Carlos Zafon - The Prince Of Mist

‘I suppose I passed out, because I don’t remember much about the following hours. When I regained consciousness, my head throbbing, Fleischmann and I were lying on an old wooden bench. Day was breaking and the caravans from the fair had disappeared, as if all the lights, noise and crowds of the night had been an illusion conjured by our alcohol-soaked brains. We stood up and gazed at the deserted plot of land around us. I asked my friend whether he remembered anything about the previous night. Fleischmann told me he’d dreamed that he’d gone into a magician’s den and when he’d been asked what his greatest wish was, he’d replied that he wanted to be loved by Eva Gray. Then he laughed, joking about our monumental hangover, convinced that nothing he’d told me had actually happened.

‘Two months later, Eva Gray and Richard Fleischmann were married. They didn’t even invite me to the wedding. I wouldn’t see them again for over twenty years.’

*

‘One wet winter’s day, a man wearing a raincoat followed me from the office to my home. From the dining-room window I could see that the stranger was watching my house. I hesitated for a few moments and then went outside, ready to unmask the mysterious spy. It was Richard Fleischmann, trembling with cold, his face wrinkled with age and a haunted look in his eyes. My old friend looked as if he hadn’t slept in months. I made him come in and offered him a cup of hot coffee. Without daring to look me in the eye he asked about that night long ago, in Dr Cain’s lair.

‘I was in no mood for pleasantries. I asked him what Cain had demanded in exchange for making his wish come true. Fleischmann, his face distorted by fear and shame, sank to his knees in front of me, crying and begging for my help. I ignored his tears, insisting on an answer to my question. What had he promised Dr Cain in exchange for his services?

‘“My firstborn son,” he replied. “I promised him my son…”’

*

‘Fleischmann confessed to me that for years, and without her knowledge, he’d been administering a drug to his wife that prevented her from conceiving a child. But eventually Eva Fleischmann had plunged into a deep depression and the absence of the child she so desired had turned their marriage into a living hell. Fleischmann was afraid that if Eva didn’t conceive she would soon lose her mind, or that, with so much sadness, her life would slowly be extinguished, like a candle going out through lack of oxygen. He told me there was no one else he could turn to and he begged my forgiveness then asked for my help. In the end I said I would help him, not for his sake but out of the affection I still felt for Eva Gray and in memory of our old friendship.

‘That very night I threw Fleischmann out of my house, but my plan was very different to what the man I had once considered my friend imagined. I followed him through the rain, tracking him across the city. I asked myself why I was doing it. But the very thought that Eva Gray, who had rejected me when we were both so young, might have to hand over her son to that vile sorcerer, made my stomach turn and was sufficient reason for me to confront Dr Cain once more, even though I was increasingly aware that I might not escape unharmed.

‘Fleischmann’s wanderings led me to the new lair of my former acquaintance, the Prince of Mist. His new home was a travelling circus, and to my surprise Dr Cain had given up his role as fortune-teller and clairvoyant in favour of a persona more in keeping with his sense of humour. He was dressed as a clown, his face painted white and red, although his constantly changing eyes gave away his identity even beneath dozens of layers of make-up. Cain’s circus flew a flag decorated with the six-pointed star at the top of a tall mast and the magician had surrounded himself with a group of sinister companions who used the cover of being circus performers to disguise something else much darker. For two weeks I spied on Cain’s circus and soon discovered that its threadbare, yellowing big top concealed a gang of tricksters, criminals and thieves who robbed and stole wherever they went. I also discovered that Dr Cain’s lack of care in choosing his slaves had resulted in a trail of crimes, disappearances and thefts which had not gone unnoticed by the local police, who could smell the stench of corruption emanating from the ghoulish troupe.

‘Naturally, Cain was aware of the situation, so he decided that he and his friends must vanish from the country as quickly as possible, but in a discreet way, preferably avoiding the police and their irritating procedures. That is how, taking advantage of a gambling debt that had been handed to him at a convenient moment – thanks to the stupidity of the Dutch captain – Dr Cain was able to board the Orpheus that night. And I alongside him.

‘What happened on the night of the storm is something that even I cannot explain. Fierce winds dragged the Orpheus towards the coast and flung her against the rocks, opening a gash in the hull that caused her to sink in a matter of minutes. I was hiding in one of the lifeboats, which broke loose when the ship ran aground and was then hurled by the breakers onto the beach. That is the only reason I survived. Cain and his henchmen were travelling in the bilge, hidden under crates in case of an inspection halfway through the journey. I suppose that when the icy water flooded the bowels of the ship, they didn’t even realise what was happening…’

*

‘And the bodies were never found.’ Max was stunned.

Victor Kray shook his head.

‘Often, when storms are violent, the sea carries the bodies away,’ said the lighthouse keeper.

‘But it usually returns them, even if it’s many days later,’ Max replied. ‘I’ve read that.’

‘Don’t believe everything you read,’ said the old man, ‘although in this case it could be true.’

‘Then what happened?’ asked Alicia.

‘For years I’ve had a theory even I didn’t quite believe it. But now everything seems to confirm it.’

*

‘I was the sole survivor of the shipwreck. Yet when I recovered consciousness in hospital I realised that something strange had occurred. I decided to build this lighthouse and stay here, but you already know that part of the story. I was sure that the night of the storm didn’t spell the end of Dr Cain; it was only a pause in time. That’s why I’ve remained here all these years. When Roland’s parents died some time later, I took him in, and he, in exchange, has been my only company during my exile.

‘But that isn’t all. A few years later I made another fatal mistake. I tried to get in touch with Eva Gray. I suppose I wanted to know if everything I’d gone through had been worth it. Fleischmann got in first – he discovered my whereabouts and paid me a visit. I told him what had happened, and my words seemed to free him of all the ghosts that had tormented him for years. He decided to build the house by the beach and, soon after, little Jacob was born. Those were the best years of Eva’s life. Until the death of the boy.

‘The day Jacob Fleischmann drowned I knew that the Prince of Mist had never left. He had remained in the shadows, waiting patiently for something powerful to return him to the world of the living. And nothing is as powerful as a promise…’

When the old lighthouse keeper finished his story, Max looked at his watch: it was a few minutes to five. Outside, light rain had started to fall across the bay and the wind from the sea banged insistently against the shutters.

‘There’s a storm brewing,’ said Roland, scanning the leaden horizon.

‘Max, we should get back home. Dad is going to call us soon,’ Alicia added.

Max agreed, reluctantly. He needed to consider everything the old man had told them, to try to fit the pieces of the jigsaw together. The effort of remembering his tale seemed to have plunged Victor Kray into a listless silence, and he stared blankly ahead from his armchair.