by Jon Jacks
Carey glanced about the room, wondering if all of this was his creation.
‘The prices for even the simplest piece, however, were completely out of the reach of even the richest of the townspeople. Not that they didn’t think the prices fair; everything he’d made was a work of art in its own right. Of course, not a single piece was sold. And so, even as night fell, they remained in place around his caravan, the townspeople having reassured him that nothing would be stolen as everyone would be safely in their beds.
‘As he took to his own bed, he wasn’t bothered that he hadn’t sold anything. Knowing that a busy and important man like the Illuminator wouldn’t just see anyone who turned up in his town, he had been creating these wonderful pieces over the years simply to create a sensation that the Illuminator would find impossible to ignore.
‘Now naturally, this was still the time when – when the town’s darkness was at its most complete – the gates within the tower’s high walls would briefly open, and the black carriage would thunder across the square. It had only one purpose; to deliver the latest story to the rest of the world. As far as the black horses were concerned, anything in their way that wasn’t alive (and, some people were sure, even anything that was alive!) clearly shouldn’t be in their way! They charged through the display of white porcelain, shattering everything they touched, smashing everything they didn’t as the shards flew around the square like glistening pieces of ice, shattering their sister pieces.
‘Woken by the terrifying noise of pounding hooves and cracking porcelain, the father leapt out of bed, rushing to the caravan’s door and flinging it open. His priceless collection of porcelain had vanished, replaced by nothing but oddly shaped pieces scattered across the dark ground.
‘Now he had nothing to offer the Illuminator!
‘How would he grant his poor daughter life now?
‘He had never felt so helpless in his life. His whole body sagged. His head dropped low. He wept and wept.
‘In fact, it was such an incredibly low point in his life, a time of utter dismay like he had never experienced before, that we can never be sure what he might have done next. Fortunately, his daughter was close by. And he distinctly heard her say to him that night, “Don’t worry Father; you will give me life!”
‘And so, the next day he knew what he had to do; he would put on a show!’
‘A show?’ Carey asked, amazed.
‘A puppet show! Didn’t I say he was a Puppet Master?’
‘But all the ceramics, the porcelain!’
‘He and his wife had learned its secrets only to give their daughter life!’
‘Still; it’s a bit of a coincidence, isn’t it? I mean, with me also owning a puppet theatre!’
‘The world is full of them, Carey; puppet theatres, I mean!’
Cary shrugged. That was true enough.
‘Which show?’ she asked out of professional curiosity, not really sure if the Princess would have an answer.
‘Well, what else Carey? The Porcelain Child! And what a show he put on, by all accounts. His audience recognised the story, naturally; they’d even seen other shows of it, played by both real actors and puppets. Yet, they had never seen it being played with such incredible emotion, such empathy – and of course, now we know the reason why. It was a story of his own life, after all. Yet the most amazing surprise was to come at the very end – the revealing of the porcelain child herself!
‘They weren’t to know that this was the real porcelain child; and yet, somehow, everyone who saw her that day instinctively knew that she had to be! She was everything the Illuminator’s illustrations had promised. Every previous show had ended in disappointment; the puppet porcelain child being quite obviously another puppet, the actress being just another child rather than anything unusual or magical. But this porcelain child – why, it was just how they’d all imagined her, a child existing between two worlds!’
‘Surely,’ Carey blurted out unsurely, ‘surely he didn’t put his…well, his daughter on stage as a puppet?’
‘She was off stage, but yes, she was part of the show; as if, once again, she existed between two worlds! He didn’t have strings, making her move, if that’s what you mean!’
The Princess pulled a face, as if she also found such an idea distasteful.
‘And yet – afterwards, countless people would swear that they saw her move! That she smiled. Moved her eyes. Even gave a little wave.
‘As soon as the curtains had closed on her, her father walked through the ecstatically clapping crowd towards the gates of the walled tower. There was the most amazed gasp from the crowd as the gates opened – and he calmly walked inside, the gates instantly closing behind him.
‘He mounted the stairway outside. He entered the palace through the great doors. He almost froze in fear as the floor began to move beneath his feet. He stared in wonder at the rooms he was being swiftly carried through. And he almost wept in agonised disappointment once again when he found himself dropped off here, in the porcelain room!’
‘So this was already here, even then? Despite his skill with porcelain, he wasn’t the one who created it?’
‘Hah, wait; you’re jumping a little ahead of me, Carey. But what was he to think when he saw this fabulous room? What hope did he have of offering the Illuminator anything special when he already possessed such a wondrous room? He trembled with fear and dismay.
‘“I’m…I’m sorry,” he said nervously, intending to apologise for wasting the Illuminator’s time. But then he stood tall; despite his fear, despite having nothing to offer in return, he must still try to fulfil his promise to his wife and grant life to their daughter. “I know it’s such a ridiculously incredible thing to ask for, but–”
‘The Illuminator stopped him with the simple raising of a hand.
‘“I know why you’re here. And I know you think you have nothing you can offer me in return for granting your request.”
‘The girl’s father nodded miserably.
‘The Illuminator picked up a particularly ornate vase.
‘“Perhaps you could cast your expert eye over this beautiful piece…?”
‘Taking the piece, the man observed it curiously.
‘“Why, I think…think it looks surprisingly like one of mine, one I–”
‘“It is one of yours. Quite, quite remarkable; and I thank you for this room.”
‘Bewildered, the man stared around the room
‘“I never made so many pieces! And everything I made is outside, smashed beyond repair!”
‘“You made at least one of each – which was more than enough for me, for this room. I know what you intended to offer me; a whole room of porcelain, like this one. But you would have had to spend years creating it; and it would have been such a waste of your time, creating something I could so easily have created for me. Besides, it wouldn’t have been fair – as I can’t grant you what you want.”
‘“Then – there’s no hope for me or my daughter after all?” the man asked forlornly.
‘Once again, the poor man felt crushed by life. The Illuminator reached out to consolingly touch him on his shoulder.
‘“Please, think of what you were asking for; even if I could grant such a thing, how would it look that I granted only you this incredible favour? How many others would seek me out, demanding that I grant it to them too?”
‘The man nodded sadly, but managed a wry, understanding smile.
‘“Yes, yes; I should have realised.”
‘“There’s still the matter of payment, I believe?” The Illuminator indicated the room with a glance of his eyes and a flick of his fingers
‘“I don’t need payment – I just needed–”
‘“Unfortunately, although it may not be quite what you’d hoped for, the payment I have in mind will, I think, still be of interest to you; would you accept a semblance of life for your daughter? Such that she will talk, walk, move, see, hear, breath; but she will not yet be truly alive.”
‘“Yes, yes!” The man was suddenly overjoyed. “It’s more, I suppose, than I could have ever realistically hoped for!”
‘Of course, they both knew that this wasn’t entirely true; but they also recognised that this was an acceptable compromise for them both.
‘“It will also require something more of you, I’m afraid; a sacrifice on your part, but one that, if I’m being frank, you would have eventually made anyway, in the circumstances.”
‘“I’m not sure I understand.”
‘The Illuminator quietened the man’s worries with a smile and the slight raising of a hand.
‘“I will explain some more, of course, before you finally agree. But to help you come to terms with your sacrifice, I will enable you to initially grant this semblance of life to seven of your chosen creations!”’
‘Seven? Seven puppets?’ Carey was startled, abruptly recognising the connections. ‘Not just his daughter, but also six of his puppets? No, no! This is more than coincidence, this is–’
This is what? She wasn’t at all sure. Her head whirled. What was the Princess saying? The six puppets could only be her friends, couldn’t they?
The Princess was holding her firmly by the shoulders, as if she’d had to stop her falling over in a daze.
‘Carey, please, yes, you’re right; it’s not a coincidence, I’m afraid. I’m sorry, but…I’m going to have to disappoint you.’
She stepped back, deftly unbuttoning a small section of her bodice to reveal perfectly white porcelain underneath. Just as swiftly, she opened a tiny flap where her heart would be.
And just inside, a bright flame flickered above a small spirit reservoir.
*
Chapter 26
Carey ran from the room. She ran even though the moving floor was already carrying her along at a terrific rate.
She rushed down the staircase outside. Refusing to wait for the carriage, she ran towards the gates, even though they were closed. As she approached them, they opened however; and she sprinted out into the square.
Out in the square, surrounded by their little groups of admirers, her friends saw her running towards the caravan. Realising she was upset, they quickly excused themselves to their disappointed followers and ran after her.
‘What’s wrong?’ each of them said anxiously as they clambered into the confines of the caravan where everyone was swiftly gathering.
‘The Princess,’ Carey explained bitterly, almost tearfully, ‘isn’t really alive after all! Like you, she’s just kept alive by a flame!’
‘Oh, so this really is as good as it gets?’
Peregun said it in a way that was hard to interpret as either disappointment or contentment.
‘We do have a life that no other puppet can dream of; literally, in fact,’ Durndrin pointed out with a more definite sense of resignation.
‘We can’t complain I suppose, Carey.’
Grudo placed a consoling arm around Carey’s quivering shoulders. He wasn’t quite sure if she was shaking with anger or anguish.
‘We can complain if we spent all of our lives trying to find an answer to something that all turns out to be a mechanical trick!’ Carey spat out, raising her head with a hard expression of determination on her face, her eyes glaring with fury. ‘If we’d known the truth, we could have all saved ourselves an awful lot of trouble; and the false raising of hope!’
Grudo gave her a reassuring hug of the shoulders.
‘Carey, please; just calm down for a minute so we can work out what’s going on here. You were with the Princess for an awful lot longer than it takes her to show you her flame; so what else did she exactly say?’
‘She told me the story of The Porcelain Room.’
‘Ah, so it really is called that.’ Ferena couldn’t resist a smirk of satisfaction; she had frequently insisted that it seemed the most likely title to the second part of the series.
‘Yes; and we could have saved ourselves all this trouble if we’d only found that story ages ago! We’d also know that you and the Princess are, well; more or less brothers and sisters!’
‘Really?’ Neris was intrigued. ‘A sister of royalty? Does that make me a princess?’
She gave an elegant wave and twirl. But Dougy was troubled by this news.
‘Wait, wait; how are we brothers and sisters? I can’t remember there ever been anybody but us!’
‘Oh come on Dougy,’ Ferena chuckled. ‘It’s not like we’ve got the world’s greatest memories, have we?’
‘So who made us then?’ Durndrin frowned as his mind whirled. ‘If we’re sisters and brothers, you’re also saying, I suppose, that the girl’s father and mother in The Porcelain Child also made us, right?’
Carey gave a sharp nod of her head.
‘And that’s another shock for me, because all this time I’ve been reading that story without realising they must be my great grandparents or great-greats or what have you!’
‘Well that would explain how you and the Princess come to look so alike, like you told us,’ Ferena said. ‘Think about it; when the mother was creating her child, she’d be basing how she looked on some other girl in the family. It’s a family likeness; which means the Princess really is part of the family, I suppose.’
‘Hmn, but didn’t the father effectively remain childless, so how…’ Grudo, not wishing to upset Carey any further, twirled his huge hands, a sign that he wanted her to work out the rest of his thinking for herself.
‘Oh don’t be ridiculous, Grudo!’ Neris chided him. ‘Obviously, he must have remarried!’
‘He didn’t seem the remarrying kind to me,’ Grudo sniffed.
Carey placed a comforting hand on Grudo’s huge arm.
‘I know what you mean Grudo; but just how lonely and hurt would he have been after giving up his daughter–’
‘He gave up his daughter?’ Peregun was aghast.
‘Well, the Princess avoided mentioning it herself,’ Carey admitted. ‘But think about it; she’s here, isn’t she? And she did say that part of the Illuminator’s deal for giving her some sort of life involved her father making a sacrifice. The Illuminator needed the Princess to stop everyone fearing the Fading. In return, that’s how you all came to be alive; my great granddad or whoever he was could give life to seven of you, including his daughter.’
‘Bit of a rough deal,’ Neris pouted. ‘Sure, she gets some sort of life, but she has to hang around forever in a more or less empty palace with the weird guy who tricked her father.’
‘It’s not easy to see who it was hardest on; her father or her?’ Ferena wiped away a tear.
‘She wouldn’t really know her father, I suppose.’ Durndrin didn’t look like he actually believed what he was saying. ‘I mean, she’d only be aware of what was happening once she came to life, so she wouldn’t have had time to get to know him.’
‘Ah, but in the story,’ Carey said, remembering another part of it, ‘her father seems to think that he sees signs of life in her before they arrive in the kingdom. Then again, he’s not sure if he’s just imagining it; and as he agreed to the Illuminator’s harsh deal, he must have finally decided it was all in his mind.’
‘If this way was the only way for her to gain her life, what choice did either of them really have?’ Ferena was struggling to stop herself from weeping.
‘And none of us – well, Carey excepted, of course – would be here if they hadn’t both made their sacrifice!’ Even Peregun looked serious and thoughtful.
Carey, too, had begun to recognise the enormity of the Princess’s sacrifice. Suddenly, however, she scowled as something dawned on her.
‘But in her speech, when she first arrives here, the Princess definitely says she’s alive!’
‘Ah, you mean in The Porcelain Kingdom?’ There was a slight hint of irony in Grudo’s comment. ‘In the story?’
Carey recognise
d Grudo’s cynical, wry raising of his eyebrows.
‘You’re saying – saying that might not have been her real speech?’
‘Who could remember her exact words? Besides, we know the whole aim of the Illuminator was to allay fear of the Fading.’
Carey bit her lip.
‘But I so wanted to believe!’
She looked around at everyone, her eyes full of apology and hurt.
‘I should have known it was impossible! I’m such a fool!’
She looked up at Grudo, reaching out for and taking a grip of one of his huge hands.
‘You were right; and I was wrong!’
‘No no, Carey, you were right to wish for the best for us.’
Caressing her hand, Grudo stared out of the open doorway, looking up towards and glaring bitterly at the looming tower.
‘It’s the Illuminator who’s done us all wrong!’
*
Chapter 27
The Glorious Pattern of The Kimono
It is said that not long after chaos had been banished from the universe by a semblance of order imposed in its place, the threads of life were used to weave a fabulous kimono that could reveal the future to anyone who asked its wearer a reasonable question.
Whatever the truth of this, it is known that a family who had produced generations of wise women claimed to have possessed this kimono for at least a thousand years, and it was through the remarkable powers of this fabulous object that they themselves received their skills of prophesy. Of course, many doubted the truth of this claim, citing as reason for their cynicism the meagre living standards of the women, for they lived in little more than a tumbledown shack on the farthest edges of the empire.
The High Emperor himself was of this opinion, until he heard from a traveller and historian of great repute that he had seen this kimono for himself. Moreover, the traveller’s own image had appeared within the kimono’s pattern, and was now featured there amongst a whole host of important people who had visited the wise woman.
‘A famous astrologer, who asked as to the real nature of the planets, was surrounded by the swirls of a most wondrous cosmos,’ he reverently assured the High Emperor. ‘A warlord who pleaded for help in restoring peace to his region was portrayed in a circle of enjoined hands, while an artist who had requested the secret of granting a semblance of realism to her sculptures is herself rendered on the kimono as if about to leap forth from the embroidery. The greater the man or woman, the greater his or her image appears in the pattern.’
