Page 32 of Play of Shadows
The First Act
From the moment I took the stage, unruly drops of sweat began to drip down my forehead. The lanterns hanging from the ceilings seemed to be heating the air more than usual– or perhaps it was simply the fiery glares coming from the audience members. Barely a third of the house, just as Teo had said, they were leaning forward in their seats, looking as if they were waiting for a noose to slip around my neck and the floor to drop from beneath my feet.
Everything around me was painfully bright. That, too, I blamed on the lantern light reflecting the masses of emeralds, diamonds and even shimmering blue romantines adorning the throats, ears, wrists and fingers of the aristocrats presently gracing the Operato Belleza with their sullen presence.
It’s like having the sky beneath me rather than above,I thought, mesmerised by the gemstones shining like many-coloured stars, winking promises of unseemly rewards to come if the performance pleased the audience, and warnings of dire consequences should we fail.
But the first scenes unfolded with almost magical grace and poise. The battles were thrilling, the soliloquies enchanting. I made it through all four of my appearances without flubbing asingle line of Shoville’s deliberately ambiguous script. Moreover, my delivery, if not remarkable, was at least credible.
The rest of the cast were doing even better, adjusting to the twists and turns of the new play far better than in rehearsal. Some of them even looked to be enjoying themselves. Once or twice I dared to hope Abastrini had stopped resenting me in my role of Archduke Corbier.
Things were finally looking up for the Knights of the Curtain, and for me.
Then came the damned kiss.
As directed, I skulked in the shadows of the flimsy trees painted in unconvincing greens and browns. Half my attention was focused on not snagging my cloak on the fake branches, as I made a show of leering at Roslyn playing ‘Ajelaine’s Lament’ on her lute. I felt like an idiot.
In contrast, Roslyn was incandescent. She’d never been a particularly skilled musician or a powerful singer, but tonight the raw passion in her voice was bewitching. She had the entire audience – front of house and backstage – entranced. You could almost imagine it really was Lady Ajelaine sitting there at the edge of the forest outside Pierzi’s mighty fortress. Her voice poured out such longing for her absent prince that her despair filled the air, which made it easier for me to imagine myself as Archduke Corbier, lurking so near the object of my desires and yet unable to touch her.
That was the first sign something was going wrong.
A terrible sort of doomed love awakened in my chest, more potent than I’d ever felt before. I was in agony, every nerve in my body demanding to hold her, as if nothing else could soothe the ache inside me. I poured that pain into my silent performance, watching Ajelaine, listening to her song, lusting for her with increasing recklessness.
Then, just as she reached the final verse of the song and Iprepared to rise, Roslyn’s performance fell apart. Her voice, so insistent moments ago, lost the melody. Her hands kept strumming the lute, but the chords were muted, lifeless. She turned to face me.
What is she doing?I asked myself, confused, terrified I’d missed a cue or forgotten a line. I’d been too busy researching Corbier to eat; was that why I was suddenly so light-headed?
Ajelaine wasn’t supposed to see me in the shadows, but Roslyn, as she mouthed the final lines of her song, stared right at me, making it obvious to everyone that she could see Corbier crouched there. Worse, the look in her eyes wasn’t one of surprise and terror, but of melancholy longing, as if she stood upon the shore gazing at an island too far to reach.
The lights dimmed and the shadows spread across the stage.What in all the Hells are the crew up to now?I wondered helplessly. Was this some petty act of revenge to throw me off my game?Is this why Roz kissed me earlier? To trick me into making a mockery of my own role in the play and transforming Corbier from brutish assailant to comical, lovesick fool?
However bitter that conjecture, it made perfect sense. I had come to the Belleza an outsider, a thief come to steal their roles, and what else had I done this past year to earn my place in this family of actors, save to endanger their lives and careers? And yet, when I glanced up at the dimming lanterns, I could see the brass covers were still fully open.
Why is it so dark?
I shivered from a chill breeze I hadn’t noticed before. It wasn’t unusual for the air to move in strange ways on Belleza’s stage. The arrangement of the set, the vents to keep the auditorium from getting uncomfortably hot, the movement of the players – they could all cause unpredictable gusts of wind to sweep through the theatre.
It’s just dizziness, I told myself, but the stage was growingdarker by the second. The squeaking of the lanterns, the creaking of the boards, even the coughing and muttering of the audience grew distant, like echoes from somewhere far away. Soon all of it disappeared, except for the final words of Ajelaine’s song, ringing clear as a summoning bell.
At Summer’s End,
At Night’s Fall,
Pray not my Love,
Ignore my Call.
The last note was a whisper so close to my ear that Ajelaine could have been right beside me.
And the world went black.
Chapter 16
The Kiss
At first there was only the last note of the song, hanging precariously in the air like a teardrop from an eyelash, waiting to drift down cheeks already damp from the mist. The sensation of moisture clung, dampening his skin, fogging his breath. Corbier opened his eyes to find that it had been raining all day and now, at twilight, the mists had floated in from the lake, slicking the grass with heavy dew.
His boots were heavy with mud, from the long ride through the marshlands as much as the hours waiting here under the shadows of the trees at the edge of the field. In the distance, a mighty fortress loomed over this tiny patch of green like an angry father, its parapets clenched fists preparing to mete out punishments upon the child who’d dared to disobey his commands.
