Swan Sister (4 page)

Khan went to the gates, and just as Golden Fur had said, they were opened to receive him. But no sooner had he set foot inside the courtyard than he was surrounded by the Guardians. There were four of them, and though they were longhaired beasts, they were richly dressed and reared back on two legs, towering over him. They had flat faces, their eyes emerald disks, and their tufted ears pricked forward from a ruff of silvery fur. They howled and hissed at him, and though their sharp teeth and gleaming claws frightened him, he did not draw his sword. They circled him, tails twitching, until, satisfied by his stillness, they sat back on their haunches and licked their terrible claws.

“Join us at our table,” the largest Guardian rumbled in a deep voice.

“You honor me,” Khan replied humbly.

“Well, at least this one has manners,” the second Guardian whispered to the third.

“Mannered or not, they all taste the same,” snarled the fourth, and a cold drop of sweat prickled down Khan’s back.

They entered the Great Hall, where a fire roared in the hearth. Serving women rested on their haunches,
pulling thin sheets of bread off the baking stones. Low tables were set with golden plates filled with rice, pine nuts, cinnamon, and raisins. Crystal goblets brimmed with steaming sweet tea. Silken pillows and thick carpets covered the floors. On the walls hung tapestries bearing scenes of royal hunts, the hawks flying over the scrubby forests of the desert hills.

Khan sat, being careful to note how the Guardians arranged themselves at the low tables.

“Well, my prince,” rumbled the largest Guardian, “you shall cut the capon.” The Guardian passed Khan a tray on which sat a whole roasted bird with plump breasts and brown crackling skin. The head was decorated with cherries and plumes of peacock feathers.

Khan carved first the head and, placing it on a golden plate, gave it to the largest Guardian, seated at the first table on his right hand. “To the father goes the head, for he must guide the family well,” he murmured.

Then Khan carved the back and presented it to the Guardian with two gold earrings in the tips of her ears, seated at a smaller table to his left. Henna stained her whiskers red. “To the mother goes the back, for she shoulders the cares of her family and sees to their needs.”

Next he carved the legs and passed them to a Guardian with silver-capped teeth seated to the right of the largest Guardian. “To the son go the legs, for he must run to follow his parents’ commands.”

Khan took the two wings and gave those to the Guardian with only one earring in the tip of her ear. “To
the daughter go wings that she may fly away from her family to marriage.”

“And you, my prince,” rumbled the largest Guardian, “will you not eat?”

Khan was hungry, the sight of so much food enticing, but Golden Fur had warned him to keep his wits, and he knew that the food of the Guardians was not meant for mortals. He politely refused. At that the Guardians sprang up from their seats, hissing angrily and baring their sharp teeth. The servants cowered against the walls as the Guardians arched their shoulders and flattened their ears. Khan tensed, expecting the slash of those claws. But in a moment they were gone, disappearing into a cloud of blue smoke.

With them went the room’s grandeur. All its rich furnishings were returned to stone. Even the wonderful food dissolved into desert plants with thick leaves and stout thorns. Brown lizards scurried along the walls where once the servants had sat.

Khan left the Great Hall, surprised to discover that outside it was already night. As he sat down by the spring the creature in his pocket stirred. She slipped out and, standing on a stone, began to wash her face.

Then she stopped, and the black eyes twinkled at him. “You have succeeded at the fist task,” she said. “But now you must sleep, and I will watch over you.”

Khan needed little coaxing, for he was very tired, and soon he lay fast asleep beside the spring. He dreamed again of the woman with raven hair and almond-scented
skin. She spoke to him this time, and her voice was musical. She sat beside him and, in the soft breeze, her hair brushed against his face. Khan stirred and then realized it was Golden Fur’s whiskers tickling his ear.

“Wake now, good prince,” she said urgently. “You must prepare for the second task.”

“I dreamed of the princess,” Khan said, taking a piece of bread and cheese.

“And how did you find her?” asked Golden Fur.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Could you love her?”

“Perhaps.”

“Good. Then listen again to the wisdom of your heart, and do not be swayed by the Guardians’ generosity.”

Khan smiled at the pretty creature, offered her his palm, into which she climbed, and then tucked her into his pocket. Khan went to the gates, and as before, they were opened to him. The Guardians appeared, and this time they were friendly, clapping their heavy paws on his shoulders in greeting. Their tails brushed against Khan’s legs, sweeping the dust from his boots.

“Come,” rumbled the largest Guardian. “Today you will choose a token from our treasure chamber.”

The Guardians led Khan to a room, and as he entered he was nearly blinded by the light of so many jewels.

“Perhaps this never-empty chest of gold to keep your love in splendor,” suggested the largest Guardian.

“Or a crown to circle her head,” said the Guardian with the two earrings in her tufted ears.

“You could protect her against all enemies with this sword,” exclaimed the Guardian with the silver-capped teeth. He slashed at the air with a whistling sword of polished steel.

“A gold ring for her finger,” sighed the last Guardian with the one earring in her pointed ear. She dangled a ring with a smoky topaz from one claw.

Khan stared in awe at the magnificent wealth of the treasure chamber and felt sorely tempted. Never in his life had he seen such riches. Yet as he walked through the glittering room the jewels seemed cold, like shards of colored ice. He didn’t touch them but did as Golden Fur bid him and waited for the wisdom of his heart to choose. He searched among the splendid jewels until at last something caught his eye. “I will take this,” he said, holding up a pomegranate, its rind tough as rust-colored leather.

“Is that all?” demanded the largest Guardian.

“It is all I want,” the prince replied.

The Guardians howled and spat, flames igniting in their emerald eyes. But as before, they disappeared into a cloud of blue smoke. The bright jewels became rocks, the sword a twisted stick, and the chest of gold held withered leaves. Only the pomegranate in his hand remained.

Khan left the castle and saw again that it was night. He sat by the spring, waiting for Golden Fur to wake. She wriggled free of his pocket and sat on a stone to wash her face. When she was done, she crossed her paws and sniffed the air.

“You have the pomegranate,” she said. “Open it and see what is inside.”

Khan pried away the leathery rind and saw that the rows of seeds were carved from chips of rubies.

“Those are tears shed by the princess,” said Golden Fur.

Khan gathered them into a cloth.

“Do they not please you?” Golden Fur asked.

“I would rather be poor than gain wealth by her unhappiness,” Khan sighed.

He lay down to sleep, and soon he was dreaming of the princess. Her long black hair flowed over her shoulder, and her starlit eyes captivated his heart. In his dream they walked through a flowering garden, sharing their innermost thoughts. Khan bent his head to kiss the princess, but instead of her lips he felt the soft tickling of Golden Fur’s whiskers on his cheek.

“Rise, my prince, for today is the last trial.”

Khan woke and saw a tray of bread and cheese. He ate sparingly and drank a small sip of the water.

“I dreamed of the princess again,” he said.

“And how did you find her?”

“More beautiful than before,” he replied.

“Do you love her?”

“Yes,” Khan answered. “I think I do.” He rose, eager to be done with the final task. “What must I do?” he asked Golden Fur.

She lowered her head, her whiskers quivering. “There is nothing I can say, for no other suitor has yet come so far.”

Khan gathered Golden Fur into his palm. He smelled the sweet scent of almonds on her fur. “Don’t worry, small one.” He tucked her into his pocket, and with the bold courage that comes from love he strode through the castle gates.

The Guardians were there to meet him, seated on jeweled thrones. Over their shoulders they wore mantles made from golden fur. The largest Guardian, his black-tipped ears flat against his skull, rose to greet Khan.

“For your final task, my prince, we demand that you bring us one more pelt of fur to complete my mantle.” The Guardian held up his cloak and showed Khan the bare spot at the hem about the size of Golden Fur’s back. “Do this, and the princess and her kingdom are yours. Fail, and we will tear you apart with our claws.”

Khan’s blood ran cold. In his pocket Golden Fur trembled. Slowly Khan began to search the rooms of the castle, wondering what he should do. The Guardians followed close behind him, their claws clicking against the stones, their breath hot on his neck.

When he came to the last room, Khan realized it was useless to pretend any longer. He turned to the Guardians with a heavy heart. There were no other creatures with golden fur but the one hiding in his pocket, and he knew as he faced the Guardians that he would not betray her. He thought of the princess and her sad smile, and though he loved her, he hoped she would understand.

“Well?” hissed the largest Guardian.

“I cannot find the creature you seek,” Khan answered simply.

“Are you sure?” asked the second Guardian. She lifted her nose and sniffed the air. “I can smell it close by,” she growled.

“No,” Khan said, tightening his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Without warning, Golden Fur wriggled out of his pocket. She scampered quickly across the tiled floor.

The largest Guardian drew back one huge paw, claws extended to strike. Khan threw himself between the great paw and Golden Fur. The sharp claws cut deep, scoring five crimson lines across his chest. Khan fell, the pain blinding him to all but the sight of Golden Fur trapped between the claws of the second Guardian, her earrings jingling as she ducked her head to nip at the creature beneath her paw.

“No!” Khan shouted and, despite his pain, released his sword and struck the largest Guardian in the chest as the monster pounced. To Khan’s amazement his sword passed through the Guardian with ease, and the Guardian’s hollow head, still snarling, rolled across the floor. Blue smoke steamed from the depths of the headless body. The Guardian with silver-capped teeth attacked Khan, and with a renewed courage Khan countered with his sword, sparks flying as the edge of his sword slid against the polished claws. But as before, Khan’s sword slashed through the body of the howling Guardian, and his form split apart like the two halves of a gourd. Scorpions and centipedes rushed from the empty husk.

“Release Golden Fur,” Khan shouted as he stood, his
legs trembling and weak, and faced the third Guardian. She hunched her shoulders, her fur bristled, and her twitching tail whipped up a storm of dust, blinding him. Khan raised his arm to shield his face from the driving sand and saw, just in time, the emerald disks of her eyes as she lunged for him. He slipped to the side and drove his sword into her pelt. Steam hissed and coiled in the sand, and she crumpled like old paper before his astonished eyes. The last Guardian fled the hall, but as she leaped across the threshold, she burst into flames and were quickly turned into black ash.

And then around him, as swiftly as the desert dissolves one dune into another, the castle and all its domes and towers crumbled into fine sand and was tossed into the wind.

There was no one left except himself and Golden Fur curled in a ball on the edge of a small oasis. Khan heard the anxious whinnying of his horse, and he called to the stallion not to fear. His legs were weak and he sank to his knees, the blood from his wounds staining the front of his shirt. He picked up Golden Fur gently. She lifted her small head, her black-bead eyes damp with tiny glistening tears that turned red as pomegranate seeds.

“Ah, Prince,” she said, “your courage has saved me. Take us to the spring.”

Moving slowly and in great pain, Khan carried Golden Fur to the spring and laid her down in the dry grass.

“Drink,” instructed Golden Fur.

He cupped his hands and took a drink of water. At once the pain in his chest subsided. He could breathe
easily again. The blood stopped flowing, and the gashes knitted whole until the skin of his chest was smooth and unmarked as before.

Golden Fur dipped her head, and her whiskers worried the surface of the water as her tongue lapped a drop. “Free,” she said.

Her fur began to split down the back and then fall away. From within the tiny body something large struggled to get out. He stepped back as a coil of golden, rose-scented smoke rose from the small creature. The smoke cleared, and there standing before him was the woman in his dreams. She shook out her long black hair and gave a musical laugh. The stars sparkled in her dark eyes, and the wind carried the scent of almonds. She reached down and, taking the lifeless body of Golden Fur in her palms, breathed across the honey fur. Khan saw the creature stir and come to life again. She twitched her pink nose, pricked her ears, and without a word scampered from the princess’s hands, disappearing into a small hole in the sand.

The princess smiled at the astonished young man. “I am the Princess Sofia. My father was once a powerful magician. He died when I was still young, and fearing that my wealth and power would endanger my life, he placed me into the little creature. He made the Guardians from paper, wheat, and water, and breathed life into them that they should protect me. Last he set the tasks, hoping that one day there might be a man worthy of my love. You were the only one generous and brave enough to help a small creature such as Golden Fur.”

Khan took her hands and glanced sadly at the desert. “I have no other wealth but my love to offer you,” he said. “And I fear that yours has disappeared with the desert wind.”