They left one room and entered another, a gallery of sorts, draped with flags and woven tapestries. One window above an ornate wall hanging had been shattered at some point, and glass crunched beneath their feet. The beam showed signs of dampness beneath the broken pane, but the tapestries had maintained their color, if somewhat dulled by dust.
They walked through the enormous kitchens, past the cold hearths and dangling fire irons and pots and pans. Only dirt marred the surfaces. Everything was in order, as if great preparation had been made for an extended absence. From the kitchens, Sasha led the way into a garden filled with plants that needed tending and rose bushes that were thorny and cross, their bite exceeding their unkempt beauty. Lining the garden were rows of trees laden with fruit of every kind, the rotted carcasses of the fallen apples, peaches, and pears giving the space an over-ripe stench that reminded Kjell of perfumed lords at a stifling soiree.
“There was no one here to eat the fruit or tend my trees,” Sasha mourned.
Kjell plucked an apple from a branch above his head and found it covered with holes. He pitched it over the pale rock wall and reached for another that was without blemish. He bit into it and savored the burst of flavor against his tongue, but when he went to take another bite, he saw the remains of half a worm. His stomach turned, and he tossed the second apple the way of the first.
“Which fruit is forbidden?” he asked.
Sasha shook her head, not understanding. “None of them.”
“Did King Aren plant this garden for his young queen?” he asked. “Or was that simply a story? I seem to remember a forbidden tree and a devious snake in that tale.”
“You are angry,” she said, perplexed.
“I am afraid,” he admitted. “Your stories have all proven to be real.”
She turned in a circle as if she couldn’t quite match her memories with the neglect and didn’t deny his claim.
“It is different than I remember. The landscape is overgrown, the castle abandoned. There aren’t even any bones,” she whispered.
There were animal bones here and there. But there were no Volgar or human bones. Kjell had noticed as well.
They joined the others in the courtyard, noting the listless travelers and the tired guard. The sailors were already talking about returning to the ship. Captain Lortimer wanted to turn back the following day.
“There is nothing here, Captain,” he complained. “Our ship waits in the harbor. It will be close quarters, but there are sufficient supplies—especially considering what we found in Dendar Bay. Everyone wants to go home.”
Padrig returned to the courtyard, Jerick and Isak trailing him, and caught the tail end of Lortimer’s speech.
“We cannot leave. Not yet,” Padrig cried. “I know where they are. I know what has happened. They are there.” He pointed to the groves that hugged the four castle walls and peered down at them, the oddest collection of trees to ever grow side by side, few of them the same variety, none of them uniform in height or spacing.
Lortimer laughed and a few sailors joined him. But Sasha didn’t laugh.
“Like Grandfather Tree?” she asked, horror tinging her voice. The story of Grandfather Tree was one she hadn’t shared.
“No.” Padrig shook his head, adamant. “No. Grandfather went to the forest to pass from this life to the next. The Spinners of Caarn didn’t go to die. They went to hide.”
“And they’re still hiding?” Kjell pressed.
“Why?” Sasha cried.
“I don’t know, Majesty,” Padrig answered, and this time his voice rang true.
“We saw how well you communicate with the trees, Star Maker,” Lortimer mocked, slumped against the stairs leading up to the castle doors.
“I know they are there!” Padrig insisted. “We have come all this way. Surely you can give me a few days to see what can be done.”
Jerick and Isak shifted nervously, and Kjell raised his brow. Jerick moved beside him and spoke in hushed tones, his eyes on the Spinner. “The trees around the castle aren’t like the ones blocking the road, Captain. The Spinner talked to them. He pled with them. But the leaves didn’t even shiver.”
Sasha turned toward Kjell, her eyes pleading. He knew what she was going to say before the words left her mouth.
“The trees at the border moved for you, Captain. Perhaps . . . these trees will listen to you as well.”
“Tomorrow, Saoirse,” Padrig interceded. “One more day won’t matter. We will eat, and we will rest. Then we will see about the trees.”
Sasha didn’t argue, and Kjell let Padrig shuffle the weary travelers inside, promising them all would be well. When night fell, Kjell would slip out among the trees and see for himself if they could simply be asked to spin or if Padrig was in denial.
The Volgar nested like most birds, pulling bits of hair, rope, cloth, straw and mud into mounds to fall into. In the castle, the mattresses were destroyed—gutted and scored—but that was all. The Volgar were beasts, and beasts didn’t sit in chairs or toast their success. They hunted. They grazed. They slept. And when there was no blood to drink or flesh to eat, they quickly moved on.
There had been nothing to eat in the castle. Nothing to eat in all of Caarn, besides other animals. The Volgar had cleared Caarn of her livestock and wildlife and quickly moved on to richer pickings.
A consensus was drawn that they would camp together in the Great Hall for the time being, and they cleared the soaring gallery of dirt and debris, beating the rugs and restoring order to the space. There were linens in the closets and brooms and rags stored neatly in the huge palace washroom. Kjell eyed the iron basins with longing. He wanted to be clean. The kitchen and washroom both boasted odd spigots that rose like great hooks with long handles and drew the water from deep in the ground. Sasha demonstrated the spigot in the kitchen to the awestruck gathering, pumping the odd handle determinedly until water gurgled forth, filling one bucket after another, to be heated later in the huge cauldrons on the row of hearths.
“The last three cauldrons are always kept full, the water hot, so that a bath can be easily drawn. There are hearths and cauldrons in the castle laundry as well, and the servants usually bathe there.”