She might stay away till tomorrow, I thought. I had no reason to think this, but the idea stuck in my head. And I wished to see the south side of the mansion. For several days, I had dived less than normal. Because I had rested, I had energy to spare.
I walked to the terrace and searched for a way around the house. I could see snow blown by the wind, drifting on the lake’s surface. Frozen. I might be able to walk on it. But the distance between the terrace and the lake seemed too long, given that the surface was solid. As I looked down, I noticed that knobs of ice had appeared on the outside walls of the mansion. Snow had stuck to droppings from the birds and frozen. Perhaps these could serve as handholds. I extended my hand to some and touched them. Several fell off right away, but others stayed even when I pressed down hard.
I began to climb down the wall using the knobs as handholds and footholds. Several times I lost my balance, but I didn’t fall. When I reached the lake’s surface, the ice held fast. It had solidified quickly. I walked around the mansion to the south side, and then I used the knobs again to shimmy up the wall.
The south terrace was larger than mine, but the hall inside the doorless doorway was smaller. In that hall I saw a stairway leading up and another leading down. I headed up.
I found a large room. It too had a stove with a bird sculpture on top, its wings enfolding it. But I saw only one stove, and it was two heads taller than me. The long-necked bird on the stove rested its head at the center of the stove’s top. Its eyes were closed. Seeing this, I felt relief. A few embers glowed in the stove; because of them, the room still felt warm. The embers slightly lit the room as well.
Carpets had been spread here and there, and thick cloths hung on the wall. The cloths seemed to have designs on them. I had never touched floors or walls covered in textiles. Even when the smooth floors of this mansion grew cold, I liked them. I had assumed from her name that Stonebird herself liked stone. I had never walked with soft carpet beneath my feet.
Several tables stood at the center of the room, like islands in a lake. One table held grasses and dried insects, stone jars, and a mortar and pestle. One type of grass stank. I knew it must be medicine. I also saw items I did not recognize: stacks of square boxes covered in leather. I did not know then what books were, and besides, I could not read. Another small table held figurines of stone set in lines. That table had two chairs with it. I pictured how my father and older brother had spent evenings facing each other, moving pebbles around. I thought that Stonebird’s figurines must be a game. Who was her opponent? I looked about. For the first time, I realized that someone else besides Stonebird and me might dwell in the house. Still, I didn’t sense another presence.
Another table held nothing. The chair there was covered with so many animal furs that my body would have sunk right into them. A soft blanket covered a bed several times the size of mine.
Having circled the room once, I came back in front of the stove. A final table held a tapestry frame. Inside the wooden frame stretched a cloth, and next to the chair sat boxes with thread in them. Was Stonebird embroidering something? My eyes had grown used to the dark, but I still could not make out the detailed stitching. I sat in the chair and brought my face close. At that moment, an ember in the stove shifted, and a tongue of flame the size of my palm floated into the air. My heart pounded. Amazingly, I didn’t scream. The flame floated right to the tapestry frame. Thinking that it might burn the embroidered cloth, I panicked, but the flame merely floated beside the tapestry and illuminated it.
On the tapestry, I saw many people embroidered in such detail that they looked almost alive. They seemed to be of high status, wearing lavish clothes. They looked like rich people I had seen in the markets. The ladies sparkled with jewels. A man wearing a crown and red cape sat in a shining, gold chair at the center. He must be the king, I thought. In front of the king, a young man with silver hair knelt on one knee with his head bowed. Flames flickered in lamps mounted on the walls, and the windows to the left and right of the king showed a black sky. Nighttime.
Excitement filled me. Everything here seemed rare, beautiful, and new. It felt mysterious and strange, and in my ignorance I could barely comprehend it. I saw quite suddenly that the world held fascinating things. I needed to see more of them. That was my one thought.
At the same time, I began to worry about what would happen if I found the pearl. Until now, I had been content to dive in the lake, eating until I was full and staying alive. I had not, until this moment, thought of my future. Suddenly, a wish for freedom took root in my heart.
Chapter Eight
“The Moon Is on the Left”
PART TWO
When I returned to Stonebird’s hall and looked outside, the blizzard had worsened.
I descended the lower stairwell. The flame from the tapestry frame moved ahead of me, like a faithful pet.
At the bottom of the steps that led down from the hall, I saw a corridor with three doors on each side. The thick wooden doors had large locks. Iron bars covered small windows in the doors. A dungeon! I stopped. The flame moved on down the corridor, but I stood stock still, my breathing heavy. I sensed a presence.
Someone lived here. Drawing a deep breath, I stepped forward.
The windows were high on the doors. I stood on my tiptoes, pressed against one door, and peered inside. The flame floated above the window for me.
The first cell on each side of the hallway was empty, but the middle cell on the right was occupied. The person lay sleeping under a blanket in a bed pushed against the wall. I saw a child-like, thin body with white hair. I couldn’t see the person’s face, which was toward the wall. The cell had a small stove. It must have been lit, because the cell was dimly visible. As I expected, the stove had a sculpture of a bird. From where I stood, I couldn’t see if its eyes were open or closed.
“Who are you?” I found my voice. “Why are you kept here?”
The voice that answered me came from somewhere else.
“Who’s there?” It came from the next cell.
As I turned, the flame moved to float above the small window in the next door. I pressed myself to it and looked inside.
A woman sat on a bed with her head tilted, as though listening carefully. As I peered in, her golden hair moved as she raised her face. Her pale features looked worn, but her voice had traces of youth in it.
“Tell me, who’s there?” She faced the door. The light was dim, but she should have seen me. Yet her eyes looked slightly to the side.
“You’re not Stonebird, are you?” She stood slowly. “I heard no footsteps. Are you barefoot? Ah, you must be the child who’s diving in the lake these days.”
She held both hands before her and walked to the door.
“Is Stonebird away? That’s odd. Oh, it’s New Year’s Eve! Stonebird always goes off on New Year’s Eve.”
She felt for the door with her hands, then gripped the bars of the window and faced me through them. Her hands were white, nearly transparent; she must have been shut in there away from the sun for a long time. But her fingernails were black like mine. I was curious about this, but I was more concerned with other things.
“Your eyes—can you not see?” I asked.
She nodded in answer. “If I could see, I would still be diving, like you. I grew unable to dive, which is why I am locked in here.”
I could not speak. I had thought I was the only person who could find Stonebird’s pearl. She had said so when she talked to me—or at least I thought she had. Now I felt betrayed.
“There were several people before and after me, as well. All of them died,” the woman continued. “Another failed diver is in the cell next to me. Stonebird takes that prisoner upstairs sometimes. She seems attached to him somehow.”
She meant the prisoner with white hair. I nodded to show I understood, and then remembered that the woman couldn’t see me. I spoke: “I saw someone sleeping on a bed.”
I shivered. “Is this where I will end up, too?”
My voice caught. Was this my future?
She sensed my apprehension.
“What are you doing hanging about like this? While Stonebird’s gone, you should run! If it’s December 31, the lake will be frozen. Just like land.”
I began to flee before she could finish. She was right. I should have escaped long before this!
“Stop!”
I heard another voice. I’m amazed I heard it. It was low, but it reached my ears. It was the voice of the man on the bed.
“The lake never freezes all the way across!” he warned. “At some point, you’ll drop into the water. No matter how used to diving you are, it won’t help you now. With no Stonebird to pull you out, you will drown!”
I didn’t know which of them to believe.
“Why are you stopping her? Dying would be better than this!” The woman gripped the iron bars and began to laugh. Her voice ricocheted from the ceiling and walls of the dungeon.
Appalled, I stood in the passageway.
“It would be better for you to die!” she went on. “Better than living here, like me. For years! I can’t tell you how tired I am!” She stopped laughing and began to cry.
“Go back,” the man directed me. “But at some point, escape.”
He was telling me to run away, just not right now. I nodded and prepared to go.
“You know something!” The woman accused the man. “It’s been ages since I’ve heard your voice. No matter how often I call out to you, you never answer! What is your relationship to Stonebird? Why does she take you upstairs sometimes? Is she toying with you? Why does she call you Prince? The way she treats you—it’s odd.
“And what does she plan for that pearl? Where does she go on New Year’s Eve? You know! I’m certain you know! Tell me! Talk! Since you keep ignoring me, I might as well be alone down here!”
The woman both cried and shouted now. She raged at her neighbor in this dungeon, a man who would not speak with her. She must already have resigned herself to the fact that she would never leave.
“Go! Quickly!” Despite the woman’s outburst, the man’s voice was clear.
I raced up the steps. The floating flame, which had helped me in the dungeon, went on ahead as if its errand were done.
Then I heard a voice on the terrace. “I wish she’d pipe down.”
Stonebird was back. She must have heard the woman’s voice from outside. I would run right into her! I hurried in the direction the light had gone.
“Quiet!” I heard Stonebird yell. Then, “Come, my dear. It’s ready at last. I want to show you.” She sounded sickly sweet now. She had not come back alone. Her voice came from behind me, but she didn’t descend to the dungeon.
I followed the flame to escape the voice. The flame returned to its place in the upstairs stove, in the carpeted room. I didn’t realize it, but the eyes of the bird carved into that stove were open. I went to the stove, as if pulled by the light. The stove was so large that even while standing, I could hide behind it. But just when I thought I was safe, the flames expanded.
How foolish I had been! But there was no time to think of that. I dodged the flames, plastering myself to the soot-blackened wall near the stove.
“Mother, put out the fire, will you? I’m hot.”
I heard a young man’s voice. Someone who called Stonebird “Mother.” She has a son?
At the man’s words, the fire in the stove shrank as if doused by water. Then, a small flame jumped out again. The flame floated in the air as before.
Stonebird sat at the tapestry frame, and her son stood beside her. The flame from the stove now illuminated the two of them. Their hair was the same color: silver, but glinting gold.
“Look here, do you see? It’s finished at last. I have only to add the pearl.”
“This spell has taken forever, Mother,” Stonebird’s son said, lit by the floating flame.
I had never seen a man so handsome. He looked pure, innocent—the kind of person anyone would love.
“This spell had to be cast with one pass of the needle, then another, and another,” Stonebird explained to him. “It took time, but there was no other way.”
“You’re amazing, Mother.” Stonebird’s son was buttering her up now.
“The prince in the coronation scene is you,” Stonebird told him. Her hand caressed his cheek.
She had embroidered a king’s coronation. And in the scene, the man being crowned was on bended knee—and he resembled Stonebird’s son. It was, in fact, his very self.
“I’m sick of living in this form,” her son whined.
I didn’t know what he meant as he seemed a beautiful, well-proportioned man.
“You must wait,” Stonebird said. “It won’t do for this plan to fail. The spell calls for the real prince of the land to disappear, and then reappear at the coronation when he is twenty years old. The one who will appear is, of course, not him, but you. For this, I have cast the spell for twenty years. Nothing I could do would alter time itself.” She seemed to regret this.
“It’s been twenty years,” he said. “Finally. What’s the prince up to these days?”
“He’s no use to me anymore, so I’ve locked him up downstairs. Sometimes I have him play chess with me, but he’s barely more than a shadow now.”
“You’re good at chess, aren’t you, Mother?”
“Not bad,” she agreed. “He’s a fine strategist, though.” She shook her head in wonder.
“Well, you raised him, right?” the son said.
“So I did. That must be why!” she answered. The two of them laughed.
“The day I add the moon to the tapestry will be the day of the coronation,” Stonebird said seriously. “That day, you will become king.”
“Have you found it yet?” the son asked. “Do you think it’s really out in the lake?”
“I know it’s there. In my grandmother’s generation, the royal family fled the war-torn capital and sought refuge in this mansion. They hoped my grandmother’s magic would save them, but their enemies caught up to them and sank their boat. The pearl belonged to the queen who died in that boat. It holds heartache. That’s precisely why I involved it in this spell. I have found the other jewels. Surely, it won’t be long until I have the pearl.
“We’re searching the east side now. That’s the only part left. This child I have will surely find it. She’s Polonia, you know.”
“You’ve said that before, Mother,” the son complained.
They were talking of me. And of how the pearl would complete the tapestry as the moon. By adding the moon, Stonebird would finish her spell. A coronation would take place. And her son would become king. I failed to understand one detail: what did Polonia mean?
“When we find the moon, I will place it on the left.”
“The moon on the left of the throne—the magic moon. Its light will make me visible,” Stonebird’s son said. “No more melting into darkness.”
“That’s right, and thanks to the moon you really will return to life. You will be crowned king of the country that killed you. You’ll take revenge for every bit of your suffering, Son! I know you will.
“Now then, I’d better take you back,” said Stonebird. “How I love New Year’s Eve! The magic protecting the castle weakens, and I can see you!”
Stonebird embraced her son.
Killed? Return to life? Melt into darkness? I grew confused all over again.
“Do I have to go back?” the son sighed.
“Forgive me. I know it’s unpleasant under that unbefitting gravestone, with all the ghosts about. Wait a bit more. When you’re king, all will be as you wish. You can fill this land with hatred and fighting, just as you like!”
Stonebird said he dwelled with ghosts. Was he a spirit of the dead? He looked normal.
“You’re right, Mother. I can’t wait!” The son’s voice sounded supremely satisfied. Flattened against the wall behind the stove, I felt myself shiver.
The floating flame returned to the stove. St
onebird’s footsteps grew faint. She had taken her son away.
I trembled now. If I found the pearl, horrid things would happen! The world would fill with hate. I knew nothing of war, but I feared people dying. My father, despite being a grave minder—or perhaps because of it—had found death frightening. He had clung to life so fiercely that he sold his children rather than face death. I had seen his fear, so I too feared death. And now I knew that hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people could die. How could I let myself be part of that?
Should I just not find the pearl? I wondered. If I failed to find it, Stonebird would buy a new child and have her search in my place. I knew now that it didn’t matter who searched the lake. I had felt important and believed Stonebird when she said, “You’re the one.” I had tried to be useful to her because of that, even though she had bought me. I had been so wrong. Many others had dived—there was nothing special about me. And in the end, I would be shut up in the dungeon. I would be jailed there, crying and wailing like the woman I’d met. I didn’t want that. I wanted to escape. But I didn’t know how.
Before me, the embers glowed brightly. I recalled how earlier, I had worried that the floating flame would singe the tapestry. If I stirred the embers, the flames would grow. I could burn the tapestry. What would happen if I did? Stonebird’s spell would surely change somehow. I would no longer have to dive for the pearl.
There. I would do it. The whole room would burn. They would never know I was responsible. I would take care that the flames didn’t spread downstairs.
I crept from behind the stove. I got ready to spread the fire.
“Aha!”
Someone seized my collar. Stonebird. She hadn’t taken her son back after all.
“Hiding from me, were you?” She held me in the air with one hand and peered at my face. Then she laughed as though it were funny. Her eyes darted to the ash near the stove. I followed her gaze. My footprints showed clearly in the ash. And the eyes of the stone bird were open.
Temple Alley Summer Page 10
