The Crystal Heart Page 8

  I said nothing of these things to Izolda. I did not want to see that bright new cheerfulness of hers darkened in any way. I wanted to always see her as happy as she was now, and if it meant putting aside anxiety and telling her again and again that, yes, everything would work out, then that was a very small price to pay. She did not speak of missing her home or of trying to find out any more than I had already, but I knew that the time would come when she would. And I – well, once I would have been content just to stay here forever, but now, that had changed. I did not want the girl I loved to be a prisoner again in a fortress of greenwood; I did not want her to be obliged never to have any other horizon. She deserved so much more than that. If only there was a way that we could get safe passage to her father’s lands. If only there was some way he could be made to see that his quarrel with Krainos was now over. If only there was a way I could be both my parents’ son and Izolda’s love, without any fear or danger or persecution for either of us …

  But these thoughts did not torment me. They were just an irritant in what otherwise was the happiest time of my whole life. I was filled with the delight of knowing that I not only loved someone but that I was loved in return. Her scent, her warmth, her beauty, her intelligence and her spirit intoxicated me. I would do anything and everything for Izolda, be it ever so difficult, cost it ever so much. I would find a way that we could be together always, without fear, without hiding. I knew I would. It was just a matter of time.

  Izolda

  It was the evening of the fourth day since we had declared our love. I looked up from my painting to see Kasper watching me with that new look in his eyes – a thoughtfulness that’s close to anxiety. It bothers me a little, even through the happiness that makes my heart feel as light as one of Fela’s feathers. I know what he is thinking. We cannot stay here for ever. Sooner or later, we will have to go. To face life again, the world. I always knew that, and now he did, too. But unlike him, it didn’t worry me, though once it would have done. We love each other and that’s what matters. ‘No power on earth will part me from you,’ he’d said, and the strange thing was, the unease I’d felt then had quite vanished. I believed it now, with all my heart and soul. Nothing could part us. Love had given us a strength and courage that was unbeatable. At least that was my feeling, calm as knowledge.

  Awake, I am fizzing with the sweet honey of love that runs intoxicatingly in my veins. Asleep, I do not even dream. The dream where I’m flying has vanished. I am like a baby, sleeping without memory or thought.

  ‘Izolda.’

  The sound of my name on his lips makes me tingle. ‘What is it?’ I said softly.

  ‘What if we did go to a foreign country?’

  For a moment, I gaped at him. ‘You mean, to Ruvenya? But isn’t that where they’re looking for us?’

  ‘Not necessarily there, but somewhere we could get help.’

  ‘Help? In what way?’

  His dark eyes were serious. ‘I’ve been thinking about it a while, and it’s just struck me that maybe the answer to our problem is a diplomatic one. I mean, my government and yours are enemies, but each has alliances with others. Krainos might be regarded as a backwards soldier state by our neighbours, but they still deal cordially with us. Migrant workers from Krainos get jobs all over the place. And I thought maybe other feyin realms must have friendships with Night – is that right?’

  I nodded. ‘Yes. The Erlking, for instance, is a good friend of my father’s, despite past hiccups. But I still don’t understand.’

  ‘Well, I just thought that if someone could mediate for us, then perhaps an understanding might be reached.’

  ‘Why would anyone want to mediate for us? We are two unimportant people and –’

  ‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘I am unimportant, but you – you’re the Princess of Night. If Krainos and Night are no longer enemies, then the salt and crystal and opal trade will start again. Our neighbours will be pleased about that. They will certainly see the advantage in helping you. I’d be a minor part of the deal, that’s all. If, of course, you want me to be in the deal at all,’ he added teasingly.

  ‘Stop fishing for compliments, Kasper Bator,’ I said sternly, and he laughed and drew me onto his lap.

  ‘The easiest place for us to go to is Ruvenya – we can get to the border in a few days by water – but it might not be the best place in which to linger. We could then travel to Almain by train – or even further afield. What do you think?’

  ‘I will go where you go,’ I said simply, and watched the joyful colour flooding his face. ‘But before we go, I think we should send an envoy.’

  ‘An envoy?’ he echoed, looking baffled.

  I did not know where the idea came from. The words had come unbidden to my lips. ‘Fela,’ I suggested. ‘She can take a message for us. I have heard that it can be done.’

  He stared at me. ‘Yes, but messenger pigeons must be trained. It is quite a business. How will she know where to –’

  ‘I can tell her and she will understand,’ I said, and once again, I did not know how that notion had come to me. All I knew was that it was true, and that at my throat, the crystal heart lay warmly against my skin.

  ‘The magic is coming back to you,’ he said on a catch of breath. And the moment he said this, I knew that it was the truth. Ever since things had changed between us, I had felt the power that is the birthright of Night growing within me.

  ‘Yes, and I am so glad,’ I said joyfully. ‘For it means that now, at last, I can help properly and not just be a burden to you.’

  ‘That you can never be!’ Kasper cried fiercely, and I laughed to see his earnestness. He frowned a little at first but then the smile came, lighting up his whole face. ‘Together we will make our lives,’ he said, ‘wherever they take us.’

  ‘Wherever,’ I echoed. For an instant, images of the home I’d dreamed about for so long flooded into my mind – the underground city, the beautiful palace, the white salt halls – and I was seized with a sharp pang of nostalgia. I longed to walk in its streets again, with my love by my side. I know I will someday. Meanwhile, we had to go where it was possible to go. We had to prepare the ground so that one day we could both visit our homes without fear. Kasper’s strategy was a good one. I knew it would succeed, if we both played our parts.

  We started that very night to lay our plans. First, we would send Fela to the Grand Duke of Almain with a carefully composed message. While we waited for her return – which Kasper estimated to be within two days, all going well – we’d gather our supplies for the long boat trip to the Ruvenyan border. We’d have to go by a roundabout way to avoid travelling through too many settlements. We’d also make some figures to sell, for we’d need money for the train to Almain from the Ruvenyan border.

  As I lay in bed in the moments before sleep arrived at last, I thought of how I would not be sorry to leave this quiet, peaceful place where I have been so happy. Kasper and I were ready for the next chapter in our story, for it was time to turn the page.

  The next morning, we set to work straight away. Kasper headed off to the spot where we’d left the rowing boat, while I spent the hours painting toys and going over the message we’d drafted the night before. But it didn’t seem quite right to me, so I carefully revised it so that our message was clear.

  I turned to the pigeon sitting on the table, regarding me. ‘Fela, you must take this message to this place,’ I instructed, pointing to a spot on the map. ‘And only to this person.’ I showed her a sketch I’d rapidly drawn from a photograph I’d seen in one of the books I’d had in the Tower. ‘Our lives depend upon it. Do you understand?’

  Fela cocked her head and looked at me with her bright eyes. She hopped onto my hand and cooed softly three times. And all at once, I could hear words, like I did with the domevoy. Yes, yes, yes.

  A little tingle shot up my spine. I could understand the speech of animals now! I touched the crystal at my throat: it was warm. ‘You will keep it safe, won’t you, Fela
?’ I said, with a little tremble in my voice.

  Yes, yes, yes, she cooed.

  I tied the message to her claw and took her outside. ‘Are you ready, Fela?’ I asked, stroking her feathers gently.

  She cooed three times.

  ‘Go, with my blessing and Kasper’s,’ I told her then, and released my hold on her.

  Fela soared up into the sky, hanging there for a flap-of-wings instant, as if farewelling me. Then she was gone, heading straight as an arrow over the trees, towards the south. Our hopes go with her, and our future, I thought, with a little skip of the heart. Questions began to rush into my mind. What if a hawk should get her? Or a storm? What if she lost her way?

  It was now too late for doubts. I had to trust in this new power of mine. In the magic that had lain dormant inside me for so long, whose limits and features I still had no way of properly understanding, but that nevertheless, I must trust.

  Kasper

  I walked at a fast pace and reached the stream in just over half the time the journey had taken us when we’d first arrived. The boat was exactly where we’d left it a month ago, and though some dust and leaves had blown into it, it was undamaged. Pulling it out of the bramble bush, I carried it down to the water and rowed some way up the stream, to where it merged with another, bigger waterway, for I wanted to be sure that it was navigable all the way. It was, and the bigger stream would eventually lead us to the little town that marks the Ruvenyan border.

  I rowed back and replaced the boat in its hiding place, then began the journey home. I was glad to get back under the shelter of the trees, for the wind had risen and the temperature dropped while I was on the water. If I hurried, I’d arrive at the cottage well before nightfall. I was eager to tell Izolda that everything was all right with the boat and that at least the beginning of our journey should be easy enough. I knew that, like me, she was keen to get going.

  But even if for some reason the pigeon did not return, I thought, we will go anyway. Staying in our forest hideaway was no longer an option. I no longer wanted to feel as though I was obliging Izolda to keep away from the world. If we were abroad, at least she’d be free. And we’d both be safer than if we were at large in Krainos. Sooner or later, someone would find out about the cottage, and then we’d be caught like rats in a trap. At least there were more places to run to abroad. And there was the hope that diplomacy might get us out of the difficult situation we were in.

  Dear Angels, she is beautiful, I thought, as I hastened through the forest. It was getting colder, for the wind was insinuating itself even here. Rain began to fall, droplets at first, then faster and faster and I was soon soaked to the skin. Thunder and lightning started, crashing and flashing violently around me, and it was as much as I could do to keep my nerve and keep walking.

  Suddenly, a lightning flash brighter than any I’d seen smashed into the sky, immediately followed by the most deafening crash of thunder yet, so close that I could not help an involuntary shout. The next moment, I had to jump for my very life, for just a short distance down the path, a big tree came down with a screech of timber and a cacophony of branches, missing me by mere inches. I hardly had time to draw my breath when another giant of the forest screamed in pain as it split from end to end, disembowelled by the storm, then toppled on top of the other, the reverberations from its fall echoing through the forest.

  With the path completely blocked, I waited until the storm had subsided. By then, my pulse had returned to normal, but not the light. It was fading fast, for though by my reckoning it was not yet late, the storm had darkened the sky. And though the worst of it had passed, the rain was still falling, making everything gloomier than it normally would have been.

  Maybe it was that gathering darkness, maybe something else, but I felt a greater sense of urgency than ever before as I hacked my way through the forest. Was it my imagination or were the brambles and thorns thickening as I went? Did that vine really try to snare my ankle as I pushed my way along? That muffled sound I could hear – was that the soft pad of paws behind me? Would I ever find my way back to the path?

  I’m a man of the woods, I know them well, and they do not frighten me. But at that moment, unease ran deep in my veins, thinning my blood, making me feel light-headed and confused. Something bad was brewing. Something really bad … I set off at a run, ignoring scratches, bruises and obstacles. Twice I fell, but I got up again and kept running, the breath whistling in my throat, every muscle straining with effort, running as if the Evil One himself were after me.

  At last, I reached the good side of the path, but I did not stop to draw breath. The night was really closing in now and, even at the speed I was going, I would not be back at the cottage till it was completely dark. It was still overcast and there was no moon so it would soon be pitch-black. I ran and ran till my sides ached so much I had to stop. It was then that I saw it, above the trees, in the direction of the cottage.

  The sky was no longer dark. On the contrary, it was getting lighter, as though the night had already been and gone in the blink of an eye and now it was morning. Only, the light was not the grey, quiet light of morning …

  ‘Fire!’ I shouted desperately. Lightning must have struck somewhere near the clearing. The cottage could well be ablaze. Oh, what had I done, leaving Izolda on her own!

  I don’t remember how I managed to cover those last few miles of ground. I know only that, when I finally burst into our clearing, I could hardly even comprehend the unbelievable sight that presented itself to me, for dreadful images of Izolda surrounded by fire were still flooding my brain.

  ‘It took you long enough to return, Kasper Bator. I imagine the Princess thought you had left for good.’

  The words – the voice – made no sense to me. How could it be? How could it possibly be? I looked around the clearing, struck dumb as my mind struggled to adjust to the reality of what I could see.

  The clearing was filled with men holding torches – men in the uniform of Krainos. In the blink of an eye, my whole world shifted. Turning, I sprang upon the man who had spoken, going for his throat.

  ‘Izolda!’ I yelled. ‘Izolda! You villain! What have you done with Izolda?’ I was wild with rage and fear so strong that it took three men to drag me off him.

  Rubbing his throat, Commander Alek Los said harshly, ‘Bator, do you really want to make things worse for yourself?’

  ‘You black-hearted beast, where is Izolda?’ I howled, earning myself a painful cuff on the side of the head from one of the guards.

  ‘What have we done to the Princess of Night? Why, only returned her to the bosom of her loving family,’ said the Commander, smiling a thin, hateful smile. As I turned, following the direction of his gaze, I saw the most incomprehensible sight of all.

  Izolda, on the arm of a tall man dressed all in red, his black eyes cold and hard as stone, under a thatch of startlingly white-blond hair. Beside them were two giant guards. They were not in the uniform of Krainos but in the black armour of an alien race. I’d seen figures like those in history books. The Marshals, crack troops of the Prince of Night.

  ‘Surprised, Bator? Why should you be when betrayal is your own coin?’ came the Commander’s gruff voice, but I paid him no heed. All my attention was on the group advancing towards us. On Izolda, who was pale as a ghost, but whose eyes shone with a hectic gleam.

  ‘So, you are the young man who rescued my daughter.’ The Prince of Night’s voice was as soft as the Commander’s was harsh, and for a moment, I was fooled by it, imagining that somehow the horror that was pounding in my blood was nothing more than a misunderstanding. There had to be some simple explanation why the men at arms of both Krainos and Night were here.

  I nodded.

  ‘Then it appears I do owe you something in return,’ said the Prince.

  I heard him, but I was looking at Izolda. Why didn’t she speak? Why did she look at me like that? ‘Izolda … Izolda, what has happened?’

  Her eyes filled with tears but still
she did not speak. Her fingers fiddled with the pendant at her neck. I could not understand it. Shaking myself free, I took a step towards her but was immediately stopped by the Marshals.

  The Prince of Night shrugged. ‘The Princess is grateful. That is all you need to know. It is for this reason your life will be spared.’

  I stared at him. ‘I don’t understand,’ I said weakly.

  ‘We have come to a certain understanding, the Commander and I. All you need to know is this. My daughter will come home. You will stay. Your life will be spared. Beyond that, I cannot say.’

  ‘That is ours to determine,’ said the Commander, with a grim little chuckle.

  ‘You cannot do this,’ I said, finding a desperate courage. ‘We are pledged to each other. We love each other. Nothing can part us.’

  ‘Nothing?’ said the Commander, with a thin smile. ‘We certainly can. Isn’t that so, Your Royal Highness?’

  But the Prince of Night did not answer him. Instead, he fixed me with an expressionless stare. ‘You will never see her again. Not in this life, nor the next.’

  ‘No!’ I cried. ‘Izolda, speak to him! Tell him!’

  She looked at me, and now the tears were running down her cheeks. She opened her mouth as if to speak – and then closed it again. Her fingers tightened convulsively on each other, and in a flash I saw what was going on. She couldn’t speak. Her father had put a spell of silence on her. I saw the pleading look in her eyes and knew that, for the moment, I too must keep silent, or it would be the worse for her. She was not going with her father of her own free will; she was being obliged, because of some dirty deal that had been done between two enemy lords.