Ash (24 page)

She turned back to the driver to thank him, and he said to her, “Do not forget: Al this wil end at midnight.”

“I wil not forget,” she told him, and then the footman stepped back onto his perch, and the smal white carriage rolled away through the crowded courtyard and vanished through the main gates.

She turned back toward the palace and took a deep breath to steady herself, and then she walked careful y through the crowd of carriages and up the steps toward the grand, open doors. As she went into the entry hal , those she passed turned to look at her, and many of them whispered about her in her wake, for none had ever before seen a gown such as hers. She went up the wide marble steps at the end of the hal and passed a set of huge mirrors hanging on the wal that reflected the burning light of the chandeliers. She paused and looked at her reflection in those mirrors, and she could barely recognize herself. The glittering mask over her face and the diamonds around her neck were luminous, and her dress seemed to float over the floor. She looked, she thought, like a fairy woman, and when she raised her hand to touch her face to make sure she was stil flesh and blood, she saw the moonstone ring glowing as hot as fire.

She swal owed and turned toward the bal room, hesitating in the grand doorway to stare at the spectacle ahead of her. The 205

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room was hung with silver and gold garlands and heaps of white hothouse camel ias. There were hundreds of people dressed in crimson and gold and emerald dancing to the music of flutes and pipes. Directly across from her on the other side of the bal room, tal glass doors led into the cool night. She had never seen so many people in her life, and she felt overwhelmed, for it seemed that a good many of them were staring at her as she stood there in the doorway of the bal room in her glimmering fairy gown, searching for the King’s Huntress.

When someone came up the stairs toward her and bowed, she did not realize that he was bowing to her until he asked,

“Would you like to dance?”

He wore a blue and red uniform with elegantly polished black boots, and his epaulets gleamed gold. He extended a hand to her, and she said in sudden realization, “I do not know how to dance.”

He smiled at her beneath his mask that looked like the face of a hawk or at least, his mouth curved upward. “Let me show you how,” he said, and again he extended his hand to her.

In something of a daze, she took his hand and al owed him to lead her down the steps. As they descended toward the dance floor, the crowd parted, and the guests in al their multicolored gowns and glittering masks stepped back to watch them take a position in the center of the floor. Her partner bowed to her, and following his lead, she curtsied, and the musicians began to play. Somehow she managed to copy his steps, and as more and more people began to join in the roundelay, it seemed as if her shoes were leading her along, telling her feet and legs where to move. It was a bit unsettling, and as 206

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she turned she could feel the gown swirling around her like wings trying to lift off, but her stolid, uncompromising humanity was weighting her down in an eerie battle. When the dance final y concluded, she bowed to the man with relief, for she did not enjoy the feeling that her shoes knew more about dancing than she did.

But her partner had not noticed her discomfort, and he said,

“You are a beautiful dancer.” He offered her his arm as he escorted her off the dance floor. “Wil you come and have some refreshment?”

“All right,” she answered, and as they walked off the dance floor she wondered why so many people were looking at them.

He led her through the tal glass doors and out into the chil y night. They walked across a courtyard paved in white stones, past a fountain shaped like a horse and rider, and toward a grand glass conservatory, lit from within by hanging lanterns.

The guards standing outside the entrance to the conservatory bowed to them as they approached and then opened the door, and Ash realized, suddenly, that the man she had danced with was Prince Aidan, for he wore the royal crest on his shoulder, and when he spoke to her, she remembered, at last, the sound of his voice. “Only my special guests are al owed to enter here,” he said to her, and inside the conservatory was a wonderland of blooming flowers and greenery, and the air was warm from the braziers that were placed down the center gravel aisle. On either side of the path were cushioned couches, and al around were potted plants: artful y trimmed orange trees, flowering camel ias, white roses twining up lattices along the glass wal s. On the couches and along the paths, there were 207

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ladies dressed in gowns of many different colors, their feathered headdresses studded with jewels, and as Ash and Prince Aidan walked down the path, they al turned to look at her. He took her to an armchair and said, “Will you rest for a moment?

I wil return shortly.”

Ash nodded and sat down. The prince bowed to her and departed, and she watched him proceed down the path, greeting those he knew along the way. There was stil no sign of Kaisa. She looked down at her hands to avoid the people who stared at her, and saw that the hanging lanterns were reflected in her ring like smal embers. She felt awkward and ungainly and grateful for the mask that hid her face, and she felt Sidhean’s magic al around her in a way she had not felt on the day of the hunt. Perhaps she was far enough away, now, from the Wood that the magic had to be stronger—or perhaps it was this gown, for she felt it must have been worn before by some fairy princess who once lived in an immense palace built of crystal and gold. It was as if she had slipped into someone else’s skin, and it did not quite fit.

Thoroughly discomfited, Ash left her seat rather than wait for Prince Aidan to return. She walked in the opposite direction that he had gone and turned off the central aisle as quickly as she could, making her way past seated couples and boxes of rosebushes. At last she found an exit, and she pushed open the glass door and escaped outside, relieved to be away from the prying eyes of those who had watched her departing. She closed the door behind her and looked around. She was on a brick path that led away from the conservatory, and on either side of the path hedges grew to the height of her shoulders.

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With no other choice, she went forward and followed the path until it ended in a door in a wal . She reached out and put her hand on the cold brass handle, and it opened into a corridor lit with candles placed in pewter sconces molded into the shapes of tree branches. She was inside the palace again, but she did not know where; the corridor was empty but for her and the shadows made by the flickering candlelight.

Her footsteps were loud on the flagstones as she walked down the corridor. On the wood-paneled wal s hung portraits of women dressed in hunting gear, some sitting astride grand horses, some standing stiffly in the foreground of a wooded landscape, and one, with her long blond braid flying out behind her, raising a sword to a rearing stag. The corridor ended in a circular chamber with two black doors on the far side, and to her right, an archway revealed another corridor that turned a corner to an unseen destination. On the floor of the circular chamber, the tiles were inlaid with the image of a horse and rider facing a bowed stag, and as Ash walked around the image, looking at the skil with which the horse’s eye had been shaped, one of the doors opened, and Kaisa emerged. She seemed surprised to see Ash there and said, “Are you lost, madam?”

Ash realized that the huntress did not recognize her, for she was wearing the mask stil . “No,” she said in relief. “I was looking for you.”

Kaisa came toward her curiously, recognition dawning in her. “Ash?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Ash. She could see the hollow in the huntress’s throat, now, where the collar of her shirt was open; her skin 209

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was colored gold in the candlelight. She came closer to Ash and lifted her hands to the mask, and when the cuffs of Kaisa’s shirt fel back, Ash saw the glint of silver on the huntress’s wrist before she untied the silk cord that held the mask to Ash’s face.

When Kaisa stepped back and saw her, she raised her eyebrows and said, “What a gown you are wearing.”

Without the mask, Ash felt self-conscious; she was not sure if Kaisa had ever looked at her like that before. She held out her hand to take the mask back, but Kaisa did not give it to her. “Let me have it back,” Ash said.

“I prefer to see the face of the person I am talking to,” said Kaisa.

“Then you must not enjoy the masquerade.”

The huntress shook her head. “Not especial y. I feel that there are so many opportunities for slights perceived or real when we do not know who we are with.”

“You don’t enjoy the mystery of it?”

“There are other mysteries I prefer,” Kaisa said, and then she returned the mask to Ash, who took it but did not put it on. “Shal we go back to the bal ?” Kaisa asked. “I am sorry I was not there to greet you.”

Ash laughed nervously. “I can go back . . . but I must wear my mask.”

“I suppose it is a masquerade,” Kaisa admitted.

“Do you not have a mask?” Ash asked. The huntress wore a dark green shirt, the sleeves laced together with a brown cord from elbow to wrist, and brown breeches with shining boots, but she did not carry a mask.

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She shook her head. “I don’t like them.” She gestured toward the corridor that led away from where Ash had come from. “Shal we go?” This corridor was also paneled in wood, but after a short stretch it opened into a wider hall, lit with hanging chandeliers. It was empty but for the two of them.

“Why were you in the conservatory?” Kaisa asked as they walked.

“I was with Prince Aidan,” Ash began.

“You were with the prince?” Kaisa said incredulously.

“It is not what you think,” Ash objected, laughing. “He—he asked me to dance. He did not know who I was. Then he took me to the conservatory.”

“Did you tell him who you are?” Kaisa asked.

“No, I—I left,” Ash said, sounding rueful.

The huntress laughed. “This is why masks lead to trouble,”

she said.

Ash had a sudden, horrifying thought, and she said, “Please don’t tel him who I am.”

“Why not? Are you afraid it wil ruin your reputation?”

Ash laughed in spite of herself. “Of course not,” she said,

“but if my stepmother hears of it . . . it wil do me no good.”

Kaisa seemed amused. “Do you truly believe that Lady Isobel’s opinion would matter more than Prince Aidan’s?”

“You don’t know her as wel as I do,” Ash said grimly. “Just let Prince Aidan remain in the dark about
one
of his dance partners tonight.”

Kaisa’s mouth twitched in a smile. “All right,” she relented.

“He shal have this one mystery, then.”

As they approached the bal they began to hear the music 211

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drifting down the corridor, and when they turned the corner they came to a balcony overlooking the bal room. Ash went to the edge of the balcony and looked down at the dancers, and Kaisa came and stood beside her, leaning on the wide marble balustrade. “It is quite a sight,” Ash said.

“Indeed,” said the huntress. “But your gown puts al of theirs to shame,” she added with a smile.

Ash was embarrassed. “It . . . is not mine,” she said.

“Whose is it?” Kaisa asked. “The Queen’s?” She straightened up and reached out to touch the jewels around Ash’s neck, her fingers warm against her skin. “These are worth more than a fortune,” she said. Then she moved away, stepping back and crossing her arms, and gave Ash an appraising look. “You look beautiful,” she said, and Ash could not meet her eyes. “But the dress does not suit you.” The warmth that had flooded through her when Kaisa had touched her twisted; she felt her cheeks flaming. “It looks like it is suffocating you,”

Kaisa continued. “Who gave you this gown and that horse you rode to the hunt? You must have a wealthy benefactor.”

“I . . . yes,” Ash said. She was not sure if she could speak of it, not directly.

“It frightens you,” Kaisa observed.

Ash knew she could not conceal her fear; she felt a prickling sensation along her limbs where the fabric of the dress touched her, as if there were fingers prodding her to move.

This gown and this night were the last she could ask of Sidhean; his magic was impatient for payment. She could feel him waiting, as if he were lurking just around the corner, watching her.

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Kaisa came closer to her and took her left hand, the one that was not wearing the moonstone ring, for Ash had curled that one away behind her. The mask dangled between them, the cord twined in their fingers. “Let me help you,” Kaisa said.

“You don’t need to face it alone.”

Ash heard her speak the words, but it was as though she heard them very distantly, for the dress was still pulling on her, tugging her mind’s eye back to Sidhean. Then the huntress drew Ash’s right hand from behind her back, covering the moonstone ring with her warm, human fingers, and at last Ash felt her there, so close that she could feel the heat from her body. And she said, “You cannot help me; I must finish this on my own.”
There is nothing you can do
, she thought.
I am the
debt; not you.
For the first time, the consequence of her choice was devastatingly clear: fulfilling her contract with Sidhean meant that she would never see Kaisa again.

“Is it your stepmother?” Kaisa asked.

Ash laughed, for her stepmother’s demands were insignifi-cant in comparison to the enchantment she had tangled herself in. “No,” she answered. “It is nothing so simple.”

“Then what is it?”

“Please,” Ash said, “I must do this alone. You do not need to concern yourself with me—I know you have more important things to attend to.”

Sadness washed over the huntress’s face. “Ash,” she said, “I would do whatever I could to help you. How can I make you understand that?”

“But why?” she could not help asking. “I am no one a servant in a poor household. What could I give you?”