The Book of Lost Things [124]
“Is that the Book of Lost Things in your hands?” asked David. “They say that it contains all kinds of knowledge, perhaps even magic. Is that true?”
The king’s eyes glittered. “Oh, very true, very true. I will give it to you when I abdicate and the crown becomes yours. It will be my coronation gift. With it, you can order the Crooked Man to do your will, and he will have to obey. Once you are king, I will have no more use for it.”
For a moment, the king looked almost regretful. Yet again, his fingers traveled across the cover of the book, smoothing down loose threads, exploring the places where the spine had begun to separate from the rest. It was like a living thing to him, as though his heart had also been removed from his body when he came to this land and it had taken the form of a book.
“And what will happen to you once I am king?” asked David.
The king looked away before he replied. “Oh, I will leave here and find some quiet place in which to enjoy my retirement,” he said. “Perhaps I will even return to our world to see what has changed there since I left it.”
But his words sounded hollow, and his voice cracked beneath the weight of his guilt and lies.
“I know who you are,” said David softly.
The king leaned forward on his throne. “What did you say?”
“I know who you are,” David repeated. “You are Jonathan Tulvey. Your adopted sister’s name was Anna. You were jealous of her when she was brought to your home, and that jealousy never went away. The Crooked Man came and showed you how a life without her could be, and you betrayed her. You tricked her into following you through the sunken garden and into this place. The Crooked Man killed her and ate her heart, then kept her spirit in a glass jar. That book on your lap contains no magic, and its only secrets are yours. You are a sad, evil old man, and you can keep your kingdom and your throne. I don’t want it. I don’t want any of it.”
A figure emerged from the shadows.
“Then you will die,” said the Crooked Man.
He appeared much older than when David had last seen him, and his skin looked torn and diseased. There were wounds and blisters upon his face and hands, and he stank of his own corruption.
“You have been busy, I see,” said the Crooked Man. “You have been sticking your nose in places where you had no business. You have taken something that belongs to me. Where is she?”
“She does not belong to you,” said David. “She does not belong to anyone.”
David drew his sword. This time, it shook a little as his hand trembled, but not very much.
The Crooked Man just laughed at him. “No matter,” he said. “She had reached the end of her usefulness. Be careful lest the same can be said of you. Death is coming for you, and no sword can keep it away. You think you’re brave, but let’s see how brave you are when there is hot wolf breath and spittle upon your face and your throat is about to be ripped out. Then you will weep and wail and you will call for me, and perhaps I will answer. Perhaps…
“Tell me your brother’s name and I will save you from all pain. I promise that I will not harm him. The land needs a king. If you agree to assume the throne, then I will let your brother live when I bring him here. I will find another to take his place, for there are sands in my hourglass yet. You will both abide here together, and you will rule justly and fairly. All this will come to pass. I give you my word. Just tell me his name.”
The guards were watching David now, their own weapons unsheathed, ready to strike him down if he tried to hurt the king. But the king raised his hand to let them know that all was well, and they relaxed a little as they waited to see what would unfold.
“If you don’t tell me his name, then I will cross back into your world and I will kill the infant in his bed,” said the Crooked Man. “Even if it is the last thing that I do, I will leave his blood upon the pillows