by Anthea Sharp
“My lady,” he said. “Making your acquaintance this evening was like opening my eyes to see a field full of daffodils, their golden faces turned toward the sun.” He gave a low bow, and made a flourish with his right hand. His diamond cufflinks sparkled in the candlelight.
“Thank you,” she said. There was something about the intensity of Roderick’s gaze that made her want to hurry out of the room. She turned to face the tailor. “Goodnight,” she said.
“Goodnight,” Tom said. He glanced at the elderly women, and then back at Maude. He grinned. “I look forward to speaking with you tomorrow.”
“That would be lovely,” she said. She exchanged pleasantries with the other guests and left the table. She could feel Roderick’s eyes on her back as she walked out of the room.
Maude headed up the wide, curving wooden staircase to the second story, and then down the hall to her bedchambers. She unlocked the double doors and closed them behind her, sliding the bolt shut with a loud click, and then hooked the brass chain lock. The cool summer breeze that wafted in through the open windows carried the scents of earth and pine trees. The bedframe and chest of drawers were made of elaborately carved walnut, and a pair of pink, over-stuffed chairs sat in the small sitting area on one side of the large and spacious room. A tiny clockwork bird she’d designed—her one concession to mixing work and vacation—rested on her nightstand, moonlight glinting off its metal wings. It was a homing device of sorts, programmed to find either her or Gerhardt, depending on which way a switch was flipped. She’d tested it in the city, and had been looking forward to seeing how well it would perform at a greater distance.
She closed the windows and pulled the curtains shut, and then took off her boots and stockings. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this tired. It seemed like it had been two weeks since they’d left home, but it had just been yesterday morning. She slid out of her silk dress, hanging it carefully in the closet, and then put on her nightgown. Yawning, she climbed into bed and turned off the lamp.
Soft light from the moon and the stars shone in through the window on the wall across from her bed. She’d forgotten to draw the curtains on that window. She’d rest her eyes briefly, and would get up and pull the curtains closed in just a minute…
* * *
Soft and charming music tickled Maude’s ears. She opened her eyes and blinked. Moonlight streamed in through the window, casting silvery shadows over everything. It was the middle of the night—everyone must surely be asleep. So where was that wondrous melody coming from?
The song continued to play. She couldn’t quite make out what instruments were playing—were the higher notes from a flute, or a piccolo? Was the stringed instrument a violin or a viola? She started to sit up to figure out where the music was coming from, and then realized she couldn’t move.
It was as if she’d been turned to stone. No matter how hard she tried, the only thing she could move was her eyes.
This had to be a dream. She’d had dreams before where she could fly through the air like a bird, or where she’d be in one place, and then suddenly find herself in another.
But it didn’t feel like a dream. She lay curled up on her right side, all of her tucked under the down comforter except one hand that had become chilled. She could smell the sweet, soothing scent of the lavender and rose potpourri that sat on the nightstand next to her bed. And the spot where the piece of boning had dug into her side earlier itched. These sensations all seemed far too real for this to be a dream.
A sharp click came from the double doors to her suite. Maude looked in that direction as best she could, since she couldn’t turn her head. The bolt on her door slid back on its own. She watched, her heart thumping, as the brass chain unhooked itself, as if lifted up into the air by an invisible hand.
She had to be dreaming. She had to. Things didn’t just move on their own!
The door opened and a tall, thin man slipped inside, pulling the door shut behind him.
Maude tried as hard as she could to scream, but she couldn’t utter even the slightest sound.
She watched, her eyes wide, as the man walked across the room toward her bed. There was something strange about his shoulders, as if they were misshapen in some way. Suddenly she recognized him—Roderick, the odd guest she’d met at dinner. The purple and black feathers on his short cape looked gray in the light of the moon.
What was he doing in her bedchamber? What had he done to her—and what was he planning on doing?
Her insides felt as though they’d been tied in knots. She watched, unable to pull away, as Roderick sat down on the edge of her bed and took her hand in his. The cold, hard metal of the ring he wore on his pinky finger rubbed against her skin. She willed herself to sit up, to pull her hand free from his, to push him off her bed and hit him over the head with the crystal potpourri dish.
She couldn’t move even the tiniest muscle.
“My dearest Maude,” he said. The moonlight cast dark shadows across his face. “I apologize for disturbing your slumber, but I simply couldn’t wait until tomorrow. I caused this lovely music to play in order to awaken you. I have fallen in love with you, and want you to be my bride.”
His bride? Who broke into a woman’s rooms, did something so she couldn’t escape—or even speak at all—and then proposed?
“I am, as I’m sure you’ve surmised by now, a magician.” He raised an eyebrow and the beautiful music stopped, leaving the room silent. “I offer you my hand and my heart. I cannot live another day without you.”
He waved his free hand in the air. Sparkles of red and gold streamed through the air, swirling around and around, and then vanished.
“Please say yes, my dear,” he said.
Maude clenched her jaw, and realized he must have removed his spell. She yanked her hand out of his and pushed herself to a sitting position, her fear replaced by anger. She was so furious she couldn’t think of anything to say. What kind of man thought this type of proposal even remotely acceptable? She balled her hands into fists and glared at him.
The corners of Roderick’s mouth twitched.
“Sweet Maude,” he said. “Come, now. This may seem a bit untoward, but my hasty approach was fashioned out of love and need for you in my life. Accept my offer, and I will build you a castle to match your wondrous beauty.”
She kicked him as hard as she could. Roderick fell off her bed and landed on the carpet with a loud, satisfying thunk. He rose to his feet, adjusted his cape, and then looked down at her, his eyes narrowed. In the moonlight, his eyes looked like the diamonds that adorned his cufflinks—as clear and cold as ice.
“Get out,” she said. “Now.”
“How dare you refuse me,” he said, his voice rough. “Any other woman would count herself lucky if I had but a passing interest in her charms.” He waved the fingers of one hand in the air. “You will agree to wed,” he said. “I will make certain of that.”
He turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut so hard that a picture fell off one wall.
Maude took a deep breath. She’d better wake her brother and tell him what had happened. Who knew what Roderick would do next? She began to move toward the edge of the bed, and then felt herself sinking back down until she lay flat on the mattress. She tried to resist, but it was as though an unseen force controlled her body.
As her eyes closed on their own, she realized the magician had cast another spell on her.
* * *
Maude woke to find the late morning sun streaming through her window. She stretched and yawned, wondering how she’d managed to sleep with all that bright light shining in. The sun was so high she must have missed breakfast. She wondered why Gerhardt hadn’t come to check on her—they’d agreed to go for a stroll in the forest that morning. He had mentioned their plans to Roderick at dinner, and—
She sat bolt upright as she remembered the events of the past night. Roderick had broken into her room, cast a spell on her, and tried to
get her to agree to marry him. She had to find Gerhardt and tell him right away!
She whipped the covers aside, and then paused. That had to have been a dream. She must have had one too many glasses of wine at dinner. Roderick couldn’t possibly be a magician.
She chuckled at herself, slung her legs over the side of the bed, and wriggled her feet into her right slipper. Her left sat on the floor, just out of reach. She crouched down to pick it up, and then froze.
A purple feather lay on the carpet on the other side of the nightstand.
Maude swallowed and stared at the feather. It must have fallen off of Roderick’s cape and stuck to her dress. Her memory of him putting her under a spell and then proposing had just been a dream.
She glared at the feather, and then jammed her slipper on her left foot and stood up. Where was Gerhardt? It must be almost noon. She headed toward the washroom, and then skidded to a stop.
Two more purple feathers lay in front of the double doors to her bedchamber, and the painting that had been knocked off the wall of her chamber in her dream rested on the floor next to the feathers.
Prickles ran down her spine. There was no way three feathers from Roderick’s cape could have stuck to her dress, or her shoes, or anything. And the painting laid on the floor right where she’d seen it fall.
It had been real after all.
* * *
Maude pulled out her lightest dress and pulled it on as quickly as she could. She laced up her walking boots, unbolted her door, and then paused, one hand on the wooden door frame. She dashed across the room, grabbed the tiny clockwork bird off of her nightstand, and jammed it into her skirt pocket. She hurried down the hall to Gerhardt’s room. He didn’t answer her knock, so she ran downstairs to the concierge’s desk. A young, dapper man sat behind the counter reading a book, one finger toying absently with his immaculately groomed mustache.
“Excuse me,” she said. “I’m looking for my brother, Gerhardt. Did he perhaps leave a message for me?”
“Oh yes,” the young man said. He set his book down and pulled a small, folded piece of paper out of a cubbyhole behind him. “Here you are, miss.”
Maude took the slip of paper from him. “Thank you,” she said, and stepped away from the counter and unfolded the note. Her heart sank as she read the words.
* * *
I knocked earlier but you didn’t answer. I knew you were tired from the journey, so when Roderick suggested a short hike I agreed so that you could sleep in. Back before lunchtime.
—Gerhardt
* * *
She pressed her free hand to her mouth. Her brother didn’t know Roderick was a magician—and Roderick had said he’d make certain she’d agree to marry him. Gerhardt was in danger!
“Are you okay, miss?” the man at the counter asked.
“Yes,” she said. She set her jaw. “Yes, I am. Would you happen to know which trail my brother and his…friend…planned to hike?”
“Of course,” he said. He picked up a folded paper map and handed it to her. “They were talking about it when they left. It starts nearby and winds up into the foothills. It’s called ‘Death by Glass.’” He chuckled. “Although I don’t know why—that’s a silly name. There’s no glass anywhere out in the forest.”
“Thank you,” Maude said, trying not to focus on the fact that the word ‘death’ was in the name of the trail. Roderick wanted to convince her to marry him—he wouldn’t hurt her brother.
Or would he?
She found the trail on the map, and traced the curving line with a shaking finger. The trail started a short distance from the inn. She had to find her brother before Roderick did something to him that would force her to agree to be the magician’s bride.
Although she wasn’t exactly sure how she’d stop him. She worked with clockwork machinery, and didn’t know the first thing about magic.
She took a deep breath, and then clasped the map to her chest and ran outside into the bright summer sunshine.
* * *
A few hours later, Maude was sweaty and hungry and tired and covered with dust, and had begun to wonder if she’d ever find her brother at all. The trail looked like a short, squiggly line on the map, so she hadn’t realized it went on for many, many miles. It was now mid-afternoon, and she hadn’t seen another soul except for birds and a few bushy-tailed squirrels.
She stopped at a small stream and kneeled down next to it, and then cupped her hands together and dipped them in to the water. She brought the water to her parched lips, took a sip, and then froze as she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye.
Roderick walked down the trail toward her. He wore dark trousers, a purple shirt, and a hat with purple and black feathers poking out of one side. He led a tall stag by a rope tied around its neck.
Maude rose, wiped her wet hands on her skirt, and walked out to the middle of the trail. Roderick slowed to a stop, tugging the rope so the stag stopped as well. The poor thing seemed docile. What on earth was Roderick doing with the stag? And where was Gerhardt?
She straightened her shoulders and waited as Roderick approached. Her heart beat so loudly it felt like having a drum inside of her chest.
“Good day, my lady,” he said. He touched a hand to the brim of his hat, and then stopped a few feet away. “You look quite lovely this afternoon. Have you considered my offer?”
“I have no interest in your offer,” she said. She yanked a small twig out of a lock of her hair. “Where is my brother?”
Roderick chuckled and glanced at the stag, and then back at her.
“I have taken certain…precautions…to ensure you will make the right decision,” he said.
“I’m not marrying you,” she said. She put her hands on her hips. “You can cast all the magic spells you want, but I’m not going to say yes. And if you just want to marry me, why don’t you cast a spell to make me do so against my will?”
Roderick shook his head. “Obviously that wouldn’t be right,” he said.
“Then why is coercing me okay?
“Because you have to agree out of your own free will,” he said. “If I help convince you, that’s fine—as long as you make the final decision. I am a man of integrity.”
That certainly seemed debatable. Maude stamped her foot on the ground, and then winced. Her feet weren’t used to this much walking.
“I’m not going to agree,” she said. “Now where is my brother?”
Roderick smiled, and then turned his head to look at the stag as if he were admiring it.
Maude furrowed her brow. Why didn’t he answer? She turned her head and looked at the stag. It was in its prime, with thick, tawny fur, and a large rack of antlers. It’s big, hazel eyes looked strangely familiar. It dropped its gaze down to the ground, almost as if it were sad. It must be sad, since Roderick had a rope tied around its neck. And what was he doing with the stag in the first place? It was as if—
She caught her breath and her eyes widened.
The stag was her brother! Roderick had transformed Gerhardt into a deer!
She screamed and ran at the magician. She beat at his chest with her fists, and then began to kick his shins.
Roderick muttered something, and then she fell to the ground, unable to move.
As she lost consciousness she realized he’d cast yet another spell on her.
* * *
Maude awoke to find herself looking up at a ceiling high above her made from elaborately painted tiles. She stared at the tiles for a moment, trying to discern exactly what the colorfully painted figures were doing. It looked like a man chasing a unicorn through the trees. Behind him trailed a fox, and was that a bird or a dog behind the fox?
This didn’t look like the bedchamber at the inn. She blinked and tried to get her bearings.
She lay on her back in a rectangular container made of thick glass in a wide, spacious hall. The ceiling and walls were covered with elaborately painted tiles. Her hands were on her chest, her right hand on top of th
e left. The cool air smelled of licorice and stone. Where on earth was she?
She turned her head to her left to see Roderick doing something with a collection of crystal vials that sat on a tall, mahogany table. A large glass box rested next to the vials. She pushed herself up to a sitting position.
“Where am I?” she asked, her tone sharp although she could feel herself quaking inside. “And what have you done with Gerhardt?”
He’d better not have hurt Gerhardt, or she’d… Maude bit her lip. Was there even anything she could do to fight Roderick without him making her fall asleep again?
Roderick smiled and scurried over to stand next to the box. He held one of the vials in a hand.
“My dear Maude,” he said. “It’s so lovely to hear your sweet voice. It’s like listening to the beautiful melodies the birds sing to one another in the morning.”
“I am not your pet parakeet,” she said. She rested a hand on the edge of the glass box and peered over the edge. Wide tiles of polished granite lined the floor. “Why am I here? And where is Gerhardt?”
“I brought you to this secret vault under the ground,” Roderick said. “No one else—no one else alive, that is—knows this beautiful, wondrous palace even exists. I only found it myself last spring. It was carved out of the very rock itself, hundreds of years ago. This is where I will give you one more chance to agree to be my bride.”
Maude opened her mouth, but she was so infuriated she couldn’t speak. The man was clearly insane.
Roderick showed her the vial he held. It contained what appeared to be a cloud of blue smoke.
“This receptacle contains the young gentleman who told you which trail you’d find your brother on earlier this morning,” he said. “Although he did not, of course, know what shape your brother would be in at the time.” He held up the crystal vial and raised a thick, bushy eyebrow. “I turned that young man into a vapor, and captured his essence.”