“You had been human,” I recalled. “When I saw you in my dream.”
The Nutcracker paused mid-step, his hands holding my legs tighter in his grasp.
“A kind mirage for a young girl. A gift not only for you, but for me as well,” he replied, as he turned his head slightly; it brought our faces so close together. I could feel his warm breath over my lips.
“Why are you not now? Why are you…?” I whispered my words, my eyes locked on his.
“Like this?” he finished as he let out a sigh.
He turned his face away again, putting as much distance between us as he could with me perched on his back, and began to slowly walk again. The snow crunched beneath his black, polished boots.
“Sometimes, dreams can be reality,” he began. “Sometimes, the dreams, however strange or beautiful, can transport us to another world. And sometimes, that dream can simply capture a moment in time; a perfect image of what it could be. But the dream is different now.” I listened quietly as he continued, “Instead of seeing things as a child would, you see the world for what it is. You see the harsh but wondrous elements… and that is why you see Winter Dream for what it is. Magnificent, even magical. But behind the majestic beauty lies a layer of mystery. Something, perhaps, you haven’t quite been able to place your finger on. And that is why I am as you see me now.”
I bit my lip as he trekked onwards. As I scanned the forest again, I began to see the hidden flaws he spoke of. Not everything was as I once remembered it to be.
“And so the Mouse King is destroying Winter Dream?” I asked. “How does one go about stopping him?”
“Not everything has such an easy solution, Clara.” I noticed the twitch of his lips as he squeezed my legs gently. “For if it did, I would not be here.”
“Your spell…”
“Indeed,” he replied softly. “I was created by the puppet-master. He has a special ability—a magic he made all his own—and it wasn’t until after he lost his wife and child that he discovered it.”
“A special magic?” I repeated curiously.
“Yes. He wanted to preserve their memories—their happiness. So, he gathered their joy and used it later on to give me life. I had not been three weeks old when the Mouse King placed me under this spell…”
I knew my expression had changed drastically. I could feel my own shock. What a terrible thing for the poor puppet-master. To lose a wife and a child? I could not imagine the depth of his despair.
Nutcracker must have sensed my confliction because he went on with his story. “It was a magical time for me. I witnessed so much in those three weeks, that I only wish I could have seen more. It was such a privilege to work beside my master. His magic—the joy he collects—manifests itself—”
“Into glowing orbs?” I finished.
“Exactly.”
I wanted to ask more questions. I wanted him to tell me everything, but I heard him suck in a deep breath, as if reserving his next words. I realized there were things he couldn’t say. There was more, and I would have to discover it on my own.
The glowing orbs. . . Uncle Drosselmeyer.
Was Uncle Drosselmeyer the puppet-master from the story, then? Had he really lost so much in his lifetime?
“If you listen carefully, you’ll still hear the snow singing,” said Nutcracker, drawing me back from my thoughts.
Tightening my grip around his neck, I pressed my cheek to the back of his neck and closed my eyes. I tried to listen, taking in the soft rhythm of his footsteps.
“There’s nothing,” I replied after a long moment of listening.
He hummed a gentle melody, until I could make out the faintest whisper of a song in the distance. The snow around us came to life, beginning to swirl and dance all around us.
“Clara has returned to us!”
“The Nutcracker Prince… he has come with Clara once again…”
Their ever-gentle falling voices echoed in the wind. It seemed even the snow remembered me.
“The Prince and Clara!” the snow continued to hum. Swirls of the white powder suddenly began to take form just beyond the snow-covered path the Nutcracker was following.
“Wait! Look!” I said, lifting my finger to the transformation occurring just beside us. My eyes widened in wonder as the snow took the shape of a beautiful sleigh. Two long runners drew beneath the seating area curled in the front, meeting at an elegant tip. Deep carvings of snowflakes and vines appeared on the side of the carriage. Beside the splendid sleigh, a proud and tall white horse appeared, already dressed to pull us.
“A sleigh! Oh, Nutcracker! A sleigh!”
He paused and allowed me to slide down the length of his back. As my feet landed in the snow, I couldn’t resist. I dashed excitedly to the beautiful creation, unabashed by my own delight. On the fur-lined seats, a perfectly folded set of furs awaited to keep us warm. Sliding a finger over the edge, I smiled. The walls were strong and would certainly hold the two of us.
“Come,” I beckoned. The Nutcracker was smiling as I turned to gaze back at him.
“A wonderful surprise, to be certain,” he murmured. “Thanks be to the Lord of the Sugarland Forest.”
“The Lord?”
“Yes,” he said as he continued to walk toward me. “There is a Lord and Lady for each land. They serve their subjects, and thus serve the ruler of Winter Dream.”
The Nutcracker held out his hand to me as he came to pause beside the sleigh.
“Please, allow me,” The Nutcracker offered. I stared at the wooden hand, noticing just how human it appeared, except for his rounded, yet square fingertips.
He cleared his throat after a long moment of my staring. “It is a bit strange, isn’t it? To be here again like this.”
“It is. If only a little.”
“A little?” he chuckled.
“I held onto that dream so fervently, and for so many years,” I said, as if in a daze, “I hardly find this strange at all. I’m happy, in fact. How often do dreams come true, I wonder?”
“Not very,” he said.
Stepping into the sleigh, I moved the fur blankets up from the seat and sat down gently. He slid his hand from mine and took his seat beside me. I draped the fur blankets over our laps as he took the reins of the horse. If only Masha could see me now.
Elegantly folded in furs beside a decorated soldier.
“Ready?” he asked, glancing at me only for a moment. The curl of the smile on his lips told me that he was.
“Ready.” I nodded.
With the flick of the reins and a click of his tongue, the majestic horse began to walk. Another click, and the horse broke into a brisk trot, pulling us and the sleigh along behind it. The scenery of the midnight forest seemed to only gain in beauty as we drove by. I could still hear the soft singing of the snow, welcoming the two of us.
“The Prince . . . he has returned.”
The words struck me as I turned to the Nutcracker. A Prince. But the story had never mentioned a prince placed under the spell—only an apprentice. I slid a hand to my lips and tried to place the pieces of the troubling puzzle together. I watched as the Nutcracker leaned back into the plush seat and darted a quick glance to me, our gazes meeting.
“Are you alright, Clara?” The Nutcracker’s voice pulled me from my deep thoughts.
Giving a small nod, I tugged the fur blankets tighter around myself. His blue eyes sparkled with a sort of mischief as he pivoted slightly, facing me.
“You can tell me,” he tried encouragingly. “I can tell something is troubling you. Is it all this?”
If he was indeed royalty, then I had made my mama a fool. I had blundered and failed woefully to appear lady-like and practiced. Looking into his face now, I felt myself overheat from the flush of my embarrassment. And how dare he! I felt my mind tangle miserably as I searched for an apology, words that would recover my dignity somehow.
And yet, I could only stutter like a sheepish young girl.
“Y-You’r
e a Prince?”
Chapter 9
Crestfallen by my realization, Nutcracker’s smile slowly fell as his gaze darted between me and the path before us. I wondered how long he had wanted to keep it a secret, though now it made so much sense. Of course a prince would try to break the spell holding a princess. No doubt it was noble of him, but also expected.
In a way, it was poetic. A cursed prince fated to battle the growing evil suffocating his kingdom.
He deserved an army, not me.
“I thought—” My voice cut through our awkward silence. “Have you always been the prince?”
Nothing was what it seemed. To think I had left my room to collect my Nutcracker from my mother’s cabinet, only to realize I had stumbled upon royalty.
“No,” he replied quickly. “Not always. Not before the spell.”
“When did you first come to Winter Dream?”
He seemed to hesitate as he tried to gather his thoughts. “I’ve always lived in Winter Dream. This is where I was created.”
Created. The orbs.
“What was it like?”
Nutcracker looked me over thoughtfully. “What do you mean?”
“Creation. What was it like? How did it feel?”
He seemed perplexed, though I was sure no one had ever asked him what it was like to become something new. Something alive. To suddenly exist when he had never existed before.
“It tickled.”
I snorted, but quickly covered my mouth, realizing how rude I must have seemed.
“Sorry, go on.”
“I suppose that my first breath was very much like the feeling of relief,” he began seriously. “I had broken the surface of the water, we’ll say, and took my first real breath. Only, because it was magic, it was infinitely more ticklish than anticipated. I could hardly stop laughing after I opened my eyes.”
“I would have enjoyed seeing that!” I grinned.
“My master was very confused at the time, but we discovered that the joy he collected had a small, yet less than alarming, side-effect.”
“Boisterous laughter?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “It was all very new to me. The world, my body; I could hardly keep myself from laughing. It was a very funny thing.”
I hoped it was a happy memory for him—something to think about when he felt sad or lonely about his curse. Or the state of his kingdom.
“Then Winter Dream…” My voice trailed off.
“What about Winter Dream?”
“It must have existed before you were created.”
“For centuries, nearly.” Nutcracker looked off distantly. “My master helped to create this world, Clara. He created all of us. But with good comes evil. Some joy is more pure than others. And some is often tainted.”
“Helped? Was there someone else?”
“The king. The only one Winter Dream had ever seen,” he replied with a nod. “My master learned under his tutelage.”
“The only king?” I asked, trying to understand.
“Self-appointed. He was a selfish sort,” he explained with a small smirk. “He and his apprentice created this world to escape the horrors of yours. They wanted to live peacefully. And so, my master began to collect happiness and joy, and created beings from it.”
“And what happened to the king?”
“He disappeared,” he murmured softly, shaking his head. “He simply disappeared one day. No one in Winter Dream knows exactly what happened to him. But shortly after, I began to work for my master. My first task was helping the lord’s daughter break the spell she had been placed under.”
“And then you were cast under a spell,” I murmured. He nodded in return.
“With the king gone, my master appointed me as the prince. It’s much more like a consort, really. It became my duty to protect Winter Dream, just as it is now to destroy the Mouse King and bring peace back to my world.”
“How strange,” I said, slumping down into my seat. “Your world has such a vast history, and yet, it seems as if it has all happened in the blink of an eye.”
“Time moves differently here.”
“How so?”
“Days can pass here, while mere minutes go by in your own.”
I suddenly felt very chilly, so I pulled the furs closer. It was an unusual world, set apart from mine, where the concept of reality shifted completely. I could have been a babe when Winter Dream first stirred.
“And your puppet-master… does he travel back and forth?”
“He does travel between our worlds—yours and mine.” He flicked the reigns gently as he turned to gaze ahead. The horse gained a bit more speed through the snow.
“He sounds like a wizard,” I confessed softly. “Collecting joy and traveling between worlds.”
As the words rolled from my tongue, I was left pondering the memories of the Christmas party; the floating orbs above the dancing dolls. Was Uncle Drosselmeyer a wizard, too?
“Magical beings are all around us. Some are more obvious to see than others. But we all have magic living inside of ourselves.”
“Do you possess magic?” I asked, raising a brow curiously. He flicked the reigns again, and shook his head.
“Not quite.”
“Does the Mouse King?” I asked, particularly interested in learning more about the piglet. How long had he and the other mice dwelled in our parlor? Perhaps it was time to persuade Papa in allowing me to have a kitten.
“He does have magic. Black magic,” he explained. “It is how he has been poisoning Winter Dream.”
“And he travels to . . . my house, often?”
“That was an accident,” he replied sharply. “That should have never happened.”
Suddenly, the sleigh jerked and swayed to the side, knocking me from my thoughts. The Nutcracker tugged on the reigns, stopping the horse from getting spooked.
“Whoa… whoa there,” he called out. As soon as the sleigh came to a stop, he darted from the seat. He knelt down beside the sleigh, inspecting a piece I couldn’t see. He stood up with a huff, sighing dejectedly.
“What is it?” I asked, sliding the blankets away from my lap. As I stood and walked to the side of the sleigh, the Nutcracker frowned.
“A runner came loose. There’s no way to fix this. Not without tools.”
“A runner?” We must have hit some sort of rock for such a thing to happen. “Let me have a look. Uncle Drosselmeyer taught me a thing or two in the few visits he makes.”
I adored my memories when Uncle Drosselmeyer would invite me to the guest room where he stayed over the holiday season. He’d unravel his cloth tool belt and teach me about all his gadgets. There was always a way to fix something, no matter how broken it looked at first glance.
The Nutcracker offered his hand to me, and I jumped down from the side of the sleigh.
The runner was broken in half, almost a clean, straight line. This didn’t seem like a normal break to a sleigh runner.
“I suppose we could use the horse and ride until we reach a town,” the Nutcracker offered, gesturing to our white steed.
The idea of riding the horse astride in my nightgown was positively scandalous—which was all the more reason to do it. This was an adventure, after all, and what soiled virtue did I have to fear when my Nutcracker was protecting me? Besides, without the proper tools or any nearby help for another few miles, we were left to our own devices.
Nutcracker did not wait for a reply. He picked up the furs and wrapped them gingerly around my shoulders. I followed him to the horse, watching as he unfastened the harnesses and hoisted himself up onto its back.
I had to admit, he did look very princely.
“Coming?”
He held out his hand. My cheeks warmed as I gazed at his hand. Don’t think, I told myself. Releasing a breath, I took it as he scooped me up into his lap with one easy pull.
I braced my hand against his chest to catch myself short of falling. I moved it quickly, wrapping myself into the furs to hide
my embarrassment. All the while, my stomach fluttered with butterflies.
“If my memory serves me correctly,” he murmured, “Mother Ginger still has her inn just outside the forest. I suggest we stop there and stay the night.”
The name ‘Mother Ginger’ seemed familiar to me. Perhaps it was too reminiscent of old tales of Mother Goose. But as I sat beside the Nutcracker quietly, I began to imagine what she must look like. Perhaps she was a stout woman, with rich, red hair that was coiled in a bun. Perhaps her inn was warm, and adorned with wooden tables and chairs, with wild flowers housed in glass vases. I could almost smell the sweet hint of tea and warm, buttered biscuits; my mouth began to water.
He tapped his heels into the horse, and we slowly began to trot through the snow.
“You’ll like her,” he added with a flash of a smile.
I looked behind us, spying the sleigh alone in the snow. One minute, it was whole, and the next second, it dissipated into nothing. I wondered if the horse would suddenly do the same, but it did not.
“Strange,” I said.
“What is?”
“The sleigh disappeared.” Gone in the same way it had appeared to us in the first place.
“It is the magic. No doubt they could not hold its form for much longer.” Nutcracker frowned deeply. “I imagine we do not have much longer with the horse. We will have to be swift.”
“They?”
“The lord and lady of Sugarland. Things have been growing worse with time. The Mouse King’s grasp on the kingdom of Winter Dream has become stronger.” He brushed a hand through his hair, frustrated.
I couldn’t resist in brushing the locks back into place. It seemed, at my gentle movement, the worry in his eyes receded.
“We’ll worry about the Mouse King once we arrive at your castle. We’ll figure it all out, just as you said,” I tried to reassure him. “In the meantime, tell me about the lord and lady of Sugarland.”
“What are they like?” he asked.
I nodded, hoping he would elaborate and forget his current worries.
“I know them well enough,” he started. “They have held dominion over the Sugarland Forest since before I was proclaimed the Prince of Winter Dream. Lord Sakhar and Lady Pixie are kind, as you’ve seen for yourself. They lent us their magic for the time being, which is more than I could have asked for.
Winterdream Page 8