Midnight in Everwood(29)



Sliding off her pointe shoes and the padding ensconcing her toes was a delicious relief. The snow boots were lined with a thick fluffy material that Marietta held no words for, as comfortable as treading upon the softest carpet. After fastening the cape round her shoulders, the chill lessened. She tied the ribbons of her ballet shoes together, draped them round her neck and thanked the woman.

She flapped a hand at Marietta. ‘Yes, yes, much obliged I’m sure. Now you must leave at once. The frozen sugar palace might look a delight to set your mouth a-watering but unspeakable cruelties have poisoned those candied halls.’

Marietta glanced once more at the distant palace. ‘Is it truly made of frozen sugar?’

‘Yes. Made by the Grand Confectioner himself. It’s a mastery of craft all confectioners in Sugar Alley aspire to. And cold enough to strip the skin from your bones.’

Marietta heeded her words and traced her path back. She had dwelt long enough in this peculiar place; Drosselmeier must have returned to the Christmas celebrations by now. Once Frederick heard of his unwanted advances, she hoped he would be cast from the townhouse. Still, she had a twinge of regret that she couldn’t stay and discover more of this enchanting place. Her walk slowed as she absorbed the scenes around her. Pillowy rolls baked in the shape of snowmen, the aroma reminiscent of bakeries she’d patronised in Paris. Snowflakes fashioned into jewellery, velvet mittens scented with vanilla. A vat of popcorn emitting curlicues of caramelised steam as the seller shovelled it into twists of paper. A large stall, grander than all, sold nothing but small glass vials of shimmering blue-green. Its sign advertised them as melting enchantments. As Marietta passed by, the sellers closed their gabled windows to the protests of the long queue outside.

When she took a wrong turn and found herself confronted with a stable, she halted. Miniature reindeer cavorted about, fluffy with stubby legs and antlers strung with tiny golden bells that jangled sweetly. Their formed antlers marked them as full grown yet they reached just the height of Marietta’s knee. She smiled before tearing herself away to cross the frozen river.

The lights and bustle of the town receded. Marietta trudged through the snow slower and slower, the cold permeating her bones. The fir trees closed behind her, enfolding her in their silence once more. Her fear of Drosselmeier fluttered anew, alongside a fresh worry; being preoccupied with fleeing him, she had failed to look back to take note of what the entrance to this world had looked like and she very much doubted she would happen to find the grandfather clock on a mound of snow to mark it. What if Drosselmeier’s plan was more nefarious than she had accounted for and she was destined to be trapped in this world? Her confusion settled deeper; she could not understand why he had sent her into such a delightful town.

She walked and walked until she was certain she had been walking further than she remembered. Worry edged into panic, needling her with its barbs. In each direction she turned, she faced giant firs and heaps of glittering snow. Nothing distinctive marked her path, no music or light could be gleaned from any which way she faced. It was all endless, silent forest. And once she had turned, she found she couldn’t recall the initial direction she had been headed for. It was possible she had twisted her route and was none the wiser. Perhaps Drosselmeier had never intended her to reach the darling town. Perhaps he only knew of this forest.

Her breath a feathered plume, she buried her hands in the pockets of her cape. Something crinkled against her fingertips. Marietta frowned and pulled it out. It was a note, written on a scrap of parchment and wrapped around a small sachet. It proclaimed itself as:

Shrinking dust.

Apply a fingertip’s worth to shrink any part of yourself you desire.

Marietta thought of the woman’s tiny nose and wondered if she’d added it on purpose. She shook the thought away; with a woman driving such a hard bargain as she, it was sure to simply have been forgotten in the pocket. She tucked the sachet into her dress pocket, sank her hands into the velvety depths of her cloak, and continued her slow, trudging progress through this frostbitten world.

Staring up at the unrecognisable stars, she noticed they were brighter and more numerous than the constellations on Earth. The realisation struck her with the force of confronting something bigger than a mortal mind could comprehend, that of being immersed in a world other than hers. She kept walking, deeper into the silence. She grew colder and colder and colder.

Suddenly, a whisper curled her senses with fear.





Chapter Fifteen


Marietta grasped her pointe shoes; the box inside them was hard and would suffice as a make-shift weapon. She turned to see … nothing. Perhaps she had imagined it, a trick of the cold or a symptom of overexposure.

A second whisper hissed through the air.

‘Show yourself,’ she demanded.

It fell silent. Marietta began to feel most peculiar. As if she was being watched. Not trusting whatever strange creature might be stalking her through the forest, Marietta ran. The star-dappled snow lit her way through the firs. Yet each tree she passed seemed to darken with shadows. She slowed, watching them closely. The forest was filled with wild and twisting shadows. The air around her felt tighter, as if she had inhaled one and now it ensnared her lungs, grasping tendrils wrapping around her, suffocating her from within. She whirled around, breathing harder. And yet, the more she stared at them, the harder they were to discern. They were an ephemeral substance, nothing but wisps of smoke dragged together with malice cobwebbed across them.

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