They handed their invitations to the attendant-wearing a goat’s head and mittens that looked like a goat’s feet-who promptly announced them by reading their names backward-“Callim’ac Itsohd
Sogihcra dna Atnares’uc Ana Inet’o”-impressing Ana with his facility. Inside the ballroom, the ca’-and-cu’ milled in interweaving knots of conversation. For a moment, Ana was overwhelmed at the sight of the upper society of Nessantico in all their grand finery and elaborate costumes. At the far end of the hall, an orchestra was playing- properly this time, though they were seated high above the crowd in the frame of a gigantic crystalline figure, his massive outstretched hands the seats for the musicians, his flesh a carapace of colored glasses, his bones white stone. A thousand candles blazed everywhere in the statue’s frame, and twin fires blazed in the sockets of his skull. Red liquid poured from his open mouth and splashed into a pool in which the giant knelt, as if praying.
Before the strange figure, the crowd swayed and glittered and preened, their intermingled conversations nearly overwhelming the musicians. They danced in pairs and circles and lines; they gathered around the periphery of the dance floor to talk-and many of them were staring at Ana and the Archigos standing by the door. Ana began to feel intimidated and a bit frightened, sweat beading on her forehead under the powder she wore, but the Archigos took her arm. “Remember,” he whispered to her, “most of them are just as uncertain as you are, maybe more so. They’ve just had more practice hiding it. You are O’Teni cu’Seranta, and you arrived with the Archigos. That puts you above nearly everyone you see.”
“I’m not used to that.” Her voice cracked, barely above a whisper as she leaned toward him, his head only level with her elbows.
“
She linked her hand to his arm. They went down the stairs together, into the whispering sea of faces and costumes.
“O’Teni. .” she heard from a dozen directions as they reached the floor, and she nodded politely to the greetings. A waiter dressed as an ape offered her a glass; she took it and sipped sweetened, chilled wine.
She stayed close to the Archigos, following him as he made his way through the crowds, away from the dancers and into the relative quiet of one of the alcoves.
“Archigos,” she heard a voice call. “I must say that it takes a certain bravery to wear grave shrouds. I would be too afraid to dress that way, thinking that I was tempting fate.”
A trio of shadows detached themselves from near a fireplace along the wall, where cold green flames leaped up from a pool of water set in the hearth-most likely created by another teni-spell. Ana’s eyes widened: in the uncertain light of the water-flames, one of them appeared to be a muscular and bare-breasted woman walking on her hands, but as they approached, she realized that what she’d thought was skin was not flesh at all, but cloth bound tightly to a frame and painted to look realistic, that the “woman’s” head was bewigged and waxen, and that a man’s features peered from just above the frozen skirt, his hands encased in shoes and his feet clad in hosiery that looked like hands. Ana shivered: the sight was not pleasant.
A genuine woman stood next to the man, dressed all in colorful feathers that frothed around her attractive face and accentuated her figure, with equally flamboyant wings sprouting from her back. The third person was an older man, heavier and double-chinned, and wearing a simple peasant’s costume, with his face artfully streaked with black paint that must have been intended to represent dirt.
He was smiling at them, and Ana recognized him suddenly: A’Teni Orlandi ca’Cellibrecca. “And my guess is that this must be O’Teni cu’Seranta,” ca’Cellibrecca said, and Ana realized it was his voice that had spoken a moment ago.
“A’Teni ca’Cellibrecca,” the Archigos said. “I appreciate your concern for me, and I hope that your rags don’t presage a loss of your own fortune. Death, at least, is over and done with. Poverty lingers.”
Ca’Cellibrecca sniffed as the Archigos waved a hand toward Ana. “I suppose I should be giving everyone a formal introduction. A’Teni ca’Cellibrecca, this is indeed O’Teni Ana cu’Seranta.”
Ca’Cellibrecca bowed his head and gave the sign of Cenzi; Ana did the same, bending a bit lower with her bow as etiquette demanded. “I was there when you intervened with the assassin, O’Teni,” ca’Cellibrecca said. “Very impressive, I must say. You’ve been well-Gifted by Cenzi, if all the rumors are true.” His smile seemed as cold and false as the flames in the fireplace. There was a predatory look in his eyes, as if he were a snake looking at a mouse in front of him. Ana found herself wanting to look away, and forced herself to lift her chin and return his smile.
“Rumors tend to become exaggerated with each telling,” she said. “I wouldn’t believe them, A’Teni.”
“Ah, and modest, too,” ca’Cellibrecca said. “I’m pleased to meet you in person at last; the Archigos has sadly kept you away from me, though I know he must have had good reasons to do so. And I forget myself.
O’Teni cu’Seranta, I would like to introduce my daughter, Francesca, and her husband, Estraven, who serves here in Nessantico as U’Teni of the Old Temple on the Isle A’Kralji. No doubt you’ve heard some of his Admonitions, since I know your family occasionally attends services there.” The two bowed and gave the sign-Estraven doing so awk-wardly with his shoe-clad hands; Ana noticed that Francesca favored her husband with an odd look of mingled amusement and disgust.
A clot of people entered the alcove and stood near the fireplace, looking at the watery fire and holding their hands in the leaping, bright flames. Their laughter took Ana’s eyes toward them; one of them, a slim man dressed in the robes of a teni and wearing a simple black domino mask, nodded to her and she looked away again.
“The Kraljica has outdone herself this year,” ca’Cellibrecca was saying. “This is a very impressive Gschnas, one we’ll no doubt remember.
She and the A’Kralj should be making their entrance soon, and I understand the Kraljica’s new portrait is to be unveiled at midnight. Have you seen it yet?”
“I’ve not had that pleasure,” the Archigos told him. “The painter ci’Recroix has insisted that it remained covered until tonight. But I’ve seen other of his works, and they are most impressive-the figures look as if they could walk out of the very canvas.”
“Then I will truly be looking forward to seeing what he has done with our Kraljica. I wonder if she’ll dress again as the Spirit of Nessantico for the ball? That was an impressive costume she wore last year.”
“She has told me that tonight she will be Vucta, the Great Night Herself,” the Archigos answered. “She has had several of our more creative e’teni working with her.”
“I’m certain that she will outdo herself once more,” ca’Cellibrecca responded. He turned back to Ana then, looking her up and down slowly and obviously, as if appraising her. He spoke to the Archigos as he did so. “Have you given any more thought to our last conversation, Archigos?”
“I have given it all the reflection that it required, A’Teni,” the Archigos answered, and that brought ca’Cellibrecca’s gaze back to the dwarf.
“Indeed,” the man said. “Then I’d love to speak further with you. If you’d excuse us? O’Teni cu’Seranta, Francesca. .”
The Archigos nodded to Ana as ca’Cellibrecca ushered him away.
U’Teni Estraven was obviously fuming at ca’Cellibrecca’s disregard of him, his face suffused above the hem of the dress. “Francesca, I really think. .” he began, and stopped as the woman raised her hand.
“Not here, Estraven. Please.” Her tone was imperious and sharp, the u’teni’s mouth snapped shut in response. Francesca favored Ana with a smile. “I apologize, O’Teni,” she said. “If you’ll be so kind as to excuse my husband. So pleased to meet you, and I hope you enjoy the Gschnas tonight. Perhaps we can talk later; I’d love to have a chance to get to know you better. Vatarh has said so much about you.”
“Yes,” Ana said. “Of course, Vajica, U’Teni. Later.”
Francesca smiled, bowed, and gave the sign of Cenzi, her husband doing the same a moment later. Ana returned the gesture. Before the couple had gone four steps, she heard Estraven start in again. “I won’t be treated this way, Francesca. Your vatarh. .”
“They make a pleasant couple, don’t you think?”
Karl ci’Vliomani
Karl attached himself to a group that was moving in the direction of the alcove into which the Archigos had disappeared with his companion. As Karl laughed and joked with them around the water-fire, he watched the Archigos, who was conversing with A’Teni ca’Cellibrecca, his daughter and her husband. He realized, with a start,
