by H. R. Moore
‘It would appear so,’ she said, as surprised as Marcus and feeling the need to escape, to consider what she had just done. ‘Well I hope you have a good walk home,’ she said mounting her mare.
‘What? You’re just going to leave me here?’ asked Marcus, his indignant, disbelieving tone comical. ‘You tell me you’ll go to the ball with me and then you just leave?’
‘Uh, yes. It would seem so.’
‘But I’ll see you before the ball?’
‘I’ll probably be at the Crownings, so you might see me there.’
‘But where should I pick you up?’
Anita thought briefly about this. ‘At my grandmother’s. Where you dropped me off the other day.’
‘Right, well I’ll let you know the time?’ Marcus stammered.
‘Great. I’ll look forward to it,’ she replied, in an entirely sterile way.
‘Me too,’ said Marcus hesitantly, not really sure what to say as Anita turned and cantered away, feeling a lot like he had just been flattened by an energy train.
*****
Anita and Cleo sat by the river; Anita had been to work at the Observatory, but Bas had been so down in the dumps that she had left early. She wasn’t sure if it was the conversation she had had with him, the energy, or both, but she couldn’t bear to be around him when he was so depressed.
‘So I told Bas that it wasn’t going to happen,’ Anita said absentmindedly, looking down at the river.
‘You did?’ Cleo turned to look at her, amazed. ‘I didn’t think you’d ever get round to finally doing that. At least that explains why he has been in such a bad mood over the last few days.’
‘I hope that’s not the only reason.’
‘Why else?’
‘The energy,’ Anita responded simply. Neither Anita nor Cleo knew in any exact way what that meant, but they knew whatever effects the recent energy downturn would have, they would almost certainly not be good. ‘And I’m going to need your help.’
That comment practically put Cleo into shock. Anita very rarely needed help from anyone, or she very rarely admitted that she did anyway. ‘Go on.’
‘Getting ready for the ball.’
Cleo’s reaction was immediate and as Anita expected, totally disproportionate. ‘Oh my Gods. No. Really? With Marcus?!’ Anita nodded, throwing Cleo an indulgent look. Cleo grabbed her and hugged her excitedly. ‘This is too exciting,’ she squealed. ‘So we need to get you a dress, and work out what you’re going to do with your hair, and your make-up, have you thought about make-up? And jewellery, and what about shoes? How high can you go? How much taller is Marcus than you?’
‘Um, well, he is definitely taller than me,’ she said, reliving an internal flashback to the encounter by the river; she had had to look up at him to meet his eyes. ‘I’m, what 5 foot 10? So he must be at least 6 foot 2?’ Anita supposed.
‘Yep, that sounds about right,’ said Cleo. ‘All the Descendants are tall, apart from bitch face obviously, the good genes clearly skipped her generation. So, ridiculous heels it is then and I’m taking you shopping. You need something spectacular to wear, and I’ll get my hairdresser to do your hair. We need all the help we can get in that department,’ said Cleo, eyeing Anita’s almost shoulder length dark hair suspiciously. It would definitely pose more of a challenge than Cleo’s long, silky, black tresses, but some kind of up-do would work. ‘So, sky high shoes, hair up, subtle makeup I think, floor length dress…’
‘…everyone will be in floor length dresses,’ Anita laughed.
‘Just clarifying, in case you get some crazy idea into your head and go shopping without me.’
‘I see,’ said Anita. ‘Well I’ll leave it to you, my style guru. Just don’t tell anyone who I’m going with, okay?’
Cleo was going to ask why, but realised she knew perfectly well why, so left it. ‘Okay, deal. We can go shopping tomorrow. This is too exciting for words,’ she said again, giving Anita another quick squeeze.
*****
The following day Anita and Cleo went shopping. Quite a successful shopping trip by Anita’s standards. As Cleo had been in charge, they had gone to Temple Mews, the most expensive area in Empire, obviously. Temple Mews was a beautiful cobbled street, lined with shops selling the kind of things that made you feel you were living in a surrealist painting. There were florists with displays that took you to a secret garden, tea rooms selling cakes so tall that they seemed to defy gravity and so light and fluffy that you felt like you were eating a cloud. The perfumers’ shops smelt like heaven with scents of bay, lavender, rose, rosemary and grapefruit wafting from their doors. The coffee and chocolate shops evoked daydreams of sailing off into the Wild Lands to explore, and the outfitters had displays that made you wonder if you had accidently walked in to the land of the Gods, the beautiful swathes of silk hanging in ways that could only have been designed for a Goddess.
Anita and Cleo found what they were looking for in the third outfitter they entered. Cleo had already bought her dress, so the trip had been entirely for Anita. It was the seventh dress that she had tried on and it was perfect, even Anita had to admit. It was a rich blood red silk, cut straight across the front with a deep, seductive v that showed off her perfectly toned back. It had a band around the front that fitted Anita’s athletic waist as though it had been made especially for her and dropped straight to the floor, kicking out at the bottom so it swished beautifully as she walked. They had both stood and stared for what must have been a full minute before either of them said anything.
‘Well I think this is the one,’ Cleo eventually piped up in a mock business like declaration. ‘Seductive yet sophisticated. Exceptionally elegant, and it will match lover boy’s cloak like a charm.’
‘Shut up,’ Anita hissed at Cleo, ‘someone will hear. And he is not my lover boy,’ she rushed the words as though it was painful. Anita bought the dress along with some gorgeous, sky high black stiletto sandals, with silk satin tie straps and then dragged Cleo out of the shop and back to her grandmother’s before she was responsible for any more damage to Anita’s bank vault. Thank the Gods her mother had left her some money when she had died, as shopping in Temple Mews would not have been possible on her salary from the Observatory.
*****
‘So, is Marcus any good at dancing?’ Cleo asked as she helped herself to a piece of Cordelia’s pumpkin and walnut cake.
‘How should I know?’ replied Anita. ‘But I would imagine so, given that the Descendants seem to be trained for every possible eventuality.’
‘You know Cordelia is a genius,’ Cleo garbled through a mouthful of cake. ‘She really is.’
‘Thank you Cleopatra,’ came a voice from the corner. Anita whipped round to see Cordelia standing looking smug. How had she come in without them hearing? Great, now Cordelia knew she was never going to live this down. ‘So you’re going to the ball with Marcus?’ Cordelia asked, clearly amused.
Anita glared at Cleo who shrugged apologetically. ‘She was going to find out eventually.’
‘Yes,’ sighed a resigned Anita, ‘I’m going to the ball with Marcus.’
‘I knew you were up to something,’ said Cordelia, settling into an armchair. ‘Come on, tell me.’
Anita recounted the story about the run by the river (leaving out the kiss), the encounter after Christiana’s funeral, and the ride in the woods, Cordelia listening intently, fascinated. When she had finished, Cordelia said, ‘we need to get you a dress. Something show-stopping, and shoes, and what are you going to do with your hair?’ Cleo jumped in at this point and Anita just went with it. She showed Cordelia her dress and shoes and listened to how she would have her hair and makeup, and observed Cordelia and Cleo’s childish excitement as they conspiratorially speculated about the first dance. After what seemed like an eternity, Cleo got up to leave.
‘See you tomorrow at the Crowning,’ she said, making her way to the door. ‘Don’t forget to get your beauty sleep. Tomorrow is a big day.’
&nb
sp; ‘Yes ma’am,’ said Anita half saluting, half waving as Cleo left the room. As she left, Cordelia turned to face Anita square on. ‘I know, I’m sorry…’ she started.
‘…sorry for what?’ Cordelia cut her short. ‘I’m thrilled for you and you two are going to look fabulous leading the first dance, you always were a wonderful dancer. Wait here, I’ve got something for you.’ Cordelia disappeared out of the room and came back a minute later carrying a large wooden box. She opened the lid and fumbled around inside before lifting out a beautiful gold and diamond tiara. It was made in a swirling, almost Celtic pattern with upward points designed to sit low on the wearer’s head. Anita sat and stared, totally speechless. ‘It was your mother’s,’ said Cordelia softly. ‘She would have wanted you to have it and it will go perfectly with that dress.’
Cordelia very rarely mentioned Anita’s mother, Clarissa. She always presumed that was because she didn’t know that much about her. Cordelia was Anita’s paternal grandmother, not that she ever really spoke about her son, Mathieu either. ‘It’s beautiful,’ said Anita.
‘It will look beautiful on you,’ she said finally, closing the wooden box, and Anita knew the conversation was over. She had tried in the past to probe about her parents, but Cordelia simply would not open up. Anita presumed that it was just too painful for her. She had rummaged around the cottage enough to know that Cordelia kept nothing that would give Anita any clues. She had been to the Archives but they had been useless, nothing but birth and death records for each of them and nothing significant in any of the newspapers. Her only hope was that one day Cordelia would decide it was time to tell her more.
CHAPTER 7
The following day Anita woke up early, as she always did and completed her usual yoga session in the garden, surrounded by her grandmother’s spectacular flowers and listening to the stream at the bottom of the garden gurgle by. As she lay on the ground afterwards, her arms outstretched, she couldn’t stop her mind from speculating about how that night would play out. She wasn’t worried about leading the first dance, that would be a walk in the park, but what did worry her was how everyone would react to her turning up with Marcus, not to mention what was going on with schizophrenic Alexander. One minute he wanted to ‘help’ her (although she was still far from clear what this actually meant) and the next he was insulting her. She lay there, eyes open, staring blankly up at the puffy white clouds sliding seamlessly across the powder blue sky, her thoughts racing, when she suddenly became aware of powerful energy very close by. She held her breath, adrenaline spiking through her veins, poised to take defensive action at any moment as she waited for movement.
‘Fancy seeing you here,’ drawled a voice from near the house and Anita immediately relaxed.
‘Still a master of originality I see,’ Anita smiled sarcastically, staying where she was on the ground looking up at the sky. Marcus walked towards her, Anita feeling his energy intensify as he came closer and hers responded in the same way. Thank the Gods he wasn’t a reader, she thought again. ‘Did you come for any particular reason, or just to watch me stare at the sky?’ she flirted, turning her head to watch as he approached.
Marcus said nothing, but kept coming steadily towards her until he was standing right over her. He crouched down beside her and she half sat up as he took hold of her hand and seductively kissed the back of it. ‘Are you always so feisty?’ he mused.
‘As a general rule,’ she answered sulkily, pouting a little.
‘I just came by to tell you that I will pick you up at seven o’clock, if that’s to your satisfaction?’
‘Seven o’clock it is,’ she said flashing him her sweetest ‘see, I’m not feisty when I don’t want to be’ smile.
‘In which case, I will look forward to seeing you then,’ he said with a matching ‘now that wasn’t so hard was it’ face, as he stood up, gently released her hand and disappeared back the way he had come.
Anita slumped heavily back to the ground and took a long, deep breath, relishing the excited anticipation she felt bunched in her stomach, butterflies fluttering endlessly around, their wings brushing her nerves, sending tingles to her brain. Eventually she got up and headed back inside, she would be late for the Crownings if she didn’t get a move on. As she approached the back door, she stopped dead in her tracks, spotting an enormous bouquet of dusky pink peonies sitting against the wall. She opened the attached card, reading the words ‘until later…’ that had been scrawled across it, in perfect, old fashioned script and rolled her eyes; trust him to have perfect handwriting.
Anita showered and got dressed, paying quite a bit more attention to her appearance than she normally would. She told Cordelia this was just in case Marcus had mentioned to anyone he was going to the ball with her and she attracted any resultant attention. Cordelia knew full well it was really just in case Marcus clapped eyes on her; she had never cared about looking good when drawing attention before. Anita walked with Cordelia to the Temples, just about managing to supress an enormous grin, but unable to curb it completely, so a faint smile played across her lips all the way. As it was a double Crowning, both the Temple of the Body and the Temple of the Spirit would be used. Most of the ceremony would take place in the Temple of the Body, but Alexander’s actual Crowning would take place in the Temple of the Spirit. This would take place after the Descendants had gone to whatever it was beneath the Temples, to do whatever it was they had to do. Anita and Cordelia once again sat at the back of the Temple of the Body and luckily this time Marcus was already at the front, so no opportunity for embarrassing looks as he walked past, Anita was relieved to discover.
Once again music flooded the Temple, however, whereas at Christiana’s funeral it had been haunting, today the hidden organ boomed out a theatrical, moody, full-bodied piece as the procession began. First came the Spirit and Body Councillors, all in full length cloaks with hoods up, so no-one could see their faces. Nobody was quite sure why they did this, other than to make sure the main focus was on those being crowned, but it invoked powerful visions of cult members on their way to make a sacrifice to the Gods and therefore looked utterly terrifying.
After the Councillors came Peter, looking easily the best he had ever looked. But despite his cloak, he still didn’t quite feel like a Descendant. He was tall and reasonably good looking, but had a sort of scrawny, wispy look about him, his wavy dark hair tinged with grey making him look tired, robbing him of the gravitas of the others. Next was Alexander, looking frankly like a God, his cloak billowing around him, his hair cut slightly shorter for the occasion, and Anita could feel her energy rise as he ascended the steps into the Temple. Alexander felt it, but kept his head facing forward down the aisle, ‘she has got to learn to control that,’ he said again to himself as he strode after Peter, every female pair of eyes making no attempt to hide that they were following him, transfixed.
Last and most melodramatic of all was Austin. He had his floor length, red cloak on, but also had a hood over his head, so nobody could see his face. He moved down the aisle as theatrically as he could, relishing his time in the spotlight. He’s not going to like sharing that with the other two, thought Anita, as he made his way to the front of the Temple. She got the impression that Peter would just go along with whatever Austin wanted, but she wasn’t sure Alexander would be so easy to control.
By the time Austin had reached the front, the Councillors had taken their seats and Peter and Alexander had sat down in the elaborate gold thrones that had been placed in front of the altar for them. Austin stopped a couple of meters in front of them and turned to face the congregation, throwing back his hood, revealing his face with a flourish.
He paused, surveying the scene in front of him before addressing the crowds. ‘Descendants, Councillors, children of the Temples of the Mind, Body and Spirit. We are here today to observe a momentous occasion in our history, the Crowning of two Descendants, Alexander son of Anthony, and Peter son of Christiana. As ever, a Crowning evokes mixed feelings; a sense of
loss for those who have moved on from this world, yet joy for the instatement of two new Descendants, about to begin their reign. As the ceremony is being held here in Empire, rather than in Kingdom by the relic, some of the ceremony will take place privately, below the Temples. However, this will only form a small part of today’s proceedings. Peter’s Crowning will take place here in the Temple of the Body, and Alexander’s will take place in the Temple of the Spirit, however the main part of the ceremony will take place here. I would like to take this opportunity to say how proud I am of both Peter and Alexander for the way they have handled this difficult time, and I look forward to having them join me as reigning Descendants.’
Patronising bastard, though Anita, ‘how proud’ he is of them? Please. As Austin moved to his front row seat, a Body Councillor stood gracefully, then moved slowly and purposefully to the centre of the altar, behind Alexander and Peter. She still had her hood up, her cloak falling round her shoulders, but despite this it was clear she had an athletic build and was still fit and toned at the age of 55. Anita knew her well, her name was Helena. She was the cousin of Celia, Alexander’s mother and she resided in Empire. Helena had been a great source of council and guidance to Anita growing up. When Anita was thirteen and displaying considerable Body abilities, Helena had helped her harness and use her skills. She had been there when Anita had been teased about being different and when people were scared to be friends with her, because with her abilities the other children imagined that she must have been sent from the Gods. Despite her help, Helena had never been a motherly figure and had always kept Anita slightly at arm’s length, she was not warm and cuddly, far from it, she was the most formidable person Anita knew, she made even Austin look like a pussy cat. But she had always been there to guide her and there had been a kind of curious connection between them that Anita found strange, yet oddly comforting. Anita had hardly seen Helena for the last few years, she was now the most senior Body Councillor, hence why she was performing today’s ceremony and spent a great deal of time with the academics, studying and teaching Body skills to those like Anita, who displayed potential. Helena had invited Anita to join the academics a couple of years back, but she had turned her down. Cordelia had not been keen on it, she had never really liked Helena, and anyway, Anita had been far more interested in continuing to study the energy. Luckily, Alistair had offered her a job at the Observatory a few weeks later, so it had ended up being the right decision for her to make, but Helena and Anita had only rarely been in touch ever since.
