The Mirk and Midnight Hour (28 page)

We stopped just outside the glow and peeked around a trunk.

Beneath the great gray-barked central tree, on tall-backed thrones woven of straw, sat Dr. VanZeldt, beaming benevolently, his white suit glowing. Beside him was a very old woman. Somehow I knew she was ancient, even though there were few of the outward signs associated with age. She sat ramrod straight, her cheekbones chiseled and her eyes deep set and hollow. A headdress of leaves looped down over her forehead, and she wore a long skirt of golden cloth. If she had on a blouse, I could not see it because of layers of violent-colored beads that began high on her neck and continued down to her waist. Her bare, bony arms gestured to the music in undulating, serpentine motions. It was she who sang in some mysterious language and whose voice mingled with the drumming to rouse my primal Violet.

The bearded VanZeldt servant sat on a stump, hunched over two hourglass-shaped drums, his long, supple hands beating faster and faster. Round and round the fire whirled the other, younger man, clothed in a bright-colored loincloth, with bands of feathers about his calves that swirled as he moved. His perfectly honed muscles
undulated and rippled. His stomach contracted and released. He performed wheeling kicks and low crouches. He stamped and made jerky, whiplashed movements with his elongated neck, tossing the feathers on his headdress.

My blood ran quicker as I watched.

The fire was so dazzling that all beyond it loomed black. If I looked off yonder, the radiance still burned in my eyes. Inside the hissing blaze, wavering dancers of flame darted and twisted, seeming to echo the man’s movements. Herbs must have been thrown into the fire because the clearing exuded a heady, pungent aroma that mingled with the smell of smoke and burning sap. I swayed a little on my feet as I breathed it in.

The dancer snatched up a clay pot and dashed some dark liquid against the silvery trunk of the central tree. At that moment, out of the darkness on the other side, Amenze materialized. She wore a headdress of beads and feathers, a short grass skirt, a band of cloth over her breasts, and rattles of shells about her wrists, ankles, and neck. Her dancing began slow and seductive, but quickened to a feverish pitch when she joined the man, leaping and turning in amazing, explosive physical feats.

Seeley shivered. His face lifted to mine, rapt. I nodded faintly. The sounds and the moonlight, starlight, and firelight made the air hotter and more intense and more stirring to our souls until it seemed we could hardly contain it. These movements were wild, alien, pagan, and so full of joy that they tugged at me nearly irresistibly. A silent whisper slid through the sticky, sparkling air: “Come, join, dance.” I gripped the tree trunk so hard my nails dug into the bark.

From the shadows beside us, a small figure emerged. Green stripes on a skirt writhed in the flickering light. Sparrow.

As the little girl tensed, ready to spring out into the clearing, Seeley and I both gasped. I reached for her, but Seeley was faster. His arm shot out and grabbed Sparrow’s arm. She jerked backward. I wrapped my arms around them both and held tight.

Sparrow hardly seemed to notice us, in spite of the fact that we were pressed close. As she watched Amenze spin like a top, she threw back her head and laughed. Her eyes and teeth flashed white within the cloud of black hair.

The drumming ceased suddenly and the two dancers dropped to the ground, seeming to melt into it.

I was left limp and exhausted. Sparrow’s breath was heaving.

The men and Amenze rose and with that familiar smooth, boneless VanZeldt stride made their way up to the thrones. The old woman held a carved cup, which she handed first to one, then to another, and each took a sip. They laughed and drank more.

No one doused the fire. Dr. VanZeldt and the old woman stood, and the menservants hefted the straw chairs. I waited while they all disappeared from view.

As soon as they were gone, I pulled Seeley and Sparrow deeper into the trees. I sank to my knees and put my hands on Sparrow’s shoulders. “What are you doing out so late?”

She did not answer me.

“Is she all right?” Seeley whispered.

Sparrow’s head drooped. Tears shone on her cheeks. “So beautiful,” she breathed.

“They were the People Things,” Seeley said. “They
were
beautiful, but you shouldn’t ought to have tried to dance with them.”

“People Things,” she said. “Why was I a-scared of them before?”

I spoke with difficulty. “We don’t know what they are. They may be very, very bad. You mustn’t ever go near them again, you hear?”

The moon was reflected in her eyes as she arose. “If them drums call, I got to answer. I got to.”

I clutched her hands tightly as I looked her in the face. “You
don’t
have to. We’re going to walk you partway home now, Sparrow.”

After a bit she nodded. I took both the children’s hands and we made our way through the trees. At first Sparrow dragged, still bewitched. Gradually, though, her steps lightened, and soon she was leading us, tugging at my hand.

I asked my question once more. “What were you doing out so late?”

“ ’Twas the moonlight,” she said. “It seemed almost daytime. And then I could feel the drums even before I could hear them, so I went further than I meant to.”

I was glad she didn’t ask what we were doing out in the night. I didn’t want to explain that Seeley and I were about to go to the Lodge without her.

“Will you go straight home if we leave you now?” I asked.

“Yes’m.”

The moment I dropped her hand, she was off twining through the trees so swiftly that she probably didn’t hear Seeley say softly, “Good night, Sparrow.”

We hurried to the Lodge, not even considering that, because of the lateness of the hour, we should have headed home. More than
ever, the Lodge resembled a fairy-tale cottage as it stood bathed in moonlight. We stumbled through the front room. I paused inside the doorway to Thomas’s chamber.

There he lay asleep, a bar of moonlight from the window shining across his face. He looked younger and more vulnerable, somehow
softer
than when he was awake.

Seeley gave me a little push.

“Thomas,” I whispered.

He scrambled to sit up. “Violet?”

“Yes,” I said, “it’s us. Don’t worry. There’s no emergency. I don’t really know why we’re here, but we are.”

He laughed a sleepy laugh. “Welcome.”

“We saw the VanZeldts dance,” Seeley said.

“You what?”

“Just now,” Seeley said, “in the clearing with the fire. We hid behind trees while the VanZeldts jumped around to the drums. Sparrow was there too.”

“Sparrow?” Thomas said sharply.

“Yes,” I said. “She must have been wandering close enough that the music drew her there. I don’t know what to do about it. What if she begins to seek them out?”

“You must warn her grandmother,” Thomas said.

His calm, quiet tone eased my jangled nerves. “You’re right. I’ll visit Anarchy tomorrow.”

He yawned and stretched. “I must have sensed the rhythm in my sleep. Dreamed I was dancing.” He leaned forward. “Will you help me get up? All I can make out is your silhouettes. Let’s go outside, where I can see you better.”

I gripped his arm and heaved to help him rise. He was nearly standing when his legs gave way; he fell back on his bed, and I tumbled on top of him. I would have scrambled off, but his arms held me tightly.

“Are you all right?” I cried. “Did I hurt you?”

“I’m very all right. How about you?”

Seeley snorted. “You’re both fine. Here, let me help this time.”

I rolled off and we moved awkwardly out of the Lodge, arms entwined. Through the distant trees the bonfire still winked.

“Let’s go back over there,” Seeley said. “I want Thomas to sit by the fire.”

“I don’t guess they’ll be coming again tonight,” I said doubtfully. “And they couldn’t see the fire from Shadowlawn.” I looked at Thomas and then quickly away because his face was so very close, with his dark hair curled around his ears in an especially enticing manner. “Can you make it that far?”

“Where are my sticks?”

Seeley hurried to fetch them.

And so, beneath the sharp sparkle of stars, we made our way to the clearing, where the blaze had died down to low flames licking black logs. The great tree loomed above us, its trunk and leaves pale and unearthly, outlined with moon silver. Seeley dashed in and out of the edge of the trees, gathering brushwood to toss in and build up the fire. I, meanwhile, helped Thomas lower himself to the ground with his back against a trunk a ways from the ring of stones, where we wouldn’t be too hot. I settled down beside him, trying to arrange my frilled petticoat and hoop and skirt to one side. I had
forgotten I was still wearing the blue taffeta, which was hopelessly splattered and snagged by now.

“Hoopskirts,” I said, “are not made for sitting on the ground.”

“They look nice, though,” Thomas said. “And you look especially pretty in that dress. Your cousin and all the Sece—soldiers at the dance must have thought so too.”

I smiled toward the darkness. “Well, I did dance all the dances. But then, there were a lot more men than women, so that’s not saying much.”

“No. Admit it—they were vying for your attention. I’m just glad I wasn’t there to have to share you.”

“We left early, actually, and it was a good thing because Seeley was fixing to come here all by himself. I caught him just as he was about to climb in the canoe.”

“Well, I’m sorry your fun was cut short, but I’m glad you came.”

I gave a happy little sigh. “This is exactly where I want to be.”

Thomas’s fingers lay close to mine on the ground and I was acutely aware of them. My hand felt twitchy, drawn to his. I fought it.

“You should’ve seen the VanZeldts dance,” I said. “The picture of pagan and free and glorious. Compared with them, our finicky, stodgy motions at the bazaar seem absurd. There needs to be another word for what they did, if reels and waltzes are called ‘dancing.’ ”

“If I hear the drums again, maybe I’ll sneak near enough to watch.”

“Too risky. We shouldn’t have done it.”

Once the fire was going well, Seeley settled himself down cross-legged beside us. “Tell us a campfire story, Thomas.”

“The night does call for it, doesn’t it?” Thomas seemed to consider. “Do you want to hear how one time Heath Blackstock was nearly the main dish of the fat dragon Nebo? Or how long ago I stole a fairy princess from the cave of a demon king and lived to tell the tale?”

Seeley laughed. “How did you do that when you were busy grading lessons at school?”

“During recess, of course. But you’re right. I’m remembering it wrong—it was actually the princess who rescued
me
; it wasn’t a cave, it was a lodge; and it wasn’t all that long ago.”

Seeley jumped up again. “The dragon one, but not yet. The fire’s not big enough. I want it as high as the VanZeldts had it.”

“How far is Shadowlawn from here?” Thomas asked.

“About a mile,” I answered. “No one there would be able to see it. Especially with the forest between.”

Seeley scurried off into the shadows and soon returned with an armful of branches. Spurts of red-gold shot upward as he tossed them in. He took a long pole that was leaning against a tree and poked at the coals. There was something primitive and otherworldly about Seeley there, with his pointed chin and tense, sharp-edged body in the wriggling firelight.

I leaned forward. “Look at him. He could be an elf or a godlet stirring a cauldron, couldn’t he?”

Thomas didn’t answer. I glanced back. His eyes followed my cousin, but the expression on his face showed that his thoughts were elsewhere. I wanted to know what he was thinking, but I didn’t dare ask.

He felt my gaze and turned. His eyes shone darkly. He shifted
and his hand touched mine. Neither of us pulled away. I scarcely breathed. He slid his fingers through mine.

We sat in silence. Maybe the air still held fumes from the VanZeldt herbs. Maybe that lent to the magic. The night was full of an eerie beauty as the great darkness closed around. When I tore my eyes from the fire, I could look up, up, up into the incredible vastness of the universe. It made me dizzy, and my head swam so that I swayed. Next thing I knew, Thomas had drawn me close and his arms were so tight I could feel his heart pounding. He kissed me, hesitantly at first, but then long and sweet and soft. Just a little salty. It felt as if I were soaring upward with the sparks, a part of the vastness. I wanted to memorize this moment, this first time.

We finally drew slightly apart. He brushed my hair back from my ear so he could whisper, “You know I love you.”

“I hoped so,” I said softly. “I didn’t know, but I hoped so.”

He stroked my back, and that place tingled warm. I was no “ice maiden” now. I raised my face so he could kiss me again, and he did.

After a while I managed to pull away enough to murmur, “I love you too.”

The next time we parted for breath, I whispered, “I have never said those words to another person and I have never kissed another man.”

“I’m glad.”

I wondered how many girls he had embraced.

“You’re probably wondering,” he said, “so I’ll tell you the truth—it was my first kiss too. Which is surprising, old as I am. I never had much time for romance before. I wanted to be in love for it, so I waited until I was in love.”

“Good.” Sunny had desired an experienced man. I was the opposite. I wanted Thomas to learn right along with me. I wanted him just as he was. And our first-time kiss had been flawless.

“Is the beard unpleasant to you?”

“Everything about you is perfect.”

“Well, hopefully you’ll like me just as well when I’m not so bushy,” he said. “And this is awfully unromantic, but I’m glad there was a toothbrush and tooth powder with the other things you brought me.”

I giggled. “Me too.”

“Part of the reason I haven’t wanted to leave this place, that I haven’t been anxious to heal completely, is that I don’t ever want to be far from you. I don’t want this time to end.”

“Nor do I, but I know it can’t last forever. I’m both happy and sad that you’re doing so well. Another few weeks and it’ll be time for you to go, even though I don’t like to think of it.”