by Kat Shepherd
Nothing unusual had happened during rehearsal, but Maggie sat up in her seat with a gasp every time she thought she caught a flash of red. The constant vigilance had left her exhausted, and her green eyes were tired and strained by the time rehearsal finished and the last few actors gathered their things and headed out. Kawanna waved at the girls, who had moved to a back corner to wait for her.
Kawanna glanced at her watch, which had a beaded rainbow band. “Do y’all mind if I head upstairs to do some quick paperwork before I drop you home? I’ll only be about ten minutes.” She looked around the theater. “Assuming you feel comfortable being here alone.”
Clio looked at the others before answering. “I think we’ll be okay. There hasn’t been any sign of Vivien.”
“See you in a bit.” Kawanna disappeared through the double doors to the lobby.
The auditorium was mostly dark, with only the stage lights left on. The big spotlight made a bright circle in the middle of the floor, and the side lights lit the empty set in a cool, blue light.
“That went better than expected,” Tanya said softly. “Maybe Vivien realized that she doesn’t need to take revenge. Maybe she found a way to move on.”
“No way.” Maggie thought back to the lonely chamber in the basement, imagining herself trapped inside it for years. It made her chest feel tight, like it was difficult to breathe. “I’ve seen what she’s done. It doesn’t seem like she would ever get over it.” She shook her head. “I used to think I would do anything to be famous. But I can’t imagine cheating or hurting another person for it.”
No one spoke. Everyone seemed to carry with them the weight of the little stone room and its sad secrets. Suddenly, Clio gripped Maggie’s arm. Without speaking she pointed at the stage.
From the darkness of the wings, Vivien Vane crept tentatively onto the stage like a deer into an open meadow. Once the lights reached her skin she lifted her head proudly, and her arms stretched out as if embracing an imaginary crowd. It was Maggie’s first clear view of her, and she could see the actress’s gown was filthy and tattered by years of wear and grime. Her white gloves had long since turned gray. She carried a bouquet of dead black roses, leaving a trail of dried petals in her wake. She placed the roses gently down at the stage’s edge.
Tanya sat up and opened her mouth to speak, but Maggie stopped her. “I don’t think she knows we’re here,” Maggie breathed into her ear. Tanya stayed quiet. Vivien Vane unclipped the veil from her face, and a flurry of moths flew out and up toward the rafter lights. Her stringy hair—or what was left of it—was piled into a colorless rat’s nest at the crown of her head. A spider crawled out of her ear and across her face, the dry skin peeled and caked with garish white powder and circles of pasty rouge. Kohl-black makeup rimmed her milky, sunken eyes, and vermilion lipstick was swiped across her bloodless lips in a messy slash.
She gazed upon her imaginary audience, and her mouth stretched open in a smile that cracked the skin of her cheeks and revealed a scattering of tobacco-brown nubs of broken teeth. She looked into the wings as if waiting for her cue, and stepped into the spotlight.
As soon as the light hit her skin, the aged hag melted away, and Maggie was stunned to see a beautiful woman standing in her place: the gown fresh and luxurious, the piled hair now thick and golden blond. Her luminous skin was pale cream, her cheeks flushed with the pink of spring roses. Long, thick lashes ringed her dazzling blue eyes, and her ruby lips opened, revealing perfect white teeth. She took a deep breath and began her monologue.
“What hath quenched them hath given me fire…” As Vivien spoke the lines of the mad queen, she paced the stage, moving in and out of the spotlight, her face and body transforming with every shift between light and shadow.
Maggie looked over at Tanya, who was frantically writing in her notebook, her eyebrows so high on her forehead they almost disappeared. She couldn’t see the others, but she imagined they were just as stunned as she was.
Vivien finished her monologue and stepped forward, bowing deeply to her imaginary crowd of admirers. She reached down and picked up the discarded bouquet as though it had just been thrown to her by an adoring fan. She held it to her face and buried her nose in the blooms. She took another deep bow and blew a kiss to the audience before she swept into the wings and disappeared.
Maggie held her breath, waiting to see if Vivien would come back. When the stage remained silent and still a few moments later, Maggie turned to her friends. “Guys, I think Vivien is getting ready for something. She’s rehearsing.”
“Yeah, but for what?” Tanya asked.
“Emily’s part.” And Maggie knew there was only one reason the ghoul would still be rehearsing the part of Lady Macbeth. It was because Vivien didn’t plan for Emily to be around to perform it.
CHAPTER
19
THE NEXT MORNING during break, Maggie and her friends stood shivering in the covered courtyard, talking about the events of the previous night. Maggie felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around. Val and Nobi stood behind her, Val dressed all in black with a pair of heavy engineer boots and a battered men’s overcoat, its lapels encrusted with buttons and pins. Nobi slouched next to her, wearing red skinny jeans and a frayed Dear Evan Hansen T-shirt under a pinstripe blazer. His spiky hair stood at attention, each individual lock molded to a perfect point. Maggie’s face broke into a surprised grin. “Oh, hey!”
“Hey,” Val said with a shy smile. “We haven’t seen you at the library lately.”
“Yeah, sorry,” Maggie said. “I thought you guys might not be so psyched to see me after I got your hopes up with the whole petition thing. Sorry I wasted your time and everything.”
“It’s not your fault. Since when has this school ever listened to the students?” Nobi shrugged. “It was worth a try anyway.”
“Thanks,” Maggie said. She introduced Nobi and Val to her friends.
“Are you guys going to see Macbeth at the Twilight this weekend?” Val asked. “Nobi and I got tickets for opening night this Friday. I hear it’s going to be amazing!”
Maggie and her friends looked at one another uneasily. “Yeah, we’ll be there,” Maggie said.
“Cool! See you later.” Nobi and Val headed off with a wave.
“Oh, great,” Maggie said. “Now we can add my new drama friends to the list of people to worry about on Friday night. Sounds perfect!”
“At least Juniper won’t be there,” Tanya said.
“Yeah, it’ll be way past her bedtime,” Maggie answered.
“It’s really cool that Emily found a sitter to stay with her at home so you could still come to the show,” Rebecca said.
“For sure,” Maggie said.
“I wish my aunt would just cancel the Macbeth performance,” Clio said. “But she won’t. She says that no one is going to listen to her if she tells them she has to cancel a play because of a curse. The actors have put in too much hard work. What are we going to do?”
Maggie pulled the zipper of her fuzzy pink coat all the way up to her chin and yanked her faux-fur hat down over her ears. “The Night Queen is using Vivien’s anger to bait her into doing something to Emily.” Maggie couldn’t bring herself to say out loud that Emily might die. It was too frightening to think about. “So, basically, Vivien is the Twilight’s curse. She’s been the cause of all the tragedies at the theater. If we find a way to stop Vivien, then we find a way to stop the curse, right?”
There was a long silence, and Tanya shoved her hands deeper into her coat pockets. “Let’s hope so.”
* * *
Dark clouds obscured the full moon as Maggie and Clio stood outside the theater on Friday night taking tickets and watching all the guests walk in. Maggie was worried about Vivien’s curse, but she couldn’t help but be drawn in by the glamor of the theater’s grand reopening. Kawanna had brought her sense of flair to the evening. A red carpet led from the sidewalk to the front doors, and she had set up a decorative backdrop on one side, where a pho
tographer from the Piper Register was taking pictures of posing guests.
“Wow,” Maggie said. “It’s just like a real premiere.” She pointed to the backdrop. “That’s called a Step and Repeat, because at big movie premieres and stuff, there are so many paparazzi that celebrities have to take a step, pose, and then keep repeating it all along the red carpet.” Maggie put her hands on her hips and angled her body slightly to one side, showing off her leopard-print flats and marabou-trimmed emerald trapeze dress. “What do you think?”
“Obviously you’re a natural. That dress is super cute,” Clio said. “The green really sets off your red hair.” Clio was also dressed up for the occasion in a bright-yellow dress with a turquoise statement necklace and matching flats. Her hair was pulled up in a bun that sat on her head like a crown.
“I’m feeling really nervous,” Maggie admitted. “I mean, our only plan to protect Emily is to find Vivien and capture her before she can hurt anyone. What if we can’t find her? And what about the Night Queen? This plan has more holes in it than swiss cheese! What if it doesn’t work and something happens to Emily? It’ll be our fault.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to Emily,” a voice said behind her. Maggie turned to find Rebecca dressed in a short black dress with a white collar and cuffs. She had on black suede high-tops, and her hair was in two braids. “Sorry I’m late. My brother had a meltdown just as we were leaving, so my parents decided to stay home. My mom just dropped me off.” She lowered her voice. “Have you guys been inside yet? Anything strange going on in there?”
Maggie shook her head. “I got here early and helped Emily get into her costume, and things have been quiet so far. I left her in the greenroom running lines with some of the other actors.”
“What’s a greenroom?” Rebecca asked.
“It’s like a little backstage lounge where the actors relax and hang out when they don’t have to be onstage for a while.” Maggie glanced at her watch and eyed the crowd of people still waiting to get into the theater. “We should get back inside and check on things.”
“You and Clio go ahead,” Tanya said. “Rebecca and I will take over here and meet up with you in a few.”
“Thanks,” Maggie said. She and Clio hurried into the crowded lobby. A throng of people stood in line at the old glass concession stand, manned by volunteers from the Piper Preservation Society. A sign on the counter said ALL PROCEEDS GO TO RENOVATING THE THEATER. Maggie bit her lip, and her eyes wandered to the ram’s horns in the balcony’s grillwork. A few weeks ago she would have done anything to see the theater returned to its former glory, but now she hoped the city would tear it down. She hated imagining the Night Queen hovering just out of sight, watching and waiting for the chance to open up a permanent portal from the Nightmare Realm, so she and her lusus naturae minions could come pouring through.
“Let’s check backstage first,” Maggie said. “That seems like the most likely place for Vivien to strike.” As she walked through the doors to the auditorium, Maggie caught a glimpse of red in one of the balcony boxes and let out an involuntary cry. A closer look revealed a young woman in a red jumpsuit squeezing against her boyfriend for a selfie. “Sorry,” Maggie said. “False alarm.”
They picked their way down the aisle, stepping carefully around the dazzled theatergoers who were oohing and aahing at every stunning detail. “I can’t believe I’ve walked by this place every day for years and never had any idea what was inside,” Maggie overheard someone say. If only you knew, Maggie thought to herself. She glanced at her watch again. “This is taking too long.”
“Side door,” Clio answered. She grabbed Maggie’s wrist and ducked through a doorway that led to a wide carpeted hallway. Most of the guests had elected to come through the main doors, so the corridor was empty.
Clio and Maggie pulled open a door that said BACKSTAGE ENTRY. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. A burly crew member in a black T-shirt went to stop them, but he recognized Maggie and let them through. “Have you seen Emily?” Maggie asked.
“She’s standing in the wings.” He pointed to the figure in a long red gown and matching veil over her face, standing in the half shadow of the curtain. Maggie caught her breath for a moment. Relax, she told herself. That’s Emily’s costume. You helped her get dressed yourself.
Maggie started toward the wings. “Emily! We came to tell you to break a leg!” Instead of waving back, the figure shrank into the shadows. Emily and Clio looked at each other and hastened their steps. By the time they reached the curtain, the figure was gone.
Clio’s voice was low. “Not Emily.”
“I need to go make sure the real Emily’s okay,” Maggie said.
Clio’s phone buzzed and she pulled it out. “Rebecca and Tanya are coming in. I’ll go ask my auntie to get them backstage. I’ll meet you outside the dressing rooms.”
Maggie raced toward the dressing rooms, peering up to check the empty rafters as she passed behind the closed curtains. Would she be able to stop Vivien before she could strike? How could she keep Emily safe without telling her about the curse?
Maggie passed Alan, who was checking himself in a backstage mirror, dabbing extra spirit gum on his fake gray beard and bushy eyebrows before sticking them on. “Hey, Alan. Have you seen Emily?”
Alan pointed back toward the dressing rooms. The door to the women’s dressing room was closed. There were almost no other women in the play, and she prayed that Emily hadn’t been left alone. There was no answer when Maggie knocked, so she burst open the door.
A red figure stood in the center of the dressing room, her long, white gloves dripping with blood.
CHAPTER
20
“MAGGIE! THANK GOODNESS you’re here,” the figure said. “I was checking to make sure I had enough fake blood, and I spilled it all over my gloves.”
Maggie breathed a sigh of relief. It was Emily. “I’ll see if we can find a fresh pair,” she said, carefully taking the gloves off one at a time. She sent a quick text to Clio, asking her to get a spare set from her aunt. She looked around the empty room. “Where are the other actresses?”
“Kawanna had a few pizzas delivered to the greenroom, so they went to grab a bite.” Emily flipped her veil up over her head, revealing deep-red lips, dark-rimmed eyes, and shadows dusted under her cheekbones. She looked eerie and not at all like the fresh-faced young mother Maggie had come to know. “I always get too nervous to eat before a show, and I was happy for a few minutes alone, anyway. It’s good to have some time to concentrate and get myself in character.”
“Cool.” Maggie knew she should give Emily her space, but she didn’t want to leave her alone. Not until she was sure Emily was safe for now. She scanned the room, looking for signs that Vivien had been there. At first glance, everything seemed ordinary. A long, black-tiled vanity ran along a mirrored wall, with simple folding chairs lined up along it. Gym bags and totes stuffed with the actors’ street clothes were shoved underneath. A rolling steel rack holding costumes for quick backstage changes was pushed near the door, and Maggie shuddered inwardly, remembering Vivien’s dressing room prison. She thought of the Night Queen’s secret nook in the basement and peeped behind the rack. No hidden shrine. Good.
There was a knock at the door, and Maggie jumped. She opened it to find Clio holding out a pair of long, white gloves. Rebecca and Tanya stood behind her. They shot her a questioning look, and Maggie gave them a quick nod to show that everything was all right. “Aunt Kawanna asked me to tell Emily that the curtain opens in ten minutes,” Clio said quietly.
“Okay, I’ll let her know,” Maggie said.
Clio’s voice dropped even lower. “We’ll be out here. Tanya’s going to check out the catwalk, and Rebecca and I will chill in the wings.”
Maggie shut the door and handed Emily the gloves. “Ten minutes,” she said.
Emily looked at the clock on the wall and took a deep breath. “Oh, wow. The time sure went fast.” She rubbed her hands together nervously. “This is m
y first play since Juniper was born. I hope I still know what I’m doing.”
“Are you kidding?” Maggie asked. “I saw you in rehearsals and you were amazing. I’ve learned so much just by watching you.”
Emily smiled gratefully and pulled on the gloves. “I just want everything to go smoothly, you know?”
“I’m sure it will,” Maggie said, hoping she spoke the truth. She wished she could warn Emily somehow, but the actress was already anxious enough. And what would Maggie say, anyway? Oh, by the way, break a leg, and try not to get killed by any angry ghoul women tonight! That wouldn’t exactly go over well ten minutes to curtain.
Emily checked her face in the mirror and applied a fresh coat of lipstick before reapplying her veil. That’s when Maggie noticed the bouquet. Red roses in a tall, jet-black vase. Maggie knew exactly where she had seen that vase before. “Who sent you these?” she asked.
Emily glanced over. “I don’t know, actually. I’ve been so busy I haven’t had a chance to read the card.”
Just then, the dressing room door opened and an actress wearing a ragged dress and wild, black wig swept in. Maggie recognized her as Helen, the retired zookeeper, who was playing one of the witches. “It’s time, Emily. All actors need to be in the wings.” She turned around and swept out again, practicing her witchy cackle.
Emily stood up. “Well, I’m off.” She smiled at Maggie. “Whatever you do, don’t wish me luck!”
Maggie laughed. “I promise I won’t.” She knew that theater superstition considered Good luck to be one of the unluckiest phrases an actor could ever hear. “Break a leg.” Emily blew her a kiss and left in a swirl of nervous energy.
Maggie turned back to the bouquet and picked up the card with a sense of trepidation. She slipped it out of the envelope, already recognizing the red edging along the heavy, cream card. There was no signature, but the words were written in the familiar elegant scrawl: Good luck tonight. Always treat each performance as if it were your last.