18. Chapter 18
18
BEATRICE
“Are you finished?” I asked.
Win was at my side in a moment, wiping her mouth with one grimy sleeve. “I am now!”
Since we were obviously supposed to follow the light, I led the way. Earlier, in my first wonder at the magnificence of the Great Hall, I’d paid little attention to what lay in shadow at its distant far end. Now, as we left the dining hall, the light drew us toward a truly magnificent staircase.
On either side of the steps, intricately carved handrails rested upon marble bases that rose from the ground floor to the first-floor landing, then curved around to follow the banisters up to yet another floor. The balusters also appeared to be marble, and . . .
Had I seen something like this before? My brain was too fatigued to sort out when or where. After all, I’d seen dozens of palaces and castles and great houses while accompanying Eddi on social occasions. I slid my hand up the cool stone of the banister to the first floor, then followed the lights to our right. When two doors opened along the hall ahead, inviting us with warmth and welcome while the hall lights dimmed, I stopped outside the first doorway, feeling ready to drop.
Winifred took a peek, then rushed inside. “This one’s mine. You can have the next one.”
I nodded, rousing enough to peer past her. A fire crackled on the hearth of a spacious room decorated in pale green and gold. Despite its opulence, the chamber had a homey feel about it. Or maybe I simply felt safe because I knew the Gamekeeper was nearby.
Winifred returned to close the door, blocking my view with her body. “Maybe the Beast can’t enter the palace? Guess we’ll find out. Don’t forget to turn your egg.” The door shut in my face with a heavy thunk.
Well. If Miss Paranoid wasn’t worried, I certainly wouldn’t turn up my nose at a good night’s sleep. I was so beat that the next door looked miles away. But as soon as I stepped into the room, a sense of deja vous stopped me in my tracks, and I was wide awake.
By flickering firelight, the bed curtains glowed a deep gold and blue with richly colored embroidered designs. Everything coordinated, even the wallpaper and rugs. I had never been offered such luxurious accommodation during all my travels with Eddi.
I almost expected Geneva and Hortense to show up.
Some kind soul had turned down the bedclothes for me, but I was far too grimy to even touch that bed. I gently shifted my sleepy egg from its dusty wrappings onto the satin counterpane, then dug through the wardrobe full of gorgeous garments and selected a fluffy wrap of some kind. “Look! It’s feathers. Just for you.” After tucking it around her, I slid the bundle into the center of the bed so it couldn’t possibly roll off. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, little chicky.”
I knew that if I tried to sleep, I would fret all night, wondering why and how the Gamekeeper came to be in the Forbidden Palace. The warmth of his greeting had refueled my courage. If necessary, I would search the entire palace. “But I need something clean and practical to wear,” I muttered. On the off chance it might contain something practical, I searched the bureau drawers. Bingo!
Minutes later, clad in a flannel shirt, corduroy trousers, and old-fashioned house shoes, I stepped into the hallway. It felt so good to be out of that snowsuit!
“I know you’re here somewhere,” I muttered. A sconce further along the hall glimmered to life, then one beyond it. “Oh! Um. Would you help me find the Gamekeeper?”
The sconces blinked, and another one lit up. “Okay. Thank you.” Hoping for the best, I followed various light fixtures and lamps as they obligingly led me along the corridor, around a few corners, and up a spiral stair to a lighted room. Its door stood ajar, so I peered inside at what appeared to be a study with bookshelves lining the walls—the light came from a small fire on the hearth. I knocked gently at the door. “Hello? Gamekeeper?”
“You may enter, Beatrice.”
The act of stepping through that door was more difficult than I’d anticipated. His shadowy presence felt at once familiar and foreign, comforting and disturbing. “Hello.” I did my best to seem at ease, but my voice sounded overly bright even to me. “Am I intruding?” I took a step back toward the doorway before I realized what I was doing.
“Not at all. Please feel free to sit down. I hope you and your young companion find your rooms comfortable?”
So . . . this palace was his home? He sounded hospitable but impersonal. Had I imagined his pleasure when he spoke to me in the dining room?
“Oh, yes. Quite comfortable,” I answered quickly, dropping into an armchair.
He sat in the highbacked chair behind the desk and released a sigh that reminded me of his great size. “Good. The servants are eager to please, and they will respect your privacy.”
Servants. Someone or something had to be working the lights, but the idea of silent invisible people observing me everywhere I might go was disturbing.
I drew a quick breath, working up my courage. “I’m here to . . . I mean, I came to meet you . . .” Something terribly like a sob tightened my chest, and I fell silent.
After a moment, he spoke in his familiar gentle tone. “I imagine you would like an explanation.”
“Yes.” It was a starting point.
“What do you wish to know?”
“This sounds crazy, I’m sure, but Win swears that a griffin told her we would be trapped forever if we came here and that a terrible Beast prowling the palace grounds will kill and eat us just for trespassing.” Once I got started, the words poured out.
“Ah. Please set your mind at ease. While I live, you, your young friend, and the eggs are safe here in the Forbidden Lands. Under normal conditions, the magical barriers allow friendly people and creatures to cross its borders at will, but an enemy who sneaks into my land will be unable to leave. Unfortunately, the barrier surrounding the Forbidden Lands, which includes this palace and the refuge I provide for endangered magical creatures, is currently compromised. I am trapped here.”
“But . . . but who could trap you? My grandaunt, who is some kind of enchantress, told me that you are the Trollkarl, the most powerful enchanter in the world.”
“Being Trollkarl does not make me invincible—it is nothing more than a title. And some of my colleagues on the World Magic Council have betrayed not only my trust but the entire world’s.”
“Oh.” I blinked, trying to remember what Auntie had told me. “Oh! The Mirror? The one Raquel Cambout used to attack Eddi? I mean, is that what they’re using against you? To control people and creatures?”
I saw him nod. “Yes. Many of the creatures attacking Faraway Castle are under the Mirror’s thrall. And I suspect that Mirka, the mother of your griffin eggs, was coerced by the Mirror of Alviss into revealing vital information about the borders of Faraway Castle and the Forbidden Grounds.” After a pause, he inquired, “How did you, Win, and the eggs come to be here?” he asked.
“On Christmas night, Auntie sent me to Faraway Castle. I thought we were there for a holiday, but then she sent me to a cave with orders to escort Win and the griffin eggs to the Forbidden Palace.”
“She sent you to the cave?” He sounded appalled. “Vlad and Mirka’s nesting cave?”
“You weren’t expecting us?”
“I had no idea . . . I was most pleasantly surprised when you appeared here . . . but . . . How did you get here from there?”
“You didn’t know we were coming?”
“Please tell me how you . . . how you . . . Just how!” His voice held deep concern and bewilderment.
So, I told him, even the part where Win twice tried to lose me in the tunnel, and I sensed his rising anger. I saw no reason to share my dream of Niel—it was only a dream, after all—but as soon as I ended my tale in the wine cellar, he launched out of his chair and paced into a corner where two bookshelves met.
His gloved hands gripped the top of the shelves, his head bowed, and suppressed wrath radiated from him. Oddly enough, I could see him clearly in the low firelight—broadcloth stretched over powerful shoulders, a messy mane of hair, the braced stance of his long legs. Yet magic blurred him around the edges. Was he human or not?
“If I’d only known . . .” he growled. “Beatrice, you could have been . . .” He huffed in frustration and . . . fear? “Never, ever turn your back on that girl.”
For a moment, I doubted this could really be my Gamekeeper, who was unruffled, gentle, and always in control. But it was him, just a side of him I hadn’t seen until . . . well, until I refused his proposal.
“I won’t turn my back on her,” I assured him.
“Where is your egg now?” When he turned to face me, something like fog obscured him again.
“On my bed. She seemed quiet and sleepy.”
“When you arrived, she told me how hard she’d worked to guide you here, but I had no idea . . .”
“She spoke to you?”
“Yes.” He sounded more like himself. “She told me that she’s claimed you as her mother. It is truly a great honor, Beatrice. The Golden Griffin is a creature of legend!”
Baby Chicky, a creature of legends? My brain struggled to wrap around that concept. “To me, she’s a motherless baby who needs love and care.”
“Which is why she chose you as her protector.”
“I feel responsible for Win, too,” I admitted. “I know better than to trust her, but she can’t be older than fourteen. The poor kid was basically kidnapped by griffins and held captive for months. I can’t even imagine!”
“I know Vlad and Mirka,” he said in that calm, gruff voice I loved. “They’ve raised many clutches of eggs in their nest on the border of my lands.”
While I shuddered again at the memory of that cliffside cave, he seemed to mull over a problem. “Griffins are intensely private creatures. They possess magic of a sort, but I’ve never heard of an egg telepathically communicating with a human.”
“And what about Winifred?” I reminded him. “I don’t understand why she would try to trap me in the caves. I could have died there in the darkness!”
His reply was gruff: “Have you asked her why?”
“Not directly. At least, I don’t think so. If I did ask, she didn’t answer me. What should I do?”
After a pause, he said, “What do you think you should do?”
Ugh. I was too tired to think, but I did my best. “I guess I need to work on earning Win’s trust and stop reacting to her insults. Do you think I should give back the gold egg?”
“Definitely not. It . . .” He paused and corrected himself. “She, the griflet, is extraordinarily precocious, and I believe she has formed an emotional bond with you through touch and thought. Separation from you now would cause her great emotional and psychological harm. She needs you.”
“Oh!” When maternal warmth washed through me, along with an awareness of my egg’s exact location in the castle, I knew he’d correctly judged the situation. “I . . . I think I need her too.” Then I remembered her gentle brother. “What about the silver egg?”
“Have you touched its shell?”
“Yes. He’s very sweet. Win has been touching his shell too, and he seems content with her.”
“Good. Both griffins are likely to hatch in the next few days, so you would be wise to sleep while you still can. Morning will be soon enough to make further plans. I hope you are comfortable and feel safe in your guest room.”
I huffed a little laugh. “Now that I know you’re here, I will sleep well. Winifred is another story.”
“Ah. Winifred senses the Beast of her own nightmares.” I heard a note of sorrow in that deep voice. “Your trust in me is a precious gift which I shall always strive to deserve.”
I shook my head. “You and I have been friends for years now, and I know you’re a kind and humble person.” Just when I needed to keep it together and prove my loyalty as his friend, I would get all choked up and sentimental.
But when he spoke again, a chill ran down my spine. “Ah, but I was once proud and devious, heeding only my personal desires and ambitions.”
Even as I shivered, I disliked hearing his self-disparagement. “You’ve only ever been encouraging and kind to me. And patient and wise! The best friend I’ve ever had.”
“Oh, Beatrice, I love you dearly.” Velvety warmth blended with something like a growl. “Will you marry me?”
Darkness seemed to drop over me, and I blurted, “No, I cannot!”
The next thing I knew, I stood just inside the door of my guest room, my mind and heart in turmoil. Through a film of tears, I saw shimmering light and recognized my gold egg. Immediately, my racing heart slowed. With a relieved sigh, I climbed onto the bed and gently stroked her shell. “I’m so glad you’re here,” I whispered.
Sparkles like miniature fireworks followed my touch. Chicky love Beeetrice.
“Chicky?”
Beeetrice name Chicky.
“I did?” Realization dawned. “Oh. I’ve been calling you Chicky, haven’t I? Well, the name suits you. You are my sweet little Chicky.” Somehow, the company of a not-yet-hatched baby griffin was exactly what I needed. “I’ll be back soon. I need to wash and dress for bed.”
Chicky was asleep before I reached the bathroom, which was old-fashioned yet pristine, again reminding me of the one in Niel’s palace . . . but one historic palace is much like another. Anyway, this place must have a library, and with any luck it would supply me with information about griffins. I really should have asked the Gamekeeper about that.
It wasn’t easy to hurry through my bath, but if I hadn’t, I’d likely have drowned in my sleep. The towels were like warm clouds. After stinking for the past few days, or however long it’d been, I couldn’t resist slathering on some gorgeously scented body oil. And the frothy negligee and satin nightie draped over a gilded chair . . . well . . . They fit perfectly. My wet hair combed out easily, and I wove it into a thick braid.
Everything I’d seen and done since Auntie sent me to Faraway Castle felt like a dream. Well, Winifred was more like a nightmare, but the eggs were lovely. Niel was a fantasy I could only wish to be true.
And the Gamekeeper? I simply did not know what to think, so I didn’t.
I folded down the duvet and climbed into bed, gave my egg a quarter-turn, then pulled her close again, feeling her delight. I couldn’t possibly have been more comfortable.
Chicky hatch soon.
“You . . . you will?” I mumbled, not entirely certain the voice in my head wasn’t another dream.
Her shell swirled and shimmered with anticipation and, just like that, she was asleep again.
I sat bolt upright in bed, blinking and disoriented. What was that noise?
Silence. Chicky slept soundly amid the fluffy white feathers of the . . . Was it a stole or a boa? I sensed no servants nearby. But a fire crackled on the hearth, so at least one maid must have come.
I yawned, gave my head a shake, and only then realized that light filled the room. Someone had opened my bed curtains and the window draperies. Just as I moved to climb out of bed, a shriek shattered the peace, followed by a thump, a bang, pounding footsteps in the hallway, and the rattle of my doorknob. “Beatrice!” Win battered the door. “He’s hatching! He’s hatching!”
As soon as my feet hit the floor, I snatched up the lace negligee and flung it on over my nightgown, then hurried to admit her. Wild-eyed, wild-haired, and yammering “Whaddoo I do? Oh, help!” Win thrust her unwrapped egg into my bare arms. At my touch, its soft glow flared into silvery spots and swirls of light.
Wow! Her egg seemed to have doubled in size and weight overnight, and its shell was hard, not rubbery anymore. I cradled it in the crook of my arm and felt the baby inside shift his position, trying to nestle against me. He was more introverted than his sister, but he seemed to crave my wordless affection . . . and he returned it.
“Why do you think he’s hatching?” I asked.
Win pointed at a jagged black line on the shell. “He’s been doing that!”
“Oh!” I sensed the little guy’s determination and excitement, although he was tired. After all, he was just a baby. “It’ll probably take hours for him to break his way out.” I yawned before I thought to cover my gaping mouth, which I couldn’t have done anyway, since my arms were full of griffin egg. “Excuse me!”
“Whatever,” Win snapped. “This is terrible! Mirka will kill us if the Beast doesn’t eat us first. There’s no way we’re gonna walk away from this mess.”
“Who knows what might happen in the next few days? I talked with the Gamekeeper last night, and I’m sure he’ll know what to do, how to help the eggs hatch and all.”
“Why talk with a gamekeeper? I’ll take care of the eggs. It’s my job.”
I gave her an incredulous look, but she was serious. “You don’t know? The Gamekeeper is the guardian of Faraway Castle, but somehow he’s trapped here in the Forbidden Palace. He knows Vlad and Mirka, and I’m sure he’ll know how to help the baby griffins.”
Emotions I couldn’t begin to interpret flickered across Winifred’s pallid face.
“He is kind and very powerful,” I added.
“Good to know.” Her tone was flat. Then she raised a brow at my skimpy attire. “You might want to change into actual clothes before you ask this gamekeeper for help.”
Heat flooded my face. “This is what the servants left out for me.” I tardily noticed her flannel pajamas and woolly robe. “I have no idea why.”
She rolled her eyes, reaching for her egg. “Servants? This place is enchanted to answer our wishes, that’s all. You want frou-frou, you get frou-frou.”
My first urge was to defend myself, but I swallowed the words as I carefully transferred the silver egg into her arms. “You should wash thoroughly—your hair too— before your egg hatches. Cleanliness is important during births.”
She stepped into the corridor without acknowledging my advice but turned back to say, “You’d better check the gold egg. It might be hatching too. Oh, and mine’s name is Dodger.”
She shut the door with a click, so I was free to grin. She’d named him! Good for Dodger! Maybe Winifred did have a heart.
First thing, courtesy of the bureau, I changed into practical trousers and a plaid flannel shirt that brought out the green in my eyes. Then, curious, I moved to the nearest window. The palace had to be located on a hillside, because the ground below dropped away in levels much like the terraced gardens at Faraway Castle but dotted with boulders. A lake shimmered in the distance. Beyond it I saw green forest, meadows, and several more lakes and ponds. Clouds covered the tallest of the ice-tipped mountain peaks encircling the valley, yet sunlight filtered through, highlighting a few outbuildings on the slope beneath my window, and what might have been a vegetable garden. Here and there I saw more manmade structures. Houses? Maybe stables? And everywhere in between, flower gardens glowed with life and color.
In midwinter.
In the mountains.
It was only possible with magic. Scads of magic to maintain such a gloriously impossible oasis. The blooms and the warm weather were the Gamekeeper’s work—I recognized his magic everywhere I looked. So how could he be trapped here?
That was a question for another day. Today was hatching day. Or so I hoped.
In a conversational tone, I spoke aloud: “Gamekeeper, one of the eggs is hatching, and we don’t know what to do. Will you help us?”