The Kingdom of Back(60)

The princess trapped in the tower. Tonight, finally, I could free her and reunite her with her brother. But my hands shook as I looked back toward the dark river. “I cannot do this,” I gasped. “I am too afraid.”

Hyacinth shifted his golden gaze to me. Perhaps the dying kingdom was killing him too, bleaching his flesh the pale color of death. “I do not have much time, Fr?ulein,” he said quietly to me. There was a growl in his voice now. “And neither do you. Do you remember your secret wish? Do you recall our promises to each other?”

I tightened my grip on the crossbow, felt the night flower’s thorns sharp in my pocket. I turned away from Hyacinth, then began to walk toward the shallow part of the moat. There, I dipped one foot into the water. Instantly, I hissed and jerked back. The water was cold as ice. I hesitated, then lowered my legs into it, my waist and chest and arms. The icy water pressed in from all sides, seeking a way into my throat. I fought against the current rushing around my legs and started to kick my way across.

From the corner of my eye, I could see the black fin of the river monster angle in my direction, drawn to my kicking. I struggled to keep my head above the water. As the cold began to numb my legs, I tried to kick faster against the current so that it would not tug me into the deeper water. Hyacinth paced on the shore, watching me.

Suddenly the current swept my feet from under me. My head dipped underwater. For a moment I hung there, no longer in control, a rag doll in the tide. I panicked. My breath escaped from me in a cloud of bubbles, and I kicked frantically. Whispers swirled around me—voices that sounded like Woferl, like my father and mother. In my struggle, I opened my eyes in an attempt to see. Out of the murky distance came a shadow, and when I jerked my head toward it, I realized it was the river monster gliding its way toward me, its eyes white and its jaws splitting its head open.

I screamed and screamed. Bubbles rushed up before me, obscuring my view. Through my terror came Hyacinth’s words, clear and cutting as a blade.

Aim true, Fr?ulein, for you have only one chance.

The river monster sped up. I hoisted the crossbow in front of my chest. In this frozen instant of time, I could suddenly see myself suspended in the water, the gleaming tip of my weapon pointed straight at the creature’s gaping mouth.

I pressed the trigger.

The arrow sliced through the water, straight into the monster’s jaws, and disappeared into the blackness of its throat.

The creature roared. It jerked away from its path toward me and thrashed, kicking up dirt from the riverbed. Everything around me turned into a haze of darkness. I struggled up, aiming blindly for the surface. My chest threatened to burst.

Miraculously, my feet found their way again, and I came up with a terrible gasp. Behind me, the water frothed with the creature’s dying throes. Its shrieks were gurgled now, the sound filling with blood. The smell of metal choked the air. I reached the opposite bank and scrambled up the side. Mud and grime sank deep into my fingernails.

I reached the top of the banks and threw myself to the ground in a heap. When I looked back at the river, I could see the trail of dark blood leaking from where I had been. The river monster was nowhere to be seen. I sat for a moment, gulping air, wiping tears from my cheeks. The crossbow lay beside me, useless now.

On the other side, Hyacinth took a step toward the moat. To my shock, the water now parted where he stepped, as if God had touched the water and split it like the Red Sea. The dry riverbed revealed the corpse of the river monster, which Hyacinth now stepped over without a second look.

I turned toward the forest of thorns, pulled the sword from my back, and dragged myself to my feet.

As Hyacinth said, the thorns parted with a hiss at the first brush of the blade against their brambles. I cut my way steadily through until I could barely see anything around me except their sharp points. They caught against my dress, ripping lines through the fabric as I went. Behind me, Hyacinth had crossed the river and was walking through the beginning of the path I’d carved through the thorns.

A rogue branch lunged for my foot, its thorns cutting a bloody line across my ankle. I cried out, swinging the sword down blindly at it. The blade made contact, and the bramble shrank away as if from fire. Other branches reached for me, hungering for skin. I hacked at them even as they closed in.

I missed one branch. It twisted around my ankle, tightening, its thorns digging hard into my flesh.

This is the end, I wanted to sob. I will not be able to escape it.

Suddenly, its grip loosened. I saw Hyacinth behind me, his teeth bared, his jaws having sliced straight through the branch. “Hurry,” he growled.

A surge of strength rushed through me. I swung the sword as hard as I could, and the last of the thorns before me parted. I stum-bled out of the branches and fell to my knees against solid ground.

When I lifted my head, I was staring at the entrance to the castle, its front gates wide-open. Bundles of dead, dried grasses were tied to every iron bar. It reminded me of the billowing grass in the valley of the arrow, and I shivered at the memory of the wind’s whispers.

The sword in my hand had turned dull, its surface slowly eaten away by the poison of the thorns. I dropped it, watching the blade vanish into nothing, leaving only the hilt. Then I struggled to my feet and went on without looking back.

I walked across a barren courtyard where great processions must once have marched through. Dark drapes hung across every castle window. Old flags of a once-great kingdom now hung in tatters from the castle ramparts. When my eyes lingered long enough on their faded embroidery, I could make out the hint of a sun, great golden waves of thread radiating out from a central circle. It was such a familiar symbol. I frowned at it, trying to place where I might have seen it before.