Sleeping Beauty's Daughters (9 page)

And then they moved.

I gasped. “Oh, what are they?” I cried.

Symon swung the tiller, and I ducked as the boom came about. But before the boat turned completely, a fourth island erupted from the sea, closer to us. Only it was not an island—it was a head. A serpent’s head, with a jaw twice the size of the
Cateline
and a pair of dark, fathomless eyes that fixed on us as the boat spun around and we prepared to flee.

Up and up it rose, seawater cascading from its scales and splashing into the ocean. Its neck seemed to stretch to the sky, and it opened its enormous mouth as if to swallow us with a single gulp. Luna gave a wild shriek, and even Symon cried out, but I was too terrified to scream.

“The map was right,” I whispered. “Here be dragons.”

14

Of a Threat from Three Directions

T
he
Cateline
swung around, and then we were speeding over the water away from the sea-dragon, faster than we had ever gone before. We skimmed across the waves as the wind blew harder and harder, with a terrible sulfurous smell that made us cough and choke.

I glanced back and saw the monster rear up in the water, its head so high that it seemed to tower directly over us, though it was still a hundred yards away. Its scales were brownish-green, and its neck as thick around as the biggest oak in our forest. On its head spikes erupted in all directions, and it had nostrils that flared and teeth as long as branches, but sharp.

That was not the worst of it, though. When I turned to face front again, I saw a black sail in the distance moving toward us.

“It’s Manon’s boat!” I shouted. Symon pulled at the tiller and we veered swiftly to the right. Now we sailed at an angle as the sea-dragon approached from one side and Manon from the other. The acrid breath of the dragon whipped the waves into whitecaps, and I heard a roaring sound. I feared it was the noise of my own blood rushing through me and that I would faint. As we skipped wildly across the ocean, the sound grew louder and louder, and suddenly I understood its source.

Directly in front of us, the water rotated in a circle to a center that appeared like a great, white-foaming hole in the sea. There was no way to avoid it.

“Whirlpool!” Symon yelled, just an instant before the boat was caught in its deadly current. We were at the outermost rim. Our movement as we rotated seemed terribly slow, after our great speed just moments before. But the spiraling vortex pulled us steadily in. Our next circuit was faster, and the next faster still. In a great panic I worked the ropes of the sail as Symon struggled furiously with the tiller. It was no use. Faster and faster we spun, the world revolving before my eyes. I saw the serpent pass by, then the black sail of Manon’s boat, then the serpent again as we turned, ever closer to the hole in the center. Serpent, sail; serpentsailserpentsail.

Through my dizzy dread, I remembered the cruel things I’d said to Luna. I couldn’t bear it if they were the last words she ever heard from me. “Forgive me, Sister!” I cried out, just before the boat reached the center of the whirlpool. With a great sucking noise, the water pulled us below the surface, and we were gone.

Everything seemed to slow to a crawl. I saw Luna’s terrified face and reached for her, but she floated out of my grasp amid the shattered debris of Symon’s boat.

And then I saw something strange beyond all reckoning. The lutin, Leander, swam up behind Luna and took hold of her beneath the waves. I blinked my eyes hard, for the salt stung them, but when I opened them again, he was still there. He held my sister with one hand. Symon clutched the lutin’s shoulder, his own eyes wide with bewilderment.

Leander pointed to me and then to Luna. I kicked my legs hard and moved near enough to grab her arm. Then he motioned to his own chest and his mouth, and it seemed that he was telling me to breathe. My lungs ached for air, but I knew that if I tried to inhale, I would take in water and suffocate. Of course the lutin could breathe like a fish. But I could not. Still, it was impossible to hold my breath any longer. I let out the air I had been holding and drew in a breath, prepared to choke.

I did not choke. My lungs filled, and I gasped and breathed again. The others’ chests were heaving too, and I realized that we were all breathing below the surface of the sea. It was incredible, but it was happening.

Leander pointed the way ahead and began to swim like a dolphin, as I’d seen him do before. I kept my grip tight on Luna and kicked my legs, and the others kicked too, and paddled with their free hands. We were clumsy compared to the lutin, but we moved forward, swimming down into darkness.

I could barely see Luna’s arm where my hand grasped her, it was so dark. But then a bluish light moved toward us out of the murky depths. As it passed close by, I saw it was a bizarre-looking fish with bulging eyes and a sort of lantern affixed to its head. The lantern was giving off the blue light. Other similar fish emerged from the darkness and then disappeared again. Once I glimpsed a row of glowing blue dots, and then as we came closer I could make out a long, thin fish spotted with blue. A horrid phosphorescent snakelike creature scared me with a show of teeth, but it slithered into a cave between two rocks and didn’t bother us.

As we moved upward from the depths, daylight pierced the water enough for us to see more clearly. We swam through what looked like a forest of strange white branches that waved in the gentle current. Here, the fish were small and beautifully colored—bright blue, orange, yellow. Some were striped, others spotted, still others decorated with swirls of pink or green. They darted around us, above us, and below us, and I swiveled my head to try to see them all. My fear had left me completely, and I was all amazement.

Suddenly we swam into a cloud of tiny silver fish, so thick that I couldn’t see anything else. I clutched Luna tightly and tried to call her name, but my voice came out in a stream of bubbles. The fish surged in a circle and then were gone, and behind them came a huge turtle, flapping its winglike fins as if it were a bird flying slowly through the water. It was ridiculous and elegant at the same time, moving with such ease that it seemed completely unrelated to the awkward land turtle I’d seen in the woods near our palace.

We passed through the underwater forest and into a dim tunnel. Blue-green sparks danced off our bodies as we swam. I trailed my hand through the water, marveling at the way the light seemed to cling to it. We were our own lanterns now. I saw my expression of astonishment mirrored in the faces of the others.

The tunnel slanted upward, and at the top was the sparkle and gleam of sunlight. At last we rose to the surface, gasping in the rich air. The waves pushed us toward a glistening beach and tumbled us onto white sand, where we lay panting.

I rose to my knees and looked around. The sands ended in a field of flowers in a hundred strange shapes and colors. Tiny birds with wings that beat too fast to see and butterflies as vivid as the fish we’d swum beside flitted among them. The songs of other, unseen birds filled the air. The breeze was fragrant with a scent like Mama’s perfume.

“Oh,” I breathed in awe. It was so different from the stark, craggy landscape of our seaside cliffs and the shaded green of our forest. The lovely warmth, though, brought on a wave of tiredness, and I remembered with sudden alarm that I had no more devil’s shrub to keep me awake.

There was a stirring behind me, and I turned. Leander sat in the sand, leaning back on his hands. His clothing was luxurious, made of velvet and silk, and his long, dark hair waved over his collar. He didn’t even appear to be wet, though he’d just emerged from the sea.

Beside me, Luna struggled to her feet. “Who
are
you?” she challenged him.

He laughed at her belligerence. “I am Leander, Princess. Your uncle Leander. I am very pleased to meet you properly—though we did meet before, when you dove into the waves.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re our mother’s brother? The one who disappeared?”

“I am.”

“Why did you never come back? You broke your parents’ hearts!” Luna cried.

For the first time, Leander’s nonchalant smile faltered. “I had to disappear,” he said. “Manon was set on destroying me. She might have harmed my family, too—your grandparents, your mother. You cannot know what I sacrificed when I left, Niece.”

“But . . . could this be true?” Luna asked me.

I tried to remember our mother’s exact words. “Mama never told us her brother’s name. It could well have been Leander.”

She turned back to Leander. “So you were once a prince, and then you became an imp?”

He laughed again, his good humor restored. “I prefer not to use the word
imp
. Imps are nasty, brutish creatures. I am a lutin by choice—and it’s lucky for you that I chose to be one!”

I got to my feet, trying to comb my fingers through my dripping hair and adjust my dress, soaked and torn at hem and sleeve.

“You’ve been following us, haven’t you?” I asked.

“Indeed I have,” Prince Leander said. “You have had some fine adventures, I must say! But you have been very resourceful, you and your sister.”

“Resourceful?” Luna repeated, puzzled.

“Your pine pitch idea, when you were approaching Melusine—that was truly a stroke of genius.”

I could see that Luna liked the praise. To my surprise, though, she admitted, “That wasn’t my idea. It was Aurora’s.”

“Ah,” the prince said, raising an eyebrow. “Never-theless, it was a shrewd scheme. The two of you managed it very nicely. You work well together. And you, sir”—this was to Symon—“you are truly a master with sail and tiller!” The tips of Symon’s ears turned red as he scuffed his boot in the sand.

“Wait,” Luna said, her hands on her hips. “You were there? At Melusine’s Isle?”

“For a time,” he answered. “I swam beneath your boat and kept you from the rocks.”

That annoyed her. “Well, why didn’t you simply turn us?” she asked. “Or keep us from Melusine altogether?”

“I would never have let her harm you, dearest niece!” he said. “But, you see, I feared Manon might be watching. I did not want to reveal myself unless I had to. Your cleverness made that unnecessary. And is it not significant that you escaped from the Siren yourselves?”

Luna blinked in confusion. “What do you mean?” she demanded. But Leander only smiled.

“And you helped us to breathe below the water?” I asked him.

“It is one of my small talents,” he said modestly. “As long as you were touching me, or touching one who touched me, you could breathe as a fish does.”

“But you didn’t rescue us on the Island of Beasts,” Luna accused.

“No, I am only truly useful in water and air,” he said. “And again, you did not need my help there. You saved yourselves. Besides, the quicksand would have ruined my silk waistcoat.”

What a strange creature Leander was! So calm, so unruffled, so . . . not quite human. But I thought of what he’d said:
You cannot know what I sacrificed when I left, Niece
. Though his tone had been composed, the words told me that he had suffered.

Luna contemplated him for a moment and said, “Well, I’m pleased to meet you, too, Uncle—even though I didn’t know you existed a week ago.” She too had decided to accept him.

Then Leander’s face brightened and he rose from the sand, brushing off his fine clothing. “Ah, here comes our host,” he said.

We turned to see a woman walking toward us. She was small and shapely, very pretty—no, she was beautiful. Her lips were rosy and her eyes deep blue. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders to her waist. She was dressed in a gossamer gown of pale blue cinched with a darker blue sash, and her feet—like Luna’s—were bare.

“Princesses,” said Prince Leander, in a tone of pride and accomplishment, “meet your great-great-godmother Emmeline.”

15

Of an Island Out of Time

W
e stared at the woman in bewilderment. She must have been nearly two centuries old, but she looked no more than twenty. With a smile on her lovely face, she walked straight to me and took my hands. Her touch was warm and gentle.

“You left off a
great
,” she said to Prince Leander, and laughed, sounding like the wind chimes in our kitchen garden.

“Emmeline?” I asked uncertainly.

“Yes, dearest—at last! I have so longed to meet you, Aurora. Oh, you are as beautiful as your mother!”

“But—,” Luna sputtered. “But you don’t look old!”

“Luna!” I protested.

“And this is Luna,” Emmeline said, unoffended. “Sweet child! Let me look at you.” She released my hands and cupped Luna’s face. “Why, the short hair suits you perfectly! But to cut it with a piece of glass . . .”

“How—,” Luna began.

Emmeline brushed Luna’s curls back from her face. “I have watched everything, my darlings. You’ve faced such dangers! It is a testament to your strength of purpose that you have done so well.”

“It wasn’t only our strength, but Symon’s, and Prince—Uncle—Leander’s,” I corrected her. “Without them we would surely have died.”

“You did well, lad,” Emmeline said to Symon, and again he blushed. “And Leander! I set him a task—to find you and bring you to me. And I see he has succeeded.”

“I am at your service, milady, as always,” Leander said.

She reached out a hand, and he grasped it and brought it to his lips. Emmeline gave him a little half curtsy, and he bowed low to her, as if they were at a dance. Luna and I exchanged a grin at their funny little pantomime. Then, despite my joy at having found Emmeline at last, I couldn’t help yawning hugely. “You need tea,” Luna said immediately.

“The vial is empty,” I told her.

“Oh no!” She turned to Emmeline. “You must help Aurora,” she demanded. “She’s been awake for days, and now we’re out of devil’s shrub. Surely you have a potion or an enchantment that will work.”

Emmeline’s smooth brow creased with worry. “I have been working on something,” she said. “I do not know how much it will help. Let us go to my house, and I will prepare it for you. And you can have baths and fresh clothes and something good to eat.”

Emmeline took my hand and Luna’s, and we started up the path, disturbing a flock of rainbow-colored birds as we brushed through the flowers.

“If you’ve been watching us—through magic, I suppose—have you seen Mama?” I asked her. “Is she all right? Is she well?”

“Not well, but managing,” Emmeline said. “She knows of your quest. Your father has sent out ships, of course, but they will not find us here.”

Not well, but managing.
That was better than I’d feared. I wondered, then, if the sense of being watched I’d felt since we left home had been caused by Emmeline’s magic. But that feeling had been very dark and chilling. I couldn’t imagine that Emmeline would have caused it.

“Did you send Leander to keep us safe from Manon?” Luna asked. Her eyes were bright with curiosity.

Emmeline sighed. “Yes, dearest. I could not help you myself. Manon detests your mother, you, your sister—and especially me. She was so angry that I won Leander’s heart, and then when I changed your mother’s curse from death to a hundred years of sleep . . . well, she has sought revenge ever since. She would have destroyed me if she had found me. She is much stronger than I.”

I thought of the black sail that had been so close before the whirlpool sucked us down. “She was right behind us,” I said. “She may have followed us.” I turned and eyed the water anxiously.

Emmeline nodded, unsurprised. “Yes, she was close. But she will have to find her way here, and you know that is not easy. We have a little time yet.”

Luna could not stop chattering. “But what is this place? And how are you so young, Great-Great-Great-Godmother?” she persisted.

Prince Leander, walking behind us with Symon, chuckled. “A fairy’s exterior reflects her interior,” he said. “Emmeline is as beautiful as she is good.”

“Oh, stop!” Emmeline protested. “Really, it is mostly an illusion. I am as old as . . . well, I am very old indeed.” But it was impossible to believe, looking at her, just as it was incredible to imagine that Prince Leander too was ancient.

“And this island is a place out of time, just a little,” Emmeline went on. “The only way here is through the whirlpool, and the whirlpool is always changing position.”

“You conjured the whirlpool yourself?” Surely a fairy who could do that would be able to save me!

“It was rather difficult,” Emmeline admitted humbly. “It took me a very long time.”

“It’s a wonder we found it, out in the middle of the sea,” Symon remarked.

Emmeline’s wind-chime laugh bubbled out. “Not a wonder at all, Captain! It was entirely on purpose.”

“What do you mean?” Luna asked.

“The sea-dragon—he was mine. I am very proud of him. He pushed you toward the whirlpool, just as I had planned.”

Luna’s expression was both amazed and angry. I could understand why—that dragon had terrified us. “So we were never really in danger?” she asked. “I was so frightened!”

“Well . . . ,” Emmeline replied cautiously, “I am not entirely certain. A dragon is a difficult thing to control.”

“But if you can summon a dragon, Godmother, surely you can remove the curse from Aurora—can’t you?”

Emmeline sighed again. “I have worked very hard to do that. Since the moment Manon proclaimed the curse, I have been trying. I do not think I have the power. Still, I shall attempt it.”

The path widened then and became a gravel lane lined with tall, fernlike trees. At its end stood a white stone house, grand but not imposing. It was welcoming, with bright blue shutters on its long windows and flower beds bordering the front. Peacocks strode on the grass, stopping now and then to shriek and raise their turquoise tails like fans.

Luna was enthralled. She had once seen a picture of a peacock in a book, and for months she had begged Papa to bring us one, but he insisted that their harsh cries would be too disturbing for Mama. Now she darted onto the green grass toward the nearest bird.

“Wait, Luna!” Emmeline warned her.

But Luna, being Luna, ignored her and reached out to pet the bird. Immediately it stretched its long neck and nipped her, hard.

“It
bit
me!” Luna cried. “I’m bleeding!”

Symon, struggling to hide a smile, ran forward to shoo the peacock away, and it turned on him fiercely. He and Luna retreated as quickly as they could, but when their feet hit the gravel of the path, they both tripped and fell on their backsides. We three—Prince Leander, Emmeline, and I—burst out laughing as they curled into balls to protect themselves from the bird’s furious pecking.

“Help! It will kill us!” Luna howled. Emmeline stopped laughing long enough to speak a word that caused the irate bird to turn and stalk stiff-legged back onto the lawn.

“It isn’t
that
funny,” Luna said, standing to brush the gravel from her clothes, but even she had to giggle as another peacock came near Symon and he stiffened, ready to run.

“You don’t fear dragons or the Beasts of Gevadan, but a peacock—now that’s a formidable foe!” I teased them as we reached the door of the house.

Inside, it was just as beautiful as outside. The rooms were filled with light, their windows framed with gauzy white curtains that floated in the warm breezes. The walls were the lightest pastel colors, bare of artwork, but the ceiling of the entryway was painted with the myth of Apollo and Daphne: the nymph, escaping from Apollo, turning into a tree as she flees.

“First,” Emmeline said, “we must try to help Aurora. Come with me.”

We all followed her to a small sitting room with tall glass doors that opened onto a garden. On this ceiling Rapunzel leaned from her tower, her long golden braid reaching nearly to the ground.

Emmeline pointed to a bell that hung by the doors and said, “That bell is my warning signal. If anything comes through the whirlpool, it will sound.”

Anything
meant Manon, of course, and we grew silent. Then Luna asked, “Did it ring when we came?”

“It did,” Emmeline replied. “That is how I knew you were here. Though I had been watching you, so I expected you.”

Then she beckoned to me. “Come over here, darling.” We stood in front of a table that held a tray with a small pot and a spoon on it. The pot was made of shimmering mother-of-pearl.

“Are you going to cast a spell? Don’t you need a wand?” Luna asked.

Emmeline smiled. “Wands are really just for show. We do not often use them.” She took up the tiny spoon and dipped it in the pot. Then she chanted something in a low, musical voice, and sprinkled her potion over me. It had a marvelous smell, like lavender and rosemary and something a little darker. I breathed in deeply. A tremor passed through me. Suddenly I was awake, truly awake, as I hadn’t been for days and days. Then I sneezed violently, and all at once I was as tired as I had been before.

“Oh, Godmother!” I exclaimed. “For just an instant . . . oh, do try it again!”

“It is not strong enough,” she mourned.

“Try it again!” Luna pleaded, and Symon said, “Yes, please do!”

Once more, Emmeline sprinkled me with the powder, and I woke, and sneezed, and was tired. At Luna’s insistence she did it a third time, but the result was the same.

“I am so sorry, child,” Emmeline said. “I am just not skilled enough.”

Luna stamped her foot. “Why not?” she demanded. “You’re a fairy, are you not? Why is Manon stronger than you?”

“She always has been,” Emmeline admitted. “I believe it is because I have some human blood in me, from far back. I cannot help it, though I wish I could—oh, more than anything!”

I was utterly discouraged. For a moment I’d thought that it would work. To have had that hope and then have it dashed . . .

“I have other possibilities,” my great-great-great-godmother said reassuringly. But I no longer had much confidence in her. I blinked back tears.

“Leander and I will keep working.” Emmeline patted my hand. “We just need a little time.” But I could tell from her expression that she knew we didn’t have much time. Manon was coming. We would have to face her whether we were ready or not.

Luna linked her arm in mine, and we all left the sitting room and trudged up a long staircase behind Emmeline. We separated from Symon and Leander at the top, and Emmeline took Luna and me into a room where an enormous copper tub awaited us. I glanced up to see what art graced this ceiling, and gasped. The painting depicted a girl sitting at a spinning wheel, her finger pierced by the spindle and a drop of scarlet blood caught in mid-fall.

“Is that Mama?” I whispered.

Emmeline looked up, and her face fell. “Oh, darling, I’m sorry!” she exclaimed. “I’d quite forgotten that was here. I just . . . well, I like to remember my favorite people and stories, and I . . . shall I move the bath? Or remove the painting?”

Luna stared at the ceiling. “Remove the painting?” she repeated. “Wouldn’t that be a lot of work?”

“It’s beautiful,” I said. “But she looks like Luna, not like me.” I had to turn my eyes away, for suddenly I missed Mama—and Papa too, and Castle Armelle—with an almost painful longing.

“She had your lovely hair when she was young,” Emmeline said, “but she had Luna’s smile, and Luna’s fearless spirit.”

“Our mother?” I said, disbelieving. I thought of Mama’s delicacy, her pale face, her fainting spells. Luna’s spirit?

“Ah, that was long, long ago,” Emmeline said. “Before her troubles began.”

The door to the room opened then, and—I don’t know how else to describe it—a jug full of steaming water came in. No one carried it; it seemed to float in midair all on its own. It emptied itself into the tub as Luna and I watched, openmouthed. Behind it came another jug, and another and another, and they poured themselves until the tub was full.

Emmeline laughed at our expressions. “It is much harder to produce the actual servants,” she said. “All I really need is the service, which I can create easily. So my servants do not truly exist, but their work gets done.”

In the warm bath, Sleep again threatened to overwhelm me, and I pinched the inside of my arm hard to rouse myself. The tub was big enough for us both, and Luna washed my hair and I scrubbed her short curls as Emmeline explained how she knew Prince Leander. Some of what she told us echoed what we’d learned from Mama and Papa, but some of it was new.

“We met at your mother’s christening,” she said. “But Manon believed he was hers.”

I remembered Mama describing this. “She was in love with him.”

“Desperately,” Emmeline said. “She loved him, and she wanted to be his forever.”

“But she’s horrible!” Luna said. “Of course he could never love her.”

“Manon is younger than I, you know,” Emmeline pointed out. “She was not so horrible then. In fact, she was quite beautiful—though it was a beauty with a dangerous edge. She and Leander had known each other for quite a while. They had spent some time together, and she had convinced herself that her feelings for him were returned. But then he saw me, and I saw him. . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“And then?” Luna prompted.

“Manon could not contain her fury. I believe she went a little mad. She pronounced her curse on your mother, and I modified it, to the best of my ability. And then we fled, Leander and I.

“He took me away, and we spent some time on a lovely tropical isle before Manon discovered us. She imprisoned him and kept him captive for years.”

I thought of the story Symon had told about the lutin trapped in a cave. So it was true, and it had been my uncle! How would such a fate change a man? I wondered. To be alone so long, to lose one’s family . . .

Emmeline went on. “I looked everywhere, followed every hint or rumor I heard. Then when I came to him at last, I could not set him free—I did not have the power. But I learned that I could turn him into a lutin and give him the power to free himself.

“Finally we found this little sandbar in the sea. It has been our hiding place. I made it as much like that other isle as I could—the plants, the birds, the warmth. Ah, but I loved it there!”