PINELIGHTforkindle (16 page)

The room was comfortable. I was comfortable, almost too comfortable, given my new situation. My life had turned upside down in the last few days—or week. I actually didn’t know how long I had been gone. But since I had arrived at the castle, since I had met the masked stranger, I felt safe, and I was slowly forgetting about my problems.

Only moments after my head wiggled into the pillow, I fell into a deep sleep.

-16-

ENCHANTED MELODY

In the darkness of my dream, I heard a low voice call to me.
“Clara…Clarabella.”
The voice sounded like music.
“Smile for me, my Clara.”

I could feel my body toss on the bed, but my mind wouldn’t wake. I vaguely saw a man in the distance of my dream, calling to me. He motioned for me to come to him.
“Leave your thoughts behind.”
His words grew softer as I began to wake.

When I opened my eyes, I had a strong urge to get out of bed and away from the dark. I jumped from the tousled sheets and looked around the room until my eyes adjusted. From beyond the walls, I heard music.

The faint sound of a melody floated in the night air. It sounded familiar. I knew the notes, and it was coming from within the castle. I lightly walked to the heavy mahogany doors I had entered earlier that night. A small draft blew over my nightgown as the doors swung open. Sitting on a small wooden chair was a glowing candlestick. I carefully picked up the bronze candlestick and stepped further into the hall.

A small part of me felt like I knew where to go. I followed the sound to the right path of the hall. The hallway was lined with finer things than before—golden candelabras, gothic sculptures, and several portrait paintings. I did not stop to appreciate the art. The music was like a drug to me, making everything else pointless. Before long, I noticed the walls, ceiling, and the floor of the hall were marked with a smoky gray color. The further I walked, the more I noticed the dark marks. At the end of the corridor, I came to a black wall.

The same smoky gray marks lined the entire wall, covering all traces of its original beauty. Two golden doors stood proudly in the center. A dim flicker of light escaped from beneath them. I quietly placed my candlestick on the floor and pushed on the cold metal doors until there was an opening large enough to squeeze through. The music grew louder.

I entered through a balcony of a room filled with the scent of burning incense and candlelight. I crept to a wooden rail that stood proudly on the balcony’s edge, held on tightly, and leaned over to examine the mysterious room.

The floor itself was a work of art. Huge squares of light and dark golden tiles swirled beautifully across the outside edges of the floor. The swirls of tile then crossed and intertwined to the center of the floor, where they created some type of intricate emblem. The lighting was too dim to make out the exact design, but it was enough light to know that it was stunning.

The ceiling stretched to incredible lengths. The walls leading up to the ceiling were painted with elaborate murals of beautiful men and women reaching for the clouds that seemed to float on the ceiling.

And then I saw him.

He stood gracefully stroking the strings of a violin—his eyes fixed on a statue of a majestic owl. The statue was perched on a tall pillar that overlooked the platform where he was standing. The wingspan of the creature stretched its way up to the painted ceiling of the hall and hovered from the platform over its spectator. Even from a distance I could see the great detail in the statue. The carvings in the stone made the feathers appear soft and the eyes appear glowing. I felt as if I could feel a breeze on my skin coming from the wings of the owl and a sharp glare coming from its glowing yellow eyes.

The man continued playing the enchanting melody—the melody that had led me to the hall. He did not break his stare from the frozen-winged creature. I took this opportunity to scan the remainder of the room with my eyes. To the right of me was a winding staircase that twisted down to the ballroom floor. The fourth or fifth step on the staircase was wider, much like an undersized platform. On the platform sat a small pillar where a golden rose and a single candle rested. Matching golden candelabras lined the walls of the entire room

I carefully took soft steps down the curled stairs, toward the man with the violin. When I reached the platform that held the rose and the candle, I saw his head turn, and I stopped.

Dark locks of hair rested against a face covered with a shiny mask, a mirror mask. His eyes held me in a trance, unable to move from the platform, unable to breathe. As I stood there dazed, he softly placed his violin next to the platform and gracefully walked toward me. I had butterflies in my stomach.

He stepped onto the platform and raised a hand over the single candle. The wick instantly sparked to life, along with every candelabrum in the room. I looked down to the rose just in time to see the crisp golden petals soften to a deep red.

He was standing in front of me with his hand held slightly out, reaching for mine. He did not say a word, nor did I.

There was a strange moment of silence while he escorted me to the ballroom floor, and then, like magic, the solemn melody filled the air again. My hands automatically slid over the black leather gloves, into his hands. The surface of the leather was cold, but inviting nonetheless. He pulled me near as our bodies moved to the music.

Suddenly, we were dancing. The room seemed alive as he twirled me around—like a doll lost in his arms. My mind was flying. I felt lost in a world that was between dreams and awake. He moved closer to my body and rested his cheek on mine. His skin felt like a cool rush of air. His lips looked smooth, like the surface of a priceless pearl. My eyes shut as I took in the gentle, but exhilarating fragrance that followed the cold sensation. His face turned, and his smooth lips and cool bursts of air glided over my cheek to my neck. I began to breathe in rhythm with him. His breathing quickened, and so did mine, as he gently lifted his head. I looked up and saw through the mask into startling dark eyes, but as I searched the darkness I became unexpectedly frightened.

While our eyes were still locked, a swirl of green slowly enveloped the darkness in his eyes as he whispered, “Stay with me.” His words were enticing. My eyes gradually closed as my mind began to release my worry and fear.

My head felt light and my body heavy, as if I were falling asleep. I quickly opened my eyes to see a ballroom filled with beautiful men and women dancing around us, smiling. The music grew louder and more intoxicating as we glided around the room. My eyes caught a glimpse of a grand orchestra playing, while a woman wearing a mask and red dress began to sing with the most intriguing voice.

Smile for me

And surrender all your fears

Come to me

I will silence all your tears

Feel my love

No more thoughts of loneliness

Take my hand

Forget all your emptiness

Close your eyes

Let yourself fall from the light

Hear my words

Give yourself to this dark night

Stay with me

Stay with me

“Stay with me…” he whispered again. I could only look in his eyes.

The song seemed to speak to my soul. My mind began to focus on the words as we glided around the room.

“I want to see you.” I gradually moved my hand to his face and placed my fingers on the hard edge of his mask. Just as the mask slipped from his face, everything went dark.

-17-

ILLUSION

“Are you well rested?” A gentle voice seeped through the cracked door in my room.
It’s him. The masked man.

I heaved myself from underneath the sheets and shyly walked over to him. “How’d you know I was awake?” I questioned, pushing the door further open.

“I have a sense for these things.” He paused to point with his eyes at a silver tray in his hand. “May I leave you with this?”

I smiled and then stepped back to give him room to enter. A trail of his spicy fragrance filled the room as he briskly made his way to the bed and placed the tray on its surface.

“Fresh fruit,” he said as he traced back to where I was standing. “I hope it’s to your liking.”

“I’m sure it will be.”

“Excellent,” he said cheerfully. “I also drew your bath. You’ll find the room down the hall to the left. There’s a wardrobe inside. Help yourself to fresh clothing.”

“I don’t know what to say, but thank you for your hospitality. You’ve been more than kind to me. I will never forget it.”

“Your happiness is all the gratitude I require,” he said. “Please join me in the front foyer after your bath.”

He slightly leaned forward, as a respectful gesture, and then exited the room as promptly as he had entered.

The tray contained a ripe collection of all four of my favorite fruits. Mangos, strawberries, pineapples, and bananas—they were the sweetest and juiciest I had ever tasted. I ate every bit of the fruit on the platter before dragging myself down the hall.

I followed the hall as he had instructed, until I saw steam spilling from a cracked metal door. The room was larger than I expected, especially in comparison to the bathroom I was accustomed to, but it was still a tranquil area. Small candles lit a path through the steamy air and led me to the tub. The porcelain bath was completely round, about three feet tall, and was the size of a large kiddie pool. A narrow table stretched across one end holding sponges, a towel, and a bundle of rosemary.

My bag hit the floor with a thump as I wiggled from the torn red dress I had once adored. In moments, my aching body was submerged in warm, rosemary-scented water. After running the sponge over my skin a few times and working the soothing water through my short hair, I pushed back against the smooth tub, thinking,
Who is this man who shows such interest in me? Why has he favored me over the other girls? Can he help me find my way home?

The longer I sat there, the less concerned I was about going home. But then I thought about Alice; she was still missing. And Fergus and Norma, they would be searching for me. I knew I couldn’t stay here long—I knew I had to get back home.

Questions still tossed around in my head, coming and going like Sunday morning traffic, but there was no way to make sense of it alone. I needed to accept that this land was real so that I could focus on finding someone who could tell me how and why I was here. I stepped from the tub, dried off, and wandered through the steam until I found the wardrobe.

It was pushed back in the corner of the room, flat against the ceramic-tiled wall. The wardrobe was tall, with dark carved wood. The carvings almost reminded me of the door to my room, except the images were of mermaids, not guards. I opened the door to reveal dresses of all colors, made from the most luxurious fabric. I ran my hands over the silky material of each dress until I decided on one.

The dress was hunter green, a little low-cut in the front—but not too low to hide the pendant—with a darker green velvet belt that wrapped around the middle. It was floor-length and split right below the belt to reveal a second silver layer to the dress. The wardrobe, of course, had shoes to match. Light silver slip-ons, with just a hint of heel. I felt older as soon as I slipped everything on.

After carefully closing the wardrobe, I made my way into the cool hallway. Candelabras were burning now, highlighting the way. Before I had made it through the doors that led to the foyer, I noticed an oval mirror beside them. I stopped and, for the first time, saw a reflection that I liked.

I’m not sure if it was the dress, the haircut, or the lighting—but whatever it was, it worked for me. The long dress flowed down to the floor, accenting all the right curves. My short hair had dried into small waves, perfectly framing my face. And even though I stood among the long, quivering flickers of the candelabras, my skin looked brighter and flawless.

Excitement swept over me as I pushed open the doors. A breeze ruffled my hair when I stepped onto the stairs. With my hand on the rail, I gradually made my way down into the foyer.

He stood like a statue at the bottom of the stairs—Michelangelo couldn’t have crafted a more handsome stone figure. His lips curled upward, and the hard appearance melted to that of an angel. I admired his beauty with every step of my descent. Even though his face was hidden under a mask, I smiled to myself, thinking he might be admiring me as well.