It occurred to me that if the dragons hadn’t burned down the old castle back then, there would have been portraits of all those old kings. I could have skipped from picture to picture, comparing, until I discovered which piece was different. All these treasures must have been lugged out of the burning castle for safekeeping. I wondered if they still smelled like smoke.
I leaned over the robe and sniffed. The smell of mothballs assailed my nose. And something else—spirits of orange. The Princess had ordered all of it cleaned and polished; smells wouldn’t help me. I would have to start digging through them all.
I opened the biggest chest first. A puff of incense rose out of the satin lining, making my nose burn. Evidently, these didn’t get opened very often. They could probably use a good airing. On a bed of satin sat the great crown of Eliora, a gold-covered, diamond-blazing, emerald-studded monster. It looked so heavy that I imagined my neck snapping under the weight. I decided that it couldn’t be the talisman and closed the lid.
The next chest was long and narrow; it held a sword that rested in a jeweled scabbard. I touched it, testing for the presence of magic. I assumed the talisman would buzz under my touch like the stained-glass canary did. I didn’t feel anything. The next long chest held the scepter, a silver staff topped with a diamond the size of a goose egg. I slipped my hand under it and lifted it an inch off the satin lining. It balanced cold and heavy on my palm. I put it down. It seemed to me that the talisman would be smaller, something easy to hold or wield.
A sash woven from cloth of gold and embroidered with pearls lay in the next chest. Another held a ring, a ruby-eyed gold lion’s head. I slid it on my finger. The lion’s head swung around my thin finger and hung below my hand. I straightened it up and held it in place with my other hand. Then I closed my eyes and felt for the castle’s magic.
Silence hummed in my ears. Thirty-Three jiggled impatiently on my hips. I opened my eyes and put the ring back in its box. I was a little sorry; a ring would have been the easiest thing to tuck in a pocket and sneak out of the castle.
A chest with a ruby-tipped handle held the chain of office. A thick gold many-pointed medallion swung between double rows of thick gold links. A starburst was emblazoned on the center of the medallion. A diamond sat in the center of the starburst. I traced the starburst etching and felt the smallest sizzle of power. Could this be it? I bent over it and whispered in a voice so faint that it was barely a breath: Sarvinder. Nothing. The metal turned to ice beneath my finger. I rocked back on my heels. This was not it. I could have sworn it was! It had the same starburst that was on the terrace where Princess Mariposa showed me the dragons.
Swallowing the bitter taste of disappointment, I turned to the remaining chests. They held a series of smaller objects: several sets of buttons—diamond, amethyst, and onyx, all set in gold. I supposed they were sewn on whatever waistcoat the King wore for special occasions and then cut off for another use. A belt buckle worked with two gryphons facing each other. A grouping of small carved stones set on clips. They looked a little like the trim on some of the Princess’s slippers, so I assumed they were meant to be worn on the King’s shoes. A pair of silver spurs. I was excited by another, smaller ring of a lizard swallowing its tail. Holding my breath, I slipped it on.
Nothing.
The last chest held a set of heavy gold bracelets about two inches wide; each had an odd pointed design on the top. I picked one up. Inside the bracelet ruby letters glowed, spelling out V-I-N-D-E-R. I picked up the other. Inside it were the letters S-A-R. I set the two bracelets together; they fitted perfectly. The odd design on the surface formed a starburst. SARVINDER burned on the inside with a ruby-tinged fire.
Cuffs! This was what Iago had meant. These cuffs were the talisman.
Did Princess Mariposa know?
I swayed, suddenly dizzy with fear. I had in my hands the powerful talisman that controlled the golden collars of the ferocious dragons chained to the roof! My tongue clung to the roof of my mouth. Black spots swam before my eyes.
I dropped the cuffs back into their chest. They sank into their bed of satin with an audible hiss. I wiped my damp palms on Thirty-Three. I’d found them. Now what did I do? I couldn’t skip out of the castle toting a chest under my arm, even as Cherice. The chest was bound to raise eyebrows, if not summon Guards. And the cuffs alone were big and heavy, much too heavy to slip on my skinny wrists and wear. And much too bulky to pop in my pocket and sashay down the hall. I would list to one side. That would not be good. Not to mention the huge bulge in my pocket that even Thirty-Three might not cover up.
There had to be a way to sneak them out without calling attention to myself. What could I put them in that Cherice had been seen carrying? I’d seen Lindy with her picnic basket under her cloak. I’d never seen Cherice with anything other than her magnifying glass.
I needed something close at hand. A laundry basket would be too big. Cherice had a sewing box, but she kept it locked in her desk. Why, I had no idea. Scissors, spools of thread, and a packet of needles—why lock those up? Not that it mattered, because she had her keys with her. I couldn’t get into her desk without breaking a lock. That would raise questions.
So would the missing cuffs, and who would be the first person they looked for? Me, that’s who, because everyone else was downstairs preparing for the wedding. I not only needed a plan for getting the cuffs out of the castle, I needed an alibi. I wiped my brow. This was not going to be a piece of cake.
I heard muffled voices coming from the Princess’s bedroom. I shut the chest.
“They are laid out in there,” a woman’s voice said.
They were coming my way. Dress or no dress, it would not be easy to explain what I was doing in here to one of the Princess’s ladies. Especially not one who’d seen Cherice somewhere else. I whipped around, hunting for a place to hide. Spindly chairs didn’t offer much cover. I had to get out.
I heard the knob on the door to the bedroom turn.
I dived through the only other door available—the door to the butterfly room. The white butterflies bobbed on their silver cords overhead. To anyone looking in, disguised in Cherice’s brilliant pink, I stood out like a flamingo in the all-white room.
“We haven’t much time,” Prince Baltazar said from behind the not-quite-closed door. “I can’t miss my own wedding.” He chuckled.
I balled my fists. I glanced around the room full of cabinets and display cases. There was nowhere to go, and I wanted to hear more of what was said. A narrow table stood against the wall by the door. It wasn’t much cover, but anyone glancing in probably wouldn’t look under the table. I ducked beneath it, tucked Thirty-Three close to me, and scooted back until my spine met the wall. I pressed my ear to the door.
I heard the opening and slamming of chests.
“Aha! Here we go,” a woman’s voice proclaimed. I’d heard that voice before; it was the Cloaked Lady’s, the kind of voice that didn’t have to be loud to be heard, a voice that commanded attention.
I twisted Thirty-Three’s skirt in my hands. The Cloaked Lady was only a few feet away. I wondered if there was any way I could sneak a peek at her.
“Are you sure this is it?” Prince Baltazar spoke.
“The magnifying glass does not lie!” the woman snapped.
“Sure. Whatever you say. So how do they work?” Prince Baltazar asked in a soothing tone.
“You put them together—see where the design meets—and they form a starburst.”
A starburst. Dread washed over me. Prince Baltazar and the Cloaked Lady had found the talisman so fast it made my head spin. Any minute now they were going to use it!
“They don’t work,” Prince Baltazar complained.
“You have to wear them and then bring them together; there is little use in holding them,” she scolded.
“They’re stiff. Ouch! It bit my wrist!”
“Fool, it’s a piece of metal; turn them sideways and slide them on!”
“They’re warm,�
� Prince Baltazar gasped.
“Use them! Use them now!”
I heard a faint ringing as the two cuffs met. I tensed up, squeezing Thirty-Three in my sweaty hands, and waited for the roof to explode.
Nothing happened.
“Is this all?” Baltazar said. “There’s nothing. Nothing. What else do I do?”
The castle wall behind me pulsed. I felt the magic in it awaken and surge into my spine. My every hair stood on end. My every nerve tingled.
“Perhaps you must concentrate. Say a command,” the Cloaked Lady said.
A louder ring sounded as the two cuffs clanged together.
“Dragons, be free!” Prince Baltazar shouted.
Nothing.
“Hush,” she said. “Not so loud.”
“Collars, release!” he said as if through gritted teeth. “I command you to work!”
Then I knew it as surely as the magic buzzing in the wall and in my spine: the cuffs worked with the magic word. Had they not seen the letters inside the cuffs?
“Sarvinder,” I breathed.
As the word left my lips, the air around me tingled. The wall throbbed. I clapped my hand over my mouth. Oh, no! Had I helped release the dragons? I heard a tinkling sound like the breaking of glass and then the flutter of wings. Looking out from under the table, I saw scores of real butterflies where the white ones had hung. A storm of wings blew around the room in a colorful flurry. They lit on cabinets and tables and walls.
They flew under the table, surrounding me, settling on my hair and shoulders and knees. Their wings beat in rhythm. I sat as still as possible, coated in glorious, beautiful butterflies! I’d released the butterflies on the ceiling. All of them. They must have been held captive like the mice in the frieze.
If only the Princess were here to see her long-lost butterflies.
“They don’t work!” Prince Baltazar said. I heard the clank of metal being tossed down.
“Are you sure? I thought I heard something,” the Cloaked Lady said.
“Did you hear the sound of dragons screaming through the air?” Prince Baltazar asked with a snarl. “It didn’t work.”
“Maybe we’re too far away; maybe we have to be on the roof.”
Maybe you had to have the magic word.
“Well, there isn’t time now,” he snapped. “Pick those up and put them back. I’ll have plenty of time to play with them after the wedding.”
“The talisman was the goal, not the wedding,” the woman argued. “Let’s take them.”
Butterflies coated my cheeks and kissed my eyelids. I waved them away, flailing blindly. My hand met a table leg with a thunk. I froze, hand outstretched, butterflies nibbling my ears.
“Someone’s in there,” the woman said, pushing open the door and walking into the room.
Her brilliant pink skirt brushed my feet. My heart sputtered in my chest. Thirty-Three crackled in fear. I was in terrible, terrible trouble.
“Wretched creatures! The place is full of them,” she said, swatting the air.
A butterfly fell to the floor. I swallowed, watching it flutter brokenly against the tile.
“Well, well, what have we here?” the woman said. She bent down.
Blinking butterflies out of my way, I found myself staring into the face of Cherice.
Cherice’s eyes flew open. Her chin dropped. Her face paled.
“Who are you?” she gasped.
“I—I—I,” I said.
Her eyes trailed up and down my huddled form. She gaped at me as if she saw a ghost. Her hand flew to the lace at her neckline as if she was reassuring herself that she still wore her dress. She didn’t see me, Darling Dimple. She saw herself.
I swallowed, pulling Thirty-Three tighter to my knees. If I didn’t tell her who I was, she wouldn’t know. She reached under the table, grabbed the front of Thirty-Three, and hauled me out.
“Who are you?” she demanded, shaking me.
“Cherice,” I said.
“Imposter!” she roared. “Tell me your name!”
She hauled me up so that my feet dangled an inch off the ground. I felt the seams in Thirty-Three brace themselves. If the dress tore, it was all over.
“Who is it?” Prince Baltazar said from the doorway. He was dressed in a splendid silver coat with diamond buttons. His wavy hair was slicked down and the overpowering odor of cologne steamed out of his ruffled shirt front. Several butterflies found this smell alluring and clung to his sleeve.
Cherice dropped me and spun me around. My eyeballs rolled around in their sockets.
“Look!” she croaked. This Cherice didn’t speak in the warm sugary voice I was used to. This Cherice sounded like the Cloaked Lady.
Prince Baltazar flinched at the sight of me.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Cherice snapped. “She’s a spy! Look, she’s even dressed like me. That dressmaker must be in on it.” A butterfly settled on her hair; she batted it away.
“In on what?” he asked, staring at me as if I couldn’t really be there.
“Who else is in this with you?” she asked, shaking me. “Who else wants the talisman?”
I pressed my lips together and shook my head. I wasn’t going to say anything.
“I’ll make you talk,” she told me, pinching my arm.
“There isn’t time; the wedding begins in another hour,” Prince Baltazar said, snapping out of his daze. “Let’s do something with her for now and deal with this later.”
“Bother the wedding; grab the cuffs and let’s get away,” Cherice snarled. “The imposter can have a little accident.”
She sprinted to a window and flung it open. The butterflies, sensing freedom, flowed out into the breeze. I squeaked like a mouse stuck with a pin.
Prince Baltazar grabbed my upper arm. “No.”
I went limp with relief. I didn’t like to think about how far down to the ground it was.
Cherice turned around, cheeks as pink as her dress. “What do you mean, no?”
The Prince dusted butterflies off his sleeve with his free hand and patted his hair. “We don’t want the commotion. I can’t miss my wedding. Once I am married to the Princess, there will be plenty of time for other things.”
“You double-crossing idiot!” she growled. “I’ll expose you!”
He smiled his oiliest smile. He was more evil than I’d even imagined. I eyed the half-open door. There was no way I could get away, not while he had an iron grip on me. I braced myself to scream.
“Until now, we’ve done it your way. Now, we’ll do it my way. My pet, don’t you see? Once I am King, then anything is possible,” Prince Baltazar said.
“Once you are King? Don’t delude yourself. Mariposa will never let you loose those dragons,” she said in a steely voice, coming right up to him and staring in his face. “And what about me?”
“You,” he said, patting her cheek and pulling me close enough in the process to get a nose-burning whiff of his cologne. “You can console me when poor little Mariposa gets eaten by a dragon.”
The air left my lungs as if someone had punched me in the middle. This couldn’t be happening.
“Killing Mariposa was never part of the plan,” Cherice said.
“Who needs a busybody around? Once she’s gone, you’d be the new Queen.” He lowered his voice. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, love? Queen Cherice. Has a nice ring to it.”
“These people follow Mariposa because she’s their Princess; they won’t follow you just because you wear a crown,” Cherice said.
“They’ll have to, once the dragons are my attack dogs,” he said with a smirk. “And besides, love, you’d better stop and think. If I fall, you fall. If I succeed, you succeed. There’s no going back now.”
Cherice eyed him and licked her lower lip in a very unladylike manner.
“What about her?” she asked, nodding at me.
I looked back and forth at the hard expressions on the two of them. My kn
ees went weak. I opened my mouth to scream, but the Prince slapped his hand over it.
“Her friends will always wonder what became of her,” Prince Baltazar said, pulling a sad face. “Where can we stash her until later?”
Cherice looked around. “Not in Mariposa’s rooms.”
“Somewhere close,” he suggested.
She snapped her fingers. “Lindy’s closet. No one will look there.”
“Not even Lindy?” he asked.
“She’ll be chasing after that addlepated Captain of hers,” Cherice answered with a smug grin. “Get her and come with me.”
He picked me up and held me kicking and squirming against his chest.
“Lead on,” he said.
Cherice walked back into the sitting room and Prince Baltazar followed, clutching me close. The chest for the cuffs was still open and Cherice stopped to close it.
“Wait. Put them on me. I want to see what they might do outside and I don’t want to come back up here,” he said.
A suspicious gleam lit Cherice’s eyes, but she did as he said. She put the cuffs on him, hiding them under his sleeves. Then she motioned for silence and walked to the bedroom door. She opened it an inch and looked out. Then she walked through. Prince Baltazar dogged her steps. I fought as hard as I could, but his arms were like steel bands around me.
I was trapped. If only a Footman or a lady or even Francesca would show up and stop them. But no, every room was deserted. They kept up the same caution at every door until we reached the pressing room. And there they shoved me in Lindy’s cupboard. I stumbled in, gasping for breath, and fell headfirst into Lindy’s long black cloak.
Behind me, the cupboard door slammed shut and the lock clicked.
I heard the sound of their footsteps as they went away. I sobbed into Lindy’s cloak. I had really and truly failed this time. It was all over. My shoulders shook with my sobs. Princess Mariposa would marry that monster and then later, when everyone was feasting, Cherice would come back for me.
If the Magic Fits Page 17