The Seneschal smiled and nodded. “There are not many of your family left. Not many of the original Moussion, the forgotten race.”
“Then how did Shirikant become immortal?” Phae asked. “He must have partaken of the fruit of the tree. How did that happen?”
“His rebellion began on his way out of Mirrowen. He felt he had been robbed of the opportunity to become Seneschal by his brother. Jealousy blackened his heart. He saw the happiness that his brother and my daughter shared. He promised them an elaborate wedding, a royal occasion that would rival any kingdom’s. He set in motion a plan to murder his brother and claim my daughter for himself.”
Phae’s eyes bulged with shock.
The Seneschal approached the tree, staring at one of the gentle fruits dangling from a stem. Crackles of thunder popped in the sky above and Phae noticed the clouds roiling with storm. Vivid forks of lightning streaked through the billows. The Seneschal was peaceful, his hand grazing the edge of one of the fruit.
“He visited several times, as I told you, seeking to mirror the wonders he found here. But all the while, he tested to see if I truly knew his thoughts. He kept coming closer and closer to the tree, seeing if the defenses of Mirrowen would be summoned against him. There are laws irrevocably decreed, child. When one is persistent, when the determination is absolute, one achieves . . . even if it is to his or her harm. He did not believe that I could discern his thoughts. He convinced himself that he would succeed. He was fascinated by the Paracelsus order developed by the Cruithne. He had met, years previously, a caravan of Cruithne with a menagerie of captive animals that were forced into bondage to perform tricks for the amusement of nobles. One of the chief animal tamers wore a torc around his neck, fashioned by a Paracelsus. The torc made wild animals fear him, which allowed the Cruithne to perform feats of astonishing bravery—or so it seemed. Shirikant paid dearly for such a magic charm and he used it to enter Mirrowen and pass the sentinels guarding the tree. Even the serpent Iddawc feared to bite him. He claimed a fruit of immortality. He also took a serpent, concealing it in a pouch to be used to kill his brother. Then he took a bite of the fruit.”
Phae sighed, hearing sadness in the Seneschal’s voice.
“You see, child, he deceived himself most of all. Having eaten of the fruit without permission, he quailed when I appeared and charged him for his crime. He was banished from Mirrowen forever. I cursed his fireblood with madness that any soul with it who would not control his or her thoughts or emotions should succumb to insanity. Ambition must always be tempered. He was angry at his punishment and threatened in his heart to destroy Mirrowen. Because he had favored the principles of bondage to that of freedom, I commanded the spirits of Mirrowen to never obey him. I allowed Shirikant to take the serpent with him.”
The Seneschal turned and faced Phae. “My daughter never returned to Mirrowen. Come with me, child. You must see what happened next for yourself.” He extended his hand.
The magic of the Tay al-Ard swept them back to Stonehollow. They were outdoors and the air smelled familiar. They were in one of the lush gardens of the palace, full of trimmed hedges, vibrant flower beds, and gurgling fountains. There were many guests about, savoring goblets of wine, enjoying the singing and instruments of musicians. Decorations abounded, with pennants hanging from tall staves and butlers appearing with silver dishes full of wonderful meats and cheeses.
“This way,” the Seneschal said, holding out his arm and escorting Phae. They were both dressed as the nobility around them, blending in perfectly with the costumes of the occasion. Giddy laughter filled the air as the people rejoiced.