Emily set off again, sure that she looked a mess after her night sleeping rough. She felt sorry for herself and lonely as she arrived in the outskirts of the elfin city of Aldebaran. Elves were rushing about, looking as if they had something important or urgent on hand; not like her. Despite her high-opinion of herself, she didn’t know what to do.
Now and again, an elf gave her a curious look, but mostly they ignored her. Feeling friendless, Emily walked into the main street of quaint shops with twisted roofs and wooden beams. She admired them, so neat, like the elves themselves, whereas she felt dirty and scruffy. She looked in the shop windows with their bright display of clothes or of musical instruments, some of which she had never seen before. Passing a greengrocer’s, she suddenly felt hungry. A mouth-watering pile of apples caused her stomach to remind her that she hadn’t eaten. She moved on, feeling sorrier for herself, when a sign caught her attention. Over a shop door in neat letters: SPARKLA & DAUGHTER; FINE GOLDSMITHS & JEWELLERS.
Hope stirred in Emily’s breast; she tried to smooth her hair as she studied her reflection in the window. Frowning at her untidiness, she plucked up courage and went inside. An elderly elf behind a counter, head over some tiny mechanism, ignored her as she came in. Emily stood waiting politely with her hands behind her back. The elf continued to ignore her. Ahem, she coughed gently.
“Mmm? Ay, ay, what is it?” the elf grumbled. “Don’t suppose you’ve come to buy anything, have you? Nobody ever does! Repairs, repairs, repairs! That’s what they all want! What do you want repairing?” He looked up suddenly, studying Emily with the eye that wasn’t occupied by an eyeglass. The girl wasn’t what he was expecting. At least, his surprise stopped the flood of grumbling.
She seized her chance. “Hello, I’m Emily.”
The old elf studied her with one magnified and one normal blue eye. Despite her scruffy appearance, his eyes filled with recognition and admiration.
“Not the Emily? Emily Dragonfly—the greatest living goldsmith?”
Emily’s chest puffed up at this appellation. So, her fame had travelled before her. That could only help. She told the elf her story and ended up asking for a job. The elf hung his head. “How can I offer you a job?” he said, sadly. “My daughter has had to find work as a maid in a hotel. You must have noticed, all the time you were telling me your story, we didn’t have a single customer. Times are hard. Gold doesn’t grow on trees, you know! Only Golden Delicious! Ha! ha! Sorry, not very funny, eh?”
She looked unhappy. Emily’s stomach rumbled again at the thought of apples. The old elf could see she was desperate and felt sorry for her. “Look, I’d love to help, of course, I would,” he said sincerely, “but you can see how I’m fixed. If you can get the materials together, you can use my forge any time, free of charge…” his voice trailed away.
“That doesn’t help,” Emily shook her head. “I need a job. How can I get materials without money?” She shrugged helplessly and inwardly cursed her stupidity for having shown off when she knew Success. She had basked in glory and frittered away all her beautiful, costly jewellery. Now she couldn’t scrape together even the essentials to begin again. She fought back a tear of anger.
“Perhaps I can help,” the goldsmith said, kindly. “Come and have something to eat and leave things to me.” He hobbled over to the door and turned the sign to CLOSED.
Through his daughter, Nova, Sparkla found Emily a job in the Starlit Hotel as a chambermaid. The manager wasn’t sure at first because Emily had no experience in this work. Since she was so eager to start and as he was a shrewd elf, he saw that Emily was slightly taller and stronger than the other maids, so she would probably get through more work. He gave her the job.
Nova and Emily became friends. She was fun to be with, and as elves, in general, are good-natured, Emily found her work pleasant and to her liking. She saved all the money she could and, on her days off, she visited the market stalls where she looked for cheap jewellery from which she could make her own. Of course, it would be impossible to make jewellery like that in Bella’s workshop. However, she occasionally got a bargain, when the stall-keeper didn’t realise the value of a piece, so her hopes grew of beginning on a single beautiful brooch.
It was on a visit to the market that Emily bumped into Adam. She was sifting through some cheap brooches when he spotted her. He was surprised to see her in a chambermaid’s uniform, and since she hadn’t noticed him, he watched her for a moment or two, revelling in the joy of having found her.
He crept up behind her and put his hands over her eyes. “Guess who?”
“Adam!” She thrilled at his voice, and they stood beaming at one another. So, he hadn’t finished up as a dragon’s dinner! She was so happy!
Emily was about to ask her brother lots of questions when the smile vanished from his face. His eyes strayed over her shoulder, and she saw them glaze over. She turned quickly to follow the direction of his gaze, but it was then that he gave her a hefty push. As she fell, Emily glimpsed familiar turquoise eyes mocking her from under a nearby market awning. Emily sprawled across the brooches, demolishing the stall.
By the time she had apologised and helped the angry elf sort out his stall, Adam had disappeared. Emily was shocked and upset. She searched the market for her brother, but there was no sign of him or of the mischievous elfin maiden. She couldn’t understand why Success should treat her like this. No doubt it was the elf’s influence that had made Adam behave so strangely.
Emily shrugged and set off back to the hotel. For the moment, there was nothing she could do. At least, she knew that Adam was alive and well, even if Success had somehow turned his head. As Emily left the Market Square, a peeling poster on a wall caught her eye. It was faded and out of date, but announced a performance by Adam the Trickster, the Dragonteaser. It had to be her brother, she thought, even if she hadn’t had the chance to ask him about his meeting with the dragon. Perhaps she could find him, where did it say? She made out the words Starlit Rooms with difficulty. Wasn’t that the theatre behind the hotel? She’d never been that way, even if it was close to work, maybe she’d pay a visit. She had to find Adam and warn him of the danger of Success. The elfin maiden was capable of taking you over and, after having led you astray, abandoning you without hesitation.
As she hurried off to the theatre, Emily thought about Adam. Judging by the Sold-Out sticker, he had been very popular, drawing big crowds. Why else would Success have sought him out?
At the theatre, she asked about her brother, but everyone from the Manager to the Cleaning Elf agreed that Success had led off Adam. “And where will I find Success?” Emily asked impatiently, but the elves just shrugged and smiled knowingly. It was the same smile that Adam had received when he was looking for Success and the same she had received at the house with the orchard. Emily knew what it meant now and what to do about it. She wouldn’t chase after Success; she would attract her because now she was ready to start.
She went to see Sparkla the Goldsmith where she struck a deal. Emily could use his forge on her days off. Whatever she made, he would put in his window and, if they sold it, he would take one-third of the profit.
She came in on Wednesday morning, whereupon the jeweller lit the forge for the first time in many years. Sparkla was looking forward to seeing Emily Dragonfly in action, but even he, with all his years, had never seen anything like this. From unpromising bits of brooches and necklaces, bracelets and rings, Emily melted, hammered, twisted and soldered together an exquisitely beautiful brooch. Not her quicksilver hands, but her eyes startled the elf. He leaned forward and tugged at his pointed ear as he watched her with interest. She was like a person possessed in a feverish trance. When he spoke to her, she did not hear him; he might as well have been invisible. Her work engrossed Emily—and what work! What beauty! The old elf admired the delicate filigree wings in perfect proportion to the dragonfly’s body and the silver fairy mounted on its back, wearing a sublime golden crown. Sparkla had lived one hundred forty-fo
ur elfyears, an advanced age for an elf, but in all that time, he had never seen craftsmanship to compare. Not since the days of the Old Dwarves had there been such workmanship, he was sure of that. The girl was a genius, and he took his hat off to her. But he put it on again because his hair was thin and his head soon got cold.
When she had finished, Sparkla took the brooch and laid it on a velvet cushion in his window. He placed a ticket next to it with the words By EMILY DRAGONFLY printed on it, but he didn’t mark a price. Emily asked him why not, but the old elf smiled slyly, put a finger against his nose and winked. “Come back next Wednesday, and you’ll find out,” he said mysteriously.
If Emily had gone straight back into the shop, she would have seen the peculiar sight of a one hundred-and-forty-four-year-old elf skipping, whooping and chanting, “I'm going to be rich!” over and over again.
On Wednesday, as Emily neared the goldsmith’s shop, Sparkla was already peering around the door up the street. When he saw her, the goldsmith waved excitedly and beamed. Emily quickened her pace, sensing that something was in the air. As she entered the shop, the elderly elf greeted her with two bulging bags of coins, one in each hand. “For the brooch,” he grinned.
“That much!” Emily cried, taken aback.
“It comes from not putting a price on the goods,” the wily elf smiled. “You see, all the posh elves have been bidding for the right to buy the brooch. It went to Lady Elgiva from the High Woodlands. And, to think, we have a waiting list of thirty-four takers at about the same price!” The elf dropped the bags of gold and grabbed the startled girl, leading her off in a wild jig around the shop. What a strange sight, a one-hundred-and-forty-four-year-old elf jigging with a human girl almost twice his height!
“You must give up your job at the hotel at once. So must Nova! She can be your assistant,” Sparkla declared, excitedly. “There’s no time to lose. Work to do, my girl! Now we have the money, we can buy the materials. We’ll be rich, rich, RICH!”
Within a month, word spread that Emily Dragonfly was making brooches again. Beautiful, wealthy elfin maidens would not go out in public unless a dragonfly brooch clasped their robes. Elfin high-society was in a state. Fathers and husbands, boyfriends and would-be-boyfriends went to desperate lengths to obtain a brooch: elves offered others enormous sums for the brooches they had, whilst even more offered huge bribes for a place on the waiting list. All this time, Emily and Nova worked feverishly to keep up with demand. Emily always refused to change her design, but she altered the materials and tiny details so cleverly that no two brooches were ever alike. This made them even more collectable. The word spread that wealthy elves had bought several of the brooches and the waiting list never grew shorter.
Sparkla took care of money matters. His bank account grew. Indeed, he was so busy taking money and orders for Emily’s work that he had no time for his repairs. He became tetchy with elves who reasonably pointed out that he had had their watches and damaged brooches for months. He suggested that they should buy a fine new golden one, like his own, which he’d purchased from his old rival, Ticka, whose shop was two doors away. Sparkla became very unpopular, but while the money was pouring in and the girls were working hard, he didn’t care.
Therefore, it came as a severe blow when a beautiful elfin maiden came into his shop one morning. Sparkla had never, not in his wildest dreams, expected her to walk into his shop. Oh, he recognised her, all right. There was no mistaking those eyes, those beautiful turquoise eyes, so beguiling, promising the world and everything in it. Those eyes held him now. “No,” Sparkla croaked, “go away! Please! Please, she’s not here!” he lied, uselessly.
The maiden smiled. “Oh, but she is, Sparkla. I'm never wrong about these things.”
“Please, please leave us alone!” the old elf begged.
“That's what I want to do,” the temptress smiled.
“It is?”
“Yes, leave you alone, quite alone,” she said with a malicious honeyed tone.
“No!” Sparkla wailed.
“Now, now, old elf, don't be so upset! Perhaps I’ll leave you Nova, after all.”
“Nova? No! Take Nova, if you like, but leave me Emily!”
The elfin maiden smiled and walked into the workshop, her long, blonde hair falling around her shoulder as she moved. A moment later, she returned, holding Emily’s hand.
“It's all right, Sparkla,” Emily said. “I have been waiting for Success to come to me. I expected it and I will go with her, but this time, with my feet on the ground. Give me two bags of coins, that’s all I can carry. You can keep the rest. You see, things aren’t so bad! I’ll take two or three brooches too.” She pinned one to her blouse.
“What will I do without you?” Sparkla wailed.
“Oh, you’ve plenty to do,” Emily smiled sweetly, “like winning back all your old friends, who brought you their repairs when times were hard. You have quite a backlog, you know!”
Sparkla flushed and hung his head. He knew Emily was right. When he raised his head, they were gone.
“Never mind, Nova,” the crafty elf chuckled. “We won’t be poor again, so you can stay and help in the shop. Emily was right,” he reflected, “friends are precious. Maybe I’ve been a blinded by greed. But now I’m rich, I can spend my time winning back my old friends.” But, even if he had reached one-hundred-and-forty-four elfyears, in that time, Sparkla had learned nothing about true friendship. One day, much later, he died rich and friendless.
Success took Emily out of Aldebaran into the countryside, where they met up with Adam. His smile was friendly, and he said the right words of greeting, but Emily could tell that he wasn’t himself. His eyes were glazed, still beguiled by Success, not the old Adam that she knew and loved. Emily would have to try to break the spell. For her own part, she wasn’t going to fall prey to Success's false charms a second time. This time, she would keep her wits about her and not trust the maiden of the all-promising eyes and of the silken alluring voice.
Now Success used that voice: “Adam and Emily,” she said with an entrancing smile, “you are both so charming, I have decided to take you to meet some important people. I'm going to lead you to the Citadel of Wealth.”
“Oh ay,” Adam breathed, excitedly, “I'd like that!”
“Mmm,” Emily pursed her lips, “we can hardly present ourselves like this. What about our servants?”
“Servants?” Success opened her turquoise eyes wide.
“Ay, my dwarf and his pixy,” Adam said, his quick wits sharp as ever. “I left them at the artist's studio. I really must insist!”
“Very well, of course, I can arrange that.” It pleased Success when people had servants.
They headed away from the city, towards the sunset, each holding Success by the hand, one in a dizzy trance and the other coolly level-headed.
IV
The Citadel of Wealth
19
Gilded roofs, golden towers and gilt turrets circled the brow of the hill like a splendid crown; from there they blazed sunlight in a boastful message to everyone outside their massive walls. A plaque gracing those walls proclaimed:
“This Citadel, Poor World, was built topped by a crown
to display the wealth within.”
Success brought them right under these walls for the four friends to gaze up in wonder. They had no idea of the splendour inside where each window ledge and door frame was carved in jade. Bulls’ heads, pouncing jaguars and arched scorpions menaced coiled serpents, demons and dragons across the narrow jade-green streets. Way above them, blazoned banners, worked in gold and silver thread, unfurled lazily in the breeze at every pinnacle. Wherever the eye rested in the Citadel, it was struck by rich detail, charm and beauty.
Adam was the first to take his gaze from the Citadel. When he turned around, he found a member of their party gone.
“Where’s Success?”
The others dragged their eyes from the Citadel and blinked around them. There was no sign of t
he elf.
“She's pretty good at disappearing,” Emily muttered. “In fact, she makes a habit of it.”
For the first time in several days, Adam addressed his three companions: Lar, Palustric and Emily.
“There’s no point in standing around here; we might as well go into the Citadel.”
Emily smiled happily because Adam was back to his old self. With Success around, he’d not even looked their way, never mind spoken to them. In the elf’s presence, her brother was no more than a marionette.
“Success wanted us to come here, so let’s explore,” the till-devoted Adam set off towards the fortified gateway which guarded the drawbridge across the moat.
In the gateway, two guards barred their way with crossed pikes and two others came out of a small room in a corner tower. Across the chest, their burgundy silk uniforms bore the emblem of a golden fist clenching a laden purse.
A guard told Emily that no-one was permitted into the Citadel unless he could demonstrate sufficient means. Emily held up her bags of gold while Adam pulled out his bag of coins too.
“We're not beggars,” he said, trying not to sound rude.
“Quite so,” one of the guards smiled, pressing his hands, heavy with gold rings, together in a gesture of apology.
“He's a goblin,” Lar whispered to Emily, nervously. “They’re all goblins, Mistress.”
Emily knew that from their ugliness, but their friendliness made her feel more at ease. The sumptuous goblin guards’ uniforms, deep burgundy velvet embroidered with lions in gold thread, also helped to soften their appearance.
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