“You can’t use my own words against me like that.”
“I can use whatever words I like, Al Monde,” she retorted, her expression regaining some of its former impishness. “You donuthave a monopoly on them.”
Alex sighed in acceptance and shook his head, slipping the priceless instrument into his pocket. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
Celesta gave him an easy grin despite the dark circles of exhaustion ringing her eyes. “Nuta chance.”
Alex and Celesta rested and finished off the rest of the peppermint sticks while Drosselmeyer focused on mending the broken mirror. He hummed quietly as he worked, and Alex recognized it as the same song the old man had hummed in the hospital. The events of that night seemed like a lifetime ago.
Finally, with a relieved sigh, Drosselmeyer held up the mirror. It looked completely ordinary, the only sign of its magical-ness the faint hum that emanated from the glass. “It’s done,” the wizard announced.
Alex fingered the harmonica in his pocket. “What do I do?”
“When we have Stahlmaus in place, we’ll need you to use your magic to complete the gateway so we can send him–and you–through.”
“Shouldn’t I just do it now so that it will be ready?” Alex asked.
Drosselmeyer shook his head. “Once both ends of the gateway are set, the mirror will be locked in place. That’s how Stahlmaus was able to get through last time–he found the gateway on this side while I was busy in your realm. It’s best to wait until we have him where we want him.”
Alex nodded. There was just one last problem. “I don’t even know how to complete the gateway.”
“Play something that reminds you of home,” Celesta offered brightly. “That’s how we were able to find you before.”
He nodded in understanding at her words, though looking into her brown eyes, a realization slowly dawned.
Alex might be able to play music that reminded him of family and his native realm, but the image that sprang most readily to mind when he thought ofhomewas hers.
Thirteen
ThepalaceatIysenwas the most spectacular thing Alex had ever seen. The frosted walls appeared to be made of ice, rising straight and smooth until they ended in towers with pointed spires. The inside was crystal and cut glass and white marble, and Alex could only imagine the amount of time and effort it took to construct a palace made of such material. When he whispered as much to Celesta, she just looked at him and shrugged. “Magic. We don’t have the same kinds of limitations as your mortal realm.”
They snuck through back doors and servant halls, moving more and more slowly the closer they got to the throne room and Stahlmaus’ private quarters. This was partly for the sake of stealth and partly, much to Alex’s chagrin, to accommodate his slowing movements. The curse, which had been held at bay by Lowen’s magic, was now spreading through his body with alarming speed. By the time they reached the tall double doors of the throne room, Alex could barely bend his knees.
Drosselmeyer whispered something in Celesta’s ear before enveloping her in a fatherly hug. He turned and placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder.
“It has been a pleasure, Alexander,” he said with fondness. “I can’t begin to thank you for what you’ve done for Faerie.”
Alex looked past the wizard’s shoulder and met Celesta’s eyes. “I’m not doing it for Faerie,” he answered honestly.
The old man chuckled and gave him a final pat before squaring his shoulders at the door. Alex followed him, giving Celesta a nod as he passed. The moment seemed too heavy, and his emotions too large to put into words. Instead, all he said was, “Let’s do this, Sugar Plum.”
With the barest of pushes the doors swung open soundlessly, revealing a tall room with vaulted ceilings. The sunshine through the crystal walls made rainbows dance along the floor and ceiling, highlighting the white marble throne and the tall pillars that stood at attention along the sides of the room. Stahlmaus lounged on the throne, fiddling idly with the strings of a violin. He straightened at the sound of their footsteps echoing on the hard floors.
If he was surprised at their appearance, he recovered quickly. “Well, well, well. The prodigal niece returns,” he said coldly, letting his eyes slide over Celesta. “I didn’t think it was possible, but you’re looking a littleless thanyour normal self.”
“Hello, Uncle,” she answered cheerfully. Alex had to admire the way she seemed to be able to let his words slide over her. “Thank you for noticing. I feel more like myelfthan ever before.”
He scowled, no doubt both at her tone and her horrible joke. “I see you’ve brought the rest of your rabble in with you. Wizard,” he sneered in the old man’s direction. His eyes passed dismissively over Alex.
“Stahlmaus,” Drosselmeyer answered flatly. “That’s not quite the greeting I was expecting from someone who was so eager to find me that they laid siege to the Summer Palace.”
The Mouse King shrugged nonchalantly and twisted the tuning pegs on his violin, plucking the strings experimentally. “I found what I was looking for and no longer had need of your services. Of either you or my half-breed, disappointment of a niece. You can both be on your way.” He waved them towards the doors.
“No,” Celesta answered firmly. She took a deep, steadying breath. “You’ll listen to what I have to say.”
“Will I?” The king’s voice was bored. He beckoned to the guards stationed at the corners of the room without looking up from his instrument. “Show them out, please.”
Alex’s blood boiled at Stahlmaus’ callous disrespect, and he could no longer keep silent. “You’ll listen.”
