The other soldier was clearly relieved that Jacob hadn’t picked him to look after Fox. On their way to the palace, Jacob learned that he came from a village in the south, that he still thought his life as a soldier was exciting, and that he obviously had no idea whom Jacob was hoping to meet this night.
The large gate at the rear of the palace was open to the public only once a year. His guide took forever to open the lock, and Jacob once again missed his magic key and all the other items he had lost in the Fortress of the Goyl. The soldier chained the gate again as soon as Jacob had slipped past him. He would certainly stay. Donnersmarck would want to know whether Jacob had come back from his night walk.
The sounds of the city could be heard in the distance—the horses and carriages, the drunkards, the street vendors, and the calls of the night watchmen—but behind the walls of the Empress’s garden, fountains gurgled peacefully, and from the trees came the songs of the artificial nightingales Therese had received for her last birthday from one of her sisters. There was still light behind some of the palace windows, but it seemed eerily quiet for the eve of an imperial wedding, and Jacob tried not to wonder whether Will was standing behind one of the windows. As long as he was not with the Fairy…
It was a cold night, and his boots left dark prints on the frost-glazed lawn, but the grass absorbed the sound of his steps far better than the gravel-covered paths winding past hedges and frozen flower beds. Jacob didn’t have to look for the Dark Fairy’s footprints. He knew where she’d gone. The centerpiece of the palace gardens was a pond almost as densely covered with water lilies as the Fairy lake, and surrounded by willow trees.
The Fairy was standing between them, the light of the stars on her amber hair. The two moons caressed her skin, and Jacob felt his anger drown in her beauty. He had to touch his wounded arm to remember what he had come for.
She spun around as she heard his steps behind her, but he wore black over his white shirt, as her sister had instructed him. “White as snow. Red as blood. Black as ebony.” Only one color was missing.
Her moths swarmed out to attack him, but Jacob had already drawn the knife through his skin, opening the wound his brother’s sword had cut. He smeared the blood onto his white shirt, and the moths tumbled down as if he’d singed their wings.
“White, red, black. Snow White colors,” he said, wiping the blade clean on his sleeve. “That’s what my brother used to call them. It was one of his favorite fairy tales. But who would’ve thought these colors had such power?”
The Dark Fairy took a step back.
“And how do you know about the Three Colors?”
“Your sister told me.”
She smiled. Don’t look at her, Jacob.
“Yes. That sounds like my red sister. She rewards her lover for abandoning her by telling him all our secrets. She is so weak.”
She slipped off her shoes and went closer to the water.
Jacob felt her magic as clearly as the cold night air. “It seems what you did is even harder to forgive.”
She laughed quietly.
“Yes, they are still offended because I left them. Still, what did she think she’d gain by telling you about the Three Colors? I don’t need my moths to kill you.”
She stepped into the water until it closed over her naked feet. The night began to whir, as if she were turning the air itself into black water.
Jacob could barely breathe. “Give me my brother back.”
“Why? He is what he was meant to be.” She brushed back her shimmering hair. “Do you want to know what I think? My red sister is still too much in love with you to kill you herself. So she sent you to me.”
Jacob felt how her magic was beginning to make him forget everything. Will, Fox, the anger that had brought him to this garden, even himself.
Do not look at her, Jacob! He clutched his injured arm again so the pain would remind him. The wound caused by his brother’s sword. He dug his fingers into the cut until the blood ran over his hand.
The Dark Fairy walked out of the water. She approached him slowly, like a hunter approaching her prey.
Yes. Closer. Come closer.
“Are you really so arrogant as to believe that you could come here and make demands of me?” she said, stopping right in front of him. “Do you believe that just because one Fairy couldn’t resist you, we’re all doomed to fall for you?”
So close.
“No, it’s not that,” Jacob replied.
She realized her mistake the moment he reached for her white arm. Her eyes widened and the night wove itself around his mouth like spiderwebs spun from darkness, but Jacob said her name before her magic could silence his tongue.
She raised her hands, as though she could still fend off the fatal syllables. But her fingers were already transforming into twigs, and her feet were pushing roots into the soil. Her hair turned to leaves, her skin to bark, and her scream sounded like the wind rushing through the branches of a willow.
“It is such a beautiful name,” Jacob said, stepping under the hanging branches. “Did you ever tell it to your lover?”
The willow sighed, and its trunk bent over the pond, weeping over its own reflection.
“You gave my brother a skin of jade. I give you a skin of bark.” Jacob buttoned his black jacket over the bloody shirt. “Sounds like a fair trade, don’t you think? Now I’m going to go and look for Will. And if I find that his skin is still made of jade, I’ll come back and set a fire to your roots.”
Jacob couldn’t tell where her voice was coming from. Maybe it was just in his head, but he heard it as clearly as if she were whispering the words into his ear. “You can’t break my spell. You have to let me go if you want your brother to get back his human skin.”
“Your sister told me that you would make promises,” Jacob said, “and that I shouldn’t believe you.”
“Bring him to me,” the willow’s branches whispered, “and I will prove it!”
“No,” Jacob reached into the branches, “your sister also told me to do this.”
The willow sighed when he plucked a handful of the silvery-green leaves and wrapped them in his handkerchief.
“I’m supposed to take these leaves to your sister,” Jacob said. “But I think I’ll keep them, in case you speak the truth and I need them to trade for my brother’s skin.”
A shudder ran through the willow. The pond at its feet was a silver mirror.
“Please!” its leaves whispered. “The jade Goyl must be at Kami’en’s side until the wedding is over.”
“Why?”
“I saw it.”
“What did you see?” Jacob still felt her magic. It was all around him. But it couldn’t free her, thanks to her sister’s betrayal. For a moment, he caught himself lost in her pain and her fear for her lover. Enchantment, Jacob. Leave!
“Whatever you saw,” he said, moving away from the sighing willow, “my brother won’t be part of it. I’ll bring him to you and you’ll lift your spell.” He closed his fingers around the handkerchief in which he had wrapped the leaves. It felt as if he was once again touching her arm. Go!
“Promise!”
*
He could still hear her voice long after the pond had vanished behind the hedges.
“Please! He needs to be by his side!”
Even the stars seemed to whisper the words.
But his brother had not even been born in this world. Why should he be the savior of its carnelian King?
Her pain followed him nevertheless. As if the night felt it too.
47
THE CHAMBERS OF MIRACLES
“I’ll bring him to you.” How? For at least an hour, Jacob stood behind the stables that lay between the gardens and the palace, searching for an answer. In the North Wing, light seeped from one of the windows into the night, flickering and muted candlelight, as the Goyl preferred it. From time to time a silhouette appeared behind the window. The King of the Goyl was searching the night for his immortal lover. W
as he worried she had left him because he intended to marry another woman once the sun would rise?
“I’ll bring him to you.”
How, Jacob?
A children’s toy gave him the answer. A dirty ball lying between the buckets the grooms used to water the horses. Of course, the golden ball. He himself had sold it to the Empress three years earlier. It was one of Therese’s most treasured possessions; he had been with her when she had brought it to her Chambers of Miracles in person. But no guard would let him back into the palace, and the Goyl had taken his wane-slime.
It took him another hour to find one of the snails that produced the slime. The Empress’s gardeners killed any they could find because they bit the workers when they weeded the flower beds. But Jacob finally spotted two under the moss-covered ledge of a fountain. They had been hunting but their shells were already visible again, and their slime worked as soon as Jacob rubbed it under his nose. It wasn’t much, but it would last for one, maybe two hours.
There was only one sleepy guard by the servants’ entrance. He was leaning against the wall, and Jacob sneaked past him without disturbing his snooze.
The palace’s kitchens and laundries were busy even at night. An overtired maid gave a start when Jacob’s invisible elbow brushed her side, but he soon reached the stairs that led away from the servants and up to the masters. Already he felt his skin going numb, as he had used the slime only a few days ago, but fortunately there was no paralysis yet.
The Chambers of Miracles were situated in the South Wing, the newest part of the palace. They occupied six halls, their walls clad with lapis lazuli, as it was presumed to weaken the magical potency of the artifacts on display. The Emperors of Austry always had a penchant for the magical objects of their world. They shared that passion with most nobles of this (and the other) world, and over six generations they had built a substantial collection. It was the Empress’s father who had finally decreed that all objects, plants, and creatures with magical powers had to be reported to the authorities. After all, it was difficult to rule a world where a pauper could be turned into a lord by a gold tree or where talking animals whispered seditious ideas into the ears of forest laborers.
There were no guards by the Chambers’ gilded doors. The smith who’d made them had learned his trade from a Witch. Branches of Witch birch had been encased within the golden trees that spread their boughs across the doors. They impaled whoever attempted to break into the Chambers without knowing their secret. The branches would shoot out like lances as soon as anyone touched the handles, and like the birches in the Hungry Forest, they aimed straight at the eyes. But as a regular guest of the Chambers of Miracles, Jacob knew how to get past them unharmed.
One had to stand very close to the doors to find the woodpecker the smith had hidden among the gilded leaves. The moment Jacob breathed on the golden bird its plumage became as colorful as the feathers of a living bird, and the heavy doors swung open without a sound, as if caught by a sudden gust of wind.
Austry’s Chambers of Miracles. Only the Tsars of Varangia were supposed to have an even more impressive collection.
The first hall was filled with magical animals that had fallen prey to various members of the imperial family. Their glass eyes seemed to follow Jacob as he walked past the cabinets that protected their taxidermied bodies from dust and moths. A unicorn. Winged rabbits. A Brown Wolf. Swan-Men. Magic crows. Talking horses. There was also a vixen, of course. Jacob couldn’t bear to look at her.
The second chamber contained Witches’ artifacts. The Chambers of Miracles made no distinction between the healers and the child-eaters. Knives that had separated human flesh from bone lay right next to needles that could heal a wound with a single stitch and owl feathers that restored the powers of sight. There were also two of the brooms on which the Healing Witches were able to fly as fast and as high as birds, as well as some gingerbread from the deadly houses of their child-eating sisters.
The cabinets of the third chamber displayed scales from Nymphs and Watermen. These scales enabled whoever put them under their tongue to dive very deep and stay underwater for a long time. There were also Dragon scales in all sizes and colors. Every part of this world had its own stories about surviving Dragons, but Jacob had only once seen a shadow in the sky that looked like the mummified body on display in the fourth chamber. The tail alone took up half a wall, and the gigantic teeth and claws made some visitors very grateful that the imperial family had eradicated its kind. Jacob, though, hadn’t given up hope that one day he would meet a living Dragon behind the mirror—or at least find an egg that still had a spark of life in it.
The golden ball he had come for lay on a cushion of black velvet in the fifth chamber. Jacob had found it in the cave of a Waterman next to the abducted daughter of a baker. The ball was barely bigger than a chicken’s egg, and the inscription attached to the black velvet sounded almost like a quote from the fairy tale he had heard so often in the other world:
ORIGINALLY THE FAVORITE TOY OF THE
YOUNGEST DAUGHTER OF LEOPOLD
THE BENIGN, WITH WHICH SHE FOUND
HER BRIDEGROOM (LATER TO BECOME
WENZELSLAUS THE SECOND) AND
FREED HIM FROM THE FROG-CURSE.
That was not the whole truth. The ball was a trap. Anyone who made the mistake of catching it was sucked inside, and the victims could only regain their freedom if someone polished the ball’s golden surface.
Jacob broke the lock of the cabinet with his knife. For a moment he was tempted to take other objects to replenish his chest in Chanute’s tavern, but the Empress would be angry enough about the ball. Jacob had just tucked it into his coat pocket, when the gaslights in the first chamber suddenly lit up. As his body was already starting to become visible again, he quickly hid behind a cabinet displaying a well-worn seven-league boot. Chanute had sold the boot to the Empress’s father. The matching one was, much to Therese’s disdain, in the possession of Wilfred the Walrus, King of Albion.
The footsteps echoing through the rooms came closer and finally Jacob heard someone opening cabinets. He couldn’t see who it was because he didn’t dare move to find out for fear that his own footfalls would give him away. Whoever the late visitor was he didn’t stay long; the lights were extinguished, the heavy doors fell shut, and Jacob was once again alone with the treasures of Austry.
The wane-slime was making him sick with nausea now, but he couldn’t resist walking past the cabinets again to check what the other nocturnal visitor had taken. One of the Healing Witch needles was gone, two Dragon claws that supposedly protected from injury, and a piece of Waterman skin that was said to have similar properties. Jacob couldn’t make any sense of it. In the end he came up with the explanation that the objects were intended to be wedding presents to Kami’en, to make sure he wouldn’t be replaced by a Goyl less interested in bargaining for peace.
The golden doors shut behind Jacob as silently as they had allowed him in. He was by now so sick that he nearly vomited. His limbs were cramping—the first sign of the paralysis caused by the slime—and the palace corridors seemed endless. Jacob followed them back to the gardens, where the walls were quite high but he had the Rapunzel-rope—at least he had brought one useful thing back from the Goyl Fortress—and once again it didn’t let him down.
Donnersmarck’s man was still standing by the gate as Jacob had expected, but he managed to sneak past unnoticed. His body became more visible with every step but it was still as vague as a ghost’s. A night watchman doing his rounds dropped his lantern in fright when Jacob crossed his path.
Fortunately he was much more visible by the time he reached the hotel. Every step was a struggle, and he could no longer move his fingers. He barely managed to reach the elevator.
The soldier only opened the door after Jacob had knocked so hard that several guests poked their heads out of their rooms. Jacob stumbled past him to throw up in the bathroom sink.
“Where is she?” he asked, when he ca
me back into the bedroom. He had to lean against the wall to prevent his knees from giving out.
Fox was nowhere to be seen.
“I locked her in the wardrobe!” The soldier held up a hand wrapped in a bloody handkerchief like a piece of incriminating evidence. “She shifted shape and bit me!”
Jacob pushed him out into the corridor.
“Tell Donnersmarck that what I promised has been done.”
The soldier’s boyish face betrayed how much he longed to hear more, but he was used to following orders without asking questions. Jacob hardly had the strength to close the door behind him. When he leaned against it to catch his breath, one of the Grass-Elves that were still fluttering around the room dropped her silvery dust on his shoulder. Sweet dreams, Jacob. But he still had to get his brother to the sighing willow.
The vixen bared her teeth when Jacob opened the wardrobe. If she felt any relief to see him alive, she hid it very well.
“I guess that’s the Fairy’s doing?” she asked, eyeing his bloodstained shirt—and watched him impassively as he made a vain attempt to take it off. His fingers were as stiff as if they’d been carved from wood.
“I smell wane-slime,” Fox purred, licking her fur.
Jacob sat down on the bed while he still could. His knees were also getting stiff. “You need to bite me. Please. I am running out of time and I can barely move.”
She looked at him for such a long time that Jacob wondered whether she’d forgotten how to speak.
“Yes, a good bite might help,” she said finally. “And I admit I am very much in the mood for it. I’ve been longing to dig my teeth into you since you left. But first I want to hear what you’re up to. And don’t try any lies.”
48
WEDDING PLANS
The first red of dawn showed above the roofs but Therese of Austry had not slept. She had been waiting, hour after hour, for the one message she yearned to hear, but when Auberon finally led Donnersmarck into her audience chamber, she hid well all the waiting and the hoping behind a mask of powder.
The Petrified Flesh Page 20