Again Lady Crayford sighed, though it was a wistful rather than mournful sound. “Do you see now why you are the object of my envy, Lady Quent? It is not for what you have, but because there is so much that lies ahead of you! If you wish it, I believe you will one day find yourself to be a great lady—indeed, one of the greatest ladies in all of Altania.”
Ivy was shocked anew. This was an impossible notion to consider. Or at least, it should have been.
Before she could speak, Lady Crayford gently disengaged her arm.
“I must relinquish you now, Lady Quent. There are many waiting to speak with you. I will say but one more thing. That is, in the future, when you can command the attention of anyone in Invarel no matter how high they might be, I hope that you will still choose to cast your gaze down a bit and notice me from time to time.”
The viscountess smiled again. However, for a moment there was a look in her violet eyes that, to Ivy, seemed almost like a kind of regret. Then, before Ivy could wonder more, Lady Crayford turned to thread her way easily among the crowd that filled the gallery and was gone.
Now that Ivy was no longer so intimately engaged, a number of people hastily approached her. It was Lily who reached her first. Her cheeks were very bright.
“Ivy, it is all so marvelous!” she said, then lowered her voice to a false whisper. “Have you seen how many young men have come to speak to me and Rose? There are at least half a dozen for Rose, and twice as many for me, and each one is more handsome than the next. Sink me if I could fathom how to choose among them!”
Ivy could only smile, despite Lily’s continued habit of speaking like a pirate, and was happy to consider such a simple topic for a moment as choosing the best-looking young man. “Indeed, they are all very handsome,” she said.
“But I have yet to see Mr. Garritt,” Lily continued without drawing a breath. “Have you seen him anywhere?”
Ivy hesitated. She liked Mr. Garritt very much, and she doubted, for all the good-looking young men here tonight, that any could be considered more handsome than he. Yet even when they dwelled on Whitward Street, Mr. Garritt would not have been a suitable match for Lily. And now that their station had been elevated, and might become even higher still …
Yet those were unkind thoughts. Mr. Garritt was a friend, and Ivy wished only the best for him. Besides, once Lily saw the benefits that a young man of high standing could offer, her interest in Mr. Garritt would naturally recede. Until then, this was her night, and she should be able to speak to whomever she most wished.
She nodded across the gallery. “I saw him depart down the south corridor just a little while ago. I was hoping he wasn’t looking for a discreet way to depart the party.”
“Without speaking to me first?” Lily said as if this was the most scandalous suggestion. “I should think not! Knowing Mr. Garritt, he is simply looking for a quiet spot away from all these people to contemplate some bit of poetry.”
“I suppose you’re right at that,” Ivy said, smiling.
But Lily was already weaving her way across the gallery, moving faster than any young man who might have thought to come near her, and vanished from sight.
Now that Ivy was unengaged, there was nothing to prevent the sirs and lords and earls, the ladies and countesses, from approaching to speak with her. Yet, strangely, Ivy found she no longer minded. Why should she not speak with them all?
If you wish it, I believe you will one day find yourself to be a great lady—indeed, one of the greatest ladies in all of Altania.…
A warmth came over her, and the dazzling light of the party seemed to become even brighter yet, as Lady Quent smiled and in the most charming and gracious fashion greeted all who came to her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
QUICK, THIS WAY!” Dercy whispered as he pulled Eldyn by the hand down the corridor, away from the noises of music and conversation.
“Why are we going down here?” Eldyn whispered back, casting a worried glance over his shoulder.
“To find the real party, of course,” Dercy said, flashing a roguish grin. “Everyone knows the best amusements are to be found away from the main affair. There’s always a room where people who grow bored with a party gather to take part in more, let us say, engaging diversions.”
“I don’t think this is that sort of party,” Eldyn said with a frown.
“On the contrary, it’s precisely that sort of party. The more proper the affair, the more likely it is some people will have slipped away to seek out their own sorts of entertainments.”
Eldyn wanted to say that he didn’t have to slip away to be content, and that he had been enjoying the party greatly. Just at that moment a woman in a crisp gray dress appeared from around a corner ahead of them, a stack of linens in her arms. The linens blocked her face from their view—and kept the two young men from her view—but the knot of red hair atop her head was shot with gray, and Eldyn recognized her as the housekeeper, from his one prior visit here. Before he could think what to do, Dercy grabbed him and pulled him into the corner between a large cabinet and the wall.
“The shadows!” he hissed.
On instinct, Eldyn pulled a dark veil over the two of them—enough to obscure their shapes, but not so much as to result in a darkness that would look out of place. They held their breath, and the housekeeper passed them by without so much as a glance, disappearing in the direction of the party.
Dercy let out his breath, along with a fit of laughter. “Come on,” he said, pulling Eldyn from their hiding place and back down the corridor. He tried a door, but it was locked.
“How do you know which room you’re looking for?” Eldyn said.
“Oh, I’ll know.”
He tried another door, but it, too, was locked. Then he went to the one across the corridor from it and turned the knob. The door swung open.
“Here we are!” Dercy said triumphantly. “This is the place.”
Eldyn did not think it was appropriate behavior to go prowling about Lady Quent’s house. Before he could protest, Dercy gave a jerk on his arm, pulling him into the room and shutting the door behind them. The air grew suddenly dark, then brightened again as a sphere of pearlescent light appeared upon Dercy’s outstretched palm.
“What do you mean this is the place?” Eldyn said, looking around at the small sitting chamber. “There’s nobody here besides us.”
“Precisely,” Dercy said, stroking his blond beard in a devilish manner. “As I said, there’s always a room at a party where people go off to find more pleasurable diversions.”
With that he pulled Eldyn to him, and kissed him.
Eldyn was rather peeved by this revelation, but after a moment he could no longer pretend he did not like what Dercy was doing, and he returned the embrace as the silvery orb of light rose in the air above them. Others joined it, filling the room with soft luminescence.
Dercy looked up at the lights. “Very pretty,” he said. “As was the Miss Lockwells’ tableau. It was an enormous success, don’t you think?”
“As if you don’t know the reason for that!” Eldyn said with a laugh.
“I suppose I do,” Dercy said, flopping down into one of the chairs. “But it was actually surprisingly good to begin with. I find it hard to believe the Miss Lockwells devised it all themselves.”
“I don’t find it hard,” Eldyn said. “Lily—that is, the youngest Miss Lockwell—is very imaginative, and she has a fine sensibility. I know she reads plays a great deal.”
“Well, she’s clearly learned something from them. The staging was better than what you’d find at more than a few theaters on Durrow Street. It wasn’t difficult at all to make it nearly as good as a scene from a proper illusion play—just a little bit of light here and there was all it needed.”
Eldyn winced. He had felt just a little bit awful when Dercy whispered to him in the gallery just after the curtain fell, suggesting they add a few illusions to the tableau, but the temptation had proved impossible to resist. As Dercy ha
d said, the staging was already excellent, and at once Eldyn had seen how its effect could be heightened with only a small amount of light in hues of pearl, coral, and aquamarine.
Besides, they had made only the subtlest improvements. Their intent was not to make it into something it was not, but simply to enhance what the Miss Lockwells had already achieved. Given the gasps and applause that had gone through the gallery, and the expression upon Lily’s face, they had succeeded in that task, and any guilt Eldyn might have suffered was assuaged by a pleasure that he had done something to increase the happiness of the youngest Miss Lockwell, for whom he retained a fondness.
It had been good to see her and her sisters, particularly Lady Quent. Given her station, and the great demands upon her attention, he was flattered that she had taken a few minutes to greet him. They had reminisced fondly about the day he and Mr. Rafferdy had visited their house on Whitward Street and they read from the first act of Alitha and Antelidon.
There was only one peculiar thing about their conversation, and that was how, as they spoke, Eldyn had begun to discern a faint green light around her. At first he thought it was simply candlelight radiating off her dress of emerald satin. Only the more he paid attention, the more he thought it wasn’t from the gown that the green light emanated, but rather from her hands, her throat, and her face. He wondered if Dercy had seen it, and he asked so now.
“Oh, you noticed that, did you?” Dercy said, swinging a leg over the arm of the chair in a cavalier fashion.
“So you saw it as well?”
Dercy nodded. “A few times in the past I’ve seen a glow such as that around a woman I’ve passed on the street, but it was always a good deal fainter than that. The illumination around Lady Quent was very bright.”
“What does it mean?”
Dercy shrugged. “I haven’t any idea.”
“But why could we see it?”
“Why can I see the light around you or other Siltheri?”
Eldyn shook his head. “I can’t see light around illusionists, not like you do.”
“Are you so certain of that? Over time, many illusionists find they can do so—at least those who have a fine sensitivity to our natural light. All you have to do is try.”
Eldyn wasn’t so sure about that. All the same he gazed at the other young man, concentrating. Then he let out a gasp. For a fleeting moment, it had seemed as if a faint corona, like copper and gold flames, flickered around Dercy.
“Are you doing that?” he said.
“Doing what?” Dercy said. Then he sat up and raised an eyebrow. “You can see the light around me, can’t you?”
Eldyn hesitated, then nodded. “I’m not sure—I think so.”
“Well, if you’re not certain, come here and get a closer look.”
This was a suggestion Eldyn willingly took. He crossed the room to Dercy, who took his hand, pulling him downward into a kiss. Eldyn shut his eyes, but he could still see the coppery light. In fact, it was brighter now that he was blind to all other lights, and as if the flickering illumination was indeed from a fire, the most marvelous sort of warmth coursed through him.
A creaking noise sounded behind him.
Even as Eldyn realized what it was from, what was happening, a voice called out.
“Hello, are you in here, Mr. Garritt? Ivy said she saw you come down this way and—oh!”
Hastily Eldyn broke away from Dercy. However, when he turned around, he saw that he had been too slow. Lily Lockwell stood in the open doorway, her brown eyes wide in the pretty oval of her face. Her gaze went to Dercy in the chair, then returned to Eldyn, and the color drained from her cheeks.
“Miss Lily!” Eldyn exclaimed.
Slowly, she shook her head and took a step backward, still clutching the doorknob.
“No, please don’t go.” He reached a hand out toward her. “Lily—”
She clapped a hand to her mouth to stifle a sobbing sound, then spun around and fled back into the corridor, her white costume billowing like sea foam behind her. Eldyn took a staggering step toward the door, then halted. It was no use; he would never be able to catch her. Even if he did, what would he say to her? The warmth had drained from him, leaving a terrible coldness in his chest.
Behind him, Dercy let out a heavy sigh. “Well, I admit, I hadn’t expected that. I should have remembered to bolt the door. Only I hadn’t thought anyone would have a reason to come in here. Anyone besides us, that is. Well, it’s no matter.” He held out his hand. “We can continue our little play, for Miss Lily has run off.”
“No wonder she ran,” Eldyn said. His heart was working at a rapid pace, and it was difficult to draw a breath. “Who would not turn away in the greatest shock from such a sight as she saw? I dread whom she is speaking to even now of what she witnessed.”
Dercy scowled. “I certainly would rather she had not seen us, yet I doubt she will speak of it to anyone. You have told me she fancies you, does she not? Thus I am sure she would do nothing to cause you distress. Besides, you speak as if we were doing some awful thing.”
A shudder passed through Eldyn. “But it is awful, isn’t it? At least in the eyes of many people. You cannot deny that. And the Testament says it is—”
Dercy let out a snort. “Pray tell me, who cares what the Testament says? It is beyond me why anyone would think it is a reasonable thing to take instruction from a book that claims the stars are pinpricks in the black bowl of the sky and that milk gotten from a goat during a greatnight will curdle. What a lot of rubbish! Besides, you seemed to be enjoying what we were doing. You didn’t feel like you were up to something awful, did you?”
Eldyn could only speak the truth. “No, I didn’t. It was …” At last he was able to draw a breath. “It was wonderful, actually.”
Dercy’s sea green eyes shone. “There, do you see! You are better to trust to your senses rather than your brain.”
As usual, when Dercy was grinning at him, it was difficult for Eldyn to worry about how the Testament or society might view the things the two of them did together. Besides, it didn’t matter anyway. All that he had done in his life would be forgotten the moment he entered the Church. So why torment himself now?
He returned Dercy’s grin. “I suppose you’re right.”
“As I ever am. Now come here and let us finish the first act of our little play before we begin the next.”
Eldyn felt his fear recede. Dercy was right. It was regrettable that Lily Lockwell had witnessed them together, but he could not imagine she would ever speak of what she had seen. Indeed, more than likely she did not even comprehend what she had glimpsed. Reassured by these thoughts, he went to Dercy and bent down. However, Dercy pressed a finger to Eldyn’s lips.
“Are you certain you are not afraid of committing some awful sin?” he said, his tone gently mocking. “I know you are a favorite of the archdeacon’s, and I don’t want to cause any difficulty between you and your employer.”
“You have no worry there,” Eldyn said with a laugh. “For I have it from Archdeacon Lemarck directly that it is of no concern anything I might do before I enter the—”
Eldyn clamped his teeth down upon his tongue so hard a taste of metal filled his mouth, but the sacrifice of his blood was in vain.
“It is no concern what you do before you enter what?” Dercy said, his eyes narrowing.
“Before I enter Graychurch each day,” Eldyn said. However, even to him the words sounded lame.
Dercy leaped up from the chair. “Do not lie to me, Eldyn. You know that you have no aptitude for it. You mean to enter the priesthood, don’t you? That’s why you’ve been scrimping and saving like some miserly old crone. You have been saving for your portion to pay the Church.” He ran a hand through his blond hair, so it stood on end. “I should have realized it before. I knew you were up to something! Yet I never guessed it to be this.”
“It’s not what you think it is!” Eldyn blurted out.
“No, it’s precisely what I think,�
� Dercy said, and he prowled around Eldyn. “All this time you have been deceiving me—you have been deceiving all of us. It has never been your intention to be a member of our troupe at the Theater of the Moon. You’ve been using us to gain a bit of coin, that’s all. And if you could have a little amusement along the way at my expense, well so much the better. Then, as soon as you have the money you need, your intention is to avert your gaze from us like so much offal in the gutter while you stride through the doors of the cathedral.”
Eldyn’s eyes stung, and his cheeks were hot. “No, that’s not true!”
“I told you not to lie,” Dercy snapped.
Now some of Eldyn’s anguish was substituted with anger. “You chastise me for deceiving, you tell me not to lie,” he said bitterly. “Well, isn’t that all that illusions are? Lies made out of light? How am I supposed to build a future for myself and my sister upon that?”
“Illusions aren’t lies,” Dercy said. He gave his hand a flick, sending the glowing orbs spinning around the room so that they cast wild shadows. “They are not some unseen, unheard, formless notion that people slavishly mumble prayers to, or which they cite to excuse whatever awful acts they were going to do anyway. Illusions are something we can behold ourselves. Their beauty can illuminate even the darkest life.”
“But they’re not real!” Eldyn cried.
“And you think the Church is? Did you not hear anything that I told you of the priests at the church of St. Adaris?”
“Graychurch isn’t like that.”
“All churches are like that. The only difference is how big they are. I’m telling you, Eldyn, the priesthood isn’t what you think.”
Eldyn held a hand to his brow; it was throbbing. “No, you’re wrong, Dercy. I know what you told me about St. Adaris, but the archdeacon is a great man. He has given me a chance—one I could never even have imagined I would get—and I have to seize it.”
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