Rose 3: Rose and the Magician's Mask (12 page)

BOOK: Rose 3: Rose and the Magician's Mask
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‘It frightens me,’ she whispered back, leaning against him to breathe into his ear. ‘Because I love it so. What if I start to love it too much, like the mask-maker said? If I want to wear it always, like Miss Fell told us?’ She was silent a moment. ‘Bill, if you think it’s becoming part of me, will you promise to take it off? Even if – even if you have to tear it away?’

Bill shifted uncomfortably. ‘Not if it means tearing your face, like you said with that boy. How could I? Besides,’ he added in a husky whisper, ‘you look pretty in it.’

‘I’d rather be dead than not be anything underneath it.’ But Rose was blushing behind the plaster mask.

‘It’s cold out here,’ Bella complained. ‘Can’t we go in?’ They had not brought cloaks, Lord Lynton explaining that the party would be a sad crush, and there would be nowhere to leave them. But there was
a sharp wind blowing off the water. Rose was warmer than everyone else, as Gus was draped around her shoulders. He had glamoured himself flatter, so that he looked like a little fur tippet.

Lord Lynton, who had been admiring the dresses through his eyeglass, nodded and led them through the crowds to the palace entrance.

The marble-floored rooms that had seemed so huge were now not large enough for the crowds swirling and sparkling inside them. Branches of candles burned everywhere, and in the main ballroom hung an enormous chandelier, dripping with crystal droplets and golden glass flowers, the candles making stamens of living flame. The light reflected on the dancers’ silken skirts, and the satin coats of the men.

‘Oh,’ Rose breathed in delight, and then she gave herself a little shake. She must not forget that they were here to find Mr Fountain, who was most probably being kept shut up by Girolamo and Gossamer in some horrible dungeon over that strange crooked bridge. She was not here to dance, even though her feet itched to join the spinning patterns on the dance floor.

Lord Lynton had disappeared into the throng, and Rose could not see Miss Fell anywhere. But then, if there really were as many people here as there seemed to be, they might never see her all night.

‘Oh, I can’t just stand here!’ Bella cried. ‘We can’t gosearching yet, not while everyone’s still being polite.’ She seized Freddie’s hand, and ran with him into the gathering crowd. ‘Smile, Freddie, let’s dance.’

Rose sighed, watching them, and looked hopefully at Bill, but he shook his head firmly. ‘Manservant, remember? Like as not, they’d have me drowned for dancing. Find a gentleman, Rosie. That’s what you need now.’

‘I can’t just ask some stranger to dance!’ That wouldprobably be more shocking than dancing with Bill. But it did look such fun.

A draft blew in from the doorway, and the candles guttered for a moment. Rose shivered, and patted her shoulder in confusion. Where had her pretty fur gone?

She was staring at her sleeves, and hardly noticed when someone came to stand in front of her. Someone with warm, soft skin, who took her hand.

Rose looked up, and swallowed. Standing before her,dressed all in white, even down to slender white fur slippers, was a tall and handsome boy. He was masked, but his mask was made of glittering ice-white fur, and had the pointed ears of a cat. Silver wire made the whiskers, and it had diamond chips for teeth. The mask was half-covered by the hood of a short white fur cloak. It was a most effective costume, and several
of the other guests were murmuring admiringly.

The boy bowed low to Rose, and held out one white-gloved hand in an unmistakeable invitation to dance. As she stared up at him, Rose noticed that the boy had one deep blue eye, and the other was a strange shade of tawny gold. And his tongue was pink and sharp and pointed, as he flicked it across his lips.

‘Gus?’ she whispered, as he whirled her into the dance. ‘You’re a boy? I didn’t know you could do that!’

‘You didn’t know I can skin a rat with my whiskers.’ Gus shrugged elegantly. ‘I can do a lot of things. And we may as well enjoy ourselves. We will only look suspicious if we lurk about being miserable.’ He smiled, the whiskers of the mask twitching. ‘Besides, I can smell the supper table. There is a lot of lobster, and I do not want to have to skulk under the table to eat it.’

Rose smiled, and closed her eyes as he spun her round and round the dance floor. It would be far too easy to forget their mission and simply keep on dancing.

 

The dancing had changed now – no more decorous pattern dances, but riotous, romping waltzes, the women’s skirts flaring out in a flurry of silk as their partners whirled them round the floor.

Rose stood watching by a delicate silver tree, a slender sapling that seemed to be made of living metal, its leaves adding a shimmering bell chime to the music. Little jewelled birds sung on its branches, but they were not real inside. She had checked, after the first horrified moment, when she had felt sick at the sight of them. Although that might have had something to do with the lobster, as she and Gus had eaten rather a lot of it, and she had followed it with ices.

Freddie and Bella appeared suddenly in front of her, spat out of the swirling dance, and stumbling slightly.

‘Still no sign of Gossamer?’ Bella murmured.

Rose shook her head. She had been looking so carefully at all the masks, searching for that strange mushroom-pale one she’d seen hanging from Gossamer’s hand. But most of the dancers had bright, beautifully painted creations.

‘It’s time, don’t you think? Late enough to go looking?’ Freddie asked. ‘Where are Gus and Bill?’

‘In the supper room. Bill thought no one would be in a fit state to mind, and Gus found they had been keeping back some lobsters. He says boys have bigger stomachs than cats, and he’s making the most of it.’

Gus sighed dramatically when they appeared, and eyed the half-dismembered lobster in front of him regretfully. ‘I suppose you want me to leave this
behind?’ Standing up, with one hand protectively over his stomach, he ducked under the tablecloth. Freddie made to look underneath, but Bella pulled him back. The tablecloth billowed, and there was a prolonged and unpleasant retching sound, then Gus appeared, wriggling out from beneath the linen, and looking very small.

‘Are you all right?’ Rose asked, and he nodded, briskly licking a paw and sweeping it over his ears.

‘Oh, yes. Don’t worry. It was quite worth it. Where shall we start?’

 

‘Miss Fell was right.’ Rose gazed disgustedly after a party of revellers, who were reeling down the passageway. ‘They practically collapsed on us.’

‘Wait a minute! Did their masks look different to you?’ Bill stared after them as they staggered around the corner. ‘Sort of tighter?’

Bella nodded, giving Rose a slightly anxious look. ‘Don’t faint, Rose. But I think he’s right – those were the kind that don’t come off. They wrinkle like skin.’

Rose was frowning after them. ‘When we first came to see the duke, Girolamo had a group of people around him, and I’m sure they all had the masks that don’t come off. I remember that black-and-white diamond one, I’m almost sure…’

‘You think that lot are working for Jerry-whatsit?’ Bill asked. ‘And Gossamer?’

‘It’s as good a clue as any,’ Freddie agreed. ‘We haven’t found anything suspicious so far, and it feels like we’ve been over half the palace.’

Rose nodded, swallowing carefully. ‘They came up that flight of stairs over there.’

They moved over to the stairway, already starting to move in a cautious creeping sort of way, as if it would help.

‘Do you think this palace has eyes?’ Bella suddenlymurmured, as they walked slowly down the stairs.

Rose and Freddie glared at her, and Bill sniffed. Gus, who was leaping ahead, hissed. ‘Don’t even suggest it. How do you know it won’t take a fancy to the idea?’

Bella stared around her at the dark wood of the stairs. There were little faces carved among the garlands of leaves that swagged the banister, monkeys grinning with sharp teeth, foxes, a sly-eyed cat. It would take very little imagination for them to turn and follow the children as they went on down the steps. Mr Fountain’s house was full of odd quirks like that, so the palace was bound to be.

‘Stop thinking about it!’ Gus snapped at them, which was of course impossible. ‘Or at least go faster. There are no more of these dratted carvings once we
get off the stairs, and I shouldn’t think they can uprootthemselves, horrible little things.’

The little wooden cat stretched and stared after himmalevolently.

‘Move!’

They skittered down the rest of the steps, their party finery swishing around them, and cannoned off the stairs into a flagged passageway, hung with tapestries. It smelled old, and the flagstones were worn smooth with thousands of footsteps.

‘Is this an ancient part of the palace?’ Rose whispered. She wasn’t sure she believed in ghosts, but if they were going to be anywhere, it would be here.

The passageway was long, and the doors that occasionally led off it all seemed to be locked. Most of the keyholes were ornate metal ones, snarling lion-faces, with very obvious teeth. Gus sniffed one, and shuddered. ‘Put the wrong key in, and it would have your hand off, I think.’

After that everyone drew into the middle of the passage, as far away from the doors as possible.

‘Is it just me, or does this passageway slope downwards?’ Freddie asked a while later. ‘It’s been going on for ages. We must get somewhere soon.’

‘I wouldn’t bet on it,’ Bill muttered, but then he rubbed his hands over his arms. ‘It’s getting colder,
too. And damp.’ He pointed to the wall – the tapestries had run out some time ago, and there were dark, greenish streaks on the stone. ‘I reckon we’re heading for one of those underground canals, like at the embassy. Perhaps they all link up?’

‘Come and see!’ Gus had padded round a corner, and now they found themselves at an abrupt dead end, facing a solid-looking wooden door. In the middle, an even larger lion’s head held a massive iron ring in its mouth. The lion was smiling, in an inviting sort of way.

Rose and the others turned to look at Gus, who was sitting in front of the door looking small and thoughtful. ‘This is the water door. I can feel the stream flowing on the other side. And hear it. Just a quiet ripple, nothing more.’

‘I hope that’s not the kind of lion that bites fingers off,’ Rose said warily. ‘It looks quite friendly, and it isn’t as if we can put the wrong key in, you only have to turn the ring.’ She looked hopefully at Gus, remembering his abilities with door handles, but he shook his head.

‘That won’t work here.’

‘There’s some marks on the wood,’ Bill pointed out,crouching down to look. ‘Um. They
could
be blood…’

Gus managed an expressive feline shrug. ‘They
could
be anything.’

‘I bet it only bites human fingers,’ Freddie suggested. ‘Could you swing on the ring?’

Gus gave him a disdainful look. ‘I am not a trained monkey from the circus.’ Then his ears twitched suddenly, and the fur rose up along his spine. ‘There’s someone coming!’

Freddie looked back along the corridor. ‘No, there isn’t.’

‘From the other side!’

They hustled back around the corner. ‘Is it just oneperson?’ Freddie demanded.

‘Sssh!’ Gus stood listening, his eyes closed, whiskerstrembling. ‘Yes,’ he said at last.

‘We could hide ourselves, with that spell Papa taught us,’ Bella suggested.

‘But then the door would still be closed.’ Rose took a deep breath. ‘If we grab whoever’s coming, before they shut the door, then we could get to the water. I’m sure we’re close to your father, Bella.’

‘What if it’s Gossamer coming?’ Freddie whispered.

‘Then we’re all dead, I should think.’ Gus shrugged again. ‘Stay here.’ As he strolled back round the corner, they could see him changing, his aristocratic white coat shading, till he became a striped brown tabby, its ribs showing through the rippled fur.

Rose peeped round the edge of the wall, and saw him
sitting in front of the door, looking like the most unmagical alley cat, admittedly a very lost one. Then her heart thudded in panic as she saw the ring in the lion’s mouth start to turn, and she whipped back round the corner, flattening herself against the wall.

The door creaked – of course it would, Rose thought, listening to it groan, and trying not to shiver – and someone stepped through.

Gus mewed plaintively, and a surprised voice answered him – a boy’s voice, not Gossamer then.

Rose looked round at the others questioningly, and Freddie nodded. She was just readying herself to run round the corner, when the boy’s voice rose into a sudden howl of terror, and Freddie shoved her sideways and shot past her.

The boy was lying on the flagstones in front of the door, and Gus was standing on his chest. He was no longer any sort of cat, but rather a huge mastiff dog, although he had kept the tabby coat. His sleek brindled fur covered hulking shoulders, and he growled in the boy’s masked face with enormous,slavering jaws.

‘Oh.’ Freddie sounded rather disappointed. ‘I don’t think he needs any help at all.’

‘Did you want to be heroic?’ Bella giggled.

Freddie went red, and Rose patted his arm. At least
he had tried – she had still been summoning up the courage to move.

‘What are we going to do with him?’ Bill stared down at the boy. ‘If we let him go, he’ll tell the whole palace, like as not.’

‘We could drop him in the river.’ Gus nosed at the boy’s ear thoughtfully, and then growled as the boy yelled in terror.

Rose crouched down and looked at him. Something about that yell had sounded familiar. She stood up quickly, feeling sick at the sight of the battered fox mask. ‘That’s the boy from the alleyway.’

‘Really?’ Bella squeaked, inspecting him. ‘Yes, you’re right. He works for Gossamer. Oh, surely this must be where Papa is!’

The boy had clearly recognised Rose’s voice, for he snarled something unintelligible and spat on the floor. Gus set up a low, steady growl, so deep it made the floor shake, and the boy shook too, muttering what sounded like most heartfelt prayers.

‘There’s a boat in here,’ Bill suggested, looking back from the doorway. ‘And some spare rope. I say we tie him up and dump him in the boat. We can untie him when we come back.’

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