Thoroughly danced out, Sean saw to it that everyone got milk shakes or soda floats before taking them around and introducing the gang to different cousins or hangers-on. Wanda paired off with the Blackthorne cousin she had met her first night at the estate, but didn’t stray too far from the group, trading looks with Seth every now and again. I really hope that something happens between those two; they would work well together, if they gave it even half a chance. The night went on; more conversation, more compliments, the occasional nibble on a morsel brought by a skating carhop or a mechanic. The partygoers started to calm and the party’s tone became more relaxed and slow-paced; after a final slow dance that Staci shared with Sean, with Riley and Jake also in their own little world as they swayed to the music, everyone settled into the half-cars to watch a double feature. Both were ’50s horror classics: the original The Blob and I Was a Teenage Werewolf. Of course, Wanda knew everything about both films; Staci was pleased to see that she was sitting with Seth in one of the half-cars, quietly expounding on the films as they watched.
Staci felt happy. It was nice and cool out, but she was warm enough snuggled up next to Sean, his arms wrapped around her shoulders as they watched the double feature. When the final credits rolled, it was apparent that everyone was ready to crash for the night. Sean escorted everyone that was staying to their rooms; he had made arrangements so that each one of the gang had a separate room. Staci did her best to suppress a smile as she watched her friends’ eyes go wide at the richly appointed accommodations before wishing each of them goodnight. She lingered a little in Riley’s room. Riley closed the door behind herself, Staci and Wanda, then did a running leap into the enormous bed, landing with a laugh. “This is amazing!” she said, rolling over and spread-eagling herself over the expanse.
“I dunno why he didn’t put all three of us in the same room,” Wanda observed, looking around at all the space.
Staci shrugged. “Maybe because he figured we’d prefer privacy over a slumber party,” she suggested. “They certainly have enough rooms to spare; I doubt they have ever completely filled the house before.”
She and Wanda left Riley exploring her own little mini-bar and refreshment center and went to Wanda’s room. It was virtually identical to Riley’s except for the color (browns and creams instead of lilac and green) and the art on the walls. “I’m almost relieved,” Wanda said, after looking around. “If this had been done up in black and red, I think I might have run away screaming.”
Staci blinked at her. “Why?” she asked, puzzled.
“Because…okay, the ’50s costume made for me…I can get that. You figure a Goth Girl is going to like being a Beat Girl, and it was all stretch stuff, so not hard to fit. But if they’d tailored a whole room to me? That pegs the creepy meter.” Wanda strolled into the room and threw her beret on the bed. “This…looks like a swanky hotel room. I’m okay with that.”
“I’m glad it meets with your approval,” Staci said dryly. “I’ll see you in the morning. Follow your nose to the dining room, they’re laying out a buffet.”
She didn’t wait to hear Wanda’s answer, but Wanda really didn’t have one; like Riley, she was busy exploring. Staci went back to her own room, smiling a little. This was going to be a great weekend.
* * *
Staci had another dream that night. The gazebo in the middle of the hedge maze seemed to be a central part of the dream; she kept running through the maze, trying to get away from something, but every time she turned a corner she was back in the center with the gazebo. There was some sort of faint light coming from behind it…or from the structure itself, she couldn’t tell. Everything seemed to go dark around the edges of it, and she felt as if she were being sucked into a black hole, unable to turn away or escape. Staci felt a scream rising in her throat, but before she could let it out…she woke up in bed, sheets twisted around her. She must have been thrashing in her sleep.
I’ve never had nightmares this bad before. What’s happening to me? Is it the magic, or all of the monsters that seem to want me dead? And why should she have dreamed about that gazebo? It was a decorative building and a beautiful one at that. She did her best to try to forget the dream as she got out of bed and started to get cleaned up for breakfast; the clock on the nightstand said that it was nearly six, so Sean would surely be up by now. No matter what she tried to think about, however, the image of the strange gazebo kept coming back to her. It had seemed so beautiful the other day…save for the glimpse of horror that she had caught at the edge of her vision, turning the beauty into something sinister.
Once she had brushed her teeth, taken a shower, made sure her hair was presentable, and thrown on one of her New York outfits—not a vintage thing, just a nice summery top and skinny jeans, something that was completely out of place in Silence—she figured that she was ready to gather up the troops. As she made sure her top was smoothed down, she couldn’t help but think about the last time she’d worn it—just about this time last year, and it had been so hot in New York that people were searching for any spot of cool they could find, and the roar of air conditioners had been audible even above the traffic noise. Here…if she wore this outfit down in Silence, she’d half freeze to death.
She knocked on Wanda’s door first. “You up?” she called softly.
A few moments later Staci heard movement in the room. The door cracked open, and Wanda was there; her eyes were half-lidded, her hair a mess, and she didn’t have any makeup on. “Gimme a minute. I never sleep this hard. Must be one of those space-age wonderbeds or something. If there isn’t coffee somewhere, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.” With that the door slammed shut; for a second Staci considered opening the door and making sure Wanda wasn’t plopping back down in bed, but then she heard the faucet running in the connected bathroom. The same scene played out for Riley, Jake, and Seth; each of them was completely out of it, groggy and in full-on sleep inertia. We didn’t party that hard last night. It’s not like any of us were drinking, either. Weird.
Or maybe it was just simpler than that. Staci remembered all too well trying—emphasis on trying—to sleep on the miserable excuse for a mattress that was all she could find when she first moved in with her mom. None of her friends had access to Dad’s credit card, maybe they had nothing but mattresses that were as old as their parents were…and she’d bet not one of them had ever slept on a really good bed before. That was probably all there was to it. Maybe that was what was causing her dreams; being unaccustomed to a really nice mattress. Staci shrugged it off; breakfast and seeing Sean again were more important, so she went downstairs.
Sean was alone in the dining room, but the buffet had been set up. As always, it was impressive, just like a brunch buffet at a really fancy restaurant, complete with a servant making custom omelettes, one making fresh pancakes, waffles and french toast, and one carving a whole ham. She had a hard time deciding, but eventually settled on ham quiche, some fresh fruit and a waffle with whipped cream and strawberries. By the time she was done making her selections, Wanda and the others appeared, followed by Finn, Morrigan, and a couple of the other cousins. Staci mentally shivered at the sight of Finn, but did her best to not let anything on. Wanda and the others looked awake now; the others, especially Seth and Jake, perked up when they saw the food, but Wanda looked as if she ought to have a storm cloud over her head. While the rest picked out something to eat, Wanda had an urgent, whispered conversation with the servant in charge of omelette-making. He went out and came back with a big teapot, which he gave to her. She sighed, and took it, left it at the spot she’d chosen as her seat, and got herself food. Meanwhile Finn and Morrigan parked themselves at the far end of the table; the rest of the cousins—and the ones who kept arriving, including Sean’s father and the rest of the adults, dispersed themselves over the intervening space. It was really odd; Finn kept staring at Wanda with a little half-smile on his face, saying nothing. Wanda either didn’t notice or pretended not to. Either way, she wasn’t
nearly as talkative as the others, quietly eating and sipping a large mug of what she had poured out of the pot, and Sean said was strong green chai. It wasn’t coffee, but since Wanda hadn’t assaulted anyone, it must have met with her approval.
The conversations were muted, for the most part. Everyone relaxed and enjoyed the food and company. But strangely, as Wanda became more and more human, Finn lost his smirk, which slowly turned into a slightly petulant expression. Finally he spoke up.
“This morning I had to look twice to realize I was here at Blackthorne, and not in the dining room of the Hyatt, there are so many strangers here.” It could have been a joke, except that Finn’s inflection made it sound, ever so slightly, like an accusation. Staci felt as much as saw Sean tensing, getting ready to take issue with Finn when his father spoke.
“I, for one, am glad that we have some new blood here. Keeps things fresh. And, besides, Finn,” Bradan said, “I’ve noticed that it’s been a long time since you have brought anyone new to our table. And no one as interesting as Staci. And her friends, of course.” He inclined his head first to Staci and Sean, then to the rest of the gang before fixing Finn with a stare. “I think you’re finished eating. You’re excused.”
Finn stared back for a tense moment, before grinning and putting his napkin over his plate. “You’re right. I am quite finished.” He stood up quickly, almost knocking his chair back, and left the room, sending servants scurrying out of his path.
That briefly put a stop to conversation. Then one of the female cousins laughed. Morrigan glared at her, but that didn’t stop her. “Welcome to Family Feud,” she said merrily to Staci and her friends. “With this many of us in a room at the same time, it was bound to break out sooner or later. Just ignore Finn. He doesn’t think anyone who doesn’t polish his shoes with their tongue is worthy of life.”
Bradan was smiling, and said, with only a tiny touch of rebuke, “Now, Brigette, that is scarcely fair.”
“True sir. He prefers the tongues to operate somewhat higher than the shoes.” Brigit smirked.
Bradan actually laughed out loud at that. “Brigit, either someone is going to murder you in your sleep, or you’ll go far.”
She smirked even harder. “Hey, at least it will be entertaining, sir.”
The rest of breakfast was incident-free. Once everyone had their fill of the delicious food, Sean announced a special treat for everyone; since the preparations for the party that evening were going to cause a bit of noise and commotion around the pool, he had arranged for a trip to one of the nicer beaches in the area, with plenty of refreshments of course. “It will be an old-fashioned New England clambake,” he said cheerfully. “Something that has, sadly, long been absent around Silence.”
“That’s because you’d freeze your patooties on the beaches around Silence,” Seth observed. “Nobody sane here ever goes to the beach.”
Bradan excused himself, but wished everyone to have fun and enjoy themselves; “Work, of course. It seems that it’s never done, sometimes.”
“Go run up and get what you need, there will be cars waiting out front,” Sean told them. “We’ll meet you there.”
Staci did just that; she’d warned the others to bring suits. She stuffed hers into the beach bag she found waiting on her newly made bed, and ran down again.
This time she wasn’t the first; the boys had gotten there already, and were climbing into a limo—this time one of a line of four that were waiting for passengers. Thankfully, it seemed that Finn was not going to join them. Apparently his exchange with Bradan over breakfast had been enough to cow him—for now, at least.
The limos rolled through the forest on what appeared to be a private road, until, suddenly, the sun broke through the ever-present clouds and shone down on…a cliff-side parking lot, which the limos lined up on. Clutching her beach bag, Staci got out of the car with the others, and went to the edge of the lot.
There was a zigzag staircase made of white-painted wood making its way down the cliff and ending at a perfect beach—a half-moon of sheltered white sand, currently bedecked with portable cabanas, changing pavilions, and even, prosaically, a pair of port-o-potties. There were servants—at least Staci guessed they were servants—moving among the tents, setting out stacks of towels, unfolding lounge chairs, digging the pit for the clambake, getting out food and drinks.
“Holy crap,” Jake said, “How did they get all of this out here? If it wasn’t the Blackthornes, I’d suspect magic!”
The others laughed. Staci did too…but she had to wonder, how much of it was money, and how much magic? So far, what she’d seen and done herself had all been small…she supposed you could count making gold chains out of nothing “small.” Could you do something like—create or transport all this stuff by magic?
Then she realized she didn’t care, and it didn’t matter. Because it wasn’t as if she could find out by herself, and if you could do that sort of thing, Dylan would almost certainly already know.
“What, someone brought a bag of holding?” Staci said mockingly, and punched his arm lightly. “Come on, let’s get down there and enjoy the first sun I’ve seen since I got here!”
Chapter Fifteen
By the time the cars were ready to take them back to the Blackthorne Estate, it was past dark. They had campfires burning, had had a second clambake, this one with lobsters, and were munching on a high-end version of s’mores, with exotic chocolates and handmade marshmallows. To be honest, Staci would just have soon stayed here. It was still actually warm on this beach, and aside from the ritzy food, this was the most normal things had been since she arrived at Silence.
But it was clear that the rest of the guests, her gang included, wanted to get back to the estate to find out just what the Blackthorne idea of a “horror movie night” was. So they all changed out of their swimming gear, climbed back up the cliff to the waiting limos, and piled in.
This time Sean came in the same car as the rest of the gang.
“Are we doing costumes again?” was the first thing that Seth wanted to know when they all settled down comfortably. It was pretty clear to Staci that he’d loved his ’50s Scientist getup.
Sean smiled. “Only if you want to,” he said. “Some of the other guests are very into…cosplay?”
Wanda nodded. “Cosplay’s the right word.”
“Some of the cousins don’t see the point. So some people will be in something like the costumes we were wearing last night, some will be in casual attire, and some will be…well…you’ll see.” He smiled even larger. “Strangely enough, Father and his guests are extremely fond of…cosplay. So even if you see them, I am certain enough to place a bet on it that you will never recognize them. There are a selection of costumes hung up in a storage closet that we’ll open up for everyone, since there are more people from Silence coming up tonight. Feel free to costume or not.”
With that, everyone retired to the house to freshen up and, if they wanted, to get changed into costume. Seth was practically skipping the entire way up to his room. Staci and Wanda decided that they were just going to dress normally; Riley and Jake decided to pick out a pair of the provided costumes, so that Seth wouldn’t be the only one dressing up again. This time, Seth changed up his costume a little bit; black PVC gloves over a white lab coat, goggles of course, and white rain boots. He was going for a Dr. Horrible vibe, he said, with enthusiastic recommendations that Staci borrow the DVD he had of the character. Riley was able to put together an Ellen Ripley cosplay, while Jake modified a Vietnam soldier costume so that it more closely resembled “Dutch” from Predator; his Arnie accent wasn’t half bad, though he did sputter a few times trying to get it just right. Wanda just got into her overnight bag and brought out more of her Goth gear: black yoga pants, black spike heels, and a black poet’s shirt with big puffy sleeves and a black beaded belt holding it in at the waist. Staci got out her vintage black silk jumpsuit again; this time she wore it over a dark green silk turtleneck with a dark green fringed
“pirate” sash. She already knew that when she did that, it looked like an entirely different outfit.
When everyone was ready, they made their way downstairs and to the backyard. The house staff had to have some sort of SFX experience among them; the effect of all of the decorations was breathtaking. The entire area had been transformed; the swimming pool had fake moss-covered stones and reeds around its perimeter, giving it the appearance of a natural pool. Most of the underwater lights had been turned off, with only a couple of dim, green lights left that gave no hint to the depth or the shape. Mist emanated from the surface, seeping out onto the rest of the yard. The trees had been done up with spider webs, and strange lights would occasionally shine through the branches; it looked like a UFO abduction was happening in the distance. The rest of the lighting was muted, casting long shadows onto everyone; some torches were set up here and there for extra light. The outdoor theatre had been made up to look like a graveyard, complete with chairs made of pillows that looked like mounds of moss and leaves, and backrest-headstones; the headstones actually had guests’ names on them, with either disturbing or comical inscriptions. Finally, there were speakers cleverly hidden everywhere; spooky sounds played over them, the finishing touches on the creepy horror movie ambiance complete. Nor were the effects confined to the pool area; out in the larger gardens and the maze, mist billowed, strange lights came and went, and there were more sounds, some of them…unsettling. Absolutely every bit of it looked real. Not one piece was out of place, or looked artificial.
Seth just stared. “Whoa.”
“Seth, you have a knack for understatement,” Wanda drawled.
There were several buffet tables set up, as usual. All of the servants were dressed up as either mummies or zombies this time, shuffling around with trays of drinks and food. There were townies milling about, eating, drinking and talking. Sean spotted the gang, freeing himself from a group of his cousins; several were in costume, but most were not. Of the costumes that Staci spotted, most were on the female cousins. One was a Victorian woman in full mourning, complete with a head-to-toe veil. One was in an Italian Renaissance gown in a garnet-red velvet; she carried a golden, jewel-studded goblet that looked real. Two more were in medieval gowns. Staci didn’t know what time periods they were from, but one was dark blue and high-waisted with a broad gold belt, and long, pendulous sleeves lined with gold and a fancy headdress; the other was a tight-fitting cream-colored gown with a kind of loose sleeveless gown over it half blue and half red, the sides open to almost her knees, showing the gown underneath. She wore a simple gold circlet on her head.
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