Sleeping Beauty, the One Who Took the Really Long Nap (8 page)

Ever since Percival had heard me calling out for Rose, he had not left me alone. “I shall find out on my own,” he threatened, “so you might as well tell me.”

I refused. So Percival took it upon himself to use his many connections in town, and eventually found out almost as much of the story as I had. I knew this because every time he learned something new he was only too quick to share it with me. Half the time when I arrived at the old castle, no matter what the season or weather, he was already there with his own set of tools. He even had a special tool made for him by one of the engineers at the castle. Why hadn't I thought of that? I wished the fleas of a thousand armies would take up residence in his armpits.

I watched as he used his new device to hack away at the vines. To my horror and dismay, they snapped! He turned to me with a huge gloating grin on his face, but in that second, the vines curled back in and reaffixed themselves. We
couldn't even see where the breaks had occurred. His smile faded.

I left him there, trying again and again, but getting the same result. It finally sunk in, after nearly two years, that neither Pervical nor I nor anyone else was getting in there until whoever or whatever was protecting the princess decided to let us in. That day's events convinced me that until the ten decades had completely passed it was no use trying. The only problem was: I didn't know when exactly that day would be. My only solace was that I was quite certain that Percival was still unaware of the whole hundred-years aspect of the curse. This gave me the slightest advantage.

Weeks went by without Percival ever going into the woods. He studied with whichever tutor was still there on a given day, or he played polo in the fields, or visited friends in town. I did not much care what he did, as long as he stayed away from the old castle. I tried to convince Father to send him back home, but he pointed out that since Percival had arrived, I hadn't run away once. Therefore, he felt Percival must be a good influence on me. I could not explain that the only reason I hadn't run away was that I needed to keep a constant eye on him.

The night before my sixteenth birthday I could not fall asleep. My parents had begun talking of finding me a wife, and Mother even brought some women home for me to
meet. One had a lazy eye and a limp, one was thirty years my senior, and another had such a large nose I could not see her mouth when she spoke. Mother, of course, thought they were perfect.

I crept out of the house and into the garden. I had grown much too big for the swing, but I sat on it anyway, hoping the chains wouldn't pull out of the tree. I stared into the mermaid fountain, remembering the day I had filled it when my parents were away. It had been so pretty and soothing to watch. As I continued to stare into it, I thought I heard a gurgling sound coming from it. I peered closer and could swear that just for a split second I could see the water sloshing around. Was the moonlight pulling a trick on me?

I kept watching, but nothing happened. A cloud passed in front of the moon and I yawned. Before I left the garden I went to check on my hidden rosebush. Since it was nighttime, the roses should have been closed up. But one rose shone bright as day. I touched a petal and dew came off on my hand. At that moment I knew: Tomorrow was a hundred years. The fountain, the rose — that's what they were trying to tell me.

I did not sleep all night.

The blackness that came after being stuck with the spindle was different than when I fell from the horse. I could still sense what was going on around me, but I could not explain how. I could not see or hear or feel the touch of hands, but when people were near me, I was aware of it. When they were not, time passed in a hazy, dreamlike way. I knew my family had taken me home. I knew I was in my bed and that the young fairy was somehow protecting me. I could still sense my parents. I knew they were not anywhere in the castle, but that they were still nearby.

Then one day — I did not know how many years later — I could not feel them at all. I wanted to claw my way out of the foggy darkness to find out why, but I could not.

I sensed new people, new families, but they were hazy and distant.

I slept on.

Once, while enveloped in my deep fog, I was aware of a young man outside the castle walls. I could not hear anything,
but I knew he was trying to get inside. No one had come this close to me before. I sensed a kindness and a generosity of spirit. I was not frightened. I also sensed the young fairy's presence. The young man left. Every few years he would pass nearby, but he never tried to get in again.

I slept on.

And on.

And on.

One night I sensed a boy outside the castle walls. He was lonely and scared, but curious. He came back often. For the next few years, his visits gently pierced the darkness. I sensed him growing from a boy to a young man. He grew stronger, yet his loneliness never abated. He had a great capacity for love and beauty. Another young man accompanied him sometimes, but I knew no friendship passed between them. I knew all this only in the vaguest sense, the way one knows characters in a dream.

I slept on.

The morning of my sixteenth birthday I waited impatiently for the sun to rise. At the first glimmer of pink over the hillside, I got out of bed and carefully picked out my clothes. If I were going to meet a princess today, I wanted to look as prince-like as possible. I put on a white ruffled shirt, a red tunic, and black britches. I affixed a small dagger to my belt, and even took a moment to comb my hair.

I crept to Percival's room and pressed my ear against his door. I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard rhythmic snoring. With a happy wave to the early-morning staff, I walked steadily and purposefully across the lawn. My heart began to beat faster as I stepped into the woods. I was so familiar with them, I could have found the old castle with my eyes closed.

The sun threw shafts of light onto the roof of the castle, and dew still shimmered on every leaf and vine. My heart raced with anticipation.

“I wondered when you'd get here, old friend,” Percival said, appearing from around the corner of the building.

The color drained from my face. “But … but I just heard you snoring.”

He waved his hand. “Nah, that was my page, Henry. Sounds like a blacksmith banging on a sword when he sleeps.”

I had to swallow hard to keep from screaming. “What are you doing here, Percival?”

“You don't think you're the only one who knows what day this is, do you?”

I took a deep breath. Was this how it would all end? Percival would awaken the princess? I could not let that happen. “Stand aside, Percival. This is my land, and my destiny.”

He laughed. “Go to sleep, old friend.” Then I saw his arm rise up and felt it come down hard on my head. My legs gave way, and the ground beneath me swelled. I steadied myself with my hands and used all my concentration to shake off the blow. By the time I was able to stand again, Percival was directly in front of the castle door. Since he, too, had figured out it was an exact replica of our own, he knew where the door was hidden. He raised a hand and grabbed at a bunch of vines. He pulled back, clearly expecting them to snap off in his hands. They did not. He tried to let go of
them but found them stuck to his hand. I watched in amazement as the vines began to thicken. Before either of us could blink twice, the vines had fully encased him! He screamed, but vines soon covered his mouth as well.

He fell to the ground and rolled a few feet. Looking up at me with pleading eyes, he tried to wrestle free. As much as I disliked him, I could not let him suffocate. I pulled at the vines, trying to loosen them from around his face and neck. I was able to clear a small hole where his nose was, so he could breathe easily. He snorted as he inhaled big breaths of air. I could dislodge nothing else.

“Sorry, old friend,” I said to him. “That is the best I can do.”

He glared at me as I stepped over him and up to the door. Just as I had always dreamed, the vines parted for me like they were no more than pieces of string. I pushed the heavy wooden door open, expecting it to squeak horribly from disuse. Instead, it glided open smoothly and nearly soundlessly. It felt incredibly strange to be walking through a place that was so familiar and yet so foreign at the same time. I recognized some of the same furniture and the silver tea set, although everything here was much brighter and cleaner. No dust or grime anywhere. The chandelier glowed brightly. How could the oil have lasted a hundred years? This was powerful magic.

I stood in the center of the Great Hall, wondering which way to go. I swore I heard the same faint humming sound as when I was a child. I had not heard it in years. I turned around and raced up the stairs. I hurried past the room that would have been my parents' room in our castle and headed directly toward my chambers. When I reached the familiar door, I hesitated for only a second before pushing it open.

I knew he was coming before he knew it himself. I had been feeling different lately. Lighter, less foggy and confused. All my senses began to tingle as he approached. No one had been this close to me since time out of mind. The details of my life were still very hazy and disjointed.

I felt his hair graze my forehead. It was the first thing I had felt since Mama's hands in mine. How long ago was that? I did not know. Then I felt his lips press against mine. It was as though he was breathing life back into me. The blood pulsed again in my veins. I heard a bird chirp outside and it was the most wonderful sound I'd ever heard. My eyes snapped open but my head had not fully cleared. Who was this strange man in my bedroom? He was kind of cute. In fact, he was very cute.
Handsome
, that was the word. And tall. I sat up and demanded he explain himself. Normally I would not have been so abrupt, but the situation was very confusing.

The young man told me he was a prince, and that I had
been asleep for a hundred years. My eyes widened as I listened. The memories came flooding back in a torrent. My gentle father, the king. My loving mother, the queen. The fairy's curse. All the dreams where I wasn't quite awake, yet wasn't quite asleep. And now it was a hundred years later and I had been kissed awake by a handsome prince. Well, it was certainly better than having water thrown on my face.

I stumbled out of bed, and he caught me. His arms were strong. He felt familiar to me, and I was not scared. Then suddenly it was his turn to stumble. He turned white and backed away from me, toward my wardrobe. I tried to reach for him before he fell, but I was still too unsteady and could not get there in time. He fell hard against the wardrobe and slowly slid to the floor. Unsure what else to do, and with some cobwebs still in my head, I made my way into the sitting room and filled a bucket with the water that was still sitting, crisp and clear, in my cistern.

I returned to my bedroom, checked the Prince for a pulse, and dumped the bucket of water over his head. I poured the last few drops into my own mouth.

He sputtered and the color returned to his face. His eyes opened, and I could see relief spread all over his face.

Hands on my hips, I asked, “Who is supposed to be awakening who here?”