The woman looked dubious, but Corinthius nodded, and the boy came up to me, grinning, and released the animal into my outstretched hands. As I clutched at the wriggling bundle of fur I began to smile as well. I could see already that this was not one of the graceful sight-hounds who used to lounge in noble dignity about my father’s hall. The puppy was too tiny, its creamy fur too thick already, and its tail too curled. But the brown eyes were bright with interest, and the tongue that flicked out below the moist black button of a nose to lick my hand was pink and warm.
“There, there now, and aren’t you a darling?” I gathered the little dog to my chest and laughed again as it tried to lick my face as well.
“A creature with neither breeding nor manners,” said Corinthius, who was not fond of animals. “And likely carrying fleas—”
“No, lord,” answered the boy, “is faerie dog.”
Corinthius lifted an eloquent eyebrow, and the boy frowned.
“I speak true!” he exclaimed. “It happens before. Mama gets lost, two, three days. Has only one puppy, white like this. Faerie dog lives long, and if not killed, when old it disappears. Dog sees spirits, and knows way to Otherworld!”
Feeling the living warmth of the creature in my arms, I hid my face in the soft fur to hide my smile, for the rest of the Lake people were nodding solemnly and I did not wish to insult them.
“She is gift, will guard you—” the boy said then.
I suppressed a a spurt of laughter at the idea that this ball of fluff could protect anything, then straightened to smile at the boy.
“Does she have a name?”
The boy shrugged. “Faerie folk know. Maybe she tells you one day.”
“I will call her Eldri, until they do, for she is as white and delicate as the flower of the elder tree.” I considered her as I said this, then looked back up at the boy. “And you—do you have a name?”
A blush warmed his sallow skin. “Is ‘Otter’, in your tongue,” he said as the others laughed.
A use-name, thought I. At his initiation he would receive another that would only be used within the tribe. And how should I answer him? In my father’s world I had been Julia Helena, but that seemed irrelevant here.
“I thank you,” I said then. “You may call me Eilan.”
I woke from a dream of many waters, blinking in the morning light. I had been in a long flat boat that slid silently through swirling mists until they parted to reveal a fair green island. But then the scene had shifted, and I was on a galley approaching endless flat marshlands and a great river that split into myriad channels as it entered the sea. And yet again the vision had changed to a land of golden stone and sand washed by a brilliant blue sea. But the green island had been the fairest. A few times in my life I had dreamed things that came true. I wondered if this was one of them. But already the memory was slipping away. I sighed, pushed back the sleeping furs in which I had nested with Eldri curled against me and rubbed the grit from my eyes. Squatting beside the headman’s fire and drinking tea from a cup of rough clay was someone I had not seen before. I noticed first the long brown braid and the blue cloak, and then, as she turned, the mark of a priestess tattooed between her brows. The blue crescent was still bright, and the smooth face that of a girl. She had not been initiated for long. Then, as if she had felt my gaze upon her, the priestess turned, and my eyes fell before that detached and ageless stare.
“Her name is Suona,” said Corinthius, patting my shoulder. “She arrived just at dawn.”
I wondered how the headman had called her. Did the faerie folk carry the message, or was there some secret spell?
“This is the maiden?” asked Suona.
“The daughter of Prince Coelius of Camulodunum,” answered Corinthius. “But her mother was of Avalon.”