Masquerade

by Lam, Laura

  Drystan said nothing, but was the first out the door. He held his back straight and stiff.

  We were silent as we returned to the Penny Rookeries. Curfew was still in full force, and we kept to the shadows. The streets were empty, and we saw only one night watchman, easily avoided. As soon as we’d climbed the fire escape and climbed into the bedroom, Cyan went to her room.

  Drystan sat on the bed, staring blankly at the rug.

  ‘I’m all right, Drystan. We’re all right. I know it was—’ I began.

  ‘I couldn’t do anything,’ Drystan interrupted.

  I stayed silent.

  ‘When Frey was hurting you. I couldn’t do anything. There was no way for me to help. I was completely useless.’

  ‘That’s not true—’

  ‘It is. I couldn’t even touch you without being thrown across the room. You and Cyan have the powers, the abilities. I can pick a lock, but otherwise I can’t help much at all.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ I insisted. ‘After I came back I needed you and you were there. You held me and helped me come back.’

  I received a wan smile at that. ‘When I couldn’t reach you it was . . . terrifying.’

  ‘I know.’ I sat next to him on the bed and put my hand over his.

  ‘I feel useless,’ he went on. ‘And then I feel guilty for thinking like that. Like I’m some child left out of a game I can’t play. You’re part of something. Anisa’s worried for the Chimaera. You’re the one she said could help. Not me.’

  ‘There’s more ways to stop them than just powers,’ I said, picking my words with care. ‘Say, for instance, what happened to me today happens again. I can’t defend myself when I’m like that. I couldn’t even see. I’d need you to help keep me safe. It’s a different battle, but that doesn’t mean one is better than the other.’

  He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. ‘I know. I suppose I’m a bit jealous, which seems ridiculous when I see how much grief it causes you and Cyan. She has to hear the stupid, cruel thoughts humans think. You’re reliant on Elixir, though it seems to have expanded your powers. It’s still amazing, what you two can do. Even that boy Kai had those wings, and probably other powers besides. Sometimes I imagine what kind I’d have.’

  ‘And what are they?’ I asked, curious.

  He leaned back on the bed, crossing his arms behind his head. ‘There’s a few. I wouldn’t mind being able to convince people to do things. I’m already pretty good at that, mind, but a bit of a stronger push. Or maybe the ability to be invisible.’

  ‘You could then become quite the jewel thief,’ I said.

  He laughed. ‘Wouldn’t hurt. I’d steal you an emerald as big as your head.’

  ‘We’d have to sell it. I don’t think I could wear a ring the size of my head on my finger. But that’s a romantic gesture. Until we’re caught and thrown in prison.’

  ‘Then, with my power of invisibility, I’ll break us both out and we’ll pick up right where we left off.’

  ‘Hmm, I suppose that would be rather handy.’

  That won me a smile. ‘I’m being stupid.’

  ‘No, you’re not.’ I leaned back on the bed next to him. ‘I’d be jealous too. And you shouldn’t feel stupid for saying how you feel.’

  He sighed and held out his arms, and I crawled into them. ‘You’re right. I feel better after having my little strop about it.’

  ‘Good.’

  We were silent. I listened to his heartbeat. His fingertips stroked my scalp through my hair. Eventually, our eyes closed and we drifted to sleep.

  18

  RETURN TO SNAKEWOOD PALACE

  Attention: security throughout the Royal Snakewood Palace is to be doubled. Shifts are lengthening from nine to ten hours. Anyone willing to work extra shifts, please report to Head of Security immediately, and new vacancies will be posted imminently. Current guards are encouraged to recommend names of friends and family they can personally attest to being strong, capable, and trustworthy.

  In the Royal Snakewood’s name,

  Palace Security.

  — Personnel Memo, Royal Snakewood Palace

  A few days later, we received a letter during breakfast. As soon as Drystan came back to the kitchen carrying the heavy, creamy envelope, I knew what it would be.

  We’d received another invitation from the palace.

  Maske was excited. The last fee we’d received had paid for most of the repair of the roof of the Kymri Theatre. With another fee of the same amount, Maske said, we could afford a better apartment.

  ‘I sort of like this place,’ I said. ‘It has charm.’

  ‘The hot water’s stopped working and every time we turn on the stove we worry it’s going to explode,’ Cyan said. ‘And there’s mould in my room.’

  ‘Charm?’ I said. She mimed throwing something at me and I pantomimed ducking.

  It would be good if we could have larger accommodation. We were cramped in this four-bedroom apartment after the sprawling rooms of the Kymri Theatre. Magic props took up a lot of space.

  Drystan, Cyan, and I didn’t share the same enthusiasm for returning to the palace. We knew all too well that it would be more than just a magic show for the Princess. The Steward had left that almost-threat hanging in the air: he might have use for us. We had volunteered our services. I would put gold coin down that the Steward would be appraising us again, and if he found us worthy, would collect on that promise.

  Maske was jolly the rest of the day, occasionally punctuating the tuneless humming to wonder what in the theatre we would fix next. ‘The kitchen? The gridiron? Recreating the mosaic in the hallway?’

  We didn’t have the heart to tell him that the price for these things would be far steeper than he knew.

  That afternoon, the Penny Rookeries threw a street party. We were invited to perform magic. Most people knew us in the neighbourhood by now. Every now and again, we’d perform street magic in the Rookeries, refusing to take anyone’s coins, knowing full well they had none to give. Sometimes people would stop us on the pavement when we weren’t doing magic, to greet us and tell us how much they enjoyed our shows. I’d spied a few people playing with packs of cards, trying their hand at their own tricks, and it’d made me smile.

  The street party was a way to unwind. Even those loyal to the Forester cause were exhausted by the tension throughout the city. There had been no more Kashura attacks, yet people still feared their neighbours, others calling for a freeze on immigration to Ellada. Rumours of more attacks were thick in the air.

  We went down to set up in one of the squares, dressed in our magician’s costumes, and Drystan and I wore our Glamours. Most of the cobbles were loose, and many were missing. We spread out our rugs and props as people set up food and casks of ale. A local tavern keeper gave us some mugs of his best as a thank you for our performances.

  The party started early, as it’d have to finish before nightfall. Soon, the square was packed with people. A band on the other side of the square played jaunty tunes. A crowd gathered around us, and we began our show.

  We hadn’t crafted our usual act, lacking the space to fully implement any of our magical plays, and as people came and went, they’d likely lose the thread of the narrative. And so we drew on our now-wide array of tricks – cards, coins, flowers, and more. Cyan even took out her old tarot deck and set up a table nearby, reading fortunes. She told me earlier she hadn’t read fortunes since she left the circus, but that she wasn’t as resentful or afraid of it any more. But she wouldn’t be looking in people’s minds to tell their fates, only reading the cards that were there.

  After a few hours, we tired of the street magic and stopped. Lily came to visit and she and Maske went off together, arm in arm. We knew we should tell Maske who Lily truly was, but at the same time, it seemed as if she should be the one to tell him. I wondered how Kai and Frey were faring, back at Lily’s apartment, and whether or not they wished they could be here.

  We wandered through
the square, purchasing snacks. We had sausages in rolls with onions and peppers, more mugs of ale, and later, gooey, just-baked chocolate biscuits. My stomach was happily full. I liked being surrounded by the crowd of loud, cheerful people. A temporary dance floor of cheap wood had been erected in front of the band. Cyan danced a jig with me and then Drystan. We twirled about to the sound of fiddles.

  Afterwards, breathless, I had more ale, the world growing warm. It reminded me of the bonfires and dancing after the circus. For a few brief hours, I was able to push all the troubles from my mind.

  On the day we were to go to the Snakewood Palace, Maske lost his voice and came down with a fever.

  He struck the pillow with his fist when we told him he’d have to stay behind. He couldn’t very well narrate the show without his voice, and the guards wouldn’t let him near the Princess looking as sick as he did. He lay back in his bed, defeated. I made him a cup of tea while Cyan and Drystan finished packing up the kit.

  Maske thanked me and fell into a deep sleep. I doubted he’d wake up before his tea was stone cold. I couldn’t help but be thankful he’d be staying behind. We hadn’t told him about the Princess’s secret, for we were true to our word.

  The carriage from the palace arrived, the footmen making short work of the heavy boxes of our kit. We set off and the palace soon came into view, the turrets stark against the overcast sky.

  After the seemingly endless search through our possessions, we were led into the same room where we had performed last time. We unpacked, painting our faces and changing into our costumes, and then waited for the Princess.

  She came in with her two friends who had been at the other party, whose names I didn’t recall, and another girl. She walked in front of them, stiff and proper, and settled at the front of the stage, rearranging her skirts. Cyan fed us the names of the girls we didn’t know: Miss Laya Oakbeam and Miss Katharine Huckleberry. The last face I most definitely did recognize: Darla Hornbeam, Drystan’s youngest sister. Drystan stared at her avidly.

  I gave Drystan’s shoulder a squeeze and then we entered the stage. Drystan would be narrating in Maske’s absence, with me and Cyan performing. The show had been designed so as to only briefly require a stagehand.

  We’d run the programme by the Steward and his council beforehand, and luckily they’d approved it. They didn’t want anything too political, they said; but perhaps they hadn’t noticed that the tale was more so than they realized. It was one of my favourite of the magic plays we’d developed. I hoped the Princess enjoyed it.

  ‘A long time ago,’ Drystan began, ‘there was a princess who lived in a faraway land. She had many friends, but sometimes she liked to be alone to watch the sun set and the moon rise.

  ‘One day, she went to a tower that faced the west, as it had the best view. She hadn’t gone to that tower in a long time, for she’d found the gargoyle statues frightening. Yet one of them did not seem so fierce, so she stood beside it as the last of the sun faded.’

  With his foot, Drystan tripped a hidden lever, which caused a long swathe of silk to fall over the stage for just a moment. He tore it away, revealing Cyan and me in costume, freshly emerged from the trapdoor under the stage.

  Cyan was dressed as the Princess, wearing a Temnian robe, her hair freshly braided with beads. She wore a tin crown studded with glass jewels, but under the light of the glass globes it looked as fine as any coronet.

  I was not so pretty. My skin was painted entirely grey, my hair dusted white with chalk. I wore old, ripped clothing, likewise dyed grey and chalked. I stared straight ahead. A gargoyle statue.

  Drystan, behind stage, moved the glass globes to mimic sunset, and another silken cloth fell against the backdrop. This one was dark blue and dotted with stars, embroidered by Cyan and Drystan, as I was still hopeless with a needle and thread.

  As the last ‘ray’ of light left the stage, I shook myself awake, a small cloud of chalk rising from me. Cyan jumped back in shock.

  ‘Good evening, Your Majesty,’ I said.

  The girls in the audience tittered, but not Princess Nicolette. She watched us closely, her falsely green eyes locked on us.

  Our story began. I introduced myself as the gargoyle, giving my name as Petros. Cyan crept forward again, curious. I told her that I was under a dark spell, and that I’d been placed on this windy tower as punishment.

  Drystan added a timely sound of wind blowing and thunder, thanks to a whistle and a rattling sheet of metal.

  I stood on the low wall of the tower and stretched. My constructed wings rose behind me, fully articulated bat-like wings made of metal, wood, and leather. They were crude echoes of Kai’s. Again, murmurings came from the other three girls in the audience, but not the Princess. I stood on my tiptoes, ensuring they had a full view of my wings. I glanced down at Cyan and saw a flash of an emotion I could not place, and then it was gone. Though I frowned at her, I did not break character. Hopping down from the wall, I held up my hands to stop Cyan from fleeing the ‘tower.’

  ‘Wait,’ I called. ‘If you stay, I’ll show you magic, and tell you tales of such wonder that you have never heard. The world is wider and wilder than they have told you. Do you not yearn to see the spark?’

  Hesitantly, she returned, perching on the wall.

  The magic show began in earnest. With prestidigitation, I made more of the carved wooden puppets I’d used in the lantern appear, the movements blending seamlessly with the tales I told the princess of lands far away, filled with other Chimaera that I had flown to see. Behind stage, Drystan helped with sound and lighting effects.

  Then I, as the gargoyle, grew despondent.

  ‘You can no longer fly,’ Cyan said, sadly.

  ‘No, I am enchanted. By day, I am hard as stone. By night, I live, but I cannot leave the top of this tower. I cannot fly.’ I shrugged my shoulders and the constructed wings flapped.

  ‘Why were you cursed this way?’

  ‘They’re afraid of me,’ I said. ‘They think I mean them harm, though I’d do no such thing.’ Not subtle. ‘A wizard decided to trap me and was hailed as a hero for saving the kingdom from danger. No one realized until it was too late that he was the monster, not me.’

  Cyan stood. ‘I know magic as well,’ she declared. ‘Perhaps I can free you, and you may fly again.’

  My eyes went wide with hope. ‘You would do that?’

  Cyan closed her eyes, sifting through the audience’s minds to find out which display would impress them best. She clapped her hands together and the hidden chemicals she palmed sparked. Drystan manoeuvred behind the scenes, and Cyan lifted into the air, held aloft on a strong, nearly invisible black wire.

  She began to mutter in Temri, peppered with the odd bit of Alder. She clapped her hands again and, thanks to Cyril, the glass globes bloomed, as if lightning was in the room. Drystan created another clap of thunder. Cyan lowered herself to the ground, panting.

  I sighed. ‘It was a lovely display, but it didn’t work.’

  Cyan looked crestfallen. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I am, my Princess. For look, the sun returns.’

  On cue, Drystan and Cyril moved the glass globes so that the stage filled with the soft oranges and pinks of sunrise. I returned to my perch and settled myself back into my statue pose.

  As the ‘sun’ rose, I froze. Cyan touched my shoulder and jumped back.

  ‘So cold! As if made of stone!’ she exclaimed. She stared at me in amazement, and then gathered her skirts to flee.

  Another drop of the curtain, and then Drystan appeared back on the stage, taking up his role as narrator. Below stage, Cyan and I readied ourselves for the second half of the show.

  Drystan stared at the audience, chin held high. ‘The years passed, but the princess continued to visit the gargoyle at the top of the tower. As she grew from princess to queen, she searched for a way to break the gargoyle’s spell. For over these many years, they became close friends, and the gargoyle, with his many years of experi
ence, often gave her sound advice for her kingdom.

  ‘But sometimes, the princess despaired – could Petros ever truly be set free? Could she undo the punishment he was wrongly given?’

  Drystan disappeared with a flourish of his cape, leaving us to take the stage.

  Cyan had changed into another costume, a dress with long, flowing sleeves. Her new crown rose high from her brow. She stood on stage, stiff-backed, as regal as the queen she was meant to be.

  ‘I’ve searched far and wide,’ she said. To her left were several books which levitated, thanks to more hidden wires, twirling slowly. They were more sedate versions of the flying books we had seen in Frey’s room. ‘I’ve emptied libraries and asked the greatest scholars and folklorists throughout the Archipelago about the myths of gargoyles. But no one knows anything that could free you. I’m so sorry, Petros.’ Her voice broke. ‘I don’t know how to save you.’

  I turned my head and jumped down from the tower perch. ‘I do not think there is a way to free me, fair Queen. I have long since resigned myself to this fact. I am content to stay here, looking out on the horizon to protect you from evil, as long as you continue to visit me.’

  Cyan shook her head. ‘That is not enough. I want you to be free, to fly as I promised you.’

  I smiled at her sadly. ‘Seeing the world through your eyes is freeing enough, my Queen. Thanks to you, I know all that happens in our lovely land. Your stories are my sustenance. For even if I was free, where could I fly? The world has changed so much since I was young. People would fear me, and perhaps even hunt me. No, my Queen, please. Do not spend a moment mourning my situation. I am where I need to be. With you. I am home.’

  At my words, the glass globes shifted to dark blues and purples. But the light that shone on me was all reds, oranges, and yellow. With another lift from unseen wires, I spread my wings out wide.

  ‘I’m freed,’ I said, delighted. I gave a short flight around the stage, moving my mechanical wings. The audience clapped as Cyan clasped her hands over her mouth in delight.

  ‘But how? Why only now?’