The Kingdom of Back(27)

“Are you afraid?” I asked Woferl.

His small shoulders trembled. “No,” he lied. “Where do you think the path will lead?”

“Well, I can’t be sure,” I said, trying to keep him calm. “It is your turn to tell me a story, remember? Tell me, where would you want this path to lead?”

Woferl smiled. “To the shore!” he exclaimed in a hushed voice. “To the white sand and warm ocean.”

As he spoke, pinpoints of light caught my attention. They flitted from tree to tree, clusters that glowed blue, the same tiny faeries that had appeared in our music room on the first night. With them came the curious sensation that Hyacinth must be near. Sure enough, one of the lights came to rest in my hand. It felt like a feather.

This way, it cried. This way.

And with their light and that of the two moons, our path was illuminated just enough for us to see it winding deeper into the woods.

We walked for a very long time, until the forest grew darker and darker, and the trees grew closer and closer together. I wondered if perhaps we had missed a trail that could have branched away, that Hyacinth may have gone a different direction. The tiny faeries had faded away too, leaving us wandering alone through a colorless world.

Finally, when I was ready to turn back, the darkness of the forest began to fade and I saw what seemed like a strange blue light appear on the tree trunks. “Do you see that, Woferl?” I said to him. “Maybe we’re almost there.” He didn’t answer. It was just as well—I did not want him to ask me again whether or not I knew where this path could lead.

The end to the forest was so abrupt that I stumbled on my slippers. The last of the upside-down trees now stood beside us, and in front of us stretched a shore of white sand that hugged the edge of a deep sapphire ocean, its color interrupted by two perfect silver reflections of the moons.

I caught my breath at the sight of it. This was the ocean from my very first dream.

Dozens of blue seashells lay winking against the white sand. Woferl noticed me admiring their color and, on impulse, picked one up and shoved it into his pocket.

Hyacinth was waiting at the edge of the water. Tonight, he looked more like a boy than ever, his tall, slender frame covered with skeleton leaves, his hair rumpled. His eyes reflected the ocean. “Are you cold?” he asked me.

I shook my head. The winter chill that had clung to us on the Getreidegasse and the dark forest path did not exist here, and the ocean’s water lay as still and flat as a mirror’s surface.

“Good.” The princeling nodded at us. “I have a task for you both.”

“What is it?” I asked.

Hyacinth gave me a sidelong smile and gestured toward the water. “I need a night flower,” he replied. “You can find them at the bottom of this ocean, inside a hidden cave. I’m unable to get there myself. You see, I cannot swim well.”

“These flowers grow inside an underwater cave?” I said.

“Yes,” he replied. “This cave is a lovely grotto, and inside lives an old witch, with wrinkled hands and long white hair. I sealed her in the cave long ago with the rising waters, and she has remained there ever since. She has stayed there for so long, in fact, that her feet have become part of the cavern floor. She cannot move from her spot, and her powers, although terrible, weaken when the twin moons are not aligned. Still, you must be careful. She can call great golden fire with her hands and engulf you with its flames. She feeds on the night flowers that grow along the cave walls, and anything else she manages to reach.”

Woferl’s vision of a guardian for the ocean, I thought. A sudden sadness filled my heart. “She must be very lonely,” I said.

Hyacinth turned his eyes to me. “Do not take pity on her. She will try to lure you to her with a sweet song, the most beautiful music you’ve ever heard in your life, so potent that sometimes sailors can hear it across many oceans. They call her the Queen of the Night.” He stepped closer to us. “Do not approach her. Do not look into her eyes. Do not talk to her. She is not what she seems.”

I swallowed, distracted by his nearness, and promised that we would not.

He turned away from us and pointed out toward the still waters. Not far from the shore lay a series of rock formations, carved from limestone, and when I looked from a different angle, the moonlight washed them into silver.

“The grotto lies under the water, in those rocks,” he said. “The waters are low right now, so you and your brother will have a bit of time to get the flower. Do not be fooled by this peaceful ocean. It will rise so steadily that you will not realize it until it’s too late.”

Woferl listened with a determined look on his face. “We are very brave,” he said, looking up at me. “I’m not afraid.”

The princeling smiled at him. “You are indeed very brave,” he replied, and looked back toward the rocks. “It’s why I’ve chosen you both for this task. Now, you must hurry.”

I did not feel brave, but Hyacinth looked so calm, and Woferl so eager, that I nodded and started toward the water. The echo of applause from my performance in Vienna, the look of pride on my father’s face . . . they came back to me now, filling me with the memory of joy. I had told Hyacinth I was ready, and so I was. My mind lingered on the night flower that we needed to retrieve.

I removed my slippers. Then I waded carefully in, holding my breath in anticipation of cold ocean water. But the instant we dipped our feet into it, I realized that it was as warm as a bath, just as Woferl had said. I smiled in surprise. Woferl let out a giggle at the warmth and splashed right into it, getting water all over my nightgown. I looked back to the shore once we’d gone in waist-deep. Hyacinth watched us from where he had sat down in the sand, his stiltlike legs crossed over each other.