The Wildkin’s Curse (26 page)

As Aubin glanced back to where Priscilla sat on a gilded bench, her shoes kicked off and one hand bent down to massage her feet, Liliana shut the door in his face.

‘Of course I'm not going to hunt your mother down!' Zed said as soon as he was sure they were alone. ‘How can you think such a thing, let alone say it? You've got to be more careful, Merry, else it'll be
you
losing your head!'

Merry jerked his arm away but did not speak again, his lips pressed together, his face white as parchment.

‘Come and sit down,' Zed said. ‘You look worn out. Is your chest hurting?'

‘A little,' Merry admitted.

‘Are you feeling sick? Dizzy?' Zed asked anxiously.

‘I'm fine. I'll sit down for a moment. Stop fussing,' Merry replied irritably.

He took his lute bag off his shoulder and looked around for somewhere to sit. They were standing at the edge of a vast courtyard with a long oblong pool in its centre, surrounded by lines and squares of trees clipped into fantastic shapes. Gleaming towers of glass and steel soared high on each side, with the tallest and most fragile at the far end. The wide blue expanse of the sea could be seen through the translucent tower, which contained nothing inside but a spiral staircase winding up and up and up to a small room at the very height. At the base of the tower was a long arcade, its roof supported by delicate iron columns forged to look like stylised vines and flowers. It met in the centre, with an immense, iron filigree gate that barred the entrance into the tower. On either side was a series of huge glass windows, but Merry could not see what lay within because they glared red, reflecting the last rays of the setting sun.

Swans floated peacefully on the water. Zed seized Merry's arm and pointed. Without a word, the three friends rushed to the pond, leaning over the stone embankment and calling to the swans, trying to reach them. They were too far away, though, and there was no way they could seize a feather.

Liliana bent and began to unbuckle her shoes, but Zed caught her arm. ‘You can't strip off and swim in the king's pond! It'll cause a scandal! No, we'll have to try and entice the swans to swim closer. Maybe if we threw them some bread?'

‘We'd better be quick,' Merry said. ‘Any moment now, everyone will start moving to the banqueting hall for the feast.'

‘We'll come back after the feast. It'll be dark then and no-one will see us plucking a feather.' Liliana sat down on the embankment and stared at the Tower of Stars with grey, troubled eyes. ‘How do they keep those glass walls from toppling down? Imagine if some child accidentally kicked a ball into it.'

‘I don't think this is the sort of place a child is allowed to kick a ball around.' Merry tilted his head back to gaze up at the top of the tower. ‘Look, there's a window up there, at the very top. I wonder if it's true clouds float through?'

Zed and Liliana craned their necks to see. The pointed roof of the glass tower caught and refracted the last rays of the sun, shining so bright it hurt their eyes.

‘I thought I saw someone move up there!' Merry said. ‘Do you think she's watching us?'

It made him feel somehow uneasy.

‘There's no-one there,' Zed said. ‘It must've been your imagination.'

Merry stared up at the window, where he had seen a brief flash of white, then fell to studying the tower, wondering how on earth they could ever manage to rescue the princess without alerting every soldier in the palace.

The sun set, and Merry slowly became aware that figures were moving rapidly in the rows of windows at the base of the Tower of Stars, waving and jumping up and down. In the gathering twilight, Merry could not see very clearly. He got up and walked quietly forward, and with each step his heart grew heavier.

Each of the glass windows looked into a pen in which were held captive wildkin. There were ten omen-imps, leaping and shrieking in one glass cage, and a poor old broken-down river-roan, asleep on his feet in another. A whole host of wood-sprites pressed their sad triangular faces against the glass nearby. In another a grabvast was crouched, his massive shoulders pressed up against the ceiling, his head hunched down as he mournfully played with his bare toes which were splayed against the glass. An ancient, bald boobray hooted sadly, his immense black wings looking moth-eaten and grey. There were greengrigs, and pexies, and dobbies, and spunkies, and wild-wights, and one immensely tall, dark-skinned man who came to the window and stared out at Merry with glittering black eyes set in deep hollows on either side of a nose like a ship of bone. He raised his skeletal hands, chained together with bells, and beckoned urgently at Merry, who took a few steps back, his throat constricted.

He called to Zed and Liliana, who joined him at once, their faces filled with horrified dismay.

‘The wildkin zoo,' Zed said. ‘I've heard of it, but I had no idea . . .'

‘We'll have to set them all free!' Liliana declared. ‘Look at that poor grabvast! He can't even stretch out his legs, or sit up straight.'

‘Look, in there,' Merry said in a low voice. ‘Is that not . . .'

‘Lord Grim!' Liliana cried. ‘Can it be? Surely it cannot be?'

‘He is chained with bells,' Merry said.

Liliana flushed angrily. ‘Oh, it's a crime! It must be torture for him. How can they be so cruel?'

‘But why? What does it mean?' Merry asked.

‘It's the only way they could keep him confined,' Liliana said. ‘Come away! I cannot bear to see it. We have to do something.'

‘We need to make plans,' Merry said. ‘It's the spring equinox tomorrow. They have a feast that goes all day, and then they have a display of fireworks once the sun has gone down. It would be the perfect time to rescue Rozalina, I think, and the wildkin too, if we can. Everyone will be watching the fireworks, there'll all be that noise and smoke, people will be celebrating.'

‘Except we still have to get three more feathers.' Liliana looked longingly at the swans, floating on the still water.

‘And then we have to mend the cloak of feathers,' Merry said. ‘I'm guessing we just sew the feathers to the cloak, but which feather where?'

Zed and Liliana stared at him blankly.

‘Don't you remember? The Erlrune said we needed to sew the feathers to the cloak in their “true and rightful order” for the magic to be restored.'

‘But how are we meant to know what order? Did she tell us?' Liliana demanded.

‘I don't remember,' Zed said.

‘Neither do I,' Merry admitted.

‘Maybe in the order in which we found them?' Zed suggested.

Merry shook his head. ‘Surely not. The order in which we found the feathers has more to do with chance than design. I'm sure there must be a better reason behind which feather goes where.'

Zed sighed. ‘The Erlrune could have told us.'

‘Maybe she did, and we've forgotten. Or maybe it's important we work it out ourselves.' Even as he spoke, a dreamy expression came over Merry's face as his brain went to work on the problem.

They heard a distant clarion call of trumpets. ‘Time to eat,' Zed said, and got rather reluctantly to his feet. He was dreading the forthcoming banquet, with every eye of the court upon him, and the king's hunched and withered form to his left. ‘We'll try for the swan feather after supper.'

A pair of immense, filigree gates at the base of the tower were dragged open, and then guards in full armour marched out, holding long fusilliers. They stood at attention on either side of the door.

Out walked a girl, barefoot, dressed simply in white, her black hair falling in a silken curtain to her knees. A silver chain encircled her waist, the other end held by the gnarled hands of a stooped old woman who hobbled along painfully.

The black-haired girl walked across the courtyard to the pool, her cupped hands full of bread scraps. The swans all swam to her eagerly, honking in greeting, and snatching at the bread. As they squabbled eagerly, the girl reached out her slender white hand and plucked a feather from one outstretched wing. She then brought it to Zed, holding the swan feather upright as if it were a flower. She bowed her head to him, then looked up into his face with eyes of the deepest, most intense blue, offering him the feather.

‘I wish to fly free over the wave. Dark forces gnaw at the roots of the throne, bright ice shall cut to the very bone, my tower shall soon be my grave. Help me fly free.'

‘I will,' Zed said fervently, taking the feather. For a moment longer she gazed up at him, then she nodded, smiled, and turned and walked away towards the end of the courtyard, where servants were flinging open the doors of the banqueting hall. The old woman limped along behind her, still clasping the end of her chain, with two tall and superior-looking footmen striding behind, carrying a stiff leather muzzle on a tray.

The three friends were left standing in silence, Zed looking down at the swan feather in his hand. Merry glanced at Liliana. Her grey eyes were glowing, her hands clasped so tightly before her the knuckles were white.

‘She knew we were coming,' Zed said wonderingly. ‘She knew we needed the swan feather.'

‘Of course,' Liliana said, at her most intense. ‘Is she not the Teller?'

‘Was she not the most beautiful girl you've ever seen?' Zed said. ‘Her hands . . . her hair . . . and those eyes . . .' He looked at Merry, who nodded and tried to smile, but all his attention was on Liliana and the shadow that had darkened her face. She turned away, letting her curls fall across her cheek.

Merry reached out to touch her arm, but she shrugged him away, saying in a muffled voice, ‘They say her mother Shoshanna was so beautiful you could not look upon her face without falling in love with her. That is why Prince Zander kept her locked in the tower. Rozalina must look just like her.'

‘I've never seen a girl like her,' Zed said. ‘The way she looked at me, so pure, so trusting . . . she knows I've come to rescue her . . . she wants me to!'

Merry's brain began to get busy with the wildkin princess's strange and cryptic words. ‘I wonder what it means?
Dark forces gnaw at the roots of the throne . . . bright ice shall cut to the very bone . . .
'

‘It means we have to get her out of here,' Zed cried. ‘We cannot allow her to be locked up any longer. We have two more feathers to find. We have to find them tonight.'

‘But how?' Merry asked, feeling his weariness and pain pressing down upon him. ‘We have taken nearly seven weeks to find the first five feathers, how are we meant to find two in a night?'

‘We have to find a way,' Zed said. ‘I don't want her to feel frightened or alone anymore . . .'

‘Sixteen years she's been locked in that tower, and yet one look at her and Zed decides she cannot be confined a second longer,' Liliana mocked.

Colour rushed up at Zed's face. He said angrily, ‘You were the one who wanted our help, Liliana Vendavala, so don't you start dragging your feet now. Think about what we are to do!'

‘I could try and catch us a nightingale in the forest tonight,' Liliana said. ‘If I limed a twig, or set up a trap with a net and some corn . . .'

‘It's early for nightingales. We'll be lucky if we can find one,' Merry said.

Zed looked down towards the banqueting hall, bright light and music spilling out through the open doors. ‘I need to stay here. I cannot miss my uncle's memorial dinner. I'll need one of you to serve me. I shouldn't be seen to be without a retinue.'

‘I could not stomach watching all those starkin eat,' Liliana said. ‘I'll go in search of the Spear of Thunder. There must be a servant here who'll gossip with me in return for a jug of wine. I've been asking and asking for the past three days but have never met such a close-mouthed lot!'

‘Be careful,' Merry said anxiously. ‘If we draw attention to ourselves, if anyone suspects what we mean to do . . .'

‘I need to find out what happened to the spear!' she cried. ‘Shoshanna's prophecy . . .'

‘I know, I know. Spear of Thunder, smiting the throne of stars asunder. Maybe Rozalina will know. Maybe I could ask her,' Zed said, staring towards the banqueting hall.

‘Could you?' Liliana asked, her face lighting up.

‘And I'll ask the other squires,' Merry said. ‘Then I'll sneak away from the feast around midnight, and Lili and I will go down to the forest and look for nightingales. All right, Lili? All right, Zed?'

‘Mmm-mmm.' Hardly hearing, Zed nodded and strode away towards the bright doorway.

Merry and Liliana were left alone in the gathering twilight. Overhead a few stars glimmered. The swans were pale, serene shapes, floating in darkness, neck curving down, head pressed to their soft breasts.

‘Do you think she is the most beautiful girl you've ever seen?' Liliana challenged him.

Merry hesitated. A quick lie sprang to his lips, and yet he knew Liliana valued truthfulness over almost everything. He answered quietly, ‘She is indeed very beautiful. But beauty comes in many different forms, and for all of us it's different.'

There was a long silence. She stood still, her shoulder turned against him, her eyes on the swans. Merry, struggling to find the words, said diffidently, ‘I hope you don't mind too much . . .'

‘What?' she snapped, spinning to face him.

‘Zed . . .'

‘You are such a fool sometimes. Go on, go! Go and wait hand and foot on your precious starkin lord. I'll meet you at the postern gate when the feast is over.' And she strode off into the darkness, leaving Merry floundering and bewildered behind her.

Z
ED SAT AT THE HIGH TABLE, TRYING NOT TO STARE TOO
much at Rozalina, who sat on a footstool by the king's throne, her hands folded quietly in her lap. She seemed even more beautiful to him than before, a still, quiet centre in the hot, gaudy, perfumed room, where everyone whispered and laughed and sneered and mocked in their priceless, ridiculous clothes. The old woman who was her warden sat back in the shadows, eyes downcast, hands folded.