Disenchanted

  She hiccupped and leaned back against the coach’s velvet cushions. “Ah, I think I can feel the elixir working already.”

  “I can’t.” Netta looked disconsolate as she upended the empty bottle. “You had far more than me, Amy, you greedy thing. You drank it all.”

  Amy’s only response to her sister’s complaint was a beatific smile that made me uneasy. I wondered what else Mal might have put in that potion of his besides rose hips. I heard Imelda draw breath to scold Amy but before she could do so, the coach lurched to a halt.

  “Goodness!” my stepmother said. “Surely we cannot have arrived already.”

  We all scooted across the seat to peer out our respective windows. I could ascertain little beyond the fact that we had stopped behind a pumpkin-styled carriage. I lowered the glass and leaned out as far as I could. By craning my neck, I could see we had joined a queue of coaches wending their way up the hill toward the palace gates. The carriages’ running lamps made it look like an orderly procession of fireflies on the march.

  Imelda tugged at my skirt. “Do come back inside and close the window, Ella, before you disarrange your hair.”

  I did as she asked and settled back against the cushions. While Em fussed over me, smoothing out my hair, I noticed my sisters perched on the edge of their seat.

  “You may as well relax, girls. It may be a while before we are able to alight. The entire kingdom appears to be on their way to the ball.”

  “Oh, dear,” Imelda said. “It is quite vulgar to be the first to arrive, but I hope we shall not be the last either.”

  “Don’t worry, Em. I’ll tackle whoever is in front and you and the girls can scramble over their bodies.”

  Amy and Netta giggled, but my stepmother gave me a long-suffering look.

  “I believe we discussed this, Prunella. You need to mind your tongue tonight and not blurt out some of the inappropriate thoughts that flit through your head.”

  “I will try,” I promised.

  “Try very hard, dear.”

  We traveled the rest of the way to the palace in a series of fits and starts until even I grew impatient. I thought we could have arrived much faster if we had disembarked and walked.

  Finally, our coach door swung open and Long Louie let down the steps. He bowed and stretched out his hand to help my stepmother down, but Imelda froze in the doorway.

  “This cannot be right,” she said. “We have stopped by the gates. Tell the coachman he must follow the drive so that we may alight by the palace steps.”

  “I am sorry, milady,” Louie replied. “But it appears that the king has forbidden it.”

  “Nonsense! Why should His Majesty do such a thing?”

  “I believe it is for reasons of security. The king does not wish any undesirable sort of persons sneaking into the ball.”

  Undesirable? Such as people who had not paid for their tickets or prospective thieves like me? I wondered.

  My stepmother, who is not a good walker, protested, “But it must be at least another mile to the castle. There was never such an order given before. How very strange and disagreeable!”

  I tugged at Imelda’s sleeve to gain her attention. “Please, Em. Clearly we have no choice and it is a very pleasant evening for a stroll.”

  Imelda looked far from pleased, but she made no further demur, allowing Louie to help her alight. My stepsisters came next, Amy nearly shoving her sister aside in her eagerness.

  I studied Amy, looking anxiously for any sign that Mal’s potion might have had some strange effect on her. She seemed a little flushed and her eyes glittered with excitement, but I supposed that was to be expected.

  As soon as my sisters had disembarked, I followed, clinging to Louie’s hand until I arrived safely on the pavement. After what Mal had told me about him, I was embarrassed to admit I had difficulty keeping my eyes from straying to his crotch.

  “We will be stabling the coach in the mews behind the palace,” Louie said. “If for any reason you should wish to depart early, you only need to send a page to fetch me.” He added in a lower tone meant for my ears alone, “Good luck, miss.”

  I gave him a startled look and he smiled reassuringly. It was obvious that Mal had trusted Louie with the secret of my mission tonight. I hoped Mal had been right to do so, but I was given little time to worry about that.

  Louis climbed back up onto his perch and our carriage lumbered off to make room for the next guests to alight. Gathering up the hem of my gown, I followed Imelda and my sisters. Moonlight glinted off the gleaming white walls that surrounded the royal park, the massive golden gates flung open in welcoming fashion.

  Imelda had exaggerated the distance to the palace. It appeared to be a quarter of a mile at most. Even from here, I could see the sweeping stairs that led up to a wide veranda. The palace beyond glowed with light, a romantic confection of towers and balustrades etched against the starry sky.

  The palace grounds sprawled before us, an endless maze of topiary bushes, lush gardens and burbling fountains. Lit by the moon and dozens of flaming torches, it was all as magical as my stepmother had promised. Or it would have been if not for the gauntlet of sentries lined up on both sides of the drive leading to the palace steps.

  They were all garbed in crisp red uniforms with brass buttons. Tall black shakos framed faces with stony countenances as they stood to attention, staring rigidly ahead. A few of them closest to the gates held the chains fastened to the collars of aura beasts.

  I had heard about these creatures from Mal, but had never had the misfortune to see one until now. Larger than Amy’s ponies, these furless cats were so pale, the veins throbbing beneath their skin were visible. With small, flattened back ears and narrowed eyes, the beasts stood as motionless as their handlers, but I shuddered, easily able to imagine how one of these cats could shred a person to ribbons at the slightest command.

  My stepmother halted just outside the gate, murmuring, “Oh dear. This is very different from what I remember.”

  I reflected that it likely had been very different when Imelda had attended royal balls in her youth. That would have been before our king’s tyrannical and greedy behavior had made him so many enemies that he had learned to be suspicious and fearful of his own subjects. Mal had warned me that security at the palace had tightened, but I had not anticipated anything like this. How had he ever imagined that I would be able to steal that orb and escape undetected?

  I knew the answer to that. Mal relied far too much on the fact that I had an unregistered aura and that those absurd glass shoes of his would render me invisible. Confronted by the army of sentries and those eerie cats, I seriously doubted my ability to keep my promise to Mal.

  I was not the only one daunted by the reception awaiting us beyond those gates. Imelda paled and my stepsisters clung to each other, even Amy’s eagerness dissipating. The other arriving guests were equally dismayed, their excited chatter fading to nervous murmurs. Everyone hung back, milling outside the gates despite a sentry’s gruff command for us to keep moving.

  Somehow I found myself leading the way. Plucking up my skirts and my courage, I marched down the drive. I had not taken many steps when a man with shoulder-length, silver-streaked black hair loomed before me. His gaunt frame was engulfed in a flowing dark robe with wide sleeves, the satin fabric glittering with mysterious symbols. In his right hand he clutched a strange object that was a cross between a wand and a scepter.

  I caught the whisper of someone in the crowd behind me. “The Great Mercato.”

  So this was the king’s chief wizard, the infamous mage who had designed the Aura Chamber to capture all of our auras. He did indeed appear formidable with his pointed beard and cold narrow eyes, but I was not intimidated. I found his garb as outlandish as the way he dramatically pointed his scepter in the direction of the uneasy guests. It was as though he was trying too hard to convince everyone how powerful and important he was. I even had to bite back a smile when I recalled what Mal had told me of his
true name.

  I suppressed the urge to greet him with a cheerful “Good evening, Sidney.” I had promised Imelda to mind my tongue tonight and whatever Sidney Greenleaf chose to call himself, it was unwise to trifle with such a man.

  A tall young sentry stood by his side, trying hard to look just as stone-faced, but his countenance was far too sweet and boyish for him to maintain such a stern demeanor.

  “Tickets, please, miss,” he said in clipped accents.

  Imelda had insisted upon taking charge of the tickets herself. I glanced around for her, hoping she had not forgotten to bring them. My stepmother crept forward, trembling as she handed the costly vouchers to the young guard.

  While he inspected them, Mercato’s ice-chip eyes remained fixed on me. I stared back, summoning up my sweetest smile. Suddenly the stone on the end of his scepter flashed bright blue. Mercato reared back. He leveled an accusing finger and thundered, “Witch!”

  My heart thudded as I started to stammer, “No, I assure you I—” I broke off when I realized he was not pointing at me, but at someone beyond my shoulder. I turned around to discover the crowd of guests behind me shrinking away from the strange woman who was the focus of Mercato’s angry gesture.

  Delphine.

  I blinked in astonished recognition. The witch’s thin neck hardly seemed capable of supporting the elaborate mountain of orange-red hair piled on top of her head. Whatever exquisite taste Delphine had employed when fashioning my gown had not carried over to her own attire. A scarlet gown that consisted of tiers and tiers of ruffles cut low across her bosom, leaving her thin shoulders completely bare.

  Mercato shoved me out of the way as he cried out again, “Witch! Guards, seize that woman.”

  Sentries sprang to life, the aura beasts setting up a fearsome growl. The guests closest to Delphine cried out in fear, scrambling to get out of the way of the advancing soldiers. The only one unperturbed was the witch herself.

  “Oh frap,” Delphine muttered and flung something at the ground. Suddenly we were enveloped in a blinding white cloud thicker than any fog I had ever experienced in Misty Bottoms.

  Guests screamed, the cats snarled and Mercato cursed. Above this chaos of sound, I heard my sisters’ frightened cries and I tried to grope my way toward them. But I felt my wrist seized in an iron grip. Suddenly I was standing nose to nose with Delphine.

  “Listen,” she hissed. “I thought I might be of use if I could get past Mercato’s dratted alarm, but obviously I can’t. So you are on your own, girlie. Mal is counting on you, so don’t fail him. Or else!”

  “Or else what?” I asked, wrenching away from her.

  I watched in alarm as her hair darkened to an ominous shade of black. Her face darkened as well, gradually becoming…furry? My jaw dropped as Delphine sprouted whiskers, her head getting smaller and smaller. She appeared to dwindle and disappear before my astonished eyes.

  As the thick white cloud began to dissipate, I gaped at the witch’s discarded gown pooling at my feet. The scarlet ruffles stirred and Ebony emerged. The cat glared at me for a second before streaking off with a flit of her tail.

  My mind reeled, unable to accept what I had just witnessed. I bent down to pick up the gown, shaking it as though I still expected to find some trace of Delphine. Besides the scarlet gown, nothing remained but a heap of petticoats and a pair of red dancing slippers. Not even a pair of drawers, a chemise or stays, I was scandalized to discover and—What was wrong with me? I had just watched a woman transform herself into a cat and I was shocked to realize she did not wear undergarments?

  I gave my befuddled head a shake in an effort to clear it. As the last of the mist disappeared, Mercato bore down upon me and snatched the gown from my hands.

  “Where is she? Where did she go?” he demanded.

  “I-I don’t know,” I stammered, because I truly did not. It would sound completely mad to say Delphine had turned into a cat. Perhaps the strange mist had wreaked havoc with my mind.

  “I just found her gown discarded there,” I said. “As though she just vanished.”

  Mercato glowered at me as though he suspected I was lying. “No one can simply disappear, young woman. Not even the most powerful—”

  “Sir!”

  Mercato whipped around to glare at the burly sentry who had dared interrupt him. As the guard struggled to keep his aura beast under control, he blurted out, “Sir, the cat has picked up the trace of the witch’s aura. I think she escaped out the gates.”

  “Get after her then,” Mercato growled.

  The aura cat snarled its agreement, so eager to take up the pursuit, it nearly yanked the guard’s arm from his socket. Still the guard hung back, casting a dubious look at the gown clutched in Mercato’s hands.

  “How will we find her, sir, even with the aid of the aura beasts? Has she turned invisible?”

  “No! Don’t be a frapping idiot! No one can do that!”

  I thought someone should have informed Mal of that before he wasted his time fashioning useless glass shoes.

  The guard gulped. “Then the witch is running through the Heights…er…unclad?”

  Mercato scowled at the discarded red gown. “It would seem so. The creature must be completely demented, but that is of no consequence. Track down her mad, bare arse and arrest her.”

  The sentry looked less than enthusiastic about hunting for a scrawny, naked witch, but he had no choice but to obey. He summoned another aura cat handler and several more guards to accompany him. Newly arriving guests shoved each other in an effort to get out of the way as the search party raced out of the gates.

  I experienced a moment of alarm for Delphine, but upon reflection, I figured that any woman who could produce a blinding mist and transform herself into a cat would have no trouble eluding a handful of sentries and a couple of aura beasts.

  Backing away from Mercato, I went in search of my family. The drive leading to the castle was still in a state of chaos, ladies weeping or fanning themselves, gentlemen retrieving hats that had been lost in the panic, alarmed guards milling about. One young girl had actually fainted (although thankfully not in the presence of royalty) and was being revived by her anxious mama.

  I spotted Imelda and Amy trying to soothe Netta, who was sobbing. “This is all horrid and f-frightening, n-nothing like you said it would be, Mama. Where is Ella? I just w-want to go home.”

  As I hastened toward them, I was in complete agreement with Netta’s sentiments. Stealing the orb struck me as a hopeless proposition. Mal would surely understand if I could not do it.

  Perhaps Mal would, but what about Delphine?

  Mal is counting on you, so don’t fail him. Or else!

  I shivered as I recalled Delphine’s fierce threat, wondering exactly what she meant by that. I had this horrible vision of her turning me into a mouse and gleefully pursuing me in her guise as Ebony. I could almost feel the stab of her claws and her sharp teeth chomping down on my poor little tail.

  Mal would not allow her to harm me, but I wondered if he had any idea of the full range of Delphine’s abilities. Considering the number of times he had allowed Ebony to curl up on his lap, I suspected he had been unaware it was actually Delphine he was petting. I could not wait to see the expression on Mal’s face when I told him.

  By the time I reached Netta, she had stopped crying. She was being comforted by the fresh-faced young guard who had taken our tickets.

  “I am so sorry, miss. I know that witch was terribly unsettling, but she is gone now, so there is nothing to be frightened of. Everything will be better once you have entered the palace and the ball commences. Truly, you are going to have a wonderful time.”

  “T-thank you.” Netta sniffed. Glancing up at the young guard, she froze. Perhaps it was merely the novelty of finding a man tall enough that she had to tip back her head to look at him or she was struck by the kindness in his eyes. The sentry appeared equally struck, staring at Netta with such a dazed look, I started to wonder if Mal’s
potion worked after all.

  More likely it was because Netta was one of those rare females who did not come over all blotchy when she had been crying. If anything she looked even prettier, her eyes luminous, moisture still clinging to the tips of her long lashes.

  I have no idea how long the two of them might have remained drinking each other in, but the tender moment was disrupted by Mercato snarling at the sentry.

  “Sergeant Wharton! Return to your post at once. Ladies! Be on your way to the palace.”

  The sergeant snapped to obey and we all did likewise, although as we moved down the drive, Netta kept turning her head for another look back.

  Imelda took Netta firmly in hand, propelling her forward. I am sure it did not figure in her plans for one of her daughters to become smitten with a handsome castle guard. As we mounted the stairs to the veranda, I could not resist murmuring to my stepmother, “Well, Em, you did promise that this would be a magical evening.”

  Imelda grimaced. “Witches and impertinent young sentries were not what I had in mind. I pray there are no more surprises in store for us.”

  I heartily agreed with her. As we approached the palace doors, it was a relief to find no more stony-faced guards or ferocious aura beasts blocking our way. Two bewigged footmen bowed and bid us welcome as they swept the doors open.

  Even Netta beamed with delight as we entered the ballroom. It was just as Em had promised it would be, the glittering chandeliers, the garland-draped marble pillars and the scrape of violins as the royal musicians tuned their instruments.

  The ballroom was so crowded, I did not know how we were going to move, let alone dance. I was doubly glad I had not worn those glass slippers because my toes were stepped upon more than once. My unusual gown did not attract the attention that I feared it would. I noticed many of the aristocratic ladies from the Heights were also wearing the costly river silk in varying hues. Unlike me, they were dripping with jewels, which detracted from the beauty of their gowns. The dresses I had sewn for Netta, Amy and Imelda were just as elegant if not more so because of their simplicity. I could not help noting with pride that my two sisters were among the loveliest girls present.