Hunter's Moon (2 page)

I heard one of the ladies in front of me say in a stage whisper, ‘I've never seen anything like it, not even in dreams. Have you?'

‘Never in my wildest dreams,' agreed the other, happily.

At that moment, the curtain fell. But the show wasn't over, for the curtain rose again and there in the very middle of the stage, bathed in misty light, stood Belladonna in her dark-blue dress. She stood absolutely still, unmoving as a statue, her unblinking gaze directed straight ahead. As the lights grew brighter and she still stood there without moving a muscle, a ripple of unease started to go around the room. What was going on? Why was she not moving or speaking? And then, just as the whispers of puzzled unease started to veer towards mutters of baffled
annoyance, something happened which made everyone fall silent at once.

The flautist began to play a strange little tune, and Belladonna
cracked open
.

There was not a single sound from the audience. Everyone was struck with something close to horror, unable to say a word or make a sound. And then, unbelievably, the two halves of the figure swung out and from the centre of what everyone now clearly saw was a hollow shop dummy – but an incredibly well-made and startlingly lifelike dummy – stepped Belladonna, the real Belladonna, in a pure white dress of exactly the same style as the dark-blue one.

She advanced along the stage and onto the catwalk, then stopped and looked out into the audience, smiling. For a moment there was utter silence, and then the applause began, even more enthusiastic than it had been before, if that were possible. Cheers erupted as the other models entered the stage again, parading on the catwalk in ranks behind Belladonna. People stood, cheering and clapping and shouting, forgetting their dignity in their excitement.

Belladonna stopped at the edge of the catwalk with the other models behind her. She bowed and then clicked her fingers. As she did so, a stage assistant swung the two halves of the Belladonna dummy back into place and wheeled the dummy to stand right beside my stepmother, where it stood like a strange, still twin.

‘Marvellous!' people shouted, as the music swelled.

Belladonna and the models took one bow and then another.

‘Marvellous! Stupendous! Amazing!'

Any unease seemed to have quite disappeared, and the crowd was in great good cheer as Belladonna declared the show closed.

She came down from the stage and was immediately mobbed by eager ladies. There would be many, many orders for our spring fashions placed that night, of that I was sure. I was also sure that it would be a long time before people would cease talking about the amazing spectacle they had witnessed.

But even though I was delighted for Belladonna, for my father and for our business, I could not shake that feeling of icy disbelief that had chilled me when the still figure on the stage had suddenly cracked open. It was clever, very clever. I could see that. But that did not mean I had to like it. I knew I could not tell Belladonna what I felt. I could not say I did not like it because I felt it was wrong to play with such things, that it was tempting fate. If I tried, she would just give me that long cool glance of hers and tell me to stop being a little fool.

The next day dawned grey and drizzly. I woke late, exhausted from the previous night, and discovered that I'd not only missed breakfast but the morning church service, too. Belladonna had already been, come back, and had started on preparations for the day's events: the ball, of course, but also the Ladies' Fair staff lunch which we would both be expected to attend. I hardly had time to do more than gulp down a cold cup of tea before I had to rush back upstairs and get myself ready for the arrival of the small army of hairdressers, beauticians and perfumers who were about to descend on our house.

By eleven o'clock I was duly scrubbed, massaged, perfumed and brushed into suitable form. Belladonna had selected a special outfit for me: a simple dark-green tailored suit made up of a long skirt and a jacket with a nipped-in waist, to be worn with a white blouse. Belladonna's outfit was similar, only hers was a rich amber colour and her blouse was stitched with fine insets of lace.

‘Now, this is an occasion when you will have to say something, unlike yesterday,' she said, as we drove through the streets of Lepmest, back to the store.

I looked at her in some dismay, for she hadn't mentioned that before. ‘But what do I say?'

‘Just thank the staff for their loyalty and service to our company, and tell them to enjoy themselves.' She smiled. ‘It will be easy. You'll see. The rest you can leave up to me.'

And so I did. After that first awkward speech, which to my surprise was met with lots of clapping, I hardly had to say or do anything besides smile and look interested when people talked to me. There were about fifty people there, all wearing their Sunday best, all full of good cheer and chatter and much praise for the show last night.

Traditionally, this staff lunch was lavish, and this year was no exception. The food looked and smelt delicious and our guests fell on it with much enjoyment. I would have loved to follow suit, for I was very hungry on account of that missed breakfast, but I'd seen Belladonna's warning glance and so forced myself to only eat very little of the braised asparagus and tomato, crab salad, smoked duck breast with cherries, venison raised pie, exotic fruit, and beautiful little iced cakes that looked like jewels. Belladonna always maintained that a true lady never showed her hunger in front of guests.

Instead of eating, I listened to the conversations around me. A lot of them centred on talk of the Presentation Ball: who would be there, who wouldn't, what everyone would be wearing. After a while, the conversation moved to gossip about past balls. As I listened, I began to feel more and more worried that I would do something wrong at
the ball and become the subject of gossip like the poor girls and boys the staff were discussing with such relish: girls who'd tripped over the hems of their dresses; boys who'd tripped over their own feet; people who, from sheer fright, had been tongue-tied when they were supposed to be repeating the oath, who sneezed when the Duke was talking to them, who danced with the wrong person, danced too often with the right one, were too shy or too forward, laughed too much, or laughed too little. It seemed as if there were a thousand and one ways I could make a fool of myself, and a thousand and one pairs of eyes to note it.

I said as much to my stepmother, on the way home. She smiled at my worries and said that all I had to do to avoid gossip was to be discreet at all times.

‘Though that does not mean to be stand-offish,' she added, giving me a sideways look. ‘You do need to have one or two topics of suitable conversation ready for every occasion, or risk looking as if there are no thoughts in your head.'

It was a gentle rebuke, but it stung.

She saw my expression and patted my hand. ‘Don't worry, Bianca. I am certain you will do very well and make us proud. Now, this afternoon I still have many things to do and cannot be disturbed so you must keep to your room until the maid is ready to dress you.'

At home, time ticked on. I tried to read but could not concentrate. I tried to come up with some suitable topics of conversation but found myself yawning. Feeling hungry after the little I'd eaten, I went down to the kitchen and, finding it empty, sneaked a couple of slices of bread
and cheese. Back in my room, I tried drawing but found that my pencil kept halting as I daydreamed and worried. Not for the first time, I wished I had a friend of my own age to confide in. My mind wandered to my childhood playmates Rafiel and Margy. We'd been so happy in each other's company and I'd always expected we'd remain friends forever.

But not long after Belladonna had arrived, Margy and Rafiel had left with their parents. Nobody told me why, but I could tell that Belladonna hadn't been impressed by my closeness to servants' children. Although I missed Margy a good deal, strangely, it was Rafiel I missed the most. I wished many times that I could find out where they'd gone but I didn't dare ask questions. So in time I accepted it. As my stepmother had said, it was for the best. Their path in life was very different to mine. They'd understand. But although my head knew what she was saying, my heart did not. I felt the loss of my friends, and that was one of the reasons I was so looking forward to the ball. Surely among all the other young people of good social standing there'd be someone who I might make friends with, someone of whom Belladonna approved.

Evening came at last and I stood downstairs in my ball gown, waiting for Belladonna to come down from her rooms. The
Mirror
photographer had come earlier to take the customary photograph of Belladonna, but nobody else had seen what Belladonna would wear to the ball. As she appeared at the top of the stairs, I couldn't help gasping. Last night's dress had been simply elegant. This one, though, was truly magnificent. It had layers of heavy gleaming-white satin and deep-gold brocade; it
was full-skirted, puff-sleeved and low-cut. Belladonna's golden hair, piled on her head in artful curls, was topped by a sparkling diamond tiara. Dangling from her ears were massive diamond-and-gold drops and at her throat she wore another magnificent diamond. Her high-heeled shoes were gold satin; her evening bag was threaded with gold beads. She shone like the sun and beside her I immediately felt like a pale and distant moon.

‘Do you like it?' she asked, with a little smile.

I nodded, mutely. She would outshine every other woman at the ball, there was not a shred of doubt of that. Her official portrait in the
Mirror
as the Fairest Lady would be stunning. If only Father could be there to see her, how happy and proud he would be! I wished more than ever that he had not had to leave so suddenly. I did not know exactly what unexpected, urgent business had taken him away – he did not talk of business to me – and if Belladonna knew what had called him away, she kept quiet, too.

‘Let's go, then, dear Bianca,' she said brightly, and took my arm.

And so together we went out of the house and down the steps, onto Moonlight Boulevard. Drago bowed deeply as he opened the door of the carriage. Just before I went in after Belladonna, I turned around and saw the house staff crowded around to watch us go. I noticed that some of them looked a little askance at me. Was there something not quite right with my dress? Feeling a little self-conscious with their eyes on my back, I hurriedly stepped into the carriage.

Duke Ottakar's palace is on Grand Boulevard, not far from Moonlight Boulevard. By day, its slender white towers and silver roofs, which could be seen from our house, gleamed in the sun. By night, they shone eerily in the white glow of the new gas lamps that had been installed along the driveway – the Duke loves everything that's modern, and had torn out the friendly yellow-light lanterns in favour of these things. For a moment, as I looked out from our carriage window at the palace shining over the tops of all the other houses, I felt a little shiver run down my spine.

‘A goose walking over your grave,' Margy used to call that spine-tingling feeling, and though I never really understood that saying, I knew what she meant. It's a feeling that something isn't right, that something is out of place, that something is making you feel uneasy, though you have no idea what it is or why it's making you feel that way. That's how I felt, right at that moment – as though I should not be going to the palace. That something bad
was waiting for me there, and that I should turn around and go home.

I'd had moments like that a few times when I was a child. Once, when walking in long grass at my grandfather's country house, the shiver had gone up my spine and I'd stepped back. Looking down, I'd seen that I had only just avoided stepping on a snake. Another time, I'd had the same feeling and backed off an old wooden bridge – just before it had collapsed. Yet another time was when I'd jumped off my beloved pony Bruna, just before a horsefly bite had sent her careering around the field. There had been other, less dramatic moments. My old nurse used to say it was my gypsy ancestor Tamara coming out in me, that I had a kind of ‘sight' that preserved me from danger. But I found that as childhood faded, so did the so-called ‘sight'. I could not recall the last time I'd had this experience. Certainly not in the four years since I'd turned thirteen.

I hesitated, looking at Belladonna. I opened my mouth to speak – then I shut it again, for what was I going to say? That I wanted to turn back? What reason would I give for not going? And really, I didn't want to turn back. I wanted to go to the ball. I convinced myself that it was just nerves and an overactive imagination, like my foolish thoughts last night about tempting fate. Belladonna would scoff at the very notion of ‘sight' and ‘tempting fate' – polite society doesn't believe in such nonsense as second sight, witches, shapeshifters and other such things.

Still, I've come to realise that there's a strange gap between what people say they believe and what they really do believe. People in Noricia are very superstitious,
and everyone knows these creatures
do
exist. And Aurisola, where Belladonna comes from, has a reputation for magic.

Aurisola. Why
had
my father gone there so suddenly?

‘Belladonna, do you know why Father had to go to Aurisola?' I asked.

My stepmother looked at me in surprise. ‘Why do you ask?'

‘It's just that there is only one small Ladies' Fair shop there and I know he doesn't like travelling long distances. Usually he'd just get his manager to look after things –'

‘This wasn't usual,' said Belladonna, interrupting me. ‘It was urgent business that only he could attend to.'

‘But –'

‘If he'd seen fit for you to know what it was, then you would,' she said. ‘You have to respect your father's decisions, Bianca.'

I could feel my cheeks flaming. ‘Oh, I do, but –'

‘Enough!' she snapped, her voice harsh. ‘Here we are about to appear before the ruler of the land and all you can think of are things that are none of your business! I'm disappointed in you, Bianca.'

I could feel my face go from red to pale. I stammered, ‘I'm … I'm sorry. I didn't mean … I didn't think …'

‘No. That's true enough,' said Belladonna, ruefully shaking her head. ‘But you must think before you speak, my darling, and keep a guard on your tongue, for you do not know who might be listening.'

Belladonna can be a bit too suspicious of people sometimes. Father says it comes from her having grown up in Aurisola, which as well as having a reputation for magic is
also known as a city of intrigues and informers. Everyone there treads very carefully.

I nearly responded to Belladonna's comment that in this case it was only her listening, not unfriendly strangers, but I controlled myself in time.

‘I'm sorry. I just wish Father was here to see me being presented to the Duke.'

‘And I'm sure he feels the same but he must do his duty – as we all must, dear Bianca,' she said, with an affectionate smile.

At that moment, our coach came to a stop. Mindful of Belladonna's disapproval, I didn't dare pull down the window so I could poke my head out and see what the hold-up was. But as we slowly started up again and drew past the obstruction, I looked through the glass and saw men in the green uniform of the City Police gathered around something on the edge of the road. Something that looked at first like a shapeless bundle – but then I realised that it was a body, clothed in the rags of a beggar, with his face covered by a blanket.

‘What are you doing? Draw the curtain,' said Belladonna, sharply.

I did as I was told. With a shiver, I remembered the creepy feeling I'd had earlier. It must be another beggar killing: over the last year or so, the bodies of at least a dozen beggars had turned up in the streets of the city. At first, the police and the newspapers had taken little notice, for usually the deaths of such people were not investigated, let alone reported. But as the death toll mounted, reports had started appearing in the papers and the police had at last swung into action – for it appeared that these were
particularly mysterious crimes. All the bodies had been found on the street, in broad daylight, and the victims had not long been dead. The victims' faces all bore a look of frozen terror, and they all had a strange puncture wound at their throats. The investigators had not been able to establish with certainty what had made the wounds, but there was speculation that they were either the mark of fangs, or the mark of some hitherto unknown instrument. The more sensational newspapers reported vampire attacks; the more respectable ones reported sinister scientific experiments. But so far, neither rampaging vampires nor mad scientists had been located, and not a single clue as to who or what might be responsible had been found.

‘It's awful, what's happening to those poor people,' I said. ‘I wish they could find and stop the horrible criminal who's doing this. Do you think they will ever be found?'

Belladonna frowned. ‘For heaven's sake, Bianca, such sordid happenings are hardly a fit topic of conversation, especially for a lady about to be presented to society! I never speculate about such things and you shouldn't, either. The police are doing their job, and no doubt they will find the culprit in time. In any case, it is none of our concern. Those people have nothing to do with us.'

That doesn't mean we shouldn't care, I wanted to say, but knew to hold my tongue. Besides, what did I really know about such things? What did I know of the beggars? What, in fact, did I know about anything except my own little world?

So I was quiet, and soon we arrived at the palace gates and were helped out of the coach by one of the Duke's footmen, splendidly attired in blue and silver, with the
griffin crest of the Duchy of Noricia embroidered on his waistcoat. Legend has it that thousands of years ago, a griffin saved the life of the first duke by plucking him, injured, from a battlefield where he was about to be captured by enemy forces. I don't know if the story is true but I liked it very much as a child, and so did Rafiel and Margy. I remember playing the griffin game with them – one of us would be the duke, another the griffin, and the other would be a soldier from the enemy forces. Thinking of that made a lump come into my throat, and I gulped it down quickly. Now was not the time to be nostalgic about childhood. The presentation ritual was the first step to entering adulthood. Now was the time to start behaving like an adult, and to put all childish things behind me – games, geese walking over graves, impertinent questions and useless speculation.

As we walked into the ballroom, filing in behind hundreds of others, the footman on duty called out our names in a solemn voice: ‘Lady Dalmatin and Lady Bianca Dalmatin.'

I could feel my heart racing as we made our way towards where the Duke and his sister stood at the far end of the room, hearing the first oath from each young candidate. The room was crowded, a mass of colour and sound and fragrance, but the crowd parted as we drew nearer to the Duke and I could hear sharply indrawn breaths from all around as Belladonna walked with stately grace towards the Duke with me following, trying to match her pace.

‘Your grace and Lady Helena, I am honoured to be in your presence,' Belladonna said, as she reached the ducal pair. Standing behind her, I saw her sink to the ground
in a beautiful curtsey that looked like the dance of a swan and I saw the Duke's eyes light up with admiration. Even Lady Helena, who had the reputation of being a grim old battleaxe, gave a little smile. Around us, the room had fallen silent as everyone watched.

‘Lady Dalmatin,' said the Duke, holding out his hand for her to rise, ‘the pleasure is all ours. I have heard from my sister, Lady Helena, about the triumph of your event last night, and offer my congratulations along with hers.'

‘Why thank you, your grace,' said Belladonna, softly.

‘We are very glad to welcome you and Lady Bianca to the Presentation Ball.' He cleared his throat and then said in a low voice, so that only we heard, ‘But before we get down to official business, might I ask if I may claim the first dance with you, Lady Dalmatin?'

Belladonna's eyes met his. I could not read her expression. I know she must have been surprised by this unusual invitation, but she did not show her feelings.

‘Of course, your grace,' she murmured. ‘That is a great honour, and I gladly accept.'

‘Good,' said the Duke, beaming all over his broad plain face, looking rather like the frog who'd unexpectedly been kissed by a princess.

But I had no time to think any further about their exchange, for now was my big moment. As we'd practised so often, Belladonna stepped to one side and motioned me forward.

‘Your grace,' she said, ‘may I formally present my step-daughter, Lady Bianca Dalmatin, only child of Sir Anton Dalmatin and his late wife, Lady Marianna Dalmatin?'

‘You may indeed,' said the Duke, but he gave me only a cursory glance before motioning me closer. As I sank to the floor in a curtsey, as I'd been taught, he took a blue ribbon from his sister Lady Helena's hands and placed it on my left shoulder, saying, quickly, ‘By the laws of our land, and the power that is vested in me through those laws, I hereby declare that Lady Bianca Dalmatin, only child of Sir Anton and Lady Marianna Dalmatin and lawful stepdaughter of Lady Belladonna Dalmatin, is ready to take the first step into adult estate and the citizenship of the Duchy of Noricia.'

‘Thank … Thank you, your grace –' I began, but I caught a glance from Belladonna and fell quiet. I wasn't supposed to interrupt.

The Duke gave a tiny frown but continued. ‘And so I ask my sister, Lady Helena, to instruct you in what is to follow.'

Lady Helena stepped forward. She looked at me and I felt her sharp grey gaze searching my face. I could not help blushing a little. Was there a spot on my nose? I looked at Belladonna but she just frowned. I could not understand what I had done wrong.

To my relief, Lady Helena spoke. ‘Stand up, Lady Bianca,' she said.

I did as I was told, trying not to tremble, trying to pretend that there wasn't a roomful of people staring at me, trying to pretend that Belladonna wasn't still glaring at me as though I'd done something to disgrace myself.

‘As you know, there are three steps to come into adult estate,' said the Duke's sister. ‘The first is this ball, where you are declared ready by his grace the Duke and swear
the first oath; the second is in three days' time when you will attend a citizenship ceremony at the Town Hall and swear the second oath; and the third will be in six days' time, when you will swear the final oath in the Cathedral of St Simeon, and be blessed by the Lord Cardinal and all the archbishops. It is compulsory to attend each of these ceremonies and failure to attend will result in you not entering into the full citizenship and protection of the laws of Noricia. Do you understand?'

‘I do, my lady,' I breathed. ‘And do you profess yourself ready, willing and able to perform these tasks?'

‘I do, my lady.'

‘Do you swear the first oath, to honour your country in every word?'

‘I do, my lady.'

‘Good.' She gave a little smile, took the blue ribbon from my left shoulder, and placed it on my right. ‘You have taken the first step, Lady Bianca. Well done.'

‘Thank you, my lady,' I whispered. Then, turning to Duke Ottakar, I whispered my thanks to him, too. ‘Thank you, your grace.' I could feel my legs trembling, my heart pounding. I only hoped I did not look as overwhelmed as I felt.

‘Very well,' said the Duke, impatiently, his eyes still on Belladonna.

Taking my cue, I walked away, following Belladonna who was heading towards a group of her friends. A wave of people came between us, though, and I lost her halfway there. I was looking around in panic, thinking that I knew nobody there, when I cannoned straight into a red-haired,
round-faced girl in a green dress. ‘Sorry – so sorry,' I stammered, trying to recover my composure.

The girl gave me a darting smile. ‘It's fine. Normal to feel nervous, you know. I thought I was going to faint.'

‘You've already been presented?'

‘I was the third in the line. My mother was determined I'd be presented early – she didn't trust me to remember what I was meant to do if we had to wait too long.' She grinned. ‘I was sure all those gawking snobs could hear my teeth chattering. I thought I should whistle a tune or something, just to really give them something to talk about.'