Chapter Twenty-Three: The Emerald Ring
Nussbaum stepped away from the thrones. “Harrumph - we must follow Lion,” he said to Clara and Emily. “There’s a barrier to pass in order to reach the royal household. Stay close to Lion, he’ll bring everyone through.”
Mara and Ousef walked ahead. Clara and Emily walked behind the great beast. He had a musky, furry smell and his paws made no sound on the tiled floor as he padded along. Jarsa and Master Nussbaum followed, arm in arm and deep in conversation.
They walked along a dark stone passage that seemed endless. Spots of light came from glass globes floating around on a warm air current. There was a faint rumbling sound like distant thunder.
“Weird, this,” Emily said, dodging a globe.
“We’ll be fine,” Clara said firmly. “Just think, we’re going to be with the royal family in their private rooms. Did you ever imagine that?”
Mara turned to give them a reassuring smile. “You are greatly favored. Few are allowed to pass the Wall,” she said. “That’s the barrier between the great hall and the interior of the castle. Another safety measure. It’ll feel funny going through, like you’re walking in deep water. Even Ousef and I feel it, and we’re among the magicians who built the thing.”
The lion stopped. They had reached the Wall. Curious Emily tried walking further, but an invisible barrier bumped her back, hard. Clara gasped and grabbed her.
“It’s like trying to walk through a brick wall,” Emily said, laughing. “We’re supposed to get through it? That’ll be fun.”
Nussbaum frowned and said, “Take this seriously, please. Now stand behind Lion. He will open the way. Go through quickly, and don’t stop even for one second. You will experience some strange sensations, but keep moving until you’re on the other side.”
Emily said, “What happens if a person stops moving? Do they get trapped in there?”
“Yes,” Jarsa said. “Although we don’t know what it’s like because it hasn’t happened yet. Bound to be unpleasant. Maybe fatal, if they’re not rescued quickly. But don’t be afraid. Just keep walking.”
The lion faced the invisible wall and roared once. A gap in the air materialized; the dark mouth of a cave. Clara took a nervous pace forward, then another. On the third pace, she disappeared.
“Mama!” Emily cried, and plunged in after her. The gap behind her widened. The rest of the group followed. The lion roared once again and leaped through.
The Wall closed.
Clara
I was glad Mara had told us what to expect. It felt like forcing your way upstream in water up to your chest. The lion’s roar vibrated in my head for a long time, then faded away. I was breathing hard, as if a huge fist was squeezing me. I turned my head to if Emily was there, but I was alone. Keep walking, keep walking, I said to myself. Trust Emily, she’ll make it through.
We all emerged at once into a spacious corridor. Now we were really inside the castle. I only had a quick impression of crimson hangings and general gilded splendor before I spun around to locate Emily. There she was, laughing and out of breath.
“Oh, Mama,” she said, throwing her arms around me. “You were so brave!”
“Harrumph,” Master Nussbaum said. “Their Majesties will be waiting for us in Prince Darren’s chamber.”
We passed through softly-lit corridors hung with tapestries. Nussbaum turned right at one chamber, and indicated we should follow him.
The real King and Queen sat there. They had taken off their formal dress and wore simple robes. The King’s face was lined with weariness and worry. The Queen sat twisting her hands in her lap. She rose and came forward until she was close enough to look into my eyes. I took her hand, and pulled her to me in an embrace, as if she were my own sister.
“It’ll be all right, it’ll be all right,” I kept saying.
“Cousin,” she said with a half-sob. She made a gesture to the middle of the room.
In the middle of the room was a curtained bed, and on that bed was the poor little prince.
Emily
Ousef and Mara bowed to the regents, but said nothing. They were there as witnesses, I saw. Master Nussbaum was also quiet, except for the occasional harrumph.
Jarsa took me to one side. “Gather your thoughts now,” she said. “Take a couple of slow breaths. Go over the charm, the undoing spell, and the key word for completing the healing.”
I understood. I had to be calm to do the magic. I did as she said, breathing slow and pushing away all thoughts except what I needed to focus on. I gazed at the emerald ring. It gleamed and felt hot on my finger.
Jarsa saw I was ready. We went over to the little boy’s bed. I parted the bed curtains and gazed down.
He was lying on his side with his eyes closed, breathing hoarsely. Blankets covered him up to the chin. Blond hair escaped his cap. A good fire burned in the fireplace and the chamber was warm, but he was shivering violently.
Jarsa and I looked at each other. There were tears in her sapphire eyes.
“This is very bad,” she said. “We’re here just in time, I think.”
The Queen whispered, “May I stand by the bed?”
“If you will remain entirely silent, Your Majesty,” Jarsa said. “One word, one sound even, would interrupt the magic and all our efforts would be lost.”
She came to the foot of the bed. “I will be silent,” she said. She looked at the King, who was staring off into space with his eyes full and lips shut tight.
Jarsa and I stood close together. Her energy felt good and gave me confidence. She drew the covers off the prince and removed his cap. My heart lurched. His little limbs were wasted, and he was entirely white, like Tommy had looked when dead.
“Gods, grant us the power to heal this child,” Jarsa murmured.
I held my hand up and looked into the emerald stone, willing it to twine its power with mine. This is what you’re here for, I thought to it. To work this magic. Hold hard to me.
A core of determination formed inside me.
“Now,” I said.
I began chanting the undoing charm, drawing on the emerald’s power to extend and magnify it to a binding spell. A hot rush of energy ran through my body and I quivered, but I held on. A dot of emerald-green light shone in my vision, and it grew larger and larger, and I immersed myself in it. My own voice, chanting, sounded like it was coming from outside my body. I chanted. I chanted.
With a sudden pop, the spell burst into being. I leaned over the child and put my hands over his head. Undo, undo, I said, driving the spell into him. Unravel the curse. Unravel the backwardness. Send it away forever.
When I felt a current of energy moving under my hands, I knew the spell had worked. I placed my hands over his heart and began the healing spell, inserting the key word at exactly the right time, as Jarsa had taught me.
The little boy stopped shivering and breathed normally. His body, so pale before, turned rosy and grew warm.
From far away, suspended in trance, I heard Jarsa say, “You did it, it’s done.”
I surfaced with a long sigh. Then I looked down at the child. He was looking around in wonder, like a newborn. His fingers moved. Nobody spoke; the silence was perfect.
The Queen was trembling. “May I come now?” she said. I stood aside to let her come.
She scooped the child up to her heart and kissed him again and again.
“He’s warm,” the Queen said with emotion. “He’s all warm again. Husband, come see, Darren’s awake.”
The King approached with tears in his eyes. “Awake? Truly awake?”
The child’s eyes were enormous in his thin face, lying there in his mother’s arms. “Daddy,” he said. “Mama.”
Then the room was alive with weeping and laughter.
Jarsa held me in a brief, tight hug.
Mama came and regarded me with something like awe.
Start reading The Ghosts of Honeycombe Farm from Chapter One, here.
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