Tower of Ivory

Beauty, Serenity, and the King observed a state of truce for the next few days. The suspension of hostilities, however, rested as uneasily over Castle Lochlein as the famous Princess must have rested over the more famous Pea. Beauty spent most of the time ensuring that her sister remembered to eat and sleep; without her watchfulness, Serenity would have spent every minute of every day and night in the room with the glass coffin. She knew she ought to be searching for some way to free the Prince, or hunting for the keys to the gold, silver, and iron padlocks, but she felt it would be heartless to leave him alone. Serenity hoped that he somehow knew she was nearby. The King had returned to his own studies in the library, although he was not at all confident the books there would hold a counter-spell that might help him, Prince Cheerful, or the other enchanted residents of the castle.

For the most part, Beauty and the King rather studiously avoided each other, but sometimes they would meet by accident, passing in the corridors or entering the banquet hall. When this occurred, they would exchange a frigid bow and an icy curtsey and then continue on, each making a mental note not to walk down that hallway again or to order the servants to serve their next meal in their chambers. To speak would be to resume the argument they had left unfinished in the room where the glass coffin lay, and neither of them wanted that. The King knew Beauty was in the wrong but felt it would be beneath his dignity to try to convince her of the truth; Beauty believed she was right and wished to view the Beast only as the target at which she could release her anger and frustration over her sister's sorrow and Prince Cheerful's ensorcelment.

However, anger is very difficult to maintain without any repetition of the offense, real or perceived, that inspired it. As time went by with no evidence that the Beast intended her and Serenity any harm, or that he meant to punish them for trespassing in his castle, Beauty felt her distrust of the Beast slowly lessening. Beauty had expected that at best she and her sister would be thrown into the dungeons or at worst they would be transformed into dung beetles. She didn't know what to think when none of this happened. The servants showed no sign of turning them out of their beautiful suite of rooms, and every day there were still sumptuous meals and exquisite clothes waiting for them.

Beauty knew that the Beast continued his daily visits to the garden, and once when she encountered him there, she was confused to see him talking to the golden lily. Could the flower truly be his sister, or was he only keeping up a pretense to deceive her? She was too far away to hear what he was saying, but he stopped at once when he realized he was not alone. Beauty was working up the courage to speak to him when he abruptly bowed and left, as was becoming his usual behavior. She sighed; perhaps they would never be reconciled to each other's company.

Beauty then noticed that the lily, which mysteriously had been standing taller while the Beast was in the garden, was drooping again. The earth around it was still terribly dry! Enchanted or not, the flower obviously needed more care than the Beast was giving it. She fetched some water from the fountain and sprinkled it over the flower, taking care not to wash the soil away from its delicate roots. To her delight, the lily revived almost at once; she fancied it was thanking her as the soft petals brushed her hand. Uprooting it to take home was unthinkable, since such a fragile plant would never survive the journey back to the woodcutter's cottage. Instead, Beauty promised herself that she would come every day to tend the lily, so that it might grow and bloom more vigorously.

The King had not gone far, only stopping in the shadow of one of the archways leading from the garden, hiding himself so that Beauty would not see him. He watched her water the golden lily and smiled to himself. He had been a fool not to think of it before! He also realized that, despite the impression of ferocity and stubbornness she had given him, the lady must be very kind indeed if she was moved to alleviate even a flower's suffering. The next time the King met Beauty in the hallway, he greeted her with a trifle more warmth, and he was about to ask whether his servants were providing everything she needed when he realized he did not know her name. Surprise and embarrassment at this lapse kept him silent, and he quickly walked away.

Serenity, when she could be convinced to join her sister for a meal, told Beauty that the Beast also came to watch over Prince Cheerful with her. He almost never spoke beyond a quiet word or two of greeting, and he never stayed more than a few minutes. Just that day she had also found a little padded stool next to the casket, where she might sit in comfort during her vigil, along with a warm cloak to protect her from the chill.

"If he is capable of such consideration, he cannot be as malevolent as you believe him to be," Serenity reasoned. "He must have been telling us the truth when he said that he was also caught in the castle's enchantment."

"Perhaps," Beauty replied, "but I find I cannot yet believe him completely. Even if he was bespelled along with everyone else here at the castle, it is impossible that he should be the King, as he claimed. What king would be so weak or so foolish to let a sorcerer near enough to work such magic? No, more likely the spell went awry, and he is the sorcerer himself, snared within his own conjuring."

"Spirited away to some mystical dungeon in the air? Held in chains and surrounded by gargoyles? How awful for such a handsome man to be mistreated so!" Beauty's voice had taken on a dreamy tone while she paired her remembrance of the figure in the last portrait with her wild imaginings. Then she shook her head, as if rediscovering reality. "He may only be trapped here in the castle, as Prince Cheerful is, but this place is so vast that it would take ages to find him. And I doubt we could trust the Beast to tell us where he is hidden!"

Serenity disagreed, pointing out that, since the Beast desired Prince Cheerful's freedom, it was doubtful he would wish the King to remain likewise captive; but Beauty held to her belief that the Beast must somehow be responsible for the Prince's imprisonment and would therefore also be the King's jailer. The two sisters parted soon after, each unconvinced of the other's opinion. It would never come to a quarrel -- they knew and loved each other too well for that -- but Serenity still wished her sister would take a more sympathetic view of the situation, and Beauty thought her sister might do well to consider their predicament without an intervening veil of emotion.

While the hall of the glass coffin was no doubt Serenity's destination, there was no place in the castle that claimed Beauty's attention so imperatively. She wandered through the hallways for a few hours, half-heartedly admiring the splendor that met her eyes at every turn, but mostly pondering the question of the Beast. The contrast between the terror he had first inspired in them and the courtesy he had lately shown them was great indeed. His character was broad enough to encompass both great fury and great compassion. She certainly preferred the latter behavior in both instances!

Beauty looked up to discover that there were paintings marching down the walls on both sides of her; she had come back to the long gallery. Walking to the end, she stopped before the portrait of the King. Again she admired his dark hair, curling from beneath the heavy crown, and she wondered if the severe expression in his amber eyes was ever lightened by merriment -- but then she was forced to laugh at herself. Imagine a woodcutter's daughter daring to entertain such thoughts of a king!

From the shadows at the end of the hallway, the King watched her stare at his portrait. He was chagrined to hear her give a slight chuckle, thinking she was finding some fault with the picture. She would not thank him for interrupting her reverie, but it was insupportable that she should mock even his likeness! He did not intend to surprise her again, but it really is impossible for a Beast to clear his throat quietly or politely.

The King was sorry to see how she started where she stood, with a flicker of fear crossing her face before determined politeness chased it away. "Madam, I beg your pardon, I..."

"Sir," she said, as coldly as ever, and turned to depart. After gazing at the King's well-proportioned features, she thought the Beast seemed even more hideous than before.

The King spoke hurriedly, determined that she should not leave just yet. "Madam, I wished to inquire after your companion. Is she well?"

If Beauty was surprised either that the Beast should address her, or that he should do so with such civility, she betrayed no sign of it. "My sister is well, I thank you."

"Your sister! I was not aware she was your relation. Does she keep watch over the Prince still?"

"Yes," Beauty answered. "Some days it is difficult to make her leave that room at all, since she is so determined not to desert him. She told me of the stool and the cloak she found there -- for her sake, I am grateful for your kind attention."

"It is of no consequence," the King said, uncomfortable with her thanks. "I only wish I could offer more substantial assistance. I hope the Prince will one day know how tenderly she has looked after him."

Beauty was tempted to make a pert reply, but she restrained herself. If the Beast was resolved to be polite, then so would she be. "It is my hope also."

Such a short answer could hardly be considered to be encouragement, but at least she seemed less determined to antagonize him. A few more silent moments passed as the King gathered the courage to ask his next question. "Madam, would you honor me with your name?"

"My name?" Beauty's cool demeanor disappeared as she could not resist a laugh. Their previous encounters had certainly not been suitable for making introductions! "How is it you have not troubled yourself to inquire before now?"

"Madam, I am not accustomed to having to ask. Usually I had a chamberlain who ascertained the names of my visitors before announcing them to me." The King suddenly realized how much his royalty had prevented him from learning the common courtesy that less exalted people used every day.

He could see that Beauty's eyes were still dancing with amusement, though it was not at his awkwardness, as he thought. Since she still did not believe him to be the King of Lochlein, she thought his claim of having a chamberlain was only a fabrication, designed to fool her. She wondered to what lengths he would go to convince her of his supposed rank.

"My sister is called Serenity, and I am called Beauty," she said at last, with a smile.

The tiny dimple that had so affected her father had a similar effect on the King. "Never have I met two ladies who were so well named," he replied with a bow, enjoying the blush that his compliment brought to Beauty's cheek.

Beauty laughed again to cover her discomfort, surprised that the Beast seemed so much more sincere in his gallantry than the village boys who had for years teased her about her name (usually when she was covered from head to toe in dirt after some tomboyish escapade). "Our father named us, although no one in our little town expected a simple woodcutter to wax so poetic over his daughters."

The King froze. Little town? Simple woodcutter? He had thought they were noblewomen from some faraway land! At the very least they ought to have been the daughters of a count or a duke! He had given the finest hospitality of his castle to commoners? It was unthinkable! Had the tales of the King of Lochlein's search for a wife sunk to being the gossip of the lower classes? Clever, conniving creatures -- to conceal the true purpose of their visit here behind a spurious concern for Prince Cheerful, when all they were after was the prize of a royal marriage!

Well, now that he understood their despicable scheme, he was safe from it. Prince Cheerful might take the other to wife out of gratitude if she was so desperate for a husband that she actually found a way to open the glass coffin -- but he was only a Prince yet, and raising up a woodcutter's daughter to be his Princess wouldn't be nearly as damaging to him as making one the Queen of Lochlein would be to the King. Unbelievable! No matter her name, Beauty must have a heart of ice under that lovely exterior.

The shock of Beauty's revelation made it easy for the King to return to his former haughty behavior. "Madam, I am taking too much of your time. Pray excuse me." With a hasty bow, he departed the gallery, moving as if the entire flock of crows from the roof was pursuing him.

Beauty was left alone in her perplexity, wondering what could have caused him to change so abruptly. Even a woodcutter's daughter knows when she has been insulted.

Surely she must be dreaming. Serenity knew it could not be otherwise -- for how could she now be walking in the castle garden, when her last action had been to lay her head on her folded arms on the lid of the glass coffin? Rest had been her object, and this dream of the garden seemed restful enough. Sunlight gleamed in shades of ruby and topaz on emerald leaves while the fountain murmured softly to itself, lulling all the roses to sleep. She looked around, hoping the quiet loveliness of the flowers would ease the ache in her soul, and she discovered she was not alone.

On a marble bench beside one of the paths was a man. He wore the elaborate robes of a mage, which for a moment frightened Serenity, who thought he must be the sorcerer who had cast the spell over the Prince. However, his face was kind and his manner gentle, and his voice when he spoke was as mellow as a warm fire on a cool autumn evening. "My dear child, come sit by me."

As she now felt no fear of him, Serenity easily complied. "Good sir, who are you, and why have you come here?"

He smiled. "I am the Sorcerer Steadfast, and I have come to this dream of yours in Castle Lochlein so that I might make amends for the trouble I have caused."

"Is all this magic your doing, then?" The idea should have made Serenity afraid again, but somehow it did not -- perhaps because the sorcerer's smile became barely tinged with sadness.

"It is my magic, but it was put to ill use by another. For years I have sought methods to refine my skills, and at last I succeeded -- by creating a magical orb into which I sank the larger part of my powers. This orb was not meant to be used lightly; any spell for which I used it would have required my utmost concentration, lest the magic go astray. So much power together becomes almost aware of itself, and although it would never act with malice -- since I have only ever used my magic for good purposes -- if it were released without any control, it might behave in a manner somewhat...well, let us call it whimsical, for lack of a better term.

"Having created this magic orb, which was my highest achievement in a long career of sorcery, I felt I deserved a small celebration. I soon found myself toasting my neighbors at a local pub. Whether I was weakened by my recent exertions, or whether I simply let myself indulge in too much liquor, the drink rapidly rendered me insensible. When I awoke -- with a headache the likes of which I fervently hope I may never again endure -- the orb was gone from its hiding place within my robe. I can only assume it was stolen by the wizard who bought the last round, since I recall he was very interested in my accomplishment and begged to be allowed to see it. I refused while I was conscious, but after the wine had its way with me, I could have offered no resistance. I am not trying to offer you an excuse or an apology for my actions, for such carelessness is inexcusable for a sorcerer in my position.

"I searched far and wide for that miserable wizard, but he had cloaked himself surprisingly well within his limited power, and his trail had gone cold. All I could do was wait for him to try to use the orb; since I had created the orb and its magic was mine, I would know immediately when it was released. And I must say, even I was impressed by its strength! Since then, I have been trying to find the location where the orb was broken, and my search has led me here. I regret that I could not get here sooner; I might have been able to reverse the spell if it had just been cast."

"Can you give aid now? You must know how to end the enchantment!" Serenity pleaded.

"I have discovered how to end only part of it; the rest will need further study, and I may have to ask a friend or two for advice. However, even the part of which I can tell you now will not be easy."

"If it will free Prince Cheerful from his imprisonment in the glass coffin, I will do anything!"

"Yes, the glass coffin! I expected something a little more straightforward, like a magic mirror, or an enchanted lamp, or an poisoned apple, or something more...well, perhaps whimsical wasn't quite the right word. What would be better -- sarcastic? Satirical? Mischievous? Frivolous?"

"I beg your pardon. I am still surprised by what my orb managed to accomplish." The sorcerer cleared his throat and collected his thoughts again. "As you know, there are three locks on the glass coffin. Opening the iron padlock will return all of the castle's servants to complete visibility. Opening the silver padlock will restore that dreary-looking flock of crows, magpies, and ravens to their human forms. Opening the gold padlock will open the glass coffin and wake the Prince."

Although she was not quite as clever as her sister Beauty, Serenity still had plenty of intelligence, and she realized that opening the three locks on the glass coffin would not banish all magic from Castle Lochlein. "But what about the King of Lochlein and his sister, the Princess? Were they not also enchanted?"

"My dear child, I thought you knew already! Princess Graceful was transformed into the golden lily, which I'm sure you have seen in the castle garden. However, freeing Prince Cheerful will have no effect on her. As I said, I have not determined how to entirely end the spells surrounding the castle, but I assure you my endeavors will continue. I know a few warlocks and a fairy who may have a few suggestions."

The sorcerer heaved a little sigh. "I'm afraid the spell on the King is not of my making. That wretched wizard must have used some of his own magic before he used my orb, so I cannot tell you how to counteract it. I am sure there is a way, since no magic lasts forever -- not without some very nasty side effects on the magician who created it, that is. I once tried to transmute lead into gold and hold it in that form for over a month (I'm afraid the rent on my tower was overdue), and what do you think happened? My nose turned green! Very unpleasant, let me tell you! And things got even more unpleasant when my landlord showed up, demanding that I make good on my debt with real coins..."

Serenity was disappointed. She had hoped that Beauty could end whatever spell was holding the King while she was helping the Prince. "I beg you, where can I find the keys that will open the glass coffin?"

The sorcerer's face became even more serious. "To find the keys you must go to Castle Rahonain -- the queen there has taken them and hidden them. She is a crafty woman who once had aspirations of becoming a sorceress, and she likes to meddle with other people's spells in an attempt to increase her own magical skill. If she has not found a way to use the power in the keys for her own ends, she will try to keep anyone else from using them, so taking them from her may be quite difficult."

"How do I get to this castle?" Serenity was undaunted. The queen of Castle Rahonain would surely understand that the keys were required to free Prince Cheerful from his terrible imprisonment, so once Serenity had explained the situation, it would be a simple matter for the queen to remember where they were hidden.

"Castle Rahonain is on an island behind the setting sun. Queen Scornful, you see, was determined to find a monstrously inaccessible place to build her castle, the better to prevent any enterprising thieves from carrying off the magic objects she has already stolen! I'm afraid you will have to find your own way to get there -- I wish I could help you, but what with the power I lost in the orb, and what I've had to spend on the search for it, and what was required to discover how to reverse the enchantment, I don't have very much left. I certainly wish you the best of luck, and I'll send someone along when I figure out the rest of the magic."

As the sorcerer finished speaking, the dream image of the garden began to waver like a reflection in water when the wind blows across it. The colors of his robe became indistinguishable from the colors of the flowers, and Serenity could no longer determine if he was still there. "Wait, please! Don't go!" But it was no use. The sorcerer disappeared, and Serenity woke up, to find herself alone by the glass coffin. She smiled then and pressed a kiss against the glass before running off to find her sister. Beauty had to know at once!

But Beauty was nowhere to be found. Serenity searched the garden, the portrait gallery, and as much of the maze of other rooms as she could remember how to find her way through. Serenity finally returned to their rooms, where she put on her own clothes again and had the servants bring her some provisions for her journey. Beauty was certain to reappear before her preparations were complete, and Serenity did not wish to waste a moment. The sooner she could be on her way to Castle Rahonain, the sooner Prince Cheerful would be released from the glass coffin!

Finally she could wait no longer. One of the servants brought her a piece of parchment, ink, and a quill pen, which she used to write a hurried note to her sister.

Then she made her way to the main entrance of the castle, where she stood under the gateway arch and looked west, where the sun was just beginning its final slide down the evening sky. There was no telling how she would reach the setting sun, let alone a castle behind it, but if it was a task that determination could accomplish, then it would be done. She had crossed the drawbridge and was just about to start walking, when she heard a familiar voice.

When this peculiar rhyme was finished, the owner of the voice emerged from the bushes next to the castle wall. "To Castle Rahonain, my lady?"

It was the Fox! Serenity gave a cry of joy and embraced him, ruffling his thick red fur. "Dearest Fox, how glad I am to see you! May I beg your help once again?"

The Fox bent one foreleg and stretched the other before him in a playful bow. "Madam, your chariot awaits," he said. Serenity took her seat as before, on the Fox's tail, and away they went.

However, Serenity had forgotten to close the sitting room window, and she was unaware that a stray breeze was toying with Beauty's letter on the little writing-desk. The folded parchment teetered on the edge for a moment as the mischievous gust swirled around it, and then it slid over the side, to land between the desk and the wall.

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