Masquerade
The ballroom is dark and frightening. Only the moonlight is allowed inside.
Belinda knew that, on the surface, the line was a lie, and that the masquerade was actually a beautiful rainbow of colors and light, but poems are meant to be true, and this poem, her poem, would be about the truth. The real truth of the ballroom was dark and sinister, a sick web of deceit and politics veiled under pretty manners and fragrant petals. And even if she didn't understand everything that was happening (she doubted that anyone did), she could at least write what she thought was happening.
The orchestra finally finished the slow song they had been playing, and put down their instruments for a moment. The room was still for a few minutes as people talked and whispered, cursing that the music had stopped. Loud notes were useful for conversing under.
Belinda cursed silently, wishing that she had brought a pencil and a pad of paper. Composing a poem and memorizing it at the same time was difficult under the best circumstances, and a crowded masquerade was definitely not the best of circumstances. She had the constant fear that the chandelier was going to drop and set the entire manor on fire, or that a fight was going to break out. It was impossible to dodge fencing swords in close quarters, and you never knew if someone was carrying one of those new pistols she'd heard so much about. Her fears were not the only things making her ill at ease. Her dress was uncomfortable, although her mother had told her that she looked beautiful and slim in the tight corset, and her mask weighed against her face, forcing her to stand unnaturally straight lest it fall and break.
At least no one had asked her to dance yet, and if she had her way, no one would. As she walked towards the veranda, she passed by a full length mirror. Her vanity got the best of her and she paused to glance into the glass. Silver, embroidered stars sparkled against the blue velvet. The dark mask matched perfectly with silver trim and feathers trailing off the sides, and her long, black hair toppled out of the back. While it was nowhere near as extravagant as some of the other dancers costumes, it stood out with its simple design. The fabric seemed to blend into the velvet walls.
"I have to admit," she whispered to herself, "I do look nice."
"Yes, you do," came a soft voice behind her.
Belinda whirled and almost bumped into the stranger. His was dressed in a fine, black suit, but unlike the other men, his gloves were also black. His mask was black with blue and purple feathers dripping from one side, but the eyes inside the mask were a sparkling green.
"Who are you?" she asked unceremoniously. If her parents had heard her, they would have been embarrassed by her lack of manners, but right now she didn't care. This man looked dangerous.
"Someone who's been admiring you from a distance for some time," he smiled, "and who would like to dance with you now."
He gripped her wrist and gently pulled her toward the floor, ignoring her feeble and entirely untrue protests of being unable to dance.
"Nonsense, you're being too modest. Why, I'm certain that you are the best dancer in the manor." He took her hand in his and placed his arm around her. "I'm sure you'll put the other ladies to shame."
Lady,
she thought in surprise. No one's ever called me a lady before.As he led her across the floor, more lines popped into her head. There is no alternative but to dance. There is no corner where you can hide. Your partner picks you out from all the crowd, and leads you onto the marble floor.
"I suppose I have to abandon a social poem," she sighed in a tiny voice. And I didn't want to write another romantic verse. So what rhymes with floor?
"More, score, door, before," he whispered in her ear. "And why would you care about society anyway? Politics is far too boring for a lady of your imagination."
Belinda barely kept herself dancing when he said that.
"How did you...?" her voice trailed off as she looked into his eyes. They seemed to glow behind his mask.
"That's not important right now," he smiled. "Right now, beautiful lady, I need your help. Something terrible is going to happen unless I can get into the host's bedroom."
"What?" she started, trying to pull away. Her sense of propriety overcame her surprise at having her mind read. "If you think I'm going with you to a bed--"
"Forgive my speech," he immediately apologized, sounding perfectly sincere. His grip tightened on her before she could separate from him. "I did not mean to suggest anything improper. Well, that's not entirely true. I do need to get into the host's private chambers, but I swear on my honor that I do not desire to get into your private chambers."
She had never been spoken to like that before! This stranger was treating first like a lady, and then like a real person.
"But the host is a man! You're not peculiar that way, are you?" she asked, letting her voice trail off.
He stared at her in confusion for a moment, then laughed suddenly. "No, no, no, never anything like that, Lord preserve me! I need something valuable out of his safe, and I believe you can help me."
"You want me to steal something?" she asked in a small whisper. Then a note of understanding crept into her voice. "Oh, I see, then. You need someone to pin a crime on, and I'm the stupid girl you chose. If you think a few pretty words and a simple parlor trick are going to make me destroy my reputation--I shouldn't even be seen with a thief, let alone be talking to one."
He interrupted her before she could finish her tirade. "Dear lady, it is not like that at all. Would you be so kind as to allow me a few minutes on the veranda? The dance is about to end, and I don't want any outsiders listening in."
Belinda considered. On one hand, this man was obviously a criminal. And how on earth had he managed to hear what she was thinking? But on the other hand, she had to admit he was awfully polite, and he did not seem all that threatening. Besides, he had the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen.
"All right," she whispered. "I'll go with you."
He smiled and led her outside to a secluded part of the balcony, far out of hearing range of the other guests.
"I don't know why I'm so cautious," he said, more to himself than to Belinda. "Everyone else is so careful to make sure that no one is listening to them that they don't hear anyone else."
Belinda leaned back against a white post, resting her hands on the railing. The large hanging potted plant beside her helped hide the pair from any prying eyes. The stranger leaned over the railing and looked down into the lawn.
"I am a thief," he started, "I'll admit that. But I'm no ordinary thief."
"Oh, you rob from the rich to give to the poor?" she smiled wrily.
He laughed. "Nothing that noble. I steal mostly for the sport, although lately I've found myself stealing from people objects they shouldn't have."
"What do you mean?"
"Objects that are evil," he added cryptically. "And need to be destroyed."
"Such as?" she asked impatiently, rolling her eyes.
"Well, I can tell you that your host, the honorable Sir Edmont, has recently stumbled over an ancient vase in one of our country's numerable ruins. When I heard about his acquisition, I took it upon myself to research the artifact and the castle he found it in." He sighed and shook his head. "It just so happens that the previous owner of that castle was the Duke of Arinshire, who had taken it from the Trevor family, who had in turn taken it from the Lothair family. These people had lived in this castle for generations after they had wrested it years before from a Welsh family, whose name I forget, who had built part of it after the Granges died out, and these people had--"
"Please," she interrupted, "I'm sure that this castle's history goes down several lineages, but there's no need to recount every one."
He smiled again. "Sorry. In any case, the original owners of the castle, and incidentally its primary builders, were Celtic. It took some deep digging into very old books, but I finally found out that the castle was built not as a place of residence, but as a tomb, to house a body and its spirit."
"Was it one of their gods?"
The thief shook his head. "No, nothing that nice. I'm afraid it's the body of a very cruel sorcerer who enjoyed destroying people's souls. Needless to say, he was lured into a trap by what the books like to call a virtuous maiden, and his own soul was separated from his body and put into a container of some sort. It's this container that I believe Sir Edmont has found, and I think he wants to use the sorcerer's power for himself."
"And you mean to steal it away?" she asked suspiciously.
He nodded, not catching her dubious tone. "I visited the old castle, and I think I know a place inside where no one will look. I can hide the spirit there, where the spells will make certain that the spirit stays safely locked inside."
Belinda rolled her eyes. "What makes you think that Sir Edmont is going to use this spirit? He looks well off enough as it is. And how do I know you're not going to use this spirit for evil purposes? In fact, how can I be sure that you're telling me the truth at all? I don't even know your name." She looked him over, then frowned. "You certainly don't sound like a common thief."
He paused, then bowed his head in acknowledgment. "All right. First things first. I know Sir Edmont. He's good friends with my father. My father spoke with him a few days ago, so I know he's up to something."
"What did he want?"
Devin sighed in disgust. "I'm afraid our host is too ambitious for his own good. Sir Edmont wanted my father's loyalty, and in return we would receive a few royal favors."
"Royal?"
He laughed humorlessly. "That's exactly what my father said. It seems Sir Edmont is preparing to become the king's advisor."
It was Belinda's turn to laugh. "Is he mad? He hasn't been allowed back into the castle since they found out his mother was Catholic."
"True, but he believes he's on his way to the royal court. Of course, my father refused."
"And now your family is worried about this power Sir Edmont is about to capture," she finished for him, "and you need to destroy it before the king or yourselves are threatened."
He nodded. "That's about it. If that spirit can actually be controlled, then we're the first on the chopping block. If that spirit can't be controlled, then Britain will be the first nation to fall."
"The first nation? Why would a spirit attack the world?"
"It's been locked up for a few hundred years," he laughed. "I would imagine it's somewhat irritated."
Belinda leaned back and considered. "And what about you?"
"I don't understand. What do you mean?"
"Yes, what about you? How can I be sure that once you get this spirit, you'll destroy or hide it? For all I know, you might be the villain here."
He shook his head, making the feather's on his mask tremble. "I do not want to use this spirit for anything. To tell you the truth, I'm very nervous about it. Nowhere is it written that this spirit has to cooperate with the container's owner. Even just saying its name is supposed to be risky."
Then I guess I shouldn't ask,
Belinda thought in disappointment. She was curious by nature."No, it's best that you don't," he said suddenly. "I can show you the spelling, though, and you can figure out the pronunciation from there."
She just stared at him. He looked back at her, then groaned when he realized what he had done.
"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I don't mean to do that. It's not my fault. It's just...my father has this spell book that he constantly tampers with. He accidentally triggered a spell while I was in the room with him, and I got this 'gift' in return. He's tried to fix it, but I'm afraid it's permanent."
"You don't like hearing people's thoughts?"
"Heavens, no! It's bloody annoying." He lowered his head and stared at the tile floor. "You have no idea what perverted things are going on in people's minds. The worst thing is I can't tell the difference between what they've said and what they've thought. It's all the same to me."
"Then you can only hear what's on the surface?"
He gave a bitter laugh. "Yes, praise God. At least I don't have to know their deeper thoughts. All I have to see are the images of the lies they're going to tell, the people they want to kill. And the fantasies, good Lord help me, the fantasies! I'll tell you this, more than a dozen people in that ballroom were imagining the most indecent things about you."
A little unnerved, she turned and studied the plant. "At least none of them asked to dance with me."
"They couldn't. Many of them are married, and a few of them...well..." his voice trailed off.
"A few of them what?" she prompted, curious to know what he had heard.
"A few of them were women."
Belinda felt her skin crawl a little. "I shouldn't have asked. I didn't need to know that."
"Neither did I, but I heard it all the same. It's terrible to know these things about people you thought you knew."
Belinda looked at him sharply. "You speak as if you know some of these people personally, or you're at least aquainted with them. And you're obviously educated. No commoner speaks like you do. Who are you?"
He looked up at the stars. "Do I have your word that you won't tell anyone? Being a thief is not the best hobby to have in this country, and if people found out what I can hear..."
"I won't tell anybody, I promise."
The thief closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "My name is Devin Dumond."
She gasped as she recognized the name. "Son of Alexander Dumond, Duke of Lorraine?"
He nodded.
"That explains quite a bit," she said. "No wonder your family never comes out of the castle."
"What do you mean?" he asked defensively. "I attend several social functions. Everyone knows who I am."
Belinda smiled. "Of the dozens of balls, dances and dinners held each year, I've heard you only attend a handful. My father thinks that your family is fanatically religious, and that you're all trying to set an example by living like hermits. Who'd have thought you were a thief and your father a magician."
Devin fell silent and closed his eyes. Belinda was puzzled for a moment, then sighed as she realized her blunder.
"I'm sorry," she said, putting her hand on his. "I didn't mean to insult you. I was careless and let my tongue run on. The last thing I want to do is hurt you."
"But you're right," he whispered. "The Duke's son is a common thief. He doesn't like it very much, but it's the only thing I'm really good at."
"He knows?"
Devin nodded. "He's the only one, beside you now." The feathers on his mask jostled in the breeze. "I've been picking locks since I was a child. And I've been stealing things since my early teens. I've never been caught. In fact, my victims usually don't know they've been robbed until days afterwards."
Belinda glanced away. "Why are you telling me all this? I'm just the daughter of a spice merchant. You don't even know my name yet."
"To be quite honest, it's nice to finally be able to talk about it, instead of having to hide it all the time. I was going insane keeping it bottled up."
"But why me?" she persisted. "Why trust me out of all the crowd? I haven't even taken off my mask."
"Well, you were one of the few who wasn't thinking disgusting thoughts. After listening to your mind for awhile, I'm fairly certain I can trust you. That, and you have this odd aura around you."
"An aura?" Belinda asked skeptically.
"Yes, it's like a halo of dark blue and violet. At first I thought I was hallucinating, but I knew I wasn't seeing things when you were the only one who was able to walk through the row of fountains without getting wet."
"I just thought that was luck," she argued.
"It was," he agreed, "very good luck. And apparently it's constant, too. I happened to be looking when you narrowly avoided tripping into the rose bushes on your way in, although several other young ladies unfortunately fell on a chipped cobblestone."
"Is that why you want my help?" she asked. "Because of this great luck aura?"
"That, and you look fantastic in that dress," he admitted with a smile, eyeing the blue fabric and the curves inside it. She didn't really mind. She had looked him over just like that when he had been talking about that boring castle history, and it was rather flattering. Still, it would be better if he wasn't so obvious about staring at her.
Now I wish I could read your mind
, she thought deliberately.He was going to reply until he figured out that she was baiting him.
"Clever," was all he could think of. "Very clever."
For a few moments neither of them said anything. Then he turned to her and looked her square in the eye.
"So, will you help me?"
Belinda grinned, thinking about what her mother would say if she knew what her oldest daughter was about to do. If she was caught, it would mean social death, no marriage prospects and perhaps even the gallows. Her mind was made up in an instant.
"Of course I will."
Devin smiled and looked around one more time to make sure that they were alone. "Thank you. If all goes well, this should be over in an hour or so, after one more dance."
Devin took her hand and began to lead her back onto the dance floor. "And I'm certain your mother would advise you to take the opportunity for a little adventure. I passed her a few hours ago, and she was quite bored."
As they danced to the music, they slowly made their way to the stairs leading to the second floor. Once the song had ended, they walked up the carpeted steps and seemed to join the few other guests who had forsaken the dancing to admire Sir Edmont's vast gallery of classical paintings. Belinda hardly gave them a glance. She preferred tapestries to paintings.
I hope you have a good plan for getting into his bedroom unnoticed,
she thought, knowing he could hear her. He barely nodded as they took their time to look at the pictures, seemingly wandering but actually following a deliberate path."I'm counting on your good fortune to keep any prying eyes off of us," he whispered. "I'll have a much easier time if we're not disturbed."
But what if my good luck won't help us here?
she asked, suddenly worried. What if we do get caught, and the only good luck I get is to escape before we're hung?"Don't jinx it and it won't happen," he smiled. "Relax. We'll be fine, I promise."
They made their way into a darkened corridor where the candles had not been lit. He took her hand and led her to a nondescript door, then motioned for her to keep watch. As she looked down the hall, Devin knelt down to the lock and took a long, metal rod out of his sleeve. He poked the rod into the lock and started to jerk it around, twisting it inside the door. Belinda wrung her hands, worried that someone would come around the corner and see them.
Hurry up,
she thought.Suddenly they both heard footsteps coming down the hall rather quickly. In a few seconds they would be caught.
Devin, he's going to spot us
!"Almost...got it!" he whispered.
There was an audible click, and then Devin turned the doorknob. They both rushed in and closed the door, locking it behind them. The footsteps still came towards them, heading for the door. Keys jangled in the lock.
"Hide!" Devin whispered furiously, ducking into an open closet.
Belinda glanced around the moonlit room in a panic. The only things in the room were a full length mirror, a desk, a chair, a large potted plant, and the closet. The window curtains were too small and light to hide behind. She took a deep breath and chose her spot.
The door opened and a man with a candle strode in, locking the door again. Through the crack between the closet door and the wall, Devin could barely see his reflection in the mirror. Even though the man's face was masked, he knew exactly who it was. The party's host had apparently come to check on his latest acquisition.
Sir Edmont went directly to the full length mirror across from the desk. Devin watched as the knight pulled the mirror off the wall, revealing a small compartment at face height. Sir Edmont took another key out and opened the tiny door, looked inside for a moment, then closed the compartment again and replaced the mirror.
Sir Edmont went to leave the room, but stopped at the door. A suspicious look crossed his face and he turned back. The room looked empty, but that didn't mean no one else was there. There was only one place where anyone could hide. Devin's eyes widened as he headed for the closet.
The knight threw the door open and peered inside. Only shadows and a few dusty outfits lay inside. There were a few boxes tossed haphazardly on the floor, but none of them were large enough for someone to fit into. He made a mental note to himself to have one of the maids clean it up. Satisfied that he was alone, Sir Edmont left the room and locked the door.
Inside the closet, the boxes seemed to rise up by themselves. Devin pushed his way out from beneath them, cursing under his breath as their corners bruised him. He moved them aside as quietly as he could, then stepped out of the closet.
The thief looked around. The curtains were sheer, so he could tell that no one was behind them, and he knew she could not have gone back into the hall. Except for the closet, there was no place for his friend to have hid.
My friend,
he thought, I need to learn her name.Devin went to the window. Just as he suspected, the latch was undone. Sir Edmont hadn't even noticed. He pushed the window up and leaned out. Now he was really confused. Aside from a two story drop, there was nothing out here. The road ran under the archway they stood on, but other than that, it was empty.
"Is he gone?" came a small whisper.
Devin gasped and looked to his right. A few feet from the window, Belinda stood on the thin ledge, her dress flowing in the cold air. Her feathers tried to take off on their own, fluttering up and down.
"Yes, he's gone," he said, reaching his hand out to her. "Come in before anyone sees you."
She took his hand and slowly climbed back inside the dark room. When she got inside she turned and closed the window. Only then did she relax.
"What luck! That was a stroke of genius," he complimented her.
"Well, it's not as if I could use the closet," she said sarcastically. "And mother says chivalry is dead."
Behind the mask, Devin looked genuinely hurt. "There wasn't enough room for both of us."
"And you couldn't use the window?" she asked. "Do you have any idea how difficult it was to climb outside without losing my mask? And in a corset, no less!"
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not used to having a partner. But to be honest, I never would have thought to use the window. And I didn't think about the corset. I didn't know you even wore one."
She smiled despite herself. He had called her a partner! "Thank you for the flattery, but I do, and it's very tight. I almost broke a rib getting out there." She sighed. "I suppose men just don't think about those things."
Devin shook his head. "Not really. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have another lock to pick before our host returns." He removed the mirror and started to work with the compartment's lock.
Bored, Belinda went to the desk and opened the top drawer. A little brass key stood out, but since she didn't know where it went, she just set it on the corner. She glanced over a few papers, then decided that they were not important and went to another drawer.
I'm glad mother insisted I learn to read,
she smiled. I'd never know what was in here otherwise."Your mother sounds like a very wise woman," Devin whispered, muttering as he twisted the rod in the lock. "Not many people want their daughters to be educated."
Belinda rolled her eyes and kept searching the desk. "No, she just wanted to make sure I could watch the family business in my father's absence."
"A woman running a business?" Devin laughed. "That's odd."
"Oh, not run it," she explained, "that's too many headaches for me. I just have to make sure that his apprentices don't destroy it, that's all."
"Ah," he smiled. "You know, I never did get your name downstairs."
"Belinda Evanshire," she told him. "After my grandmother."
"Evanshire?" he asked, disconcerted. "Not the spice merchant Daniel Evanshire?"
"One and the same," she said.
"I had no idea I was in such wealthy company," he admitted. "Is it socially permissible for me to even speak to you? I think my father only has half of your father's wealth."
She laughed quietly. "That's not quite true."
"No?"
"No, of course not. Not even the king has half of my father's wealth."
Devin was about to laugh when he realized that she was not joking. "And he lets you mind the store when he's gone? Lady, you're far too modest about your business skills. All those numbers would confuse even the Pope's accountants."
Belinda smiled at the compliment. "Don't sell yourself short. At least your family has a title. We had to buy our family crest."
"Ah, yes, a title, a crumbling castle and dusty, old stories of faded triumph," he laughed.
"Is your family lacking in funds?" she asked, surprised.
"Not really," he admitted, "but the castle we have is one of the oldest in England. It takes quite a bit to repair the place. It's a shame there are no more dragons running about. If we hadn't killed them all, we might have something to take our minds off of the house."
"Something other than wine?"
Devin almost laughed out loud. "I wish it were so! Rather, something other than magic. I'm afraid my father's becoming quite a nuisance with those spells. My curse is not the first time he's made a mistake. Just last week he said the wrong word in a plant growth spell, and all the tables and beds sprouted leaves."
"Well, at least it makes the castle a little brighter," she offered.
"Not when it's ragweed and poison ivy," he grumbled. "And last night, when we didn't have any rain, he tried to call thunder clouds over our fields so our peasants could grow something."
"It didn't work?"
"Oh, it did, to a point. It rained inside the castle! The beds and tables got a fresh watering, and after all the work we'd gone through to trim them. I'm afraid I haven't had much sleep in the last few days."
Belinda smiled in sympathy, about to say something, when Devin gave a little cry of triumph.
"Got it," he said, opening the compartment door and pulling out a tiny vase. He held it gingerly and took it to Belinda.
"Is that it?" she asked in surprised.
"What do you mean, is that it?" he demanded defensively. "This thing holds a very powerful demon inside."
"But it's so small," she insisted. "It's smaller than your hand."
"Well, he's in there," he said, a little irate.
"If he is, then he's very cramped." Belinda looked back at the desk and gasped as her hand fell on something.
"What is it?" he asked quickly, looking down. "He doesn't keep a snake in there, does he?"
She shook her head and picked up the heavy object with both hands. Devin's breath caught in his throat. Belinda held a large book with a black, leather binding and a brass lock holding it shut. She glanced back at the key she had found earlier.
"So that's what it unlocks?" she whispered. "Sir Edmont has his own grimoire. I think he was going to try to use your spirit."
"It's not my spirit," he said, shaking his head. "And no one's going to invoke him if I have anything to say about it. Who knows what might happen?"
Devin took out a cloth bag from his shirt and put both the vase and the spell book into it. As an afterthought, he took the key as well.
"Our host really shouldn't play with these toys," he said firmly. "Father can look at that book, and destroy it, if need be."
Suddenly there were footsteps charging up the hall toward them, followed by a jingle of keys in the lock.
"Thieves!" came a loud shriek from the hallway. "I knew it! Thieves! Just wait 'till I get my hands around your throats!"
"How did he know we were here?" Belinda gasped.
"He must have suspected something and come back," Devin answered. "We'd better leave now."
Muffled voices rushed up the stairs, coming to see what was happening.
"Damn it," Sir Edmont cursed, "why won't this bloody key turn?"
Devin slung the bag over his shoulder and darted to the window.
"I told you," he smiled, "great luck!"
Belinda followed him, taking his hand as he helped her back onto the ledge.
"I have this terrible feeling of deja vu," she laughed, despite the situation. "My God, we're going to be hanged and I'm giggling!"
Devin shook his head, stepping up beside her. "You're only laughing because you're having fun. And we're not going to get hanged."
"Stay where you are!" Sir Edmont yelled through the wooden door. "I know your names, you thieves! Evan something and Melinda Urnfire, and your father's a rice merchant!"
"Ready?" Devin asked, ignoring the knight.
Belinda nodded.
Together, the stepped off of the ledge.
Luckily, a cart of hay was being pulled along the road at that precise moment, and they both hit the hay so hard that the yellow fibers flew up and over them. The two thieves covered themselves with more hay so that it was impossible to see them.
"See," Devin whispered in her ear, "I said you were lucky."
Belinda was about to agree until she happened to look up through the hay.
"More like bad luck," she said. "We're going back inside!"
He looked up and groaned. Sure enough, they were heading into the courtyard.
"All right, new plan," he sighed. "As soon as the cart stops, we get out and head for the front gate."
There was a loud slam as the gates were suddenly closed. In the distance, they heard Sir Edmont screaming at his guards to shut off all exits.
"No problem," Devin said, but she could hear the doubt in his voice. "Give me a minute. I'll think of something."
Belinda grabbed his hand and pulled him from the cart, which stopped moving at that moment. She lead him to the garden, racing past the rose bushes and flower gardens. The moon shone brilliantly overhead, giving her a perfect view.
"Don't worry," she laughed, "I have an idea. Edmont has a hedge maze back here somewhere. We can hide there for awhile."
"But he probably knows that maze inside and out," Devin argued.
"He won't. He can't stop sneezing if he walks around flowers," she told him. "He never steps outside. You really should attend more dances, you'll pick up a few things."
"Sorry, but my family is quite religious," he smiled. "We're trying to set an example to society by being reclusive. There's the maze," he pointed.
Belinda nodded and they ran for the wall of hedges almost seven feet high. She noticed the entrance, marked off by an arch of roses and dark, green vines, and suddenly stopped. In the dim light, it looked more like the mouth of hell than anything else.
"What's wrong?" he asked her.
"It's nothing," she said quickly. "It just looks odd, that's all."
He nodded in agreement. "Yes, it does, but right now there are several guards coming toward us, and I would rather not get caught."
She sighed and ran with him inside the maze, taking an immediate right turn.
"Do you have any idea which way to go?" he whispered, turning left as soon as another path opened up.
"Not at all," she answered. "As long as we don't hit a dead end, we'll be fine."
Back at the entrance, they heard men entering the maze.
"Split up," yelled a loud voice, "don't come back until you find them!"
"I think we have a problem," Devin whispered.
We just have to go deeper into the maze
, she said firmly. We'll be fine there.They kept running for a few more seconds, but soon she was forced to slow down.
It's my corset,
she apologized. And this awful mask. If I'm going to run, they've got to come off."When we find a place to hide, I'll loosen your corset," he promised. "But the mask needs to stay. If they catch a glimpse of your face, I'm sure they'll recognize you. Let's turn left here."
She nodded, laying her hand on the side of the hedge. As if she was burned, she drew her hand back, muffling her cry. Devin took her hand in his and lifted it to his eyes. A thin, red scratch ran over her palm.
"These hedges have thorns on them," he whispered. "I didn't even notice, they're so small."
"Small but sharp," she replied.
"Are you all right?"
She nodded. "Yes, I'm fine. Let's keep going."
No one found them as they walked, but they could hear men's voices on the other side of the thick hedges. They wandered aimlessly through the twisting path, passing tall statues and busts inside the hedges, nearly covered by the vines. Belinda thought the carved people looked like they might start to follow them, and the moonlight made it seem like they were breathing.
"Don't worry," he teased softly, "I'll keep you safe from those evil statues."
"Could you at least pretend my thoughts are private?" she whispered back. "It's unnerving to hear you responding to them."
"My apologies, lady," he started, but his voice drifted away as they turned right.
They stepped into a clearing that was a third the size of the ball room, with tiles and a fountain at the center. Stone benches circled the fountain, and more statues had been positioned in the corners. Countless roses covered the inner hedges.
"I believe we've found the center," he said needlessly.
"Well, I suppose we can hide here until morning," she said, walking to a shadowy corner.
"Or at least until we can get away," he added. "I really don't want to be here too long. Here, sit down, and I'll undo those strings."
She knelt with her back to him, and he bent over her. His hands shook slightly as they untied the laces of the dress first, and then loosened the corset strings.
"Don't be so nervous," she whispered over her shoulder. "The strings won't turn into serpents."
"Sorry," he whispered. "I'm just not used to fiddling with a lady's garments."
"Or her undergarments?" she asked mischievously.
Devin's hands jerked back a moment, then finished the job and redid the dress laces. Immediately after he tied the last knot, he pulled a few feet away from her.
"What's wrong?" she asked, relishing her first full breath since she had slipped the corset on. His eyes met hers briefly, then looked away. She smiled as she realized what was bothering him.
"Don't worry about it," she laughed gently. "I have servants at home who do this for me all the time. It's not improper at all."
Devin forced himself to smile. "Yes, but as you say, your servants do that all the time. I've never done it before. I have to admit, I feel like I've violated you somehow."
Belinda started to giggle. "Devin, you just loosened a few strings. That doesn't mean you've ruined me." He didn't answer, so she knew something else was called for. "All right, then, if you think you've been a bit too intimate with me, then you should return the favor."
He looked at her sideways. "What do you mean?"
"Take off your mask."
The thief reeled back in surprise, and his hand reflexively went to the feathers on his mask. "I shouldn't. I don't feel right without it."
"I can tell," she said knowingly. "The handful of dances you attend are masquerades, which means no one has ever seen your face, save your closest family. I take it you've never gone to a ball without a mask."
Devin lowered his face. "I prefer it that way."
Belinda nodded. "I believe you. But that's not just eccentric, you're shutting people out."
"So?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but his brevity betrayed how nervous he felt.
"So, I think you need to take off your mask, for your own sake."
"I happen to like it," he said defensively.
"I don't think that's true," she told him. "You act more like you need to wear it."
"Look," he started, "I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine with it on."
Ignoring his protests, Belinda reached forward and softly undid the string holding his mask in place. He tried to back away, but his back was against the statue. The heavy ceramic dropped to the ground.
Devin put his hand in front of his face, blocking it from sight. "Bel, please don't look at me," he begged, trying to shy away.
"Why not?"
"I-" he tried to talk, but his voice failed. "Don't, please, don't."
Belinda eased beside him, taking off her own mask and setting it down alongside his as she moved. When she was next to him, she hugged him close to her and gently pushed his hand away.
For a moment, they were both silent. Then she finally spoke.
"What are you frightened of?" she asked, trying to keep her voice low. "You're not ugly."
Indeed, his face was almost flawless. His features were sharply defined, with high cheekbones and deep set eyes. His hair was glossy, and his skin was smooth. After a few seconds, Devin turned his face towards her, and her eyes widened in surprise.
On the left side of his face, which had been just out of her sight, there was a tiny, black mark set near the corner of his eye. She lay her fingers on his cheek, softly turning his face a bit farther, so that she could get a better view. The mark was actually a perfect star that looked more like a pentagram than a regular, five pointed star.
"Is it a birthmark?" she asked curiously.
He nodded. "Do you know what it means?"
She shook her head.
"Just about everyone does," he whispered. "My father knew it the minute he saw it. It means I'm destined to become evil."
"What?"
"Every birthmark means something different," he explained slowly. "A square on the arm means you're going to be prosperous, a triangle on the heart means religion will dominate your life, and so on. The star is a sign of magick and night, and because it's close to my left eye, it means my future is going to be determined by an evil that I will cause."
"Can't you prevent it?" she asked, fully believing him.
He shook his head sadly. "No, it's already been decided."
She leaned back against the statue. "You're afraid of it happening?"
He nodded. "Of course. I don't want to be evil."
"Then you won't be."
He laughed at her remark. "You don't understand, it's already decided."
"No, I think you don't understand. You said your future is going to be determined by an evil you cause. It just means that something bad, probably an accident, you cause is going turn you down another path. It doesn't say you're going to become evil, just that you'll be around it."
Devin cocked his head at her. "That's so insane it just might be true."
Belinda smiled. "If you don't want to be evil, then you won't be. I guess that's why you wear this," she whispered, lifting the wooden crucifix held by a thin chain around his neck. It was half hidden under his shirt.
"I feel better with it around," he admitted freely. "Like I'm protected."
"I'm sure the priests would love to know that," she said. "At least it would let them know they're making a difference."
"They already know that. Why else would they get so much in the collection plates?"
She smiled at him, about to say something, when they heard loud footsteps enter the small clearing. Without a word, they slipped farther behind the statue, hidden in the shadows. Their masks were hastily replaced.
Who's there?
Belinda thought worriedly. Another guard?"Worse," he whispered. "Our illustrious host himself. I thought you said he couldn't walk through his own maze."
He can't! At least, he shouldn't be able to.
She gathered her skirts tightly around herself. He can't see us, can he?Devin shook his head, then ducked down farther as Sir Edmont strode by the statue. The knight paused in front of the pedestal, holding still and staring at the tall hedges in front of him, then suddenly came around the other side and grabbed Belinda's arm. She shrieked instinctively as he forcefully pulled her up into his grip.
The thief jumped up, about to attack the knight. Sir Edmont saw him move, and almost magically a knife appeared in his hand, held just below his prisoner's throat.
"I wouldn't, if I were you," the knight grinned wickedly. "This young lady wouldn't look any better if blood were to course down her dress."
Devin stood still.
Sir Edmont continued. "I believe you have something which belongs to me. Give me the vase."
Slowly, Devin's hand went to the bag at his side.
No, don't do it,
Belinda practically screamed at him. It's too dangerous to be letloose like that.
"I don't have a choice," Devin said softly. "I can't let you die."
"Smart boy," Sir Edmont laughed, not realizing that Devin was speaking to Belinda.
Devin took the vase out and placed it in the knight's extended hand. Sir Edmont glanced at it a moment to make sure that it was real, then looked back up at Devin.
"Take your mask off," he ordered him. "Let me see what you look like."
The thief slowly complied, letting the mask fall to the ground. He could barely force himself to look the knight in the eye. Sir Edmont looked over Devin, trying to match his face with a name, but he finally sighed in defeat.
"I don't know who you are," he admitted, "but I think you'll do."
"Do for what?" Devin asked.
Instead of answering, Sir Edmont abruptly thrust Belinda away from him, then placed his fingers on the stopper of the vase. Devin was too far away to stop him as he pulled the cork from the neck. Black smoke out of the bottle, curling about like oil on water. It rose ten feet into the air, coalescing into a solid shape. The hedges began to writhe like a living snake.
"The spirit," Devin gasped, "it's free!"
"Behind you!" Belinda screamed in terror, but she was too late.
Branches swarmed off of the hedge and wrapped themselves around Devin's arms and waist, pulling him back against the tall bushes. He cried out in pain as the thorns embedded themselves in his skin.
"Yes, you'll do nicely," came a new voice.
Belinda shivered as she listened. The voice sounded like purest evil.
"I recognize the star," the spirit went on. "You'll be a valuable ally. You, on the other hand," and it waved vaguely at Sir Edmont, "are no longer needed."
"What?" the knight asked in fear. "But...but I let you out! You must obey me!"
"You are nothing," the ancient spirit began to laugh. "Only the book can seal me again, and you have neither book nor maiden."
Smoke coiled around the knight, surrounding him in a tight sphere. Without any warning, the smoke whipped around him and constricted. Bones snapped and flesh tore audibly. After a moment, the body was pushed into a smaller sphere no larger than a thimble, and then tossed aside into the grass.
The spirit turned back to Devin, smoke forming two solid hands, which he used to tilt the thief's face up toward him. It felt like a corpse's touch. Devin struggled to get out of its grip, then gasped as the hedges tightened their grip. Blood dripped from his arms.
"Don't fight me, boy," the spirit hissed. "I have destroyed men far stronger than you."
Devin shut his eyes, hoping that Belinda had run away. He hung limply in the branches, moaning in pain. The thorns were cutting cruelly into him. The spirit grabbed the bag at his side and tossed it out of sight.
"I don't think you'll need that, little thief," it chuckled. "In fact, I don't think you'll need much of anything any more."
Forgotten in the corner, Belinda watched in horror as the spirit slid around Devin, enveloping him in a cloud of black. He struggled maniacally, ignoring the thorns as he strained to break free. She was not certain of what was happening, but she did know she had to get Devin out of there. She crawled quietly to the bag with the book and took it out, watching to make sure she was not noticed.
Belinda turned the key in the book's lock, and the cover flew open, flinging the key aside into the darkness.
"I need the spell that'll seal the spirit away again," she said to herself, but the pages flipped violently to a precise page. She scanned the words, then nodded. That was it. Apparently the book would give the proper spell all by itself.
"Culpa eradne evantanto," she started to read, holding the vase high in the air. "Muraio era kolili. Ne stan ya me ves supplic entierra."
"What?" the spirit turned from his hostage to stare at her. "Who the hell are you? What did you say?"
"Eranana beroon neveg. Gypsim quarton, evastonao bevlan yu terryn." Belinda looked up to see the body of smoke slithering toward her, but she forced herself to go on. Light began to shine from the vase. "Yevanon rini serenan contigo dolo senme murioarmor. Dolne, dolne, baccom."
"Stop," the spirit screamed, lunging at her.
"Evanor!" she yelled the final word.
Light as bright as a star poured from the vase, circling around the dead sorcerer and wrapping tightly around the dark smoke. The spirit screeched and hissed as it was dragged across the grass, but nothing it did had any effect. Claw marks appeared on the ground where it tried to pull itself away. Dirt yielded easily under its grip, and it slid neatly into the vase. The cork flew up out of the shadows of its own will and embedded itself in the glass neck.
Belinda let out a shaky sigh of relief. "And I thought the dance would be a bore," she laughed to herself.
A groan to her left reminded her that her friend was still in pain. She looked up and saw the hedges release their hold on Devin. He collapsed to the ground, struggling for breath. Belinda crawled over to him, not worrying about how ragged her dress was becoming, and pulled him into her arms.
"Devin, can you hear me?"
His eyes opened, then shut again. "I'm alive," he whispered, "don't worry. I'm just tired, that's all."
She smiled. "So am I. Can you walk?"
He shook his head. "No. I can't even feel my head, let alone the rest of my body."
She frowned as her mind raced. "There's no way I can carry you. Maybe somebody heard the noise over here?"
"Belinda, where are you? Answer me, darling!"
"Devin, where in blazes are you?"
Belinda smiled and looked back at Devin. "It's all right. Help is coming. Just hang on."
He smiled weakly. "It sounds like my father is upset." His eyes fluttered closed and he relaxed in her grip with a sigh.
Footsteps rounded the wall and suddenly three people ran in. Her father and some man she did not know knelt beside her, looking anxiously at their injuries. Her mother, on the other hand, bent to get a better look at Devin.
"Honestly, daughter," she smiled, "although I will admit he is not a bad catch, did you really have to go through all this fuss to get him?"
Belinda chuckled. "He's worth it all. How did you find us?"
Her father grinned. "Well, Melinda Urnfire, once we heard the gates closing and you were nowhere to be found, we figured that you'd be in the maze. We met the duke on the way. Apparently he had lost a child in the commotion as well."
The unfamiliar man, once he was certain that Devin was alive, walked over to the fountain and picked up the tiny vase. "I take it this was the cause of all the fuss?"
Belinda smiled sheepishly. "You know what it is?"
He slowly nodded. "Indeed. But how do you know what it is?"
"Devin told me at the dance. He said I could help him with my aura."
"You mean your bad luck aura?"
"Bad luck?" Belinda leaned back. "But he said it was good luck."
"The two are easily mistaken, but you're definitely a jinx. You cause bad luck to the people around you, making it seem like you have good luck. I suppose you just rubbed off enough on the sorcerer to trip him up."
Belinda's shoulders slumped as she groaned. "And here I thought I was the heroine."
Her mother smiled. "Well, darling, at least you have a marvelous consolation prize. At least now I know why all the dishes break around you."
Devin moaned in his sleep and shifted in her grip.
"We need to get him somewhere safe," said the new man, who Belinda had deduced was Devin's father. "I don't think it's wise for any of us to be seen here."
Her own father nodded. "Our coach is waiting by the gate. It's large enough for all of us."
Devin's father knelt and gently took him into his arms. "For once, boy, I'm glad you're so thin."
Belinda stood and followed them as they maneuvered their way out of the maze. A few stray clouds blocked off the moon, and they were able to get away out of sight. After everything she had been through, Belinda was relieved to lean back and hold Devin in her arms as they rode back to her home. As soon as they arrived, they quickly set Devin in one of the guest rooms so he could sleep. Her parents wanted her to rest as well, but she insisted on watching over him. With a secret smile, her mother persuaded her father to agree, and soon she was alone with her sleeping friend.
Half an hour crept by. Belinda leaned back in the cushioned chair beside the bed, struggling to stay awake, when Devin suddenly opened his eyes. He sighed as he sat up, holding his head in his hands.
"Are you sure you should sit up?" she asked.
He smiled sleepily as he yawned. "I'm fine, don't worry. It's only a few scratches. Where are we?"
"My home," she told him. "In one of the guest rooms. Our parents are talking down stairs in the main hall."
"Talking? About what?"
She smiled softly. "I think they're drawing up the marriage agreement."
"The what?" he gasped in surprise, wide awake now. "For who?"
"For us. The moment Mother brought it up, they all seemed to like the idea."
He lowered his head. "And they couldn't be bothered asking our opinion?"
Belinda looked away. "Would it be so terrible?" she whispered.
Too late, Devin realized his blunder. He turned and leaned close to her, laying his hand on her cheek and turning her face towards him. "No, it wouldn't be terrible, it would be wonderful. It's just...so sudden. I didn't expect this, that's all."
"You should have," she smiled.
"Why? How could I have?"
"Your birthmark," she explained. "Your life would be affected by an evil you would bring about. Well, you caused the mess that brought us together, and now we're going to be married. I would say that affects your life, wouldn't you?"
Devin opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again. He gave her a strange look and smiled unexpectedly. "Who would've thought it? I thought it would be horrible. But Belinda, you're parents don't know what I am, or what my father is. They'd never let their only daughter marry into a sorcerer's house with a thief."
Belinda began to giggle. "I forgot. You don't know about my family. Devin, my daddy used to be a highwayman. My mother was an innkeeper's daughter before she ran off with him."
"But...they're so wealthy!" Devin protested.
She nodded. "Part of that is what my father stole, and the rest is what he invested in ships and caravans for the spice trade. A few good first years yielded everything else."
"But what could your family possibly get out of a marriage with mine?"
"A title and a royal coat of arms, for one," she said promptly. "Magic in a family doesn't hurt, and more lands is definitely a plus. And your family will benefit from our wealth. It's very simple."
He looked back down at the bed. "If you say so," he said uncertainly.
The door opened and Devin's father came in. "Don't try to explain anything to him, girl," he laughed. "I'm afraid he's very slow to understand things."
Devin gave him a crooked smile. "Yes, Belinda, I must admit, I take after my father in that respect." He sighed and looked up. "Is everything settled, then?"
"Indeed. All it requires is the King's approval and the wedding ceremony, and then you're officially chained down."
"That's a rather grim way to view marriage," Belinda commented in surprise.
"You'll understand it soon enough," the man said. He sighed and shook his head. "But at least you'll understand it. It doesn't take a genius to know which one of you will be the brains of this coupling."
"I'm not that stupid!" Devin protested indignantly.
"And you're not that bright, either. Or am I mistaken when I believe you went straight up to this girl and asked her help and told her everything about yourself?"
Devin looked down. His father was about to say something when Devin rolled his eyes.
"Yes, I knew I could trust her!" he burst. "I can hear her thoughts, remember?" There was a brief pause. "Look, if you don't want me hearing your mind, I'm sorry, but it's not like I have a choice, is it?"
His father crossed his arms, looking as irritated as his son. Belinda almost laughed out loud. The two were so identical that the resemblance was frightening.
They're like a couple of jesters,
she smiled to herself.Devin turned to her. "I'm sorry I've forgotten my motley, lady, but I'd rather not go around with bells jangling around my head." He groaned as he realized she had not said that out loud. "Sorry, sorry, sorry! I didn't mean to do that."
His father leaned against the wall. "I'll find a way to clear that up, Devin, I promise. That talent's going to get you in real trouble one of these days if I don't."
Devin nodded and sighed. Belinda could tell he needed something to take his mind off of his peculiarity, so she reached over to him and gripped his shoulder. A gentle thought slid into his mind, and he looked up in surprise. Then she thought of something else, following the line of his body down beneath the blankets, and his eyes widened. His hand went to his throat almost protectively as the next few explicit thoughts came to him. He looked for his father, but he had already disappeared and shut the door.
"Belinda, where are these thoughts--?"
Devin could not finish his sentence. She twined her fingers in his short hair and tilted his head back a bit so she could get a clear shot to his lips. As she stole a quick kiss, she sent him another thought. Now Devin relaxed and lay back on the bed, smiling as she lay down with him.
The End