by Cameron Jace
“Because that was what all your journey to me here was about,” Lady Shallot said. “The seven items in the sack. They belonged to the Lost Seven. They saved your lives, and now, according the rules of the universe, which you can never escape, you two are…”
She didn’t have to say it. Angel and I spelled it out in one breath. “Forever in debt to the Lost Seven.”
Chapter 37
The Queen’s Diary
Even though Angel and I felt betrayed, we had not worried about protecting the Lost Seven, as long as it meant Lady Shallot would weave a home for us. Still, we needed to know how we were going to protect them.
“I will send them, or their fathers and mothers, to your kingdom,” Lady Shallot explained. “But you will be asked not to interfere in their lives. Each of them is very special, and they should grow to find their own purpose.”
“Agreed,” I said and then pinched Angel to nod. He didn’t seem to want to do it, but he had to.
“At some point, I will contact you and will tell you what to do next,” she explained. “Even if they need to find their own purpose in life, they will need a few helps here and there.”
“I will do everything you will tell me,” I said. “We will need people in our kingdom anyways. I’ll take care of them and help them.”
“So our new home is a promised land,” Angel was thinking aloud. “All the misfits and those who are escaping evil will live in it.”
“Not evil,” Lady Shallot had to remind us. “Different point of views.”
I didn’t want to object and tell her that Night Von Sorrow didn’t seem to have a good side to him. He and the Sorrows were pure evil in my book. But then I remembered that the Piper, whose story started all of this, had been betrayed by the people in Hamelin. Day by day, I began to manifest the concept of ‘evil is a point of view’ and live by it.
“Let’s call it dangers then,” Angel said. “My point is that I thought our new home would be a safe place where we could escape those who were chasing us.”
“You see, Angel, there is almost no escape from what you two are running from.”
“Why?” Angel asked furiously.
“Because the one you are running from is your own blood.” Lady Shallot leaned forward, just enough not to cross the circle. It was as if she was trapped inside the Dream Temple. I wondered what would happen to her if she crossed it. “Your father will find you wherever you are.”
“What are you saying?” Angel tensed again, trembling actually. “I am not asking much. All I need with Carmilla is a shore.”
“The last thing you want is a shore,” Lady Shallot said, “because that’s where Night Von Sorrow,” she pointed at Angel, “and the witch,” she pointed at me, “await. The ocean is actually much safer, but you can’t live in it forever, so I will have to weave a world of your liking for you.”
“At least make it untraceable,” I offered.
“Although he will eventually find you, I will do that.”
“Thank you,” I bowed my head. “At least give us years to have our daughter and raise her.”
“Sixteen years,” she said. “That’s how long your daughter will need to gain her powers.”
I didn’t know that, and I didn’t argue. Sixteen years it was.
“I’ll weave mountains, forests, rivers, stars, and everything you need. It will be my gift to you for the courage and nobility you have shown by escaping all evil and crossing the oceans of the world,” she said. “Believe me, I admire you both, but the debt issue was a must. The universe,” she pointed at the sky beyond the ceiling, “demands such things. Balance.”
“The Kingdom of Sorrow,” Angel looked me in the eyes. I hadn’t seen him so happy for days, although he had forgotten how much the word ‘sorrow’ hurt me.
“Not ‘Sorrow’ Angel,” I said. “Let’s find another name.”
Why would anyone call their home Sorrow?
“It’s my family’s name, darling,” he said. “I can’t do anything about that. We will prove to the world that a name doesn’t make you evil.”
“The Kingdom of Sorrow it is,” Lady Shallot said. “Could you hand me a new ball of thread from the basket behind you?” She pointed at it, and Angel turned to pick up one. “No, not the black or white one. Pick up a red one.”
Angel picked up a red ball, but then dropped it immediately as some threads turned into thin snakes.
“Don’t worry, it happens,” she said. “Some threads are like apples, with worms in them. Those are the bad worlds. Go ahead and retry your luck.”
“I’d prefer if my Carmilla picks one,” he said, looking back at me. His eyes were saying that he felt doomed, coming from the Sorrows. I was a Karnstein, a descendant of the noblest Austrian families, the first vampire hunters in the world.
I was the one who picked the thread that weaved our kingdom. It took me seven tries, because each of the first six I found myself picking the color black.
Chapter 38
The Queen’s Diary
As we watched Lady Shallot work the thread, I had too many questions on my mind; questions I knew she wasn’t going to answer. I wanted to know who she really was, why she used the red thread and not the others, how it was possible to weave a world with threads, and if she had weaved the rest of the world as we knew it.
But I didn’t have the luxury to ask and risk angering her.
“Now is time for the little uncomfortable part,” Lady Shallot said. “Both of you, stretch out your hands.”
We did, almost hypnotically.
Lady Shallot used her needle to prick both our thumbs, drawing a little blood from each. She made our thumbs touch until our blood mixed, and put the drops of blood on her needle.
Before she could complete her process, Angel couldn’t help controlling his desire for my blood. His fangs drew out.
“Hold your darkness, young man,” Lady Shallot demanded. “Or it will forever be woven to your kingdom.”
Angel did, with moistened eyes. I patted him. I had never seen anyone feel so guilty about his own sins.
Lady Shallot used the bloodstained needle with the red ball of thread, and started sewing the Kingdom of Sorrow.
It took her another six days to do it.
As a side note, I can’t explain how time ran up there on top of the world. In my mind they were six days. I could have been deluded, but that was how it felt like.
Angel and I ate from the apples and drank the juice Lady Shallot offered us — she only drank and never ate.
We watched her each day, weave creatively and accurately, our new world. We watched her sew a black Forest, the swamps and rivers, the hills, and every curve in the land. Angel asked her to weave an imitation of the Schloss, a famous castle in his hometown Lohr, as an epitaph.
“I’m sorry I will not be able to weave that,” Lady Shallot said. “And don’t ask me why.”
“But it’s a lovely castle, I want to gift it to my wife,” he explained.
“Don’t worry,” Lady Shallot said. “The castle will be there, even though I won’t be weaving it. The Schloss is part of your existence, and it will follow you to your kingdom — and don’t ask me to explain.”
Six days later, we saw our completed kingdom in the mirror, which she called the Window to the World. We were staring at The Kingdom of Sorrow; sewn by the delicate threads of Lady Shallot, who didn’t only use the red thread, but added white and black at some point as well.
“I have to ask you about the colors you used to weave our kingdom,” Angel said. I could see it in his eyes. He was wondering why she chose the colors he was most famous for. We both had been fed up by the repetition of the three colors.
“It’s not like a red thread creates a red mountain in your kingdom or anything,” Lady Shallot said. “As you can see, you have green mountains, yellowish barren lands, blue skies, and so on,” Lady Shallot said. “But to answer your question, the universe demands balance — or the probability of insinuating it. W
hen I design a world, it has to have three colors. White is for all things good and pure,” she held the white ball of thread up, and I didn’t argue about the ‘evil is a point of view’ thing. I just let it pass. “Think of angels, snow, and a blank piece of paper that is ready to cherish a writer’s masterpiece and imagination. Basically think of a white swan for peace.”
“And black?” Angel asked eagerly.
“Black is darkness. We all know that. Don’t we?” Lady Shallot didn’t seem comfortable talking about it. “Think of a black swan.”
“And red?” I asked.
“Red, oh, red.” Lady Shallot held the red thread in her hand, and stared at it as if it were a baby. “Red is the color of the blood that runs in our veins. We’re all books of blood. If the books are sliced open, we’ll bleed our real identities. Think of a black swan clashing into a white swan, red is the blood that is spilled; it’s the things in between.”
“So?” Angel frowned, doing his best to control his fangs.
“It makes us choose to be black or white, although we’re never just one color. We’re a mixture of both,” Lady Shallot said. “Red is either your curse or your redemption. Did you know that angels are made from red threads, balanced with white wings and black hearts?” she said this and didn’t wait for an answer. She looked in our eyes, knowing we didn’t care about the angel’s story. We wanted to know what red was really for, so she said it. “When the ultimate battle between black and white ensues, red will have the final answer.”
Which left us even more puzzled.
But whatever Lady Shallot meant, we decided not to question her. Our new home in the mirror took our breath away.
We looked at the Kingdom of Sorrow in the mirror. It was big and beautiful, lit by a purple haze. It wasn’t a natural light, as she hadn’t sewn the light yet. The purple was only a substitute, so we could see the kingdom.
In addition, Lady Shallot made the golden apples dangling from the trees shimmer like candles to light the way. In the excluded areas, golden fireflies gathered and hung in the air, imitating the shape of lanterns, gold-lighting the kingdom.
“The golden apples are special,” Lady Shallot said. “They will only light the way for the good-hearted.”
I pressed on Angel’s hands tighter with a big, serene smile on my face. Some married men and women get a new house for their wedding. We, on the other hand, were gifted with a kingdom, one that Night Von Sorrow couldn’t reach.
“But where is our kingdom?” I wondered. “I can only see it in the mirror. How can I go there?”
“I would love to take you there,” she said, “but I can’t leave.”
Chapter 39
The Queen’s Diary
Lady Shallot told us about her curse. A weaver’s curse.
It turned out that all weavers were tied to their circle in front of the mirror for life. With all the power of weaving worlds, she wasn’t allowed to leave and explore the worlds herself. When Angel asked her why the higher Creators would do that to her, she answers in words I had already expected.
“The universe demands balance. A power like mine has to be balanced by my mobility.”
“And if you insisted to leave?” Angel said.
“Some of us die,” she said, “but what happened with me was different.”
“Can you please tell us?” I asked. “If you don’t mind.”
“I once saw a man I so much loved in the mirror of a world I created,” she said. “It’s ironic that I had created the man myself.”
“And then what happened?”
“I fell in love with him for so many years, and I couldn’t stay where I was. I decided I should go and meet him. It was a foolish move.”
“But you didn’t die,” I commented. “Apparently.”
“Again, it’s ironic that one of the Creators loved me too,” Lady Shallot blushed. “So he let me live somehow. I met this man I loved in his world and we had a child.”
“A child of a weaver?” Angel said.
“The only of its kind, my lovely daughter,” she said proudly. “Then the other Creators knew about me, and the one who loved me couldn’t protect me anymore.”
“But they still didn’t kill you,” I said.
“I paid my dues and they let me return to my seat in front of the mirror,” she said. “And what a price I paid.”
“Let me guess,” I said. “The universe demands balance, so they parted you from your daughter.”
“You will be a smart queen, Carmilla,” she told me. “Yes, and not just that. My daughter was not to know who I am. She wasn’t even allowed to realize the powers she had inherited from me.”
“She can weave worlds?”
“No, she can weave dreams,” Lady Shallot said.
“That sounds incredible.”
“She can spin dreams on a wheel. You give her a lock of your hair and she weaves a beautiful dream for you.”
“But who does she think her mother is?” I asked.
“I gave her to a family, the Rumpelsteins,” she said. “They take care of her. She thinks she is ordinary, but she isn’t.”
“Are they treating her well?”
“Very well. Her stepfather loves her,” she said. “However, he is confused as to why her hair grows so fast and so long.”
“Why does her hair grow fast?”
“Her hair is the substitute of straw. She is gifted with it so she can weave dreams with it.”
In this moment, a thought occurred to me. I felt in debt to Lady Shallot and wanted to offer my help. “Would you like to send her to the Kingdom of Sorrow as well?”
Lady Shallot’s face glowed. She hadn’t expected this. “Would you do that for me?”
“We would love to,” Angel said. “How old is she?”
“Fourteen,” Lady Shallot said. “But if I manage to send her to the Kingdom of Sorrow she will be still in her mother’s womb. She will be born again in your land.”
“Born again?” I said. “I don’t understand.”
“You see, my dear Carmilla, she isn’t a usual child. She gets resurrected when moved from one world to another. She never really dies, like her mother.”
“You mean all weavers are like that?”
She nodded. “My daughter’s name is Rapunzel. Take care of her. She is special.”
Angel and I didn’t mind. We understood that we weren’t only building a kingdom; we were going to have to take care of a lot of lost children who deserved a new life. Suddenly, our purpose to find a home had turned into building a new world where life could be better.
Chapter 40
The Queen’s Diary
Although she couldn’t move, Lady Shallot showed us a map with directions to get off the island. It began with a spell to help us descend the tower in a few minutes, not days. Then the map showed us to a certain shore on the small island. I hadn’t heard most of her last conversation, but she had told Angel all the details.
“What are we waiting for here, Angel?”
“You will see,” he said. “I don’t want to spoil it for you. I think it will be magical.”
I waited until the rock island began to shake all of a sudden. The ocean’s tides rose as if something awfully big was emerging from the abyss. I thought we were going to drown.
“What’s going on?” I said.
“Hang on. We should be all right.
The more the earth shook, the more I couldn’t keep my balance. A great tide swooped in on us and we both fell on the ground, Angel guarding me with arms and body. “Wait just a few breaths more.”
I did.
When the shaking stopped, Angel held my hand and we went to take a look at whatever had risen up from the abyss. That was when I understood what I was staring at, but I didn’t understand what it had to do with the Kingdom of Sorrow.
“Now I could call this miraculous,” Angel said, staring at the huge being in front of us.
“But what does it have to do with us?”
; “It’s our home, Carmilla. All we have to do is to get on it, and it will take us to a safe location where my father can’t find us for sixteen years.”
I didn’t yet understand. Because I was staring at a huge whale that had risen from beneath the surface of the ocean. On its back, a beautiful land with lush forests spread all over.
“To protect our kingdom, Lady Shallot had to make it an island, one that was placed on the back of a whale that will forever swim in the ocean,” Angel shouted through the noise the whale made as it surfaced. It sounded like a giant baby crying on its first day in the world. “The Kingdom of Sorrow is an island that resides on the back of a whale.”
“I can’t believe my eyes,” I said. “Is it really safe to live on its back?”
“Lady Shallot assured me it is. She also said the whale had a name.” Angel’s eyes glittered. “Moby Dick.”
“This is the whale who took Ahab’s leg,” I said.
“Doesn’t that make you safe already?” Angel argued. “The whale is on our side. It will help us evade our enemies as much as it can.”
We watched as the whale settled and calmed. All we had to do was to step on it. Step from one island to another. All we had to do was to tell it which place in the whole sea we think is safest, and then it would stay silent and mobile forever. I couldn’t believe we finally found our home. We had made it.
Once we had stepped onto our island, there was an old man waiting for us. He had long white hair and a cane with him. He looked serene and I almost loved him instantly. He said, “Welcome to the island that will change the course of history. Welcome to Sorrow.”
Chapter 41
The Queen’s Diary
The man wouldn’t tell us his name at first, but he knew more than we did. Angel wasn’t as skeptical of him. The man was just charming.
He showed us through one side of the vast kingdom and offered a few pieces of advice that I have no need to get into now. Then he proposed a marvelous location for the island to reside, somewhere close to the Missing Mile.
