Free The Autumn Castle by Kim Wilkins Page B

always forgot their names—while they packed a trunk for her to take with her.
    “Could I advise, Queen Mayfridh, that you don’t take such a big trunk with you?” This was Eisengrimm, as Wolf, lying amongst
     the rumpled white bedcovers with his face resting on his front paws.
    “What do you mean?” she demanded. Eisengrimm could be infuriatingly calm in the most hectic of circumstances.
    “You can come back for clothes. You can make the passage back at any time. And besides, you know that your clothes don’t look
     like Real World clothes. You’ll want to go shopping as soon as you get there.”
    Ah yes, that word. “Shopping.” It was one of the Real World concepts that appealed to her the most. Vast buildings full of
     beautiful dresses in ingenious colors and textures, and all to be had by showing a colored square—a credit card.
    “Come, leave all these things behind. You need only take yourself and a bag full of spells.”
    “If Hexebart will comply,” she muttered darkly.
    “Hexebart
must
comply, and she knows that. She may not believe you are the true queen, but she knows you are Queen Liesebet and King Jasper’s
     daughter, and she must give you whatever magic you ask for.”
    “After threats and curses.”
    “She likes to see you angry. You shouldn’t give her the satisfaction.”
    Mayfridh marched over to one of the servants and snatched a yellow dress out of her hands. “That will do,” she said. “All
     of you, you are dismissed. I need nothing further.”
    With bows and nervous murmurs they backed out of the room. She slammed the door shut and flung herself onto the bed next to
     Eisengrimm, flat on her back with her hair spread out around her, gazing up at the white canopy.
    “I’m frightened, Eisengrimm. I’m so frightened.” The fear was like a big, inescapable bubble welling up inside her, making
     her tap her fingers, and twitch her legs, and hold back a fragment of every breath.
    “I know you are, Little May. But look at me, I came back. I was gone but a few hours, and then I came back.”
    She turned on her stomach and met his gaze. “Eisengrimm, what do you think happened to my mother and father?”
    “I know not.”
    “Make a guess then.”
    “I have no way of guessing.”
    “Perhaps they were murdered,” Mayfridh said. The dark fear spun down on her. “Oh, I don’t want to be murdered.”
    “The risk is very low in the Real World. Murder accounts for very few deaths. They may have met with an accident.”
    “But Eisengrimm, we sent a dozen men through to find them. Nobody had heard of them or seen them, nobody found them or their
     bodies. They simply disappeared. A murderer would hide them, would he not? To avoid capture.”
    “It would be best not to think of it, Mayfridh.” He stood and stretched, and jumped from the bed. “Come, we shall pay Hexebart
     a visit.”
    Mayfridh sat up, her legs hanging over the side of the bed. “Eisengrimm,” she said mournfully, “what if they didn’t
want
to be found? What if they liked the Real World so much, they wanted to stay? What if they didn’t really love me?”
    Eisengrimm gripped the sleeve of her dress between his teeth and pulled her to her feet.
    “Yes, yes, I’m coming,” she said, following him with heavy footsteps.

    The early morning was very cool, and a golden autumn glow hung misty over the wild hedges in the garden and the trees in the
     wood. The aspen had already turned bright yellow, and the beech was stained with golden-red. A chance breeze shook leaves
     loose and they spun and dived toward the ground. Mayfridh pulled her pale bronze cloak around her against the morning chill
     as they approached the well.
    “Hexebart!” Eisengrimm called.
    “What do you want, dog-chops?” was the response.
    “Witch, come here!” Mayfridh shouted. The anger jumped in her chest. How she hated Hexebart, the thief of the royal magic.
    “And why should I, you nasty little changeling?”
    “Because I am the