To the Palace

The view of the palace from the hill was quite pleasing, however. It was an extremely large shrubbery grown in five wings, laid out like the petals of a flower. Some of it was open to the violet sky, but there were pale roofs covering parts. The children later saw that these were woven reed mats. The palace was surrounded by lush gardens, elegant and symmetrical, with every color of flower they had ever seen and several they had never before found in nature. The children wished they could stay on the hill and admire it, rather than descend and face whatever fate awaited them there.

When they reached the palace they discovered that a briar hedge, a tall and vicious tangle of wicked long thorns, surrounded the lovely gardens. Guards patrolled outside the briars. The sun (wherever it was) must have been setting, for the atmosphere was as gloomy as the children’s mood. Even Adolphus was quiet.

They passed through a gate in the hedge after brief discussion between the gate guards and their own guards. They all wore the same uniform, had the same high cheekbones and black eyes. One of the gate guards ran ahead of them into the compound.

Once inside the briars they dismounted, and the flower-horses were lead away by short, green-skinned fellows with papery husks where their hair should have been. Claire leaned towards the twins and whispered, “Tomatillos.”

They continued on foot through the gardens, where luxuriant flowers gleamed in the dimming light. At last they entered the palace shrubbery. The pale roofing they had seen was made of woven reed mats, which were hung as walls as well. They passed more people in the halls, some guards but more servants, hustling about with trays and cloth and baskets. Many of them resembled tomatillos, like the stable hands, others of them looked like the farmers they had met, the potato people.

As they walked, the lead guard gave them instructions.

“You will fall to your knees before the Queen. If you would beg for mercy, grovel before her. Let your pale faces be darkened with the sacred soil beneath her feet.”

“No, really? Grovel?” Adolphus shook his head. “I don’t know that I’m much for groveling. Can I try charming first?”

“When in Rome, do as the Romans do,” Gerhardt said. “Isn’t that what they say?”

“That’s not what Mother says,” Claire said.

“Mother says, when in Rome, try the espresso,” Annabelle finished her sister’s thought.

Gerhardt swallowed. “If we meet any coffee, I’ll ask him for help.”

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