Wildwood Dancing Page 22

“Come on,” I said, a little disheartened. “You must be able to think of one good thing.”

  Sleeping on our pillow, side by side.

  “Mmm-hm.” His choice surprised me. “If I go a long way back, my memory’s full of good things. We used to fill up the day with adventures. Skating in winter—not on the Deadwash, of course—and swimming in summer, though we weren’t actually supposed to, not when we were playing with Costi and Cezar. Aunt Bogdana had the idea that it wasn’t appropriate for boys and girls to strip off their clothes and swim together, even though we were only little.”

  She thought you’d catch cold.

  “How could you know that? I bet you weren’t even born then.”

  No response.

  “Actually,” I told him, “you’re probably right. Aunt Bogdana adored Costi. I suppose I was lucky she let him out to play at all.”

  Green.

  “What?”

  Nice things. Green is nice. Your green gown with the deep pocket.

  I smiled and stroked his back with my finger. “Gogu,” I asked him, “do you think I’ve been unfair to Cezar? He was all right as a little boy. But he’s grown up so obnoxious and so sure of himself and … well, I am actually quite scared of him. He’s so much bigger and stronger than any of us, and people don’t stand up to him when they should.”

  A pause, then: I thought we were only talking about things we like. Your brown hair, so soft—lovely to hide in.

  “Hmm,” I murmured, surprised again. I wasn’t sure how I felt about this description, which would have been apt for a favorite bit of undergrowth. “Father coming home. That’ll be the best thing of all. Father coming home fit and well—and soon.”

  True love.

  I lifted my head off the musty cushion and stared at him. “True love is looking less and less likely, if it’s my future you’re talking about,” I said. “Or do you mean Tati and Sorrow? That’s not a good thing—it’s a disaster waiting to happen. We weren’t meant to be talking about that.”

  True love is the best thing. It’s the thing that makes troubles go away.

  “Even for frogs?” I couldn’t help asking.

  Gogu’s eyes closed to slits, and he went silent on me.

  “Gogu, I was joking,” I said, sitting up and, in the process, dislodging him onto the fur rug. “I know you’re not an ordinary frog. It’s just that …”

  He hopped off the rug and concealed himself somewhere on the elaborate mosaic floor, which was patterned with tiny dragons. In the muted blues and greens and grays of the tiling, I could see nothing of him.

  “Gogu,” I said, “come out, please. There’s enough trouble right now without you and me getting cross with each other. If I upset you, I’m sorry.”

  Not a twitch.

  “Gogu,” I said, kneeling on the tiles and waiting for him to move so I could pounce, “if you would tell me what you are and where you come from, it might make things between us far easier. You’ve never said. You’ve never given me even the tiniest clue. We’re supposed to trust each other better than anyone, aren’t we? Surely it would be easy enough just to say. I always tell you the truth.” I realized that this was no longer accurate: I had not told him much at all about my visit to Tadeusz’s dark revels. I had not told him about the young man in the mirror, or about what Anastasia had said to me. He’d been too upset and too angry with me to hear it. As for what he really was, I had long ago given up trying to guess. To me he was simply Gogu, and perfect just as he was. It was a shame he was increasingly unhappy with that. “If you don’t like it when I treat you as a frog,” I went on, “maybe you should be honest with me and tell me exactly what you are.”

  He made no appearance. His mind remained shut tight against me. Gogu was expert at camouflage. It took a hammering at the door to startle him into moving; I picked him up, my heart thumping, and went to open it. Paula was standing outside, her expression anxious.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you,” she said. “I know you probably came up here to be by yourself. But Florica’s crying. I know Cezar’s been asking her questions. She’s really upset, Jena. I heard her say something about leaving Piscul Dracului. I think you’d better come.”

  In the kitchen, Florica was shaping rolls on the table while Stela made little dogs and gnomes and trees out of the scraps. Our housekeeper’s distress was obvious. Her eyes were red and swollen and she would not look up at me, even when I spoke to her by name. As she lifted a roll from the table to the tray, I could see her hands shaking. Iulia, who was feeding wood into the stove, gave me a meaningful look as I came in. They were all expecting me to put things right. It was alarming that my family still had such faith in my ability to solve problems—thus far, I had been a woeful failure.

  “Florica,” I said, coming over to sit at the table, “what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, Mistress Jenica.” The formality of this address told me that something was badly amiss.

  “Come on, Florica, tell me. You’ve been crying. It is something.”

  Florica muttered a few words about not getting us into trouble and not making things any worse. A moment later she sat down abruptly, her shoulders shaking.

  “He said …”

  “What, Florica?”

  “Master Cezar’s been asking questions around the valley—trying to find out about things so he can go ahead with these plans of his. Someone mentioned Full Moon to him, Jena—told him that was a time when barriers were open. He’s taken it into his head that you and Mistress Tati know something you’re not telling him.”

  “Why would this upset you so much, Florica?” I had taken over the task of forming the dough into rolls while Iulia had started brewing tea. Stela put a small arm around Florica’s shoulders.

  “He said if we didn’t tell him everything we knew, he’d see that we lost our places here. He said we were too old to work. I’ve been here since I was fifteen, Mistress Jena. Petru’s been in the valley even longer. We’ve given good service all our lives. Piscul Dracului is our home. And Ivan has enough mouths to feed already—we can’t expect him to take us in as well. Master Cezar wouldn’t really send us away, would he?”

  “Father’s still the head of this household,” I told her firmly. “You know he’d never send you or Petru away. You belong here. Florica, if you’ve told Cezar something, you’d better let us know what it was.”

  “He asked about Full Moon: whether you went out at night, whether there had been folk hanging about in the woods, odd folk. I said no, that Full Moon was a night when you girls kept to your bedchamber, and that there was never a peep out of you, although you always seemed tired the next morning. I shouldn’t have told him that. I could see the look on his face. He’s going to use it against you—against all of us. Such men have no understanding of the old things.”

  “Florica?” asked Paula in a whisper. “You know, don’t you?”

  “Hush,” I said quickly, seeing the look on our housekeeper’s face, a look of sheer terror. “We won’t speak of that. Florica, what’s done is done: don’t feel guilty about it. If there’s anyone who should feel guilty it’s Cezar, for browbeating you like that. Tell Petru that if Cezar tries to make you leave, it’ll be over my dead body.”

  “You’re only a young thing, Jena. How can you do it? If your father never comes back—”

  “He will come back.” I had seen Stela’s face. “He’s just not sending letters, because of the winter. In springtime everything will be back to normal. And I will stop Cezar from doing what he threatened. He can’t send you away. It’s not right.”

  I went straight to find Cezar, knowing that the longer I delayed the confrontation, the harder it was going to be. He was in Father’s workroom, but he did not seem to be doing anything in particular. He was simply sitting at the desk, brooding. I could not look at him without remembering that kiss—and before I had even begun to speak, I was afraid.

  “Jena,” Cezar said coolly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

 
Pleasure? Not for us. Gogu was sitting on my shoulder. Not wanting to draw undue attention to him, I left him there.

  “I need to ask you about something, Cezar.”

  “Sit down, Jena. What is it?” There was a little smile on his face, as if he had a secret.

  “I’ve just spoken to Florica. She and Petru say you threatened to turn them out of Piscul Dracului if they didn’t answer your questions—questions about me and my sisters. Is that true?”

  Cezar leaned back in his chair, arms folded, eyes on my face. “You need younger staff here,” he said mildly. “No wonder you got into such difficulty this winter. I know girls are softhearted and become attached to their old servants, but really, Jena, those two are long past being useful to you. They should be retired, like worn-out horses put to pasture. Don’t look like that; it’s a perfectly practical suggestion. They’ve a grandson in the settlement, haven’t they? Let their own provide for them.”

  “If it is only a suggestion, not an order, that’s all right,” I said. “Florica and Petru are part of our family. They’re not going anywhere—not while I’m in charge here.”

  He looked at me as if waiting for me to realize that I was speaking nonsense.

  “Do I need to tell you again that my father has not died, and that he asked me and Tati to oversee things at Piscul Dracului until he came back?” I tried to keep my voice calm. “You don’t seem to have recognized that yet, Cezar. Nobody asked you to take over the funds. Nobody asked you to move in here. Nobody asked you to ban me from having anything to do with the business. And nobody asked you to browbeat Florica and Petru. If you have questions about Full Moon, I’m the one you need to speak to. Leave the others alone.”

  “Jena, what is your interpretation of your father’s failure to send a single letter during all this time away?”

  I felt cold. “He’s unwell, I know that. He did get worse, as Gabriel told us. That doesn’t mean he won’t get better, Cezar. Once the weather improves, I’m sure a letter will come advising us of that.”

  “You’d be wiser to prepare yourself and your sisters for the worst,” Cezar said. “That would include moderating your behavior, Jena. I’m not just referring to your outspokenness, your desire to hold all the strings, your wayward choice of that wretched creature”—he eyed Gogu—“as a constant companion. I mean much more than that. I was deeply shocked to see you and Tatiana out in the courtyard that night, looking as if you’d just come in from running about in the forest. I was still more alarmed when the questions I asked, both here and in the valley, elicited the information that one can somehow cross over to the realm of the fairy folk and back again on the night of Full Moon. Florica tells me that’s a night you girls always spend on your own, in your bedchamber, behind locked doors. So quiet, she said, that you might almost not be there at all.”

  I said nothing. I had my hands tightly clasped together behind my back. I was glad Cezar could not feel how fast my heart was beating. “May I remind you that our party was held at Full Moon,” I said, “and that we were all here at home?”

  “Ah, the party.” Cezar was suddenly solemn. “That marked a low point in our friendship, Jena. I’m still hoping you will change your mind about a certain issue.”

  “I can’t—”

  He lifted his hand, silencing me. “You know, it would make life so much easier for all of us if you would,” he said. “It’s what is meant to be, Jena: you and I—I know it. But that can wait. I’m interested in this Other Kingdom that folk mention, and the talk of portals. Should such an opening be available, that would simplify the process of destroying the Night People and all those that consort with them. One could prepare thoroughly—reduce the risks considerably. There’s been plenty of talk about Piscul Dracului and the likelihood that entries to the other realm may lie within the castle. It seems that as soon as one old fellow starts talking, a dozen others remember tales of their own. It came to me that if you girls generally spent the night of Full Moon locked inside your bedchamber and came out exhausted in the morning, it could very possibly be deduced that one such portal was located within that very chamber.”

  Uh-oh.

  I stood frozen. I had not expected him to deduce anything of the sort—it was a big leap of the imagination for a man like him. “What are you suggesting?” It wasn’t at all difficult to sound shocked. “That my sisters and I are crossing over to another world and coming back again every Full Moon? That’s ridiculous.”

  “So I might once have thought, Jena. I would once have believed you girls incapable of such folly: especially you, who saw what these folk could do on the day we lost Costi in the Deadwash. But there’s your night escapade. And Mother mentioned the appearance of a strange young man on the evening of the party—a young man she’s certain was not on the invitation list. Apparently you told her he was a friend of Lucian’s. Lucian tells me that is not so. This stranger was dancing with Tatiana. Who was he, Jena?”

  Think fast.

  “You mean the man dressed in the black waistcoat? I have no idea. I did think I saw him come in with Judge Rinaldo and Lucian. I must have been wrong.”

  “Really? Then I’d better ask Tatiana. Maybe she will be more forthcoming.”

  My heart sank. Tati was in no fit state to stand up to Cezar’s bullying. “She’s not well,” I said. “If you like, I will ask her for you.”

  “I have a far better plan, Jena. You should be happy with it; it obviates the need for me to question any more members of the family. My hunting parties are becoming a waste of time. It seems it’s all too easy for Night People and other denizens of this fairy kingdom to slip away to their own realm, apparently using these portals or gateways that folk speak of. I don’t want to believe this of you and your sisters, Jena. If the people of the valley learned you knew of such an opening and had concealed it, in the light of the murderous activities of those who live beyond, the reputation of our family would be destroyed for all time. But if it’s true, we can make use of it, without letting the community know the secret.”

  “There is no portal.” I tried to keep still so he would not see me shaking. “All that happens here at Full Moon is a private night for girls, when we dress up and share our secrets. You should be pleased that we lock ourselves in, if you believe it to be the most dangerous night of the month.”

  Cezar narrowed his eyes at me. “It may not be,” he said, and I did not like the edge in his voice. “I also heard another tale, a tale in which Dark of the Moon was mentioned. Ah, I see that means something to you, Jena. That, too, is a night on which mysterious ways may be open and uncanny creatures come out into our world to terrify and attack our kind. Wasn’t it Dark of the Moon when I found you and your sister wandering about in the snow?”

  “I didn’t notice,” I said. “You’ve had an explanation for that night, Cezar. You cannot set yourself up as some kind of guardian to us. You’re only a couple of years older than Tati. This is ridiculous. We’ve done nothing wrong.”

  He remained silent.

  Ask him. Ask him what this plan is. It sounds bad.

  “Are you going to tell me what you intend? Since this is our house, I’d appreciate the courtesy of knowing what it is you plan to do here.”

  “Oh, Jena.” He looked genuinely regretful; it made me remember the boy he had been. “I would far prefer us to be friends, you know. More than friends. I meant everything I said to you, the night of the party. Every word.”

  “So did I, Cezar.”

  “You’ve often told me I am too angry—that I haven’t learned to put the past behind me. Oh, yes, I’ve been listening: don’t look so surprised. But I can’t do it. Not without this—not without pursuing those who ruined my life all those years ago. Their promises are false, their words are foul lies. When they are all gone, then I will have no more reason for anger.” He had gone unaccountably nervous, twisting his hands together on the desk, avoiding my eye. “Jena, I need your friendship. I need your love. If you help me, I can do this.
I can make my life worthwhile again. Don’t you see, I must have vengeance for Costi, and for what was done to me that day. You could help me do that. And when it’s over, you could stay by my side and support me, as you did long ago by the Deadwash.…”

  Gogu had tensed up alarmingly as this speech unfolded. I put up a hand to stop him from doing something silly. I was struggling for a way to answer Cezar. “On the night of the party,” I managed, “you didn’t say anything about love.”

  Cezar looked up; his eyes met mine. “I didn’t think I needed to, Jena,” he said quietly.

  This was bad. It made it much harder to say what I must. “I don’t understand any of this talk about making your life worthwhile,” I said. “Isn’t it worthwhile already? You have your mother, you have Vǎrful cu Negurǎ. In time you can become a man like your father was: a stalwart of the community, someone folk look up to. You’re a merchant, you can make a success of that. As a man you can travel, see things, make your mark in the world. I know you’ve had losses, terrible ones. But you shouldn’t need to crush and destroy the folk of the forest, or to take control of Piscul Dracului and of our family, in order to compensate for that. You’ve got a good life now. Or could have, if you would simply get on with living it.”

  He was waiting for something more.

  “I can’t love you, Cezar. Not in the way you mean. And I don’t believe you love me. If you did, you would have taken the time to understand what was important to me. I couldn’t ever love a man who tried to get his own way by frightening people.”

  There was a silence. Even the frog had no contribution to make. Then Cezar got up and opened the door. “You may as well leave, Jena. You’ve made your attitude perfectly clear,” he said. His tone chilled me.

  The plan.

  “You mentioned a plan, Cezar. Am I allowed to hear what it is?”

  “It will become plain to you in due course.”

  “Cezar, tell me. Please.” I had to force the word out.

  “Let us simply say that should you girls make use of any secret passageways or hidden doors at next Full Moon, you won’t be doing so alone. Between now and that time I will be establishing improved security at Piscul Dracului. I know you’ve been breaking the rules I set down to preserve your safety, Jena. Tati, in particular, has shown an alarming tendency to go off for walks on her own. I overheard something in the village recently, something that wasn’t intended for my ears. Folk have noticed the change in your sister’s appearance. They’ve been putting it together with what happened to the miller’s daughter, and some of them have leapt to a conclusion that deeply disturbs me. I don’t know how much you understand about the Night People.”