Papa threw his head back and laughed. “Well, he certainly knows talent when he hears it,” he said, winking. His eyes settled on me. Everything in me brightened at the approval in them. “Isn’t that right, Nannerl? The emperor said you were truly blessed by God.”
Even better than our royal gifts were the frequent mentions of our names on the streets, scattered in conversations, all murmuring about Herr Mozart and his remarkable children. We heard it from every corner as we prepared for our trip home. The gossip kept Papa in high spirits all the way back, despite the snow we encountered.
By the time we arrived home, invitations had poured in. News of our performance in Vienna had already spread throughout Salzburg and beyond. All the nobility of Austria and Germany wanted to keep up with the latest trend, and we were it.
Papa made the arrangements with a resolute face.
“You will exhaust the children,” Mama said to him one evening as she looked over the schedule he had laid out for us.
“The children will not be worth watching forever,” he said. “This is only the beginning, Anna. There is no time to waste. We need to play for the royal courts, for all Europe.” He turned then to look at me and Woferl. “You love the performances, at any rate. Isn’t that true?”
I nodded, because it was true. Beside me, my brother clapped his hands at the thought of traveling beyond Austria’s borders.
My father smiled at Woferl’s reaction. “Miracles from God,” he said. “And so long as they can, it is their duty to perform God’s work.”
Woferl brightened like a star, drinking in Papa’s words hungrily. Miracles from God. I took the words and folded them away carefully, letting the weight of them sit in my chest, savoring the memory of my father’s pleased expression turned in my direction.
This was my worth. Without it, I was simply a child. With it, I would be what Hyacinth promised.
Immortal.
* * *
Several weeks passed. I started to think that perhaps Hyacinth wouldn’t return after all—that there was no task in store to repay him for his help. A part of me was relieved. Another part of me missed him, yearned for the wild song of his voice.
Finally, my wait ended on a cold night in late April. A flurry of snow blanketed our windowsills. Woferl slept soundly beside me, but the cold kept me awake. I rubbed at my toes to warm them, letting my eyes wander around our room before settling on the slit beneath our door. Every night, I half expected to see the light of fireflies again, like we’d seen that night when Hyacinth had first appeared.
“I wonder if it feels like winter in the Kingdom of Back too,” Woferl murmured. I looked down at him, surprised to see him awake. He blinked sleep from his eyes and snuggled closer to me.
“I’m sure it does,” I whispered. “Now, hush.” The late hour and the chilly air had turned me grumpy.
Woferl didn’t seem to care. He sighed and folded his arms over our blanket, then turned his eyes up to the ceiling. “I bet winter in the Kingdom of Back is different from winter in our world, isn’t it?” he said. “I bet it doesn’t feel as cold, and the snow looks prettier.”
“Woferl, please.” I frowned at him. “Do you want Papa to scold you tomorrow for practicing poorly? Go back to sleep.”
“You’re not sleeping.” Woferl grinned. “You always get to make up the stories about the kingdom. This time I’ll make it up, and you can listen.”
I sighed. There would be no quieting him. “Very well, indulge me. Tell me something we don’t know yet about the Kingdom of Back.”
Woferl cleared his throat, then furrowed his brow in concentration. I watched him without saying a word. It was the same expression he made when he performed for an audience. I wondered suddenly if he saw the kingdom as I did, as sheets of music in his mind, an entire world laid out in neat measures and round notes on paper. I wondered if he heard what I heard whenever he played, if we had access to the same secret world.
“In the Kingdom of Back,” he began, “the snow layers the forest in white, like frosting on the cakes at the bakery. And the ocean never freezes over. Its water feels warm even in the winter.”
“Yes,” I whispered, listening half-heartedly. His childlike voice had started to lure me into sleep. “Naturally.”
“And the ocean has a guardian too, just like the rest of the kingdom has the princeling.” Woferl paused to think. “A faery queen of the night, trapped in an underwater cave.”
As he went on, I drifted away. The room around me blurred, I sank without protest into the early fog of sleep, and in my dreams Woferl continued with his faery tale. I thought I could see light at the bottom slit of our door, and hear something that sounded like music from a clavier. My music. “Woferl,” I whispered, shaking my brother.
He halted in his story. “What is it?” he asked.
Before I could reply, I saw him sit up and turn his attention toward our door. He heard it too. “It’s coming from the music room,” he whispered. His hand automatically found mine.
“It’s my music,” I said, suddenly afraid. “From my notebook. You recognize it, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.” Woferl swung his legs over the bed and tilted his head so as to hear it more clearly.
We stayed like that for a long moment, silent, as the music continued. I shivered.
“It’s coming closer,” Woferl whispered.
My hands went to the candlestick on our dresser. I lit it, then held the light out before us.
The door squeaked, then opened into a tiny sliver. Both of us froze in our places and my face grew hot with fear. I knew it was not our parents, and not Sebastian.
It was Hyacinth.
The princeling came accompanied, as always, by the dim blue glow of faeries flitting about him in tiny pins of light. He peered into our bedroom and looked idly around before settling his gaze on us. On me.
“Nannerl,” he said. His voice wrapped itself around me in an embrace. “I am so pleased to see you again.” And before I could wonder if he’d made himself visible to Woferl too, he turned to my brother and offered him a smile. “The little one is still awake, waiting for an adventure.”
Woferl grinned back, delighted. “It’s you!” he exclaimed.
“Yes, it seems so,” Hyacinth said.
“Have you come to steal something again?” Woferl asked.
I swallowed at his words, afraid of angering the princeling, and elbowed him in the ribs.
Hyacinth only laughed. The sound pierced my ears. I thought that it would certainly wake Sebastian or our parents. When he stopped, he fixed his eyes on Woferl. “I’ve come to ask a favor from both of you,” he said. “But first, you must follow me. Quickly now.” He frowned at the candle in my hands. I noticed the way he shrank from its warmth, as if, even from a distance, it could scald him. “Leave that. You will not need its light in the kingdom.” And without another word, he vanished from the doorframe.