The Crystal Heart (26 page)

My mind was whirling with unexpected thoughts and disturbing images. I wanted to look at the Commander and see him for the killer, liar and deceiver that he was. Instead, I saw myself, a battered, bruised prisoner, trying to face his tormentors with as much pride and belief as he could muster. I saw myself in a mirror. Back then, it had been Commander Alek Los who had looked at me coldly from across the room, while the goons of the Supreme Council beat and humiliated me. The tables had been turned, and I should have thrilled to the sweet revenge. But unease mounted within me, and now it burst out in words I had never planned, words that came from I know not where. ‘But the truth is you
weren't
prepared to kill Izolda – not back then – were you?'

The Commander turned his head, fixing me with a cold blue stare. ‘What are you talking about?'

‘I think you know. It was not the crystal heart that transmitted the warning to me that day on the island, the day I went up the Tower and found Izolda – it was
you
.'

I heard Izolda gasp, but my eyes did not leave him. His face was changing, but not with softness, not with remorse or regret. It was harder than ever, more contemptuous. ‘Me? Transmit a warning?' he said. ‘How could I do such a thing?'

‘The dreams,' I said. ‘You had been in and out of her room in the Tower for long years and you are
feyin
. You could not see them all, just glimpses – enough to show you that somehow we were connected. Enough to show you that here was a chance you must take. You'd chosen me for the Tower Guard because you'd seen something in me that might be useful to you. You just didn't know why – until the day you saw my face in Izolda's dream.'

He gave a bitter laugh. ‘What a pretty tissue of fancies you spin, Kasper Bator! Even if I could do such a thing, why in the name of all the demons would I? If you think I felt something for the spawn of Night, just because she was a pretty young thing, then you truly are a fool – and a sentimental one at that.'

‘Later, you told the Prince we had escaped,' I went on, ignoring him. ‘You did not try to find us on your own. You could have done – and killed us both in secret, but you didn't.'

He stared at me and shrugged. ‘We were not ready for war.'

‘That is also why you transmitted the warning to me,' I said. ‘Because Krainos was not ready for war. At least, that's what you told yourself.'

‘Oh? Pray explain,' he sneered.

‘You think you did this thing – you think you transmitted the Council's intentions to me about Izolda to prevent
a war you couldn't yet win. But it wasn't that, not really.' I took a deep breath and drew myself up. ‘Why would a man go against everything he's ever believed in? Because at the core of him is something else, something buried so deep he doesn't even know it himself.'

There was dead silence in that room. Everyone was staring at me. Then the Commander said, harshly, ‘Enough! Do what you will. I expect no mercy. But I would ask only one favour – that you exact justice swiftly.'

It was such a strange thing. Alone and friendless, abandoned by the very same men who had ridden to glory and power on his back, left to his fate in this alien land, he had proudly confessed to all manner of crimes – crimes of which he was undoubtedly guilty. That same dreadful pride would not allow him to admit this one beautiful thing he'd done. That he had done it, I was absolutely certain. But it was clear he saw it as a moment of weakness – something to be ashamed of, dismissed. And it had not stopped him from trying to kill us later. I had no doubt that if the Commander had his way he would not hesitate to try again. Yet it wasn't fear or anger or even pity that flooded through me at that moment. It was sorrow. This man was already in a greater hell than any of us could ever devise for him.

He was in hell – a hell I understood, for I had faced it too, in the Tower. I had been alone, friendless, with no hope and no love – until Kasper came along.

‘Commander,' I said gently, ‘do you remember how the old
feyin
witch had shown your true nature to you?' I slipped the crystal on its string over my head and held it in my palm.

He looked at me warily, but made no answer.

‘How?' said my father. Looking at his face, I saw an expression that puzzled me.

It was Kasper who answered. ‘The blue light flashed, the light that shows when a
feyin
touches it.'

‘Something else, too,' I reminded him.

‘The lights went out … in the darkness we were able to escape –'

‘Something else again.'

I saw the answer dawn in Kasper's eyes. ‘The two halves of the crystal came together.'

‘Yes, and the crystal heart was made whole again.' I moved closer to Kasper. ‘Do you know what that means, my love?'

He took me by the hand and said, ‘Yes.' For he knew exactly what it meant, and what we must do.

‘Dear Father,' I said, turning to him, ‘you asked us before to give the last word. Are you ready to hear it?'

He nodded.

‘The crystal heart itself has shown us the way. A new beginning cannot start in blood and revenge, but only …' I looked at my love.

‘By making whole what was broken,' finished Kasper. ‘The Commander says he expects no mercy. Yet mercy cannot be something to expect, but something that is given freely.'

‘And that is what we ask, Father,' I put in. ‘We do not say he should not be punished. We do not say there should be easy forgiveness. We only ask for mercy, for our sake, and in remembrance of my loving mother.'

‘No,' said the Commander. ‘No …' His expression was changing, his eyes full of pain, his mouth trembling. Flinging himself onto one knee before my father, he cried, ‘This is cruelty beyond all bearing, Prince. If there truly is any mercy in your heart, grant me a swift death.'

My father smiled. It was a smile such as I had very rarely seen on his face before, a smile that lightened his whole face. Leaning down to the Commander, he said, very clearly and steadily, ‘That is the one thing I cannot grant, for you have died once already, brother.'

And in the dead silence that followed his words, he held out a hand to the stricken Commander, raising him to his feet.

Brother
. How could that be? I could not have heard right. The same shock was in Kasper's face. Only the men of Almain were not shocked. It was clear this was no surprise to them. They knew, but the Commander did not. Helplessly, he allowed himself to be guided to a chair. Staring blankly at the wall, he hardly seemed to listen as my father spoke of a terrible, chilling truth that was buried long ago, and only learned by him in news the Erlking had brought from Almain. The older brother he never knew, who had supposedly died from illness as a small child in Krainos, had in fact been targeted for murder by his father's advisers, because of a secret prophecy that foretold he would bring about the destruction of Night.

‘The prophecy was crystal clear,' said my father. ‘While the child lived, Night was in danger. Something had to be done. For the sake of the many, one must die.'

I could hardly breathe as he went on.

‘But it couldn't take place in Night, for his blood would taint the land and destroy its future. It had to be done in Krainos. If my mother had still been alive, it would never have happened. But she was not, and my father was weak and easily led. In the end he did as his counsellors said and sent his child to Krainos. There, the deed would be done, in time, and in such a way that it would never come to light. My brother was a sickly and delicate child. No doubt my father had hoped nature would be merciful and forestall the assassin's blade.' He paused. ‘A hunter was employed to take the child into the Forest, kill him and bury him so deep that he'd never be found. But faced with the task, he could not do it. Instead, he gave the child to a woodcutter and his wife, with strict instructions that the
boy was never allowed to leave the Forest or have anything to do with
feyin
. He did not know precisely who the boy was, or who wanted him dead, only that he was
feyin
. To his paymaster he reported that the boy was dead, and then he left Krainos, never to return.'

My father broke off abruptly, as if he were choking on his words. The Commander remained silent, huddled in his chair as though he were trapped in a spell. Only his eyes seemed alive, full of such fathomless horror that it were as though he were staring straight into the pit of hell.

Seeing that the Prince still could not speak, the Erlking took up the narrative. ‘That man came to live in a remote corner of Almain. He nearly took the secret to his grave. But just a few days ago, upon his deathbed, he confessed to a neighbour – one of the few people he ever spoke to – for he was a savage, solitary man. This neighbour was an old
feyin
woman, and when she heard what the hunter had to say, she remembered a young prisoner long ago …'

‘A young man who'd once worked for one of my enemies, as she had,' said the Grand Duke, speaking for the first time. ‘Long since, she's been reconciled to us. She came to find me, and told of what she'd heard.' He gestured to the Erlking. ‘And I told Florizel.'

I could hear what he was saying, but the meaning of it was quite lost. All that had meaning was the stricken look in the eyes of the man who had tried to save me, then tried to kill me – a man who had done great wrongs, but to whom a wrong far greater than anything else had been done. The same kind of thing the men of Krainos had planned to visit upon me, that he had saved me from, without knowing why.

It was the most savage and yet thrilling irony of fate, and my heart quailed within me as I cried out, ‘Oh, Father, how is it that you did not tell us this at once? Why did you ask us to have the last word, when you knew we had no knowledge of this?'

‘Because, my daughter,' he said, ‘if I had, then neither you nor Kasper would have done what you did. Knowing he was my brother – knowing he was your uncle – how could you look upon him just as a man and give a fair judgement?' He paused, then added softly, ‘And if I had done as you say, perhaps we would not know the truth – the buried truth you and Kasper drew out of my brother's heart.'

‘Perhaps you are right, Father,' I said and placed the crystal into his hand. ‘And now I do not need this anymore, Father, but your brother, my uncle, certainly does.'

Our eyes met. I had never seen such a look on my father's face before – a look that always before I'd thought of as too human for his proud soul. It was humility mixed with hope.

‘I think you are right, my dearest Izolda,' he replied. He walked to his brother, Alek, who sat with bowed head and stricken eyes. ‘I cannot undo the wrong that was done to you, brother, nor can you undo the one you did to us. All I ask you is this: will you take the crystal heart?' He held the crystal out on its string, where it flashed with myriad lights.

For a moment, it seemed as though the Commander would not respond, and we all held our breaths. Then with shaking hands he reached out to the crystal, took it and held it in the palm of his hand. At last, he glanced up. He looked terrible, as though he'd aged twenty years – his skin grey, his eyes mere hollows like that of a skull. He met my father's
eyes – met his brother's eyes! – and in a voice so faint that it was scarcely audible, he said, ‘I cannot take this.'

‘Of course you can, brother.' My father pointed to my mother's portrait. ‘I gave it to Irina long ago. And if she were here, she would want you to have this too, for she was always saddened that I'd lost my brother. She was a loving heart, a pure soul. Take it for her sake, if not mine.'

There was a lump in my throat as I listened to his words. Love for my father flooded warm through me, and respect and admiration, too. He was a great man, and looking at Kasper's expression, I saw he felt the same way.

‘Then I will take it,' the Commander said shakily, ‘though I do not think I deserve it, nor can I see how what I have done can ever be forgotten.'

‘As to forgetting, that has never been one of my talents,' said my father, with a humorous twitch of the lips. ‘Nor, I think, one of yours.'

‘You are right,' said the Commander, slipping the crystal heart around his neck and getting up.

‘It is fortunate, brother, because forgetting is the last thing we must do,' my father said gravely. ‘If we are to make our present and future whole, then we must not ignore the broken past.'

‘Yes,' said the Commander, quietly. ‘But there is one thing I must ask you not to remember.'

‘What is that?' said my father.

‘That I was once the first-born son of Night,' replied the Commander, his eyes fixed on his brother's face.

It was a reassurance and a pledge. He was telling his brother – the Prince of Night – that whatever happened, he had no designs on his throne.

My father nodded. ‘Thank you, brother.' He extended a shy hand to the Commander, who took it, and they clasped hands briefly. The simple gesture was not what you might dream of between reunited brothers, but I knew it was the right one for the moment. So much had separated them, so much divided them, so much needed to be repaired and healed, and it would not be an easy task. But this would do for a start. It would do very well.

My father called the impassive guards to escort the Commander, not back to his cell, but to some new quarters in the Palace where he would be looked after.

As he turned to go, the Commander looked back at Kasper. ‘You said I chose you for the Tower Guard because I'd seen something in you, Kasper Bator. That is so. What I saw was something I had lost long ago. The courage born of a pure and honest heart.' Before Kasper could reply, the Commander turned to me. ‘I saw your mother in you, Princess Izolda, and your father, too. I only wish I had seen
you
. Not made of two broken halves, but whole and shining and true.'

And with that, he was gone.