The Eye of the Beholder (5 page)

Swan Hollow was north of Everforest, directly opposite the thickest part of the forest that surrounded three sides of our town. There were two routes there; one led around the forest but, because of its massive size, it took twice as long to arrive in Swan Hollow as it did if one took the second route, which passed directly through the forest. Few chose the shorter route. The forest was ominous, and I felt my heart race at my father's announcement.

"The forest?" I repeated. "But Papa, it is dangerous…"

Papa waved my objection away with a smile. "Nonsense, my dear. That is all just superstition. I shall be perfectly safe traveling through the forest, I assure you."

I wanted to object further, but Papa's face was shining with such excitement that I could not bring myself to temper his eagerness.

"Swan Hollow's market is very large, and I feel confident that my work shall fetch a good price. I shall be able to add to each of your dowries and have enough to spare to bring you each a gift. Now, I command you to request a boon," he said, his eyes dancing.

My sisters began to talk excitedly, but I could not help but feel a sense of dread at the thought of my father's journey. Deep in my heart I felt that his choice of route was unwise, but what could I say to convince him of that?

"I would like some peacock blue satin. I wish to have a new gown made," Thomasina said, at last. The request was bold, for it had been many years since any of us had worn satin gowns, but Papa's smile did not waver.

"You shall have your satin," he told her, pinching her cheek fondly. She squealed with delight.

"I would like some pale green satin," Rowena hastened to add.

"And you shall have yours," Papa said, tugging gently at one of her blond curls. "As for my Mira, I think I shall need to pay a visit to a certain trader and his books." Papa's eyes twinkled, making my stomach ache. Though I was very curious about the trader's books, I was not willing to exchange Papa's safety for one.

"I want only your safe return," I said quietly.

"You shall certainly have that! But what sort of book shall I bring you?"

"None, Papa. I want for nothing."

It was the truth. I had not said it to be noble, but I could instantly see from the scornful expressions on my sisters' faces that they had interpreted my statement in that manner.

"Always the dutiful one, are you not?" Rowena asked, in a voice that may have sounded sweet to Papa, but that I knew held a good deal of rancor.

"I am certain I shall find something of interest to you," Papa said firmly. His smile had dimmed somewhat as he looked at me, and I felt horribly guilty for having burst his bubble of anticipation.

"I shall miss you," I said, rising from my chair to embrace him and kiss his cheek.

My sisters soon followed suit, showering Papa with kisses and wishes for a good journey. I was too troubled to remain around Papa without disturbing his happiness once more, so I went to bed as soon as we finished cleaning up after dinner.

I did not sleep well that night, for I could not shake my dread. Papa, however, was in good spirits the next morning, and I did my best to hide my anxiety. As my sisters and I waved farewell to him, I forced myself to smile.

"You think you are better than us, do you not?" hissed Thomasina, as soon as he was out of sight. "You thought to make a spectacle of us by telling Papa you wanted for nothing."

The weight of my apprehensions and my lack of sleep left me with very little patience. "You do not need my help to make spectacles of yourselves," I snapped.

Rowena's nostrils flared and her eyes flashed. "You are a disgrace to us all, you pitiful, ugly thing. For some reason, Papa is foolishly fond of you, but that does not matter. Thomasina and I shall soon be secure in good marriages. But you will be utterly alone when Papa dies, for no one will have you."

With that, they swept back into the cottage. I scarcely felt the pain of their words, for I was far too worried about Papa to let their viciousness trouble me. I stood outside for quite a long while, watching as the cloud of dust that had been stirred by Papa's wagon slowly settled back down upon the path. Then I turned and entered the cottage to begin my work.

Chapter 5: An Unwelcome Visitor

Roughly a year remained for me to break the curse. My indifference was occasionally pierced by a sense of desperation, though I did not know why I bothered despairing. Nearly two hundred ninety-nine years had passed without a single maiden stumbling upon my castle. I had been a beast for far, far longer than I had been a man. What were the chances that a maiden would now stumble upon my castle? If one did, would it even matter? In just over a year, I would either be dead or I would be a man once again. It was rather liberating to feel that one end or another was finally near. I was no longer certain which end I would prefer.

Three hundred years is an agonizing amount of time to pass in the manner I passed it. In the early days, I was able to remain hopeful for my future but, as time went by, I grew more and more bitter. How would I even know how to conduct myself if a maiden were to arrive unexpectedly at the castle? I had been surrounded by no one other than my mute servants, so I would wager that my social skills--though never good--would now leave much to be desired. And though I had never had any intention of truly falling in love, even money and power would not be enough to attract the immediate interest of a maiden confronted with the sight of a beast. I would have to be at least somewhat charming in order to have any hope of sparking her interest.

During the periods when my spirits were somewhat high, I thought scornfully of the enchantress. Certainly she had punished me by making me a beast, but if she had hoped to teach me a lesson, she was both a simpleton and a fool. If I were to change back into a man again, there was no doubt in my mind that I would be the same as I had ever been. I derived some satisfaction from thinking of how triumphant I would feel once this happened, and how I would laugh at the enchantress's misguided attempts to teach me humility.

Over the last fifty years, I had not enjoyed many instances of high spirits. I had taken to brooding almost constantly, growling at my servants whenever they dared come near me, and sending them scurrying away more quickly than ever. They never aged a day and that angered me as well, for I had begun to feel ancient, as if I had lived an eternity. And what an eternity it was; nothing but three centuries of days that were each nearly indistinguishable from the other.

The castle had long since become decrepit and, as I looked at it, I felt a grim satisfaction at the thought that it would fall apart and die just as I would. The servants had given up trying to do anything to improve it and now spent all of their time tending the roses. I could hardly blame them. The roses were the only thing of beauty and brightness that existed for leagues around the castle. Over the last three hundred years, the forest had grown so large and so dense that scarcely any light could filter through the dark screen of leaves. The roses remained remarkably unaffected, continuing to grow as vibrantly as ever, their beauty untouched by the grimness and despair that surrounded them.

I had even begun to lose interest in the roses. All that mattered to me was that my torment would soon cease. The world had long since forgotten me, and I could not help but laugh bitterly at my own insignificance. When I had been king, I had thought of myself as the center of the universe, but it took no more than a fortnight of gazing into my enchanted pool to show me how wrong I was. The world continued on without me, as if I had never existed.

Restlessly, I fled my chamber in an attempt to flee my dark thoughts, prowling the castle for I knew not what. I found myself in the great hall, gazing morosely through the doors at my roses when I heard a sound I hadn't heard in centuries. Holding myself absolutely still, I perked my ears up and listened carefully to ensure that I was not imagining things. I was not. Though faint, I heard the unmistakable sound of a horse and wagon approaching the castle. Had I not the ears of a beast, the sound would have escaped my notice.

Glancing up at the sky, I could see that it was almost nightfall. I felt a sense of incredulity as the sound of the horse and wagon's approach continued. It would have been impossible to sight my castle in the gloomy murk of the forest, so the approach could not be deliberate. There was no other explanation for it: whoever it was must have lost his way and stumbled accidentally upon my domain.

Whirling around, I bounded through the castle, searching for my servants. They appeared almost instantly, empty eyes turned in my direction as they awaited my command.

"Someone is nearby," I said, the sound startling me, for it had been many years since I had last spoken. My voice sounded dusty and unused, much like the castle itself.

The servants turned toward one another and then back to me, evidently waiting for me to say more. I thought carefully for a moment before arriving at a decision. "If this stranger manages to find his way here, see to it that a fire is laid and food set out, but do not let him see you. He may stay here for the night and then we shall see what happens on the morrow."

With these words, I swept from the chamber and left my servants to their work. I hurried through the many twisting corridors until I reached one of the front chambers on the second story, impatiently pushing the window open and listening closely.

Much to my amazement, the stranger had reached the castle. I heard the horse neigh nervously, followed by the voice of a man as he spoke low, soothing words to the beast. His boots crunched on the gravel walk as he leapt down from his wagon and approached the elaborate, rusted gates that led into the castle's front courtyard. I hazarded a glance out the window and clearly saw the man. He stood with his hands wrapped around the bars of the gate, staring up at the castle with his mouth open, his eyes wide with fear or astonishment--or perhaps both.

The man glanced around him, every muscle in his body tensing. As he looked toward the forest road, he gave a slight shudder, and I could see that he looked weary and worn. His clothes were thickly caked with dust and grime, and his face looked haggard, as if he had been traveling for some time.

"I suppose it is no worse than continuing on through the forest at this hour," he murmured. He pushed on the gates, and they swung open with a loud screech. He grimaced and swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing convulsively in his throat, then he gathered his horse and wagon and led them into the courtyard.

I moved away from the window, keeping it open but not allowing myself to gaze out of it. I thought it likely that the man would pause to study the castle's facade and, if he did so, I was certain he would see me, which was the last thing I wanted. The sounds of his approach continued and then faded as he led his horse and wagon away from the front entrance.

With a low growl, I moved over to the window and closed it. I did not like the idea of this man staying in the castle, but how could I prevent it? If I showed myself, he would run from the castle in fright and tell every one of the people in his village of my existence. I had not the heart to face a mob of angry villagers, who would certainly come to the castle and try to kill me.

The option of killing the man was always available, but that too was not desirable. Though I had ordered people executed as punishment for their crimes, I had never killed anyone with my own hands and, in truth, I did not have the stomach for it. Moreover, if he were to be killed, how was I to be certain that no one would come searching for him?

Lastly, I could allow the servants to show themselves to him in the hopes that they would scare him away, but that would most likely have the same result as that of his seeing me. Better to let him stay the night in the castle and, if he did not leave in the morning, decide what to do with him then.

I spent the unbearably long night skulking about my quarters. When dawn finally broke, I quit my chamber and returned to the second floor window I had haunted the previous evening.

Peering out, I could see that the man was approaching the gates. He paused as he reached them, glancing back over his shoulder. I moved into the shadows, concealing myself from his gaze. He stared at the castle for several long moments before stepping down from his wagon and walking carefully across the gravel path to the castle walls, casting glances about him as he went. I was perplexed, but then I saw his object. Slowly, he approached the castle wall and reached out a hand to touch one of the roses. I went perfectly still, my spine rigid. Reaching into his pocket, the man pulled out a small penknife and used it to cut the rose from the vine.

Pure, sheer rage washed over me like a black wave, and I let out an ear-splitting roar. Before turning from the window, I could see the man start, his face as pale as milk. I ran on all fours from the second floor, down the stairs, and burst through the front entrance of the castle.