Clara turned in the direction of the voice and came face-to-face with a man in his early twenties, a long rat-like nose dominating a pointed face with small, dark eyes.
“No. No, thank you.” She smiled politely and tried to turn away, but the young man grabbed her arm.
His hands were long and unwashed, with pointed nails that had dirt beneath them. Clara shuddered and tried to yank her arm from his grip, but he was unnaturally strong.
“No. You’re coming with us. You’re just the type of girls the boss likes.”
One rat-like man grabbed Clara as the other wrapped his arms around Marie, and the two girls were dragged away from the dancers and beautiful lights to a dark corner of the club.
Sitting on a throne was the vilest man Clara had ever seen. His nose was long and crooked, and she swore whiskers were sprouting from it. Like the men who’d taken her, he had a pointed face and small, beady eyes. His mouth was full of jagged yellow teeth. Looking down, Clara noticed he had a protruding, rounded belly, and small, spindly legs sticking out from underneath, dangling from the edge of the throne. On his head was a tarnished, dirty crown, sitting askew between tufts of matted hair.
“Let go of me this instant,” Clara demanded. The man holding Clara threw her to the floor in front of the throne.
The one with the crown leaned forward, his misshapen nose pressed against hers, his rank breath hot on her face.
“Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing?” he said with a grin that sent a chill down her spine.
“What I am is none of your business.” Clara struggled to her feet. “I demand you let my friend and me go.”
“And why would I do that when you’ll make the perfect queen for me?”
He reached out with a furry hand and grabbed Clara’s arm, pulling her body flush against his. Clara retched, bile rising in her throat. As he inclined his head toward hers, she closed her eyes…
“Unhand her this instant,” said a commanding voice.
Clara opened her eyes and looked up to see who’d come to her rescue. Her gaze fell on an impossibly handsome man. He was tall, with blue eyes like ocean water, and dark hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. He was dressed like a prince, in a military-style red suit, a blue sash trimmed in gold draped across his chest.
In one perfect leap, he jumped over the surrounding men so he was standing right beside Clara. He pried the rat-like man’s hand off Clara’s wrist, and then pushed him backward.
“Guards,” he called. “Over here. This man and his gang are trying to assault this lady and her friend.”
A number of bouncers, all dressed in the same red jackets as the one at the door, rushed forward. They took one look at the man on the floor and dived into action.
“Thank you, sir,” said a bouncer. “This is the notorious drug dealer, the Mouse King, and his crew. They’ve been causing trouble in clubs all over the country. We’ll see he’s sent straight to the gaoler.”
The bouncers grabbed hold of the Mouse King and his crew and dragged them away as the princely man knelt and offered Clara his hand, gently helping her to her feet.
“Thank you.” Clara straightened her dress.
“It’s my pleasure, Miss…?”
“Clara. My name is Clara. And yours is?”
“I’m Hans,” he said with a bow. “Might I perhaps buy you a drink?”
“Thank you. That would be very kind.”
Hans led Clara over to the bar. She looked around for Marie and saw her friend was being taken care of by one of the bouncers. Certain Marie would be okay without her for a few minutes, Clara turned her full attention to Hans.
Under the light, he was even more beautiful than she’d first thought. His skin was fair and flawless, with a strong jaw and distinct eyebrows. But it was his smile—which he flashed to her as he handed over a shimmering pink drink in an elegant crystal glass—that had her mesmerized.
“What’s this?” Clara asked, smelling the drink, which gave off a strong aroma of roses and sugar.
“It’s a Christmas special. A cocktail made from Turkish delight.”
Clara smiled. “How wonderful. I just love Turkish delight.”
She took a sip and found it to be just as delicious as the sweets she so loved. Unable to help herself, she gulped the rest down greedily, and as the last drop passed her lips, Clara’s vision went black…
♛
When Clara opened her eyes, she was in a bed that wasn’t her own. The mattress was as soft as a cloud, and looking around, she saw the bed had four posters, with a light blue, silken canopy hanging from them.
She sat up, afraid that she wasn’t in her own home, but also intrigued by her surroundings. They seemed oddly familiar to her.
In an instant, Hans was at her side.
“Clara, please, I can explain.” He gently gripped her shoulders and pushed her back against the pillow, and then pulled up an oak seat beside her. “I have a confession to make,” he said somberly. “I should have told you last night, but… I am a prince, and this is my palace. I brought you here because I need your help.”
Clara stared at him, wide-eyed. “I’m sorry, you said you’re a prince? And you need my help?”
“Yes. Many years ago, I was cursed by an evil sorcerer, who confined me to the palace. I am trapped here every night apart from the solstice, because there is magic on Midwinter’s Eve more powerful than even his. Each year on the solstice, I am able to leave my prison in search of a maiden with a heart pure and true, one who has the power to free me from this curse.”
Clara blinked. Was this some sort of joke? It sounded like a story from a fairy tale. This guy had to be insane.
She threw back the silken blue covers and jumped out of bed, thankful to find she was still fully clothed.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you the truth from the start, but, well, it sounds so absurd…”
“That’s because it is absurd. You’re crazy. Get away from me.”
Clara ran toward the door, but before she made it out into the hallway Hans stalled her with a gentle touch on her arm.
“Please, I can prove to you that I’m telling the truth if you’ll just come with me.”
He gazed into her eyes, the blue of them like a summer’s sky, and as Clara stared back, she felt her fear melt away. The story sounded deranged, and yet Hans had spoken so earnestly. What if he was telling the truth and he was trapped here?
He’d saved her from the Mouse King, and he was a perfect gentleman. Princely even. What would the harm be in hearing him out and seeing this proof? If he was lying, she could still find a way to escape.
As if in a dream-like trance, Clara returned to the bedroom and settled on the foot of the bed.
Hans took her hands and clasped them in his. “Thank you for returning.”
“Show me the proof.”
Hans rose to his feet and took Clara’s hand. He helped her off the bed and then led her into the hallway. Arm in arm, they walked through the vast expanse of the palace, passing libraries and lavish bedrooms. Rooms filled with suits of armor, and others containing hundreds of finely-dressed porcelain dolls. They walked down a grand staircase and passed a huge ballroom until, at last, they reached the palace entrance’s double doors.
Hans opened them swiftly, and a chill swept over them as they stepped out into a landscape of white. Leading away from the palace into the distance was a flagstone pathway that had been cleared of all snow, but around them were shimmering mounds of snow covering the lawns and dusting the fir trees dotted around the area.
Together, Clara and Hans walked down the cleared path until they reached a wrought-iron fence with a curving gate in the middle.
Hans pushed open the gate and led Clara out, but after only a few more steps, they met an invisible wall, as though they’d walked into a pane of glass.
“Oh,” Clara said, coming to a halt and bracing her hands in front of her. She could feel the glass. It reached up above her head and down into
the ground. As she looked up into the sky, she thought she could see a faint glimmer of glass above them and surrounding them, and it was then that Clara realized the truth. They were trapped in a glass bubble, like a giant snow globe.
Clara pressed her hand against the invisible barrier, then sucked in a breath. “You’re telling the truth.”
Hans held her gaze. “Sadly, I am. I am trapped here unless someone can break the spell.”
“And where is here?” The enchanted world she’d found herself in seemed familiar to Clara. She felt like she’d seen the palace before, had dreamed of dancing in its ballroom.
Hans smiled slightly. “Why, the Land of the Dolls, of course.”
The palace doors sprang open at his words, and rows upon rows of dolls, human-sized and alive, waltzed down the pathway toward them.
As the gathering drew closer, Clara was surprised to see the dolls were the ones she’d owned as a child, their cheeks still rosy and their eyes still sparkling.
One of her old favorites, Masha, reached out and grabbed Clara’s hand, twirling her around in a dance. She and Hans were passed from one waltzing doll to the next until they’d returned to the palace doors.
Breathless and giddy, Clara looked at Hans and studied him closely. His square jaw, dark hair, and blue eyes were all familiar to her, and piecing it together with his claim he was a prince in the Land of the Dolls, Clara suddenly realized the truth.
She gasped. “You’re him, aren’t you? The Nutcracker Prince?”
Hans bowed to her. “That I am. And when Christmas Eve comes, I will once again turn into a wooden toy. I have but a few days each year to try to break the wizard’s enchantment.”
Hans led Clara back inside the palace, to a large sitting room heated by an open fire.
“And that’s why you need me?” Clara asked, trying to piece everything together.
“Yes. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you the truth at Sugar Plums, but part of the spell means I can’t speak the truth until you’re in this realm, and the only way to get you here was for you to drink something from the Land of the Dolls.”
“The Turkish delight cocktail you gave me?”
“It’s a famous drink here, made by the Sugar Plum Fairies themselves.”
Clara’s eyes widened, and she leaned forward on her seat. “They’re real too?”
“Indeed. As are many others you probably know from the old Christmastime stories. They’re all my subjects, cursed and trapped here too.”
“And the Mouse King and his crew weren’t just some random thugs, were they?”
“No. They were sent by the evil sorcerer to try to prevent us from meeting.”
Clara shook her head. “This is too much. I need some time to absorb all this.”
Hans stood from his chair and bowed. “Of course. I’ll send for some refreshments and give you some space to think.”
He left the room swiftly, and a moment later, a silver food trolley wheeled itself into the room, coming to a halt beside Clara’s seat. On the trolley was a steaming mug of hot chocolate and a plate of butter cookies. Clara took one, dipped it in the hot chocolate to soften it a little, and then bit into the sweet goodness.
As she chewed the cookie, Clara thought about everything she’d been told. Another realm—the Land of the Dolls from her favorite Christmas story, no less—a prince under a curse, and Sugar Plum Fairies and the Mouse King being real. It all sounded ridiculous, and yet she was there, wasn’t she? She’d seen the food trolley move by itself and had felt the glass wall just beyond the palace gates. And the palace itself. There was no way it wasn’t real. It was too grand and magnificent to be make-believe. Even the most elaborate movie sets couldn’t match the magic of the palace.
So that must have meant Hans was telling the truth. And if he was, he and the subjects of the Land of the Dolls were prisoners here, and only she could save them. But how?
Clara tried to recall all the fairy stories she’d read as a child. Whenever a curse had been placed upon someone, true love’s kiss most often broke the enchantment. Did that mean to break the spell and free Hans and the people of the Land of the Dolls, she had to kiss him?
But no, that wouldn’t be enough, would it? She’d have to love him first, and how could that be if they only had a few days until Christmas Eve?
More confused than ever, Clara ventured out of the sitting room, hoping to find Hans or perhaps one of the other castle residents to explain to her what role she had to play in breaking the curse.
As Clara wandered down the hallway, she passed open door after open door, and unable to resist, she couldn’t help but stare at the rooms inside.
The first room had a white sandy beach spreading out into the distance, and just as the sand met the horizon, she could make out a crystal blue lake, with—no, she couldn’t believe her eyes—giant swans almost as big as horses gliding on the water. Clara giggled, tempted to see if she could reach one of the swans. They reminded her of a story she’d read as a child, where the magnificent creatures carried humans on their backs. She wondered if all stories had a grain of truth in them, based on magical realms only a few knew about. It was something she’d have to ask Hans later.
The second room was almost as wondrous as the first. The doorway opened up into a fragrant-smelling pine forest, the floor and trees lightly dusted with snow, and scampering around the forest were flower-like people of many colors: red, blue, pink, purple, orange, yellow. The flower people chased each other and squealed with delight, throwing snow and laughing when a ball hit one of their companions. Clara was tempted to join them, but her curiosity about what was in the next room was too strong, and so she continued on.
After that, she came across the dolls that had danced outside to meet her and Hans, all sitting around a table, with a fine porcelain tea set laid out in front of them. As she peered inside the room, Masha caught her gaze.
“Clara, won’t you join us?” she called.
“Oh, thank you, but I can’t stay. I’m looking for Hans.”
“He’s just down the hall, in the animal garden.”
“Thank you.” Clara curtsied as best she could and hurried on her way until she reached the only doors that she’d come across that had been closed. They were made of heavy gold and embossed with pictures of different animals: lions, elephants, and giraffes. Assuming this must be where Hans was, Clara pushed open the doors and entered.
“Oh my goodness!” Her hands flew to her mouth as she stepped from the marble-floored hallway and into a lush green jungle.
She cautiously walked farther through the trees, and as she stepped over a tangle of roots, something brushed her leg. Clara squealed and looked down as a massive peacock emerged from the undergrowth. Even with its feathers down, it was almost as tall as her waist, and then when it unfurled its tail, the feathers reached up past her head. But it wasn’t just the size of the peacock that was amazing. It was brightly-colored, like males of the species were, but gleaming from the tail were emeralds, sapphires, and rubies.
Hans stepped out from behind the peacock and smiled. “Hello, Clara. I see you’ve found my animal garden.”
Clara looked around herself in awe, her eyes as big as saucers. The peacock was still strutting about, and overhead flew shimmering gold and silver parrots. “It’s magnificent, like a book I read once—only bigger, brighter and better than the story described.”
“Come. Let me show you something.” Hans took her hand and led Clara deeper into the jungle, past more strange and exotic animals.
Beside a river lazed a crocodile, its scales shimmering in the sunlight. Beyond that, they encountered a troop of lemurs, only instead of their fur being shades of white, black, and brown, they were vividly colored in shades of pink and purple.
Finally, they drew to a halt in a clearing, and Hans whistled on his fingers. A moment later, the ground beneath their feet started to shake, and then into the clearing walked a gigantic elephant. Upon its back was a silken carriage.
“Would you like to come for a ride with me?” Hans asked as the elephant stopped in front of them, and Clara noticed a rope ladder hung from the carriage all the way down to the elephant’s feet.
“Oh, could I?” This was like a surreal dream, where things Clara had once imagined as a child had come to life.
“Why, of course. Follow me.” Hans took her hand and helped her climb the ladder until she was comfortably nestled between pillows in the carriage. He then sat down beside her, whistled again, and the elephant started walking away slowly.
The rhythm of the elephant’s steps was gentle, so Clara and Hans weren’t jostled about too much. From high up on its back, they could see into the canopy of jungle trees, where silver and gold parrots perched.
The elephant walked back through the jungle the way they’d come, passing the lemurs and the crocodile, until they came to the golden doorway that led back into the hall.
Hans whistled, and the elephant stopped its journey. He climbed back down the ladder, and then helped Clara to the floor. As a reward for its service, Hans plucked a banana from a tree and handed it to the elephant. The creature received the banana with its trunk and shoved the fruit into its mouth whole, with the skin still attached. The elephant trumpeted happily before disappearing into the trees.
Clara and Hans stepped back into the hallway together, and he turned to lock the golden doors that led to his animal garden.
“What happens to the animals on Christmas Eve if the spell isn’t broken?” Clara asked as Hans offered her his arm and they walked back to the sitting room.
Hans bowed his head, sadness overcoming his features. “They all turn into toys, I’m afraid.”
Clara bowed her head too as tears filled her eyes. “I wish I could help you all, but I’m not sure I know how to. Curses like this are usually only broken with true love’s kiss, and we—”
“We’ve only just met,” Hans finished for her. “Expecting us to fall in love in a matter of days is ridiculous. But I don’t think that’s what’s needed. The wizard who cast the spell said all I needed was a maiden with a heart pure and true.”
Magic at Midnight Page 36
