Midnight in Everwood(28)

Small gingerbread huts perched on the marzipan cobblestones, with iced roofs and windows through which wondrous items and confectionery were being sold. Marietta wandered by, her heart full of that childlike wonder that leads young ones to await Father Christmas’s sleigh and stockings filled with sweets and toys by that nocturnal visitor, garbed in green. She wished she had never lost her belief in magic. Never set it aside when she grew older and it was no longer charming for her to still hold such beliefs. Perhaps then she might have trusted her instincts.

One hut offered molten chocolate in peppermint bowls; another, pale-pink sugar mice that squeaked once tasted; yet another, working gingerbread trains that chugged along candy cane tracks. And then there were the huts that whispered of grander shades of magic. The ones which sold keys in an assortment of shapes and sizes, vowing entry to the world of your choice. Silvered sleigh bells promised to ring the instant someone fell in love with you. Snow globes that revealed the viewer’s heart-dreams like a window cut into their souls. Marietta frowned and stole closer to examine one when a voice sent her thoughts spiralling.

A woman was leaning her elbows on the window of her hut, watching Marietta. She was almost concealed from sight by a plethora of dangling snow boots and a counter stacked with tiny peppermint fir trees, dipped in chocolate dark as night. She spoke in a curious tongue that Marietta was glad to find she could understand once she’d puzzled through the nuances of her accent.

‘From whence did you originate?’

Marietta hesitated.

The woman laughed, dissolving her eyes into a sea of crinkled parchment. ‘Alas, do not fret. We greet plenty of wanderers each moontide.’ She had the tiniest button of a nose, yet despite her easy laugh, her eyes remained cold.

Marietta kept a firm hand on her wits. ‘Might I inquire as to where I am?’

‘Why, you have discovered the delights of Everwood, of course. A land of ice and sugar, enchanted beyond measure. From which door did you seek entry?’

‘Do you mean to inform me that there are more worlds than mine and yours?’ Marietta’s mind whirred and ticked faster at the very notion.

The woman gave another hearty laugh. ‘There are many more than you or I could even guess at. Some are miniscule, entire universes in a space the size of a teacup. Others are grander than you could imagine. Though you must never forget, you yourself change to suit each one. The moment you stepped into Everwood, you were granted the ability to speak and understand our tongue. Other changes bear lasting consequences. My son once found himself made of wood in a land of puppets. He took haste to leave that one.’ Her eyes glazed over as she peered into her own memory. ‘Though his left knee still bears a stiff creak on a frozen day.’

Marietta’s head was set a-whirling, as if she’d been spinning in fouettés. ‘Oh dear,’ she managed.

‘Though in Everwood we’re well used to wanderers, of course. Lost souls have a habit of finding themselves here. It is always a little overwhelming at first, but my best advice to you would be to leave.’

Marietta was certain she had misheard. ‘I beg your pardon?’

The woman shrugged. ‘It’s a fine idea to have a taste of another world, a morsel to remember in future years when you’ve silvered and the stars are calling for you, but unfamiliar dangers cut the deepest.’ The smile melted from her face, her grey, lined eyes haggard in its absence. She nodded at the palace towering above the town, her voice whisper-soft. ‘I suggest you leave before you attract their attention.’

Marietta looked at the palace. Its peak punctured the star-speckled sky.

The woman retreated into her tangle of wares before reappearing with a pair of boots. She set them down on the gingerbread counter. The colour of fresh white wool, they were equipped with thick soles. ‘You have such strange shoes in your world.’ She cast a look at Marietta’s pointe shoes. ‘Mighty pretty but once the snow has invited itself onto your flesh, it won’t be long before you find yourself suffering from ice fever.’

Marietta resisted the urge to wrap her arms about herself. It was all she could do to keep her teeth from clattering together. She held her chin high and met the woman’s eyes. ‘They are perfectly lovely. Though I regret I’m not carrying any currency with me.’ Shame engulfed her in a sticky burst.

‘Your kind never do.’ The woman’s voice sharpened. ‘I would be happy to exchange them for the trinket adorning your hair.’ She pointed at the pearl comb Marietta still wore.

Marietta closed her fingers around it, considering. Her toes had grown numb in the bitter conditions and she feared frostbite. Yet the comb was laced with cultured Akoya pearls and worth far more than the trade the woman had offered. ‘I’m afraid this is rather dear to me as it was a gift from my mother,’ she hedged.

The woman softened. ‘How about that then?’ She nodded at the satin sash looping Marietta’s waist. ‘Or if you exchange those—’ she pointed at Marietta’s gold earrings ‘—I shall add this into the bargain.’ She bent beneath the counter and emerged with a cape in richest emerald, trimmed with gold. It looked thick and warm and Marietta felt the cold more keenly at the sight of it.

‘Very well.’ Marietta unfastened her earrings.

The woman seized them at once, her eyes agleam. ‘There’s always a pretty price to be fetched for a wanderer’s wares. That manner of crossing holds a magic all of its own.’ She slid the snow boots over to Marietta.