The Autumn Castle

by Kim Wilkins

  He gazed at her warily. “And what if I do?”

  “You boil off everything, just keep the bones.”

  “That’s right.”

  “There’s more magic. There’s magic in her eyes and magic in her hair and magic in her skin.” Hexebart pinched a fingerful of her own crepey skin to demonstrate.

  “I only want her bones.”

  “You’ll waste the magic. I know a way to extract it all.”

  “How?”

  “Hexebart can show you. Hexebart can make you a little spell to help.” She pushed her hands together and her fingers tapped each other gently. As Mandy watched, a golden glow began to grow between them. “Ah, ah, spin and spin,” Hexebart said. Moments later she presented him with a glowing ball, about the size of an eyeball. “For you, Immanuel.”

  “What is it? What do I do with it?”

  “Make Mayfridh touch the doll, then blow this spell on her and say, ‘Extract.’ All the magic will flow into the doll. Then you can kill the queen and not waste a drop of royal magic. Lovely, lovely royal magic.” Hexebart leaned close. “She’s full of it, you know,” she whispered, her breath warm and garlic-scented in his face.

  Mandy gazed at the ball on his palm. This was worth all the food Hexebart had eaten, all the mess she had made. He was feeling so fond and generous in that moment, he considered letting her go once Mayfridh was dead. His smile turned to a frown. If she knew what the sculpture was made of, why wasn’t she worried that she might be his next victim?

  “Why are you helping me?” he asked.

  “Because you’re hiding me until Mayfridh is dead. Once she’s dead, I don’t have to hide and I don’t have to stay here. Hexebart is running away to Paris.”

  Mandy weighed her words. He had a spell to extract all of Mayfridh’s magic, and he had Mayfridh’s bones within his grasp. The Bone Wife would be finished, and she would be perfectly enchanted. She would be able to make him breakfast in bed, wash his sheets, clean his toilet. Oh, it would be bliss, a lifetime’s achievement, a boyhood dream made manifest. “Very well, Hexebart. You may run away to Paris,” he said. “As long as I finish my sculpture, I don’t care what you do.”

  “Oh, you wait until you see your dolly dance once she has royal magic in her,” Hexebart said, lifting her skirts and kicking her legs in a jig. “La, da da. La, da da.”

  “What time?”

  “Midnight,” Hexebart said in a portentous voice, raising a crooked finger. “The hour for witches.” With a sweep of her arm, she cleared the drawings off his desk.

  “Hey!” he protested.

  “Shush now, Immanuel,” she said, reaching for his hands. “We are too busy for drawings. We have scheming to do.”

  Mayfridh was returning from the breakfast room of her hotel when she heard the phone ringing. She placed her room key on the table and scooped up the receiver. This would be Jude, she knew it. He would be phoning to tell her he’d made his decision, he was coming to Ewigkreis with her.

  “Hello?” she said.

  “Hello? Hello?” A female voice, familiar but too strange in this context to pinpoint exactly.

  “Who is this?” She could hear Diana in the bathroom, water running, a soft humming.

  “It’s me.”

  Mayfridh puzzled a moment longer, then the voice made sense. “Hexebart?” she gasped. Of course, Hexebart. The old witch was too clever to appear in person. “Where are you?”

  “Never you mind, never you mind that.” Her voice was distant, quiet, as though she hadn’t quite got the hang of how to use the phone. “You must do as I say, Queen Mayfridh. I know things, I know awful things.”

  Hexebart had never called her Queen Mayfridh. “What are you talking about?”

  “I know awful things and I was wrong. I want to give your magic back.”

  “Hexebart, you’ll have to explain better than that.”

  “He’s coming,” she whispered urgently. “I have to go. Meet me at Immanuel’s house at midnight. I’ll leave the door open and I’ll make sure he isn’t home. Bring the others if you like.”

  “If you’re going to give my magic back, why not now? Why not come here in person?”

  “Trust me, stubborn girl.” Then the phone clicked.

  “Hello? Hexebart? Damn!” She slammed the phone down as her mother emerged from the bathroom.

  “Is everything all right, May?”

  “I don’t know. I doubt it.” She was already grabbing her coat and scarf. “I have to find Jude and the others and see what they think.”

  Diana gently took her elbow as she headed for the door. “Jude and the others? Don’t you mean Christine and the others?”

  Mayfridh shook her off with an involuntary scowl. “They’re all my friends now.”

  “May, I hope you’re being careful. With your own heart, and with the hearts of others.” Diana’s eyes were soft and sincere; Mayfridh felt herself start to crumple inside.

  “Mum, I’m . . .” Then a sob caught in her throat. “I’m in a terrible mess, Mum.”

  Diana folded her into her arms and rubbed her back. “Oh, May. Are you in love with him?”

  Mayfridh nodded. “And he’s in love with me, but we can’t be together.”

  “Because he belongs to Christine?”

  “No, because he belongs to the Real World.” Mayfridh brought her tears under control and stood back. “I can’t deal with this now, I can’t think about it. Hexebart called. She wants me to meet her tonight, she says she’ll give back my magic.”

  Diana’s face paled at the mention of the witch. “Tell me you aren’t going near her. Tell me you don’t trust her.”

  “Of course I don’t trust her, but it may be my only opportunity to catch her. If the others will help.” Mayfridh pulled on her coat. “She called me Queen Mayfridh, Mum. It’s the first time she’s ever done that. She said she’d found out something awful. Maybe she knows about Mandy and his bone-hunting. Maybe it’s made her change her mind about me.” Mayfridh almost laughed, imagining Eisengrimm’s skepticism. “Whatever she has planned for me, though, she has to be at Mandy’s at midnight to do it. She’s eluded me until now, and time is running out.”

  Diana gave her a quick squeeze. “Be careful, May. I don’t want to lose you a second time.”

  Mayfridh forced a smile. They both knew that a second loss was inevitable. “I’ll be careful.” She kissed her mother on the cheek and headed for Hotel Mandy-Z.

  She found Jude alone in his studio. He was sitting on the blue sofa surrounded by sealed and labeled boxes. The room seemed bare and empty, cleared of the usual mess. He gazed at a half-finished canvas, a cigarette dangling between his lips.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Don’t close the door,” he replied, obviously mindful of their last encounter here, when Gerda had found them. “I’m expecting Christine.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  “I never liked this one, so I’m leaving it. I’m just trying to memorize the parts of it that I can use somewhere else.”

  She didn’t have time to appreciate his painting. “Hexebart has been in touch.”

  “Yeah?”

  Mayfridh explained while Jude responded with a dubious drawing-down of his eyebrows.

  “It may be my best chance of capturing Hexebart,” she finished. “I have to do it.”

  “I understand. I think the others will understand too, and we’ll come with you, but not Christine. Christine has suffered enough. If we all get turned into frogs—”

  “I keep telling you she can’t turn us into frogs, and I’ll have those last few spells with me in case she tries any mischief.”

  “Nevertheless, I don’t want Christine there. She’s not herself, Mayfridh. She’s withdrawn; she won’t talk to me. I can’t imagine what she’s going through.” He held up his left hand, the cigarette firmly between his two forefingers. “You know she lost her engagement ring along with it.”

  Mayfridh’s skin prickled with i
rritation. He spoke as though he were really in love with Christine. “Jude, don’t pretend there’s nothing between us.”

  “There’s nothing between us, Mayfridh,” he said, and drew deeply on his cigarette.

  “I’ll never believe that. You can still change your mind and come with me. If I can catch Hexebart tonight, I’ll be leaving tomorrow. You could come with me. You could forget all your guilt, all the awful things that weigh on your heart. We’ll have love and laughter and a future. You’ll be the king of a magnificent land, you’ll live for hundreds of years, young and beautiful.”

  Jude shook his head. “That’s not my future, Mayfridh,” he said.

  “Why not?” She wanted to stamp her feet and shout. How could he be so stubborn?

  “You know why not,” he replied gently. “Just as you know why you’d never trade faeryland for the Real World.” He lifted himself from the sofa and crushed his cigarette out on the floor. “Come on, we should find Christine and the others.”

  Mayfridh was frozen to the spot, her mind suddenly aflame with possibilities. Did she know that she would never trade Ewigkreis for the Real World? Did she know for sure?

  Midnight. He only had to wait until midnight.

  Mandy paced the boning room. Around once, twice, three times. The hag had arranged for Mayfridh to come to him; had given him magic to lure her up here. Dreams were coming true.

  He stopped in front of his Bone Wife. So many years had passed since he first conceived of her. Childhood had curved into adolescence, adolescence had wheeled into adulthood with all its attendant mundanities: financial commitments, business agreements, personal responsibilities. Yet he had always clung to this dream, and resolved to call it destiny rather than fancy. The long gestation was nearly over. He was like a pregnant cat, pacing and settling, pacing and settling. A life’s work would culminate in the next few hours. He only had to wait until midnight.

  He reached up to switch the boiler on. It clunked and swallowed, then slowly the sweet hiss of the elements warming up began to fill the room. The engine was a white-noise backdrop to his musings. He closed his eyes and felt a warm wash of contentment, of rightness. Her head from her neck, her flesh from her bones, her essence surrendered to the most sacred of his boyish dreams. He could imagine the colors he would never see, deep crimsons and wet purples; he could imagine the feel of her under his wicked thumbs, the pressure of longing, and a sweet, violent end for the queen of the faeries.

  Mayfridh stood at the window of Christine and Jude’s apartment, gazing at the world outside. It was eight minutes before midnight, and teeming rain swept the dark street. Beyond Vogelwald-Allee, cars slid past on Friedrichstrasse, muted to silence by the double glazing. Lights from shops, the glitter of streetlights, and the rhythmic change of traffic signals from green to red reflected on the slick road surface. Mayfridh felt at once a part of it, and excluded from it: attached by a deep love for the city and its ceaseless cadence, estranged by the fact of her being made of different stuff. The Real World wasn’t her world. She hadn’t aged since she reached adulthood and wouldn’t for hundreds of years to come; she would live for four hundred years; she had the ability to perform magic and distribute goodwill and blessings to her entire land. She was different, she was other.

  Behind her, the door to the apartment opened softly and she heard voices, urgent with whispers. Christine approached over her right shoulder and tapped her gently. “Mayfridh, Pete and Fabiyan are here. It’s nearly time.”

  Mayfridh slowly turned from the window. “Thanks, Christine.” She touched Christine’s shoulder, smoothed hair away from her pokey face. “Thanks for everything.”

  Christine involuntarily gave her a smile, wary though it was. Suddenly, Mayfridh wished for nothing so much as to have never come to the Real World, to have never met Jude or Mandy or reunited with Christine or Diana. She regretted too deeply the chaos of the heart that had followed her.

  “Gather close, everyone,” Mayfridh said, keeping her voice low. Christine, Jude, Gerda, Pete, and Fabiyan surrounded her. “Christine, the spells?”

  Christine handed over the remaining three spells. Mayfridh could sense her reluctance. She pushed two into the pocket of her overalls and weighed the third on her palm. “I’m going to work a protection spell over all of us. It won’t protect us from everything, so you still have to be vigilant and sensible, but if Hexebart tries any mischief it should minimize the effect and duration. Everyone hold still.” Mayfridh worked the magic, all the time watching them watch her—especially Jude—and feeling vainly pleased with their awe.

  “Okay,” said Gerda, when Mayfridh had finished. “Can we go over the plan again?”

  “First we check that Hexebart was telling the truth, and that Mandy isn’t home,” Mayfridh said.

  “And if he isn’t,” Pete responded, “Fabiyan and I will go down to the laundry to the fuse box and switch off the electricity so we can rewire the warning lights.”

  “But if he’s there,” Gerda said, “we all close ranks around Mayfridh so he can’t get her.”

  “It’s really important for me to catch Hexebart,” Mayfridh said. “The survival of my whole world is dependent on it. I know that I can’t expect you to understand fully—”

  “Sweetie, we wouldn’t be helping if it were anything less dire,” Gerda said drily. “I have no desire to be near that witch again.”

  “We understand,” Jude said. “We’ll do our best.”

  “If we see her, we have to keep her hands apart. She can’t do any magic with her hands apart,” Mayfridh warned.

  “I’ll grab one hand, Gerda can grab the other,” Jude said.

  “Good,” Mayfridh replied. “So, Pete and Fabiyan will take care of the electricity, and Jude and Gerda will help me with Hexebart.”

  “Um . . .” This was Christine, leaning on the back of the sofa. “What am I supposed to be doing?”

  Jude turned and tapped his index finger gently on her shoulder. “You’re not coming.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “Because you’ve already sacrificed enough of yourself to help me,” Mayfridh said.

  “Because I won’t let you come,” Jude added.

  Christine looked from Jude to Mayfridh. “Oh, and you two have already discussed this and decided upon it, have you?”

  “Shh,” Gerda said, “don’t raise your voice.”

  Christine glanced around, dropping her voice to a harsh whisper. “I’m not an invalid, I’m not an idiot. Stop treating me like one. I’m coming with you.”

  “No,” Jude said forcefully. “No, you’re not.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Pete intervened, waving his skinny arms. “Guys, guys. This isn’t a good time for arguing.”

  “What if Mandy’s up there? What if he decides to take your other hand?” Jude said.

  “It’s my decision. It’s not yours.”

  “I’m only trying to protect you.”

  Christine fell silent a moment, shaking her head at him. Then she said slowly, “I never asked you to protect me.”

  “If she wants to come, let her come,” Gerda said irritably. “If Mandy’s there, I’ll push her down the stairs and out the door myself.” She checked her watch. “Come on, it’s time to go.”

  They left the apartment and, as quietly as they could, filed up the stairs to Mandy’s apartment. Jude led the way with Mayfridh close behind him. She glanced over her shoulder. Christine’s arm was interlocked with Gerda’s, behind Pete and Fabiyan. Mandy’s door now stood in front of them.

  “She said she’d leave it open,” Mayfridh told them.

  Jude pushed the door. It swung inward. “Reliable so far,” he said, then beckoned the others to follow him inside.

  The television was on with the sound down, and all the lights were blazing. Half-eaten food on dirty plates cluttered the tables and floor.

  “Hexebart?” Mayfridh called timidly.

  Pete and Fabiyan broke away from the others
and began checking the rooms.

  “Nobody down here,” Fabiyan said. “We should check upstairs.”

  They advanced up to Mandy’s studio. Again, it was empty.

  “Okay, Mandy’s not here,” Pete said. “Fabiyan and I are on our way to the fuse box. Who’s got the flashlights?”

  Gerda and Jude held up a flashlight each.

  “We’ll be back in a few minutes,” Pete said, and he and Fabiyan disappeared.

  “Mandy’s not here,” Mayfridh mused, “and neither is Hexebart.”

  Christine indicated the locked black door that led to Mandy’s boning room. “She could be up there.”

  “Three locks, two spells,” Mayfridh replied.

  At precisely that moment, the door clicked and swung inward on a narrow, empty stairwell. Mayfridh jumped back with an involuntary shriek.

  “Queen Mayfridh?” Hexebart’s voice, from up the stairs.

  “Hexebart?”

  “Come upstairs. I have something for you, but you have to come alone.”

  Mayfridh peered up the stairwell to the bright yellow line of light. A low rumble came from nearby. Hexebart hadn’t yet shown her face.

  Jude was shaking his head. “Don’t go up there. Mandy’s probably up there with her. It’s a trap.”

  “I have to catch her.”

  “Then we’ll come up with you.” He moved to stand next to her. “Come on.”

  The stairwell was too narrow for Gerda to flank her on the other side, but she followed. Christine made to join them, but Gerda turned and said, “We need you down here to tell Pete and Fabiyan what’s going on.”

  “Okay,” Christine replied, and took up position by the door.

  “Don’t let that door close behind us.”

  “I won’t.”

  Mayfridh’s heart hammered as she took the narrow stairs one at a time. The reassuring warmth of Jude’s shoulder pressed against hers was not enough to ease her trepidation. What if, what if, what if? She wanted to turn and run, but Hexebart was up there and she needed Hexebart. Everyone in Ewigkreis needed Hexebart.

  Two steps from the top of the staircase and a black shape loomed out. Mandy.