“Oh, I think I know,” she says then; indeed, she does. She reaches to open the infamous box of remains that is concealed by the width of her skirts, and which she takes with her like a lady’s purse.
The lock clicks, and inside, on a bed of velvet, is a child’s toy. An old porcelain doll with matted well-loved hair, a tussled old wig, her stuffed fabric body dressed in bright peacock hand-sewn finery of an archaic jester. Her head is pale and appears to have a rosy-soft veneer even though he knows just underneath it is a hard shell of smooth porcelain, and her glass eyes are dark and huge and somewhat weird, surrounded by a real fringe of eyelashes and skillfully-made lids that open and close.
She has a tiny button nose and a rosebud mouth.
At the sight of her, the Duke’s chest—something deep inside there, a complex machinery—painfully constricts.
“Thank you,” he says, reaching for the doll.
He stands, holding Molly with one stiff hand against his own chest, while the Duchess of White exits the room, and then, he knows, forever leaves his castle.
She will not return. And who could blame her?
There is freedom, out there. But not for him.
The greatest living master of the arcane, the magus of the highest order, the man who can bring the dead to life, stands still, watching the sun set from the familiar hated-and-beloved window of his study.
Later yet, as the night sets in and the stars come out to fill heaven with firefly light, the Duke climbs the wind-funnel stairwell of the Mad Queens Tower and walks up on the roof. He leans between the tall, thick merlons, watching the well of sky overhead—it is almost a full dome, but not quite.
The doll is still clutched against his chest. And once again he believes he hears inside him the heavy tedious sound of ever-slowing clockwork.
He looks out, over into the blind darkness of distance, the unseen expanse that is the whole world—it is at his mercy, subject to his stewardship and ultimate responsibility. And yet, power is in his mind now, a vortex of death and life. He feels, without needing to see, the wind of the world on his face, the distant waters and the firmament held at bay, and imagines the sand road, below, occluded in darkness.
All of it, everything, is permeated with the life force. It is a world of crystalline nodes with infinite facets.
Rossian, the Duke of Violet stands perfectly still and opens his mind, and lets the life force that he now rules so well enter and course through him, no longer resisting its truth. It is infinitely easy then, how the Duke takes a step in his mind and flies, moving along the everlasting plateau of nodes, without ever leaving his castle.
The End
Author’s Note
I started writing this one in the mid-80s, when in college, and could neither properly finish nor set it aside. Over the years the ideas and characters and storyline haunted me, mutated and grew in complexity, and the compounding of meanings became more layered than an onion.
As with any obsession, you must first understand it before you can let go.
I think I finally can.
Vera Nazarian
Los Angeles, CA
February 21, 2008
Acknowledgements
My heart and my thanks to the many friends who helped me immensely with this work—Paul Barnett, Giles Bignold, Stella Bloom, David Bloom, Anne Bussell, Michael Ehart, Catherine Mintz, Anna Tambour, Brook West, Paul Witcover, and last but not least, the Spinners who were Jim Brunet, Megan Christopher, Steve Ford, Susan Franzblau, Gary Glass, Harry Ingham, Davy Krieger, and Jenn Reese.
About the Author
Vera Nazarian immigrated to the USA from the former USSR as a kid, sold her first story at the age of 17, and since then has published numerous works in anthologies and magazines, and has seen her fiction translated into eight languages.
She made her novelist debut with the critically acclaimed arabesque “collage” novel Dreams of the Compass Rose, followed by epic fantasy about a world without color, Lords of Rainbow. Her novella The Clock King and the Queen of the Hourglass from PS Publishing (UK) with an introduction by Charles de Lint made the Locus Recommended Reading List for 2005. Her debut short fiction collection Salt of the Air, with an introduction by Gene Wolfe, contains the 2007 Nebula Award-nominated “The Story of Love.” Recent work includes the 2008 Nebula Award-nominated, self-illustrated baroque fantasy novella The Duke in His Castle, and the humorous Jane Austen parody Mansfield Park And Mummies: Monster Mayhem, Matrimony, Ancient Curses, True Love, and Other Dire Delights.
Vera lives in Los Angeles, and uses her Armenian sense of humor and her Russian sense of suffering to bake conflicted pirozhki and make art.
In addition to being a writer and award-winning artist, she is also the publisher of Norilana Books.
Official website:
www.veranazarian.com
Table of Contents
PRAISE FOR… 2
Copyright Page 4
Other Books by Vera Nazarian 6
Dedication 7
Illustration: “The Duke” 8
I: Starting On A Lighter Note 10
II: Things Somewhat More Serious 24
III: Deepening 43
IV: A Dream of Falling 57
V: Following A Nondescript Sunrise 64
VI: Sacrifice 79
VII: Parting Gift 84
Author’s Note 88
Acknowledgements 89
About the Author 90
The Duke In His Castle Page 11
