The bed sagged as the wolf climbed up; the linens rustled. I stared into darkness and listened to the beat of my heart.
Finally I said, “I shouldn’t have tricked you like that. I shouldn’t have pulled you into the book-mirror against your will. I’m sorry.”
His breathing sounded quick and shallow from the other side of the bed. “The fault is mine, Lady Echo.”
I listened to the darkness, felt the immensity of the divide between us, though we were separated by mere inches. “Why won’t you let me help you?”
“Because no one can. Stop trying. Stop pretending you care about what happens to me. Stop behaving as if we are friends.”
His words stung like wasps. “Then what are we?”
“I am the demon who tricked you,” he spat. “You are my prisoner.”
I gnawed on my lip to keep from crying. Silence swallowed me whole.
The minutes stretched on. Tears dampened my pillow. “You are my friend, you know. No matter what you say. You’ve been watching over me my whole life. I trust you.”
The wolf made a sound halfway between a sob and a snarl. “My lady, you should not.”
“But I do.”
The darkness pressed in and in. We didn’t say anything more.
Somehow, I slept.
Deep in the night I woke to deep, muffled sobs that made the whole bed shake.
I wondered how a wolf could cry like that, and sound so very human as he did so.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
AFTER HALF A DOZEN LESSONS, MOKOSHinformed me that my dancing was so much improved, we had better put it to good use and attend a ball. “Meet me inThe Masque of Adella!” she said merrily as her book-mirror home wavered into existence. “Tomorrow afternoon! Bring something fancy to wear—I hear there will be princes in attendance!” And then she stepped through her mirror and vanished.
I told myself I hadn’t firmly decided whether or not I would join her, and yet, the next afternoon, I went directly to the library and asked the house to provide me with a selection of gowns. Three giant wardrobes appeared in a semicircle around me, filled to the brim with rustling silks and satins, sequins and jewels and embroidery. I looked through all of them, running my hands along the delicate fabrics, pulling out the occasional gown to get a better view of it in the light.
I hadn’t seen the wolf since I’d forced him into the book-mirror more than a week ago—he hadn’t come to give me my lesson, or appeared in the dining room. Every night he climbed into bed after I’d blown out the lamp, and every morning when I woke he was gone again. I had been tending the house on my own, wracked with guilt.
One of the gowns made my breath catch, and I slipped it off the hanger. It was pale gold and embroidered with metal thread, and had a lower-cut neckline than I was used to. The sleeves looked like puffs of confectioner’s cream. It whispered tantalizingly against my arms.
I turned to the book-mirror, touched the glass.
I stepped directly into Lady Adella’s dressing room, where Mokosh sat waiting for me on a red velvet chaise longue.
“Echo!” She leapt up and spun me about in a tight hug, then pulled away to examine the gold dress I’d brought. “Oh, it’s stunning. Just the thing. You’ll outshine Adella herself tonight!” She glanced sideways at the small army of Adella’s frowning maids, and stifled a giggle behind her hand.
The maids set the three of us—Mokosh, myself, and Adella, who was a pale, dark-eyed beauty—side by side in front of a trio of large, ornate mirrors, and got to work. They slipped me into a silk chemise, which lay smooth and cool against my skin, and then a bone corset, cinching the laces just tight enough that I felt secure, like I was clothed in armor, but not so tight I couldn’t breathe. After that came the gown, and it settled around me like it had been sewn in my exact measurements—which, knowing the house, I supposed was quite likely.
The maids braided my hair with gold thread and white ostrich feathers, and then hung a strand of flashing sapphires around my neck. Last of all came the masque, tied on with silk ribbons. I was resplendent in starlight, my dark hair contrasting starkly with the gold gown and white masque. I turned to Mokosh for approval.
She wore a deep violet gown sewed with opalescent shells that shifted blue or green or silver, depending on how they hit the light. There were strands of pearls in her hair, and her masque shone with silver scales.
“Beautiful!” we both exclaimed at the same time.
Mokosh laughed and grasped my hands, and we looked to Adella, to see how her toilette compared. She was dressed in the dark regal colors and masque of a peacock, but she was crying behind all the feathers and sequins.
“Her betrothal is tonight,” Mokosh whispered to me, “to a man she’s sworn she can never love. It’s all delightfully tragic.”
But I was too excited to feel terribly sorry for Lady Adella.
