these things. What you may learn is up to the Queen.’
The hill levelled out into a broad plateau that led to a thick forest in the distance.
‘Any chance of you changing into a horse and giving me a lift?’ I asked, flashing my House of Duir smile. ‘Or would that be too demeaning?’
Tuan laughed at that. ‘Not demeaning, Prince Conor, just short.’
But when I asked him what he meant, I got the same stonewalling that I got before. I hoped the Queen was more forthcoming.
The sun was fully down by the time we entered the forest but a gibbous moon provided enough light for us to navigate. Not far in, the path became broad and ran parallel to a stream. A while later we came upon small bridges that spanned the stream and led to modest huts. I saw neither a person nor an animal. Finally we came to a series of ponds, each with a tasteful two-storey pine cottage with a porch that hung over the water. They reminded me of really nice country hunting lodges. We must have passed about a dozen pond/house combinations before we came to the last and most impressive house. We entered and Tuan lit several oil lamps. The large room was sparse but elegant. It had that minimalist feng shui chic – like it was inhabited by someone who didn’t need earthly things. In the corner was an ornate high-backed chair made from polished white pine.
‘Is that the Pine Throne?’ I asked.
‘It is. This is Queen Rhiannon’s home.’
I looked around. ‘Where is she?’
Tuan walked outside onto the porch. At intervals along the railings there were torches connected by a string of gold wire. The Pooka touched the gold and mumbled something that made a spark zoom around the wire, igniting the torches around the porch and then around the pond. I now got a good look at the outside of the house. It was nice, really nice but I still wouldn’t have taken it to be a royal palace. The light glimmered, mirror-like, off the football-field-sized pond, reflecting the circle of flickering torches.
‘There,’ Tuan said, pointing to the pond.
I was about to say, ‘Where?’ when a large fish broke the surface of the pond and then vanished underneath the rippling water.
‘There she is,’ Tuan said, pointing, ‘there is Queen Rhiannon.’
Chapter Twenty-One
‘The Queen’s a fish?’ I blurted.
‘In her fauna state Queen Rhiannon is braden – a salmon.’
‘Can I speak to her?’
‘May I have one of your hazelnuts?’ Tuan tried to look calm but it was a look of calm desperation. I handed him a hazelnut and he cracked it with his teeth. ‘Do you have a knife?’
I reached into my sock and handed him the green-handled blade I found at the bottom of Mount Cas. He stared at it for a moment then walked to the edge of the porch and shaved five tiny slivers off the nut, allowing them to drop in the water. The two of us stood shoulder to shoulder shielding our eyes from the bright torchlight. It probably only took a couple of minutes for Queen Fish to swim to the spot under the dock but it seemed like ages – I never was a very patient fisherman. Finally she tentatively swam up to the floating nut shavings. I thought she was going to ignore them but then she snatched at a sliver and swam away. Tuan sighed and returned my knife. In the middle of the pond, a salmon poked its head above the water. As I watched the large fish mouth pulled tight, the eyes drew closer together and then, as her feet touched the bottom, she rose. Queen Rhiannon did not possess the traditional beauty of, say, Essa or my mother but she was striking none the less. Her hair was long and shiny silver, it floated around her in the water just below her neck. The features on her face almost seemed chiselled but it was the eyes that drew your gaze – they were emerald green.
A set of stone steps rose out of the water. Queen Rhiannon walked out of her pond and up onto the porch. I’m so glad those eyes were that compelling – because I didn’t want to get caught looking anywhere else. I didn’t bow or say anything. I just looked her square in the peepers until Tuan presented her with a robe.
She started to speak and then stopped. It was almost as ien.
‘We have a guest,’ Tuan said, pointing to me with an open hand. ‘This is Conor of Duir. He has brought us hazelnuts.’
I opened the parcel and displayed the five remaining nuts. ‘A gift from my mother, Queen Deirdre.’
‘Deirdre lives?’ she asked, her voice a bit stronger.
‘She does, Your Highness and she has been worried about your people.’
‘What have you told him?’ Rhiannon asked Tuan.
‘I have told him nothing but if the choice was mine I would deem Conor barush.’
Rhiannon turned and walked back down the stairs into her pond and gently scooped up the four tiny slivers of hazelnut that were floating on the water and handed them to Tuan. ‘Arouse the council while I talk to the Son of Hazel.’
Tuan turned and was almost out the door when the Queen called to him. ‘Son, how long?’
‘Two months. I have missed you, Mother.’ Then he turned and left.
‘Would you like a cup of tea, Prince Conor?’
‘That would be lovely, ma’am.’
As she walked to a door on our left the Queen stumbled – she was unsure on her feet. I grabbed her arm to steady her. She stopped and shook me off, proudly straightening herself, but then she sighed in resignation and held my arm as we walked slowly to the kitchen.
‘Deirdre’s son,’ she mused. ‘That would make you Liam’s grandson.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
In the kitchen there was a black kettle covered with a mesh of gold wire. Rhiannon lifted it to see if it contained enough water, then placed her index finger on a bit of the gold and hummed. Within seconds steam issued from the spout. She grabbed a handful of small white flower buds from a jar, distributed them between the two cups and poured in the hot water. I don’t know what kind of tea it was but it was lovely and it seemed to revitalise the former fish.
We walked through the kitchen into a comfortable sitting room. The tabletops were dusty. Rhiannon apologised for the state of the place. ‘I have been… away,’ she said.
‘Lost, was the word you used before,’ I said as gently as I could.
Queen Rhiannon looked me directly in the eyes for one of those hour-long seconds and then looked vacantly into the distance. ‘Lost… yes, lost is a better word.’
I waited for her to say something else. She was a queen after all, it wasn’t like you could just drill her for information. After a while I feared she was getting lost again. I reached into my pocket and opened the parcel and presented her with the five remaining hazelnuts.
She broke the silence. ‘Where did the hazel come from?’
I started to tell her how the new Tree of Knowledge came about and it turned into an autobiography. I told her about how I came to The Land, how Dahy gave me a hazel staff that was once owned by my grandfather and how I accidentally planted it at the site of the destroyed tree and it took root.
‘And your mother gave you the hazelnuts to give to me?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Did she tell you why?’
‘No, ma’am.’
‘Can you guess?’
I took a deep breath and thought about this. ‘I think you became a salmon, then forgot who you were and the hazelnut helped you remember your Pooka self.’
‘You are a very good guesser, Prince Conor.’
I smiled like a schoolboy. ‘I have not seen a Pooka since entering the Pinelands, except your son. Is that what
