Sleeping Beauty's Daughters (3 page)

5

Of a Curse That Came to Pass

I
t was as strange that the tutor should eat with us as it was that he should have a bedroom on our floor of the castle. Ordinarily our tutors took their meals in the kitchen with the servants. This evening it was only the family and Master Julien at table. He stood and bowed when Luna and I entered the dining room. I curtsied in return, but Luna, with her usual lack of manners, did not.

Luna was convinced that he was as odd-looking as our last tutor, Master Fabrice, but I didn’t find this true at all. Master Fabrice had been a dreadfully disagreeable man. He sucked his teeth with a nasty sound as we worked on our lessons and had almost no patience at all with Luna. Somehow, a few months after he came to us, a ball of pine pitch became entangled in his thinning hair, and he had to go into town to have it all cut off. He never returned. I knew Luna was responsible, but when she tried to boast to me about it, I held up a hand.

“If I don’t know, I can’t say anything,” I advised her, and for once she was quiet.

Our new tutor was quite different. His green eyes were shrewd and intelligent. Luna whispered to me that his nose was as long as Pinocchio’s, but I thought it gave character to his face.

“Girls,” Papa said as we sat, “Master Julien comes to us highly recommended, for I know his father, King Josselin, quite well.”

A prince—and a tutor? I was amazed.

As always, Luna didn’t hesitate to blurt out what she was thinking. “
You
are a prince?” she demanded. “Why didn’t you tell me that was why you didn’t bow? And why are you teaching rather than ruling?”

I winced at her directness, but Master Julien didn’t seem to mind.

“I am the seventh of seven sons,” he explained as Jacquelle began to serve. “The likelihood that I will ever rule—well, you can imagine how slight it is. And frankly, I would not want it to be otherwise. I have an affinity for books and learning, so I thought to make my way in the world as a teacher. My father greatly values learning, and I have his blessing.”

“It is a noble calling,” Mama said with approval. She was still pale and drawn from the strains of the day.

“There are few paths open to a seventh son,” Master Julien said ruefully. “I am lucky that my abilities and my desire have both pointed me down this one.”

“We are lucky to have you!” Papa declared. “Perhaps your love of learning will rub off a bit on Luna, for her grasp of Latin is considerably less than it should be.”

Luna rolled her eyes and chanted, “
Amo, amas, amat.
Latin is such a dull language—and dead as well! What’s the use of learning it?”

“What is the use?” Master Julien seemed amused. “Why, it’s the basis of our language, and it was the language spoken in the greatest empire the world has ever known. To learn Latin is to learn your own history. What could be more useful?”

Unlike Luna, I was quite good at Latin, but I had never thought it especially useful or interesting. Master Julien made it sound almost . . . exciting.

Our dinner passed most pleasantly. Master Julien spoke with ease about every subject that Papa introduced, from falconry to the shipping lanes that led to our kingdom’s harbor town. He looked quizzically at the fowl and meat dishes that came to the table already cut, but he said nothing. We parted cheerfully, and I found myself looking forward to the next day’s lessons.

In the morning I took a little extra trouble with my dress and hair. Luna, with her sharp eyes, noticed immediately.

“Are you prettying yourself for Master Birdbeak?” she teased. I ignored her, but she persisted. “You don’t have to do anything to make him admire you, Aurora. Just gaze at him with your big blue eyes, and twine a strand of your golden hair around your finger, and he’ll be love-struck.”

“You are impossible!” I exclaimed, putting down my brush. She was almost too much to bear. Why did I have such an exasperating sister? But when she laughed at my vexed expression, I had to laugh too. He was just a tutor, though he was a prince. And no doubt Luna would chase him off quickly. There was no point in primping for him.

We were a little late because of my extra time before the mirror, so we hurried to the sunlit chamber that we called the classroom. I loved it there, though Luna insisted that the smell of chalk dust made her sneeze. To me, there was nothing better on a cold afternoon than curling up in a cozy chair before the fire with a book.

In the room’s center was a round table with an inlaid flower pattern in many types and colors of wood. The petals were a rose color that Papa said was ivorywood. The flower’s heart, in the very middle of the table, was made of a glowing golden wood. Sitting at the table, the three of us took turns reading Caesar aloud in Latin, using the most imperial voices we could manage. Luna had so much fun imitating a Roman emperor that she read far better than usual.

Next we practiced oratory, both of us giving the same speech on a ridiculous topic: “That pickled cucumbers are better, both in taste and healthfulness, than unpickled.” This was very different from the tedious subjects other tutors had assigned. I was better at speaking in measured tones, but Luna, after she had finished giggling over the idea of talking about pickles, won great praise for her dramatic delivery. She was quite pleased.

“But isn’t
what
we say more important than
how
it is said?” I asked, a little irritated at the tutor’s admiration of my sister.

“Both are crucial,” he explained to me. “If you speak without conviction, your words will have little weight.” Then he turned to Luna and went on, “If you become too emotional and stumble over your words, your listeners will not understand you. And if your argument is not sound, they will not be convinced.”

Then Master Julien wanted to see examples of our writing, so we pulled out our slates and chalk. The tutor was perplexed. “What are those?” he asked, pointing at our lengths of chalk.

“Have you never seen chalk before?” Luna’s tone made it clear what she thought of his ignorance. She rolled her eyes at me; we’d gone through the same explanation with every tutor we’d had.

“The cliffs to our south are made of chalk,” I said quickly, trying to make up for her discourtesy. “It makes a fine writing instrument, especially on dark slate.” I wrote a few letters to show him.

“I see.” Master Julien was intrigued. “When your father engaged me, he told me that you wrote without pens. I wondered how it was done.”

He picked up a piece of chalk. After he wrote on the slate, I showed him how to rub it clean. “But how do you write your correspondence? Or do you send slate invitations and announcements to your friends? That would be quite a heavy burden for the post carrier!”

Luna laughed, and I replied, “We don’t send many letters. Or any at all, in fact. You can see we are quite . . . isolated here. We rarely entertain. We don’t really have any friends.”

Master Julien looked astonished, and I could see that he wanted to ask many questions. But he held back, and said only, “Your father has some unusual ideas! Still, if this is what he wants, I can write with chalk myself.”

We stopped for lunch, and then spent the afternoon on history and a little mathematics, for Master Julien wanted to see where we were in our studies. Luna surprised him with her ability at calculations. Numbers had always been her strength, while I tended to prefer the liberal arts, especially history and literature.

We dined together again that night, and spent a lovely evening in the conservatory, where I played my newest piece on the pianoforte and sang—quite well, I thought. When darkness fell, Master Julien took us outside and pointed out constellations in the night sky.

“We will study astronomy as well,” Master Julien told us, and Luna said, excited, “I’ve always wanted to learn about the stars!”

The next morning Luna and I came into the classroom early, before Master Julien. I sat down and began to study our day’s Latin. A loud thump made me look up from my book to see what Luna was doing.

She had pulled Master Julien’s pack off one of the classroom shelves and was already rifling through it, tugging out books, rolled parchments, a peculiar object with beads on a wire. . . .

“Luna!” I said. “Leave that be—it doesn’t belong to you!”

But she ignored me, blowing into a flutelike musical instrument that squawked like a crow. Finally, she pulled out a long feather and a little silver container. The feather was striking, an iridescent blue that seemed black until the light hit it. Then it shone a deep indigo.

“What on earth is that for?” I asked, curious despite myself. “Is it part of a nature study? Let me see it.”

I put down my Latin text as Luna carried the feather to the table. She stroked it, turning it this way and that in the sunlight that streamed through the long windows. Then she stuck it through her curls, where it dipped dramatically over her eye. Intrigued, I plucked it from her hair to investigate it more closely.

The quill itself was hollow. Of course—it was a quill pen! The silver jar had to be an inkpot. I had heard of quill pens but had never been able to imagine how a feather could hold ink. Now I could see that a little of the ink would be drawn up into the hollow tube, and come out at the point as one wrote. The point—it was so sharp. As sharp as a knife . . .

At that moment Luna too noticed the sharp point and cried out, “No!” Her voice was high with terror. I jumped in alarm as she reached over to grab the pen from me. The quill slipped in my grasp, and its pointed end pierced my finger. I stared, aghast, as a single drop of my crimson blood fell from my hand to the table, where it lay glistening like a ruby in the center of the inlaid wood flower.

6

Of a Partner and a Plan

I
t was only one drop of blood. It seemed so little to do so much. Immediately, though, I felt a wave of sleepiness pass over me. Luna leaped up and lunged across the table, pinching me hard.

“Ouch!” I cried, jerking back into alertness.

“Princess Luna, what are you doing?” Master Julian spoke from the doorway.

Luna turned in a rage to him. “How dare you?” she demanded in a voice so low and controlled that I hardly recognized it. “Remove your disguise, you foul creature. Show yourself to us!”

My mouth dropped open. Master Julien looked utterly bewildered. He stammered but could not form a sentence. Then another surge of drowsiness hit me, and my eyes closed. Luna pinched me once more.

The tutor looked from one of us to the other like a nervous bird. Finally he managed, “What is wrong, Princesses? What has happened?”

Luna snorted and slapped me smartly on the hand as my shoulders slumped. I straightened quickly. Ignoring Master Julien, she cried, “Sister, the curse has come to pass. You must stay awake. You must! We’ll find a way to save you, but you cannot fall asleep. Stand up, we must go. Now!”

Her words seemed to be coming from very far away. I felt so strange. It wasn’t like being ordinarily sleepy or even truly exhausted. It was as if Sleep were alive, a being of irresistible fascination who called to me over and over,
Come! Come to me and all will be well!
It was a terrible struggle not to give in. I wanted more than anything to close my eyes, lay down my head, and do as Sleep entreated.

“But I’m so tired,” I moaned. “Please let me rest my head on the table for a moment. Just a little nap . . .”

Luna stamped her foot in frustration. “Have you forgotten Mama’s story? Your nap will last a hundred years! I’ll be in my grave when you wake”—I shuddered to hear it—“and my children will be as well. Stand up, Aurora, now!”

She supported me as I struggled to my feet, wobbling unsteadily. Master Julien stepped forward, and Luna confronted him ferociously.

“Get out of the way, you monster. My father will have your head for this!”

Master Julien protested, “Princess Luna, I swear I have no idea what has happened. Please believe me. If something is wrong with your sister, you must let me help you. I beg you!”

Luna gave my arm an extra pinch and focused her attention on the tutor. “Where did you get the quill pen?” she demanded.

Baffled, he replied, “I always carry a pen with me. Your father said you did not use them, but I brought one for myself.” Then he thought for a moment. “No, wait,” he said. “I remember now. This pen I purchased in Vittray, on my journey here. I needed a new one—the point on mine was worn down.”

“In . . . Vittray? From which shop?” I asked, the words emerging shakily. Vittray was the town nearest our palace, a bustling harbor and the seat of Papa’s government. He met with his councilors there and conducted the business of ruling his kingdom in a grand chamber on the town square. I didn’t know what shops the town had, for Luna and I had never been permitted to visit. But I had heard from Papa and from the servants that there were businesses of all sorts, selling and buying, sewing and cobbling, baking and brewing.

“I did not buy it in a shop,” Master Julien recalled. “It was market day, and there was a stand in the square selling quills and inkpots and parchment. I believe there were stacks of books behind the counter as well.” His answer seemed genuine.

“And who was the merchant?” Luna pressed him.

His brow furrowed as he tried to remember. “It was a woman,” he said. “I could not tell how old she was. She wore the hood on her cloak up, and her face was in shadow. She sold me the quill and the ink at a good price. I had thought the feather especially fine. I’d never seen one like it before and could not resist. But . . .” He stopped uncertainly.

I looked at Luna, and my lips quivered. “It was Manon, I’m sure of it,” I said in a near whisper.

Luna turned back to Master Julien. “That old lady was a fairy, an evil fiend. She tricked you, you foolish man! Unless it is you yourself who is the wicked one, and all this is just a lie.”

“It is no falsehood,” he replied firmly. “I am not a fairy but a human, a prince, and a teacher. That is all I am.” The simple words, and the way he said them, sounded like the truth.

“My sister has been cursed,” Luna told him. “If she falls asleep, she will sleep for a century. We must keep her awake.”

Our tutor’s eyes widened in disbelief, but then his face began to fade from my sight as my lids lowered. I yawned. I had never in my life felt so tired. Luna pinched me again, and I blinked.

“I will be black and blue from head to foot,” I complained woozily.

“We must get her walking!” Luna cried in desperation. She pulled me forward, and I stumbled after her as she forced me to walk the length of the room. Master Julien hurried after us.

“Who put the curse on her, and when?” he demanded.

“Our relative, a fairy named Manon, cursed her just after her birth,” Luna answered, dragging me around the table. “I’m sure she sold you the quill. She placed the same curse on our mother.”

He gaped at her. “What are you saying? Do you mean that your mother slept for a hundred years?”

Luna nodded, yanking me upward as I tried to sink into a chair.

“Wait.” Master Julien stopped by the window to ponder. “There was a story I once heard about a princess enchanted in that way. It was an old tale, and I did not believe it . . . but could that possibly have been your mother?”

“Possibly,” Luna said shortly. “The original curse was death, but it was reduced by another fairy, our great-great-great-godmother Emmeline.”

I could feel myself slumping against Luna, and she poked me hard. The pain roused me, but it was Luna who let out a sudden gasp.

“That’s it!” she cried. “We must find Emmeline and beg her to help us!”

“But . . . ,” I began. My thought floated away, but I managed to retrieve it. “But we don’t know where she is.”

“Perhaps Mama has some idea,” Luna said.

“Mama said . . . she said her parents looked for Emmeline. They never found her,” I reminded her. “She may not even be alive—it all happened more than a hundred years ago!”

“Fairies are immortal, or nearly so,” Master Julien said with certainty. “You must ask the king and queen where to find her.”

That idea woke me a bit, and I looked at Luna with alarm. She knew what I was thinking.

“We cannot tell them what has happened,” Luna said. “Mama will be overcome. This has been her greatest fear, her most terrible nightmare, since Aurora was born.”

“But we must tell them!” Master Julien said. “Surely they will know what to do.”

“No,” I protested, my tongue thick in my mouth. “Please, don’t force us to tell them. They’ve spent their whole lives trying to make sure we were safe. If they were to find out . . .” My voice trailed off.

“And they will blame you,” Luna added rashly. “Papa will have you arrested. He will put you in the deepest dungeon. He will behead you!”

“Luna, stop,” I said faintly. Master Julien paced the room, lost in thought, and Luna followed him, tugging me along behind. My feet kept tangling with each other, but Luna made sure I didn’t fall.

Finally the tutor said, “Then you will have to find a way to ask your parents about your godmother as if it were an ordinary conversation. Surely they would not think it strange if you were curious about her.”

Luna squeezed my hand tightly and said confidently, “I think they would not. It’s worth trying. But can you keep my sister awake until I return?”

“We will keep walking,” Master Julien said.

“No more pinching!” I begged, and he smiled at me, though his face was anxious.

“I promise, Princess. Here, take my arm and walk with me. And hurry!” he directed Luna as she transferred my grip to his arm.

“I shall,” Luna said, dashing away.

Master Julien and I walked as we waited for her to return—miles, I was sure, around and around the room. My legs felt as if they had weights on them, and my feet dragged on the floor.

“Princess,” he said, pulling me upright as I tripped on a rug, “how have you managed with this curse hanging over you all your life?”

My thoughts moved like molasses inside my head. I had to reflect long before I replied. “I . . . I didn’t know about it until just the other day. And we grew up . . . we grew up protected. But we didn’t know why. It was just the way we lived. We saw nothing strange in it. There were no sharp objects. . . .” Then I forgot what I was saying.

“Ah,” Master Julien said. “No knives to cut your meat. No lances for the guards at your gate. No pens—” He broke off.

“No pens,” I agreed. “But that . . . that was not your fault.”

I couldn’t tell how long it was before Luna burst back into the classroom, red-faced and panting. It felt like years had passed, ages of trying to stay awake.

“Mama is almost sure that Emmeline is still alive!” she exclaimed. “But no one knows exactly where she lives. Years ago, there were rumors that she had hidden herself on an island. I had to stop asking, though—Mama got very pale and I was afraid she would faint again. That’s all I learned.”

“That is rather vague,” Master Julien pointed out. “An island in a lake, or the sea? Or in a river, like the Lady of Shalott?”

“The Lady of who?” Luna snapped. “Look around you! Surely it’s an island in the sea.”

“Luna, you are very ill-mannered,” I murmured. “You should remember the Lady of Shalott. She lived in a tower on an island and loved Sir Lancelot, and she was cursed . . . like me.” I tried again to sit, but Master Julien pulled me forward.

“Oh, Aurora!” Luna cried frantically. “Master Julien, how shall we keep her awake?”

The tutor stopped walking when he heard the tremor in her voice. “I’ve had an idea,” he said. “Do not despair, Princesses. There is an herb I have read of in my studies that is said to cause sleeplessness. I do not know how long it can be safely used, but it may help while we try to think of something. In the book I read, it was called devil’s shrub.”

I shook my head. I had never heard of it.

“It is a woody shrub that grows near cliffs. It has dark blue berries. Some may call it touch-me-not.”

“Ah,” I said. “I know that plant. When Mama is tired and listless, Cook will sometimes brew tea from the roots for her. I believe there is some in the kitchen.”

“If Master Julien asks for it, Cook will be less suspicious,” Luna said. I had to agree.

“Very well, I’ll go,” Master Julien said. “I’ll tell her I have had a poor night’s sleep and need something to revive me. When I come back, we will try to make a plan.” He hurried from the room.

The minute he was out of sight, Luna turned to me, her face eager. “Aurora, listen. As soon as you drink the devil’s shrub, we must leave.”

I blinked. I couldn’t imagine what she was talking about.

“We must find Emmeline!” she said. “We will go to the beach and find a boat and sail to her island. We will track her down and make her remove the curse!”

“Why, you are mad!” There were so many parts of her plan that were wild and unworkable that I couldn’t think where to start picking it apart.

“Perhaps I am,” she replied. “But still, we must try. Otherwise . . .”

I flinched. Otherwise, indeed.

“But how shall we get to the beach?” Sleep pressed on me more heavily every minute. “And what if there is no boat there? We cannot sail a boat. And we don’t know where Emmeline’s island is. Or—”

“Stop,” Luna commanded. “We can’t bother about all that now. We must just go. We’ll worry about the rest later.”

Her certainty was so powerful that I was swept away by it. Somewhere in my weary mind was the knowledge that I should take care of Luna and keep her from danger, not the other way around. But I had no strength to protest. “What of Mama and Papa?” I asked helplessly.

“We’ll leave a note,” Luna said. “Hide it, but not too well. That way, when our disappearance is discovered . . .”

“Poor Mama. She will be frantic!” Still, even in my dazed state I could see that Luna was right. I marveled at the way she took charge, when usually she couldn’t plan even an instant ahead.

Master Julien came back into the classroom then. He carried a teapot and a single cup on a tray.

“Cook made me some tea, and I removed the vial of devil’s shrub when her back was turned,” he said, showing us the little glass bottle. Luna took it and passed it to me. I held on to it tightly. The dark powder looked like dirt, but it was my lifeline.

Master Julien poured the tea, and I drank a cupful quickly, burning my tongue. I grimaced at the taste. But the change was immediate. I could feel my back straightening and the color rushing to my cheeks. The fog in my head cleared away almost completely.

“Oh, that’s much better!” I exclaimed. Luna clapped her hands, and Master Julien looked relieved.

“I think that I should be the one to try to find Emmeline,” our tutor said then. “I will walk to Vittray myself and make inquiries. It would not be a good idea for you to come upon the woman who sold me that pen, but I can ask after her without arousing suspicion. Then, if I find her, perhaps I can force her to tell me where Emmeline’s island is. If anyone knows, it would be Manon.”

Luna and I exchanged a glance. “Are you certain that is the best plan?” I asked.

“I must do something,” Master Julien said. “It is my fault this curse has come to pass—my pen that caused it. I cannot sit by and let you suffer.”

“I’m sure you’re right. We have no real choice,” Luna said. “We’ll wait here for your return.” I marveled at her coolness.

“Can you keep your sister awake for a few hours while I am gone?” Master Julien asked Luna.

“Of course I can,” Luna assured him. “I’ll give her more tea. We have the vial of devil’s shrub.”

“Then I will get my cloak and be off. I will try to be back before nightfall.” Master Julien hurried from the room.

“Well,” Luna said, looking after him, “if he finds Manon, she will probably turn him into a fish, or a turnip. For a man of superior learning, he’s not all that smart.” Then she turned swiftly to me and asked, “Do you know the ladder that leads down to the strand a few miles north of here?”