The Shells Of Chanticleer (14 page)

As I hurried through town I could hear flutes playing in the distance. The streetlamps were all lit, and tiny white fairy lights were strung between them. Ahead of me on the path I could see that everyone was dressed in similar medieval gowns and period suit coats and I sighed with relief. I hurried ahead, anxious to meet up with my friends. Chanticleer was strange, but I was having a good day.

“Best day ever,” I said, laughing at the memory of Bing hurtling down to earth.

Cornish Manor looked like what its name implied, an old, sprawling stone castle you’d tour in England. I passed through a large forecourt dotted with more street lamps, strands of daisies wrapped around their posts and more strings of twinkling fairy lights looping between them.

I climbed a set of wide steps to the open doors of the manor. There were crowds of people milling inside the doorway – young men and old women – all strangers to me. As I entered, I looked over my shoulder. I seemed to be the last to arrive.

Inside, the festival was a swirl of sensations. I was taken aback by the press of people, the clattering of dishes and glasses, the raucous screams and laughter, the total transformation back in time. There was only firelight as befitting a party in those days, but it made it awfully hard to see. I stood inside the foyer as my eyes adjusted to the dark, the saffron colored silk slippers I had been given left little between my feet and the cold, hard stone of the floor. A barrage of scents perfumed the air: cut flowers mixed with damp passageways, lit cigars that left a trail of smoke, a tray of savory food coming through, and the unmistakable sweet smell of cotton candy.

I was unsure of what to do next. I didn’t recognize anyone walking by, but why would I? I hadn’t been there that long and there were more adults there than I had ever noticed in an ordinary day. I had no idea where to find my friends and become part of the night. I was about to choose a direction and start searching when, luckily, I heard my name being called, and there was Zooey. She was wearing a gown like mine, only pumpkin orange; her tiara had rubies in it.

She said, “I’ve been waiting for you! Where were you?”

“Coursework.” I said. “I fell off the bridge in the Fir Forest today.”

“Oh! I am so glad I am not afraid of heights. You get so dirty with that one!”

“I’m starving,” I said. “Is there any food?”

“Is there any food in Chanticleer?”

Of course there was. Zooey grabbed my hand and led me to a buffet that was spilling over with choices. There were casseroles and pastries, buns and grapes, piles of mashed potatoes, and chunks of chewy cookies and mugs and mugs of warm caramel sugar. I filled a plate and shoveled food in my mouth while standing up. I dribbled food onto my gown and made a stain trying to wipe it off. I didn’t care.

“Don’t be so messy, Macy,” said Zooey primly. “Let’s go into the dining room here.” She pushed me forward into an amazing round room, its ceiling tapered to a point like a teepee, high above us. The walls and ceiling were tented with yards and yards of silver shimmering fabric, meticulously pleated, and gathered to a point in the center of the ceiling. A silver birdcage on a chain descended from the highest point. Inside, oversized parrots squawked and repeated random words from the floating conversations, adding to the clamor and the spectacle. Copper lanterns dotted the sides of the room and a roaring fire danced in a six-foot high fireplace. At the far end, large windows looked out onto a sloping lawn, and I recognized the same loch and purple mountains visible from the library reading room. Zooey and I found two spots together at the enormous round table that was already crowded.

“Thank you for waiting to eat with me,” I said. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. Actually, this is my second meal tonight. I ate with Violet too, before I lost her. She couldn’t wait. You know she comes from a big family and has that fear of never having enough.”

“Enough what?”

“Enough to eat, enough of her own things.”

Hmm. I was the only girl in a not-so-big family, so I couldn’t relate. But I guess that was the point. She probably couldn’t relate to how I felt about having dead animals in my house.

“So what happens tonight?” I asked.

“Right, you’ve never been to a festival before. It’s just a party where we dress up according to different themes and celebrate milestones in our coursework and remember those who have tipped back home.”

“Will I have to do anything?”

I never knew what was around the corner. I hoped I could just relax for the rest of the night.

“Not that I know of,” she replied. “It’s just for fun. So don’t worry, have some more warm caramel sugar. Drink up.”

I downed the mug and, again, immediately felt better. The warm caramel sugar relaxed me, and I decided to let her in on my secret. It was driving me crazy keeping what I knew to myself.

“Can I tell you something?” I whispered.

She nodded.

“Of course! Is it about a boy?”

I shook my head and rolled my eyes no.

“I know about the shells. Don’t ask me how, but you don’t have to act like they are a secret around me anymore.”

Her eyes widened. I had her full attention. “Who told you?”

“I didn’t say anyone told me, did I? I found out, that’s all. I just want you to know.”

Zooey’s skeptical eyes narrowed. “Alright. Don’t let anyone on staff know that you know. There’s a schedule for all that. They can get mad when it’s not followed to the letter. I’m surprised that you found out. Did Violet tell you?”

“No,” I said, defending my friend. “No, I overheard someone in the library,” I fibbed. Zooey was tricky. I thought she might get Bing in trouble and I felt I had to protect him from her. She stared at me, her brow furrowed beneath her black bangs, deciding whether or not to believe me, but she dropped the topic.

It was a relief to tell her what I knew, as it meant she and Violet didn’t have to mince words or exchange secret looks in front of me anymore—now I could be included. Our dinner finished, I drank down the last bit of my warm caramel sugar and we hurried out of the dining tent to parade around the manor.

“Speaking of, where is Violet?”

Zooey huffed.

“I don’t know,” she confessed. “She is acting funny lately. Did you notice anything?”

“Well,” I paused, wondering whether to say what I thought, then gave in. “Bing came and ate lunch with us the other day and I know you said you weren’t friends with him, but it didn’t look like that. In fact, Violet went off with him alone after lunch. I think she likes him, a lot.”

Zooey tensed her mouth as her eyes shifted around the room.

“I haven’t seen her or Bing either in a long time tonight. In fact, I bet they are together. Macy, the more time she spends with him, the more he will convince her not to tip back home when her time approaches. You don’t know this about her, but she doesn’t always pass her coursework right away. I’m worried about her. I think she is drifting toward trouble. Now that you know about the shells, you understand what I mean. We’ve got to get her away from him, for her own good. Let’s go find them.”

She took off, determined to find Violet, and I followed along, willingly at first. We rushed through the adjoining rooms of the manor, barely noticing the festivities. A jester cartwheeled and stood on his head. The room roared with the mixed timbre of men and women’s laughter. I wanted to stop and watch the fool, but Zooey was on a mission and I was to be her accomplice. We hurried down the fire-lit hallway. We passed a harpist, her fingers delicately plucking the strands of her instrument. Her audience, sitting around on satin cushions strewn about the floor, seemed hypnotized.

I swiped a chocolate covered strawberry off of a tray and popped it in my mouth before Zooey dragged me away. I saw a tumbling team, a tight-wire walker, a fire-eater, and a magician with doves, but all only out of the corner of my eye. We rushed through room after room, Zooey’s eyes immune to all things not Violet. It was starting to get annoying. I carefully dodged the masked stilt walkers in their crazy gold and purple mardi-gras costumes as they made their way down a passageway packed with people.

The smell of cotton candy was everywhere. I had been aware of it all night and I was craving it. When I saw the cart and wanted to stop, Zooey vehemently objected, but I turned a deaf ear. Zooey was starting to drive me crazy. The festival looked amazing but I was missing everything. Still, I ran after her.

We burst through a set of closed doors and were stopped cold by a crowded room swirling with dancers. A full orchestra filled a stage, the violinists rapidly drawing their bows in a rollicking waltz. The intimate ballroom was topped by a glass ceiling, framed and held together by strips of copper framing. It created an illusion of two ballrooms, the very real one on the floor and the mirror image in the glare above. We couldn’t squeeze through as Zooey had hoped so we flattened ourselves against the wall to wait it out. Finally, she stopped for a moment.

“We’ll have to wait here until the song ends,” she said.

My limited patience had reached its end.
Running around trying to find Violet is a waste of time,
I thought.
It’s not as if I can influence her anyway. I hardly know her.
On top of it, the firelight-only atmosphere inside the manor made it impossible to see who was who. I tapped my foot impatiently, waiting. I must have looked like I wanted to dance because the next thing I knew there was a tapping on my shoulder.

I turned around to see a blond young man standing behind me. He inquired politely, “Would you be so kind as to dance?” I froze in anxiety, thinking “
Shoot. No, I do not know you and therefore do not want to dance with you.
” I looked toward Zooey to signal that we needed to escape immediately but another stranger was between us, trying to coax her onto the floor too. I turned back to the stranger, determined to refuse.

“Ah, no thanks, I don’t think so,” I replied, instantly shy.

Still desperate to get away, I again looked toward Zooey, but she had not resisted the invitation and had been sucked into the swirling crowd. Then it was just too awkward to stand there, alone with the guy I had just rejected, so I gave in.

“Oh, alright. I’ll dance with you, if you want,” I agreed, more than a little unenthusiastically.

I let him take my hand and he, oblivious to my obvious discomfort, proceeded to try and charm me. “I’m Sebastian Finn,” he said. “You’re not afraid of dancing, are you?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. I could feel my throat contract. My unease was apparent.

“Don’t stress out,” he said. “Have fun.” Then, speaking right into my ear, so I could hear him, he promised, “I don’t bite. Not with people watching, at least.”

I laughed and wondered,
Are vampire jokes ever going to get old?
I didn’t want to give him the impression that I was enjoying that dance, but I couldn’t resist playing along with the joke, either. “Let’s wait until we are alone for that,” I whispered back into his ear, which elicited a deep rolling laugh from him.

I had never danced formally before, like I had seen in the movies. Who had? The tempo was tricky and it was hard to keep time. I felt like a stiff wooden klutz with my feet constantly coming down hard on Sebastian’s toes.

“Oops, sorry,” I was always saying.
He sure picked the short straw as far as partners go,
I thought. Thankfully, the dance was halfway over before we began so my discomfort was short-lived. When the music died and we drew off to the side, I wanted to leave immediately, but I couldn’t see Zooey anywhere in the packed hall and this Sebastian seemed like he wanted to talk.

“You are Macy, right?”

I nodded, yes, but kept searching the crowd for Zooey.

“It’s very nice to have someone new here again. Would you indulge me and keep me company for a bit? It seems that our friends have run off together.”

Just then I saw Zooey, impatiently waving me toward the open door, and I remembered that our night had been all about finding Violet. Zooey had a real bossy side to her and I was getting tired of it. Did I want to keep running around the festival with her? I turned away and decided to pretend I didn’t see her. Maybe Sebastian was the better option? On closer inspection, he was darned cute, even in the dark. I agreed to stay.

“Another dance?” he suggested, and I let him grab my hand and drag me deep into the crowd, ignoring Zooey’s gesturing to follow her,
now!
The second dance actually wasn’t so terrible despite how closely we were packed in and how much I continued to step on his feet. He good-naturedly laughed it all off. I forgot to act like a reluctant dance partner for the next three minutes. I put Zooey out of my mind; she had stomped off when the music started.

Afterwards, he pulled me towards the doorway. “Thirsty?”

I nodded and followed. We made our way to the banquet hall that was, thankfully, better lit than the dance floor. It took my eyes a minute to adjust to the light as we squeezed through the throngs of people until we found the drinks. Sebastian took two tall crystal flutes of warm caramel sugar from a pyramid of glasses stacked on a long skirted table.

“Here you go.”

I took the flute and stared into the drink. It was warm and smelled wonderful, as usual, but I was hot and wanted something cold—punch or just a glass of ice water. “Is there anything else? I’m so hot” I complained.

Sebastian looked at me as if I had spoken gibberish. “No. There is no other choice here. This is all you need.”

He looked at my disappointed face and laughed a little, and then tilted his own flute upward, drinking quickly. He closed his eyes as he drank, and as I watched him a strange sensation washed over me. It was there, in that fire-lit room, that I first noticed he was not just cute, but strangely beautiful. Usually, I thought most men were unexceptional looking, but there was something about Sebastian’s face that seemed familiar. I was fascinated by the natural curl of his thick eyelashes and by the perfection of his profile, but the attraction wasn’t only physical.