by Peter Beagle
I stepped inside, and allowed myself to become visible, pulling a finely embroidered white dress and green shoes from the depths of my cloak. She gaped, then laughed and hugged me.
“Do not go into the church or leave your steed, but wait and listen to the mass. Once it’s over, you must leave, and quickly. I will have dinner ready, but you must return before your sisters. Brown might act as if she doesn’t care, but both she and Fair greatly fear the power of your beauty.”
She smiled at me, admiring the bright green of her toes against the white of her dress hem, only half, if even that, listening. “I will come home soon, thank you, thank you so much!”
She rode away, looking as happy as the spring, and I went inside, and waved, negligently, toward the kitchenware and the food. Knives began to peel and chop, the spit turned over a crackling fire, spoons stirred, and I sat back on my chair, pulled out a small, stringed instrument, and amused myself by making up a ballad featuring the most terrible rhymes imaginable.
She came home bright-eyed and giggling, and I helped her change again, hiding her clothes in the middle of a favorite tree.
When the sisters came in to see how the supper was coming along, I was sitting next to the hearth. “Something’s happened,” I said wisely. “What has come to pass, that leaves you so excited?” I did not point out that it must indeed be news, for Fair to come into the servants’ area.
Fair looked at her sister, then at the supper, then at me. She was thinking hard with that wily little mind of hers, but she couldn’t make sense of what she saw. “A woman, a beautiful woman riding a magnificent white mare, her dress of the finest white silk, came to the church today. A stranger to our lands, I think.” There was a slight question in her words, and her eyes met with my single one.
Brown spoke, her voice a mixture of dismay and awe. “Every man who was there wanted to know her, and know who she was. There was not one person there who had eyes for anyone but her.”
“Interesting,” I said.
“I should like to see her. Do you think she will come again?” Trembling’s voice was so calm, so offhand, that you would be excused for thinking she had been in the kitchen this whole time.
“Only if she comes down through the chimney,” Fair said sweetly then swept out of the room.
We didn’t say anything, but I could see Trembling biting her lip, the happiness in her eyes making my heart glad.
The next Sunday, of course, I went to the kitchen just as the others left for church. “Shouldn’t you be at church? What will people think?”
Mischievously, she said, “Oh, I would go, but I have no dress to wear, no steed to take me.”
“What a pity,” I said, standing next to her, playing with a wooden bowl, rolling it on its rim. I was trying not to smile.
She nudged me, “My sisters have done their best to copy the magnificent dress that the mysterious lady wore last week. It would be lovely if I could ask someone for a satin robe as black as night…”
“And red shoes for your feet?”
“Red shoes?” She smiled, and closed her eyes. “Yes. Red shoes. And a horse so black, with a coat so glossy that I can see myself in her body.”
When she returned, I knew things had gone well. All she could speak of was him, and all her sisters could speak of was how taken he was with the mystery woman. One more time should do it.
Aodhan knew her, as she knew him.
He would seek her out.
I would go, the next time, for this could finally be it. Maybe, if nothing went wrong again.
Sunday, I went into the kitchen. “Have you thought of another dress?”
She nodded eagerly. “I want a dress that is as red as a rose from the waist down, but pure white from the waist up. And I’d like shoes that have red toes, white middles, and green heels and backs. I would also like a cloak of green, and a hat of those same three colors.” I tried to imagine this, to weave something in my head that would still be attractive. “And your horse?”
“A mare of white, with gold and blue diamonds for markings, with a saddle of gold, and a matching bridle.” She grinned at me, breathless with excitement, and I could not refuse her.
I nodded once, and was hugged so fiercely I thought my bones might break.
When I brought her the requested things, she jumped with delight. I found myself smiling, and when she was dressed, I realized she looked really lovely.
I placed a songbird who sang the sweetest songs between the mare’s ears. The mare looked at me, and I could feel happiness radiating from her. She was enjoying herself greatly, and I stroked her forehead lovingly as Trembling mounted.
“Off you go, then,” I said, though she was already on her way.
“Supper’s not going to make itself.” I laughed at my own joke, and set the kitchen wares to their task.
I decided to become a cat to follow her. A grey cat with yellow eyes was soon bounding across the land, dogging the heels of the mare playfully.
Trembling stopped at the church. “Oh, Father in Heaven,” she whispered. “Please, oh Dear Father…” Neither of us knew that the fame of her had spread so fart that many young princes from all over the world had come to see her, all desiring to win her.
I stayed in the shadows, batting the lower branch of the bush that was my hiding place.
“What do you pray for, dear maiden?”
Aodhan had been hiding in the shadows of the church, waiting for her.
“For love, sir.” She seemed captivated by him, frozen in place as he came closer. He placed his hand on her foot. Mass was ending, and her head jerked up. I could hear her sister, her voice polite but fierce as she worked her way through the crowd.
“I must go…”
“Tell me your name.”
“I can’t. Please…”
Go, I told the mare fiercely, and it started to run. He ran along side of it, as fast as the steed, unbothered, until the shoe slipped from her foot.
When she got home, she was vexed. “I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to lose the shoe! Oh, I can’t believe it!”
“Do not worry,” I said, “Could be that that was the best thing to ever happen to you.” She looked at me as if I had finally gone mad, and waited for her sisters to come home.
The shoe became the topic of conversation in every home in Erin. The princes, headed by the Prince of Omanya, searched as a group, leaving no house alone. It was said he rode with the shoe next to his heart, and that the ladies were delighted to see it, for it did not seem like it was too large or too small. It looked…possible. But it was a deceptive shoe, and though there were some that did themselves harm to fit into it, they could not.
“Perhaps my foot is the one to fit it,” she ventured, when the sisters visited the kitchen once to give her orders. “They say that anyone can try.”
They laughed so hard and long that she did not speak to anyone for days, feeling deeply ashamed, and perhaps a bit disappointed.
Then, one day, the princes came to the castle. Trembling came to the parlor to press her suit to her father, but Fair and Brown stuffed her into a closet and locked the door. She wisely stayed quiet while the sisters tried the slipper in vain, speaking up only when the prince of Spain asked if there were no more women in the house.
“I am here! I am here!” she yelled at the top of her lungs, and I made sure that her voice was loud enough to be heard.
“She is nothing, just an ash-girl.” Fair said, shrugging.
Her father frowned. “Is that Trembling? Bring her at once.”
Such a command could not be ignored. As they came for her, I put the dresses in her arms, the matching shoe to Aodhan’s on top, and she marched into the room, dressed in the dress from the first day, carrying the others proudly.
“It is her,” he said, “I recognize her hair of gold, her beautiful eyes.”
“You are truly a woman of rare beauty,” the King of Lochlin said.
There were loud cheers when the shoe was proved
to fit. The cheers swiftly became arguments. They all wanted Trembling for themselves, and they all demanded the chance to win her.
“It was then decreed that they would all try to win her, competing by right of arms. The next day, the king of Lochlin…”
I saw Eleanor staring at me, and I said, “Don’t you enjoy big battle scenes?”
She smiled, and cut some trim for the sleeve. “I am afraid not.”
“Care to guess who won?”
“Aodhan,” she said with certainty. She looked up from her work. “It doesn’t last, does it? Something happens to them.”
I nodded, then said, “Well, a year after the battle, which if I had time I could tell in long, glorious and exciting detail…?” I looked to see if I’d convinced her, and she shook her head, suppressing a smile. I rolled my eyes dramatically, sighed, and continued.
Trembling was brought to bed with a son. A fine son he was, the very spirit and image of his father. Sadly, she was taken ill, and her father, hearing of this, sent Fair to care for her.
It may well be that Fair sent herself, but whatever happened, she came, and put on a good face, and took excellent care of her sister. I had not left by this time. I was not satisfied that things were as they should be. I felt something was wrong, even as Trembling bloomed under our care.
I went out into the garden one day, to pick flowers. She was doing very well, so I ventured out to gather some posies to cheer her. How innocent our mistakes are, but deadly, still.
When I came home I saw Aodhan return with his retinue, and Fair come out to greet them alone.
“Where is your sister?” he asked, dismounting.
“She has gone home to father, she is no longer needed.”
I could see he was greatly upset by this. “It grieves me that my wife should leave.”
“Silly, I am here. My sister Fair is the one who has left.” And she reached out, and touched his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “Of course.” But there was still doubt in his voice, so he said, “We shall sleep with my sword between us tonight, if it grows warm, then you are my Trembling, if it stays cold…”
I took a moment only to make sure the sword would do as it should, and then continued my quest for Trembling.
I did not stop looking for her, but so restless was I, that I almost missed a young cow herd. I found him, sleeping in the shadows near the kitchen garden, and I smelled a potion on his sleeping breath.
I followed him when he awoke, taking the form of his own shadow throughout the next day. I knew, by the way he wandered, confused, that his mind was fighting to overcome the spell. I reached into his mind, when I could, and peeled away a corner of the enchantment.
“The ocean,” he said, with certainty. “I have to return to the shore.”
I stood next to him, as he stared out to sea. He knew, as I did, that if we waited long enough…
A whale rose out of the ocean. I made myself visible as the whale opened its huge maw and tossed Trembling out onto the strand.
She coughed, and stood, shaking. “I knew you’d find me,” she said. “Fair pushed me into the sea, and this whale swallowed me. It was as if it were waiting for me.”
I was not surprised. I smelled something of my own sister in the leviathan, and knew if what I was beginning to suspect was true, my sister had arranged things with Fair.
“I am sorry I did not prevent this. I should have known…I should have…” I shook my head. “You are under an enchantment, am I correct? You cannot move from this beach…”
“Indeed. I have to wait for the whale to come back and swallow me again. It will return once more, tomorrow night, then we shall leave here, and I will never see my husband again.” She tossed her head. “How could my own sister do this to me? Are you not outraged? Are you not angry?”
“The cruelty of sisters ceased to surprise me long ago.”
I could not remember the last time I’d seen my sister, but I knew that she had crossed my path many a time before. And I knew how to defeat her. “Fear not. Tomorrow night all shall be mended.”
I was gone by the time the whale came to swallow Trembling back up. But the next day Aodhan and I awaited it, a pistol with a silver bullet in his hands.
“When the whale turns on its back, a brown spot will show on its breast. That is the only weak spot it has, otherwise you will never defeat it.”
He nodded grimly. “She tried to come to my bed last night, but I have refused her. She will do something desperate soon.”
“You need not worry. She will be taken care of”
He slanted me a look, but I was staring, darkly, at the sea. I had taken the form of the cow lad, a thin disguise, but hopefully she would take his presence for granted. When I knew she was coming, I said, “Be prepared, they come,” and hid myself beside an overturned boat.
He ran to his wife, holding her, and the whale, unworried, began to make its turn. He pushed Trembling aside and aimed, his shot piercing the brown spot on its breast.
The whale screamed and became a woman, who threw herself out of the waves and onto the beach.
“Danae.” I changed forms again, showing my true self for the first time in years. “Jealousy seems a foolish thing for even you to indulge in, sister.”
She healed herself, working the area, transforming it. The silver was not meant to damage permanently. In fact, if I’d wanted to kill her I would have used iron. But the silver stopped her long enough for me to intervene.
“Not jealousy, sister.” She stood, and I drew my magic to me, preparing. “But a desire to see that you never redeem yourself,—that you fade to nothing.”
I grimaced. If I faded before I corrected my errors, I would disappear. I would not rejoin my family or my ancestors. I would have never been.
We fought like clever women fight. With rain and lightning, with changing shapes, cat to snake, hawk to wolf…but in the end, it was not magic that defeated me. She transformed back to herself, scratched and bloodied, and fell to her knees. I had my hand back, to throw a final spell, when she leapt up, and stabbed me with a dagger. The iron grazed ribs, cutting skin and muscle more than anything else, but it was a cruel blow. I fell upon the beach, unable to move, unable to act.
Aodhan fought bravely, as did Trembling. And that is all I will say. What else is left to say, except that I failed again?
“It is why,” I told Gregory later, as I made free of his apples, “I am weak. The wound, it never really healed. It does not bleed, or even hurt. But I feel as if something of myself is leaking through the seam in my body.”
“That sounds awful,” he said. “But if your sister wants you to fail, she must be here somewhere.”
“You believe me so easily?”
He gave me a look that suggested he wasn’t certain of my sense, and gestured toward the cart of never ending food.
“I found her,” I admitted. “It took some time, but I know exactly where she is.”
“And you’ve taken care of her? Bound her up and tossed her in the sea? Sent her on a one way trip to the moon?”
“None of the above, I fear. It’s not that easy, especially considering that she’s managed to become Eleanor’s stepmother.” I was chewing my lip now. “She has weakened me. I have to find a power that’s stronger than her. I have to confound her. Love won’t do it. Simply getting them wed won’t, either. I need more power…” I felt my jaw drop, and I looked at him.
“You’ve come to the solution.” He leaned forward, eagerly. “What is it?”
“My father was the king of our people…which means he was in possession of the ruling wand. It’s…well, a magic wand, it makes the holder undefeatable.”
“Something like that, you’ll need to go on a long quest for.” I could see what he was thinking, that the ball was tomorrow night.
“It’s mine for the asking. I’m the eldest daughter.” I sounded braver and more certain than I felt. The wand had been denied to me as part of my punishment, but if I
could convince who or whatever guarded it that I had to have it, that I was worthy…
I lay down on the wood planks that made up the stable floor. “You should find some place more comfortable,” I said, wiggling, hoping in vain for a soft spot.
“My newest occupation has not exactly been focused on making a profit.”
“You could sell some of the food to the rich. After all, it’s a never ending supply.”
He considered this, while I tried to make myself calm. “I rather thought that would break the spell…”
And then I was gone. I sent my soul to the tree I’d loved so much, the one that we had all slept in, the tree that I had thought would always be my home.
The forest, to my soul’s eye, was the forest I’d grown up in, with the council stones set in their neat circle, the carefully coaxed and formed trees and plants forming a cathedral around the glen. It was empty, which it had never been in life, and I wondered why. Did no spirits walk this land, just to remember how things once were?
I walked through it, taking my silver knife out to cut away a few chunks of elder bark. I carried them in my bare hands, imprinting my question into them, as I walked to the great cauldron. The cauldron was a circle of rocks near the bottom of a gently running waterfall. The water would splash and fall, rolling toward the basin of rocks, the water would swirl through, and out. It made an odd effect of constantly spinning water.
I walked to the cauldron, my feet steady on the slippery rocks, instantly cold from the water, and knelt, my back to the current so that it kept me pressed to the rocks, kept me pinned in place by the current and the basin.
I sprinkled the bark over the swirling water, and stared into it, concentrating.
This is who I am, I said. I know myself, my faults, my good points. My vanities and follies outnumber anything that one could call a blessing, but I beg you to see that I try. And that I am fading, now, so close to the end of my quest. Please, father, if you are still close enough to this world to grant me one wish, please, give me your wand.