Janet put up her palm and felt small golden sparks land on it, really like stars. They shone, but they were not warm. The starbursts seemed purely illusory, because the little stars immediately dissolved into the skin of her palm. The lines of fate on her palm left glittering traces.
«You have a golden fate, but a dangerous one,» someone whispered in her ear, leaning over her shoulder. Janet had already realized that if she turned back, she would see no one but a swirling shadow that no one had cast.
The guards in front of the square were asleep. One of them had managed to fall asleep in a standing position, leaning on his spear. Janet accidentally caught his cuirass, and he began to sink to the ground. His armor clanked longingly.
There was someone in the square. Not asleep! There were some silhouettes moving. Were there people? No. Janet saw a lady in a sumptuous scarlet dress, and around her were stunted, ugly creatures, dressed as groomsmen and footmen. The ladys scarlet train was so long that it seemed to flow in a wave across the square. Her curly hair, too, grew so much that it flowed over the ground, as did the train. It seemed to Janet that they turned suddenly into living black snakes, one of which hissed wildly, pointing its head in her direction. The girl hurriedly hid behind a corner. There was a threat from the creatures in the square. She could feel it. It was better to stay out of their way.
A gilded carriage also stood in the square. Fire seemed to be shooting out of the horses nostrils, and the blankets on their backs were wings folded behind them. Janet blinked to drive away the illusion, but it didnt go away. The horses still seemed fire-breathing and winged to her.
«Thats enough!» The lady handed some young man, Janet thought it was Quentin, a whole purse of gold. As soon as it passed from hand to hand, jingling coins rained down on the young mans palms. Each one looked like a gold moon with a womans face, like the emblems in the fortune-tellers house. The coins seemed to sing a mischievous song. They slipped from the boys hands and rolled across the sidewalk. He rushed to pick them up.
«Theyre quick,» he complained.
«They are as nimble as you are,» said the lady indifferently. The ladys voice was ice-cold, and her train of fire stretched across the square. Janet noticed one coin bouncing and rolling toward the edge of the square. It did indeed have a face the size of a tail of coin carved into it. The chiseled lips rounded as if they were about to sing.
«And now you give me my order!» The lady held out her hand, her fingers were unnaturally long and thin. It looked as if the membranes between them were laced together. Or was it just a fancy piece of jewelry? Janet did not know what to think.
«Here, maam,» the young man handed her not colored ribbons but some sort of jars. He did not appear to be a peddler, but a druggist. So she had mistaken the young man for Quentin.
«Will that be enough for one unruly mind?» The lady inquired, peering at what appeared to be living worms inside the vials.
«It is more than enough!» The young man bowed.
«You said it the last time too,» the lady scolded him.
«But this potion is stronger. And if it isnt, youll have to work it out for yourself, and itll cost him his head.»
«Ill trust you one last time! Off you go!»
The young man bowed again.
Janet bent down to pick up a coin that looked like a living disc of sunshine rolling right at her feet. The coin did not burn her fingers, though it seemed a real flame. The face on the tail winked at its new mistress. Or did it just seem that way?
Janet looked out at the square and saw no one else in it. No lady, no groomsmen, no footmen with monstrous bodies. The square was empty. On the stones of the sidewalk, where the train of fire stretched, there was no ashy trace of the recent burning, either.
Could it be that her visit to the fortuneteller had influenced Janet in such a way that she began to see strange things? The girl stepped into the empty square. Somewhere there should be a carriage waiting to take her back home, but there wasnt. Janet walked through the empty square and turned nervously at every sound. Sometimes she thought she heard someone calling her name.
Suddenly she bumped right into Quentin. He was there all of a sudden, like an elf popping out of a snuffbox. A second ago the square was empty. And now he was standing right in front of her. There was a teasing grin on his face. And his box was gone.
Janet stared at him, not immediately startled when she heard a noise behind her. A carriage was hurtling across the square toward them.
«Look out!» Quentin covered her as the gilded carriage raced past.
«There are two great frogs instead of grooms,» said Janet, stammering. It seemed to her, somehow, that Quentin could confess everything shed seen. «Tell me, did you see it, too?»
Quentin was strangely silent. The freckles on his face blazed with the fire of shame. He even shuffled unsteadily from foot to foot. Janet noticed how unusual his shoes were: they had upward-curved toes, buckles shaped like crescents of the month, and bright green leather inserts, as if they were frogs! What an absurd suggestion!
«There are some things youd better not talk about with your tongue, or you might end up with no tongue at all,» muttered the young man. «And no head, either.»
He drew a meaningful line down his throat with his finger. It reminded Janet of a ball that seemed like someones head had been lifted off his shoulders.
«Talking about inscrutable things is unnecessary,» he added with a touch of bravado. «Youd better not fill your head with silly thoughts. But I have something to give the beautiful lady.»
He plucked a sparkling necklace out of his sleeve. It had two pendants in the shape of a crescent moon and a sun. Its doubtful that the necklace was made of real gold, most likely of cheap yellow copper, but Janet liked it. Quentin put it in her hand.
«Another rarity from the famous pedlar,» Janet smiled.
«To protect you from her!» uttered Quentin, suddenly becoming serious for a moment. The mischievous twinkle in his eyes faded, replaced by a pensive expression.
«Does it protect me from whom?» Janet didnt understand.
The boy moved backward instead of answering. The moonlight flickered across his face, and suddenly Quentins figure multiplied, as in a mirror with many compartments. He seemed to be standing both right and left, front and back. His monotonous figures, created by the moonlight, danced around her.
Janet looked here and there, trying to distinguish the true young man from the multitude of doppelgangers. Suddenly they were all gone. The girl looked around in vain for the boy, who was no longer there. Again all she could see was the empty, dark square. And the jewel was still clutched in her palm. Quentin hadnt even charged her for the necklace.
It would soon begin to dawn. In the distance, a bright streak appeared in the dark sky. That means, over the city, the sun is rising. Eternal night has not filled it forever. The spellbound people began to lazily wake up. Would they remember that they had been forcibly put to sleep, or was there a lapse in their memory?
Janet wondered why she hadnt fallen asleep with them all. The guards were the first to regain consciousness, and they began to stand up, their armor rattling. Probably the guards that her father had sent to escort Janet had awakened somewhere. She must fetch Nyssa from the fortunetellers house. Perhaps they could both make it home by noon.
The forest elf
Janet had a dream. She was walking through the woods. A creature was beckoning her into the thicket. It wore a mask of golden leaves, and behind it moved transparent green wings. Was it not an elf? He turned around and then disappeared around the bend in the path. Janet had to run to keep up with him. The forest around her grew darker and darker. The trail broke off, and the girl had to hack her way through the thicket. The thorns clung to her train, but she moved on anyway. Somewhere ahead she could hear clatter of hooves, as if a cavalry party was galloping this way. So there was a road nearby. There was no way a cavalry could have ridden through the thicket.
The branches scratched Janets hands. The birdsong suddenly stopped. A gnome ran right under her feet. He was in a great hurry.
«Her knights are coming!» He turned around and shouted to Janet as if it meant something to her. «The time of sacrifice is coming, now that they are here.»
Janet didnt understand him at all. What knights? What sacrifice? No sacrifices have been made in the woods since the days of the pagan gods. And they had been here so long it seemed legendary. Maybe he was confused about something.
She looked around, but saw no more of the elf in the golden mask. The dwarf had disappeared from view, too. And the clatter of hooves sounded quite close. Janet did see the galloping knights. But the road on which they rode, she could not see, as if the horses were treading on air, not on the driftwood. Suddenly the ground trembled beneath her feet. Thorns clung to her dress, and the knights rode past on their horses and paid no attention to her cries for help, as if she was in a looking glass from them. Or did they simply not care that another victim was dying in the woods? The ground began to suck her down like a viscous swamp, and one of the knights suddenly turned to look at her. His eyes were familiar to her: blue with golden speckles. She knew him and remembered the dragon-head helmet well.
Janet woke up in a cold sweat. Someone had just knocked on her window. The knock must have woken her up. It was quiet but insistent. At first she thought it was rain drumming on the glass, but the sky was clear. The moon shone with a measured pale light.
«Let me in, Janet,» it was Quentins voice. There he was, himself, outside the window, or rather, just his red head. «You dont want the sentries to shoot me. They have very formidable crossbows. I can see it from here.»
How the hell did he get up that high? And what does he want? He may have remembered that he gave her the bracelet and the necklace for free, and now he comes to the castle to ask for money. Would it not have been wiser in this case to come in the afternoon and contact to her father. Another salesman who had contacted the Earls daughter would have done so, but Quentin was different. The guy was out of this world! Blessed! Janet felt sorry for him, and hurried to the window. She didnt even have time to put on her negligee. Good thing her nightgown had a high neck and puffy sleeves. Quentin had nothing to stare at.
«How did you get in here?»
The answer came of its own accord. When she opened the window, Janet caught sight of him holding on to the wattles of scarlet and white roses, which had grown so overnight. Yesterday they had been stunted, but today they were all around the tower. She cant believe Quentin didnt bleed his hands clinging to them. Roses have sharp thorns.
«Youre out of your mind!» Janet watched as the young man sat down on the windowsill. He was very good at climbing to heights.
«I wish I had wings,» he admitted.
«Had you wings before?»
He looked at her with mild reproach, as if shed hurt his pride.
«Forgive me for calling you by your first name, Madam.»
«Youd rather call me Janet than Mistress. Why did you risk your life to try to reach me by the wall? Its dangerous. After all, the sentries could have seen you and shot you. Or you could have fallen down and crushed to death.»
«I dont think so. Im very handy,» he boasted, not unreasonably.
«If you think Im going to let you sleep in my bedroom, you are very much mistaken. I like you, but not that much.»
«I understand that. Young maidens usually like my merchandise better than my advances. A poor man like me can only dream of gorgeous ladies of noble blood, but never go near them.»
«Youve already been there,» she reminded him reasonably.
«Its business,» he said, looking intently at Janet. The moonlight was reflected in his eyes, which made them slightly sinister. The sharp ears werent hidden beneath his beret this time. It must have slipped off as Quentin climbed the wall like a wildcat.
«Have you come to offer those special ribbons you told the girls in the square about? I heard it as I drove by.»
«I want to tell about the fairies kingdom,» he corrected her, businesslike.
«About what do you want to tell?» Janet thought it was some kind of joke. «Is it about the fairies kingdom! Are you serious?»
«You dont believe in it!»
There was nothing to contradict that. Janet somehow even felt guilty and took a step away from the window. In the meantime, Quentin carefully tucked a lock of reddish hair behind his ear, as if he was trying to draw her attention to his pointed ears.»
«You may not believe in the realm of fairies, but there is a realm,» he suddenly shifted back to a respectful tone, as if her mistrust had put distance between them. A second ago he had acted like an old trusted friend, but now he was playing deference to his mistress again.
«Suppose I believe you. Whats in it for me? Youve already given me two gifts for nothing, even though I didnt believe in anything.»
«The third gift you will get on your own,» he promised. «You must go into the forest.»
Wasnt that what the fortuneteller had warned her against? Janet frowned. The moon was suddenly too bright, hurting her eyes.
«Go beyond the line; theres someone waiting for you,» Quentin asked in a low, hopeful tone.
For some reason she remembered the knight from her dreams. The line was a brook that gurgled near the edge of the forest. It was as if it separated the Earls lands from the dense woods. Perhaps Quentin was referring to some other magical line besides it. He speaks of a realm of fairies.
«Hes been waiting a long time, and he needs you,» the young man whispered quietly. «Because no one else can help him.»
A bird with a red spot on its forehead was circling the tower, croaking strangely, with a hoarse caw. Hearing it, Quentin beckoned Janet to be quiet, and began to descend slowly. This time the twigs of the roses hurt his palms, but it was as if he didnt notice. There was blood on the thorns.
«Its Blackness!» He whispered goodbye, evidently referring to the restless bird. «Beware of it!»
Beware of some bird? Janet couldnt understand why. Birds cant hurt people, unless they swoop down in a flock and strangle them to death.
Still, the girl decided to close the window tightly, and did the right thing. A birds beak immediately began pounding on the window frame. It was very insistently. The bird was clearly angry that it was not allowed in, but Janet, paying no attention to it, just tightly closed the curtains.
Already in the morning Janet remembered the night visit and the bird. Blackness! If that was the birds nickname, then the bird itself belonged to someone. Like a hunting falcon released after its prey and then lured back. Is her assumption correct? How she could to check.