The Autumn Castle (65 page)

Pace, pace.

Her bag was already packed in the event that they agreed. Just a few souvenirs of Ewigkreis. A miniature of herself and Eisengrimm,
two dresses she couldn’t bear to leave behind, a carved puppet she had loved as a child. Apart from that, she was ready to
go, ready to start a new life in the Real World as Jude’s wife. Christine and Jude were waiting on the other side of the passage
for the verdict. Christine by now had organized money and a place for them to live in New York. New York! It sounded like
the most heavenly place in the universe. But if her plans fell through, if the village had voted against her choice of replacement
. . .
Just keep pacing. Eisengrimm will be here soon.

Right on cue, the door swung inward and Eisengrimm slunk in. As usual, his face didn’t give much away, but his shoulders were
slumped forward, a defeated gesture.

“Oh, no,” she said. “They said no, didn’t they?”

Eisengrimm shook his head. “Mayfridh, they said yes. Christine is well liked by all who have met her on her visits.”

“Yes? They said yes?” She felt her heart lift. “Then why do you look so . . . sad?”

He approached, leaned his head against her hip. “Because you’re leaving, dear girl. I’m sad because you’re leaving.”

Tears pricked her eyes. “Don’t, Eisengrimm. Don’t you make me cry.”

“Come, let’s walk down to the passage. Have you got everything you need?”

She lifted her bag off the bed and took a last look around her white chamber. “I think so, yes.”

He led her to the autumn forest in silence. Once they arrived at the passage, she felt a sudden nausea grip her. This would
be the last time she ever saw Eisengrimm. Even though Jude and her new life in the Real World waited on the other side, she
barely had the courage to take one step toward the passage.

“I’m glad that you have found happiness, Little May,” he said. His voice strained around the words “and I’m glad that Christine
will be our new queen.”

“You could have been king, you know. If you weren’t so reluctant.”

“A wolf king? Perhaps I could have ruled if I had a queen by my side. But not alone.”

Mayfridh laughed. “Well, if you weren’t a wolf I’m sure I could have married you,” she said lightly, “but we are what we are
and must act in faith with it.”

His head hung forward, and she knelt to embrace him.

“Good-bye, old friend,” she said.

“Good-bye, Little May.”

She glanced at the passage. “I want to go, but leaving you feels like—”

“Feels like losing a piece of my heart.” His voice cracked. Mayfridh was taken aback by the uncharacteristic display of emotion.

“Yes.”

“I won’t forget you,” Eisengrimm said, collecting himself.

“I’ll never forget you either. We won’t forget each other. The forgetfulness is Christine’s balm, not ours. Be as good to
her as you’ve been to me.”

“I will.”

She stood and deliberately turned away from him. “Good-bye,” she said softly. He didn’t say another word as she stepped through
into the Real World.

It was early evening in the Tiergarten. Christine’s face was pale and fearful in the dark. Jude smoked and paced. Mayfridh
stepped out and they both looked up.

“Well?” Christine asked.

“It’s been approved. They’re waiting for you.”

This news didn’t appear to bring Christine any relief, and Mayfridh gave her shoulder a squeeze. “You are sure you still want
this?”

“Of course.”

Jude stood uncomfortably nearby, not sure whether to embrace his old lover or his new lover.

“Then,” Mayfridh said, “I declare you queen.”

“Queen Starlight.” Christine laughed.

“Hold perfectly still while I transfer the royal magic to you.” Mayfridh enclosed Christine in a warm hug, felt her skinny
body tremble. The magic began to pass between them. In every second Mayfridh felt lighter, more carefree, the weight lifting
and lifting, the muscles around her heart loosening and her lungs filling to their full depth. Finally, the transfer completed,
she stood back.

And saw that Christine was beautiful.

Nothing about her face or hair had changed. She still had the same eyes, nose, cheeks. Something from within illuminated them,
made her seem intense and noble. Mayfridh glanced at Jude. He had noticed too. His bewildered eyes were fixed on Christine’s
face. Anxiety pulled in Mayfridh’s stomach: now she had relinquished her role as queen of the faeries to become an ordinary
human, would she lose as much beauty as Christine had just gained?

Mayfridh took her place at Jude’s side.

“It’s time to go,” she told Christine.

“Gladly,” Christine said with a wry smile. She turned to Jude. “I won’t remember you. Good-bye.” It was said kindly, with
relief rather than bitterness.

“Uh . . . good-bye,” he said.

“I’ll remember you, won’t I?” she said to Mayfridh.

“Yes. You’ll remember everything that happened in Ewigkreis, though some of it may not make sense once the Real World memories
are gone. But you won’t remember . . . the bad things about me. The things that happened here.”

“Good.” She glanced all around her. “Good.”

“Eisengrimm will take care of you,” Mayfridh said. “Now you must go. They’re waiting for you. They’ll want to perform the
coronation before the season turns.”

Christine’s hands trembled as she pushed her hair out of her eyes. “Okay, then.”

Mayfridh took her friend’s fingers in her own. “Long may you live, Queen Starlight.”

Christine squeezed back. “Yeah,” she said, turning away now, moving toward the passage. “Long may I live.”

Mayfridh glanced at Jude. Uncertainty all over his face. She took his hand in hers, realized she was clutching it too desperately.

Christine stepped through the passage and disappeared.

The coronation had been organized in less than a day. Newly minted Queen Starlight, Christine sat at the head of the table
in the Autumn Castle, a huge and noisy banquet whirling around her. Outside the great hall, a wicked wind stalked the castle
grounds, the forests, and the village. Huge fires in all the grates kept its cold fingers at bay. Eisengrimm sat close by,
keeping watch on her.

“How are you feeling, Christine?” he asked.

“You keep asking me that,” Christine laughed.

“You look pale.”

“I’m always pale.”

“You look frightened.”

She sighed. “I’m often frightened.”

“Don’t worry. At any time we could all wake up at the Winter Castle, and you’ll forget your fears. And you have me to guide
you through the duties and obligations.”

“I look forward to it.” She rubbed his ears and glanced around the hall. Many of the villagers had been invited, and a few
of them gazed at her fondly, raising their glasses and shouting blessings as she caught their eyes. Klarlied, the new royal
witch, gave her a warm smile from across the room. A comforting welcome. A new life of simple plea-sures and people, of learning
her magic with Klarlied and becoming a good ruler with Eisengrimm, of peaceful spaces and freedom from pain. Why the misgivings?

“Everyone feels a little anxious at the turn of the seasons,” Eisengrimm said, as though reading her mind.

She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I have no right to be melancholy. You’ve lost your love forever.”

“Perhaps that’s true. But perhaps it’s for the best. While she was here, I had no chance of ever recovering from that love.
Now she’s gone . . .”

“She won’t be there to fall in love with every morning. I understand.” Christine thought about Jude, and a big bubble of panic
rose up. To forget him forever? Awful, impossible. She’d made the wrong decision, she had to go back.

Deep breaths. Let him go. Let it all go.
He wasn’t the Jude she thought she knew, he was somebody else, somebody with lies in his heart and vanity on his brow.

A noisy commotion from near the door. A royal guard raced in, excitement and panic coloring his cheeks. “The last leaf, the
last leaf!” he cried. “There’s only one left.”

Voices, gasps, cheers all around her. Christine’s heart picked up its rhythm.

Eisengrimm leapt from his chair. “Queen Starlight? It’s customary for the queen to watch the last leaf fall. Would you like
me to accompany you?”

“I . . . yes. Yes, I don’t want to be alone.”

He led her along the corridor away from the banquet, and up the stairs to the white chamber. He pushed open the window with
his nose and stood, paws on the sill, overlooking the giant birch. Christine joined him, clutched her fingers around his foreleg.

“Gentle now,” he admonished with a smile in his voice. “I’m still recovering from an injury.”

She searched the tree with her eyes, found the last leaf. Slanted evening sunlight stained the branches, the wind howled.
The leaf hung as if by a thread. It reminded her of a loose tooth she’d had as a child. It had hung there day after day, spinning
under the impetus of her tongue or her curious fingers, but not coming free. Then her father, under pretense of inspecting
it, had suddenly and violently pulled it out. She had started to cry, but her father’s warm laughter at her startled expression
had made her laugh too. Before long they had been rolling on the sofa in fits of laughter as he clutched the tiny tooth and
she explored the smooth gap with her tongue.

With a rush of fear and longing, Christine realized what it meant to forget. Everything.

She moved closer to Eisengrimm, her arm curling around his ribs. “I wish you could hold me,” she whispered. “I’m so afraid.”

“The seasons
will
change, Christine. Nothing can stop them.”

A violent gust of wind tore up from the valley. The leaf spun, struggled, broke free.

And . . .

     at last . . .

          fell . . .

I
n days of old, there was a great and beautiful queen named Silverhand Starlight. One of her hands was made of silver, but
it moved as gracefully as any person’s real hand. Queen Starlight’s dearest companion and counselor was a wolf named Eisengrimm.
They spent all of their waking hours together, working by day on making her kingdom bountiful and happy, and spending their
evenings sharing memories and thoughts, until they were so close they were almost of one heart and one mind.

Some years after her rule began, the people of Queen Starlight’s realm began to ask if she would ever marry and give them
a king and an heir. Now, this troubled Queen Starlight greatly, as she had not yet met any man for whom she felt a great love.
Her dearest love and affection were reserved for Counselor Eisengrimm, but he was a wolf and a marriage between them was forbidden.

“If I could but marry you, Eisengrimm,” she said, “we could be good companions for each other. I trust your judgment and I
love you dearly.”

“Queen Starlight,” he said, “you know that there is a way you could marry me, but it’s dangerous and difficult and I advise
against it.”

Now, Eisengrimm hadn’t always been a wolf and Queen Starlight knew this. He was once a man, but had been put under an enchantment
by a sorceress named Zosia. The only way for him to be restored to his true form was for a true love to seek out Zosia and
demand to know his real name, which she had stolen from him. But Zosia lived many, many miles from Queen Starlight’s castle,
and was known to be an evil sorceress who stole souls and hoarded treasure.