The Spinner and the Slipper (7 page)

CHAPTER TEN

Abandoned

Just at the brink of dawn, before the pink of the rising sun edged the rim of the sky, the green-eyed man rose from the spinning stool, stretched his back, and looked around at his handiwork, satisfied. He had done well, if he did say it himself. The piles of spun gold gleamed with their own otherworldly light, the richest, purest gold ever seen in all of this kingdom. If Hendry wasn’t contented by this wealth, well . . .

Satisfaction faded from the faerie’s eye as he turned his gaze from the golden bundles to the girl lying deeply asleep on her humble bed. Her dark hair fanned about her face, messy and yet somehow beautiful. She should be safe now. He had fulfilled his vow.

But this thought darkened the faerie’s brow, and his heart moved with some emotion he feared to name.

He stepped lightly over to the bed, looking down into Eliana’s peaceful face. Should he wake her to bid her farewell? King Oberon had forbidden him to return to her again, so this must be their final meeting. Surely it could not hurt to speak her name softly, to see those gentle eyes of hers flutter open and gaze at him one last time . . .

Somehow he knew that if she did wake, if she did look at him, he would never find the will to leave.

So he put out a hand, light as the gentlest breeze, and gently touched her soft cheek. “Good bye, Eliana,” he whispered, lingering as long as he dared.

The next moment he was gone.

When the king and queen entered her gold-filled chamber, Eliana was awake and prepared. She stood quietly by the wall even as the door burst open and the queen rushed in, exclaiming loudly and plunging her hands deep into the largest of the gold piles. Eliana bobbed a curtsy to the king, but he did not seem to notice, standing thunderstruck in the doorway.

“You did it again!” he breathed at last. “You really, truly did it!”

No answer seemed to be required, so Eliana offered neither confirmation nor contradiction. She merely bobbed a second curtsy and stood with her hands folded. Her quiet demeanor belied the pounding of her heart, however. Would the king be satisfied with this abundance and let her go at last? Would she be permitted to return home . . . if she could even call it home after her stepmother’s dreadful betrayal?

These thoughts crowded painfully behind Eliana’s eyes. She could hardly say, even to herself, what she wanted in that moment. Freedom, certainly. But freedom to return to that life she had always known hardly seemed like freedom at all. Though she had managed to be content enough with her difficult lot these last two years, she found resistance forming in her heart now. Resistance and . . . and . . . what was this new emotion?

Why could she not, even now, standing in the intimidating presence of her king, get the memory of brilliant green eyes out of her head? Those beautiful green eyes . . .

King Hendry, recovering himself at last, turned upon Eliana, his mustache lifting in an enormous grin. “You are a wonder! A shining gem!” he declared. “I did not believe you, but you really weren’t lying.”

Eliana said nothing. She merely bowed her head, dropping her gaze to the floor.

The king did not notice but continued in the same enthusiastic voice. “I’ll make you a deal, girl: If you can do it just
one more time
, I’ll name you a Lady of the Realm. How does that strike your ear?”

Ice froze Eliana’s veins. Again? He wanted her to do the impossible . . .
again?
She couldn’t speak, could hardly breathe! She could not even find the will to back away when the king approached her and took her cold hand in both of his warm ones.

“Spin the gold one more time,” King Hendry continued, “and we shall have a dress made for you from the thread. You will be a shining image, and you will attend the Spring Advent Ball along with all the other eligible ladies of four kingdoms! Then we’ll see what my son thinks of you,” he added with another vast smile.

They moved her to another room, larger and richer than the cell she’d been kept in the past two days. A bed stood against the wall with pearly comforters and a draped canopy of pale voile, and the furnishings were made from mahogany. She walked on rugs of rich, woven threads softer than grass.

A maid came in, brushed Eliana’s hair out and tied it up with delicate braids, dressed her, and gave her a basin of cool water. Eliana washed her face, put on her new dress the queen’s seamstresses had made for her, and moved to the big curtain-hung windows. There she looked out upon the bright, beautiful day.

And saw the gallows still standing in the courtyard below.

Like one in a dream, she staggered to the bed and sank down on the edge of it.

“Will there be anything else, miss?” asked the maid, standing at the door.

Eliana blinked at her, hardly believing that such a phrase had been directed her way. She had never been waited on by anyone before in her life! “Oh, no. Not at all,” she stammered.

“Very well, miss,” said the maid, then curtsied prettily and exited the room.

Eliana sat like a statue in the stillness, hardly able to think, completely unable to move. A knock came at the door what seemed like hours later. She lacked the strength to speak, but they entered without her bidding, three servants carrying the spinning wheel, which they set in the center of the room.

The soldierly housekeeper came in as well. “I’m here to inform you of the doings of the past few days,” she said, standing upright between Eliana and the spinning wheel. “Your mother, one Mistress Carlyn, has come inquiring about your welfare. She was sent away with assurances of your safety and given an invitation to the Spring Advent Ball to be held next week.”

Eliana gaped. “The ball?” she whispered.

“Yes. Hosted in the prince’s honor in hopes he will find a bride. Surely you’ve heard of it?”

She had, of course. Everyone knew about the Spring Advent Ball, three days of spectacular wonder, sumptuous and decadent. And everyone knew the particular significance of this year’s event as well. Eliana nodded mutely.

“Our Sovereign Majesty wishes to introduce you at court on the third night of the ball at the Reveal. It is a masquerade, you understand, and everyone must wear a mask until the Reveal.”

Eliana could think of nothing to say to this. But the housekeeper seemed to expect something, so she opened her mouth and asked bluntly, “Why must I spin more gold?”

“Because your king requests it.”

“No,” Eliana said, and her voice grew hard. “It’s because the threat remains that I will be killed if I do not.”

To this the housekeeper could give no answer.

“Why does the king
want
the gold?” Eliana persisted.

The housekeeper drew a long breath. Then she moved to the door and briefly paused on the threshold before turning back to say, “King Hendry will visit you tomorrow. It’s best not to disappoint him.”

With that, she left. Soon afterward, servant boys entered, carrying bale after bale of straw on their backs, then spools to hold the gold thread—dozens of them. Then the boys hastened out, and Eliana was alone once more. Alone with the spinning wheel and the straw.

Night fell.

Eliana waited . . .

. . . and waited . . .

. . . and waited.

When midnight came and the faerie did not appear, Eliana went to the bedroom door and tried to open it. It was locked. The clatter of guards could be heard outside, and she knew there would be no escaping that way. The window was high above the ground, and when she looked out she spied no ledges or vines she might use to climb down.

Seeing no other recourse, Eliana sat tentatively at the spinning stool. Trying her best to remember what the faerie man had done, she picked up handfuls of straw and ran them through the wheel. They crumbled to pieces and fell at her feet. She tried to be more careful, to spin more slowly. Then she tried spinning faster. But no matter what she did, she could not twist the dry grasses into thread.

Still the faerie did not come.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The Power of a Name

The green-eyed faerie stared into the crystal ball, his hands grasping its smooth curves, his face pressed so near that his breath fogged the surface. His heart pounded with horror at what he saw.

Hendry wanted
more?

The urge to fly back to the mortal world filled him with such power, he was almost away before reason caught up with him. But then came the memory—King Oberon’s command.

“
You may have one night, and no more!
”

Loyalty to his master beat true in the faerie captain’s breast. But that loyalty fell in direct conflict with other, equally powerful emotions. He gazed upon the image of Eliana waiting there in her lavish prison. Waiting for him, trusting in him,
needing
him . . .

His fingers let go of the crystal ball and moved almost unconsciously into the front of his tunic. They found the gold necklace and the ring secreted away there. Such lovely gifts, given without question despite the pain the giving caused. Truly he had never met a sweeter, more generous soul than that which was housed in this mortal girl’s frame!

And must he leave her to suffer the fate intended for her by a greedy king?

“It seems to me singularly un-heroic for an ardent man to dither in the face of his lady’s distress.”

The nameless faerie turned guiltily at the sound of Queen Titania’s voice. The beautiful queen glided beneath the tall pillars and took up a place on the far side of the crystal, her luminous eyes gazing upon the visions presented there. “The poor wee creature,” she said, though there was a smile in her words. “Little does she know that her champion has grown faint-hearted at the last!”

“What would you have me do?” the faerie captain demanded, his voice sharp and choked. He knew he should never address his queen in such a manner, but distress made a fool of his civility. “How can I possibly disobey my king?”

Titania gave him a slow, sly look. Then she produced from under her long, sweeping robes a folded black garment. With a flick of her wrist she shook it out, and the faerie captain beheld a cloak of absolute darkness, deeper than night itself.

“If you would return to the mortal world without my husband noticing,” said the queen, “there are ways this might be arranged.”

The faerie captain stared at the cloak. Hope rose in his heart, momentarily drowning out his loyalty to Oberon.

“It is, after all, most unfair that the girl should die because my lordly husband is in a snit,” Titania continued. “He can be most unreasonable at times, as we both well know.” She handed the cloak to the captain, who accepted it without a word. “Go on, good man. Go rescue your lovely lass. Fulfill your vow to the fullest.”

A number of protests rose up in the green-eyed man’s throat. But his need to hasten to Eliana’s side drove them all back down again. Without even daring to breathe a word of thanks, he donned the cloak, vanishing at once so completely that even Titania’s quick eyes could not follow him. The next moment he sped away from this world to the other.

Titania chuckled softly to herself, shaking her head. Somehow she knew that her fun was just beginning!

With this thought in mind she turned from the crystal ball . . . in time to see King Oberon fill the open doorway across the room. She jumped in surprise then greeted him with an enormous, glorious smile. “Good evening, beloved husband!” she cried.

Oberon grunted and strode into the room. “Don’t you try to distract me with your pretty face and pretty words, woman!” he said. “My good servant Puck tells me that he saw you making away with my cloak of darkness. And I want to know
why.
”

“Since you don’t need me anymore, I suppose I’ll go back where I came from.”

Eliana leapt up from the spinning stool, dropping the handful of straw she’d been futilely trying to twist into thread. Her shoulder bumped into the faerie man in her haste to turn around and face him. With a glad cry she flung her arms around his slender waist.

“What took you so long?” she exclaimed, her face buried in his chest. “I thought you’d gone for good!”

The faerie man drew a sharp breath then patted her head awkwardly. “I was unavoidably detained, dear one,” he said gently. “But I’m here now. I’m here.”

“I cannot do it on my own,” Eliana said, pulling back, suddenly embarrassed. She put a hand to her flaming face, wishing she could hide her blushes from his quick gaze. “I tried, but . . .”

“I saw,” said he, smiling down at her. “It was an abysmal effort at best! Apparently you did not inherit your mother’s abilities.”

Eliana frowned, shaking her head quickly. “I know it was a foolish effort, but I didn’t know what else to try, and you didn’t come and didn’t come—”

He laughed then. “You make it sound as if I’d abandoned you!” When the girl was silent, he pulled her close and tucked her head under his chin. “I would never do such a thing.”

Eliana shuddered and then relaxed into his embrace. As though confessing some guilty secret, she said, “King Hendry told me that I am to be presented to his son at the Spring Advent Ball. I think he means for . . . for us to marry.”

The faerie startled at this, his face darkening even as he held Eliana close. “So soon? Even though you’ve never met?”

Her arms tightened about him, thrilling him to the heart. “He’ll still kill me, won’t he? If I . . . if
you
don’t spin the gold?”

A long pause. Then the faerie man said, “I am not sure. But I wouldn’t put it past him.”

At that, Eliana let go of the faerie and turned to the spinning wheel dusted with crumbled bits of straw. She could not bear to look at the faerie but hugged herself, clutching her own arms with trembling fingers. “I have nothing left to give you. The necklace and the ring were all I had of any value.”

“Is that true?” The faerie man moved soft-footed around to the other side of the spinning wheel. His brilliant eyes sought hers in the gloom, and she could not help but meet his gaze. “Have you nothing else of rare value that you might offer me? Willingly?”

Eliana stared deep into those eyes, seeing there a longing she hardly dared name. A longing that reflected her own? Could it possibly be that in those eyes she saw the home she had lacked all these years? Could it possibly be that in her eyes he saw the same?

She spoke before realizing she intended to. “I will give you a name,” she said. “Before dawn. I promise, I will name you.”

His face lit up with an internal glow much brighter than all the gold he could ever spin. “Do you . . . do you realize what that means?” he asked her, his voice tight with hope and no little fear. “For faeries?”

As he spoke, realization struck Eliana. Deep inside, she knew then what she had promised—to name him was to claim him as her own. Forever. Such was the way of the Faerie Realm, the magic and beauty.

“Eliana,” said he, “are you sure?”

She did not hesitate, not even for a moment. Even as another hot flush flamed in her cheeks, she smiled across the spinning wheel at him. “Yes,” she said with absolute confidence. “I am sure.”

For a moment she thought he would spring over the wheel and catch her in his arms. She rather hoped he would! But instead, with that brilliant light still shining like the sun in his face, out from his inmost being, he took a seat at the spinning stool. “Then let us get to work, my dearest one!” he cried. “In exchange for such a gift, I can spin whole mountains of gold!”

This time Eliana stayed up with him through the night. She handed him handful after handful of straw and dragged spools of thread away to another corner when they were full. The faerie sang loudly as he worked, and Eliana joined in the song, tentatively at first, and then with more vim:

“Round about, round about,

Lo and behold!

Reel away, reel away,

Straw into gold!”

Eliana stood close to the faerie now, kneeling beside the minuscule mound of straw left. She handed him a small handful, and he fed it in slowly. All the while, her mind busied itself with thinking of his name. It had to be the
right
name, the name that would truly claim him. Not just anything would do. Somehow it had to be a name that expressed all he had come to mean to her in so short a time, a name that expressed all he would come to mean to her as time went on.

“That’s done!” the faerie declared at last. The sky outside the window was just beginning to lighten as he turned to Eliana and took her hands in his. Mounds of gleaming gold surrounded them both, but she could hardly see this for the bright glow of his eyes. “Now, my sweetest Eliana, may I claim that gift you promised?”

She smiled up at him, so full of joy in that moment. The name came to her then, the perfect name.
His
name. “Yes,” she declared. “From this day forward, you will be called—”

A noise like a thunderclap filled the room, drowning out her voice. The sound itself was so powerful, it knocked Eliana to the ground. She thought she heard her faerie captain cry out in horror, but even that sound was lost in a powerful whirlwind that sent the gold thread flying from its neat piles and spools in a terrible maelstrom of light and darkness.

Suddenly Eliana’s eyes fixed upon two sandal-clad feet. She looked up slowly into the most beautiful, most frightening face she could ever have imagined. Fear struck her mute, and she could not find the will even to scream.

King Oberon stared down at her. “What,” he demanded, in a mountainous voice, “is the meaning of this?”

He lifted his gaze from her to the faerie, who had been blown across the room in the whirlwind, striking the wall hard. He picked himself up bravely, throwing back his shoulders as he faced his king.

“Master!” he cried, extending both hands. “Allow me to explain—”

“Don’t bother!” Oberon roared. He flung out an arm, and suddenly enormous chains fastened themselves around his captain’s wrists and neck, so heavy that they brought him crashing to his knees. “Titania has told me all, how you took my cloak of darkness and sneaked back into this world against my will. Did you really think you could get away with it? Did you really think me such a fool that I would not find out?”

“Please, my king!” the faerie cried, his horrified gaze moving from Oberon’s terrible visage to the pale face of Eliana, who still lay upon the floor.

Oberon saw where his captain’s gaze went, and he looked back down at Eliana. “What did you promise to give him in exchange for this magic of his?” he demanded.

Eliana tried several times to speak before finding her voice. “I—I promised to name him,” she managed at last.

Lightning flashed in the faerie king’s eyes. For he knew exactly what such a promise meant. His handsome face warping into an angry snarl, he reached out and caught Eliana’s head in a viselike grasp. He dragged her up to her knees, pulling her face close to his own so that she must stare deep into his eyes.

“You will forget,” he said, enchantment lacing every word. “You will forget everything you have seen these last three nights. You will forget my captain, his face, his voice, his every word. I hereby strip you of all memory of him.”

“
No!
” cried the captain, struggling against the heavy chains. “My king, I beg of you!”

But Oberon let go of Eliana, and she sank senseless to the floor, her dark hair spread out upon the rich carpet beneath her. The faerie king turned then to his captain and picked him up by his collar as though he weighed no more than a mewling kitten. “I’ll teach you to compromise your loyalty to me!” he said.

Another wind whirled about the room, tossing the gold threads into tangles and snarls. But when it settled, each skein lay rolled as neatly as it had been before Oberon’s arrival. In the center of the room stood the spinning wheel, and Eliana lay beneath it, pale as a ghost.