Princess of the Silver Woods (Twelve Dancing Princesses) (19 page)

“Forgive me, Your Highness, but Westfalian prayers seem very odd,” Olga said, helping Petunia into bed.

“I would imagine that they do,” was all Petunia answered. She could see by Pansy’s face that her sister had understood the purpose of her prayer.

“If I may ask, Your Highness, what are the princes studying?” The maid’s brow was creased with confusion. “I thought that they were past the age of school.”

“They’re studying magic,” Pansy said, before Petunia could think of an evasion.

She looked at the maid quickly to see how Olga reacted. Olga snorted and rolled her eyes, as though Pansy were just being silly.

“Now could you please turn out the light?” Pansy snapped. “And don’t you dare take those sandwiches, I might want one later!”

Pansy rolled over and went to sleep, but Petunia stayed
awake long after Olga left, and long after Oliver crawled out from under the bed, grabbed some sandwiches, and slipped out the door. She hoped that he was going to Galen and Rose’s room, and she hoped, too, that he hadn’t known she was awake when he had leaned over her and kissed her hair. She wanted to savor that touch forever.

Conspirator

Oliver had never had someone pray to him before. It had been slightly amusing until he realized that if Petunia was frightened enough of her maid to use such a ruse, Oliver really should be on his guard. When they first met, Petunia had pointed a pistol directly at his face without wavering for an instant, yet she was being terrorized by this Olga.

Did the King Under Stone have human servants outside of his kingdom who were helping him? If he did, this maid was certainly suspect. Oliver’s experience with servants was limited, but it seemed to him that a good lady’s maid wouldn’t order her mistress around in quite the way that Olga did with Petunia and Pansy.

Once he was sure that the maid was gone and the princesses were asleep, Oliver rolled out from under the bed. He found the plate of sandwiches and shoved one in his mouth whole, wrapping two more in a napkin and stowing them in a pocket.

Chewing and swallowing quickly, he leaned over Petunia
and kissed her inky curls. He just couldn’t help himself. His eyes had grown accustomed to the dark after a long day spent under the bed, so he could see her white face nestled in the blackness of her hair. He was sure she would wake if he touched her face, so he was careful only to press his lips to her soft hair, breathing in its scent of flowers and cinnamon, before he slipped out of the room.

He made his way down the hall, not sure where to find Galen or Heinrich. His every nerve was on edge—even though he was invisible—in case he stumbled upon Grigori. He listened at each of the doors, hearing nothing, until at the fourth door there was the sound of a woman crying and a man’s voice speaking in soothing tones. He hated to interrupt such a scene but didn’t know what else to do, so he softly knocked.

The voices went silent, then the man called out, asking who was there. It was Prince Heinrich, and some of Oliver’s tension drained away.

“It’s Oliver,” he said, as loudly as he dared.

The door was opened immediately, and Heinrich peered out into the corridor. Seeing nothing, he stepped back, opening the door wider. Oliver slipped in, tapping the prince on the shoulder so that Heinrich would know where he was. The prince quickly shut the door and locked it.

Distinctly uncomfortable, Oliver undid the cloak and watched his body reappear. Princess Lily was sitting up in the bed in her nightgown, her eyes red from crying and her face pale and thin. Her hair, a rich dark brown, was loose and fell nearly to the bedclothes.

“I’m so sorry to disturb you,” Oliver said, staring at his boots. “But I have information, and I needed to give it to you right away. I told Petun—Princess Petunia—but she hasn’t been able to speak to any of you privately, so I thought I would come myself.”

“You’d better fetch Rose and Galen,” Lily said to her husband.

Heinrich left so silently he might as well have been invisible.

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to put my dressing gown on,” Lily said.

“No, I don’t—oh!” Oliver quickly turned his back to the princess.

He heard her slip out of the bed and the rustle of her putting on a dressing gown. There was a flapping noise as she put on slippers as well.

“Thank you,” she said.

Oliver turned around to find her in a lavender silk dressing gown. She expertly braided her long hair and tied a ribbon around the end, smiling at him as he watched in a sort of dazed fascination.

“Petunia’s hair is too curly to braid,” she said conversationally.

Oliver wasn’t sure why, but that was what finally made him blush. Not barging in on her and her husband during a private moment. Not seeing her in her nightgown, but her mentioning Petunia’s hair.

The hair he had just kissed.

He made a noncommittal noise and almost collapsed with
relief when the door opened a heartbeat later to admit Heinrich and the crown prince and princess. Galen was still dressed, though he was wearing a plain dark suit and not evening clothes. Seeing him, Oliver realized that Heinrich was dressed in much the same unobtrusive manner.

Rose was in a dark-red dressing gown with Far Eastern embroidery. She gave Oliver a warm smile without a hint of self-consciousness as she sat on the bed. Lily sat beside her, and they all looked expectantly at Oliver, who cleared his throat.

“I came to make sure that Princess Petunia and the rest of you were all right,” he began, wondering how much of an idiot he was going to feel like before this was all through. “I went to the hothouse I told you about before, the one that I saw the shadows coming from, and I looked around to see if I could find anything.”

“I take it that you did,” Galen said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Oliver said, encouraged. “At first I didn’t think there was anything to find, but then I noticed that the floor was swept clean from the table in the middle to the door, but it didn’t look like anyone had been in the hot house since I was there two weeks ago. When I looked closer, I saw that someone had written on the floor with wax, but I couldn’t decipher the writing.”

The two princes exchanged looks.

“Do you … want me to show you?” Oliver offered, wondering if they were now about to thank him and then send him
away. He wasn’t going to leave Petunia, not while he still felt a pounding in his head that told him she was in danger.

“Yes,” Galen said. “Just let me get something to light our way and we’ll go.” He took some of the tall white candles from a candelabrum on top of the desk and put them in a bag slung over his shoulder. “We’d better go out the window,” he said.

“Do you want to wear the invisibility cloak?” Oliver held it out to him.

“Oh, no, but you had better,” Galen said, clapping Oliver on the shoulder. “If Heinrich and I are seen, we’re still invited guests. But you’re supposed to be in Bruch.”

“Have you been here all day, then?” Rose asked, getting up.

“Um, yes,” Oliver said, praying that she wouldn’t ask him where he’d been hiding.

“Are you hungry? Do you want us to find you something to eat?”

“Oh, no,” Oliver said. “I have a couple of sandwiches … I brought with me.” He patted his bulging pocket.

“That’s very clever of you,” Rose said. She had an amused expression on her face, though, that made Oliver wonder if she suspected where they had come from.

He bowed to the two princesses and put on the cloak, glad that they couldn’t see his face anymore. Galen had turned out all but one small lamp and was pulling back the curtains so that they could go out the window.

“Here we go,” Heinrich said with a groan.

When all three had reached the ground, they set off across
the lawns, Heinrich moving surprisingly quickly despite his limp. Oliver almost had to trot to keep up with them, the rustling he made crossing the winter-dead lawns telling the princes where he was. When they reached the little glass- paned house at the end, the one that Oliver was starting to think of as the Shadow House, he was panting, and Heinrich was rubbing his left thigh as though it pained him.

“Were you badly injured, in the war?” Oliver couldn’t help but ask.

“An Analousian bullet lodged in the bone,” Heinrich said. “But it’s mostly stiff these days.”

“We’ll need to do this swiftly,” Galen warned them both, handing out candles. “Anyone looking will see the lights through the glass walls, and they’ll come to investigate at once. It will be a bit hard to explain what we’re doing.” He laughed.

As soon as they were all inside, Oliver tossed aside the cloak while Heinrich took matches out of his pocket and lit their candles. Oliver immediately squatted down and showed them the wax writing on the floor. It was easier to see by candlelight, to Oliver’s relief. He’d been afraid that it would be too dark. Or worse, that he’d been imagining it all along.

“Here, hold this.”

The crown prince handed his candle to Oliver. He got down until his nose was nearly touching the tiles, while Oliver and Heinrich held the candles high. Galen moved across the floor like a crab, studying the writing.

“Can you read it?” Oliver finally asked.

“In a way,” Galen said. “It’s not so much writing as a combination of words and symbols that form a powerful spell.”

“What—what kind of spell?”

“Is it a summoning spell?” The shadows made Heinrich’s face look hard and old.

“Worse,” the crown prince said shortly.

“It’s a gateway.” “A gateway to what?” Oliver’s voice shook when he said it, but he wasn’t ashamed.

“A gateway to the Kingdom Under Stone,” Galen said. “Or at least, a gateway
out
of it.”

“We can’t use it to get there?”

Heinrich sounded disappointed, and Oliver wondered if he was a little bit mad. Who would want to go to the Kingdom Under Stone?

“No, I think it can only bring the princes out, and not in their real forms,” Galen said. Oliver thought he saw him sniff at the wax.

“Where—what—where
is
the Kingdom Under Stone?” Oliver wasn’t sure how to ask the question, or what question he wanted to ask.

“The Kingdom Under Stone is the prison where Wolfram von Aue and his followers were exiled,” the crown prince explained. “He was too powerful to be killed at the time, so he was locked into a place between worlds. I was fortunate that he had expended so much energy building his palace and stretching his bonds in order to father his sons. I was able to kill him with blessed silver inscribed with his real name, something that wouldn’t have worked two hundred years earlier.”

“I see,” Oliver said, though he wasn’t sure that he did. “So, his sons can only appear as shadows here in the … real world?”

“Yes. Although they’re not really shadows, they’re … well, they’re not really shadows,” Galen said with a small laugh.

“Could one have killed me?”

The crown prince looked up at Oliver, all traces of laughter gone. “Yes.”

He took a clasp knife from his pocket and unfolded it. Grimacing at the sound it made, he began to scrape away the wax writing. “The princes were born here, but the king whisked them away moments later, otherwise they would have died when the sun rose. At night, though, if they can create a gate, they can reach our world in their shadowy forms.”

“Why would you want to go to their kingdom, Your Highness?” Oliver looked at Heinrich, who also took out a knife and squatted down.

“To kill them,” Heinrich said, his voice flat.

“Barring that,” Galen said, pointing to a tile for his cousin to scratch at. “To seal them in their prison for good and all.”

“Is that possible?”

“I did it once before,” Galen said. “But my lock is breaking, or so I assume, judging by what’s happening to my wife and her sisters. These shared nightmares,” he went on, shaking his head, “they shouldn’t be possible. And now a gateway, to allow the princes to leave … it’s only a matter of time until they can make a gateway to draw the girls in. We must reseal the prison.”

“I don’t want to reseal their prison,” Heinrich said, beginning on another tile. “I want to kill them.”

“Heinrich, you know that killing them may not be the best option,” Galen said in a quiet voice.

“Fine then,” Heinrich said. “I won’t kill
all
of them. Just enough to make it easier to contain the rest.”

“I want to help you,” Oliver said.

“Why?” Galen looked up at him. “Because of Petunia?”

Oliver was relieved that the prince didn’t seem to be skeptical about his conviction. He simply looked like he wanted to know, and so did Heinrich, when Oliver dared to look at the other prince. Oliver was very aware that Heinrich had known his father. Had known him better than Oliver had, in fact.

“Because of her,” Oliver said at last. “Even though I have only met her twice, really … I just …”

“I risked my life to save Rose after only speaking with her twice,” Galen said with a small smile.

Encouraged, Oliver went on. “But also because of my family. If it hadn’t been for the King Under Stone and the trouble he caused with the worn-out dancing slippers, I would have been able to claim my title and take care of my people without resorting to banditry.”