapped into form.

“Pax!”

The great unicorn reared skyward, his horn slicing the night like a new blade drawn from its sheath. As his hooves struck the ground, Lily fought to steady herself against the tremors that rattled the earth. His light stung her eyes, like the glare of daybreak reflected off a lake. With tears streaming down her face she rushed toward him, threw her arms around him, and buried her face in his neck.

“Don’t cling to me, young artisan,” Pax said with a laugh.

She fumbled to untangle her fingers from his mane. “I thought you’d died,” she whispered. “I thought you were gone forever.”

“I did die, dear one. But forever is under my authority.”

“But how—”

A clatter interrupted her, and they turned to see Isla standing at the entrance to her home, her eyes wide with shock and a clay bowl of blackberries broken at her feet. At the sight of Pax she dropped to her knees. “Forgive me, lord,” she said.

Pax strode toward her. “Rise, Isla.”

“I am unworthy. You died because of my wickedness. The draught, the Blight, I had a hand in all of it.”

“I took the Sovran Merrow’s draught willingly, Isla, for you and for all the Realm. I paid the penalty.” He nuzzled her. “You are forgiven, Princess Isla.”

Isla stood, her eyes shimmering, and wiped the tears from her face. A smile broke through, and she gazed at the unicorn in wonder.

“Shall we dine now?” Pax said.

Isla’s face fell. “Oh, of course, my lord. But we only have what my brother and I could gather from the forest, and it’s not much.”

“It’s more than you think. Go and see.”

Pax guided them through the laurel-trimmed doorway of the cottage. They entered a kitchen, where roots and dried herbs hung in clusters from a ceiling of latticed willow boughs. A row of terra-cotta bowls filled with nuts and berries awaited them on a bench, and a fire crackling in the hearth bathed the room in a golden glow. Lily’s gaze flitted over these delights for a moment, before a heavy oaken table in the center of the room drew her eye. There, heaped atop silver platters, sprawled the most magnificent feast she had ever seen. Pyramids of fruit rose toward the ceiling, roasted meats and vegetables perfumed the room with rosemary and sage, and a basket overflowed with fresh bread from which tendrils of steam still coiled. In one corner a cake decorated with strawberries nestled among pastries, cookies, and the most beautiful blackberry pie, with a crust carved in the shapes of doves and stars. In another corner, Lily spotted a plate overflowing with spaghetti and meatballs and a glass dish filled exclusively with purple jelly beans. Her favorite.

Isla appeared from behind and gasped, then reprimanded her younger brother, Rowan, who had already drawn a chair up to the table and was tucking into a bowl of raspberry custard. The young lad froze when he saw Pax, a spoon with a blob of pink custard suspended in air.

“Good evening, Prince Rowan,” Pax said. “May I dine with you?”

Rowan gaped at him.

“Rowan, answer!” Isla whispered.

Before he could reply, something scuffled by Rowan’s feet under the table. He sprang back, his spoon clanged to the floor, and the dish followed, splattering pink custard all over the lace tablecloth.

“Get out, you grubby beast!” Rowan yelled, swiping at something with his foot.

Philippe the rabbit bounded out from beneath the table, his top hat clutched in his front paws. “Pardon, monsieur! I am sorry to intrude! It is just that when I saw the carrots I could not resist. They are candied in syrup, no?”

“Get out!”

“Rowan!” Isla said.

“He’s stealing our food!”

“He’s our guest!”

“Our guest? He’s a filthy rodent!”

“Prince Rowan, do not deny the rabbit his place.” Pax stepped into the room, his radiance drowning out even the glow of the firelight.

“I didn’t invite him,” Rowan said between clenched teeth.

Pax’s gaze hardened. “Yet I did invite him. And whomever I call always has a place at the table.” With these words a chill wind swept through the cottage as if churned up from a gale over the sea. Rowan’s cheeks flushed, and without a word he rushed from the room.

“Espy, please,” Isla called after him, but he ignored her and tromped out.

Lily slouched toward her jelly beans during the argument. She wanted to ask what the nickname “Espy” meant, but decided to keep mum. She felt the sting of Keisha’s absence; the right words always seemed to come more quickly to her newfound friend with the notebook at her hip.

Pax nuzzled Isla’s cheek. “Do not despair,” he said. “Your brother is astray, but he is not lost.”

“I don’t know how I’m going to help him through this. Our mother was always the only one who could ever reach him,” Isla said.

“Your brother awoke to find everyone and everything dear to him suddenly gone. Such wounds don’t heal easily. But be at peace—they will heal.”

Isla sank deep into thought, and a silence fell upon the room, with only the crackle of the fire and the song of crickets breaking the quiet. As Lily watched Isla, her eyes downcast in sorrow, the last shreds of anger and bitterness she’d once harbored against the princess withered away. She’d hated Isla for betraying her father, but Pax had forgiven the princess for far worse offenses. How could Lily not forgive her, too?

Philippe, a quivering puffball of fur, finally ventured from behind the table. “Merci beaucoup, mon prince,” he said tentatively, his paws trembling and his ears skimming the floor as he bowed before Pax. “Enchanté—”

“No need for formalities, Philippe,” Pax said. “You are most welcome here, as are your friends.”

“Friends?” Lily asked.

Pax nodded, and suddenly Glorf rolled out from under the table. Mortimer the fuzzy turtle joined him, as did Sheila the pterodactyl, who swept upward to roost on a willow bough.

Pax laughed at Lily’s surprise, then invited them to give thanks and eat. They dined in the glow of the firelight as lightning bugs spun streamers outside the windows, and Pax told them old stories of things long forgotten, when the Realm first hatched from the minds of men, and even before, when the waking world had yet to spin on its axis. Lily would pause between bites of pasta to stare at Pax in awe as the images he wove unfurled like banners in her mind. In his presence, the loneliness that always stalked her like a shadow had gone, and for a delicious moment she reveled in a quiet joy. The moment reminded her of the times she’d hunched over a cup of hot cocoa after sledding outside, or when twinkling lights dazzled her on Christmas Eve. At long last, she felt home.

After a while, when the clink of spoons and the chatter of conversation hushed, Lily mustered the courage to ask the question burning in all their minds. “Pax, are you back for good now?”

All eyes turned to the prince. Isla leaned forward, and even Philippe, who hadn’t stopped chewing since Pax invited him to the table, paused his crunching to listen.

“I will always be with you, Lily, but...