Chapter 7

In the days that followed that dinner, Thomas made an effort to spend more time with Alana, something she greatly appreciated and enjoyed. As the days grew colder, they spent more and more time indoors, and Thomas showed her many rooms that she had not yet discovered on her travels: an indoor greenhouse, a planetarium, even a bird sanctuary.

One clear but frozen day, Alana left her room and went to the library, where she settled herself beside the roaring fire, picking up the book that she had left there the day before. She had been there naught but ten minutes when Thomas came into the room, and gave her his usual grunt of a hello.

"Good morning!" she said cheerfully.

He sat down in his chair near her and said, "Are you always this merry in the winter?"

She chuckled. "Not always."

"What are you reading?" he asked.

She held up her book to show him.

"Ah, a fine book," he gave his approval.

She looked at the book for a moment as well; it had to be decades, if not centuries, old. She looked back up at him.

"Have you read all the books in here?" she asked.

He grunted, but his eyes gazed at the vast shelves. "No," he replied, "but I'm getting there."

She chuckled. "Do you have a favorite?" she inquired.

His forehead creased in thought. "I don't believe so… some of these, though, I have not seen in ages."

She bit her lip to stop herself from asking how long he had lived here. She knew it would not please him, and the last thing she wanted was to anger him. She changed the subject.

"My tutor always said I drew the wrong conclusions from the books we read. She always told me I was just making them up," she said with a laugh.

"Were you?"

"Sometimes."

He grunted his gruff laugh.

"But other times I was being completely sincere! She was just a stuffy know-it-all," she said with scowl, remembering her uptight tutor.

He laughed again, and for once it reached his eyes; they lit up as bright as the fire. She smiled.

"But whenever she became angry, I made the mistake of getting angry as well," she went on. "But I honestly think that there are some books that just don't have a deeper meaning! 'Why can't there be literature that's purely meant for entertainment?' I would ask her. Then she would hit me with a ruler… see that scar?" she said, holding up her hand, where there was a visible scar that ran from her pinky to her wrist. He took her hand in his paw and held it to the light.

"Surely your parents didn't approve of this," he said with concern.

She shrugged. "They didn't much care… I was always getting into trouble."

His eyes smiled. "A rebel?"

She laughed. "Hardly."

"All children are rebels."

"Were you?" she asked, but then bit her lip again – would he mind the question?

But instead of getting angry, he sighed. "The worst kind."

She fell silent, knowing that was the end of the conversation. She looked back down at her book, but couldn't concentrate. Perhaps his rebelliousness was why he was cursed – for now she had decided that he wasn't just some magical marvel of a beast, that could talk and behave human, but that he had once been a man who had been cursed. Why else would he have a human family, which she had seen in the portrait? She just wished she knew why, but she wasn't about to ask him. He would tell her when he was ready – if he was ever ready. The problem was that her impatience was mounting; she felt as if she was the only one who ever spoke. All he ever did was comment on the book she was reading, or teach her a constellation. But then again, it was awfully nice to have someone listen to her for once, and he always was patient and attentive as she rambled on.

She closed the book and stood up. His eyes looked up from his book and gazed at her.

"Have you finished it?" he asked.

She looked down at the book, smoothing its fine cloth cover; another layer of dust appeared on her hands. She shook her head.

"You do not like it?"

"No, it's not that," she said, not knowing how to explain. "I just… feel like something a bit lighter," she lied, and went off to find another book.

Thomas followed her with his eyes as she walked away. He sighed; she kept telling him stories, kept telling him more about her, and he… he couldn't even conjure up a good memory to share with her. He watched her wander through the library, one hand trailing along the spines of the innumerable books. He had thought that their dinner would have broken down whatever barriers he had, but he still felt unable to tell her anything. She must know now that there was a spell upon him of some kind, but he still felt reluctant to tell her anything from when he was a man. It was very painful to speak of that time so long ago; he could barely remember what it was like to have hands and feet.

He suddenly thought of something, an excellent way to tell her about himself. He stood up, leaving his book on the chair.

"Alana," he called to her; she was standing three levels up on a ladder. She looked down.

"Yes?" she answered.

He reached out a paw. "Come, I want to show you something."

Her face brightened and she scurried down from the ladder, trotting to meet him. Laying her arm atop his, she smiled eagerly as he led her out of the library.

They traveled to the north side of the castle, to a tower. He let her walk up the circular staircase in front of him, and was satisfied when he heard her gasp as she reached the top.

"Oh, Thomas… what is this room?" she said. They had entered into the topmost room of the tower, brightly lit by the midday sun. The walls were plastered with maps, fantastical instruments sat on desks, and thick, leather-bound books lined bookshelves. And in the corner sat a piano, but it was nothing like the one in the dining room. This piano was smaller and made of a reddish cherry wood, with smooth ivory keys and a velvet bench. And even though she sneezed from the dust every five seconds, nothing deterred Alana from scouring the room.

"I am sorry it is so dusty in here. I have meant to come clean it for some time," he told her.

"What is it?" she repeated.

"It was my grandmother's room, when she was young. She was very adventurous, but her parents never let her do the traveling she had always wanted to do. So she sent me to do it for her."

Alana had just discovered one map on the wall that was full of little pins sticking out from various places in the world.

"Those are all the places she sent me to," he told her. "Each trip I was to keep a journal," he said, going over to the bookshelves. He found what he was looking for, and pulled out his very old journal, causing an explosion of dust to fly into his face. Swiping it away, he carefully opened the book. The ink was faded but still readable; the spine creaked and the pages were brittle and yellow. But when Alana saw what he held, she hopped over in anticipation.

"Is this it?" she asked excitedly. "Your journal?"

"Yes," he said as he handed it to her carefully. "I'm surprised it has survived so long."

Alana eagerly looked at the journal, which was full of writing and sketches.

"April 15. We have just crossed the border into Veranla, and met a group of hunters who have showed us a much easier path through the woods, for which we are very grateful," she began to read aloud. "Lord Tanny has already ripped all three pairs of his britches from the undergrowth, and looks like a common peasant. We ridiculed him to the point that he marched straight into the next village and demanded a woman fix the tears. The woman actually demanded payment, but Lord Tanny was too fast for her. We all had a hearty laugh after that one." She paused, her forehead knitted. Thomas had sighed and sat down on a bench, repulsed by his former self.

"This can't be your journal," Alana suddenly said decisively.

He looked up at her in surprise. "Why do say that?"

"This doesn't sound like you at all," she said. "Much too arrogant."

His heart was very grateful to hear her say it, but she was all too wrong. He gestured for her to sit down.

"Alana, when I was a man… I was very arrogant. And foolish and selfish and vain…" he paused.

"Then what changed you?"

For a moment he was so joyful that she was sure he had changed that he didn't answer. But after a second, he said,

"Time. Many long years of living alone in a castle can change a man… if there is still a man within me." He buried his face in a paw.

Alana suddenly moved from her stool to sit next to him, and to his great surprise, put her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I think there is," she said simply.

Caught between his surprise and his appreciation, he merely said, "Thank you."

They sat there for a minute or two, until Alana said, "But thank you."

"For what?" Thomas asked.

She pulled her head up to look him in the eye. "For all of this. For listening to me when I ramble. For being so patient with me."

He smiled. "Your welcome… it's my pleasure."

She smiled as well. "So, what's Veranla like?"

Thomas knew this was what he'd been waiting for, and seized the opportunity to tell her stories of his journeys. Alana spent the afternoon rapt by his tales, and Thomas, at last, was genuinely happy.


"Would you like some coffee, Miss Alana?"

Alana didn't answer. She was too busy staring at the snow that had begun to fall outside. She stuck her head out of the window, trying to catch some on her tongue.

Faith laughed. "Miss Alana, you'll catch cold if you do that," she said.

Alana pulled her head back in. "Sorry. It's just the snow seems so much… cleaner, or something, out here than back in the city," she said. And it was true. The gardens down below and the tips of the bare branches on the trees were pristine with a white mantle of snow. It sparkled like sugar in the clear winter sun.

The month of December had arrived, and the winter holiday of Evemass was fast approaching. It celebrated the coming of the new year, and had long been Alana's favorite holiday.

"Faith?"

"Yes, miss?"

"Do you decorate the castle for Evemass?" Alana asked as she sat down for her breakfast.

"No," Faith said sadly. "It has been a long time since we have."

Alana clicked her tongue. Faith left the room, and Alana decided she would ask Thomas if she could decorate. Finishing her breakfast, she quickly changed and bounded out of the room in search of him.

She found him in the portrait gallery she had been through before.

"Good morning, Thomas!" she said, bouncing into the room with her winter energy. "Did you see the snow?"

He turned around and smiled at her. "Yes. I was going to suggest a walk outside if you wish."

"I'd love to!" she said. "But I have to ask you something first."

"And what is that?"

"May I decorate for Evemass?"

At first his face darkened, but after a few moments silence in which he pondered it over, he looked at her eager face and said, "Of course."

She clapped her hands together. "Yes!"


"Are you well?"

Thomas had seemed very depressed ever since the month of December had arrived, and Alana was growing worried.

"Yes, I am fine," was his curt answer. Her shoulders slumped; she had hoped he could tell her.

They walked outside, as Alana occasionally picked holly branches and berries. Come to think of it, the fairies had not seemed as cheerful and joyful as they usually were, as well. Something was happening, something that Alana didn't know about. Something with the curse, perhaps? Alana looked over at Thomas; he seemed like he had given in to something, some sort of feeling…

Alana hoped that whatever it was would pass, and that she could have an enjoyable Evemass at the castle. Her basket was soon full with leaves, branches, and berries, so they went back inside. Thomas left Alana in the hall, where she had decided to begin decorating.

"Care for some help?" Joy fluttered into the room, carrying some string.

Alana smiled. "Yes, please." Joy handed her the string, and they set to work on making some wreathes.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Alana stole glances at Joy every so often; her delicate face was screwed up in concentration, but Alana had a funny feeling that she was trying to keep her mind off of something else. Her wings had begun to somewhat wilt in the past few days, and her sparkling glow was diminishing.

Deciding she would get to the bottom of this, Alana said, "Joy?"

"Yes?"

"What's happening?"

Joy looked up, a look of fear passing over her face. "Whatever do you mean?" she said in a false voice.

"I know something's wrong. I want to know what it is," Alana demanded.

"Nothing's wrong."

"Is it something I can fix? Or is it something I did?"

Joy looked up into Alana's worried face, and sighed sadly.

"The time will come," she said simply.

"What does that mean?"

Joy made no answer. For the second time, Alana's shoulders slumped.

"Joy?" she asked again.

"Yes?"

"Why are you here?"

The fairy looked up in surprise.

"What do you mean?" she said, but this time, it wasn't false.

"Why are you servants here?" Alana thought of something else. "How long have you been here?"

Joy sighed, sitting in mid-air, her wings fluttering.

"Alana, there are many things you don't know."

"Then tell me! I've lived her for two months now, and nothing has ever been explained to me! I don't know why I'm here, why he's here, why you're here… anything!" Alana vented, her frustration escaping her.

Joy looked sad, but took a deep breath, as if preparing herself. "Alana, I cannot tell you why you are here, for you must find that on your own. However… time is little.

"We…Faith, Hope, and I, are sisters. We are the only fairies of our tribe left on this land. Over five hundred years ago, we were sent to live and work with a sorceress, a very powerful sorceress who lived in these woods. This castle was here at that time, and the people in it hardly ever came into the forest.

"Now… I cannot tell you how the curse came to be, for I do not know myself. But when the sorceress cast it, she put her spirit into it, and so it reigns over this castle as long as the curse thrives. Since we were under her command, we fell under the power of her curse as well, and have been servants in this castle ever since." She stopped, and continued her wreath, not looking at Alana.

Alana sat dumbfounded, the holly leaves cutting her hands. Five hundred years? Her head was reeling with so many questions, but she started with, "What happened to the sorceress?"

"Her body has passed on."

"Five hundred years?" Alana murmured to herself.

"It will be five hundred years this Evemass," Joy said, but suddenly clapped her hand to her mouth. She shook her head, sending a sparkly dust onto her wreath. "I should not have said that," she muttered under her breath.

"This Evemass?" Alana repeated. This was almost too much to take in… she left her wreath and Joy in the hall and went outside, heading to a certain spot.

Her Royal Highness Lilia

1020-1045

"Five hundred years ago!" Alana said to herself, reading the gravestone she had seen almost a month ago. Thinking of something else, she hurried back inside.

She went straight to the portrait gallery, where she hurried to the portrait of Thomas' family. Staring at it, she looked at a ring that was on the girl's finger. When she peered really close, she saw an L inscribed upon the golden band.

"Princess Lilia!" she exclaimed. But her triumph soon faded. What had she proved? That a girl named Lilia had lived here five hundred years ago? But that meant that Thomas was her brother!

"Aha!" she exclaimed. Thomas, the fairies, this castle…it had all been here for five hundred years! But then, why were they miserable?

"Five hundred years," Alana mumbled. Maybe…maybe the curse said something about five hundred years, like something will happen in five hundred years! But then why would they be sad? Unless…

"Alana?"

"AH!"

Alana shrieked in surprise as Hope fluttered into the room.

"I'm sorry, I did not mean to frighten you."

"That's alright," Alana said. Hope looked worried.

"What's wrong?" Alana asked.

"I have a message for you, Alana," the fairy said, fluttering nervously by the door, as if she wished beyond anything that she did not have to bring this message.

"Alright," Alana said slowly.

Hope took a deep breath. "Your sister is getting married."

There was a pause.

"What?!" was Alana's slow response. Her jaw had fallen open, trying to comprehend.

"And they wish you to come home."

Alana's mind went blank; it was too much to sort it all out. "How do you know this?"

"It is all over the kingdom…and I supposed they would want you home."

"When is it?"

"Evemass."

"Evemass?" So soon?

"Yes. Perhaps you should go tell Thomas."

"Thomas!"