by Carol Oates
The unrelenting ticking of the dinner clock on the mantle eroded the minutes and seconds we had left before Zeal’s cars came to take us to our destination. It reminded me of a beetle, a woodborer, which got into old buildings sometimes. The female emitted a clicking sound to attract a mate and then her larva would grow in the old, damaged wood. People used to believe that because the beetle was mostly attracted to decay that it had an ability to predict death. They thought the ticking was it counting down to the moment of passing. They called it the Death Watch Beetle.
I decided caffeine was probably a bad idea just at the moment I heard footfalls, the ruffling of fabric, and the dull scraping of a key card inserted in a lock.
“Amanda?” I called out of habit. I already knew the answer. This evening other fragrances accompanied her usual scent—makeup, hair product, and perfume with notes of cocoa.
“Don’t come out yet,” she warned quickly, unable to hide her excitement. “I want you to get the full effect.”
I smiled and touched my hair self-consciously. Applying styling product for once was unavoidable since my usual tousled style didn’t quite fit the formal attire. My dark red hair sat neatly combed away from my face with a side parting.
“There,” Amanda whispered, more to herself than me. Then she was in front of me, gliding through the door to the lounge and stopping by the marble fireplace. Her breath caught.
“Caveman, you do scrub up well.”
Time seemed to stop as I took her in. She’d been breathtaking at our wedding in a simple, silk gown with a deep cowl at the back. My entire hand had pressed against her warm, bare skin during our first dance. I had murmured my suspicions she was trying to torture me, and Amanda confirmed it with a smile.
In the weeks following our vows to each other, Amanda had gone from girl to woman before my eyes. The strapless black lace over gold satin dress created new curves, nipping in at her tiny waist and skimming over her hips before draping to the floor. It was a little longer at the back and swished at her heels when she turned around slowly, a sensual smile on her pale lips. Heels added inches to her height, creating a long, graceful silhouette.
Although I couldn’t see her whole face behind the mask, it revealed enough for me to notice how Amanda’s face had changed, become a little thinner, her cheekbones more defined now. There was a sharpness to her jawline, emphasizing her long, slim neck. Her dewy skin caught the light and gleamed with a golden luster.
Sweeping hints of gold and black lines traced against her eyelashes and extended out, catlike. Those eyes had seen more than any human should, and I thought I might glimpse the depth of her soul if I stared long enough. Through them she blazed with passion and strength. No longer a girl, Amanda radiated confidence in her ability, her choices, and her future. A bright spark in an otherwise colorless world.
“Say something,” she laughed lightly, shattering my trance.
I blinked and shook my head. I swallowed and licked my lips. My heart had burst back to life with a vengeance and savagely thundered.
Amanda laughed again and sashayed toward me. The movement of her hips roused a need in me, a coiled snake of maddening desire twisting though my body. How could I possibly be this lucky? Something had to go wrong tonight or tomorrow because having Amanda want to stand beside me, to fight with me, love me, be my partner through this chaos of a world—it seemed like too much good fortune for one person.
“Ben?” Her head tilted to one side just a bit.
I realized I still hadn’t spoken.
“You’d make Danu herself jealous. You’re radiant.”
“Well I can’t take all the credit, considering Emma did my makeup and hair. But, a goddess, well that is high praise.” A delicate pink flushed her cheeks.
“I mean it,” I insisted.
She stepped back, her pupils dilating when I stepped nearer, unwilling to allow any space between us. Her gaze flickered to my mouth briefly but it was enough to ignite the embers of passion smoldering under my skin to a raging heat. A dry ache scorched my throat.
“I feel like I’ve been plucked and stuffed. There’s no way I’d have fit into this thing if Carmel hadn’t been able to adjust the bodice.” She broke eye contact to look at the dress and glided her hands downward over her hips innocently. Amanda lifted her eyes to peer up at me from under thick curling eyelashes.
She’s playing with fire! I really didn’t want to mess her up after she’d spent hours preparing, but damn it, my fingers twitched by my side in the effort to hold back.
“I wasn’t sure about the sweetheart neck line,” she mused softly, pouting just a little. The backs of her scarlet fingernails grazed along the neckline of the dress to where it dipped and the corset pushed up her breasts.
“Are you trying to kill me?” It came out as growl and rumbled through my chest.
Amanda’s expression shifted in the blink of an eye, and her posture stiffened as though she was bracing herself. She spun away before my words registered.
“I didn’t mean—”
“No.” She straightened and took a deep breath, keeping her back to me but slipping off her mask. “It’s my fault. It’s foolish to enjoy dressing up for a ball when I know what’s coming. This isn’t a party. It’s a wake.” Something in her had deflated briefly, some of her bravado gone until she rolled her shoulders back and turned to me. “It’s just I’ve always wanted to go to one of these, and I got a little caught up.”
I placed my hands on her arms, running my thumbs back and forth. A moment ago, even this chaste contact would have led to more, but right now I just wanted to comfort her. “It’s not foolish.”
She grimaced ready to protest.
“It’s not,” I insisted, giving her my best lopsided grin. “It just shows that evil man hasn’t bled the hope out of us yet.”
She regarded me dubiously for a moment before she frowned. “Seth tried to kill Triona on prom night. What is it about these mad men and formal wear?”
I chuckled and stood back, giving her an appraising look. “It could be something to do with the lack of concealed weapons, because you aren’t going to be hiding much in that dress.”
Amanda smirked, and one shaped eyebrow quirked up. “Not much, but something,” she said, her confidence firmly back in place.
My eyebrows drew together in confusion.
Without another word, Amanda moved over toward the small two-seater couch. She flashed a mischievous glance over her shoulder, dipping her head and pressing her lips together. Blood rushed to the plump flesh when she released them, darkening her pale lipstick for an instant. I was right back to wanting to touch her.
My foot moved forward.
“Don’t even think it, caveman,” she warned with a breathy laugh. “You stay right there.”
She laid her mask on the seat cushion, and raised the front of her dress over her ankle. She then perched one foot on the edge of the same seat. Perspiration began to gather at my hairline as she pinched a slip of the gold fabric and lace overlay, drawing it farther up over the creamy golden skin of her tensed calf.
I held my breath when the fabric reached her knee, and she released one hand, batting her eyelashes demurely. I had no idea when Amanda had learned to flirt and tease so expertly, but I wasn’t about to complain…well, maybe just a little. She’d drive me crazy with this newfound ability.
Amanda’s free hand slid over her knee and continued upward, bunching the fabric to reveal a sheathed dagger strapped to the outer side of her thigh. The tip just reached her knee. My eyes widen in astonishment at the decorative hilt, twisting thorny vines intricately engraved in the silver colored metal. The design carried down the dark leather sheath.
“This is the Druid Blade.”
Except for Merlin, we gathered in the lobby, where old world met new in the decor. Recessed spotlights shone down from coved ceilings onto marble columns, polished wood floors, gilt mirrors, and gilt framed paintings from the Late Baroque era. These were elabora
tely detailed and complex images, many with religious influence. The furniture consisted of upholstered wingback chairs and dark polished tables with curved legs. Black and white wallpaper with a simple repeating flower design gave another modern touch with a hint of the past.
Our surroundings reflected our small group—the past intermingling with the present and working together. We were quite a sight with each man wearing our custom suits with swords mostly concealed by our sides and the women, stunning in an array of ostentatious gowns. Guinevere’s gown had a black corset laced down the back with cream ribbon. Long strips of the same color overlapped from above her hips and parted when she moved revealing leather pants beneath and Excalibur strapped to her side.
Emma was right about “rocking the red.” She looked beautiful having dyed her hair raven black. She had piled it on her head with tiny red and rhinestone pins fixing it in place. Multiple layers of gauzy flowing fabric swished from a sash below her bust line when she moved, and small sleeves covered her shoulders. The quiver at her waist far from distracted from the look, instead it made her seem like a medieval princess. She gained several admiring glances from passing men—after work drinkers heading to or coming from the hotel bar. John had told her to stay close to me. I experienced a brotherly protectiveness toward her and a need to issue warning glances.
After a few of these, she nudged me with her elbow. “Hey, I don’t mind the younger guys admiring.”
Before I had a chance to tell her that her brother might, Carmel gasped low, and Caleb threw his head back and laughed. We turned simultaneously in the direction they were looking. I almost choked on my next breath. Two tourists checking in with their baggage stepped out of the way as Merlin emerged from the elevator looking like a wizard from a kid’s fantasy movie. He dipped his head in acknowledgment as he passed the shocked couple with Archú by his side. Someone had paid a decent amount of money to the hotel for them to allow the giant beast past the door. Either that or someone had used some subtle manipulation of the manager.
The corner of Merlin’s lips turned up under his long nosed mask and gold cone-shaped hat. The metallic looking cone was inlaid with symbols of crescents, lines and swirls like the online images carved into the kerbstones at Knowth and the scars on his face. In place of a tuxedo, he wore purple robes draping to the floor. Rich embroidery covered the fabric, patterns of shimmering purple, gold, and green thread reflecting the symbols on the cone.
If Zeal had done this to irritate Merlin, to throw him off his game. It didn’t work. Merlin, with his cane in hand, strutted from the elevator with flare befitting his eye-catching outfit. He approached us, arms spread wide as though he planned to embrace us all.
“Come, come.” He ushered us toward the door. “We must not keep our host waiting.”
A caravan of sleek, black limousines parked along the side of the pavement at the end of a red carpet outside the main door of the hotel. The street was still busy with traffic, and several pedestrians paused to watch as the driver of each car stepped out to hold the door, and we took turns climbing in. Amanda, Emma, and I took the third car.
“For you.” Emma handed Amanda an extra quiver she had carried to the car.
“Thanks.” Amanda took the quiver and set it aside.
“This is bizarre,” Emma commented. She held up one of the individual bottles of champagne from the long bar opposite the sumptuous curved leather seats. “It’s like he really wants us to treat this as a party.”
I snatched the bottle from her hand and slipped it back into the cup chiller. “He wants us to lose focus.”
“That’d be difficult when I’m not even sure what we are focusing on.”
I sighed, unsure myself. “We need to keep an eye on him and wait for an opportunity to expose his plans. Zeal doesn’t care about any of these people standing by his side. All he cares about is power. We have to show them that.”
“And if we can’t?” she prompted.
“Then we burn down his house of cards right in front of him.”
Chapter 34
The Masks We Wear
OUTSIDE THE TINTED WINDOWS of the car, daylight diminished as we drove out of the city, first along the River Liffey and then south along the coast before rejoining a highway for a while. Eventually we turned off and traveled along tree-lined, winding roads where ivy crept over old stone walls. It almost seemed as if we’d journeyed back in time. I’d begun to wonder if we would drive around all night when we passed through the square of a small postcard-perfect country village. At the center of the village square, basins of flowers surrounded a clock tower. Farther out we passed whitewashed cottages and a traditional pub with a thatched roof before coming to a massive set of iron gates. I presumed this was our destination.
We turned onto a long avenue shrouded by tall ash trees on either side. The pale green, feathery leaves had begun to emerge, but the spindly branches against the navy blanket of the night sky still gave off a creepy vibe. Almost like gnarled fingers twisting over our heads, locking us inside the estate.
“They say if you sleep with an ash leaf beneath your pillow, you’ll dream of the future.” Emma peered up through the rolled down window, her fingertips curled over the smoky glass.
“That would come in handy right now,” Amanda mused, her jaw tight.
I stroked my fingers down her cheek and watched her relax with my touch. She tilted her head and kissed my fingers lightly. Her lips curved up, hinting at a smile.
“I don’t know that seeing the future is all it’s cracked up to be.” I leaned in to whisper. Now wasn’t the time to revisit the experience of losing my family, and yet I heard the giggles of the kids I would probably never know as they sat around the breakfast table.
“We’re here,” Emma said. “Why would he choose this place? We must be at least forty miles southeast of Knowth, possibly more.”
Amanda did a double take. “How did you do that?”
Emma shrugged. “I’ve always had excellent spatial awareness. I guess that’s why I’m good with targets.”
“He wants us as far away from Knowth as possible. He can get there faster than we can,” I said.
We each slipped on our masks before a jester in a short jacket with puffed up sleeves and striped tight pants opened the door. His small, almost weedy stature and slumped posture gave him away as human. He stood to the side as we climbed out into the cool night air. I refastened my sword belt, having removed it for the car ride. Both Emma and Amanda tied their quivers around their waists.
The house itself wasn’t what I expected. Glass and black metal lanterns hung from poles stabbed into the ground, and they cast an orange glow over the gray mansion. It appeared to consist of a main three-story house with smaller, two-story, annexed buildings on either side. Small Georgian sash windows fronted all three buildings, the smallest windows at the top floor. On the outer edge of the structure, arched wooden entrance gates remained closed.
A different masked jester ushered us along a red carpet as the next car pulled to the entrance.
“They’re all human,” Emma murmured as we passed yet more servers. These were female and scantily attired in sheer whispers of fabrics barely covering their modesty. Where their flesh was exposed, elaborate designs of swirling shapes and flames snaked over their skin. The painted patterns accentuated jewels pasted to their skin and dotted through their hair, mostly piled high in curls with tendrils falling loose down their bare backs. They wore plain gold masks covering their entire face.
Gooseflesh rose on my forearms. The overall effect was eerie, as though someone intended to strip them of their individual identities, leaving faceless, voiceless automatons in their place.
However, even uniform perfume couldn’t mask their distinctly human scent. It was different from Guardians when I paid attention. There was something more animal, a deeper musk in the natural scent of Guardians.
The red carpet continued through a large entrance hallway where stag heads adorned th
e four walls, their beady eyes studying us. The servants were leading us toward the lilting chords of string music floating from the back of the mansion. We followed the path set out for us under the low molded ceilings of the entrance hall through the center of three arched doorways to a second hall. This one was almost an exact reflection of the first, except instead of three wood doors, three floor to ceiling arched glass doorways opened into the garden.
Both Amanda and Emma caught their breath at the spectacle before us. At least two hundred people gathered on the terraces of a colorful Italian garden to the rear of the house. Masked guests mingled under lantern light with servant girls carrying trays of golden liquid in crystal flutes and delicate morsels of food. Stilt walkers, fire breathers, and jugglers entertained the gathering and ribbons tied around tall poles rippled in the light breeze. Sculptures and sloping steps led down to a huge fountain beyond a lawn with geometric flowerbeds. It was too early in the year for such a rainbow display. Had they been planted especially for the occasion? At the center of the fountain, Poseidon raised his trident in battle with a multi-headed sea serpent. Water sprayed from Poseidon’s mouth, shooting high into the air and splashing down on the serpent. The entire thing was illuminated by a blue light emerging from underwater.
The string orchestra had set up to the side of the top terrace, but the music seemed to emanate from every direction, though there were no obvious signs of speakers.
“He knows how to throw a party.” Emma’s voice was low and breathy, coming from her lips in barely visible puffs of vapor that quickly dissipated into the night.
“It’s a hall of mirrors,” Caleb responded from behind us. His expression remained guarded. Any of the people around us could be spies.
Lack of cloud cover meant the night grew colder quickly, and I understood the cloaks provided with our costumes. If the serving girls in their scanty outfits noticed, they didn’t make it obvious. I refrained from examining their exposed limbs for gooseflesh.