*
He pushed on the lever, let out the stop; and the steam wagon grumpily chugged into life.
All his puppets were safely stored in the back, out of view of everyone. Not that anyone was giving him and his wagon even a second glance today. As he carefully made his way around the edges of the huge crowd that had gathered in the square, all eyes were on the palace’s balcony. They gasped, sighed and cheered as he slowly made his way towards one of the snaking streets that would take him out of town.
There was no need to stay here any longer. The Illuminator had already fulfilled his side of the bargain; in fact, it had turned out, he had fulfilled it months ago, as he had already illustrated and published their story. It had already been read by thousands of people, and was probably being read at this very moment too. It meant that, like his wife, he would gradually succumb to the Fading. But more importantly, it ensured that in the imaginations of so many, many readers, their daughter was truly a living, breathing girl.
The crowd cheered ecstatically as, high up on her balcony, where she had appeared for the very first time only moments ago, the Princess gave a last few, final waves.
‘Oh, she’s just so beautiful, don’t you think Father?’ his daughter sighed as, seated alongside him, she leant over slightly in her seat to get a better view.
‘Very beautiful,’ her father grinned, his eyes on his daughter rather than on the Princess.
As the Princess left the balcony and moved back into her rooms, his daughter at last sat up properly in her seat.
‘Do you think that, one day,’ she asked, ‘people will tell fabulous stories about her?’
‘Of course they will,’ her father replied, giving her a loving hug. ‘Just as, one day, I’m sure they’ll be telling wonderful stories about you too, Carey!’
*
Chapter 39
Carey sat bolt upright in her chair, clutching at her heart as if to check that it was still beating, that it wasn’t just an area warmed by a spirit-fuelled flame.
‘I’m…I’m not a puppet!’ she exclaimed, angry and bewildered.
‘Of course you’re not a puppet, Carey!’
The Illuminator was standing quite close, having finished his work. Stepping closer, he affectionately and reassuringly placed his hands on her shoulders.
‘He really was your father; and your mother was really your mother, for she gave birth to you, and your father gave life to you. Just as much as any father and mother give birth and life to their child.’
‘The Porcelain Child! Then she…she really was my mother?’
She grimaced in anguish as she recalled the innumerable times that she had touched and felt the presence of that beautiful, wonderful woman portrayed in the illustrations; and she had never, ever realised that this woman was her mother.
‘No!’ She furiously leapt from her chair, sending it spinning and falling behind her. ‘This isn’t natural! I’m not natural!’
Her body almost froze with horror at the realisation, her face crumpling in distress, the tears welling up in her eyes, falling down her cheeks.
The Illuminator took her in his arms, holding her close, holding her tenderly.
‘It’s hard to understand just yet,’ he admitted sympathetically. ‘But in those very first days of a child’s creation in the womb, when it’s the very smallest and most malleable collection of cells, what do you think is really giving it the will to take form? Haven’t I already explained that? You were simply helped to take form in a material hardly less malleable, brought into being as you flowed into life through the incredible love of your mother and father. And now that everyone has read the new story of the achievements of you and your friends, how can they fail to see that you deserve to live at last like a real girl?’
Carey pulled back slightly, more confused than ever.
‘But…but I’ve always thought of myself as being a real girl?’
‘And you are, you are! But everyone who’s read The Porcelain Child and The Porcelain Room still see you as a girl of fourteen, Carey!’
‘Well yes, of course, I…I…’
She was trying to work out in her bewildered mind what the Illuminator could be hinting at.
‘But the Princess?’ she said uncertainly. ‘She’s almost a hundred years old?’
The Illuminator nodded in a way that implied he not only agreed but also wanted her to keep putting further pieces of the puzzle together.
‘But she was created as a copy of me, which means…’
‘Which means, Carey, that we need to show everyone how you’ve grown and matured inside. I know they want everything to turn out well for you and your friends. We had to let them know it’s now time for them to help and let you really grow.’
The great door swung partially open. The Princess slipped in through the gap. The door opened wider, allowing a few wildly grinning young men and women to step through, most of whom looked strangely familiar to Carey. Behind them all, after he let go of the door, came a similarly wildly grinning Grudo.
And immediately, Carey recognised the rest of her friends. She rushed towards them all, unsure who to hug and hold first, calling out their names in surprise and delight.
‘Neris! Peregun! Durndrin! You’re really alive!’
Now they were humans, they were all taller, all younger than they had been, being around eighteen or twenty. They hugged her back, a look of happy surprise still etched on all their faces.
‘And you,’ Neris said mysteriously, fondly stroking Carey’s face, ‘you look so wonderful!’
‘Grudo!’
He, at least, wasn’t taller than he had been. But he was now much warmer and softer to hug.
‘You did it girl, you did it!’ he proclaimed proudly, giving her an extra tight hug.
‘And Ferena!’ Carey exclaimed as she at last noticed the small fairy flying around their heads.
Ferena lightly landed on Carey’s shoulder.
‘Isn’t it wonderful, Carey?’ she trilled joyously. ‘The Princess says this is obviously what everyone wanted for us.’
‘But Dougy, where’s Dou–’
Carey stopped in mid-sentence as a young boy sheepishly stepped towards her.
‘I never really wanted to be a dog,’ he explained with a weak smile, his voice apologetic yet getting brighter and more excited as he added, ‘but I’ve always liked messing around; so this is perfect, really.’
The Princess had politely remained standing to one side. She warmly smiled when Carey at last glanced her way.
‘I suppose we’re sort of sisters, yes?’
‘Sort of,’ Carey agreed with a chuckle.
Reaching for each other, they embraced each other as if they were indeed long-lost sisters.
‘But I don’t understand,’ Carey admitted as they slightly stood apart once more. ‘Why…why are you still like this, still of porcelain; when you could obviously be really alive, be real too?’
‘Oh, but I’m perfectly happy with who I am; and I am alive,’ the Princess declared cheerfully, opening the compartment by her heart.
The flame still remained unlit. Yet the Princess was moving and talking; and giggling happily.
‘Then you…’ Carey began unsurely.
‘Let you through to meet the Illuminator? Of course!’
She stepped closer to Carey once more, reaching up to lovingly touch her face, making her turn her head slightly so that she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror that appeared amongst the whirling images.
‘And I think it was all worth it, don’t you; my wonderful, older sister?’
Despite its translucency, the mirror reflected Carey’s own image back to her faultlessly.
No wonder the Princess had had to reach up to touch her! Carey was taller than she had been, more assured in her stance and the directness of her look
. She possessed a different kind of beauty too, one she instantly felt perfectly at ease with.
‘And now, if you don’t mind,’ the Illuminator pronounced with a satisfied grin, ‘I do have a great deal of work to do here!’
They all left the room, observing and embracing each other with undiminishing amazement, laughing, and wondering what they should all do together next.
‘My garden, everyone, you must see my garden!’ the Princess announced gleefully.
The garden; at last Carey could remember the day she’d been in the garden. It was the day she’d first noticed how wonderfully gorgeous flowers were, how amazingly brightly coloured butterflies could be.
It had also been the day her father had helped give life to the Princess – her younger sister.
‘And a show; we must start working on a new show,’ they all agreed. ‘One we’ll call The Porcelain Princess!’
*
Postscript
by the Illuminator
Well, isn’t that how stories about young, beautiful princesses are supposed to end?
Our rich yet once lonely Princess now has friends, even a long-lost older sister, and a whole library full of all those love poems she just so loves to read.
What more could she possibly want?
What’s that?
Really?
You think that’s the perfect ending, do you?
You know what?
I think I agree with you!
Yes, yes; that would indeed be a very happy ending for the Princess.
Thank you so much!
She really will enjoy that ending, I’m certain.
Oh dear – in fact, I can already hear his singing!
And he really can’t hit those high notes, can he?
End
If you enjoyed reading this book, you might also enjoy (or you may know someone else who might enjoy) these other books by Jon Jacks.
The Caught – The Rules – Chapter One – The Changes – Sleeping Ugly
The Barking Detective Agency – The Healing – The Lost Fairy Tale
A Horse for a Kingdom – Charity – The Most Beautiful Things – The Last Train
The Dream Swallowers – Nyx; Granddaughter of the Night – Jonah and the Alligator
Glastonbury Sirens – Dr Jekyll’s Maid – The 500-Year Circus
P – The Endless Game – DoriaN A – Wyrd Girl – The Wicker Slippers
Heartache High (Vol I) – Heartache High: The Primer (Vol II) – Heartache High: The Wakening (Vol III)
Miss Terry Charm, Merry Kris Mouse & The Silver Egg
Seecrets – The Cull – Dragonsapien – The Boy in White Linen
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