Joy passed several days simply in reading. She had few visitors. The surly maid honored Joy with her presence during every meal and to draw bath water daily. Whatever anyone said about people in medieval villages only bathing twice a year was simply not true. At least, not in this medieval world. The books provided for her amusement were beyond entertainment. Word pictures more easily formed themselves in Joy's mind as she sat in the window seat with the midday sun beaming on her tower and the golden fields and green meadows spread out below. Would it be much of a stretch to imagine hobgoblins creeping out of the forest to wreak mischief on the townsfolk at night? Was it far fetched to see fairies instead of fireflies lighting up the evening mists over the river or catch the silver gleam of a unicorn's flanks as it dashed in and out of trees? Nothing in this world seemed impossible yet... except the idea of escape.
Every time Joy imagined it, she could not figure out a way of escaping her captor. Even if she gained full access to the castle, she would have to know it so intimately that she'd find some secret passage or gateway out that the prince himself did not know. And that seemed impossible. Her imagination always got as far as the end of the dark passage or the gateway below the arch when someone, usually Eric, stepped out of the shadows and bid her return to her cage. And Eric always wore the most blighted expression, as if she had stabbed him behind his back. It was most frustrating.
Joy sighed as she looked up from the last words of a familiar tale. At least being stuck in one place so long with so much time on her hands drew out her creative side. It hadn't had much time to develop itself lately, but after many hours of thoughts, imaginings, and wanderings in and out of tales, it was ready to launch itself into productivity. If from nothing else, out of sheer restlessness. The rooms came to her in a flood, little details piecing themselves out as she imagined each part. Joy still loved dreaming up houses.
This time it was a house of books. Not just filled with books, but containing as much of a book's essence as a house could. And not just one book, but every beloved friend Joy had ever launched herself into, heart and mind. Taking a piece of paper and pen and dipping the pen in some ink, Joy held the utensil over the blank page. A few swift strokes and she had a bare room. Then she envisioned a land inside a wardrobe in a spare room. The walls crept with ivy and tree branches, studded with pink blossoms. A lamppost stood in the center of the room surrounded by moss like carpet. A circular bed was hidden behind a large red canopy, like a great tent. Dark heavy wood side tables and an ornately carved wardrobe made up the furniture. A great lion head sword and shield, a bow and arrow, and a dagger adorned the walls. A gilded mirror hung over the dresser and garlands of spring flowers cascaded over the furniture. The adjoining bath was the opposite theme. White walls were complimented by pale blue and silver ornaments. Everything spoke of winter frost. The next bedroom had a wooden four poster bed with ancient heavy looking red drapes that trailed the floor and the window curtains matched. A broomstick stood in the corner and a sword and an old patched hat lay on top of the bureau. The walls were decorated with famous medieval unicorn, dragon, and lion figures in rich colours. A window seat looked out over a large garden. The furniture in this room was less ornate than the last, but no less aged. A cage with a beautiful live snowy owl stood in the corner and a chest with a few tattered books and quill pens was at the foot of the bed. A picture of three friends was propped up on the bed stand and a shimmery cloak hung from the coat rack. Other ornaments populated the room as if the hero of this story lived there himself. Joy supposed the only way she could feel she was in any of these beloved books was to create a room from each and fill many delightful hours looking for treasure in basements and garages and musty alleyway shops to complete the illusions.
By the third day of avid drawing, Joy had a mansion of these rooms. Each one spoke to her, "create me and then let people come!" This was a secret desire of Joy's, that she could one day do just this and open it as a guest house for anyone who wished to stay and dream for a while. It would be her home and many hours of happy imaginings that she might help pass on to others. But after a while, Joy had to admit these were just dreams and would remain such if she never left her tower. Eric had graced her with his presence only once, claiming he was busy with mutinous villagers. Apparently they were still upset over the boat incident. And apparently it was still not safe for her to wander out and about, but would she care for him to escort her to the library?
"Yes please" Joy said as she gave a small curtsey. She supposed any small agreeable action might help Eric believe she was happy and content, so that when the opportunity to get out actually came, he would suspect nothing. Wasn't that how the most cunning heroines escaped? Or had knights rushed in, breaking down the doors and slaying all opponents? Joy shuddered to think of the many people who would have to die in order for a knight to reach her tall tower in the middle of the castle. Or perhaps he could creep in by night after gaining access to an old map of all the secret passageways of the castle. Stealthy as a panther, he'd glide past doors and hallways, rooms and guards, winging his way up to her tall tower and together they'd escape the way he'd come, with breathless moments of hiding in gloom and her hand in his. Like Madeleine and Porphyro, even the dogs would not stir in their slumber as the pair ran out into freedom and the night.
These musings were interrupted as Joy realized she should be taking in her surroundings and learning every nook and cranny of the passageways she was led down. Eric stepped quickly in front of her, leading the way, and there was no time for dawdling or stopping to examine anything. Her sight must be quick and keen. Attempting to be discreet, Joy side-glanced down halls and counted the number they passed until they reached a corridor open to the air at the ground level. They were crossing part of the courtyard below the tower keep over to a lower, but much larger building.
"This is the main castle," Eric told her as they walked up a flight of steps to two massive doors. One stood ajar and a servant bustled out with a basket loaded with garments as Eric and Joy stepped up. " I live in this part, as well as some of the servants and friends of mine who are visiting. Unfortunately, I have no family left, so as you must sometimes feel, I also am alone. Hopefully that shall pass soon though," and he smiled at her as if sharing knowledge of her thoughts. This greatly irked Joy but she chose to ignore it for the moment.
The main hall on the other side of the door led straight down the length of the building to the other end. A chapel height ceiling spanned the width of the hall at least four stories high. At the end of the hall were two more massive, ornate wooden doors with brass bolts and detailing. Eric took the ring and pulled the heavy door open, revealing a sight so magnificent that all Joy could do was stand in the doorway, open mouthed, with hands clasped. The library was a round chapel room, five stories high, with small alcoves forming a cross from the spoke. Each story had its own walkway and there was not an inch of wall not covered in books. The shelves were built in, with ladders placed in various points for access. Joy had thought the library at Niblick House very grand until this moment. But here was something that nothing in her experience could ever compare with. Eric laughed at her expression, but as with Mr. Shanks, it did not break the hold on Joy's expression. Eric led her forward by the hand, drew her around to face him (for he would not have gotten her attention any other way), and still smiling, said one word,
"Go!"
Joy laughed back at him for the first time and turned away from him. She went straight to the nearest ladder and began to climb. Sunlight streamed down in rifts from the skylights in the magnificent arched ceiling, casting shadows on some bookshelves and illuminating dust and sleek leather book covers on others. Eric watched Joy's ascent with smug appreciation as her hair caught the light and glistened. He knew her excitement over this place could only be rivaled by his own. The library was his private and most beloved delight. His vast knowledge and love of literature and learning had only helped him increase the mass amount of books already kept in this place. His father and his father before him had ever sought the most valuable books for its shelves so that now it was a treasure trove of innumerable knowledge and incalculable wealth. Most of the volumes were no longer in print and some not even from this world. They held secrets ancient and long lost, beauty to be rediscovered, and great stories and names that had long since died from memories and lips. Worlds of imaginings contained in one vast room and now at Joy's very fingertips.
An hour later found Eric bent over a manuscript himself and Joy curled in a snug window seat between two shelves in the wall. She also had a very ancient book in her lap and was avidly gazing at a particular picture in it. Something in the face of the man on the page made her stare instead of turning the page. It was a familiar face, and yet it looked not fully human. The picture was beautifully illuminated, but the face was left glistening white and cold. The eyes were full of fire and the dark hair fell like night unfolded over broad shoulders. The man stood looking out over a vast plain of grass. On the other side, where the man's gaze was directed, was a thick forest of trees, like a wall before him. The longer Joy looked at the picture, the more lifelike it became until Joy imagined the flame in the man's eyes leaping out and catching fire to the edge of that forest. It was as if he was attempting to burn a hole into it, a way inside that was closed to him. And yet, not one step toward it did he intend to move. The way was closed to him.
"Find anything unusual?" a voice said at Joy's ear, making her leap out of her seat. She almost lost the book in her lap, but Eric's hand shot out to catch it.
"Sorry, I seem to be good at startling you."
"That you do! And no, I was just looking at...p..pictures..." Joy's words stuck in her throat as she looked at Eric again.
He gave her a questioning grin when she stumbled on her words and looked down at the book she had been reading. There was no title on the cover.
"I'm not sure I've ever read this book," he said, examining the inside cover as Joy continued to gaze at him. "Perhaps it is one my father or grandfather collected. As you can see, I have more volumes like this than I can keep track of. But they are often very beautiful and very old."
"Yes. How old do you think that one is?" Joy asked, finding her voice at last.
"Hmm..." Eric flipped through the first few pages, "It's hand illuminated and the pages are not pressed paper, but something more natural and ancient. Something more animalistic, but so finely cured, I cannot say what. And it's still very well bound. Whoever made it was skilled, to say the least. It could be one thousand or ten thousand years old for all I know. I don't even know if it's from this place."
Joy was about to ask what he meant by "this place", but something held her back. She found she actually did not want to know. The further she knew herself from home and things familiar, the harder it would seem to get back. Loch Ness may have broadened her limited ideas of time and space, but it was all too easy to lose hope.
Eric flipped through a few more pages and a frown creased his brow.
"On second thought, I think this book may be too valuable to keep in here. Mind if I take it off your hands and study it for a bit myself?" he asked, his expression lightening again, the brief frown passed over.
"It's your book," Joy replied.
The picture she had seen had only whetted her appetite for further study, but she had no claim on the book. Eric's reaction to it greatly aroused her curiosity. She knew that book held something very important or why would he not leave it here amongst his numerous other priceless antiquities? Joy determined to one day have a thorough study of it, even if she had to steal it from under Eric's pillow. The idea of actually pulling this accomplishment of thievery off actually made her smile and want to giggle, but she held it back as Eric was now looking at her questioningly, as if trying to divine her thoughts. Joy was fully determined he never would, so she turned and picked up the stack of books she had selected to take back with her.
"Let me take those," Eric offered quickly, taking the burden from her arms. They were ridiculously heavy. "I think...or am fairly certain, that it is safe enough for you to be able to go freely between your room and this library, if you like," he offered as they left the library. "Fifel, my librarian, will be happy to take the books back for you if you are just as greedy everytime you visit," he chuckled.
"I was not certain if I'd be able to return or when, since I have no freedom of my own," Joy retorted, rather more harshly than she meant.
Eric's stopped dead and shifted the books under his arm, freeing his hand to grab hers.
"Don't," he said, "Do you have any idea how much I wish your freedom?"
"No, I can't say that I do," Joy replied.
He sighed, "I wish I could explain things better to you. I know you don't believe me when I tell you it really isn't safe. But you must remember you are a stranger here and a stranger to our ways. The people are entirely superstitious and suspicious. They do not trust those they do not know. If it helps, I have placed a warrant for arrest and a reward for bringing in the party guilty of that unfortunate maid's death. I am still not sure if it was even caused by man," Eric shifted his eyes to the floor, then back to her, "but hopefully he will be caught. Once we have someone to take responsibility for this crime, it will be obvious it was unrelated to you and you can be as free as you choose".
Joy did not want them to, but his words crept into her mind and formed sense and comfort there. Only his eyes continued to make her feel uncomfortable. They were more familiar than she liked.
She smiled a little, "I do not mean to be ungrateful".
"I am sure you don't. Anymore than I mean to hold you captive," Eric said, leading up the stairs to the tower.
"Ha! But you do so mean to hold me captive!" Joy thought, "And I will not be grateful for it."
