The Little Secret (9 page)

“Jane, my dear child,” said the queen, “go to your room. Your maid will dress you for dinner — just the family, on your first evening. I must bustle off now, to sentence a couple of people to death.” She flounced away through a stone arch, followed by Captain Hooter and a crowd of servants.

Jane shuddered. Had she really heard that? Since her shrinking, she had begun to notice a glint in Queen Matilda's eye that was decidedly nasty. She could well believe she sentenced people to death.

“Come on.” Staffa tugged Jane's hand.

They followed Twilly up a massive marble staircase and along endless corridors full of paintings and large gold ornaments. Servants bowed and curtseyed as they passed.

Jane whispered, “I wish they wouldn't do that!”

“I told you, you'll get used to it.” Staffa threw open a door. “This is your room.”

“WOW!” Jane gasped. It was a bedroom from a fairytale. The latticed windows had elaborate curtains of pink silk. There was a white four-poster bed, a huge wardrobe and a bath in the shape of a flower. The taps were made of gold. “Is this really mine? Seriously?”

“Do you like it?”

Jane flopped down on the bed, sinking into the silk pillows. “It's incredible! I love it!”

“I'm so glad,” Staffa said. “It's very important to me that you enjoy yourself here — I still feel bad because I didn't warn you. Unfortunately, there is no easy way to tell someone they'll be passing into another dimension. I hope you'll forgive me.”

The light of the setting sun poured through the window. It fell on Staffa's bare arm, and Jane noticed how hard and how white her skin was.

She heard herself blurting out, “You're not human, are you?”

Staffa coolly raised her eyebrows. “Not really.”

Jane was more curious than scared. “What are you, then?”

“It's complicated,” Staffa said. “My family — the royal family of Eckwald — comes from a race of elves. But we have to marry full humans — like you. Or our race will die out.”

“Was your father a full human?”

“Yes.”

“Do any humans live here?”

Staffa smiled sourly. “Obviously not — you've seen how hard it is to bring a human through the box.”

“But it's not hard for you,” Jane said. “Your mother came back, didn't she? That night when her hat was on fire.”

“Yes, well done. Mother and I can slip in and out whenever we please, but humans can only pass through the one crossing point. And it has to be on our own remote island.”

“Why?”

“So the box won't get stolen when we're not there to guard it — or kicked over by a sheep. It has to stay in a very safe place.”

“What about … you know…” Jane nodded towards Twilly. “Is she partly human too?”

“Oh, she's just an Ecker,” Staffa said. “The Eckers are quite different — another race entirely, mostly goblin with a dash of field mouse. They're not as clever as we are. That's why we have a stern duty to keep the royal family going. They need us.”

Jane looked at Twilly to see if she minded this rude description of her people. But Twilly was busy dusting the glass bottles on the dressing table and didn't seem to have heard.

“Where is this place, Staffa?” she asked. “Is it part of my world?”

“Not really.”

“Where did the huge spiders come from, then?”

Staffa said, “They were mostly brought in through the box by mistake, and the Eckers learned to farm them. Otherwise, we are completely outside your time and space.”

This was not a comfortable idea. The Boy Garden seemed very, very far away.

Jane asked, “Who's being sentenced to death?”

“Ah, you heard.” Staffa was embarrassed. “Just a few troublemakers — it's not as bad as it sounds.”

“But that's terrible!”

“Take my advice,” Staffa said, very seriously. “Try not to notice — and don't ask too many questions. Now I must dress for dinner.” She hurried out of the room.

Jane swallowed several times, trying not to cry. This place was weird and dangerous. She was suddenly very homesick. Her watch said it was half past six. She pictured the messy kitchen at the Boy Garden. Mom would be taking little Ted upstairs for his bath. Dan and Jon would be playing loud music in their bedroom. Dad would be making the big pasta-and-tuna bake they always had on Wednesdays. She wished with all her heart that she could call them. Two hot tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Oh, madam!” Twilly cried. “Don't cry, my poor dear!” She sat down on the bed beside Jane and pushed a lace handkerchief into her hand. “Everything will be lovely — you'll see!”

Her curls bobbed around her head, and her eyes were full of kindness. She patted Jane with her warm little hand — Jane noticed that it had the smallness and delicacy of a mouse's paw, and that Twilly's ears were large and soft, a bit like the soft ears of a mouse. She remembered that Twilly's people — the Eckers — were partly descended from field mice. This must be why Twilly's pale blue eyes were so big and round.

“Tell you what, madam,” said Twilly, “I'll fetch you a nice glass of buttercup juice.”

Jane sniffed. “You don't have to do things for me.”

Twilly giggled. “Oh, yes I do. I'm your private servant, and you've got to give me orders.”

“But I don't know how to give orders!”

“Just think of the queen,” Twilly said. “She never does anything else.”

This made Jane giggle too, and she immediately felt better. “Okay, here's an order for you — stop calling me ‘madam.' Just call me ‘Jane.'”

Twilly's eyes widened. “I can't do that!”

“Why not?”

“If anyone heard me, I'd lose my job — and I don't want to go back to the palace laundry, madam. That's where I was working before, and there are no prospects for a bright girl like me.”

“Well —” Jane already knew that she did not want to lose her kind little maid. “What about if you just call me ‘Jane' in private?”

Twilly considered this. “All right — as long as nobody hears. Now, madam — Jane — let's choose a dress for dinner.” She jumped off the bed and flung open the doors of the big wardrobe. “My cousin is the chief seamstress here, and she says these are the most wonderful gowns she ever made!”

For the umpteenth time that day, Jane could only gasp. This was fantasy run wild. The wardrobe was filled with fabulous dresses, in colors as pure and as vivid as the colors of the painted box.

“Which shall it be, madam — whoops! — I mean Jane? What about this dark yellow? It would look ever so nice with your lovely hair.”

She took out a long dress, with a huge puffy skirt that swept the floor, and helped Jane to put it on. It fit perfectly, and felt as light and soft as a butterfly's wing.

Twilly twirled around her, clapping her hands. “Oh, how princessy you look! Sit down at the dressing table, and I'll do your hair.”

Jane couldn't help being excited. When she sat down in front of the big dressing table mirror, she saw that she really did look as elegant as a real princess. This was especially thrilling for a girl who had always worn her brother's hand-me-downs. Wouldn't Ellie and Angie die of jealousy if they could see her now?

Twilly brushed her long red hair and pinned it up. As she worked busily, with her triangular mouth full of hairpins, she sang to herself. The words were mumbled, but Jane heard “beetle's leg” and realized this was the song sung by Mrs. Prockwald.

“Twilly, what are you singing?”

“Don't you know it? Of course you don't. But you'll hear it a lot — the whole city's singing it at the moment. It's Migorn's latest.”

“Who?”

“Migorn, that's who.” Twilly was eager. “The best singer in the whole world! I hope you get to see her at the theater.”

There was a knock at the door. Twilly opened it, with a deep curtsey.

It was Staffa, dressed in something long and stiff in pale blue. “Jane — you look absolutely lovely! Now let's get down to dinner. We mustn't keep her waiting.”

They walked through what seemed like miles and miles of corridors, until they reached a large dining room.

“At last!” cried the braying voice of the queen. “I'm starving!”

Queen Matilda was at the top of the long table, in a big chair like a throne. She wore a scarlet dress of thick velvet and a glittering crown. Beside her, on a smaller throne, sat a handsome young man with dark hair — Staffa's brother, Jane guessed. He looked about the same age as Jane's brother Martin. He wore a plain black uniform and a plain gold crown.

Staffa whispered in Jane's ear, “Curtsey!”

Jane dropped a deep curtsey. It didn't feel silly in this long dress.

“Well, Quarley, here she is,” said the queen. “This is the souvenir we brought back from our travels. Doesn't she look perfect? Jane, this is my son, His Majesty, King Quarles.”

Jane decided to curtsey again.

“Hello, Jane,” the young king said. “Welcome to my country. I hope you'll have a very pleasant visit.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, don't bother with all that nonsense,” the king said. “Call me Quarley.”

Captain Hooter directed Jane to the chair next to Quarley. Staffa sat opposite. Jane soon stopped feeling shy. The queen was busy eating, and took no more notice of her. The young king was very friendly, and he asked lots of questions about her home. It was like talking to Martin or Dan. Jane's mom would have said he was a “nice boy.” When he was not smiling, however, Quarley's pale face was very sad. Jane wondered why.

He helpfully explained the strange food. “You might not want the steak — it's carved off a slug.”

“You're joking!”

Staffa and Quarley chuckled at Jane's horror.

“I'm afraid not,” said Quarley. “We keep herds of slugs here. You should see the great beasts glistening in the rising sun!”

Jane shuddered. She had always detested slugs, and the idea of meeting an enormous one — let alone a herd of them — was revolting.

Staffa said, “They're a bit like cows in your world. They taste great.”

“No way! What's the green stuff?”

“Mashed stalk of celandine,” Quarley said. “In a sauce of wild honey and snail's milk. The brown stuff is a kind of soft honey cake, and the round white thing is snail's cheese.”

Jane was extremely hungry. She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten proper food. This food (particularly the slug steak) sounded disgusting, yet the smells wafting up from her plate were oddly tempting. She dared to take a forkful of the green mush. It was rather good — a bit like mashed potatoes, with hints of broccoli, yogurt and daffodil. She ate it quickly, and tried the soft brown cake. It was deliciously light and sweet. Before she really knew what she was doing, Jane had taken a bite of the steak. This was also delicious.

The dessert, carried in by Captain Hooter on a huge silver tray, was lumps of the chocolate truffle swimming in a hot chocolate sauce.

“Yum!” cried the queen. She shoveled it in with a large spoon like a trowel. “Aren't you having some, Quarley?”

“No thank you, Mother. The girls can have my share.”

Afterwards, when Jane and Staffa were walking back to their bedrooms, Staffa said, “Quarley's nice, isn't he?”

“Very nice. But why is he so sad?”

For a second, Staffa looked a little wary. Then she shrugged, deliberately vague. “Oh, it's lonely being one of us.”

“Has Quarley ever had a human friend?”

“Good grief, Jane,” Staffa said. “It's nearly midnight — don't you ever get tired of asking questions?”

“But has he? I mean, has he ever been to my world?”

“Yes,” Staffa said shortly. “Here we are, at your door. Good night Jane. Sleep well.”

She almost ran away down the long corridor, leaving Jane to wonder what on earth she was hiding. What was wrong with asking questions?

In Jane's bedroom, Twilly was waiting with a cup of hot snail milk and honey. She unfastened Jane's dress and helped her into a soft white nightgown. She brushed her hair and helped her into the great, soft, silken bed. Now that she had a full stomach, Jane was incredibly tired. This bed was blissful. It was like lying in a warm cloud. She stopped fretting about her unanswered questions and fell asleep.

THE OLD PRINCESS

When Jane opened her eyes the next morning, the first thing she saw was the beaming face of Twilly.

“Good morning, Your Janeship.”

Jane sat up. “What did you call me?”

“I was a bit worried about calling you just ‘Jane,'” Twilly said seriously. “So I've decided to call you, ‘Your Janeship.' That way I won't get into too much trouble if anyone hears me.”

“Okay, I don't want to get you into trouble.” Jane was too sleepy to argue. “Is it raining outside?”