The Boy with the Hidden Name (6 page)

Will looks very at home. He is standing by one of the fire-

places, looking at the enormous portrait hanging over it,

which is of an extremely attractive man in a black velvet suit

and black riding boots, a cape jauntily flung back over his

shoulder. He has one hand resting on the intricately jeweled

BoywiththeHiddenName_INT.indd 43

6/9/14 1:15 PM

Skylar DorSet

hilt of a sword at his hip, and the other hand rests on a marble table beside him. On his head rests a large bejeweled crown,

flattening black hair into cowlicks that peek out from the

back of his head. The expression on his face in the portrait is

self- satisfied, a smirk dancing around his lips, amusement in

eyes a brilliant shade of blue.

The thing about this portrait is that once you look at it,

nothing in the room seems nearly as interesting.

After a couple of minutes, footsteps sound over marble, far

away from us but approaching swiftly. Safford turns from the

window, looking wary, and Will takes a step away from the

fireplace, looking with interest in the direction of the footsteps.

And then the man from the portrait sweeps into the room.

He is dressed in the same black velvet as in the portrait, the

same black riding boots, with the same black cloak billowing

out behind him as he moves. It’s what he wore that day out-

side the Boston Public Library, when we retrieved the book

that told us about Ben’s mother. I wonder if he ever wears

anything else. I mean, it’s working for him, but still.

There is no crown on his head, but the sword swings at

his side. His hair is that shade of black that seems to almost

gleam blue, much darker than Ben’s hair, so dark that it

seems impossible and makes me think of silly poetic things

like raven’s wings and ebony. It is carefully disheveled all over his head in a devil- may- care sort of way.

He walks immediately over to Will, arms outstretched,

exclaiming, “William Blaxton.”

44

BoywiththeHiddenName_INT.indd 44

6/9/14 1:15 PM

The Boy wiTh The hidden name

Will smiles at him. “Your Majesty,” he says and then

hugs him.

“We have much to discuss,” says the man and gives Will

what can only be described as a hard look, belying the jovial-

ity of his tone.

Will pauses. “Yes,” he agrees.

“First though.” He turns to me and smiles. “You are the

fay,” he proclaims.

“Hi,” I say warily, a little thrown by his manner, which is

halfway between welcoming and imperious.

“Lovely to meet you formally,” he says, “as there wasn’t time

for such niceties when you stole the book from me.”

“It wasn’t your book,” Will says.

“It wasn’t
not
my book,” the man retorts. “But now, now, this is conversation that should not be had in such an uncivilized manner. There are other guests.” He looks at Safford

and Kelsey expectantly.

“Kelsey, Safford,” Will introduces, “this is the Erlking.”

He bows very gracefully, pulling the cape dramatically

about him as he does so. “Normally I would say, ‘Very much

in your service,’” he says. “‘Any friend of Will’s’ and all that.

But recent occurrences being what they have been, I offer

you a conditional welcome.”

“Conditional?” Kelsey echoes faintly. Her cheeks are a bit

pink, and I don’t blame her, because the Erlking head- on is a

little much to take.

“Will has explanations to make. If they’re not acceptable,

45

BoywiththeHiddenName_INT.indd 45

6/9/14 1:15 PM

Skylar DorSet

I will, of course, have your heads.” He says it so lightly that

Kelsey actually laughs, assuming it’s a joke, and the Erlking

looks at her quizzically, as if she is an interesting curiosity, which makes her laughter dwindle to a stop.

The Erlking looks back at Will. “Shall we dine then?”

“Of course,” Will responds.

The Erlking smiles, looking genuinely delighted. I cannot

figure out how old he is— he is clearly a king and carries

himself with the authority of one, but there is something

boyish about him as well. “Excellent. I love a feast.” He

whistles, and the same little boy who delivered the message

from the guard comes racing into the room. “There you are,”

the Erlking says to him. “Please tell the dining room we

are having guests for dinner.” The Erlking pauses and looks

over at us. He looks suddenly uncomfortable. “I’m so sorry,

forgive me, but…faerie or human food?” He looks to Will.

“You are in mixed company.” He turns back to us. “Which

would you prefer, ladies?”

“Human food,” I answer. “Definitely.”

He inclines his head graciously. “So be it.” He turns back

to the little boy. “You heard Her Ladyship. A human feast, if

you please.”

The little boy nods, “Yes, Your Majesty,” and races out of

the room.

The Erlking turns his attention back to us. The harp in

the corner of the room plinks a few notes, and he frowns

in its general direction. “Heavens below, what
is
that thing 46

BoywiththeHiddenName_INT.indd 46

6/9/14 1:15 PM

The Boy wiTh The hidden name

doing?” He walks over to it and shakes it a bit. The harp

jangles in response. The Erlking sighs and turns back to us.

“It’s depressed. It’s been depressed ever since I had to send

the piano in to be fixed. It can’t even get itself to play proper music anymore, which is at least an improvement over the

terrible dirges it was playing before. I keep trying to tell it

that the piano will be back soon, but you know how musical

instruments are. They never believe a word you say.”

The little boy comes racing back into the room.

“Ah,” the Erlking says to him, “is dinner served?”

The little boy nods, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“May I have the honor then?” the Erlking asks Kelsey and

me politely, holding out an arm for each of us.

I had thought it possible that the portrait had exagger-

ated the blue of the Erlking’s eyes, but if anything, they

are more intense. He is undeniably compelling, and I hear

myself saying, “Of course,” and settle my hand in the crook

of his elbow.

Kelsey does the same on the other side, and the Erlking

leads us out of the room and into the next, which is a large

dining room with a beautifully set table. There are two chan-

deliers hovering overhead, each crowded with hundreds of

tapered candles, and the china and crystal and silverware

all flash in the candlelight. The table is covered with food,

and my stomach audibly growls. I hadn’t realized until that

moment how hungry I was.

“How did they have time to do all this?” Kelsey asks.

47

BoywiththeHiddenName_INT.indd 47

6/9/14 1:15 PM

Skylar DorSet

“Time?” echoes the Erlking blankly, as if he doesn’t under-

stand the question. He pulls her chair out for her and seats

her and then moves around to the other side of the table and

pulls another chair out. “For you,” he says to me, when I

stand there stupidly watching him.

“Oh,” I say and scurry over to him. I’ve never had a guy

pull out a chair for me before, and I’m not quite sure that I

pull the whole thing off as elegantly as you’re supposed to,

but whatever. “Thank you.”

He sits to my left, at the head of the table, and Will takes

the seat to my right, with Safford opposite him.

A violin comes floating into the room and begins crooning

a soft sonata from near the roaring fire in the fireplace.

“The violin,” the Erlking remarks, “is not depressed. I think

it quarreled with the piano and is hoping it never comes

back.” And then he holds out his hands expansively. “Please.

Help yourselves.”

I hesitate and look to Will for guidance, and he pulls over

a bowl of mashed potatoes and puts a heaping amount on his

plate. I follow his lead, and for a little while, there is silence as we help ourselves to food.

The Erlking is not eating. He is settled back in his seat, cra-

dling a goblet of wine in his hand and watching…me.

I look at him, self- conscious under his gaze. I am sure I am

blushing. “What?”

His eyes stay on me, and his lips curve into a smile. “You

were the reason for Will’s last visit. A fay of the seasons, he

48

BoywiththeHiddenName_INT.indd 48

6/9/14 1:15 PM

The Boy wiTh The hidden name

told me. And would we consent to have her sheltered in the

city above us. And look. Here you are.” He sits up abruptly

and sets his goblet of wine down. “And now we discuss it.”

He fixes Will with a hard look. “I mean to exist in peace, and

you know those are my intentions, but I cannot find myself

with any other option than to acknowledge that my people

are presently at war.”

“Not with us,” Will denies.

“Oh no? Who was it who took the book out of the room?

That was the term of the treaty, Will Blaxton: that the book

of power would be locked into the room by the Witch and

Ward Society.”

“There was always going to come a time when we would

need that book, Kainen, and you know it.”

“Do you really dare to use my name here?” the Erlking

demands.

“Yes. Because you let us leave with the book. Which is

something your people don’t know, do they? And all this is

to save face. You know that there are greater issues afoot, or

you wouldn’t have let Benedict get away from you. You could

have stopped him with a fingertip.”

The Erlking watches him for a moment, his eyes glittering

sapphires in the candlelight. “I have heard rumors.”

“The rumors are true. We can deny it no longer. The battle

we have long suspected is nearly here. Might be here already.”

“I thought that was what this meant.” The Erlking holds

up a pocket watch, face out. The time reads 11:09. I have no

49

BoywiththeHiddenName_INT.indd 49

6/9/14 1:15 PM

Skylar DorSet

idea whether that’s the right time or not. I suppose it’s the

right time somewhere in the Thisworld or the Otherworld.

“Why?” Will asks. “What happened to the time?”

“Well, it kept time perfectly, for centuries or hours, depend-

ing on the time you’re keeping, and then suddenly, today,

it stopped.”

I look up, food forgotten, thinking of the grandfather clock

on the landing at home. “It stopped?”

The Erlking nods. “And then when it began ticking again,

it was eleven o’clock. You know what happens when clocks

strike twelve.”

“What happens?” I ask.

The Erlking gives me a disapproving look. “Don’t you read

your histories? The enchantments all end.”

I think of the enchantment around Boston. “Which means

the Seelies will get in.”

“Exactly,” says the Erlking, replacing the pocket watch and

resuming eating as if this isn’t terrifying.

“But…” I think of the grandfather clock. “We’ll never know

how long it will take to strike twelve. It doesn’t move linearly.”

“It will now,” responds the Erlking, still calmly eating. “It will move through the eleven o’clock hour until it strikes twelve.

Of course, we cannot know how quickly that will happen, you

are correct, but we know that whatever time is being kept, we

are fifty- one ticks away from the twelve o’clock hour. So we are in the middle of a fight for our lives, and
you
have given the book to the faeries.” The Erlking looks hard at Will.

50

BoywiththeHiddenName_INT.indd 50

6/9/14 1:15 PM

The Boy wiTh The hidden name

I realize at that moment that I have no idea where the book

went. There was so much other stuff going on, I managed to

lose track of it. I lost track of the book of power. I’m terrible at this.

Will says, “Do you really think that I would do that? We

needed it, for the next step of our mutual defense, so we took

it. But they don’t have it.”

“Who has it then? Because I’ve already spoken to the Witch

and Ward, and they’ve a warrant out for its discovery. And in

the meantime, they’ve abandoned the city.”

This seems to catch Will’s attention. “Have they? Already?”

The Erlking snorts. “Frederick and Henry were never ones

for bravery, were they? You were the one who set the whole

thing up, and they just accepted the privilege of lording over

it. But they were never going to fight for it.”

“That is hollow flattery,” says Will after a moment.

“Which you have always been susceptible to,” says the

Erlking and sips from his goblet.

“Will you fight for it?” Will asks without acknowledging

the Erlking’s point.

The Erlking is silent for a moment. “I let you have the

book, didn’t I? I think I’ve made my choice.” He puts his

goblet down. “What is it that must be done?”

“We need your army.”

“So I assume.”

“The Stewarts must be protected. They are currently exposed

in Boston.”

51

BoywiththeHiddenName_INT.indd 51

6/9/14 1:15 PM

Skylar DorSet

The Erlking nods. “We can bring them to Goblinopolis.”

“And they’ll be safe here?” I ask anxiously. It doesn’t seem like such a bad place. Maybe it’s part of the spell the Erlking is weaving, but it seems much safer than Boston, cozy and protected