Revenant Eve (61 page)

We reached the bell tower. We reached the portal…and we fell out of the
Nasdrafus
, into the real world through the mirror we’d first gone through, back into that small antechamber just off the ballroom in the von Mecklundburg castle. Aurélie and Jaska laughed unsteadily with relief. Mord looked more like a mad prophet than ever as he flexed his hands, in which the magic violin, Mozart’s gift, had burned to ash. Then he gently helped Elisheva, who nearly collapsed as they stepped away from thin air onto the terrace next to the kylix fountain. They were at the Eyrie, and all four looked my way.

I was still in their time. Not where I’d hoped to be.

A
T FIRST,
the terrace looked the same as it had when we left, but we perceived subtle differences: some seemed taller, and the colors were not the fresh light green of spring, but the crackling deep greens and lemon yellows of late summer.

“We’ve missed weeks. Maybe months,” Jaska said, straightening up. The stiff way he moved, the pain he tried to hide, made it clear that his bad knee was the same as it had been before. His face was drawn, the planes shadowed by faint lines.

“We might have been gone longer,” Elisheva said.

“How do you know that?” Mord asked as he helped her to her feet.

She ducked her head. “I made a vow not to talk about what they said to me when I was prisoned in that place, for that would be to give their words added power.” She wiped her hands down her dress—her rumpled, grimy dress. Now that they were in the real world, they all showed the effects of time.

Elisheva turned her bruised, tired eyes to me as she wiped absently at grime on her face. “You are still a ghost.”

“Yes,” I said, trying to hide the sharpness of disappointment. “Then there’s still something to be done. Maybe the Blessing and their marriage will free me?”

Elisheva’s eyelids flickered. Then she straightened her shoulders. “I’ll not hazard a guess at this moment.” But she knew something.

I didn’t press her, as she seemed barely able to hold it together. The other three looked tired, but she looked beyond exhausted. I could almost feel her effort to marshal the last of her strength as she said, “The mirrors will still be dangerous, but I was taught that there’s a portal at Angel Xanpia’s Fountain. Shall we try it? We know how to use portals now, and the necklace should provide the Vrajhus to make the transfer possible.”

“What will happen if the Vrajhus fails?” Aurélie asked. “Will we go back to that terrible place?”

“I think only that we must beg a ride down the mountainside to Angel Xanpia’s Fountain,” Elisheva said.

They took hands. I took hold of Aurélie’s shoulder—I don’t know if she felt my grip, as I could see her ruined gown through my shimmery fingers. The transfer was too quick. It felt more like we’d been shoved by an invisible hand. We fell into the water of Xanpia’s Fountain, the four of them getting thoroughly soaked.

Being invisible, I didn’t get wet. I gazed up at the smiling face of the stone statue, hoping that Xanpia would come forward and tell me that I was nearly done, but nothing happened.

It was dawn, the sun crowning Dsaret mountain. Very few people were about. The only one who noticed the sudden appearance of four persons splashing in the fountain was an old man driving a couple of cows toward Prinz Karl-Rafael Street. He did a double-take, his bearded face expressing astonishment as the four sloshed over the low rim of the fountain, Mord helping Jaska. I was shocked to see gray strands in Mord’s hair at his temples, and faint lines around Jaska’s eyes. Both Elisheva and Aurélie looked subtly different, the contours of their faces planed somewhat of the roundness of youth. There were silvery strands among the red in Elisheva’s hair. All four had aged.

They wrung their clothes out as best they could and started up the street toward the great square, shedding water at every step. Aurélie’s
once-beautiful ball gown was a spectacular mess, the once-pretty green ribbons trailing like seaweed.

About a block and a half later a patrol of King’s Guard trotted up. Cue astonishment: “The king?”

“The king!”

Their profound shock would have been funny except for the consternation that was so clear in those wide eyes and open mouths. Their consternation was reflected in Jaska as he breathed, “The
king
?”

Half the patrol was sent galloping, and the other half closed protectively around Jaska, though there was no attacker. Maybe they were trying to keep him from vanishing again.

The reason became clear when we reached the palace a short time later, and Margit came flying out, heedless of her dignity. Her face was careworn, her silk gown was the gray of half-mourning. “Jaska,” she cried, and we could see faint lines at the corners of her eyes, same as her brother’s. “Jaska, you are back!”

She flung herself into his arms. “Ten years,” she cried. “Jaska, it’s been ten
years
.”

“I think…I can explain,” Elisheva said faintly.

“Let us get her inside.” Mord’s voice was urgent.

“Please forgive me,” Jaska said to his sister, who motioned hovering servants to help Mord with Elisheva. Despite her efforts, she was tottering. “We were striving beyond our knowledge,” Jaska said, “almost beyond our strength. But we did finally prevail.”

A crowd was fast forming. Jaska turned around and raised his voice. “I am home. This time, for good.”

A cheer went up, tentative at first then gathering force.

“Come inside,” Margit murmured, as a new figure appeared in the door to the palace—Benedek Ysvorod, hair gray at the temples, otherwise looking fit and aware. Kingly.

His brows lifted, then he bowed. If there was an air of mockery—yeah, Jaska saw it, all right—nothing was said out loud as I followed them into the palace. Behind us, the King’s Guard began clearing everyone away.

“Mother?” Jaska asked.

Margit stopped and took his hands. “She died two years ago.”

He winced, his head bowing.

They continued on into one of the state rooms, and she shut the door, then stood with her back to it. “She believed to the end that you were in the Nasdrafus, that you were doing something about this terrible situation.”

“What situation?” Jaska asked.

But Margit swept on. “You vanished so suddenly the night before Gabrielle’s wedding. No trace. We let the word spread that you had gone to the Nasdrafus on our behalf, because oh, Jaska, Aurélie, it was just as you predicted.” She turned to Aurélie. “d’Enghien assassinated, Bonaparte declaring himself emperor. And then he marched against the empire, and in the Year Nine, against
Russia
. France against Russia. All Europe was a battlefield. The campaign was disastrous even for Bonaparte, who until then could not be beaten. So we had the fear of reprisal when they retreated, marauding where they could to stay alive.”

“So Dobrenica escaped?”

“Only because their road lay to the north. But he is back, and the goal is Dresden—and beyond. So much of Europe lies in ruins. And it seems we are about to join them.” She paused as Jaska took a quick step, and stumbled. “Jaska, what happened?”

“Nothing. It’s only my knee. I forgot about it.…Never mind that, I must know everything. I must make amends.” The stress was shifting from her to him.

“Here,” she said in a practical tone. “Permit us to first get you fed and rested. Though things are dire, you all look travel worn. Ten years! I will tell you everything.”

“I am to understand that Benedek has not been crowned, then?”

Margit colored. “I said I’d marry him, but not…He understood. Jaska, he’s been my mainstay. He offered the dukes and the Grand Council five years after Mother died, at which time we would have to declare you dead. And they accepted because everyone feels, especially in these times, that we must have a king.”

“Is Hippolyte safe?”

“Oh, he returned long ago. The year you left, as you commanded. And our legation was closed before the French invaded Vienna. He’s been wonderful—he’s our main source of information. Has contacts everywhere, and Irena stayed true, but the duke won’t permit them to marry. You know why.”

“Hippolyte shall be declared a baron the day we’re crowned,” Jaska promised, holding tightly to Aurélie’s hand. “I’d make him a duke if we had another mountain.” He turned his head. “Mordechai, I wish you would reconsider. A barony is all I have to give you, and it would never repay my debt.”

Mord had been whispering to Elisheva, who was reclining in a deep chair, the needs of the moment transcending royal protocol. He lifted his head at that. “I cannot accept.” And at Jaska’s weary disappointment, he said, “I am honored. Deeply. But I am wary of secular rank. I believe my father was right that such things draw attention to us, and attention is never good for Jews in a Christian world.”

“Not here,” Jaska protested, clearly distraught. “Not in Dobrenica.”

Elisheva struggled to sit upright. “That must wait.”

Everyone fell silent and gathered around her chair. She gripped Mord’s hand tightly, as if to draw strength as she struggled to lift her voice. “Their plan was this: to keep you ensorcelled until Napoleon and his wars reached Dobrenica. In the resulting slaughter, they would gain enough power to take the Esplumoir, the gate between worlds. Remember: there are only three on all the earth, and one is here. It has been their goal all along.”

She turned to look my way, then dropped her gaze. Uh-oh.

“But the demons have not won yet,” Margit declared and smiled thinly at her brother. “If the cheer I heard today is indicative, we might have our true peace at last. If so, on September 2nd, we shall be able to evoke the Blessing. We can be rid of the demons altogether!”

Elisheva shook her head minutely, but the others didn’t notice because Mord took them all by surprise. “After what we just experienced, I can trust it is possible. But…if we are closed from the world, how does the Messiah find us if he comes?”

Aurélie whispered to Jaska, “And if we are closed away forever, that means I will never again see my family?”

Elisheva drew a deep breath and turned her grave gaze upward to meet Mord’s. “Mordechai, our rabbi, may he be forever blessed, can answer your question. Our rabbinical father wrote many centuries ago to the Ari-Hakadosh, the most holy, who said, that surely, when the Messiah comes, he will have the power to bring us all together, wherever we have scattered.”

“Then my only wish, besides to marry you, Elisheva
bashert
—” Mord turned from her to Jaska, “—is to start a music school. With music, I know where I am in the world.”

Elisheva flicked a glance at Aurélie. “Nothing on Earth is forever. The enchantment of the Blessing breaks when any of us break the peace, or cross the border into the outer world. If Bonaparte ceases to be a threat, well, then we shall re-engage with the world.”

“And you can bring your family here, Aurélie,” Jaska said to her. “And welcome.”

She clasped her hands with joy, as Elisheva closed her eyes again.

Margit said across Elisheva to Aurélie, “Those letters, do you remember writing them? Of course you do, if it was only days ago for you. I sent the letters off. I think it was two or three years after that, one summer, we received via the Swedish legation a trunk of rose slips sent by your cousin, a Mrs. Charles Kittredge. We could not lay them by, of course, and not knowing what you wished done, we divided them to see where they would grow best. My share I planted myself, out there by the gazebo as a reminder of, oh, many things. I think you understand me?”

“I do,” Aurélie said. “And I thank you.”

“Then this very year, she sent another letter, along with a book. The book is in English, so we do not know if is fiction or philosophy, but Hippolyte translated the formidable title,
Pride and Prejudice
. We have it laid by.” She shook her head. “But all that can wait. Is it the Blessing, then, that we need?”

Elisheva had been resting her head against the back of the chair while this conversation was going on.

Jaska said to her, “Forgive me, Elisheva. I know you need rest, and I believe a room is in preparation for you right now. But I must understand: Can we wait until September? Must we wait until September? Will the Blessing protect the kingdom from these demons? It troubles me, when you mention the Esplumoir.”

Elisheva opened her eyes again, and once again struggled to sit up. “We know that the demons feed upon the violence and desolation of war. It will strengthen them. I fear that, because they know we are now in our world, they will use whatever influence they can to bring the war to us the sooner, because their goal is to take control of the Esplumoir.”

“Why?” Aurélie asked. “It sounds like it’s another portal.”

Jaska shook his head, and Margit said, “The
Salfmattas
guard the Esplumoir, so that balance is maintained between all the spheres. The worlds. It is better to close it to all than surrender it to those with evil intent. If the demons do not take control of it, the Esplumoir will eventually restore itself.”

“Then we must close it,” Jaska said.

I thought Elisheva had looked bad before. She blanched as if the vamps had teleported all her blood. Her lips moved. Mord and Aurélie both bent to hear her, then Aurélie looked up, her eyes huge.