The Kingdom of Back(59)

I rose and swung my legs over the side of the bed, careful not to disturb my brother. The floor felt like ice beneath my bare feet. I trembled, hugging my elbows in a pathetic embrace. A strange, silver light—too eerie to be moonlight—spilled in from the crack beneath the door and washed the floor white.

I reached the door and turned the knob. Earlier in the night, when Papa had stepped through it and pulled the latch closed, the door had moaned and groaned like a living thing. Now it swung open without a sound. I made my way along the hall and then down the steps, counting the slices of light and darkness that I passed through.

Hyacinth was waiting for me there, at the bottom of the stairs.

His mouth split his face open with rows of knifelike white teeth. Muscles bulged on his neck and chest. He beckoned me closer. Suddenly, I wanted to run from him, back upstairs and into my bed, and tell Woferl what had happened. But my brother was no longer my friend.

Hyacinth, sensing my fear, touched the tip of my chin with his hand. “Tell me, Fr?ulein,” he whispered. “When did you last see the Kingdom of Back?”

“At the tower,” I whispered. “With Woferl.”

He regarded me with a careful look. “Yes,” he said. “We had a little falling-out then, if I recall correctly.”

I swallowed hard, wondering whether I had angered him again.

But he simply smiled at me. “You may notice that several things have changed in the kingdom since your last visit. After all, a great deal has happened to you in your world, hasn’t it?” He gestured around at the streets of Lille, as if to emphasize his point.

“What shall I do?” I asked him.

“Close your eyes, Fr?ulein,” he replied.

I hesitated, then obeyed.

“Now open them,” he continued. “And follow me.”

When I did, Lille had vanished. In its place stood a forest I did not recognize, under the light of twin moons that now nearly touched each other. The trees were completely black, as if painted with buckets of ink. Their branches reached down toward the ground in the shape of gnarled hands, and their roots tore up from the earth in agonized arches. They grew in torturous rows, each fighting with the next for the bit of space they had.

Above us, the sky hovered low and scarlet and furious.

“Why have the trees changed?” I said, stammering.

“You have changed,” Hyacinth replied. He leaned close to me to study my face. “Ah, so you’ve grown fond of this place. You feared it once, and now you ache for it to return. You always want what you cannot have, Fr?ulein.”

He led me down the crooked forest path, the dirt now black like the trees, the lopsided signpost now unreadable from decay. The cobblestones were cracked and covered with ash. The snow piled along the edges black as soot. The trees closed in. I felt their branches claw at the edges of my nightgown, their roots threatening to snatch me from the ground. I looked behind us. Our hotel was no longer in sight. The trees had completely sealed away where I’d come from.

Finally, Hyacinth halted to gesture toward the horizon.

There, not far in the distance, stood the castle—but not as I remembered it. I’d thought the castle looked old before, crumbling from the absence of its king and its people, with its mysterious windows and wide moat. Now the bricks had turned black, like fire had scorched them, and thorny ivy ate at its walls. Even the moat’s water had turned to sable, so that I could no longer see to the bottom. Now and then, an enormous shadow glided by, the river monster’s fins cutting viciously through the surface.

Hyacinth turned to face me. He was suddenly holding the sword I’d taken from the ogre and the crossbow I’d retrieved from under the land bridge. “Take this sword,” he said, “and strap it to your back. Hold the crossbow in your arms.”

I knew what he wanted from me. Down by the dark riverbanks, the water churned as the monster passed.

Hyacinth pointed downstream. “The water is shallower there,” he said. “You will be able to see better. Take care not to drift far off course as you swim. If you are pulled into darker waters, the river guardian will sense you struggling in the current and tug you under.” He brushed the crossbow with one hand. “Aim true, Fr?ulein, for you have only one chance.”

I nodded silently. The weapon felt heavy in my hands. “And when I reach the other side?”

“Take your sword and cut through the thorns,” he said. “They will give way to you, but you must keep moving, lest they close in too quickly behind you and catch your legs. Once caught, you will not be able to escape their grasp.”

At last, Hyacinth held out the night flower to me. I stared down at its thorny stem, the plant’s center still glowing a midnight blue. “Keep this close to you. Do not give it to anyone.”

Give it to anyone? “I hadn’t thought there were people left in the castle,” I said.

“No. Not people.” Hyacinth gave me a grave look. “I will be behind you, but as the castle was my home, they can sense my presence more easily. You must go first. If you see someone on the stairs, do not look at them. If they ask you a question, do not answer. They are not human.”

I trembled. “What are they, then?” I asked.

Hyacinth did not answer me. Instead, he looked up at the tallest spire of the castle. A desperate longing crossed his gaze. “Make your way to the highest tower. When you reach the locked door at the top, take the night flower and crush it into powder in your hands. Sprinkle it across the door’s lock, and it will melt.”