“So those who pass into the realm of Light cannot return to the Shadow. They are trapped here until something is done?”
“Looks to be that way.”
“That is bad news,” Loisa said gravely.
“It is indeed,” Elle said.
Around the table there was a round of raucous laughter. Fat Paul had joined the drinking competition but had succeeded only in spilling wine all down his front.
“And what of the Council of Warlocks?” Loisa whispered.
“Oh, Loisa, in truth I do not know.” She looked at her friend. “I have heard word that they have gathered in Venice and that there is much unhappiness over the way things have turned out.”
“That is to be expected,” Loisa said.
“But what do I do now? Do I claim the title? And if I do, where does that leave matters with Marsh? Could he ever accept my authority?” Elle put her hands to her cheeks, which glowed from the mulled wine and the warmth of the fire. “I am so confused.”
Loisa put a reassuring hand on her arm. “It will all work out in the end. In my experience, things always do.”
“I do hope you are right,” Elle said. She noticed that both Marsh and Dashwood were glancing in their direction.
Mercifully, at that moment, Jasper stole around the table and whispered something in Loisa’s ear. Loisa smiled and raised her glass. “To friends returned safely.”
Glasses were raised in response.
“And to new ships!” Heller bellowed. “May the Oracle’s Revenge bring us riches beyond our dreams!”
There was a roar of agreement.
“And now it is time for tonight’s amusement!” Loisa clapped her hands, and, through the side doors, the evening’s entertainment arrived. It was a troupe of circus performers, dressed in brightly colored red and green costumes. Among them was a troupe of snow fairies, who flew about covering everything in sparkly fairy dust.
Elle clapped her hands as a fire-eater blew a great plume of flames through the air while jugglers juggled and acrobats did somersaults around them. “Oh, Loisa, they are marvelous! Where on earth did you find them?”
Loisa just smiled. “Let us enjoy tonight and be merry, for tomorrow we have work to do.”
“Work?” Elle said.
“Oh yes. Tomorrow, my dear, you and I go to Venice.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book is dedicated to the ballet dancers of Cambodia. Anyone who has ever seen a performance will agree that the poise and grace with which these women move is astonishing. It takes years of practice and dedication to achieve something so beautiful.
In 1906, the kinnari dancers of King Sisowath appeared at the Colonial Exposition in Marseilles. They took Europe by storm and performances were attended by thousands.
Unfortunately, the twentieth century has not been kind to the ballet, but despite terrible atrocities and violations of human rights, these women kept dancing. Throughout the years of adversity, the art was kept alive—with woman practicing the dance in secret—often in the face of grave personal danger. Without the dedication of these dancers, the world would have lost something beautiful forever. In my own small way I would like to acknowledge their bravery and sacrifice.
A big thank you to the staff of the USS Midway Museum in San Diego, California. Thank you for patiently answer all my strange and silly steam-engine related questions. It’s only once you stand next to the turbine of a 700-foot vessel that you fully comprehend the enormity of such a ship.
I would also like to extend a little hat tip to Joris-Karl Huysmans and Aleister Crowley for their teachings on the occult. Patrice’s visit to Café de L’Enfer was my reimagining of the Black Mass as Huysmans and Crowley would have told it.
Lastly, I would once again like to thank the teams at Del Rey UK and Del Rey Spectra for all your hard work. Without you, this book would never have seen the light of day. Thank you especially, Emily Yau, for all the proof reading.
ScreamQueen
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