a Tuesdays at the Castle

J E S S I C A D AY G E O R G E
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a Tuesdays
BLOOMSBURY
Holidays
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Castle
a Tuesdays at the Castle short story
JESSICA DAY GEORGE
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There was only one room in all of Castle Glower whose
coming and going could be predicted, and that was the
holiday feasting hall.
It appeared on the first day of the winter holidays, and
disappeared at dawn on the day after the final feast. The
hall was always beautifully decorated, and every evening
wonderful food would appear along the huge banquet
table. It was traditional during the winter holidays that
servants and masters sit down together for the five feasts,
but Castle Glower went just a little further by making the
food itself so that the servants didn’t have to.
Celie, the youngest of the four children of King Glower
the Seventy-ninth, had always thought that it was vastly
unfair for the servants in other places to have to work all
day preparing for the festivities and cooking the food, with
their only reward being a few minutes respite while they
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ate. Castle Glower apparently thought this was unfair as
well. For not only was the food laid out on the table every
night, but the plates and silver cleaned themselves as
well. And even though most of the rooms that magically
appeared in the Castle every Tuesday were worn and
dusty, the linens in the holiday feasting hall were always
freshly laundered and ironed; the floor was always swept;
the tapestries were free of dust or moth holes; and the
silver, pewter, and crystal was polished and shining.
Celie looked forward to the winter holidays all year
long. She loved the food, and having cousins from far
away visit, the dancing every night until dawn, and the
giving of gifts on the last night. She loved the contests
that the court musicians had to see who could write the
best song, or play the longest or the loudest or the fastest.
The second night of the feasts was the Ladies’ Feast,
where there were special delicacies for all the women and
girls, and the men brought them crowns of winter greenery
for their hair and composed poems for them. That was
Celie’s favorite night. Last year Rolf had written a funny
poem for her that had made everyone laugh, and Pogue
Parry, the blacksmith’s handsome son, had given Celie a
beautiful crown with shining red berries in it that she had
carefully saved on a shelf in her wardrobe.
But this year promised to be the best year in Celie’s
lifetime. Her brother, Bran, had graduated from the
College of Wizardry and with a wizard in attendance, there
were sure to be displays of magic, illusions, and possibly
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even fireworks. Celie barely remembered her grandfather,
the former Royal Wizard, who had died when she was
five, but Rolf and Lilah had often spoken of his fireworks
and his ability with illusions.
“These are going to be the best winter holidays we have
ever had,” Celie told Rolf the day before the first feast.
They were in Rolf’s chambers, attempting to roll a
spyglass in linen wrappings as a surprise for their father.
The spyglass had knobs on each side where it could be
fitted into a tripod, which made the wrapping harder than
Celie had thought. The necklace they had gotten for
their mother, Queen Celina, had come in a small leather
case, which had been terribly convenient. But the glass
master’s apprentice had strolled right into the main hall
with the finished spyglass cradled in his arms, and Rolf
and Celie had nearly tackled him in an effort to hide the
gift before King Glower saw it.
“I’m so excited to see what Bran has planned,” Celie
went on, when Rolf just grunted in reply. He was trying to
hold the edge of the linen in place while Celie tied some
bright blue twine around the bundle.
“Was Bran supposed to plan something?” Rolf’s hand
slipped and he mumbled a word that Celie had once heard
one of the grooms say.
“Yes,” Celie said. “You and Lilah are always telling me
what Grandfather used to do at the feasts. Now it’s Bran’s
turn.”
“Someone should probably tell Bran, then,” Rolf said.
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“You know how he is: head in the clouds. He’s so deep into
his research on the Castle, I doubt if he’s even planning to
attend the feasts.”
Celie nearly dropped the ball of twine in shock. “Not
come to the feasts? But he hasn’t been home for the winter
holidays in years!”
“Because he’s a wizard,” Rolf pointed out. “And
wizards think their own thoughts and practice their own
traditions and do their own wizardy things. You know
that, Cel . . . Cel?”
Rolf finally seemed to notice that Celie was no longer
trying to tie up the spyglass with the twine, but was staring
at him in horror instead.
“But he’ll at least come to the feasts? And sit with
the family?”
It had been so long since Bran had been with the
family that Celie didn’t even remember what it had been
like when he was there. And the idea that he might not
attend the feasts even now that he was living in the Castle
again felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice
water over her head.
“He’s a grown wizard, Cel,” Rolf said patiently. “It’s for
him to decide what he does.”
“Is it? But he’s also still our brother!”
Celie didn’t care that her voice came out so shrill. She
hastily tied off the twine and then ran out of the room.
She thought about going to her father and demanding
that he order Bran to participate in the feasts, or maybe
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to their mother, to plead with him. Then she decided to
face Bran herself.
But finding a wizard when he does not wish to be
found is rather difficult. Celie went to Bran’s rooms, but
they were empty. She went to the throne room, drawing
a questioning look from her father, which she ignored,
but he wasn’t there either. She tried the library and the
Spyglass Tower, where she and Rolf and Lilah had lived
for a few terrible weeks that past summer.
She was so upset that at first she didn’t notice that
the Castle kept steering her past the corridor where the
holiday feasting hall would appear. But on the fifth pass,
she stopped in front of the blank wall and tapped her foot
with impatience.
“What is it?”
The Castle didn’t answer. But when Celie finally gave
up and turned around, the only way out of the corridor
was through the door to her bedchamber, which had
mysteriously appeared. No sooner had she stepped inside
and closed the door behind her, than someone knocked.
She opened it up to find her sister, Lilah; beyond Lilah
the corridor was once again the same as usual, with no
sign of the wall where the holiday feasting hall appeared.
“There you are,” Lilah grumbled. “I’ve been looking
for you for hours!”
Lilah hustled into the room with her arms full of
gowns. “Here are your new gowns for the feasts,” she said,
laying them carefully on Celie’s bed. “The blue one is for
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the First Feast tomorrow night. Then—pay attention!—
the red is for the Ladies’ Feast, the green for the Turning
of the Year, blue with lace is for the Starlight Feast, and
yellow with red for the Final Feast. Please remember:
you’re supposed to match me and Mother.”
Lilah turned to flounce back out of the room.
“Lilah, wait!” Celie grabbed her sister’s sleeve as she
went by.
“What is it? I’m supposed to help Mother get the gifts
ready for Ma’am Housekeeper and Cook,” Lilah said,
tugging her sleeve free. Her eyes were already on the door,
and she was clearly thinking of her next task, and her
next after that.
“Rolf says that Bran may be too wizardly to come to
the feasts,” Celie said in a rush, and then she waited for
Lilah to assure her that Rolf was wrong.
“Oh, Celie,” Lilah said with a sigh, turning back to
her little sister and laying a hand on her arm. “Bran has
his work as the Royal Wizard to think of, and also his
commitment to studying the Castle. He can’t just drop
everything to come to a feast or entertain you with
fireworks.” She patted Celie’s cheek in an irritatingly
maternal way.
“But it’s his first winter holidays back home at the
Castle,” Celie protested.
“Darling,” Lilah said, still doing her best impression
of their mother. “I think you expect too much of the
holidays, every year. You always want everything to be
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perfect, and when it isn’t, you’re so terribly disappointed.
I swear you did this last year, and the year before. Every
gift has to be just so, and the music, and the food. It’s
time for you to put aside whatever dream you have of the
holidays, and just enjoy the way things really are.” And
with those comfortless words, Lilah bustled out the door.
Celie didn’t sleep at all that night, and the next day
passed in a haze. She managed to get the new blue gown
on all right, and sat, numb, while Lilah did her hair, but
she hardly spoke and she couldn’t eat at all. Everyone
seemed to think she was excited over the coming First
Feast, but Celie could hardly remember a time when she
was less excited about the start of the winter holidays.
With her father and mother, Lilah, Rolf, the royal
council, and the rest of the Castle staff, Celie gathered in
front of the bare wall that would soon arch open to reveal
the holiday feasting hall.
At precisely the moment when the sun dipped behind
the western mountains, there was a groaning of stone
and an arch reared up in the wall before them. Beyond it
was the great feasting hall where the residents of Castle
Glower and their chosen guests would spend most of the
next five days. The table was laden with food, and what
seemed to be millions of golden ribbons hung from the
ceiling, each with a round silver pendant bearing the crest
of Castle Glower dangling from its end. The walls were
draped with more gold ribbons and silver pendants, along
with scrolls bearing prayers for a prosperous new year.
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The residents of the Castle rushed inside, exclaiming
over the decorations and the food as they did every year.
King Glower took his place at the head of the great table,
and Queen Celina sat at the foot. There were little cards
at each plate with the guest’s name on them, and everyone
else milled around for a time, trying to find their places.
Celie found herself at her father’s right hand, a place of
unexpected honor, with Rolf across from her. Lilah was just
a little ways down the table with Prince Lulath of Grath,
who had bowed and kissed Celie’s cheek while they were
finding their places in a way that would have normally
delighted her, but now just added to her distractions.
“Papa, where is Bran?” Celie tried to whisper, but the
musicians were already at their places in the gallery and
beginning to tune their instruments, so she had to raise
her voice to ask again. “Isn’t Bran coming?”
“I don’t rightly know, dear,” King Glower said, shaking
out his napkin as if it didn’t much matter. “Did he say he
was coming?”
Rolf gave her an I-told-you-so look, but Celie
ignored him.
“Even the potboys are here, Father,” Celie said,
pointing down the table to them. “Shouldn’t the Royal
Wizard attend?”
“Royal Wizards are vastly different from potboys,”
King Glower replied sagely. “Now, let us do justice to this
magnificent feast!” He raised his voice at this last, and
everyone cheered and began to eat.
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Except for Celie, who could only pick at her food.
“I wish to propose a toast,” a voice boomed throughout
the massive hall, cutting off the musicians.
Celie looked around but couldn’t figure out who had
spoken. To judge from the startled murmurs and craned
necks of the other guests, neither could most of the people
seated around the long table.
But then Celie caught her father’s eye. King Glower
was watching her and smiling. He gave a little nod with
his head toward the small dais below the musicians’
gallery, where guests could stand to recite poetry or sing.
There was nothing there, and Celie looked back at her
father, puzzled. The king just turned in his chair so that he
was facing the dais, so Celie looked again . . .
. . . and saw a goblet floating in the air above the dais.
It was large, and gold, and whatever it contained made
the air above it shimmer.
“A toast, to Princess Cecelia, beloved of Castle
Glower and fearless defender of Sleyne,” the voice
boomed out again. The guests all rose to their feet and
raised their goblets, then the floating goblet tipped and
out poured sparks of gold and scarlet. When they hit the
floor they fizzed and bounced and then began to careen
around the feasting hall, spinning and changing color
before exploding.
The guests cheered and clapped and drank from their
goblets, but Celie could not take her eyes off the dais.
There was a clap of thunder and the holder of the goblet
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suddenly appeared: Bran in his wizardly robes of deep blue,
grinning at her. He swirled his goblet and out of it flew a
pair of tiny blue birds, with a necklace of garnets strung
between their beaks. They flew to Celie and the necklace
dropped about her neck and fastened itself.
“Oh, Bran!” Celie felt her eyes fill with tears.
“Not celebrate the winter holidays with us? Honestly,
Cel!” Rolf laughed and threw a roll toward her. It landed
on Lilah’s plate and made her squawk. Celie couldn’t
think of a retort, but it didn’t matter because another
chair and another place setting had appeared just across
from her, and now Bran was sitting in it, grinning widely.
“The necklace is actually from Mother and Father,” he
told her as she sank down into her seat, one hand on the
jewels around her neck. “The fireworks are from me.”
There was another clap of thunder, and tiny silver stars
rained down on the feasting hall, settling in the guests’
hair and making them all glow. At the same time, a large
dish of chocolate custard, Celie’s favorite sweet, appeared
directly in front of her plate.
“I believe that,” Bran said, indicating the stars and the
custard, “is from the Castle.”
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Think the holidays were
magical at Castle Glower?
Wait until you see what the castle
does every day of the week!
Don’t miss Princess Celie and Castle Glower in…
Now in
paperback!
Coming in
May 2013!
“Castle Glower is the true star of this charming story of
court intrigue and magic. A satisfying mix of Hogwarts
and Howl’s Moving Castle.”—School Library Journal
JessicaDayGeorge.com
Bloomsbury.com