Porcelain Princess (3 page)

‘
We
had
stayed still,’ Ferena mumbled ashamedly as she stepped
closer to Carey. ‘But it
sounded
like they were going to
start a fire, so…’

‘
Is
this right?’ Carey demanded softly, closely observing every face
staring back up at her.

They all
nodded.

Carey looked
about her, quickly taking in the hanging puppets, the painted
scenery, the curtains and costumes. Even the floor and walls, of
course, were made from wood.

Wood. String.
Cloth. Paints. Methylated spirits.

It would have
all gone up in flames in an instant if a fire had been started in
here.

‘
Then…’ she began hesitantly, ‘I
apologise
for being
angry with you.’

Everyone,
including Grudo, grinned with relief. They laughed, cheered,
slapped each other on their backs in congratulation.

‘
But
keep down the cheering, right!’ Carey cried out over the excited
din. ‘Or anyone passing will be wondering how just me and Grudo
manage to make it sound like we’ve got a party going on in
here!’

*

‘
Is
it true you think we’re getting closer to where the Illuminator
lives?’

Standing with
her back to a kneeling Carey, Ferena used what little movement she
still possessed in her wings to both part and raise them slightly.
It allowed easier access to the small door lying just below what
would have been her shoulder blades. Opening this door, Carey
peered through the compartment’s metallic safely grill, checking
that the flame inside was burning brightly. She also made sure that
there hadn’t been any build-up of either soot or fluff that might
later hinder the flame.

‘
You
know what I believe, Ferena,’ Carey said in reply to the girl’s
query. ‘I believe that the farther any land lies from the Porcelain
Kingdom, the less likely the people living there will believe that
the Porcelain Princess actually exists; and so those people fear
the Fading.’

As she talked,
Carey calmly and deftly took the stopper from the ceramic pot that
served as the flame’s reservoir. Working quickly, with one hand she
placed a funnel in the opening, with her other she carefully poured
in methylated spirits from a spouted jar.

Patiently
waiting for his turn to have his reservoir refilled, a bare chested
Peregun was standing to one side, his shirt and jacket slung over
and held in the crock of his right arm.

‘
And
recently, within our audiences,’ he said, ‘we’re seeing more and
more people afflicted by the Fading; yet many seem to be at ease
with it, even quite happy.’

Having replaced
the reservoir’s stopper, Carey closed and latched the compartment’s
door.

‘
You’ve noticed too, right? And so yes,
I
think we
are
getting closer.’

No one could
have failed to notice the emphasis on the
I
. Durndrin,
buttoning up his shirt after having his own reservoir topped up
earlier, pouted uneasily, unsure whether to make a comment or not.
But Neris, vainly readjusting her long, dark hair so that it neatly
flowed down her back once more, spoke for them all (even Dougy who,
typically for a dog, was already sound asleep beneath an old
theatre curtain he’d curled under).

‘
But
Grudo doesn’t agree, I take it?’

‘
But
Grudo doesn’t agree,’ Carey repeated miserably as she helped Ferena
slip her green dress back over her delicate wings.

Made of silk and
wire, the wings fitted through slits in the back of the dress.
Ferena gently fluttered her wings, a simple test to ensure that no
loose cotton threads from the dress were caught up in
them.

‘
Maybe it’s one of those lands you can only get to when you
dream of them…’ Ferena said dreamily.

‘
In
your
dreams, dear.’ Neris grinned cheekily.

‘
I’m
sorry, Ferena,’ Carey said, observing the weak fluttering of the
wings with great sadness, ‘I really can’t understand why a refilled
reservoir doesn’t give them more power, like it used to. There’s
something I’m missing, obviously – but I really can’t fathom out
what it is!’

‘
Never mind, Carey,’ Ferena answered kindly, moving aside so
that Peregun could take her place in front of the kneeling girl.
‘Truth is, they only ever gave me a few minutes’ flight when they
did
work; and it always burned up the spirit
so
quickly!’

‘
You
do everything you can for us,’ Peregun agreed. ‘We appreciate
everything you do, Carey, you know that.’

Carey opened up
Peregun’s back, checked the flame, removed the reservoir’s
stopper.

‘
Well, thanks everyone, for your confidence in me – even if it
is a little misplaced. You’re just all so old–’

‘
Who’re you calling old, dearie?’ Halting in the middle of her
elaborate exercise regime, Neris feigned an irritated
scowl.

‘
Hmn,
I
do
find it harder to remember my lines,’ Durndrin said,
looking up from preparing his bed.

‘
I
wish I
could
forget
my
lines, dear,’ Neris declared,
vainly stroking her face and neck as she checked for any signs of
aging in a nearby mirror

‘
Hey
Durndrin, if you think you’ve really got a problem, how about
taking some of my roles?’ Dougy said gloomily. ‘How hard’s the odd
growl for you to recall, eh?’

‘
Hah,
let me
reword
what I just said, for
all
your
benefit,’ Carey chuckled. ‘You might all
look
remarkably
young, but I don’t have the skills required to keep you all going
as smoothly as you’re used to!
But
, when we
finally
get to meet the Illuminator–’

‘
Then
we all get to be
really
alive!’ they all happily
chorused.

*

When Carey
walked through into the caravan’s other room, Grudo had already
pulled down the heavy ledger onto the cabin’s small table. He was
patiently filling in the columns linking the day’s takings to any
expenses incurred, such as the food Carey had bought earlier in
preparation for tomorrow’s journey.

Even as Carey
closed the door behind her, the excited laughter coming from the
store room could still be clearly heard.

‘
Let
me guess,’ Grudo sighed, ‘they believe, like you, that we’re
getting closer, right?’

‘
They
want
to believe, Grudo; as I do! Ferena especially
needs
to believe!’

‘
Ferena’s always got her head in the clouds, hoping someone’s
going to wave a magic wand someday and–’

‘
She
wants to be flying
around
in the clouds. And why shouldn’t
she, when once she
could
fly?’

‘
Truth is Carey, what with our memories being as bad as they
are, none of us can remember if she ever really
could
fly.’

‘
She’s got
wings
hasn’t she, Grudo?’

‘
Well, yes but–’

Grudo gulped as
Carey locked eyes with him.

‘
I
know, I know; I’m sorry I’m being so negative. It’s just
that–’

‘
I
know – you don’t want to see me
disappointed
.’

‘
Disappointed
again
.’

They both smiled
warmly at each other. Carey sat down next to Grudo at the table,
where he’d already set out a teapot and cup of tea for
her.

‘
If
only I knew how to repair everyone,’ she said forlornly as she took
a sip of tea. Earl Grey with a hint of milk. Just as she liked it.
‘Maybe
then
we wouldn’t have to find the
Illuminator.’

‘
No
one
expects
you to know, Carey; you know that. We’re all
aging, we realise that; it’s part of life.’

‘
Well, thankfully, I reckon Durndrin and Neris are just
imagining
their
problems. Dougy, he’s oldest of them all in
dog years, I suppose, but he’s just embarrassed about the way he
can’t stop barking at cats, or sniffing walls – or worse! Poor old
Ferena and Peregun, despite looking the youngest, seem to be aging
the worst.’

‘
I
think we might have to tell Peregun his days of swashbuckling roles
are over,’ Grudo agreed sadly. ‘What he jokily calls his rheumatism
almost caused a real problem when we last put on
The Sea
Empress
.’

Carey nodded
thoughtfully. One of Peregun’s knees had locked as he’d charged
down a staircase during an elaborate sword fight, sending him
bowling down the steps and careering into a number of other
puppets. Luckily,
this
time it had all seemed like an
amazingly exciting part of the action to the audience; but
next
time?

‘
It
will break his heart,’ Carey admitted. ‘And all because I can’t do
the job I’ve been left to do!’

Grudo tried to
caress Carey’s head as gently as he could. He was fully aware that
the huge hands were too heavy, too hard (despite the softness of
the gloves he always wore), for him to show her the affection he
wanted to.

‘
I
miss him so much,’ Carey said, looking up at Grudo with tears
forming in her eyes.

‘
We
all
do, Carey, we
all
do.’

Grudo’s eyes
were every bit as sad as Carey’s but, of course, no tears could
form.

Carey grinned
weakly.

‘
He’d
have been so proud of you Grudo,’ she said. ‘I…I
do
realise
you’re simply trying to give me the fatherly guidance he would have
given me, if he was still around.’

Grudo smiled. If
he could have cried, he would have.

‘
Now,’ Carey said stoically, rising from her seat and moving
behind Grudo, ‘it’s
your
turn.’

Expertly lifting
the jacket and shirt covering Grudo’s broad, wooden back, she
unlatched the door revealing his flame and spirit
reservoir.

‘
You
know,’ Grudo admitted kindly, ‘even
I
wonder if your hands
would be tickling me now if I were
really
alive.’

*

The caravan
slowly chugged along the reasonably straight but painfully uneven
road, puffing out the odd, irritable belch of steam or smoke.
Alongside, running in and out of the trees lining the road, Grudo,
Neris, Peregun, Durndrin and Ferena were all hurriedly chopping off
and collecting large chunks of the branches, tossing them into the
cart trailing behind the wagon.

In the driving
seat, Carey had little to do but keep a wary eye out for anyone
heading their way, or any other signs of human activity in the
surrounding forest. As soon as she spotted anything suspicious,
she’d give out a warning yell to everyone to stop collecting wood.
Dougy, seated on the back of the trailer to keep an eye on their
rear, would similarly bark out loudly. In a well-practised move,
Grudo would slip off the large sack he’d strapped to his back,
holding it open while the others quickly scrambled into
it.

By the time any
human had approached them, nothing would have seemed out of the
ordinary. Naturally, steam driven wagons were a rarity, but most
people were aware that such things existed, if a little awestruck
and even frightened whenever they actually came across one of these
magical contraptions for the first time. Otherwise, all they would
see is a young girl driving the beast while her father returned
from collecting a sack full of mushrooms and herbs from the
forest.

Unless you
stepped up incredibly close to him, Grudo appeared surprisingly
real. His many joints were hidden by thick jackets, leggings,
collars and gloves. His face was almost covered by a thick beard
and raggedy hair. His teeth were of ivory, his eyes of glass; and
all he had to do was snarl or glare with either to dissuade anyone
from stepping
too
close.

With thankfully
so little to do, Carey was glancing through a small pile of books
she’d pulled off the caravan’s shelves and placed alongside her on
the driver’s seat. The theatre’s retelling of
The Porcelain
Child
had been an undoubted success with the crowds, but Carey
was always on the lookout for ways of improving the
shows.

Ferena in
particular had been excellent in her final role as the porcelain
child. The entire audience had gasped as she had seemingly come to
life at the very end of the play to tenderly touch the head of her
sleeping father. It was an effect made all the more surprising and
magical as, for this role alone, Carey allowed her to perform
without attaching the strings that gave the impression Ferena and
the others were just regular, lifeless puppets. There was a slight
risk that their secret might be revealed, Carey realised, but she
counted on the audience believing that it was nothing more than a
piece of clever theatrical trickery.