Magic flickered up my fingers, intrigued. Bad men?
I didn’t quite hear the words, but I could feel the sensation of inquiry.
“Oh, yes,” I told the Magic silently. “We will play a game with the bad men and dance right under their noses and they will not be able to tell!”
There was another question from Magic, another non-verbal sensation of asking. It felt heavy, peculiar, bound up and worried.
“This will help me fix what is wrong in this kingdom,” I told it. “I know they are hurting you here.”
Before I’d thought the words, I hadn’t fully understood that that was part of what I was feeling in the wrongness in this land. Once I thought them, though, I knew they were true. The Magic here was cut off from the land, it was as full and bloated as the king and just as useless. It was suffering, as much as a voiceless, semi-sentient force could suffer.
Another reason to find the culprits who had done this great work of evil and free this land from their machinations.
After a moment, I felt Magic sweep around me. It brushed against my skin, tangled in my hair, and left me tingling all over.
Someone near me gasped.
I opened my eyes and found eleven pseudo-princesses gaping at me.
“Does that mean it worked?” I asked.
Gillie caught me around the wrist and dragged me in front of the closest mirror. As the room was full of mirrors, she did not have to drag me far.
“Oh,” I said, feeling a little breathless.
Leigh stood there, with her dimples and her coiled dark curls. In her form, I wore a dress of variegated shades of blue, from the darkest midnight to the softest dove-gray. The skirts were full and bell-like, the silk stretching over miles of petticoats and hoops and wires I couldn’t make sense of. I felt as comfortable as if I were wearing my usual dress, but in the mirror my waist was tightly corseted and my shoulders were daringly bared. The Magic had not stopped there. I wore a blue and silver half-mask, and my hair had been piled into a massive curly work of architecture on the top of my head. The curls were twisted about with ribbons and jewels so that every time I turned my head, my hair sparkled intriguingly. A sapphire tiara completed the décor on my head.
My arms were swathed in gloves, reaching up past my elbow. They were of the softest blue-gray shade and glistened with minute jewels.
I lifted the edge of my skirts slightly, and smiled when I saw that Magic had given me an exquisite pair of dancing slippers, the sort usual restricted to the heroine of the Girl with the Glass Slipper scenario.
It was absolutely perfect.
I thanked Magic profusely and hurried to remind it that, unlike the Glass Slipper Girl, I needed to be able to dance long past midnight.
The last thing I needed was to be exposed as myself half-way into the evening.
It was strange, but I felt as if I had been strapped into a coat of armor. Jewels and lace and silk might be peculiar armor, but that’s how it felt. I was shielded by beauty, girded up in petticoats.
I laughed softly at the thought and saw Leigh’s lips in the mirror curve in response.
We could do this, I realized.
Bolstered by my transformation, the other women rushed into their own preparations for the night of dancing. They revealed to me that their own gowns were provided every night by Magic, but that anything they wanted done for their comfort had to be done before the spell struck at ten every evening.
Dinner was delivered by an army of servants. I hid in one of the bathing rooms so they would not see me dressed before the right time. When I returned to the room, I found an enormous feast had been laid out.
The Bellatrices hurried in their preparations. Shoes were padded, feet were bathed, and ankles wrapped. Some of the Bellatrices strapped knives to their thighs. Other tucked what looked like garrotes into their hair. Sharpened hairpins were also tucked away. These, they assured me, would remain after the nightly transformation was complete. The women hurried to bathe and use the facilities. They ate as much as they could manage and urged me to do the same.
“You will not be able to eat or drink all night,” Heidi said, pushing a goblet of water into my hand. “You will think you will die of thirst, but no one has fainted yet…”
“Not until after we are returned home,” Joette agreed. “We do not feel the pain while we are dancing, no matter how terrible the damage might be. When the Magic stops, we feel everything.”
Almost as one, the eleven warriors shuddered.
I tried to imagine any other group of humans who would have been able to survive such an ordeal over so many long years. No wonder the puppet masters here had selected an order of elite warriors to force into their play. They needed that endurance, that strength. That was part of what was being stolen every night.
As the time drew closer, I could see each of the women preparing herself for what was to come. They drew in deep breaths, and steadied themselves and each other. The expressions in their eyes made me think of soldiers marching into battle.
The clock struck ten.
In the time it took the clock to toll the hour, the warriors around me were transformed into princesses. Light flickered around them as they shifted from warriors into the loveliest of maidens. They wore jewels and plumes and silks and satins. They wore exquisite gowns that would have made most princesses weep with jealousy. Waists were nipped tightly. Hair was piled high. Shoulders were bared, and necks ornamented with treasures. Dancing slippers adorned every foot.
And, on every face, a mask.
That was not all the Magic changed. I could see the moment they no longer belonged to themselves. Their bodies straightened, their necks long and elegant, their shoulders back, their arms held gracefully—their eyes grim and frightened.
And the Magic caught hold of me and propelled me to the end of the line. I could feel myself snap into the same princess caricature that held the other women. I had to fight my every instinct not to struggle against the tight hold of Magic around me. I wanted to force the Magic to let me go. I wanted to be able to breathe again. But I couldn’t do that.
I was Leigh, I reminded myself, not Grace, and it was time to dance.
Chapter Ten
We passed through the jeweled orchards, with their blossoms and fruits of gemstones. Even though the Magic forced me to stand straight and walk tall, I could see the branches as we passed, glistening and sparkling, yet sterile and lifeless. It seemed to me that these trees represented everything that was wrong with this kingdom—it was a façade of beauty and full of Magic, but none of it could feed a soul. Diamond apples would not feed me.
And the Magic here, designed to nourish the earth, was killing it instead.
My stomach lurched at the wrongness of it. A leader who fed off his people instead of providing for them. The ground grown sterile and unable to sustain crops. Not under the eyes of a Fairy Godparents, but because those of us who were supposed to protect the land were stealing from it. It was a corruption of everything we were meant to be.
In a way, it was a relief to turn my will over to Magic and just follow along as it directed. My deepest mind wanted to fight, but I silenced that voice. It wouldn’t serve me now. The last thing I wanted to do was draw attention to myself or Leigh.
In my mind, I silently reminded Magic who I was supposed to be, why we were doing this. I reminded it that it would be bad for me and the other princesses, and this land, if anyone saw through my disguise.
Magic, still reaching as if through a sticky barrier, tried to reassure me.
We walked, almost dancing, down the long pathway between the trees. Our skirts swayed and belled out, our arms curled gracefully, heads high. Even now, before we ever reached the ballroom, we were dancers.
The cool breeze off the underground lake was refreshing against my skin. I knew I wasn’t feverish again, but I felt hot and strange in my own skin. Maybe that was because I was wearing someone else’s skin tonight. My hair felt heavy on top of my head, as i
f I were walking under a stack of books, forced into proper posture.
As it had the night I had spied upon the Bellatrices, the boat waited for us on the shore. We stepped on board and stood, still as statues, as it crossed the mirror-still waters. Lights reflected in the cool depths, as remote and chill as the ones over our heads.
This far underground there were no stars, but lights and chandeliers hung overhead, mocking the night sky. These would be more diamonds, I realized, more empty treasure.
Such wealth and waste deep under the feet of those who needed it most.
Scents of a feast we would not eat teased my nose as we disembarked. As I was playing the part of the youngest princess, I was the last to leave. I followed the princess in front of me to the shore and, watching what they did, stood to one side to meet my “prince” for the night.
To my astonishment, the man that bowed before me was Gabriel, the young man who helped with the unicorns. I curtsied in response to his bow and he offered me his arm. I thought the faintest look of puzzlement crossed his face, but it was gone so quickly I couldn’t be certain.
He escorted me to the ballroom floor and the music began. As the warriors had told me, my feet knew how to move. I stepped forward, leaned back, twirled, and brought one arm over my head, pointing my foot in front of me. Then the motion was reversed. The music pulsed through me, driving the motions.
I was only slightly aware of the other dancers matching my movements exactly. My slippers made no sound on the polished floor. My skirts whispered around me. I caught sight of a reflection above my head that turned us into a dozen spinning silk roses.
It was all so orchestrated. So rigid. So studied. So perfect.
Worse still, I could feel Magic being pulled out of me. Every creature, every thing in our world contained Magic. It was a part of all of us. It was tied to our elements, our lives, our core selves.
And this fundamental part of myself was wrested away from me. It was forceful and violating. I did not know if my fellow dancers felt it the way I did, but there was no question that they left this place drained of more than just simple energy. It was their lifeforce that was stolen here.
If nothing were done to stop this atrocity, it would only be finished when they were all dead.
Why their lives? It was obvious to me. They were pure. They worked with unicorns. They were women who embraced the good and fought for the right. What better sacrifice for darkness to swallow? How fat and leechlike could enemies grow, feasting on the blood of their opposite?
In one stroke, it was an attack against balance. It welcomed in Chaos.
Could this be more than just the temptation of skimming off power to serve the offender’s desires? Could this be more than the basest of depravity? Was this an attack on our world as a whole?
Certainly not. Who would be served by such a thing? No, it was easier to believe that arrogance and cruelty was at play here, not the planned thorough destruction of our world.
Sadly, the results might be the same.
Motion caught my eye. Maybe it was because it didn’t move to the music, the way the rest of us did. Maybe it was Magic whispering to me to pay attention. But I did notice them, and I did not think they had been there for long before I saw them.
There were Godparents here.
They walked around the outskirts of the room. They wove between the dancers, expressions of bemusement on some faces, others bleak with disinterest. There were five of them that I could see from various angles. I knew their faces and I knew what they were, but I couldn’t remember their names just now.
They were not the faces I’d expected to see here.
Not Ferdie. Not Cooper.
Not even Gloriana, though I wasn’t sure why I had expected her at all after I had seen her banishment from our world.
One of the fairies was a longtime friend of my parents, the exact sort of fairy I had avoided having to be around. I had purposely not learned his name. I did know that he was on the council.
How deep did this infection go? How far had this disease spread?
Did my parents know about it?
I remembered now that they had tried to warn me against coming to Orionis. They had suggested that I ask a more advanced Fairy Godparent to guide me or take over from me.
Did that mean that they knew?
Were they part of this… work of evil?
The realization that this wasn’t the mischief of one or two fairies, but somehow deeper, nearly made me stumble. My step was timed just the slightest bit off. Gabriel’s eyes widened ever so slightly in response. Then somehow I managed to lean back into the arms of Magic and let it guide me again.
Absently, I realized that the shining floor beneath our feet was stained with blood. The hem of my gown was stained with it. I could see it when we spun around into yet another dizzying turn.
One of the fairies clapped her hands and the music stopped. I lurched, barely regaining my feet before I fell to the floor. All around me, the other dancers stopped and turned to face the source of this interruption.
She was of middle-height, with flowing autumnal hair and the complexion of a fairy who had been young for quite a long time. She wore a sleek, slim gown that accentuated the perfection of her body.
“We have questions for you tonight, sweet princesses,” she said in a rich, full voice. “You will tell us the truth. Do you understand?”
In front of me, I saw Caroline begin to curtsy. I mimicked the motion to the best of my ability.
The fairy paced across the floor, making a moue of distaste as she skirted around a smear of blood. “We are searching for a dead fairy. I suppose I should say, we are searching for her body.” She laughed as if she had told some hilarious joke.
My blood ran cold. I knew without uncertainty that they were talking about my body. About me.
“Has anyone seen the dead fairy we are speaking of?” the fairy demanded, marching towards one of the dancers and cocking her head in a way that reminded me of a serpent homing in on its prey. “Have you seen it, Arielle?”
The girl she was looking at was Gillie. There was no Arielle among the dancers.
My blood, if possible, ran even colder.
Was this a sign that they had done this before? How many times had they twisted this spell to their own devices?
“No, my lady,” Gillie said clearly. “I have not seen a dead fairy anywhere.”
The other fairies followed the example of the first, wandering through our ranks and asking the women at random if they had seen me.
I silently begged Magic to keep them from asking me. I was convinced that, if they looked too closely, they would be able to sense the glamour on me.
It may have been Magic, it may have been sheer luck, but they never looked my way.
Gabriel, still holding my hand as he had when we were dancing, squeezed my fingers gently.
I glanced at him.
He knew.
I didn’t know how he knew, but he knew.
He knew I wasn’t Leigh. And he knew who I was.
He literally held my life in his hands.
And I knew that he wouldn’t betray me. This was a man who worked tirelessly and thanklessly for a herd of unicorns and a group of warriors who had lost their land. I knew that squeeze on my fingers was a reminder that I was not alone. Gabriel would stand with me if the Fairy Godparents figured out who I was.
Just having that knowledge helped me bear the next twenty minutes or so, before the Godparents gave up, the music continued, and we were drawn back into the enchanted dance.
The Godparents continued to circle us, like carrion beasts around a dying creature. They watched our every move, basked in our degradation. They were unmoved by compassion or kindness. To them we were meat to feed them. Our lifeforce theirs to consume. If they learned who I was, they would fall on me without hesitation and finish the job that had nearly killed me before.
But I wasn’t alone, I realized. All around me, these dancers,
these warriors, they were with me. And I was with them. It was a sensation I had never experienced before.
This was what sisterhood was supposed to feel like. This was friendship. I’d only experienced anything even remotely like this in my relationship with Astraea and Dallan. But my relationship with them was always illuminated by my realization that they were much stronger, much older, much better than I was.
These women felt like my peers. They were stronger than me in many ways, but I was stronger than they were in others. I was older than they were, but they were more experienced at life than I was.
More than ever I was determined to make this right. I would give the order back their island and I would give Magic back to the land.
I would heal this land and love its people the way they deserved, the way a Fairy Godparent was always supposed to.
And if I faltered, I knew these women, and this man, would stand up beside me and fight until none of us had breath of life left.
I was not alone.
And neither were they.
Chapter Eleven
Compared to the other dancers, my feet were not that bad. Compared to any blisters or foot pain I’d ever experienced in my life, not excluding the toe I’d broken, my feet were a mess.
As I’d been warned, once we returned to the underground hall and the Magic lifted, all the exhaustion and pain and strain that I’d put on my body hit all at once. I was grateful again for the healing the unicorn had subjected my body to, because otherwise I might have returned half-dead.
I wanted to drop into a chair or a bed and never move again, but there were priorities. Of all the dancers, I was the least injured. That was probably because this was my first night dancing and they’d been dancing every night for years without a chance for their feet to heal in between. The feet I saw were bloody, bent out of shape, and malformed from all the damage they’d been subjected to for so long.
I tried to disguise my disgust, but the Bellatrices could tell how the state of their feet disturbed me. They appeared to accept them with a sort of grim tolerance.
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