by Webb, Holly
Rose sighed. That would be easier, if she actually knew who she was.
‘Miss Fell, why doesn’t the duke just stop the ritual?’ Bella asked. ‘If it makes people dangerous?’
‘Stop a ritual that’s been passed down for centuries?’ Miss Fell raised her eyebrows. ‘There would be a revolution. It isn’t only the people in the palace, you know. He goes out to the piazza, and the whole city takes part. Besides, not everyone who is truly masked becomes dangerous. People simply become more – themselves.’ She sighed. ‘Or who they think they are. Which is why you cannot let Gossamer be there.’ She eyed Rose thoughtfully. ‘You need to take care, my dear. He has already sent those boys after you, and after you fought them off so easily he may decide to attack you himself.’
Rose blinked. It hadn’t seemed easy at the time. She could still remember the awful feel of the boy’s mask as she’d tried to tear it off.
Miss Fell leaned closer, staring at the little silk pocket hanging from the waistband of Rose’s dress. ‘You already have some sort of protection, don’t you? Did Aloysius cast it?’ She frowned. ‘Whatever it is, it’s very strong…’
Rose gazed at her blankly. She had no idea what the old lady was talking about.
‘The doll!’ Bella chirped proudly. ‘She means my doll. Well, it’s hers,’ she explained to Miss Fell, ‘but I gave it to her. For Christmas.’
Slowly, almost reluctantly, Rose drew out the little porcelain creature, and Miss Fell smiled admiringly. ‘All your own magic.’
‘It was an accident,’ Rose admitted. ‘She got mixed up in a spell, and I cut myself.’
‘Accidental spells are often the strongest. So it was a gift… And you keep it with you all the time?’ she asked sharply.
Rose nodded.
Miss Fell stretched out one finger, and stroked the shining brown-painted hair. Then she shook her head. ‘Look after her, Rose. I can’t give you anything stronger than your own little poppet.’ She stood up to leave, but then she hesitated, leaning heavily on her stick, as though she were feeling her age. ‘Rose. Did I hear the news right in my letters from home, that you came into apprenticeship with Aloysius by accident?’
Rose flinched. That was only a roundabout way to ask if it was true that Mr Fountain had dragged her out of an orphanage. But she nodded politely.
‘And you are not sure who your real family are?’
Rose smiled. It was a kind way of putting it – to suggest that her family were somewhere, waiting for her to come back to them. ‘I have no idea, ma’am,’ she replied quietly, refusing to be ashamed. Miss Fell had said she should be proud, and she would be. It was not her fault they had abandoned her, after all, at least she didn’t think it could be. Mr Fountain had assured her that she would have looked like a perfectly normal baby. But all the teasing in the kitchens had left its mark, and she had nursed Susan’s taunts aboutchangeling children made of wax and hair-clippings far too close inside.
Miss Fell stood staring at Rose, as though she weremeasuring every line of her face.
Rose tried not to feel self-conscious, but at last she could bear it no longer, and burst out, ‘Is there something wrong, ma’am?’
‘Not at all,’ Miss Fell snapped briskly, and eyed them all with a critical frown. ‘You have suitable clothes for tonight?’
Rose couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her dress, even with the way things were, it made her glow inside to think of wearing it.
She didn’t see the stricken look that flashed across Miss Fell’s eyes as she caught Rose’s smile. But Bella did, and she turned to look at Rose again, frowning a little.
Miss Fell nodded. ‘Good.’ She hesitated, for just a second. ‘You will all be careful?’ she asked quietly. ‘I know you defeated Gossamer once before, but the man is clearly willing to do anything. Stay together.’ She looked round at Freddie and Bill and Bella, and there was a pleading tone in her voice. Her last words were only under her breath, and Rose hardly heard them. ‘Please take care of her. So cruel to lose her again…’
That couldn’t be what the old lady had said – it made no sense – but Miss Fell was hobbling surprisingly fast to the door of the Gold Saloon, and Bill was showing her out.
Gus sneezed crossly. ‘You notice she still didn’t tell us what this dratted ritual is?’
The quayside around the duke’s palace was so thronged with gondolas, and even one amazingly gilded barge, that the little party was forced to disembark some way from the entrance. But this was no hardship. The waterside was busy with little knots of guests in the most elaborate clothes, laughing andshowing off their costumes, and they spilled over into the huge square in front of the cathedral. Crowds huddled around the edges of the square, the people of the city in just masks and cloaks over their everyday things, admiring the richer costumes of the aristocrats.
Several children darted about between the crowds, and Rose flinched as a boy in a mask flitted past her. But it wasn’t the boy from the alleyway, just a child playing tag with his friends.
Bill laid his hand on her arm. ‘You’re shaking.’
Rose turned to him, smiling apologetically beneath her mask. Her eyes glittered like the gems that surrounded it, and Bill stared. ‘You look more like a magician than ever with that thing on,’ he muttered. ‘Suits you though, I suppose.’
‘It frightens me,’ she whispered back, leaning against him to breathe into his ear. ‘Because I love it so. What if I start to love it too much, like the mask-maker said? If I want to wear it always, like Miss Fell told us?’ She was silent a moment. ‘Bill, if you think it’s becoming part of me, will you promise to take it off? Even if – even if you have to tear it away?’
Bill shifted uncomfortably. ‘Not if it means tearing your face, like you said with that boy. How could I? Besides,’ he added in a husky whisper, ‘you look pretty in it.’
‘I’d rather be dead than not be anything underneath it.’ But Rose was blushing behind the plaster mask.
‘It’s cold out here,’ Bella complained. ‘Can’t we go in?’ They had not brought cloaks, Lord Lynton explaining that the party would be a sad crush, and there would be nowhere to leave them. But there was a sharp wind blowing off the water. Rose was warmer than everyone else, as Gus was draped around her shoulders. He had glamoured himself flatter, so that he looked like a little fur tippet.
Lord Lynton, who had been admiring the dresses through his eyeglass, nodded and led them through the crowds to the palace entrance.
The marble-floored rooms that had seemed so huge were now not large enough for the crowds swirling and sparkling inside them. Branches of candles burned everywhere, and in the main ballroom hung an enormous chandelier, dripping with crystal droplets and golden glass flowers, the candles making stamens of living flame. The light reflected on the dancers’ silken skirts, and the satin coats of the men.
‘Oh,’ Rose breathed in delight, and then she gave herself a little shake. She must not forget that they were here to find Mr Fountain, who was most probably being kept shut up by Girolamo and Gossamer in some horrible dungeon over that strange crooked bridge. She was not here to dance, even though her feet itched to join the spinning patterns on the dance floor.
Lord Lynton had disappeared into the throng, and Rose could not see Miss Fell anywhere. But then, if there really were as many people here as there seemed to be, they might never see her all night.
‘Oh, I can’t just stand here!’ Bella cried. ‘We can’t gosearching yet, not while everyone’s still being polite.’ She seized Freddie’s hand, and ran with him into the gathering crowd. ‘Smile, Freddie, let’s dance.’
Rose sighed, watching them, and looked hopefully at Bill, but he shook his head firmly. ‘Manservant, remember? Like as not, they’d have me drowned for dancing. Find a gentleman, Rosie. That’s what you need now.’
‘I can’t just ask some stranger to dance!’ That wouldprobably be more shocking than dancing with Bill. But it did look such fun.
A draft blew in from the doorway, and the candles guttered for a moment. Rose shivered, and patted her shoulder in confusion. Where had her pretty fur gone?
She was staring at her sleeves, and hardly noticed when someone came to stand in front of her. Someone with warm, soft skin, who took her hand.
Rose looked up, and swallowed. Standing before her,dressed all in white, even down to slender white fur slippers, was a tall and handsome boy. He was masked, but his mask was made of glittering ice-white fur, and had the pointed ears of a cat. Silver wire made the whiskers, and it had diamond chips for teeth. The mask was half-covered by the hood of a short white fur cloak. It was a most effective costume, and several of the other guests were murmuring admiringly.
The boy bowed low to Rose, and held out one white-gloved hand in an unmistakeable invitation to dance. As she stared up at him, Rose noticed that the boy had one deep blue eye, and the other was a strange shade of tawny gold. And his tongue was pink and sharp and pointed, as he flicked it across his lips.
‘Gus?’ she whispered, as he whirled her into the dance. ‘You’re a boy? I didn’t know you could do that!’
‘You didn’t know I can skin a rat with my whiskers.’ Gus shrugged elegantly. ‘I can do a lot of things. And we may as well enjoy ourselves. We will only look suspicious if we lurk about being miserable.’ He smiled, the whiskers of the mask twitching. ‘Besides, I can smell the supper table. There is a lot of lobster, and I do not want to have to skulk under the table to eat it.’
Rose smiled, and closed her eyes as he spun her round and round the dance floor. It would be far too easy to forget their mission and simply keep on dancing.
The dancing had changed now – no more decorous pattern dances, but riotous, romping waltzes, the women’s skirts flaring out in a flurry of silk as their partners whirled them round the floor.
Rose stood watching by a delicate silver tree, a slender sapling that seemed to be made of living metal, its leaves adding a shimmering bell chime to the music. Little jewelled birds sung on its branches, but they were not real inside. She had checked, after the first horrified moment, when she had felt sick at the sight of them. Although that might have had something to do with the lobster, as she and Gus had eaten rather a lot of it, and she had followed it with ices.
Freddie and Bella appeared suddenly in front of her, spat out of the swirling dance, and stumbling slightly.
‘Still no sign of Gossamer?’ Bella murmured.
Rose shook her head. She had been looking so carefully at all the masks, searching for that strange mushroom-pale one she’d seen hanging from Gossamer’s hand. But most of the dancers had bright, beautifully painted creations.
‘It’s time, don’t you think? Late enough to go looking?’ Freddie asked. ‘Where are Gus and Bill?’
‘In the supper room. Bill thought no one would be in a fit state to mind, and Gus found they had been keeping back some lobsters. He says boys have bigger stomachs than cats, and he’s making the most of it.’
Gus sighed dramatically when they appeared, and eyed the half-dismembered lobster in front of him regretfully. ‘I suppose you want me to leave this behind?’ Standing up, with one hand protectively over his stomach, he ducked under the tablecloth. Freddie made to look underneath, but Bella pulled him back. The tablecloth billowed, and there was a prolonged and unpleasant retching sound, then Gus appeared, wriggling out from beneath the linen, and looking very small.
‘Are you all right?’ Rose asked, and he nodded, briskly licking a paw and sweeping it over his ears.
‘Oh, yes. Don’t worry. It was quite worth it. Where shall we start?’
‘Miss Fell was right.’ Rose gazed disgustedly after a party of revellers, who were reeling down the passageway. ‘They practically collapsed on us.’
‘Wait a minute! Did their masks look different to you?’ Bill stared after them as they staggered around the corner. ‘Sort of tighter?’
Bella nodded, giving Rose a slightly anxious look. ‘Don’t faint, Rose. But I think he’s right – those were the kind that don’t come off. They wrinkle like skin.’
Rose was frowning after them. ‘When we first came to see the duke, Girolamo had a group of people around him, and I’m sure they all had the masks that don’t come off. I remember that black-and-white diamond one, I’m almost sure…’
‘You think that lot are working for Jerry-whatsit?’ Bill asked. ‘And Gossamer?’
‘It’s as good a clue as any,’ Freddie agreed. ‘We haven’t found anything suspicious so far, and it feels like we’ve been over half the palace.’
Rose nodded, swallowing carefully. ‘They came up that flight of stairs over there.’
They moved over to the stairway, already starting to move in a cautious creeping sort of way, as if it would help.
‘Do you think this palace has eyes?’ Bella suddenlymurmured, as they walked slowly down the stairs.
Rose and Freddie glared at her, and Bill sniffed. Gus, who was leaping ahead, hissed. ‘Don’t even suggest it. How do you know it won’t take a fancy to the idea?’
Bella stared around her at the dark wood of the stairs. There were little faces carved among the garlands of leaves that swagged the banister, monkeys grinning with sharp teeth, foxes, a sly-eyed cat. It would take very little imagination for them to turn and follow the children as they went on down the steps. Mr Fountain’s house was full of odd quirks like that, so the palace was bound to be.
‘Stop thinking about it!’ Gus snapped at them, which was of course impossible. ‘Or at least go faster. There are no more of these dratted carvings once we get off the stairs, and I shouldn’t think they can uprootthemselves, horrible little things.’
The little wooden cat stretched and stared after himmalevolently.
‘Move!’
They skittered down the rest of the steps, their party finery swishing around them, and cannoned off the stairs into a flagged passageway, hung with tapestries. It smelled old, and the flagstones were worn smooth with thousands of footsteps.
‘Is this an ancient part of the palace?’ Rose whispered. She wasn’t sure she believed in ghosts, but if they were going to be anywhere, it would be here.
The passageway was long, and the doors that occasionally led off it all seemed to be locked. Most of the keyholes were ornate metal ones, snarling lion-faces, with very obvious teeth. Gus sniffed one, and shuddered. ‘Put the wrong key in, and it would have your hand off, I think.’
After that everyone drew into the middle of the passage, as far away from the doors as possible.
‘Is it just me, or does this passageway slope downwards?’ Freddie asked a while later. ‘It’s been going on for ages. We must get somewhere soon.’
‘I wouldn’t bet on it,’ Bill muttered, but then he rubbed his hands over his arms. ‘It’s getting colder, too. And damp.’ He pointed to the wall – the tapestries had run out some time ago, and there were dark, greenish streaks on the stone. ‘I reckon we’re heading for one of those underground canals, like at the embassy. Perhaps they all link up?’
‘Come and see!’ Gus had padded round a corner, and now they found themselves at an abrupt dead end, facing a solid-looking wooden door. In the middle, an even larger lion’s head held a massive iron ring in its mouth. The lion was smiling, in an inviting sort of way.
Rose and the others turned to look at Gus, who was sitting in front of the door looking small and thoughtful. ‘This is the water door. I can feel the stream flowing on the other side. And hear it. Just a quiet ripple, nothing more.’
‘I hope that’s not the kind of lion that bites fingers off,’ Rose said warily. ‘It looks quite friendly, and it isn’t as if we can put the wrong key in, you only have to turn the ring.’ She looked hopefully at Gus, remembering his abilities with door handles, but he shook his head.
‘That won’t work here.’
‘There’s some marks on the wood,’ Bill pointed out,crouching down to look. ‘Um. They could be blood…�
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Gus managed an expressive feline shrug. ‘They could be anything.’
‘I bet it only bites human fingers,’ Freddie suggested. ‘Could you swing on the ring?’
Gus gave him a disdainful look. ‘I am not a trained monkey from the circus.’ Then his ears twitched suddenly, and the fur rose up along his spine. ‘There’s someone coming!’
Freddie looked back along the corridor. ‘No, there isn’t.’
‘From the other side!’
They hustled back around the corner. ‘Is it just oneperson?’ Freddie demanded.
‘Sssh!’ Gus stood listening, his eyes closed, whiskerstrembling. ‘Yes,’ he said at last.
‘We could hide ourselves, with that spell Papa taught us,’ Bella suggested.
‘But then the door would still be closed.’ Rose took a deep breath. ‘If we grab whoever’s coming, before they shut the door, then we could get to the water. I’m sure we’re close to your father, Bella.’
‘What if it’s Gossamer coming?’ Freddie whispered.
‘Then we’re all dead, I should think.’ Gus shrugged again. ‘Stay here.’ As he strolled back round the corner, they could see him changing, his aristocratic white coat shading, till he became a striped brown tabby, its ribs showing through the rippled fur.
Rose peeped round the edge of the wall, and saw him sitting in front of the door, looking like the most unmagical alley cat, admittedly a very lost one. Then her heart thudded in panic as she saw the ring in the lion’s mouth start to turn, and she whipped back round the corner, flattening herself against the wall.
The door creaked – of course it would, Rose thought, listening to it groan, and trying not to shiver – and someone stepped through.
Gus mewed plaintively, and a surprised voice answered him – a boy’s voice, not Gossamer then.
Rose looked round at the others questioningly, and Freddie nodded. She was just readying herself to run round the corner, when the boy’s voice rose into a sudden howl of terror, and Freddie shoved her sideways and shot past her.