Page 53 of A Castle of Broken Memories

Mariana gently extricated her hands from their death grip, her voice gentle. “I’d like you to tell us everything you remember about your first days here. Do you think you can do that?”

Harp dipped her head. “I can try.”

“Good girl,” Mariana cooed, and I swallowed a wayward flash of jealousy when Harp’s strings trilled a happy, little tune. But then I pictured the words coming from my own mouth, as I fisted a handful of Mariana’s wild curls in my hand…

And abruptly broke that thought off, before I ended up with an entirely different problem.

The tiniest of smirks played at the corner of Mariana’s mouth, as if she could see my dirty thoughts as plain as day. But she kept her attention on Harp, saying, “You try, and we’ll listen.”

32

“Where do I even begin,” Harp worried, hands fluttering about her person—fiddling with this and fussing with that. “It’s been so long, and yet, I was only here for a few years before the curse set in. I’m not sure how much I can recall.”

“Whatever you can remember is fine,” I assured her. “Don’t worry about it making sense. Just anything that comes to mind.”

“There was…a room. A dark room, lit only by candles. It was damp and chilly and smelled of… of flowers. Like ones that had been sitting in a vase a bit too long.” Harp’s fidgeting slowed as her gaze drifted off in the distance. “And there was a tall—very tall—woman wearing a mask over the upper half of her face and long, flowing robes. She looked at me, and I… I thought she seemed kind of sad. She said, ‘I’m sorry, but what the young prince wants, the young prince gets.’”

Harp blinked, looking almost startled by her own words. “I’d forgotten that.”

“You’re doing great,” I said.

Jack nodded beside me. “Really great. Was that your first memory?”

“Yes.” Harp gestured around at the stage. “Soon after that I was carried upstairs and placed behind the curtain. There was a celebration that evening here in the ballroom—a birthday party for Artie—and I was brought out to perform. Afterwards, I was presented as a gift for His Highness.”

“What the young prince wants, the young prince gets,” I murmured, eyeing the curved arch of the stringed instrument protruding from Harp’s back. When I’d first examined it, I’d felt the most curious energy radiating from the strings. Like the thrum of multi-layered enchantments. One for Harp’s magic, one for her creation… what else?

There’d been more than two layers, I was certain of it.

“We were in the prince’s room earlier and found a golden egg hidden inside the bedding,” Jack said. “It was charred black inside. Mariana thinks it might have held the curse before it was unleashed. Do you know anything about it?”

“A golden egg,” Harp mused. She shook her head. “I don’t recall anything like that. But then, I wasn’t in his room the day the curse swept through the castle. They carried me in here to perform for the party. It was Artie’s tenth birthday.”

“There was wrapping on the floor,” I said. “The egg might have been given to him as a gift?”

Harp wrung her hands. “Possibly. Everyone brought him a gift. It was the prince’s tenth birthday, after all. There was a table overflowing with them at the party.”

“Well, then, what about enemies?” I pressed. “Did the prince have any that might go to such drastic lengths to kill him?”

“He was ten years old,” Harp protested. “A child. Who could possibly hold a grudge against a child?”

I sighed. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“I’m sorry,” Harp said. “I know you need answers.”

“It would have been nice,” I admitted. “But it can’t be helped. You’re the only living thing left in this castle that can actually talk. If you don’t know who the curse originated from, odds are we’ll never know.”

“So where does that leave us with ending the curse?” Jack asked.

“It leaves us…” I made a face. “Not great. If we can retrieve the egg from the foyer, along with my spell-working tools, I could work the spell again, hoping our assumptions are right. Then again, if they’re not...” I grimaced.

“Who doesn’t love a good gamble?” Jack remarked wryly, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, I say let’s go for it,” Harp declared. “I’ve been stuck on this lousy stage for sixty years,” she added when Jack and I gave her matching looks of surprise. “I need to see people again. See other rooms.” Her voice trembled, and my heart squeezed when a tear trickled down her cheek. “I can’t even remember what it felt like to feel the sun on my face,” she whispered. “Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

“Harp,” Jack rasped. “I didn’t think… gods, I should have realized how hard this was on you.”

“Why would you?” Harp gave him a watery smile. “I’m just an enchanted object. I’m not supposed to have feelings.”