a Tuesdays at the Castle short story - Bloomsbury

J E S S I C A D AY G E O R G E

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short st le t s a C e h t t a a Tuesdays BLOOMSBURY

Holidays at the Castle a Tuesdays at the Castle short story

JESSICA DAY GEORGE

h There was only one room in all of Castle Glower whose

coming and going could be predicted, and that was the holiday feasting hall. It appeared on the first day of the winter holidays, and disappeared at dawn on the day after the final feast. The hall was always beautifully decorated, and every evening wonderful food would appear along the huge banquet table. It was traditional during the winter holidays that servants and masters sit down together for the five feasts, but Castle Glower went just a little further by making the food itself so that the servants didn’t have to. Celie, the youngest of the four children of King Glower the Seventy-ninth, had always thought that it was vastly unfair for the servants in other places to have to work all day preparing for the festivities and cooking the food, with their only reward being a few minutes respite while they 1

ate. Castle Glower apparently thought this was unfair as well. For not only was the food laid out on the table every night, but the plates and silver cleaned themselves as well. And even though most of the rooms that magically appeared in the Castle every Tuesday were worn and dusty, the linens in the holiday feasting hall were always freshly laundered and ironed; the floor was always swept; the tapestries were free of dust or moth holes; and the silver, pewter, and crystal was polished and shining. Celie looked forward to the winter holidays all year long. She loved the food, and having cousins from far away visit, the dancing every night until dawn, and the giving of gifts on the last night. She loved the contests that the court musicians had to see who could write the best song, or play the longest or the loudest or the fastest. The second night of the feasts was the Ladies’ Feast, where there were special delicacies for all the women and girls, and the men brought them crowns of winter greenery for their hair and composed poems for them. That was Celie’s favorite night. Last year Rolf had written a funny poem for her that had made everyone laugh, and Pogue Parry, the blacksmith’s handsome son, had given Celie a beautiful crown with shining red berries in it that she had carefully saved on a shelf in her wardrobe. But this year promised to be the best year in Celie’s lifetime. Her brother, Bran, had graduated from the College of Wizardry and with a wizard in attendance, there were sure to be displays of magic, illusions, and possibly 2

even fireworks. Celie barely remembered her grandfather, the former Royal Wizard, who had died when she was five, but Rolf and Lilah had often spoken of his fireworks and his ability with illusions. “These are going to be the best winter holidays we have ever had,” Celie told Rolf the day before the first feast. They were in Rolf’s chambers, attempting to roll a spyglass in linen wrappings as a surprise for their father. The spyglass had knobs on each side where it could be fitted into a tripod, which made the wrapping harder than Celie had thought. The necklace they had gotten for their mother, Queen Celina, had come in a small leather case, which had been terribly convenient. But the glass master’s apprentice had strolled right into the main hall with the finished spyglass cradled in his arms, and Rolf and Celie had nearly tackled him in an effort to hide the gift before King Glower saw it. “I’m so excited to see what Bran has planned,” Celie went on, when Rolf just grunted in reply. He was trying to hold the edge of the linen in place while Celie tied some bright blue twine around the bundle. “Was Bran supposed to plan something?” Rolf’s hand slipped and he mumbled a word that Celie had once heard one of the grooms say. “Yes,” Celie said. “You and Lilah are always telling me what Grandfather used to do at the feasts. Now it’s Bran’s turn.” “Someone should probably tell Bran, then,” Rolf said. 3

“You know how he is: head in the clouds. He’s so deep into his research on the Castle, I doubt if he’s even planning to attend the feasts.” Celie nearly dropped the ball of twine in shock. “Not come to the feasts? But he hasn’t been home for the winter holidays in years!” “Because he’s a wizard,” Rolf pointed out. “And wizards think their own thoughts and practice their own traditions and do their own wizardy things. You know that, Cel . . . Cel?” Rolf finally seemed to notice that Celie was no longer trying to tie up the spyglass with the twine, but was staring at him in horror instead. “But he’ll at least come to the feasts? And sit with the family?” It had been so long since Bran had been with the family that Celie didn’t even remember what it had been like when he was there. And the idea that he might not attend the feasts even now that he was living in the Castle again felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. “He’s a grown wizard, Cel,” Rolf said patiently. “It’s for him to decide what he does.” “Is it? But he’s also still our brother!” Celie didn’t care that her voice came out so shrill. She hastily tied off the twine and then ran out of the room. She thought about going to her father and demanding that he order Bran to participate in the feasts, or maybe 4

to their mother, to plead with him. Then she decided to face Bran herself. But finding a wizard when he does not wish to be found is rather difficult. Celie went to Bran’s rooms, but they were empty. She went to the throne room, drawing a questioning look from her father, which she ignored, but he wasn’t there either. She tried the library and the Spyglass Tower, where she and Rolf and Lilah had lived for a few terrible weeks that past summer. She was so upset that at first she didn’t notice that the Castle kept steering her past the corridor where the holiday feasting hall would appear. But on the fifth pass, she stopped in front of the blank wall and tapped her foot with impatience. “What is it?” The Castle didn’t answer. But when Celie finally gave up and turned around, the only way out of the corridor was through the door to her bedchamber, which had mysteriously appeared. No sooner had she stepped inside and closed the door behind her, than someone knocked. She opened it up to find her sister, Lilah; beyond Lilah the corridor was once again the same as usual, with no sign of the wall where the holiday feasting hall appeared. “There you are,” Lilah grumbled. “I’ve been looking for you for hours!” Lilah hustled into the room with her arms full of gowns. “Here are your new gowns for the feasts,” she said, laying them carefully on Celie’s bed. “The blue one is for 5

the First Feast tomorrow night. Then—pay attention!— the red is for the Ladies’ Feast, the green for the Turning of the Year, blue with lace is for the Starlight Feast, and yellow with red for the Final Feast. Please remember: you’re supposed to match me and Mother.” Lilah turned to flounce back out of the room. “Lilah, wait!” Celie grabbed her sister’s sleeve as she went by. “What is it? I’m supposed to help Mother get the gifts ready for Ma’am Housekeeper and Cook,” Lilah said, tugging her sleeve free. Her eyes were already on the door, and she was clearly thinking of her next task, and her next after that. “Rolf says that Bran may be too wizardly to come to the feasts,” Celie said in a rush, and then she waited for Lilah to assure her that Rolf was wrong. “Oh, Celie,” Lilah said with a sigh, turning back to her little sister and laying a hand on her arm. “Bran has his work as the Royal Wizard to think of, and also his commitment to studying the Castle. He can’t just drop everything to come to a feast or entertain you with fireworks.” She patted Celie’s cheek in an irritatingly maternal way. “But it’s his first winter holidays back home at the Castle,” Celie protested. “Darling,” Lilah said, still doing her best impression of their mother. “I think you expect too much of the holidays, every year. You always want everything to be 6

perfect, and when it isn’t, you’re so terribly disappointed. I swear you did this last year, and the year before. Every gift has to be just so, and the music, and the food. It’s time for you to put aside whatever dream you have of the holidays, and just enjoy the way things really are.” And with those comfortless words, Lilah bustled out the door. Celie didn’t sleep at all that night, and the next day passed in a haze. She managed to get the new blue gown on all right, and sat, numb, while Lilah did her hair, but she hardly spoke and she couldn’t eat at all. Everyone seemed to think she was excited over the coming First Feast, but Celie could hardly remember a time when she was less excited about the start of the winter holidays. With her father and mother, Lilah, Rolf, the royal council, and the rest of the Castle staff, Celie gathered in front of the bare wall that would soon arch open to reveal the holiday feasting hall. At precisely the moment when the sun dipped behind the western mountains, there was a groaning of stone and an arch reared up in the wall before them. Beyond it was the great feasting hall where the residents of Castle Glower and their chosen guests would spend most of the next five days. The table was laden with food, and what seemed to be millions of golden ribbons hung from the ceiling, each with a round silver pendant bearing the crest of Castle Glower dangling from its end. The walls were draped with more gold ribbons and silver pendants, along with scrolls bearing prayers for a prosperous new year. 7

The residents of the Castle rushed inside, exclaiming over the decorations and the food as they did every year. King Glower took his place at the head of the great table, and Queen Celina sat at the foot. There were little cards at each plate with the guest’s name on them, and everyone else milled around for a time, trying to find their places. Celie found herself at her father’s right hand, a place of unexpected honor, with Rolf across from her. Lilah was just a little ways down the table with Prince Lulath of Grath, who had bowed and kissed Celie’s cheek while they were finding their places in a way that would have normally delighted her, but now just added to her distractions. “Papa, where is Bran?” Celie tried to whisper, but the musicians were already at their places in the gallery and beginning to tune their instruments, so she had to raise her voice to ask again. “Isn’t Bran coming?” “I don’t rightly know, dear,” King Glower said, shaking out his napkin as if it didn’t much matter. “Did he say he was coming?” Rolf gave her an I-told-you-so look, but Celie ignored him. “Even the potboys are here, Father,” Celie said, pointing down the table to them. “Shouldn’t the Royal Wizard attend?” “Royal Wizards are vastly different from potboys,” King Glower replied sagely. “Now, let us do justice to this magnificent feast!” He raised his voice at this last, and everyone cheered and began to eat. 8

Except for Celie, who could only pick at her food. “I wish to propose a toast,” a voice boomed throughout the massive hall, cutting off the musicians. Celie looked around but couldn’t figure out who had spoken. To judge from the startled murmurs and craned necks of the other guests, neither could most of the people seated around the long table. But then Celie caught her father’s eye. King Glower was watching her and smiling. He gave a little nod with his head toward the small dais below the musicians’ gallery, where guests could stand to recite poetry or sing. There was nothing there, and Celie looked back at her father, puzzled. The king just turned in his chair so that he was facing the dais, so Celie looked again . . . . . . and saw a goblet floating in the air above the dais. It was large, and gold, and whatever it contained made the air above it shimmer. “A toast, to Princess Cecelia, beloved of Castle Glower and fearless defender of Sleyne,” the voice boomed out again. The guests all rose to their feet and raised their goblets, then the floating goblet tipped and out poured sparks of gold and scarlet. When they hit the floor they fizzed and bounced and then began to careen around the feasting hall, spinning and changing color before exploding. The guests cheered and clapped and drank from their goblets, but Celie could not take her eyes off the dais. There was a clap of thunder and the holder of the goblet 9

suddenly appeared: Bran in his wizardly robes of deep blue, grinning at her. He swirled his goblet and out of it flew a pair of tiny blue birds, with a necklace of garnets strung between their beaks. They flew to Celie and the necklace dropped about her neck and fastened itself. “Oh, Bran!” Celie felt her eyes fill with tears. “Not celebrate the winter holidays with us? Honestly, Cel!” Rolf laughed and threw a roll toward her. It landed on Lilah’s plate and made her squawk. Celie couldn’t think of a retort, but it didn’t matter because another chair and another place setting had appeared just across from her, and now Bran was sitting in it, grinning widely. “The necklace is actually from Mother and Father,” he told her as she sank down into her seat, one hand on the jewels around her neck. “The fireworks are from me.” There was another clap of thunder, and tiny silver stars rained down on the feasting hall, settling in the guests’ hair and making them all glow. At the same time, a large dish of chocolate custard, Celie’s favorite sweet, appeared directly in front of her plate. “I believe that,” Bran said, indicating the stars and the custard, “is from the Castle.”

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Think the holidays were magical at Castle Glower? Wait until you see what the castle does every day of the week! Don’t miss Princess Celie and Castle Glower in… Now in paperback!

Coming in May 2013!

“Castle Glower is the true star of this charming story of court intrigue and magic. A satisfying mix of Hogwarts and Howl’s Moving Castle.”—School Library Journal

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