A Basket of Wishes Page 3

  “Sorry, Yer Gr-Grace,” Hopkins said, his stuttering made worse by the duke’s intimidating bearing. “He’s—he’s a b-bit skit-skittish t-today. It’s the snap in the air, I vow.” Quickly he finished tightening the saddle girth, then handed the gleaming reins to the duke.

  As Jourdian slowly worked Magnus into a pounding gallop through the countryside, he pondered his cousin’s description of the future duchess of Heathcourte.

  Emil had not been far off the mark.

  But there was one other little vow Jourdian had made concerning his bride, one that Emil had failed to discern.

  Jourdian’s lips narrowed into a tight line as he dwelled on the memory of his father. Before Barrington Amberville’s marriage to Isabel, he’d been one of the most powerful men in all of Europe, concentrating intently on the Amberville holdings and fortune. But marriage had changed everything. So in love with Isabel had Barrington been, he’d ignored all responsibility to the family name.

  And then Isabel had died.

  But even after the exotic trips and squandering of money had stopped, Barrington had continued to ignore his estate and his heir. Engulfed by sorrow, he’d locked himself away from the entire world and had followed Isabel to the grave seven years later.

  Jourdian gripped the reins so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Grief had eventually killed his sire, first in mind, then in body. And love had been the reason for such profound and fatal anguish. Of those things, Jourdian was certain.

  And so, whoever his very ordinary and unassuming wife would be, Jourdian had sworn not to love her.

  Chapter Two

  Sparkles swirling in her wake, Splendor moved away from the small mound of earth beneath which her father’s glittering kingdom lay hidden. As she stepped soundlessly through the brittle fall leaves that blanketed the forest floor, her red curls shimmered down the full length of her bare body, and each of her movements sent the sweet scent of spring wildflowers into the autumn air.

  She’d escaped the assembly her father had called. As the eldest princess, she knew she was supposed to pay strict attention to the affairs that affected Pillywiggin—the province of Faerie her father ruled—but such issues very nearly put her to sleep. Besides, she mused, her sister would be present at the court gathering, and Harmony could tell her everything later.

  At that thought, Splendor frowned. Harmony would consent to nothing if it would not in some way benefit her. Although it was simply not in Splendor not to care for Harmony, she sometimes wondered why her tempestuous sister had been given a name that implied peace and benevolence. Why, only three days ago Harmony had taken great delight in tying a donkey’s tail into a hopeless mass of elf knots. The beast hadn’t seemed to care, but its poor owner had had a terrible time combing out the tangles. Harmony enjoyed tormenting humans.

  Splendor could not understand why. To her, humans were the most intriguing creatures in existence.

  She stopped beside a massive oak, leaned against the tree trunk, and peered down at the blades of emerald grass that barely reached her slim ankles. Little gave her more pleasure than her powers of shape-shifting. It wasn’t that she minded her original size—which was about the same as the span of a large butterfly’s wings—but she adored being statuesque.

  She smiled a secret smile, knowing full well that her pleasure in being tall stemmed from her fascination with humans—most especially the human man who lived nearby.

  Breathing deeply of the cool, woodsy air, she couldn’t suppress a shiver of excitement. “He’s going to be near today, Delicious,” she murmured to her enchanted pet. “That handsome human who makes me glow!”

  She looked down at her pet, frowned, and then grinned. A scant hour ago Delicious had been a tawny deer. Now he was a swan, standing near her feet preening his snowy feathers. “What’s the matter, Delicious? Can you nay decide what you want to be today?”

  Delicious rubbed his soft head over her bare calf, then returned to the task of cleaning his feathers.

  Still smiling, Splendor thought of the handsome human again. She had no idea who he was, but she always knew when he would be near enough to watch. A lovely feeling passed through her, whispering that he was coming. She’d felt it from the first time she’d ever seen him, when he was a young boy and she a fairy child, and she’d watched him ever since.

  Except for a period of five years, when he’d suddenly disappeared. She hadn’t thought to ever see him again, but one day he’d returned, and he’d been more handsome than ever.

  For as long as she could remember, she’d yearned to have him for her very own. If he belonged to her, she could keep him in her father’s palace and gaze at him as often and long as she pleased instead of having to wait for him to appear. She’d grant all his wishes and give him joy as well, for she’d had more than one glimpse of the strange grief that festered inside him.

  But short of stealing him away, she didn’t know how to acquire such an extraordinary possession.

  She floated to the edge of the forest, looked out across the fields, and continued to ponder the man she waited to see. With hair as dark as the inky black ravens that soared through the heavens and eyes the color of the sky right before a silvery rain shower, he was the most beautiful living thing she’d ever seen. And his vigor amazed her. He never lost strength the way fairies did, but could ride his huge ebony horse for hours without tiring.

  He even looked strong, with so solid a body that Splendor was sure he would feel like a stone if she ever had the opportunity to touch him. Such sturdiness was unfamiliar to an ethereal being like herself.

  She looked down at her fluid form. Her translucent skin glowed, while human skin did not. She moved in an aura of brightness. Humans cast shadows.

  “And humans must be very heavy,” she told Delicious. “Sweet everlasting, even wet I barely weigh more than a handful of stars.”

  “Splendor!” King Wisdom’s voice boomed through the forest.

  Splendor whirled around and saw her father, Harmony, and a host of Pillywiggin’s peers standing before her. They, too, had used their powers of shape-shifting and stood as tall as she.

  None were smiling at her. All were staring, some with awe, some with envy, and others with sympathy.

  A vague feeling of foreboding passed through her as she watched her father stride forward. His knee-length white hair and beard fell over his round, bare body like a swath of frost, and the very ground upon which he walked began to shine like silver. “Father?”

  “Splendor, you did not attend the assembly I called.”

  “She should be punished,” Harmony bit out. “If I were her father, I would—”

  “But you are not her father, I am.” The king gave a great sigh, contemplating the differences between his daughters. Golden-haired, blue-eyed Harmony found her happiness in rendering gloom. Indeed, she’d done much in the way of encouraging the human fear of Faerie.

  But Splendor, with her molten copper tresses and huge lavender eyes, found her greatest joy in bestowing kindness on all living things, guarding flowers and animals, and even protecting the stars that humans were forever wishing upon.

  The king worried about her, for the mortal world could be a very sinister place, especially to one as innocent as Splendor.

  And the mortal world was exactly where he had to send her.

  “I’m sorry your mother couldn’t be present to hear my all-important announcement, Splendor,” he began, “but she hasn’t yet returned from her mission. I believe she mentioned that her last stop was somewhere in Australia.”

  “Wrong, Father,” Harmony stated firmly. “’Twas America. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, to be precise.”

  “Well, forgive me for my geographical error, Harmony,” the king flared. “I’m sure it delighted you to correct me.” Reaching out, he placed his hand on Splendor’s arm. “The time has come to fulfill the betrothal made by my grandfather, Splendor.”

  Splendor’s eyes widened as she dwelled on the extreme import
ance of the betrothal. Having been told the story many years before and every year since, the tale was engraved on her heart, as it was with all the Pillywiggins.

  Faerie was of fragile and ancient ancestry, and over the centuries the delicate race had continued to weaken. As a result, the number of fairy babies born had steadily declined. By contrast, humans were strong and fruitful in offspring, and it had been Splendor’s great-grandfather who had devised a concrete way to obtain such strength and fertility for the Pillywiggins. He’d realized that a union between a human and a fairy would result in children who would fortify the enchanted race with human vitality.

  Everyone knew the union was the only way to save the kingdom of Pillywiggin, but no one had ever been aware of which Pillywiggin monarch would put into play the long-ago bargain made between Faerie and the human called Trinity. All that was understood was that by way of a dream the chosen king would know of his mission and the details concerning it.

  “A dream,” Splendor whispered. “You had the dream, Father?”

  “Aye, a fortnight ago on All Hallows Eve.” He paused for a moment, hesitant to speak the question in his mind. “Splendor,” he finally said, “has your mother… Did she… Have you had a mother-daughter talk with her yet?”

  So many thoughts darted through Splendor’s mind, she didn’t even hear her father’s question. “Oh, but how wonderful, Father! You must be terribly flattered, are you not? To be the chosen monarch… Delicious!” she exclaimed, bending to stroke her pet, “did you hear, sweetling? Is the Trinity male or female, Father? When will the wedding be? Which fairy will marry—”

  “The Trinity is male,” King Wisdom interrupted, knowing that she would chatter merrily on if he did not stop her. “And you, Splendor, are the fairy who will marry him and bear his child.”

  Her father’s declaration so shocked Splendor that she dissolved into a swirling mist of silvery light.

  King Wisdom sighed again. Ever since she’d been a child, Splendor had sought refuge from difficult situations by fading into a sparkling mist. Harmony, on the other hand, burst into flames and burned furiously until her emotions settled.

  Mist and flames, the king mused. His daughters could not have been more different. A shame that Harmony did not possess a bit of Splendor’s gentleness and compassion and Splendor did not possess a tad of Harmony’s temper and audacity. If that were so, both would possess well-rounded characters.

  Tapping his foot on the ground, the king waited for Splendor to reappear. He knew his wait would not be long, for fairy emotions came and went as quickly as the sparkle of a star.

  In the next second, Splendor materialized from within her glistening haven. “Me—me, Father? I am to marry the Trinity?”

  Harmony rolled her eyes to the heavens. “Of course, you! You always get everything, do you not? You’re heiress to Father’s throne, are you not? You’ll be queen one day, will you not? Well, now you’re the chosen savior of our race. The fairy who will be forever remembered as the Pillywiggin who saved us all by bringing a half-human child into our midst. And what have I ever gotten, I ask you? Nary a thing, that’s what!”

  The king rubbed his pounding temples as Harmony threw a fiery tantrum and turned herself into a spinning ball of red-hot blazes. “Harmony, please.”

  Gradually, Harmony cooled down until only her eyes continued to burn with anger.

  The king turned back to Splendor. “You are aware of the details of my grandfather’s plan?”

  Words rarely failed Splendor, but now she found herself unable to reply. Only moments before she’d been fantasizing over having in her possession the handsome black-haired man who rode the huge ebony horse, and now she was to wed a man she’d never seen. Sweet everlasting, how quickly her life had changed!

  “You will marry the Trinity and conceive his babe,” King Wisdom reminded her. “My grandchild will be born, will mature, wed, and procreate in Pillywiggin. Of course, we cannot be certain if the babe will inherit the powers of Faerie, but just having the half-human amongst us will strengthen us. So much so that many couples in my kingdom will again begin to reproduce.”

  Worry replaced Splendor’s surprise. How long would she be forced to stay in the human world?

  The king took her hand. “Do not despair, my child. I would never permit you to remain in the human world for more time than is necessary. Never, do you understand? And do not forget that you can nay stay outside of Faerie for more than three months, anyway. You would perish if you remained in the mortal world for any longer.”

  As his words fell over the assembly, so did silence. Long lived as fairies were, the subject of death was rarely broached.

  “Only one thing could save a fairy from certain demise in the mortal world,” King Wisdom continued solemnly, “and that is a thing called human love, an intense emotion that is born and flows from deep within the highly vulnerable human heart. This love is capable of bestowing deep, indescribable joy upon those who share it. Alas, as fairies we cannot begin to comprehend the feeling, for we lack the strength, substance, and depth necessary to bear such profound emotions.

  “’Tis a strange thing, really,” he murmured. “The members of Faerie possess great powers, but the magic of human love… ’Tis the mightiest force in all of creation.”

  All the fairies present began to ponder their ruler’s declarations until Harmony’s loud questions interrupted their deliberation. “What if Splendor fails to get the Trinity to marry her? And if by some frightfully slim chance he does make her his bride, what if she fails to get with child before the three months pass? Will you then send another fairy to take her place, Father? One who will most certainly succeed where she failed? Like me, for instance?”

  King Wisdom scowled. “Harmony, take care that your envy does not turn your blue eyes green. Splendor is a very beautiful fairy. As are you,” he added quickly. “There is no doubt that the Trinity will desire to make your sister his bride.”

  Glaring at her sister, Harmony kicked at a mound of red and yellow leaves. “If you think I’m one bit jealous, think again, Splendor. You have to marry one of those hurtums! ’Tis a pity you cannot simply live with the Trinity for a while and get with child without having to become his wife.”

  “Harmony!” King Wisdom cried. “How can you suggest that Splendor produce a child out of wedlock? My grandchild will bear his father’s name, you may be sure of that!”

  Harmony started to argue further, but the sound of hoofbeats in the distance cut her short.

  “The time has come, Splendor,” the king said, throwing Harmony a final look of displeasure. “The Trinity is near. You must swiftly show yourself to him. He will succumb to your beauty, become instantly enchanted, and you will soon become his bride.”

  He took her hand, started to guide her toward the edge of the forest, but then stopped. “Splendor, about the mother-daughter talk your mother was supposed to give to you… In order for you to conceive the Trinity’s child you must… There are many differences between humans and fairies, of course, but—”

  He broke off, noticing all the fairies were listening avidly. This was not the sort of conversation to have in front of his subjects, he realized. “Suffice it to say that the Trinity will get you with child in the same manner that fairy men sire children.”

  “But what is this manner, Father?”

  King Wisdom heard the hoofbeats come closer. “I’ve no time to explain. ’Twill be the Trinity himself who will describe and perform the act.”

  “And… And as soon as I have conceived, I may return to Pillywiggin?”

  “You most definitely will return,” he declared. “You are of Faerie, and ’tis here where you belong.”

  “But how will I know when I have conceived, Father? Who will tell me that I am with child?”

  The king smiled. “You will know, Splendor. At the very moment of conception, you will feel the creation of life take place inside you, and you will also sense the gender of the babe. ’Tis a beautifu
l gift all fairy women possess.”

  Splendor quieted then, wondering what such a miracle might feel like. But when her father began urging her to the edge of the woods, she came out of her silent contemplation and resisted with all the slight strength her fragile body held. “Father, wait! I… The Trinity—will he know that I am of Faerie? And if he does not, do I tell him?”

  The king stopped in his silver tracks. Shrewd though he was, no member of Faerie fully comprehended human nature. “I am unsure,” he admitted softly. “As I said, human emotions are different than ours, for the humans’ strength and substance allow them to feel much more deeply and for much longer periods of time. However, I imagine the Trinity will learn of your lineage whether you choose to tell him or not. He might see you use your powers or dissolve into your mist. And do not forget, Splendor, that you cannot remain tall forever. Your strength will wane, and you will be forced to shrink to Pillywiggin size to regain your energies. ’Tis possible that you might feel the need to dwindle in stature while in his presence.”

  Uncertainty made Splendor want to seek the solitude of her mist, but she stubbornly refused to give in to the temptation. She could not help her tears, however. The tiny diamonds escaped her wide eyes and sprinkled down upon the bed of leaves.

  “Come now,” the king ordered.

  Quickly, Splendor’s anxiety vanished. She glided to the edge of the forest, Harmony and the other fairies following.

  “There he is,” the King whispered, pointing toward the pasture. “The Trinity. He comes in the exact manner I saw him in my dream. On his black horse in the meadow.”

  Splendor saw her human man riding through the field, his big black horse bringing him closer and closer to the forest. “Him? He’s the Trinity?”

  “Aye, child. He is the Trinity.”

  “Sweet everlasting!” Such joy filled Splendor’s being that the brilliance of her glow rivaled that of the sun itself. For three whole months, the Trinity would be hers, the most precious possession she’d ever owned!