by K. A. Last
Lady Roche stands tall, a smile on her lips. “Consider this your punishment for disobeying me.”
Anger boils inside me, but I force it down. I won’t let them get the better of me. I don’t want to let them affect me so badly, but this time it’s too much. As hard as I try to remain calm, my heart hurts at what they have done. Tears sting my eyes, and I clench my fists.
“You are horrible people,” I yell, giving in to my rage. “Evil, terrible, horrible, nasty, people. You can dress yourselves for the ball.”
I turn and run.
Down the stairs, out the front door, and into the grounds of Roche Manor. Tears blur my vision as I stumble across the lawn towards the road. I need to get away from them. How can they be so cruel?
How did they even know I had a dress? Because I went to the attic?
I dig my pendant out of my pocket and put it on, touching the stone with my fingertips.
Maybe using magic has something to do with it. But I didn’t use my pendant. All I did was clean the house faster with a flick of my wrist ... so I could go to the attic. Does that count? Did Lady Roche find out because I broke a charm she had set for me?
Have I brought this upon myself?
My feet jar as they pound the road, and I keep running towards the only place where I might find an answer.
I run to the willow tree.
Chapter eight
THE CEMETERY GATE SQUEALS when I push it open. My eyes are blurry from crying, and I stumble as I race up the centre aisle. I fall. Gravel digs into my knees through the holes in my trousers. The pain is sharp.
“Why?” I ask the silent graves. “What did I do to deserve such cruelty?”
There is no answer. Only the sound of the wind as it swirls leaves from the ground. I stay kneeling, and put my face in my hands, sobbing.
Since my mother died, I have taken so much nastiness from my stepmother and stepsisters. But I have always picked myself up again and kept going, no matter what cruel thing they did to me. This time ... I’m not sure if I can get up; even to walk to the willow tree.
They have broken me.
When my knees are numb, and the tears have slowed, I take my hands from my face and stare at the ground in front of me. The gravel is barren. Hard rocks with sharp edges. I long to feel the softness of the grass at my mother’s grave beneath my fingertips. I struggle to my feet, and brush the dirt and small pieces of rock from my knees.
I feel as if I can’t go on, but I must.
Eleanor. My name floats like a murmur on the breeze.
I look up, my gaze darting around the cemetery. “Who said that?”
Eleanor, my dear. The voice is a whispering sigh, its melodic tune undulating with the swirling wind.
“Mother?” I fix my stare on the willow tree. Its weeping branches sway in the dim light of dusk.
But the voice does not speak again.
I walk briskly towards my safe haven. Towards my mother, and the answers I seek. If only my magic was strong enough to bring her back. If only she hadn’t died in the first place, I would not be here, crying from a broken spirit and a broken heart.
The climb up the hill to the willow tree seems harder and longer than it ever has. My shoulders are weighted with sadness, and by the time I reach my mother’s grave, my eyes have filled with fresh tears.
I fall onto the ground in front of the headstone, leaning on the rough rock and resting my forehead on my arms. My tears roll off my chin, making dark splotches on the stone.
Eleanor, the voice says again, but when I lift my head to look around, there is no one in sight.
Eleanor, look within, and you will find peace.
“Mother?” I ask. “Is that you?”
A bird chirps, then another, and another. Three swallows land on the ground beside me. One hops onto my knee, then off again, and the three of them take flight, disappearing into the weeping branches of the willow.
I look to the tree. Its leaves move gently, and it is then that I realise the voice is one only I can hear. It’s the voice of my mother’s spirit, speaking to me through the birds and the tree. It is the essence of my magic. I get to my feet and walk under the canopy, letting the tree’s leaves shroud me. It sighs when I place my hand on the trunk.
Since my stepsisters destroyed my dress, I have been blinded by my sadness and tears. Now, I stand before the tree and let my last tear fall. It hits the dirt at my feet, soaking into the ground. Blue light rises to the surface as if it has come from deep within the earth, and seeps up the tree. My pendant glows, and the light stretches to every branch and leaf of the willow, making them grow. The magic wraps its glow around my hand, and reaches out to warm my heart.
You do not need a dress to make you beautiful, the tree whispers, and I feel the words in my soul.
“But I cannot go to the ball in my ripped and stained clothing,” I say. “They would never let me in. I would be laughed at, and turned away.”
There is no response, and I stand in the glow of the willow, knowing it can give me exactly what I want. But what I want isn’t necessarily what I need. Suddenly, the magic from my pendant feels more like a curse than a gift.
What is most important to you? the willow asks.
I concentrate on the rough bark beneath my fingers, searching for an answer that will be true to myself, and not something I think the essence of my mother wants to hear.
“Love. Kindness. But above all, courage,” I say. “To get through this.”
The tree’s branches sway and the birds chirp above.
It was not the consequences of your actions that led your stepsisters to be cruel. It was their selfish hearts. They are responsible for what they do to you. But you are responsible for how you react. If you can forgive them, then you can go to the ball. For it is your love, kindness, and courage, that makes you beautiful.
“It has never been a question of if I can forgive them,” I say. “I forgive them every day for the things they do to me. My dilemma now, is that I am unable to fix my dress in time to get to Ashwin’s party. And I cannot ask you for what I desire, because it is for myself and not another.”
Eleanor, you have always been so selfless. You shall go to the ball, and you shall be the most beautiful girl there.
Wind howls through the branches of the willow. They sway frantically, and the blue light of my magic moves in rhythm with the swirling breeze. Within seconds I am shrouded in light that surrounds me like a hurricane. My hair whips around my face, and I try to calm the movement, but the willow has taken over. I close my eyes, and lean into the magic that is both mine and my mother’s.
My skin grows warm, and the sensation seeps into my body, filling me from head to toe. I raise my arms over my head, and fall into the swirl of the wind. Then everything is still. I strain my ears, listening for the sound of my mother’s spirit. For the hint of a breath in the willow’s branches. But all is quiet.
I open my eyes, and I’m surrounded by a sea of flowing blue silk. I’m wearing the most beautiful dress I have ever laid eyes on. The bodice is fitted to me perfectly, with ruching over the bust. The full skirt shimmers under the light of the just-risen moon. I run my hands over the smooth fabric.
My shoulders are bare. My hair has been pulled away from my face, and left to trail in soft curls down my back. I lift my hands to the mask on my face, running my fingertips over the beading and lace, then I grasp the full skirt of the gown and lift it so I can see my feet. They are encased in delicate slippers, made from glass that sparkles as if there are stars trapped inside them.
The stone in my pendant glows blue, shimmering like my dress.
“Oh ...” I try to speak, but I’m lost for words.
This time, when my eyes fill with tears, they are because of joy and not sadness.
“What price must I pay for this?” I finally manage to ask.
No price, whispers the willow. But as this day ends and a new one begins, your magic shall also renew.
I repeat
the words in my head. As this day ends ... Midnight?
“I have until midnight? But how am I to get to the ball? Chethan Manor is on the other side of the county. It will take me hours to walk there.”
The tree does not answer, but one of the swallows flutters to the ground. In its beak it holds a seed. The bird drops it on the dirt, and the seed sends a ripple through the blue magic that surrounds me. A vine sprouts from the ground, snaking off through the cemetery towards the front gate. It grows, and grows, dusted in blue light, until it reaches the road in the distance.
Go, the willow whispers.
I hitch my gown and race off down the hill, trailing the fingers of my free hand along the vine as I run. I’m not sure what to expect when I reach the end. The main gate sits ajar, and I leave the cemetery then come to a stop in front of a glittering silver carriage.
Led by two black horses, the carriage shimmers like starlight. The driver peers down at me and smiles, but he does not speak. A swallow perches on his shoulder, then I see the other two birds, one each sitting between the horses’ ears.
I take a step towards the carriage, and the door opens. Inside, the seats are covered with plush red velvet. I set my foot on the step, grasp a small handle near the door, and pull myself up, sitting and tucking my gown around me before closing the door.
The driver flicks the reins and the horses set off, pulling us towards Chethan Manor and Ashwin’s masquerade ball. The wheels of the carriage bump over the cobblestones of the main street in the village. When we reach the other side, I grip the top of the door and stare out the open window, fixing my gaze on the lights of Chethan Manor in the distance. I’m eager to arrive and find Ash.
Will he recognise me?
Finally, the enchanted carriage pulls up outside the grand steps of the manor. The driver jumps down from his post, the swallow still sitting on his shoulder, and helps me out.
“Thank you,” I say.
He nods, then takes up his driving position and moves off.
I flex my fingers to stop them shaking, and look up the stairs to the entrance. Chethan Manor has an exquisite clock set into the face of the building. The hour hand moves closer to eight pm.
I’m almost an hour late, and the party is in full swing. Those who are on the balcony above stare down at me. I keep my head high, lift my skirt, and set a foot on the first step, finding comfort in the fact that no one here knows who I am. I hope my stepmother and stepsisters won’t recognise me.
When I reach the top of the stairs, people step aside to let me pass. They stare, faces hidden behind all kinds of masks, but their eyes ask the same question. Who is she? Or maybe I am simply imagining them saying that, because in this moment I’m unsure if I even know myself.
Stepping into the ballroom is like stepping into a fairy tale. I have to remind myself not to let my mouth drop open. Golden lights drape from the ceiling in delicate strands, leading from the walls to the centre where a glittering crystal chandelier hangs. Recessed arches line the walls, some of them house marble sculptures. A small orchestra plays from a stage at the head of the large room, but perhaps the most magnificent sight is the explosion of colour on the dance floor.
People move this way and that, floating in time to the music. Dresses of every style and colour twirl and flick as the dancers move around the room. I take a few more steps, and a butler greets me, holding a tray of glasses filled with a bubbly liquid.
He bows. “Welcome, my lady. Would you like a drink?”
I curtsey. “No, thank you. I’m fine for now.”
He bows again and moves away, on to the next patron. I glance around the room, and spot my stepsisters near the buffet table, taking a drink from another butler’s tray. Anna stares at me, then elbows Drew and points. I move in the opposite direction around the room to put some distance between us. I don’t want to have to deal with them this early in the night. I’d like to at least find Ash first.
My guess is he will be dancing with some lucky girl. He is the birthday boy after all. As I walk, I search the moving bodies, looking for his mass of dark hair. A couple dances past me, and the boy’s gaze connects with mine, but it isn’t Ash. The girl puts a hand on his cheek and turns his face back to her. I keep moving towards the stage, standing on my tiptoes to see over the heads.
Then I see him in the middle of the dancing crowd. I immediately know it’s Ash. He is wearing a simple mask that covers only his eyes, leaving him completely recognisable. His lips are curled into a genuine smile. The girl he is dancing with glances in my direction, and Ash follows her line of sight. They spin, and he whips his head around to look at me again as his partner twirls. Then he leads her to the edge of the room, whispers in her ear and passes her to another dancing partner.
When Ash reaches me, he stops a metre away and bows. My arms tremble as I lift my skirt and curtsey in return, unable to contain my happiness any longer. A thrill runs through me just from the way Ash’s eyes have lit up.
“Good evening,” he says, grinning. “What brings you here tonight?”
“I hear it’s someone’s birthday.” I smile, too.
Ash steps towards me until he can whisper in my ear. “I noticed your pendant from across the room. You are ... stunning.”
He isn’t touching me, but electricity jumps between us, sparking on my bare skin. I want him to kiss me again, like he did this afternoon, only longer this time. My breath comes in short bursts, then Ash steps back.
“Would you like to dance?” He holds out his hand.
I don’t reply, because I can’t speak, but I slip my hand into his, and let him lead me onto the dance floor. Ash grips my right hand with his left, and rests the other on my waist. He holds me with his gaze, so intent that even if I wanted to look away, I wouldn’t be able to. He moves us around the dance floor, and while I’m staring into his eyes, everything else drops away. We float together, oblivious to everyone and everything around us.
Ash and I dance and dance, song after song, and my feet never feel tired. Other girls try to get his attention, but we are lost in each other. Lost in time and space. It’s not until the music stops, and our dancing ends, that I realise everyone else in the room is staring at us.
All eyes are on me, and I have the sudden urge to run.
Chapter nine
A FEW SECONDS SEEM like a hundred years. I want to shrink away into nothing so all these people will stop staring. I catch the glares from my stepsisters, glad that there are several people between me and them.
Ash bows and kisses the back of my hand. “Thank you for the dance.”
I smile at Ash and curtsey, but I notice more looks, and whispers behind hands, from the other girls. To stop myself from trembling, I keep my eyes on him.
Ash leans in and says quietly, “I think every girl in this room wants to be you.”
I grip his hand. Right now I’m not sure I want to be me.
“Can we get some air?” I ask.
But the orchestra pipes up with a loud intro, and Ash’s parents walk onto the stage.
Ash squeezes my hand gently. “Can you survive another ten minutes?”
I lean closer to him. “Your artefact?”
He nods, and I face the stage along with the rest of the party-goers.
“Welcome,” Lord Chethan says, his wife smiling at his side. “Thank you for coming to help us celebrate a very special occasion. Ashwin’s eighteenth birthday, and the presentation of his artefact.”
Lord Chethan holds his hand out, pointing towards his son in the crowd, and the room erupts with thunderous applause. I join in, clapping my hands, and smiling at the boy beside me.
“I have to go up there,” he whispers. “Will you be okay?”
I nod, because I can’t keep him by my side, even though I want to. I’m terrified of every person in this room. When Ash leaves he takes his warmth with him, and I shiver. But I hold my smile in place, and keep my head raised. These people don’t know who I am. I just hope I look confide
nt to them, and not scared out of my mind.
The crowd parts for Ash to walk through. He joins his mother and father, standing between them but a couple of steps back. They must have rehearsed this ceremony to prepare for Ash’s big night.
A servant walks onto the stage, holding a plush pillow in both hands. I stand on tiptoe to try to see what is on it, but it’s too far away. When he reaches Lady Chethan, the servant bows and holds the small cushion out to her. Ash’s mother picks it up and turns to her husband. He takes the artefact off the pillow and holds it in his palm.
“In celebration of Ashwin’s eighteenth birthday,” Lord Chethan says, “I present to him the Bain pocket watch.” He holds it up by the chain, and a brass clock hangs from the end.
A collective gasp circles the room. Even Ash’s eyes widen. He must not have been told he was receiving one of the most powerful artefacts in existence. An artefact that no one has seen in a very long time. Even I have heard of the Bain pocket watch, and know what it can do.
It can stop time.
“We entrust you with the protection of this artefact,” Lady Chethan says.
Lord Chethan holds out the chain, and Ash steps forward so his father can place the antique watch around his neck. When Ash straightens, light glints from the glass covering the face of the clock. The ballroom falls into an awestruck lull, then applause erupts again, even more ferocious than when Ash was called to the stage. He steps forward, smiling wider than I’ve ever seen him smile before.
Once the noise dies down, Lady Chethan says, “Please enjoy the rest of the evening.”
Ash comes down from the stage, and the orchestra starts playing again. People take to the dance floor, while others touch Ash as he passes them. He does not stop to talk to anyone until he reaches me.
“Do you still want some air?” he asks.
I nod. He gently takes my hand, leading me towards the exit. We weave through the bodies and then go out to the balcony. When the fresh air hits my face it’s a welcome relief.