The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making - Catherynne M. Valente [93]
“Yes,” said September slowly.
“That is what it means to be Ravished. When the sand runs out you must go home, just like poor Mallow. But when Spring comes again, so will you, and the hourglass will turn over again. It will all begin anew. You are bound to us now, but you will never live fully here, nor fully there. Ravished means you cannot stay, and you cannot go. You ate heartily in Fairyland, and I am so terribly glad you did, even though it was certainly naughty of me to have tricked you so. But I do think I warned you not to eat, so you cannot bring suit against me.”
September laughed. “You did warn me.” She thought of her mother, of leaving her every Spring. But, then, hadn’t the Marquess said that when you go home, it’s just as though you never left? Maybe her mother would not miss her. Maybe it would be like dreaming.
A-Through-L tucked his huge head against September’s little neck, nuzzling her.
“When spring comes, I shall meet you at the Municipal Library, and you will see how much I’ve learned! You’ll be so proud of me and love me so!”
“Oh, Ell, but I do love you! Right now!”
“One can always bear more love,” the Wyverary purred.
Suddenly, September thought of something that had, excusably, escaped her until this moment.
“Green! If the old laws are all broken, then Ell’s wings needn’t be chained down anymore!”
“Certainly not!”
September ran to the great bronze chains--they were still bound with a great padlock, and no amount of rattling budged them.
“Oh, if only I knew how to pick a lock!” sighed September. “I’ve turned out to be no kind of thief at all!”
You and I may imagine this simple plea floating up and out of the golden field and up into the sky, winding and wending toward our stalwart friend, the Jeweled Key which had sought September through all of her adventures. We cannot fully understand the joy that exploded in the heart of the Key as it heard September’s cry, and how fast it flew, knowing she needed it, knowing its girl cried out for it.
Winking down out of the sun, the Key fell like a firefly. It flashed and sparkled, a glittering dart, and came to rest just where September longed for it to be--nestled in the lock of the Wyverary’s chains. It glittered with the shock of arriving just when it was called for, the pleasure and surprise of it. With a click, the Key turned. Peace and contentment flooded through its tiny body. The padlock fell away; the chains slid to the earth. A-Through-L, for the first time since he was a tiny lizard at his mother’s side, spread his wings.
The great scarlet things cast them all in shade, and kicked up warm winds as he flapped them once, twice, and lifted uncertainly into the air. Ell choked, tears welling in his eyes.
“Did you know I could fly, September? I can! I can!” The Wyverary soared up, whooping, spitting joyful fire into the clouds.
“Oh, I did know, Ell,” September whispered as her friend looped and did somersaults in the sky. “I did.”
September looked down at the Key, finally. Her Key, with which she had unlocked the puzzle of the world. It basked in her gaze.
“Have you followed me all this way?” she gasped.
It spun around, terribly pleased.
“Oh, Key, how extraordinary!”
The Key thought it might die of the sound of her voice. September gathered it up in her hand, and it felt it must die all over again, for the touch of her fingers.
“Will you do something for me?”
It would do anything, of course it would.
“Go and unlock the others. All over Fairyland, everyone chained and unable to fly freely. When you’re done, it will be spring and time for me to come back, and then we shall not be parted again, and you shall ride on my lapel, and we will share jokes in the moonlight, and look very fine on parade.”
It bowed a little to her, not a little puffed up. Then, the Key rose up and flew away out of site, twinkling like a tiny