Heirs of Avalon

by Alica Mckenna Johnson

  I nodded. I would wear it if I could remember how to put it on.

  “Yes, and she looks so lovely in it,” Anali said. “It’s the same shade of green as her eyes with gold beading. I’m going to wear dark blue with silver embroidery.”

  “What about you, Uncle Gavin?” I asked.

  “I think I’m wearing a black tunic with gray embroidery along the front. Right dear?”

  “Yes, the bride and groom are dressing in dark red and cream, so that’ll be perfect.” Anali turned to me. “I hope you’ll have fun.”

  “I’m sure I will. Uncle Gavin can always entertain me while you catch up with family.”

  “Keep the riffraff away from her is more like it,” he muttered. “Are you going to the hen party?”

  “You make it sound like some party with drinking and strippers, and yes, I am going,” Anali said.

  “What will you do?” I asked. It was good to see Anali feeling well enough to tease and laugh.

  “Oh, it’ll be so much fun. We will paint my cousin’s hands and feet with henna. As long as the henna stains her hands, she doesn’t have to do any house work, so it’s a very important ceremony.”

  “Then come the strippers,” teased Gavin.

  “Then,” she said, arching a thick dark eyebrow. “Those of us who are married complain about our husband and bemoan what poor matches we made and hope the new bride has better luck.”

  “I’m sorry, Anali.” Gavin patted her leg. “I hope you won’t be too sad that you have nothing to talk about.”

  “You are so kind to worry about me, sweetums,” she crooned. “But don’t worry. I have plenty to talk about.”

  Gavin sniffed. “I can’t imagine even one moment where I have been less than the perfect husband.”

  The car turned down an unmarked gravel lane. Small lanterns glowed at the base of each towering weeping willow tree. The bare gray branches swayed in the wind. “Oh, this looks like the perfect start to a horror movie,” Anali said.

  “Anali, knock on something,” I said. “Knock on the wood paneling. Quick.”

  She knocked on the door her bracelets jingling. “Better?”

  “Yes, thank you,” I said, knocking on the side of the car. Better to be safe than sorry.

  After half a mile the driveway opened up to reveal Pressyne Manor. Gray ivy covered stone walls topped with pointed spires and gargoyles loomed above us. The windows glowed yellow in the dark night. I tried to think of them as inviting, but they felt more like creepy eyes. We drove around a marble fountain in the center of the circular drive. Two beautiful mermaids stood with their backs to each other, and their arms reached to the sky. Water flowed down their marble bodies and dripped off their tails into the pool.

  The car stopped, and a woman and a man in black slacks and short white coats rushed to our car to open our doors and help us out. The fabric of my dress twisted around my legs, and I held on to the woman’s hand, focusing on getting out of the car without falling over. Success.

  Gavin held out his arms to Anali and me, and we walked up the stairs where massive wooden doors opened before we even touched them. I let go of Gavin so he could hand the invitation to the very fancy looking bouncer.

  “Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Marsh and Miss Rayner.” He handed us square booklets. “Inside you will find a list of all the items for auction along with a list of the different entertainments that have been provided for your enjoyment. If you have any questions, please ask any of the staff.”

  We stepped into a cavernous entrance way. Parquet floors reflected the light from a crystal chandelier. The walls were painted a pale turquoise and gold framed paintings of mythical ocean creatures hung on the walls. We gave our coats to the coat girl, and stepped to the side.

  I flipped through the booklet’s rich, thick pages. The first few touted the charity, The Marine Conservation Society, and all the good work they do. Then the auction items—gross who wanted to buy a chamber pot even if it was antique? Next a map of the grounds and a list of the different acts. I scanned it until I found, Cirque du Feu Magique aerial silks at 18:45. “Gavin, what time is it?”

  “Six-twenty,” he said.

  I did a quick calculation in my head. “Okay, I should be able to find him by then.”

  “You’ve seen his act before,” Anali said. “Don’t you want to see something new?”

  “I want to see the balloons.” I looked at the map, they were at spot four which was outside in a tent. “Where are you two going?”

  “I’m not sure, Anali?” Gavin asked.

  “I think I would like to see the silent auction items. You have your phone on you?”

  “Yes, Anali. I’ll see you guys later.”

  “Oh, let me know if you see something you want in the auction. You have to be an adult to bid,” Gavin said before I rushed off.

  I had stepped into a Cinderella movie. Bejeweled women in sinfully extravagant dresses smiled at men in fitted tuxedos, chatting about a variety of boring socially acceptable subjects. The nasal British accent that flowed around me sounded all proper, but they couldn’t hide their feelings from me. Lust, anger, envy, and greed slithered around my empathic bubble.

  The wealthy were not any happier than any other group of people. Laughter echoed over the marble, and I turned into a room where some of the auction items were. I froze. Holy crap. The royal family, and was that—? I held in a fan-girl squee; he was even more beautiful in person. How did Gavin get invited to a party with the royal family and movie stars?

  I felt dizzy from the wealth that surrounded me and famous people within it. How did I wind up here? I didn’t belong here. Taking a deep breath, I straightened my shoulders and faked that I belonged here. At least my dress belonged here.

  As I moved through the crowd I noticed other familiar faces. I assumed I’d seen them on TV, in movies, or the news. I did my best to not stare like some bumbling idiot. Stepping out onto the porch, I followed the lanterns to the large white tent. It was funny—we always performed inside theaters but never in a circus tent. Inside, chairs were set up in a semi-circle around a stage. Waiters in white jackets served glasses of champagne and fancy little hors d'oeuvre that looked too pretty to eat.

  I smoothed the back of my skirt as I sat down— some habit an old foster mom drilled into me. The house lights dimmed as the stage lights came on. The people around me whispered, their clothes rustling as they settled in to watch. Michael walked onto the stage. “Good evening, ladies and gentleman. Thank you for allowing us to entertain you tonight. I have a treat for you, a magical creature who will amaze you with his strength and beauty, and perhaps the poetry of his motions will make you think that he is the reincarnation of his name sake. I give you Taliesin.”

  A sweeping bow, and Michael moved aside as the two men, who balanced the Russian poles, held ropes attached to a bunch of large silver weather balloons. Hanging beneath them looked like a white silk cocoon. Harp music and a woman’s voice wordlessly singing filled the tent as the men began to release some rope and the balloons rose into the air. When had Taliesin created this piece? I held my breath along with everyone else, my excitement bubbling inside of me while the crowds bubbled along my shields. The men holding the ropes walked further away from each other as the balloons reached the ceiling of the tent.

  For a moment the cocoon hung in the air. A foot emerged, then an arm and the white silk fluttered towards the floor. Taliesin’s costume was bright, circles within circles and crescent moon shapes, all in purples, blues, and greens. He moved so slowly, stretching his body, curling into the silk, and floating through the air. Taliesin owned the audience. I felt it—our breath was synced to his amazing feats. The tent was filled with amazement, desire, and awe. My fingers trembled with the intensity of emotion, but I couldn’t look away from Taliesin—not even to strengthen my empathic bubble and protect myself.

  Taliesin fluttered in a circle, and the silk flowed behind him like wings. I am so stupid. A butterfly: the marking
s on this bodysuit were of a butterfly emerging from his cocoon and exploring the world.

  The music forced my heart to follow it, becoming louder and faster. Taliesin twisted into the silk and spun in a circle. My heart stopped as he began to tip upside down, then fell rolling towards the floor. My hands flew to my mouth and I gasped. He stopped inches above the hard wooden stage. I had seen him do that move hundreds of times, and yet I was completely enraptured.

  Taliesin bowed low. We burst into applause, standing up while he made several swooping bows.

  Michael came onto the stage. “I told you, Taliesin is poetry. In ten minutes we have three jugglers who will be performing to delight and amaze you.”

  The stage lights dimmed and the house lights brightened. Several people pressed forward, stopping Taliesin before he escaped backstage. He smiled and answered their questions. I thought about joining his fans. I wanted to tell Taliesin how much I’d enjoyed his performance, but between the crowd leaving, new people coming in, and those gathered around Taliesin growing, I decided to slip away. Standing on tip toe, I waved hoping to catch his attention but a crowd of bejeweled elite held his focus.

  * * *

  I wandered through the different rooms admiring the art, outfits, and entertainment. In one of the ballrooms—seriously, I’d have to check the map they provided to figure out where I was at this point—I watched couples dancing. Not cool club dancing, or pathetic school dance dancing, but elegant, regal ballroom dancing.

  Couples glided across the parquet ballroom floor. A flash of red hair caught my eye. I watched as Gavin led Anali across the parquet. Their smiles were infectious. After days of being ill, Anali’s cheeks were a healthy pink, and she seemed to glow.

  “Excuse me, miss,” said a middle aged man. He was a little taller than me with thinning brown hair and a charming smile. I couldn’t help but relax and smile back. Something about him put me at ease. “I do hope I’m not being too forward as we haven’t been properly introduced. My name is Quintin Monroe. I noticed you were watching the dancers. If I’m not being too presumptuous, would you like to dance?”

  He held out his hand. I smiled and placed my hand in his. “Sapphire Rayner, and I would love to dance. I have to warn you that I have never waltzed before.”

  “Then you are most fortunate, as I am an excellent dancer,” he said as he held me out onto the floor. “Put your left hand on my shoulder and your right stays in mine.” He placed his hand on my waist. “Now look at me and let me lead you.”

  I opened my empathy up a bit, yes I cheated so I wouldn’t look like an idiot. We seemed to glide across the polished floor, my dress swirled around my legs without tripping me up.

  “Are you sure you haven’t waltzed before?”

  “I guess, Mr. Monroe, that you are indeed a very good dancer.”

  He smiled, his round cheeks pinking. “That is true, but your natural grace does help.”

  I laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever thought of myself as graceful before, thank you.”

  “How were you forced into coming here?” Mr. Monroe asked.

  “My Uncle Gavin received an invitation. And you?”

  “I am on the board for the Marine Conservation Society. So I’m here to schmooze and liberate as much money as I can from this lot. You think dancing with me is fun, just wait until you hear my riveting speech during dinner.”

  “And here I thought the night was going to be boring.”

  “Oh, no. I brought pictures of baby seals.”

  I missed a step because I was laughing, but Mr. Monroe kept me from falling.

  “So are you visiting London or did you move here?”

  “Just visiting, we’re leaving after the New Year,” I said.

  “Not the nicest time of year to come here. London is so gray and bleak in the winter.”

  “It’s still beautiful—all the old building and the holiday lights. Anyway, I’ve never been here before so I don’t know the difference.”

  “I guess ignorance really is bliss,” he said with a grin.

  I gasped as a couple moved past us, their hatred piercing and freezing cold. They looked lovely, but they danced without looking at each other. I shivered as Mr. Monroe moved us away from them. I tried to relax as and focus on how I needed to move for the waltz. Wait, my eyes widened. I stared into Mr. Monroe’s hazel eyes. I couldn’t feel him! Why couldn’t I feel him?

  Mr. Monroe winked at me.

  My breath caught.

  “There you are Quintin,” said a woman in a gray-blue silk dress that moved around her like water.

  “Hello, Melusine. May I introduce Miss Sapphire Rayner. Miss Rayner, our hostess, Melusine,” Mr. Monroe said.

  I started to move my hand to shake hers but Mr. Monroe tightened his grip.

  “I am so sorry to interrupt, but I must steal Mr. Monroe. There are some people who have some questions before they loosen their grip on their wallets.”

  Mr. Monroe sighed, a twinkle in his eyes. “Well, my dear, it’s time for me to get to work. Thank you for a lovely dance.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Monroe, for risking your toes. I had a lovely time.” I watched them walk away. Melusine held onto Mr. Monroe’s arm, and her brown hair fell over his shoulder as she looked down to talk to him.

  What just happened? Who was he? I snagged a booklet as I walked out of the room flipping through it until I found Mr. Monroe’s picture, and a basic bio: college, marine biologist, on the board for five years, blah blah blah. That wasn’t helpful at all. I snagged some hors d'oeuvres from a passing tray. Biting into a half moon pastry, I moaned at the creamy mushroom filling. I needed a whole plate of these.

  I wonder if this is how ghosts feel, wandering around people who don’t see them, looking at things so odd you know you’re out of place. My fingers twitched as I looked at the vibrant tapestry of mermaids and seals lying in the waves, a group of ugly hunters sneaking up behind them. I wanted to touch it but didn’t, I could feel how old it was.

  My shoes clicked on the wood floor, where to next? Turning a corner, I heard singing and felt a little tug of magic. I followed it, my smile broadening. A miracle might happen tonight. A smaller ballroom held a younger group of London’s elite. They sat at tables chatting, and some were dancing as the Water Nymphs played.

  Ramsey’s wild curls fluttered around his face, but the rest of him looked respectable, his black jacket and waistcoat fit snugly around his chest and shoulders as he played his cello. His kilt looked new, the blue and green tartan with a thin line of red. His cousin Solange sang, beseeching her lover to return to her. I felt her and the violinist soaking in the energy of the crowd. The flutist danced and flirted, I could see Pan in him now. Murdock grinned the same dangerous grin that Ramsey flashed at me several times. The brothers looked a lot alike, but Murdock was stockier, kind of like a small bear.

  I slid through the crowd until I was near the stage. Unlike at the club, people weren’t pressed against the stage. The groups of admirers sat further back in comfort. I waited until the song ended, then stepped closer. “You wanted a miracle?”

  Ramsey’s head shot up and he choked on the water he was drinking.

  His brother smacked him on the back. “You okay there, Runt?”

  “Sapphire, what are you doing here?”

  “This is the fancy party my Uncle dragged me to.”

  And there was the evil sexy grin. My stomach fluttered. I’m sure it was because I was hungry.

  “Hen, this is brilliant.”

  “Time to play,” Murdock said.

  “Stay?” he asked, putting his bow on the strings.

  I nodded as a deep note vibrated from his cello which he held between his legs. He moved and I saw that same bit of tattoo on his thigh.

  I found a small table and watched Ramsey, and the others, careful to keep my shields up so the sirens couldn’t feed from me.

  * * *

  “You look amazing. I thought the little black dress was nice, but
this. . . I’m glad you sat too far away for me to see you, otherwise I would have stared at you all through the set and messed up on every song,” Ramsey said, sitting down. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”

  My face was so hot. Damn him for making me blush like this. “Well, now you’ll have keep me from being bored.”

  He looked at his watch. “I can do that for an hour. We can stay until it’s time for dinner, then we’ll leave by the servants’ exit in the back.”

  “Can you leave now, or do you need to finish up?” I looked where the two sirens were talking to a group of people.

  “I can go, I’m not very good at the networking thing. Anyway the Water Nymphs is their band. The other cellist left when his wife had a baby, and they asked me to join them. So I’m just along for the ride.”

  “Runt,” Murdock said. “Are you taking off?”

  “Yes. You?”

  “No, I have a few lasses who want to get to know me better.” He wiggled his eyebrows then turned to me. “I am sorry to leave you with Runt here when you are obviously worthy of a real man. See you back here in an hour and don’t forget what you promised me.”

  I shook my head as he walked off to his group of admirers.

  Ramsey groaned and stood up. “Ready?”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you mind going to the auction really quick?” he asked.

  “Not at all. I haven’t been yet.”

  “Brilliant. All of my friends, and Murdock made me promise to check on their items and bid on them if no one had yet.”

  “Why does he call you Runt?” I asked looking up at Ramsey, he had to be close to six feet tall.

  He sighed. “I’m slender like my mum and sisters, my da and brothers are broad.”

  “Oh. Well, you look nice enough to me and very handsome tonight.”

  “Such sweet words.” Ramsey pointed to an open set of large dark oak doors. “It’s in here.”

  I gasped. The map had said the auction was in the library, but I had imagined a small study with some books on the walls, not an actual library. The walls were nothing but books. Curling wrought iron staircases led to a walkway that ran along the walls and allowed access to even more books. Over the smell of food, wine, and perfumes floated the rich smell of old books. I wrapped my arms around myself to keep from rushing over and running my fingers over the cloth and leather spines.