by Jon Jacks
Carey turned back to look at the carriage once more. Yes, it had stopped directly opposite her. And the door was right in front of her.
But all this was just a coincidence, surely?
‘No, no; it can’t be me,’ she insisted nervously. ‘I mean, why me? There must be some mistake!’
‘This is what you wanted, isn’t it?’ someone close by said.
‘It’s your chance to see the Illuminator.’
‘Go on girl!’ someone else kindly urged as she received another gentle push in her back.
She stepped, almost stumbled forward, expecting the door to humiliatingly close before her as she approached it. But the door remained open, the steps remained in place.
She warily placed a foot on the lowest of the steps, expecting the step to suddenly withdraw from beneath her at any second.
Nothing happened.
She stepped up onto the next step.
She leaned forward into the carriage’s wondrously upholstered interior.
As she stepped inside, the steps were swiftly raised behind her, and the door silently closed. As soon as she was comfortably seated, the horses began to elegantly and smoothly turn the carriage around.
The crowds parted once more for the carriage. Seeing Carey inside, they waved and cheered as if it were the Princess herself making her way through them.
As she wasn’t sure what else she should do, Carey cheerfully waved back.
*
Even as her white carriage slowly approached the open gates, Carey could see the black carriage waiting inside the walls. The black horses impatiently pawed the ground, eager to set out on their own task, even though there must still be quite a time to pass before they’d be allowed to leave. Perhaps they were always on call, Carey reasoned, as no one was really sure when they would be next needed.
The gates swung silently to behind her as the carriage entered the palace courtyard.
Suddenly she felt very alone. There were no signs of any human activity. Even the cheering of the crowd had abruptly come to an end as the gates had closed, as if their closing had instantly drowned out all sound from outside.
The courtyard, however, was magnificent, with plush green lawns framed and cut across by a whirl of paving. Trees and bushes had been carefully trimmed into all manner of elaborate shapes, from squares to pyramids, and spirals to web-like structures.
Even leaning against the window and looking up as high as she could, Carey couldn’t see where the top of the palace itself ended. She could see, though, that it was made up of an array of towers sprouting still further towers, all held together by vast, connecting arches and bridges. It glittered as if formed from the most glorious coral, the clouds flowing past its upper reaches like languidly shifting shoals of fish.
The carriage drew to a halt at the bottom of an incredibly wide set of steps that elegantly curved their way up towards the palace’s immense doors. As the carriage’s door opened, so did these great doors.
Tripping down the carriage’s own steps, Carey stepped out onto the staircase. The carriage’s door closed quietly behind her then, with nothing more than the almost silent trotting of the horses, the carriage slowly drew away from the steps, leaving Carey all alone beneath the imperiously dominating palace.
Carey quickly ascended the stairs. She stepped through the great doors.
It was like walking into the very midst of a rainbow (if, of course, that were actually possible).
Carey had once been fortunate enough to bathe in a completely clear pool beneath a waterfall where, when she ducked below the surface, she was amazed to see how the sunlight split into thousands of sparkling rainbows, playing amongst the ripples and waves flowing everywhere about her. But that experience was as nothing to what she was seeing now.
As if the world’s entire hoard of jewels had been crushed and scattered in the air, every colour Carey had ever come across sparkled and glowed, hovered and flowed, no matter where she looked. The light formed into foxes, cows, dragons, men, women, ships, and castles, all of them lingering and mingling in the vast space stretching before her.
Only when she ignored all this imposing play of light and forced herself to look beyond it did she see the building’s actual structure, as minimal as it was. The stonework was little more than a fine tracery, with vast windows of stained glass supported between it. Gigantic circular windows, formed like the closely set sails of a windmill, twirled slowly as a light breeze caught and rippled along their edges.
Suddenly, Carey didn’t just feel all alone but also very small and inconsequential too.
Why would the Porcelain Princess, let along the Illuminator, want to see her?
And even if they did, what if all the tales she had heard about the Illuminator before the Princess’s arrival were true? What if she didn’t really control him, but he, secretly, controlled her?
Where were all the demons, the devils, who had once inhabited the dark tower?
She shivered as a huge, dark shape enveloped her, seemingly passing through her as it continued to whirl on through the air. It was a whale, colossal and beautiful, and actually of the darkest blue rather than black. It appeared to rise up through the space, as if striving to leap free of the building itself.
For the first time, she began to recognise the characters flowing about her.
The Fox’s Fingers.
The Old Woman & the Young Girl’s Shoes.
Our Laudable Tinker & the Impoverished Judge.
They were all taken from tales that the Illuminator had illustrated. Some that she recognised, others that she didn’t, or at least couldn’t yet place.
The whale swam amongst them all, chased by the white sails and bright pennants of a pursuing fleet.
Ah yes; she knew that story.
*
Chapter 18
The Whale & the Devil
For the eighth time that year, the fishing fleet returned from a month at sea with little to show for it.
‘The shoals have deserted us!’ the fishermen unhappily wailed.
‘The men have let us down again!’ the women stormed.
‘Our mothers leave us to go hungry!’ the children complained.
‘We can’t feed our horses, so they can’t plough the fields.
‘We can’t feed our dogs, so our hunting fails.
‘We can’t feed our cats, so rats and mice steal our supplies.
‘We can’t feed our land, so all our corn dies.’
But on the ninth time that the fleet set sail, a whale appeared amongst them.
‘It’s an omen!’ the men happily cried. ‘A good omen! See how its spout bursts forth like a fountain of plenty. Follow the whale, and it will lead us to fresh shoals!’
So the men trimmed their sails, and set to their oars, and eased on their rudders, following the whale across the sea to a fishing ground the likes of which they had never seen. They cast their nets, they drew them in.
‘Look at our nets! They’re fit to burst!’ the men yelled in delight as they hauled catch after catch aboard, more than they had ever caught, more than they needed.
‘Only fools would scorn such good fortune,’ they told each other happily as they set for home.
‘The shoals have returned to us!’ the fishermen triumphantly declared.
‘The men have done us proud again!’ the women trilled.
‘Our mothers would never let us go hungry!’ the children sang.
‘We can feed our horses, so they can plough the fields.
‘We can feed our dogs, so our hunting’s a success.
‘We can feed our cats, so rats and mice won’t steal our supplies.
‘We can feed our land, so all our corn grows so high.’
And so now each month the fleet set sail, it waite
d patiently for the arrival of the whale.
‘There, there’s the whale!’ they would cry out excitedly as she came amongst them once more.
So they trimmed their sails, and set to their oars, and eased on their rudders, following the whale across the sea to fishing grounds the likes of which they had never seen. They cast their nets, they drew them in.
‘The small fish, who needs them?’ the men declared, tossing the dead fish they didn’t need back into the sea.
‘Don’t look down on such good fortune,’ others yelled, cramming their holds so full of fish that many were crushed and made useless to anyone.
But on the ninth time that the fleet followed the whale, the shoals weren’t quite so plentiful anymore.
‘Why, we’ve often seen better catches than this!’ the men grumbled, remembering only the good times, and forgetting the bad.
They cast their nets, they drew them in.
‘What fools threw away perfectly good fish last time?’ they moaned.
‘Don’t pack them in so badly we waste them!’ the captains barked.
‘Why didn’t we smoke and preserve the fish when they were plentiful?’ their crews muttered.
So they trimmed their sails, and set to their oars, and eased on their rudders, and headed for home.
‘The shoals aren’t what they were!’ the fishermen howled.
‘The men bring back mostly excuses again!’ the women snapped.
‘Our mothers sometimes let us go hungry!’ the children whined.
‘We can barely feed our horses, so they struggle to plough the fields.
‘We can barely feed our dogs, so our hunting’s not what it was.
‘We can barely feed our cats, so rats and mice nibble at our supplies.
‘We can barely feed our land, so all our corn doesn’t stretch so high.’
One day, a man arrived in the fishing village.
‘You fools!’ he snarled. ‘Don’t you see what’s really happening here? Don’t you see who’s really to blame? The whale has been feeding off your good fortune! Following you to the fishing grounds fortune led you to! What do you think such a great beast feeds on? Shrimps and pebbles? It’s been feeding on your fish with its great maw, and scaring the rest away with its even greater greed!’
‘No, no,’ some good men amongst the villagers protested in defence of the whale. ‘The whale herself was our great fortune, let us not forget that!’
‘I have it on good authority,’ the man reposted, ‘that the whale is akin to the Devil himself!’
‘No, no!’ Now even fewer men protested the whale’s innocence. ‘Don’t you remember how we all saw and commented on the way the sun’s light would form rainbows in the spray of the whale’s glorious spouts of water?’
But these men were now very few, and they were easily shouted down.
‘We don’t need to listen to you!’ the villagers cried. ‘Who are you to think you speak for us, when this most learned and intelligent man has fortunately arrived amongst us to warn us of our folly?’
‘This is correct,’ the man said, ‘for I have indeed studied such things to a most impressive degree. But I will forgive the ill-informed amongst you, for they are not to know as I know – having read the most august journals, available only to the world’s elite – that the whale has been observed on many occasions dragging simple fishermen like yourselves to their deaths!’
‘How? How does the whale do this?’ all the men now fearfully demanded of the man, fearing for their own lives, thinking themselves truly fortunate that this man had arrived in time to warn them of the fate that could have awaited them.
‘By devious means, by entrapment, as the Devil himself works! The whale lies still upon the ocean, allowing soil to wash upon its back. Then the birds bring seeds, and grass and bushes grow upon it, until the whale takes on the semblance of an island. And then when some poor fishing vessel seeks safe harbour from the tossing waves, and beaches itself on this semblance of an island; well then at last the whale dives down and down into the sea’s depths, taking the boat and all its poor men with it!’
‘It’s true, it’s true!’ someone cried out in terror. ‘How many times did we see this monstrous beast waiting like this but we only thought it was basking in the sun?’
‘So, why do you hunger and go without when you can kill two birds with one stone?’ the man reasonably asked the crowd. ‘For the whale itself is the equivalent of a vast catch of fish, with meat and blubber and oil to keep the whole village fed for a year!
‘You can feed your horses, so you can plough the fields.
‘You can feed your dogs, so your hunting’s a success.
‘You can feed your cats, so rats and mice won’t steal your supplies.
‘You can feed your land, so all your corn grows so high.’
‘The shoals will return to us!’ the fishermen merrily predicted.
‘The men will have done us proud again!’ the women reassured themselves.
‘Our mothers will never let us go hungry!’ the children believed.
So the fishermen trimmed their sails, and set to their oars, and eased on their rudders, and the fleet set sail. They cast their nets aside, they drew out their harpoons. And soon the whale appeared amongst them.
‘See how its spout bursts forth like a poisoned spring!’ the men cried. ‘It’s an omen! An ill omen! Follow the whale, else it will lead our souls to their doom!’
Following the whale across the sea, they came to fishing grounds the likes of which they had never seen. But they ignored the fish. They didn’t draw them in. They cast their harpoons.
In their anger, they cast them again and again. But not one hit its mark, for the great whale at last dived down and down, seeking safe harbour in the depths of the sea.
And the whale, like the great shoals of fish, was never seen again.
And what of the Devil?
Well, that very night he stole away from the village, laughing at the fisher folk and their stupidity.
*
Chapter 19
At the other end of the great room, a large set of doors silently opened.
When the Porcelain Princess stepped through the doors, she sparkled in the colour-saturated air as if she were the most glorious thing in existence.
Never, ever, had Carey seen so many brilliant tones and shades all in one place. The reds of robin breasts, the greens of butterfly wings, the blues of warm seas, the silver of flashing swords, the golds of endless wheat fields, and a glorious magenta that swirled and eddied as if drawn from the midst of the cosmos itself. A treasure hoard would have seemed dull and uninteresting by comparison.
The Princess glided across the floor. She smiled at Carey – and then she stopped, and she stared, and her eyes opened wide in amazement.
Carey wasn’t sure, but as she was also completely amazed, she guessed she must look the same.
Exactly the same.
They studied each other as if catching themselves by surprise in a mirror and, suddenly realising that the image was more real than they had previously imagined, reaching out as if to touch this semblance of their hair, this perfect copy of their face; but then swiftly withdrawing their hand back, as if thinking that fulfilling the touch would somehow either destroy the magic or, worse, draw them ever deeper into its grip.
‘I…I can’t believe it…’
‘I was expecting…but not this…’
‘…told it was true, yet…’
‘…the pictures, they showed that…’
They circled each other, each swapping one place for the other, then swapping back again as they moved positions once more.
The Princess giggled.
Carey chuckled.
Then they both laughed together, as if they could have been long lost sisters reunited again at long last.
‘I would have invited you here earlie
r,’ the Princess finally admitted, indicating with a wave of her hand that she wanted Carey to walk with her back towards the doors leading deeper into the palace, ‘but I wanted to give you time to put on one of your shows. I’m sorry I missed it; but I heard your puppets were remarkable!’
As the Princess spoke and walked alongside her, Carey noticed that her movements weren’t at all puppet-like, as she’d come to expect living with her friends.
‘And that’s why you’re here of course; to give your friends life?’
The Princess said it in such a way that it came across as a question, as if she were giving Carey the chance to ask herself if that were the real reason why she was here.
‘I realise it seems odd, even a little greedy,’ Carey admitted. ‘I mean, it’s already incredible that my friends can move and talk, as if alive. But as you know – well, I suppose you know, seeing that everyone here already seems to know so much about me! – it’s not a real life, but all thanks to these ingenious mechanisms developed by my grandfathers and what have you. The trouble is, as my friends can think, they know it’s not a real life. They realise what they have, but also what they’re missing.’
‘Hah, so you’re saying they want to be really alive; like me, you mean?’
The Princess smiled as she observed Carey curiously.
Carey sighed with relief. She had begun to wonder how she would phrase the many questions she wanted to ask the Princess.
‘Er, yes,’ Carey said, still a little nervous about how she would ask her next question. It seemed a rude, intrusive question to ask; yet she had travelled so far, and for so long, she had to ask it now. ‘How did it happen? How did you suddenly come to life?’
‘Well, as it seemed to me, Carey, I did just “suddenly” come to life! Like anyone else, I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t here; at some point, I just became aware that I was here. Strange as it seems, when it comes to explaining why and how I’m here, just like anyone else I only have the stories about me to go on. Are you saying you don’t believe those stories, Carey?’
‘Imagination? You believe it really is the power of everyone’s imagination that gives you life?’
The Princess stopped in the doorway, turning to look back into the room they had just stepped out of. The air swam with colour, flowing, undulating and glistening like a captive aurora borealis.
‘See all this quite wonderful magenta?’ the Princess asked, pointing out the areas where the purplish-pink tones were most evident.
‘How could I miss it? It’s beautiful.’
