by Diane Zahler
“Surely you can do better than that,” Manon taunted. She uttered her own spell in what sounded like the same language. Emmeline was lifted off her feet as if by invisible hands and tossed off the strand, landing ankle-deep in the sea.
It was like watching a horrific game of lawn tennis, as the incantations flew back and forth between the fairies. Always, though, Emmeline was pushed farther and farther off the strand, until she stood up to her waist in the waves. Each of Manon’s chants seemed to weigh on me, as if rocks were being piled atop my shoulders. And with each intonation, the waves rose a little higher on our tiny island.
Finally Luna could bear it no longer. She grabbed Leander’s arm. “Do something!” she commanded him. “This is all your fault, you wretched imp! If you hadn’t started it all by spurning Manon—”
His composure was shaken. “Don’t you think I know that?” he said. “But I cannot cast spells—I am not a fairy. My speed through air and water will not help here. There is nothing I can do.”
“If you love her, do something,” Luna repeated hotly.
“You must!” Symon urged, and I gave him a grateful look. “Aurora is your niece! You can’t just let Manon have her!”
My uncle’s calm, impassive face changed then. For just a moment, his features showed a trace of what the years had cost him—losing his family, losing his human self. There was an almost unbearable sadness in his eyes.
“Yes. You are quite right.” Prince Leander squared his shoulders and stood straighter. For the first time, I could see in him a little of the young prince as Mama had described him, ardent and strong. He stepped between the two fairies.
Manon had just spoken, and the strength of her spell sent him reeling to his knees. He struggled up and moved toward her, bent at the middle as if he were pushing against a great wind. He reached out, the strain of the movement showing in his face. When it seemed that he was about to grab Manon and choke her, she laughed, and his arms dropped lifelessly to his sides.
“Prince Leander to the rescue!” she scoffed. “You silly creature, what do you think to do against me? I can finish you with a flick of my wrist.” And she flicked her hand, sending Leander sprawling on the wet sand.
“No!” cried Emmeline, trying to pull herself out of the water. “This is between us, Manon! It is not about Leander.”
“Of course it is about Leander,” Manon retorted. “It was always about Leander. You took him from me when he was mine—mine!” I could hardly bear to listen and watch. Emmeline had spoken the truth. Manon was mad, utterly mad.
“Please, do not destroy him,” Emmeline pleaded.
Manon smiled at her, most dreadfully. “Yes, Cousin, what a waste that would be! Since you ask so nicely, I will not destroy him. Instead, I believe I will take him back.”
Standing knee-deep in the seawater, Emmeline covered her mouth with her hand in horror.
“Do you release him, Emmeline? Will you give him back to me?”
There was a moment of silence, and then Emmeline said, in a shaking voice, “Yes. I do release him. You are free to go with Manon, Leander.”
Leander got to his feet slowly and methodically began brushing the sand from his clothes. “But I was always free to go,” he said, unflustered. “I am with you because I love you, Emmeline.”
“Then I give you a choice,” Manon snarled, her tone ferocious. “You may come with me and stay a lutin, or become human again, and grow old like a man, and die.”
Emmeline wailed then, a sound of utter despair. I grabbed Symon’s hand hard enough to make him wince. I was sure that Prince Leander would never choose to become old and ugly and to die, when he could be immortal.
Leander bent a little to adjust his tunic. I couldn’t see his face, so I didn’t know what the words he spoke cost him, but his voice was tranquil. “Why, that is no choice at all,” he said. “I choose life and Emmeline, not the living death that eternity with you would force me to endure.”
Perhaps he could have put it more diplomatically. His reply stunned me, and I realized that he was stronger than he seemed. He had courage—and he truly loved Emmeline.
His words enraged Manon. As her anger intensified, the wind that blew across the strand gusted, whipping the waves higher. Now the land that we stood on was just a strip of sand, and the dark water lapped at our feet.
“So be it!” Manon cried, pointing at Prince Leander. I feared he would immediately grow ancient and wizened and wither before our eyes, but he didn’t change visibly. A great shudder shook his body, and then he was still.
Emmeline splashed over to him, and he put his arms around her. I saw Manon flinch. And then she turned once more to me.
“I shall not let you off so easily, my dear,” she said in a voice of deceptive sweetness.
Symon stepped bravely in front of me, but again Manon flicked her wrist, and he sailed through the air, landing with a splash a few yards away. He scrambled to his feet, but before he could get back to my side, Luna leaped forward.
“You must curse me instead,” she said firmly.
Manon paused. It was clear that she had not been expecting this.
“Why would I want to bother with you?” she asked with real curiosity.
“My sister shouldn’t have to sleep for a century,” Luna said. “I’m the one who should be punished. She’s done nothing wrong—never in her entire life! Not like me—I’ve lied, and deceived, and destroyed things, and hurt people. It’s my fault that she pricked her finger at all. I deserve the curse, not Aurora.”
The wind died into a great silence. I put my hand on Luna’s shoulder, sending her all the love and strength I could through my touch. I looked at Manon. Her face was thoughtful.
“Do you truly believe that you deserve it?” she asked Luna.
“Yes, I do,” she replied without hesitation.
Manon shook her head and laughed. “Foolish girl,” she said with contempt. “You are not what you think you are, nor is your sister. And the spell is already cast. It was settled the moment I cursed Aurora as an infant. There is no way to change it from one sister to the other, even if I desired it.”
I gave Luna’s shoulder a loving squeeze, then released her. I pushed her aside and stood alone to face Manon. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Luna splashing through the rising water to Emmeline, who stood motionless beside Prince Leander, her face grief-stricken.
“You must help Aurora!” Luna begged Emmeline. Her voice sounded faint and faraway to me. “Can’t you amend the curse? You did it once. You must alter it, shorten it—the way you did before. Not death for Mama, but a hundred years of sleep. Not a hundred years of sleep for Aurora, but . . .”
“Alter it?” Emmeline repeated uncertainly. “I’m not sure. . . .” Then her tone changed. “There is something—oh, Luna! Tell me, quickly, when is your sister’s birthday?”
“It’s . . . September twentieth,” Luna answered, bewildered. I heard their words as if from a great distance. They had no meaning to me. I was beginning to fade.
At that moment, Manon spoke. “Come here, Princess,” she said in a strangely tender voice. She reached out her hand and touched me, ever so gently, on the cheek. With her touch, Sleep came out from its hiding place, and the temptation that I had battled for so long grew too strong to resist.
It felt as I had always imagined death would feel—a slow, dizzying fall into a void. It was a little like being back in the whirlpool. I could not scream or even speak. I saw those I loved as I spun—Luna, shocked and horrified; Emmeline, turning to hide her face in Leander’s shoulder. And Symon, his expression one of deepest sorrow. I will miss you, I thought as blackness enfolded me. Do not forget me!
17
Of a Dreamer’s Destination
I had a dream.
In my dream, I heard a terrible noise and the crackle and hiss of flames. I felt cold water and salt spray, and then I was back in the Cateline, speeding across the sea. But it couldn’t be the Cateline, for I knew the li
ttle boat had been destroyed in the whirlpool. I lay with my head in my sister’s lap, feeling her familiar touch on my brow.
I heard Luna ask, “Will she wake?” She asked it over and over, her tone insistent and desperate. Emmeline’s reply was always the same: “I believe she will, darling.”
I felt the sun on my face, and then it was gone. This happened three times. Once there was an extraordinary splash and a wave that nearly capsized us. Luna’s voice came faintly to me: “A whale!” she cried. “Oh, look at its eye!” I struggled to open my own eyes to see the marvel, but I could not.
Time passed in my dream, and the boat scraped on sand. Waves broke on a shore, and gulls called overhead. There were people all around, their voices rising and falling. At first they cried out in fear, but Symon spoke to them. He told them who we were; he convinced them that we were not pirates or brigands. I heard a family offer us their home, the father’s voice gruff, the mother’s soft and gentle, and I felt myself lifted and carried. They placed me on a scratchy mattress in a warm room. There was a delicious smell of stewed meat, and my mouth watered.
“Why does she sleep so soundly?” a little girl asked, but her mother hushed her.
“She is enchanted,” I heard Luna reply.
“Will she ever wake?” another girl inquired.
“Of course she will,” Luna said.
“Why do you wear boys’ clothes?” one of them asked next.
“Child, don’t be rude!” the same woman exclaimed.
“No, it’s all right,” Luna assured her. “I wear them because I am a sailor, and you can’t sail in skirts.”
“And is that why your hair is short?” asked the girl.
“My hair is short because I like it that way,” Luna told her. I wanted to smile, for Luna sounded so much like herself. But I could not make my muscles move, even my lips.
“Mama!” said the girl. “I am going to cut off all my hair and wear boys’ clothes, just like Princess Luna!”
“You most certainly are not,” the mother said sternly. She sent the children out to play, and I thought, How I wish that I could see these people! But I knew that they would die long before I woke.
There were no voices for a time, though I could hear and smell things I had never truly noticed before. The breeze shushed through the window of the room, bringing the scent of wisteria with it. The fire crackled and smoked on the hearth. And then I heard my father whisper.
“Where is your sister?”
“She is asleep, over there,” Luna said. “But she will wake! She will wake, Papa.”
And next came Mama, murmuring, “Aurora, dearest.” Her voice caught on a sob. Her skirts rustled as she moved to where I lay, and I breathed in the spice-and-rose scent she always wore. I felt her gentle hand on my forehead, smoothing back my hair.
“My sweet child,” she said softly.
Then Leander spoke. I couldn’t hear what he said, but Mama cried out, “Oh, Brother, can it be you?” I struggled to break through to wakefulness, for I longed to see Mama and Leander reunited.
“Sleep, darling,” Mama said to me then, her voice soothing. “Everything will be well. Sleep now.”
And with that, something . . . changed. All at once Sleep, which had until now been a force that terrified and repelled me, softened and altered. Invisible arms reached out and cradled me. They were like my parents’ arms, strong and protective. I sank into them gratefully and gave myself up to oblivion at last. I could see nothing, hear nothing. All was calm and quiet and dark.
18
Of a Welcome Wakefulness
I opened my eyes to daylight. I was lying down; I could feel a soft mattress beneath me, a coverlet atop me. When I focused my gaze upward, I saw that the ceiling above was undecorated, painted a soft blue, so I knew I was not in Emmeline’s house. Then I remembered that her house—and the whole island—had dissolved under Manon’s power. I remembered everything, and tears came to my eyes.
I turned my head and saw the window of my bedchamber at home. I was home. Castle Armelle still stood, even after a hundred years! I struggled to raise myself a bit, feeling very weak and shaky. Not much had changed, it seemed. My chair and love seat, my dressing table, the flowered rug on the floor beside my bed, all still remained. Even the bed hangings looked as fresh as when I had last awakened here, a century before. I was glad that everything had been kept the same.
The chamber door opened, and I braced myself. A servant I had never met would come in, or a relative three generations or more removed from my beloved family. I squeezed my eyes closed, willing myself to endure whatever anguish the visitor would bring.
“Oh, Sister, you’re awake!” a familiar-sounding voice cried. My eyes flew open, and I saw Luna standing over me. She leaped onto the bed and hugged and kissed me, again and again, as I lay stunned and motionless.
This could not be Luna, I reasoned. It must be Luna’s great-granddaughter. Or great-great-granddaughter. I was amazed at how much she looked like my sister, though I thought that her nose might be a little longer, her tawny eyes a little lighter in color. Even her short curls were similar. Perhaps, I thought, Luna’s ridiculous haircut had spawned a new style that had persisted through the ages.
“Who . . . ?” was all I could manage, my long-unused voice coming out in a rasp.
“Don’t try to speak, Aurora!” the girl exclaimed, bouncing wildly on my bed. “I cannot believe it worked! We didn’t know for sure—though Emmeline promised us—but it was hard to have faith in her, you know. She’s really not very reliable with her magic. But she did this right. Oh, I must tell Mama and Papa!” She jumped off the bed and headed for the door.
“Wait,” I croaked. “How . . . ?”
The girl turned back. “That’s right,” she said in a voice full of wonder. “I forgot that you didn’t know.”
“Know . . . what?”
“That Emmeline amended the curse. That you have not slept for a hundred years, but only for two months.”
I stared at her, disbelieving.
“She changed it, Aurora, just as she did for Mama. From one hundred years to the end of your twelfth year.”
I was speechless, and as I gazed at the girl she was transformed before my eyes. Why, of course that was Luna’s own upturned nose, her warm smile! This was not Luna’s great-great-granddaughter, but my own sweet sister. And with that realization, I burst into tears.
Luna became frantic. “Oh no, no, please don’t cry! Oh, Sister, I’m sorry, it’s all too much. . . . Let me get Mama and Papa.”
I nodded, weeping, and she ran off, calling for our parents. They could not have been far away, for they came into my room almost at once. At the sight of their dear faces, worn with worry and care, I cried even harder.
Mama rushed to me and took me in her arms, and I remembered the feeling of Sleep’s embrace as I surrendered. I had thought then that I would never see Mama again—yet here she was, only two months older! Then Papa hugged me, whispering, “Hello, Daughter!” He stood and blew his nose in a snow-white handkerchief and handed another one to me, and I wiped my eyes.
Mama sat beside me on the bed and stroked my brow. “We have been attending to you each day, Aurora, brushing your hair so it did not tangle and making sure you were comfortable in every way. It was all that we could do. . . . Oh, dearest, the waiting has been agony!”
“Poor Mama,” I murmured, patting her hand. “You must have taken very good care of me. I feel well enough—rested, at last! But I think I am very weak.”
“You’ve been lying down for two months,” Luna pointed out. “But once you are up, I’m sure you’ll get your strength back quickly. I’ll help.”
I smiled at her. There was a knock at the door, and Luna ran to open it. In came Emmeline, her face beaming, and behind her was Prince Leander.
“I am awake, Godmother,” I said happily.
“So I see, darling. Good for you!” she exclaimed. “Oh, I am so very glad it worked!”
&nbs
p; Mama gasped. “Emmeline, you promised it would work!”
Emmeline reddened. “I was fairly certain,” she said, looking at the floor.
Mama stood, putting a delicate hand to her throat. “Fairly? If I had known it might fail . . .”
“But it did not fail,” Prince Leander cut in easily. “All is well, Sister.”
I looked at the prince—my uncle!—as he hugged Mama to him. They were together at last, after a hundred years and more. Mama looked happier than I could ever remember her, her cheeks flushed with pink.
Then I recalled what had happened on the island. Leander’s face was no longer perfect; a few lines marred the smoothness of his skin. “Are you . . . ,” I began, but I could think of no way to ask gracefully what I wanted to know. Luckily, Luna had no qualms.
“Uncle Leander is a human now,” she told me, perching beside me again. “Do you remember that? He chose to be one—it was very noble.”
“Very romantic,” I said, and Emmeline smiled.
“Yes, both romantic and noble,” she agreed. “Leander insists that he will remain young in spirit, even as his body ages. And I will give up my vanity and age with him, as much as I can.” She reached for Leander’s hand and squeezed it. I was close enough to see the sadness in her eyes, though, and my heart ached for her. How dreadful it would be for her to have to watch her beloved die, while she lived on and on!
But Emmeline could not stay unhappy for long. Her face grew merry again, and she said, “But he will always be the handsomest man in the world, even when he is old and gray. And he will never be nearly as old as I!”
At this, Leander laughed. It was a completely human laugh, joyous and sorrowful at the same time.
“But where is Master Julien? Surely he is not in the dungeon, is he? And Symon—is he here?” I inquired in what I hoped was a nonchalant voice.
“Our tutor is busy doing what he does best—teaching,” Luna said.
“Oh, has he found another position?” I asked.
Luna grinned at me. “No indeed,” she said gleefully. “He’s teaching Symon geography. And cartography. And astronomy, and mathematics as well. It’s quite a fascinating course of learning. I’ve been studying with them.”
