«Well, here we are,» Chloe sighed in relief and adjusted the cream ruffles on her skirt. A bone fan appeared from somewhere in her hand. She shook off a few pesky butterflies from it and began to wave it around herself. She was obviously tired of diverting a flying spirit from her carriage.
Rhianon leaned on Fresias arm to get out of the carriage. As soon as she was on solid ground, she began to look around for Orpheus. He was standing just behind them, two or three meters away. His reddish strands contrasted sharply with the brown alder trunk he was leaning against. He looked at his mistress with a challenge, almost a reproach.
«You had no right to leave me, much less trade me for this unseemly company,» his eyes spoke without words. Now with ineffable anger, they too were like two jewels.
«Come,» Fresia pulled her forward, but Rhianon still could not take her eyes off Orpheus. She had never seen him so angry before. He was still standing there by the tree. Long strands of hair were hanging down over his face, and he wouldnt even raise his hand to fix them. It was unusual for him to do nothing. Hed been so vigorous before, but now it was as if hed lost all his strength at once. Without his companion, it was as if he had lost himself. There seemed to be more life in those red locks than in his colorless face. They would have burned his cheek like a living flame.
Rhianon turned around several times to check again to see if he was following them, but he stood motionless.
«Of course hes not invited, so he cant follow us,» Fresia said in answer to her unspoken question.
«Is that so? Rhianon turned once more. Her argument seemed quite logical. Orpheus could not violate unwritten etiquette and follow the ladies where no one called him. It happened to him for the first time. Earlier he was not afraid to break any prohibitions, and he had no respect for anybody, but today it was different. Orpheus did not dare to move, as if he were chained.
Chloe, who was adjusting her train showed him her tongue. Rhiannon shuddered involuntarily. Here was more proof that these were not just prim court ladies. None of them would allow themselves such a thing.
Guests were already gathering at the front door. The crowd, surrounded by soaring high-poverty lights, looked festive. Rhianon began to look closely at the lushly dressed figures. Fresia was insistently dragging her forward up the wide marble staircase, but Rianon did manage to get a glimpse of some of them. Under a dome of stars and obscure lights flying in the sky, everything might have seemed phantasmagoric, but some of the guests were truly astounding. Rhianon even parted her lips in amazement. Even at Athénaïs table she had never seen anything like this before. Wasnt it all a dream, a question she had asked herself more than once?
«No, it is not a dream. Could it all be a dream? Youd better remember heaven»
She turned around and began to look frantically at the masked faces. Who could have said it? The voice sounded not here, but somewhere far away and at the same time right in her mind. It spoke of heaven.
«Whats the matter with you?»
Fresia saw Rhianon gasp frantically for air and press her hand against her corset, in the very place where a persons heart should be beating. But do fairies have one? Rhianon was afraid of giving herself away. It seemed to her that a moth was imprisoned in her chest instead of her heart, beating its wings frantically against the wall of her chest. Her head felt foggy. There was someone beside her, someone, but not Fresia. Someone was standing so close that she could feel his presence, but she couldnt see him.
«It is all right,» she tried to hide the fact that her dizziness and beating heart plagued her. Whether Fresia believed her or she was too perceptive for that. At any rate, they moved on smoothly. Rhianon stopped only once, feeling something press her sliding train to the floor behind her. She turned around and noticed the culprit. Someone in a harlequin costume was squatting and dislodging a piece of material that clung to the bobbin on his shoe. Or maybe he had stepped on it on purpose and was now pretending to be concerned in order to delay her even more. He suddenly looked up at her and one long, long look told her a lot. Whoever this visitor under the mask was, he knew her. Black as agates, his eyes almost grinned. Rhianon waited impatiently for him to release her, but even then, though she walked without turning around, she could still feel his gaze behind her. He seemed to follow her. She clutched tightly at Fresias arm, as if that could keep her from anything. In any case, she wanted whoever walked behind her to see that she was not alone here, but with her companions.
«You should have been here on the autumnal equinox, or even earlier on the winter solstice. Were so late,» Fresia lamented on the way. «This masquerade should have been arranged a long time ago.»
«But then you wouldnt have had time to invite me,» Rhianon didnt know why she reminded her of that, probably because she always wanted to console those who complained loudly in front of her.
«Yes, it wouldnt have been the same without you,» Fresia said, and she couldnt quite make out whether she was joking or serious, but her arm was suddenly about Rhianons waist. It seemed no longer an arm, but a snake or a rope, wrapped tightly around her waist. Rhianon could still feel the coolness of the mountain stream, but being in such close proximity with someone was suddenly not very pleasant.
«Are we here all night?» Rhianon watched the chandeliers above the ballroom light up one by one. Maybe she thought she saw bats hiding among the pendants.
«Nightfall would not begin until after the master had greeted us all,» Fresia grinned, not in a very amiable way. Rhianon shuddered at the grin. She could sense at once when others were up to something. What could Fresia be up to? Chloe was just teasing some of the guests at this moment, telling them that their masks were no good. It was inconsiderate to impose so much on the quarrel, but Rhianon herself didnt like their costumes and half-masks the color of flame either. They looked as if they were made of living flames, and if you came near them they would scorch you. Rhianon turned away quickly. The mere sight of red disturbed her. Lush greens, or gentle whites, were another matter. Those seemed to prevail here. Only once did a lady in a tight golden outfit and the same mask slip past them. Salamander, Rhianon called her to herself. The woman seemed to notice her, too, and touched her lightly as she passed. And it was no longer clear whether it was a woman or some extraordinary animal that really looked like a huge salamander. Rhianon suppressed the urge to turn around and stare after her. Instead she scrutinized the others in front of her. No one wore a mask. Many even wore fancy headdresses. Rhianon saw hats with veils and veil, peacock-feather headdresses, and whole flower pyramids in place of the tiaras. More than once she wondered if the sprouts of outlandish little flowers really did sprout from under the transparent skin of the ladies, or if it was just an illusion. Only she dared not ask Fresia that question. She might just laugh in response. For she knew all she knew for certain. But Rhianon could only guess at what guests in non-human societies might be like. But if Freesia was to be believed, the owner of this house was human. She spotted him in the center of the hall, just as he was greeting guests. He and his wife and children were unmasked. Though a small group of guests in well-made masquerade costume stood beside them, Rhianon knew at once that they were only human. People like the master of the house and his family, who had been called here on this particular night by accident or on purpose. For some reason Rhianon felt pity for them, and she didnt even know why. Of course, it could be explained by the fact that in their usual costumes, sewn by mere mortal tailors, they looked too shabby in comparison to the gathering of unearthly guests. Rhianon looked questioningly at Fresia.
«Are we here all night?» Rhianon watched the chandeliers above the ballroom light up one by one. Maybe she thought she saw bats hiding among the pendants.
«Nightfall would not begin until after the master had greeted us all,» Fresia grinned, not in a very amiable way. Rhianon shuddered at the grin. She could sense at once when others were up to something. What could Fresia be up to? Chloe was just teasing some of the guests at this moment, telling them that their masks were no good. It was inconsiderate to impose so much on the quarrel, but Rhianon herself didnt like their costumes and half-masks the color of flame either. They looked as if they were made of living flames, and if you came near them they would scorch you. Rhianon turned away quickly. The mere sight of red disturbed her. Lush greens, or gentle whites, were another matter. Those seemed to prevail here. Only once did a lady in a tight golden outfit and the same mask slip past them. Salamander, Rhianon called her to herself. The woman seemed to notice her, too, and touched her lightly as she passed. And it was no longer clear whether it was a woman or some extraordinary animal that really looked like a huge salamander. Rhianon suppressed the urge to turn around and stare after her. Instead she scrutinized the others in front of her. No one wore a mask. Many even wore fancy headdresses. Rhianon saw hats with veils and veil, peacock-feather headdresses, and whole flower pyramids in place of the tiaras. More than once she wondered if the sprouts of outlandish little flowers really did sprout from under the transparent skin of the ladies, or if it was just an illusion. Only she dared not ask Fresia that question. She might just laugh in response. For she knew all she knew for certain. But Rhianon could only guess at what guests in non-human societies might be like. But if Freesia was to be believed, the owner of this house was human. She spotted him in the center of the hall, just as he was greeting guests. He and his wife and children were unmasked. Though a small group of guests in well-made masquerade costume stood beside them, Rhianon knew at once that they were only human. People like the master of the house and his family, who had been called here on this particular night by accident or on purpose. For some reason Rhianon felt pity for them, and she didnt even know why. Of course, it could be explained by the fact that in their usual costumes, sewn by mere mortal tailors, they looked too shabby in comparison to the gathering of unearthly guests. Rhianon looked questioningly at Fresia.
«What would happen next?»
The fairy squeezed her hand tightly.
«Dont ask questions. You do not want them to know that you were not privy to their plans, do you?»
Rhianon shuddered. What does that mean? Isnt she being mistaken for one of their own here? Or does it stand out all too well that she is human? But after all, the dress she is wearing and the jewels in her hair are fairy creation. Hasnt Fresia tried to make Rhianon look like them and even better than them. Did she not bring her here as a last-minute treat. At the end of the masquerade, when it is time to remove the masks, Fresia will announce to everyone that her companion is only human.
Rhianon looked once more at Chloe. She was already flirting animatedly with some strangers and expressing her excitement at someones particularly well-done masks. Both her condemnation and unconcealed admiration seemed to be expressed directly, like a childs. She could not bring herself to pretend or lie. It wasnt inherent in humans, but she wasnt human. And she didnt see Rhianon as a victim at all. Although on the other hand, maybe she was used to her friend picking up here and there her companions for the night to get rid of them in the morning. And Chloe herself was simply indifferent to these temporary companions. She probably lost count of them.
«Where have I got to,» Rhianon wondered if it would be possible to find ways to retreat, but ahead of her in the middle of it already seemed to begin to unfold the drama. No one was paying any attention to Rhianon herself yet. The guests, however, were encircling the host in a tight ring, and that ring was narrowing. How many of them were there, all dressed in fabulous costumes? Rhianon tried to count them, and felt dizzy. The counting seemed to only make more of them.
Could someone from the School of Witchcraft be here? A hunch struck her suddenly, and Rhianon began to look around. A couple in black caught her eye. The lady and the gentleman were conspiringly dressed in dark colors, and they stood out sharply in the crowd. They looked strange amidst the riot of color, but elegant all the same. White lace was gracefully woven into black velvet and silk. It looked like an ornament, and there seemed to be some symbols lost in its weaving. Not just a pattern Rhianon squinted to get a better look. The two were standing too far away from her, but a cavalier in exactly the same black camisole could also be seen beside her. They were black velvet and white lace. It was like a uniform. Had Orpheus told her that the School of Witchcraft had its own uniform? Rhianon strained her memory, but remembered nothing of the sort. Orpheus generally tried not to talk particularly much about the School of Black Arts. He did not talk about the other students in it at all. Rhianon looked once more at the stranger, and she thought that even under the black mask she recognized the same condemned man who had left her a star. It was only an illusion, of course. The blond hair, scattered across the dark collar, seemed so familiar, but the face beneath the mask was as if it didnt exist at all.
Just for a moment she was embarrassed. She didnt like how long and attentive his gaze was. He continued to stare at her even as the attention of everyone present turned to the host of the reception.
Fresia pushed her under the elbow.
«Look!»
Rhianon watched as several graceful women brought a basket full of grapes to the hosts. The gift must have been symbolic. But what it meant.
«From our fields» explained the girl in red whose hair and cleavage were also adorned with miniature tassels of grapes. Only whether the berries were made of jewels or whether the vines grew straight from her hands and scalp. Rhianon did not know; she could not get a closer look, nor could she hear all the remarks, as only scraps of phrase came to her. The master was saying something, frightened. He did not want to accept the gift, but the guests insisted. They wished that all his family could taste their fruit from the basket covered with leaves.
«Imagine him as a lord, not a country gent,» said Freesia with a chuckle. «And he cant behave himself.»
Rhianon glanced over her shoulder and noticed the grapes rolling rapidly across the floor from the basket and seeming to turn into something else. One berry rolled so far that it fell right under her feet. For some reason Rhianon really didnt want it to touch the hem of her dress. It glistened on the floor between her shoes, like a real ruby. Just a moment and that ruby spread across the floor in a living, sizzling juice. Rhianon clutched at Fresias arm and picked up her own hem. She saw the juice of the disintegrated grape burn through the floor, and small insect-like creatures swarming inside it.
«Dont be silly, no ones forcing you to eat it,» Freesia hissed at her. Rhianon backed away, watching the other berries warily. They rolled off across the marble floor like hard stones. It seemed as if they were bouncing between shoes and hemlines of polished round rubies.
Rhianon grimaced dismissively. What could be with those who tasted it. The piteous cries told her that before she could look. Something strange was already happening to all the people in the center of the reception; they were falling to the floor, whimpering, as if they were being burned from within. Rhianon saw the blood mixing with the crushed berries on the floor. And the fairies were laughing. Their laughter made their ears ring.