Unhonored

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Unhonored Page 3

by Tracy Hickman


  “It’s all for you, Ellis,” beamed Alicia. She took Ellis by her arm, drawing her into the blue room. “He did it all for you.”

  The crowd surged around her. The room was far too small for this number of people. Ellis felt the stifling closeness and a rising panic within her. Between the masked faces, overly elaborate headpieces, farcical hats and hairdos, she glimpsed open doorways that led to further rooms that seemed to be just as crowded and claustrophobic as the one she was in.

  Ellis turned, searching for the door through which they had just entered, but she was having difficulty seeing it through the press of people. She felt dizzy, disoriented, and her breaths were coming quickly. She closed her eyes, trying to push away the confusion and overwhelming colors surrounding her. Then, as if at her will, everything stilled.

  “Welcome home, Ellis.”

  Ellis’s eyes flew open, her head jerking toward the sound.

  “Merrick,” she said, her tone as much accusation as recognition.

  Merrick stood before her, beaming at her with a toothy, brilliant smile. His costume struck Ellis as that of a jester: a carefully fitted jacket with narrow matching pants, both of which displayed a symmetrical pattern of rectangles each made up of two opposing red triangles with green and blue triangles filling out the remaining sides. His gleaming white shoes were topped by ridiculously large balls made of the same material. Like Ellis, he, too, sported a ruff around his collar, although his was much smaller than hers. In his right hand he held an elaborate mask comprised of the features of three faces, each sharing the eye socket with the face to either side. In his left hand, he held a club-like object composed of two wooden slats bound tightly together at one end. Ellis took all of this in quickly and moved on in her mind. She knew that this plumage was just camouflage, bright colors and patterns meant to distract her.

  She concentrated instead on his face. It was a visage that she had come to know well since her arrival in Gamin. It was a painfully handsome face. His jawline had sharp and soft angles at once, obscured by the shadow of his heavy beard, which no amount of careful shaving could completely eradicate. He had a slightly aquiline nose that put Michelangelo’s David to shame. His unfashionably long hair was coiffed in a way that might have suggested a nonchalance to his appearance had he not so obviously taken such care in creating its look.

  Yet it was his eyes that finally caught her, as they always did. They were a striking light blue that even in his apparent current ferment held a hint of sadness and confusion. There was anticipation there, too, she thought, and she wondered for a moment if these were the same eyes the mouse looked into just before the cobra struck.

  In an instant, however, his countenance changed. His eyes became downcast, his brow troubled and his shoulders slightly bowed.

  “Yes, Ellis, it is me,” Merrick said in penitent tones. “And I fear that I have given you reason for pain in hearing my name.”

  A sigh of sympathy came from the masked faces crowding the room about them.

  “I was terribly concerned for you when you returned,” he continued, his gaze rising from the floor to gauge her reaction. “Down all the ages of our existence, no one had ever left. I had hoped to make your return easier, to create for you a space where perhaps you could gradually regain yourself.”

  “Is that what Gamin was all about?” Ellis said, her mouth dry at saying the words.

  “Mistakes were made.” Merrick nodded. “I’ll grant you that.”

  “Friends vanishing without a trace? Mass murder? Demonic monsters in the street?” Ellis’s eyes remained fixed on Merrick. “These were ‘mistakes’?”

  The masks uttered an audible gasp.

  “It was Dr. Carmichael,” Merrick replied after a moment’s hesitation. He straightened up, the old assurance that she always found suspicious reasserting itself. “I should’ve never taken his advice. Those manifestations were entirely his doing. I realize now that he never had your best interests at heart. But now that that terrible nightmare is over, I can properly welcome you home back among the friends and acquaintances who have so longed for your return—”

  “And where is Jenny?” Ellis demanded.

  “Jenny?” Merrick appeared annoyed that his speech had been interrupted.

  “Yes, my cousin Jenny,” Ellis reiterated, her voice stronger and more insistent.

  Merrick once again beamed a great smile and then began to laugh heartily. His arms opened wide as he gestured with a mask in one hand and the slapstick in the other, pivoting as though to encompass the entire company of grotesque masked revelers.

  “Why, Jenny is the game,” Merrick exclaimed. “We shall have a treasure hunt throughout the house! You all know Jenny March, Ellis’s cousin. She is our houseguest and the game is that she must be found.”

  Squeals of delight mingled with the murmur of excitement, and a smattering of clapping rippled from room to room among the partiers.

  Ellis spoke to Merrick through clenched teeth. “Where is she?”

  Merrick was nearly a full head taller than her, looking down at her in puzzlement. “But that’s the whole point of the game. Finding Jenny.”

  “You’ve hidden her somewhere,” Ellis said. She could feel the heat of her anger rising in her face. “Tell me where she is!”

  “I did no such thing!” Merrick seemed insulted at the suggestion. “She hid herself. It would be such a terrible game otherwise.”

  “Ellis,” Alicia said, her hand touching Ellis’s elbow. “It really should be a very good game. Don’t you think we could play? Perhaps, just for a little while?”

  “Everyone, please, I shall need your attention for a moment,” Merrick said, his voice booming over the murmuring of the crowd. “To begin the game, I have secured the assistance of the Nightbirds Society in preparing a theatrical offering, the libretto of which may assist you in your quest.”

  The excited response of the revelers threatened for a moment to overwhelm Merrick’s oration. He held up his hands to quiet the crowd once more.

  “Let us all move quickly into the theater,” Merrick roared, “and let the comedy begin!”

  Merrick swung around to Ellis’s left, his right hand closing on her upper arm in a viselike grip. On her right, Alicia had locked her arm through Ellis’s. Both of them at once began drawing Ellis through the crowd past the doorway into the green room and toward the orange room beyond. The laughing and excited masked figures around her were moving in that direction, too, forming an inexorable river of flesh and propelling her forward.

  Ellis swallowed hard. The crush of the masked costumes around her made her want to scream but she was determined to learn the rules of the game that everyone else was playing. She glanced at Merrick, trying to ask a question as casually as she could. “What is this comedy about?”

  Merrick gave a lopsided grin. “Truth, Ellis. Truth and the past.”

  Three sets of double doors were open on the far side of the orange room. The crowd was pouring through them into the darkness of the theater beyond.

  Ellis forced herself to take a deep breath. “And who is the principal character in this farce?”

  Merrick bared his teeth again. “Why, you are, of course!”

  4

  SHADOW PLAY

  As Ellis was ushered through the theater doors, the gaslights along the walls burst into light, illuminating the room. It was a dreadfully small space for a theater. There were only eight chairs across in each row with no center aisle. Indeed, she half expected there to be pews rather than the chairs, for the space reminded her more of a private chapel on an estate than a proper theater, despite the slanting angle of the floor toward the stage. Fresco panels adorned the arched ceiling depicting characters wearing both tragic and comedic masks in what appeared to be unsettling scenes. One depicted a child in the crib fitted with a mask of a wailing baby while a pair of figures in elegant costumes and masked as crows leaned over the child. Another showed a gate, overgrown with vines, brush and trees to
the point of it being nearly completely obscured. A third showed a comically small sailing ship tossed in a storm with the four hapless members of its crew all staring back at her through tragic masks. This last particularly caught her attention as she could make out the smallest figure of a lighthouse far in the background of the image. The edges of each fresco were heavily gilded in gold leaf or possibly paint. The stage at the front was narrow and tall, an arched proscenium filled entirely by a lush, red velvet curtain. The slight, bold thrust of the stage in front of the curtain was rimmed with footlights that illuminated the curtain. A matching set of short stairs gave access to the front of the stage from the aisles on either side of the main floor. There was a small balcony in the back that had already filled in its few seats with the costumed and masked audience. Still others in the balcony stood at its edges and crowded the exits. The revelers from the masquerade who rushed onto the main floor moved down either side, laughing and chattering as they, too, rushed for the few available seats. Despite the press, three chairs remained vacant in the center of the front row. It was toward these that Merrick and Alicia quickly guided Ellis.

  “Isn’t this wondrous, Ellis?” Alicia beamed as she guided Ellis toward the center open seat in the front row.

  “That would be one word for it,” Ellis responded, licking her lips.

  “We spared nothing in preparing this for you, Ellis,” Merrick said. “This is our gift to you for all you’ve done for us.”

  Ellis merely smiled politely as she sat down, the clown costume rustling slightly. She reminded herself to keep breathing.

  A figure in the caricature of a French officer’s uniform strutted onto the stage from the wings. He wore an oversized bicorne hat and a smiling mask of pallid blue with red streaks coming from the eye sockets that gave the appearance of blood. As he came to center stage, he faced the audience. He reached up with his right hand, removing the mask with a flourish.

  “I know him,” Ellis murmured to herself. Silenus Tune had been one of the people she had meet in Gamin. Only slightly taller than herself, he had a young, clean-shaven face with a mischievous, one-sided cant to his smile that always put her on her guard.

  “Lord Merrick and Lady Ellis,” Silenus said, bowing deeply toward them both in the front row. He then gave a less gracious bow to the rest of the audience. “And to everyone else of far lesser consequence! The Nightbirds Society is pleased to present…”

  Ellis braced herself. The Nightbirds Literary Society had been Jenny’s social club in Gamin. That it should exist in this house of eternal horrors as well was both significant and disturbing.

  “The Tragedy of Jenny March!”

  Ellis’s gasp was covered completely by the roar of approval from the audience.

  “Oh, a tragedy!” Alicia beamed, clapping her hands together lightly. “Those are the best. Ever so much more engaging.”

  “Let the play begin!” Merrick called out.

  The great velvet curtain rose behind Silenus as he bowed deeply a second time. The stage was bare behind him, the raw bricks of the back wall exposed and only a pair of tormentors to frame the sides of the proscenium.

  “If we take you back, dear friends. Back before the beginning.” Silenus took several steps backward toward the center of the exposed stage as he spoke. “For in that time there was a king; a king of light and darkness, of hot and cold, of vengeance and forgiveness.”

  Silenus beckoned with his left hand for someone to come out of the wings. A costumed figure that was entirely yellow on one side and purple on the other strutted onto the stage and began striking poses for the audience as Silenus continued his narration.

  “The king was the embodiment of contradiction,” Silenus continued as he seemed to conduct the actor onstage through his performance. “His head yearned for reason but his heart argued against it. His hands yearned to stay and create but his feet longed to wander. He knew that he must choose between the two halves of his contradiction but could not do so on his own and so he called together his great, large family that they might all advise him as to what to do.”

  Silenus then pointed to a number of the revelers who were standing in both the aisles. With a flick of his hand, he gestured for them to come up on stage and take their places in the drama.

  “Among them were two brothers,” Silenus offered as the excited people he had beckoned onstage settled down. As he spoke the words, one man in a costume that resembled a dragon gently pushed his way through the crowd to stand at the front of the stage. Another man in a costume that resembled a pale horse did likewise from the opposite side. “One of the brothers was the champion of order, obedience and law. The second brother argued for choice, discovery and freedom. They fell to quarreling and soon all of their brothers and sisters were being asked to choose between one side and the other, one brother against the other. It was in this time, with the rumbling thunders of contention threatening war, that all of the host—even good friends—were broken by the streams of choice.”

  “Oh, isn’t it wonderful!” Alicia said. “I just love this part.”

  Ellis continued to watch the stage. There were now four or five main characters at the forefront of the stage, Silenus being one, and some sort of battle going on in the background between the two sides. One of the main characters, dressed as a vagabond, appeared to side with the group on the right side of the stage while two characters in peacock costumes set a gate on the stage between the two warring sides and the other main characters fled through it. The character in the vagabond costume attempted to follow but was unable to pass through. They then crouched next to the gate apparently hiding in wait.

  “It is a very old story,” said Merrick, his eyes fixed on Ellis rather than the stage. “Do you not remember it, Ellis? Is it not familiar to you?”

  “No, Merrick,” Ellis finally replied. “I cannot make heads or tails of it. What has any of this got to do with Jenny?”

  Anger flashed in Merrick’s eyes as his face flushed and he jumped up, facing the stage.

  “Second act!” Merrick shouted at the actors onstage.

  Silenus stammered for a moment in the middle of his oration and then stopped. He quickly ushered everyone off stage and hurried his extras back down the stairs and into the aisles once more.

  “Well, this is moving along rather quickly,” said Alicia, shrugging.

  “Uh, second act? Yes, of course.” Silenus gnawed at his lip for a moment in thought and then held up his beckoning hand toward the center of the front row. “Lady Ellis, may we impose upon you? We shall certainly need you for this act.”

  Ellis felt a chill run down the center of her back. “Oh, no. I couldn’t possibly…”

  “But you must, my dear,” Merrick said. “It is the commedia dell’arte and, after all, an important part of the Game.”

  “Oh, go on, Ellis,” Alicia urged. “It’s only a play.”

  “You do want to find Jenny, don’t you?” Merrick’s face was blank, his eyebrows raised.

  Ellis drew in a breath and stood up. She made her way around to the left side of the stage and started up the stairs. The packed theater erupted in applause and cheers. She followed the directions of Silenus and stood facing the audience in the center of the stage. The vista in front of her made her shiver. All of the bizarre and garish masks and costumes staring back at her made her wonder for a moment if the actors were in the audience and the audience was onstage.

  “Oh, tragedy indeed!” said Silenus as he frowned and wiped away unseen tears from his mask. “But then again, what is the second act for if it is not for competition, heartache and inexplicable sorrow. Pain, indeed, thy name is second act!”

  Margaret, as if on cue, stepped onto the stage from the shadowy distance of the wings. She was not in costume but was still in her plain black dress, her hair bundled tightly at the back of her head. When she spoke, however, her voice had a strange accent to it. “Miss Ellis, you in fo’ a whoopin’ now. I’z don’ know what yo mamma’s gonna
do.”

  Ellis gaped at Margaret. She shook her head, uncertain what to do.

  Silenus slipped quietly up behind her and prompted Ellis by whispering in her ear. “Say ‘She doesn’t have to know.’”

  “She doesn’t have to know,” repeated Ellis.

  The audience drew in a collective breath.

  “Oh, yez she does,” Margaret continued near her on the barren stage. “Ain’t no way you gonna keep this a secret any longer. How you managed this long is beyond me!”

  The pair of peacocks entered again from the side of the stage that was behind her. They brought in with them a tall set of doors, which they held upright between Ellis and the back of the stage.

  Silenus whispered again in Ellis’s ear. “Even if she knows…”

  “Even if she knows…” Ellis said aloud.

  “It doesn’t change a thing,” Silenus continued.

  “It doesn’t change a thing.”

  “You had best to stay out of this,” Silenus murmured.

  “You had best to stay out of this, Emma,” Ellis said.

  Margaret opened her mouth to speak, only it was no longer Margaret. A thin, hunched-over black woman in a servant’s dress had taken her place on the stage.

  “It’s your funeral,” the black woman said.

  The audience behind Ellis roared with laughter.

  Ellis gaped at the woman in the servant’s dress. “Your name … Your name is Emma.”

 

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