Juliet Marillier - Wildwood Dancing

I’ll dear him. How dare he? Wretch! Coward!

“You would put a man in our bedroom. ” My tone was flat with disbelief. “Overnight. Clearly it’s only your own reputation you’re worried about, not those of your marriageable cousins. Cezar, this is ludicrous. I’m going up to see Aunt Bogdana first thing in the morning. She will never allow such a breach of propriety.”

“My mother is not home. She’s gone to visit her friend near Bra¸sov.”

I was immediately suspicious. “She never mentioned that to me.”

“It was a sudden decision. Don’t trouble yourself, Jena. I will provide a woman from my household as chaperone, someone discreet. We’ll make sure this doesn’t get out.”

“Then I’m going down to the village to see Judge Rinaldo.

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You’ve exceeded your authority too far, Cezar. This talk of guards . . . It’s not something you can do.”

“You will explain to the judge about your nighttime escapades, then? The uninvited guest at your party? He knows already of your difficulties in managing your father’s funds and in running your farm with only old Petru to help. He knows this household was singled out to be spared the marauding attentions of the Night People. Very probably he’s heard the theory about the cause of Tati’s illness, as well. I think you’d find it hard to make a convincing case against my providing a force of men to protect you and your sisters, Jena.”

“I’ll try, despite that. I’m not letting you do this.” There was a feeling like a cold stone in my stomach, a dread of what was to come.

“You weren’t listening, Jena. I told you, none of you girls is to go beyond the house and courtyard. Most certainly not down to the village. Not until this is resolved to my satisfaction.”

Prisoners in our own home. Not so long ago, the fool was talking about love.

“And what if this spy of yours discovers nothing at all?”

“Then I will find a new man for next Full Moon—and then another man, and so on—until the truth comes out. You’d do far better to tell me now, Jena. Save yourself all that embarrass-ment. I could have the woods swept clean of these presences even before spring. It’s within my grasp, I feel it.” He was no longer seeing me; his eyes were full of blood and vengeance.

“I can’t believe you thought I might change my mind,” I said, backing away toward the door. “I can’t believe you thought I could ever possibly love you. The real monsters aren’t 269

folk from the Other Kingdom, Cezar. They’re men like you: men who won’t stop grasping for power until they’ve destroyed everything. You think you’re going to put an end to the folk of the forest. But if you don’t take a step back, you’re going to end up destroying your own life.”

Cezar looked at me. His dark eyes were bleak. “No, Jena,”

he said quietly. “I think that’s already been done.”

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Chapter Eleven

There was worse to come before bedtime. Cezar decided to perform a search of our room without warning, so we’d have no time to hide anything suspicious. He made Florica come all the way up the stairs and stand in the doorway lest I accuse him of improper conduct. Such a concern was ridiculous, given what he had threatened for Full Moon.

Before we could go to bed, we had to sit there and watch him rummage through all our things—from shoes to small-clothes to silk shawls, from trinkets and keepsakes to combs and scent pots—frowning and muttering. I was furious, but I sat there in silence and let him make his comments on our worn-out dancing slippers and the elegant gowns he had never seen us wear. I’d been able to give my sisters only a brief warning about his plans. Tati had her back to the room; I knew she was trying not to cry. She had pinned all her hopes on Full Moon.

“We like sewing,” Paula told Cezar as he lifted a fold of Iulia’s blue silk dancing gown. As a merchant, he would know 271

all too well the quality of the fabric, with its woven-in silver thread. “Aunt Bogdana approves of it as a pastime for young ladies.”

Cezar glanced at her sharply—it was evident he thought she was mocking him.

“All girls love to dream, Cezar,” Paula added. “All girls like to dress up, even when they have nowhere to go.”

He opened the little brass-bound lacquer box in which Paula kept her papers, but it seemed she had already moved them to safer keeping, for all he found was a pot of ink and a few split quills. He went around the chamber checking each window, each alcove, each joint in stones or boards, for secrets that might uncover themselves. All of us carefully avoided looking at the corner where the portal was. He picked up Gogu’s bowl and eyed the jug of water. He scrutinized my pillow, which was still slightly damp from last night. “Oh dear, Jena,”

he said.

Oh dear, yourself.

“You should ask yourself whether that creature is the key to your problems,” Cezar went on. “I have grave doubts about it.

It’s clearly no ordinary frog. Have you considered that it may be of another kind entirely? That it may be . . . influencing you?”

“A frog?” I made my voice scornful. “Give me a little more credit, Cezar. You already know I have a mind of my own.” I would apologize to Gogu later.

Cezar kept us up until Stela was dropping with weariness.

At last he seemed to be done—his flinty expression told me he was far from satisfied.

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“Finished?” I inquired as he stood in the center of the room, hands on hips. All around him was disarray: clothing was spread out everywhere, shoes and other bits and pieces littered the stone floor. Furniture had been dragged out from walls, and even the bedding had been turned upside down.

“For now,” he said. “I don’t for a moment believe Paula’s story of sewing for fun and dressing up for amusement. What would Uncle Teodor think of such reckless squandering of fine fabrics and trimmings, I wonder?”

“In fact,” Iulia said, “we never take anything without asking Father if it’s all right. He doesn’t mind. Sewing’s a good wifely skill.” She was glowering; Cezar’s reprimand at the party would not be soon forgotten.

“A man would be out of his mind to look for a wife among the five of you,” Cezar said, his tone chilly. “A washed-out bag of bones; a domineering shrew; a cheap flirt; a know-it-all scholar; and an impressionable child—a man would do best to stay clear of the lot of you.”

“We’d be very happy if you’d do just that, Cezar,” I said quietly. I was fighting to keep my dignity and not shriek at him like the shrew he’d named me. “We’d love for you to go back to Vârful cu Negur˘a and leave us to our own devices until Father comes home—”

“That’s enough, Jena.” There was something in his voice that silenced me. At that moment I had no doubt at all that he would go through with his threat. Unless, somehow, he could be stopped. Unless there was someone powerful enough to prevent it.

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“Good night, then,” I said politely. The others sat on their beds, watching in complete silence. Cezar went out without a word.

One by one, my sisters fell asleep. Outside, snow was drifting down onto the many roofs of Piscul Dracului—I could not see it, but I could sense it in the quality of the silence. The four colored windows were winter-dark. On the little table by my bedside, one candle burned. The castle was still, save for the creaks and groans and shifting murmurs an old house makes as the winter chill touches its bones.

“Gogu?” I whispered.

I’m here, Jena.

“We have to do something before Full Moon. Something to stop Cezar from going through with this.” It was a puzzle. We could not use our portal until the night of Full Moon. I had no intention of crossing over at Dark of the Moon again, to visit that realm of shadows and trickery, and Tati had promised Sorrow she would not. That meant we could not seek help or give warnings in the Other Kingdom until the night Cezar put his henchman in our bedchamber: too late. “The simplest thing would be not to go at all,” I murmured. “Not to use the portal.

At least, that way, Cezar wouldn’t find it. But he will eventually, I know it. He’s so angry he’s forgotten what’s wrong and what’s right.” I shivered, imagining where that anger might take him. If he threatened violence against one of my sisters, I’d have no choice but to give up the secret. Would he stoop so low? What he had said about Tati, about folk in the village 274

suggesting that the Night People had begun to change her, was most terrifying of all. That rumor could be a powerful tool to force our obedience.

Dragu¸

˘ ta

“What? Oh. You mean because folk say she’s the real power in the wildwood? But is she? She’s never put in an appearance, Gogu. And I’m starting to doubt the magic mirror story. Why would her mirror be there at Dark of the Moon when she isn’t?”

Mirror? What mirror?

I remembered that I had not given him a full account of that night. That was probably just as well. “You think Dr˘agu¸ta would help us? Grigori did say to me, If you truly need her, you’ll find her. So maybe she can be found even when it’s not Full Moon. I’ve heard other stories that say she comes out often, like the dwarves, but not always in her own form.” I suddenly remembered the white owl. “Gogu, do you really think we should try this?”

Silence. He was shivering the way he did when we crossed the lake. I felt cold, too. There would be guards to get past, Cezar’s wrath to face if he found out I had gone into the forest, a trip in the cold to the Deadwash, and then . . . Finding Dr˘agu¸ta, without knowing where to look, might prove harder than Grigori had indicated. We might wander about in the snow until we were dying of cold, and get nowhere.

“We have to do it, Gogu,” I whispered. “You and I. I’m not putting any of my sisters in danger—this is bad enough already.”

D-dawn, Gogu conveyed to me. First thing tomorrow, before the g-guards come.

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I peered at him. In the candlelight he was just a green blob on the pillow. “You can stay home if you don’t want to do this, Gogu,” I said, realizing that he was as terrified as I was. “I can go by myself.” At Dark of the Moon, I’d left him behind. The thought of doing that again, of braving the witch of the wood without my dearest companion by my side, made me feel sick.

But it was unfair to drag him along when he was so scared.

You d-don’t want me to c-come? You would l-leave me b-behind again?

His whole body drooped.

“Of course I want you, stupid! I’m petrified of going alone.

I’m just trying to spare you.”

Then we will g-go together, Jena.

“You realize I’ve got no idea how to find her?”

We’ll find her.

“I hope so,” I said, sitting up to blow out the candle. “And I hope she’s prepared to help us. Good night, Gogu. Sweet dreams. Up at dawn, remember.”

This pillow is my best place, Jena.

“What?” I squinted at him in the darkness, but his eyes were already closed.

I settled Gogu in my pocket, wrapped in the sheepskin mitten, and tiptoed downstairs with the first lightening of the sky.

Florica already had the fire roaring in the kitchen stove and was kneading dough on the well-scoured table. Petru sat by the stove, his hands curled around a steaming cup of last night’s soup. Both looked up as I tried to pass the open doorway in my hooded cloak with my winter boots in my hands.