ends-scraps of material, beads, bracelets strung together-to his tunic to lend him an air of being subtly different from the rest, of being a spirit from that parallel world that intersects our own.
Owen looked them over and nodded, satisfied. 'I hope you are ready, because now we see.'
'Where's Ginny?'
'She's at the house already, helping the audience settle in.'
They marched, a ragtag troop, through the quiet dusk of the jaran camp. The walk seemed to last forever to Diana, past the dark hulking tents, past smoldering campfires, toward the murmur of voices, toward the people gathered on the ring of empty ground in front of which their stage sat. She caught a glimpse of the audience as they came up behind the screens: a huge mass of bodies, uncountable, waiting for them rather like a predator waits for its prey. She recognized no individual faces; it was too dim for that. The stage was lit by lanterns. One screen without its fabric center had been set on stage, to form a doorway through which the players could pass from one scene, or one world, to the next. No other scenery existed, only the players and what they gave to their audience.
Yomi called the five minute warning. Gwyn and Anahita shook out their tunics, preparing to enter. Joseph stood ready at stage left with their changes of costume, since they were doubling parts. Owen vanished around the stage to go sit in the house. The play began.
Diana was aware of the audience only as an intent, listening beast, but the beast was theirs. The force of its concentration was like a pressure on them, faltering here and there when the scene passed its understanding, then snapping back, fixed and tangible.
Though the night was cool, Gwyn was sweating from the exertion of playing two major roles. But he was magnificent, as always: his Theseus was martial and strong, his Oberon utterly unlike, ethereal and just slightly spiteful. Even the audience could not confuse the two, though they were played by the same man. As for Anahita- well-Diana had always thought she played Hippolyta too stridently and Titania as a hair-brained twit, but she was powerful, nevertheless.
The lovers fled to another part of the forest. Love became confused, and then was righted at last. The audience did not laugh once, but their attention did not waver.
Puck gave his final speech and extinguished half of the lanterns. Exit.
Dead silence.
Behind the screens, Diana looked at Hal and Hal looked at Gwyn and Gwyn shrugged. A rustling noise carried to them.
'They're all standing up,' said Yomi.
Gwyn chuckled suddenly. 'Who ever said they'd know how to applaud?' he asked. He wiped sweat from his forehead and shook the moisture off his hand.
Owen appeared, looking intent and excited. 'Di, where are you? Come on, come on.''
'Come on where?' she asked, shrinking back.
'The rest of you, too, up on the stage-this isn't a bow, they won't understand that-but don't you see? We can cement the link. We can complete the circle in their minds. The masque of a wedding followed by an actual wedding. Come, Diana.'
'Owen, wait,' said Joseph. With economical skill, he stripped the makeup from Di's face and then adorned her with the costume jewelry Seshat had brought. 'That will do. You may go.'
Owen grabbed Diana's wrist and dragged her away, back around the screens. By the time they got to the front, the other actors had filed onto the stage and formed themselves into a neat semicircle. The audience was standing, murmuring now, but Diana saw that their silence, their rise to their feet, was their way of showing respect for what had just been given them. A clot of people stood at the foot of the platform, but only one of them mattered. Her heart began to pound. He stared at her, and he looked nervous, worried even. Owen released her ten paces from Anatoly, and she halted.
Anatoly wore the brilliant red shirt of the jaran riders, embroidered in a fantastic pattern down the sleeves and along the collar. Gold-studded epaulets shone on his shoulders. Gold braid lined the rim of his black boots. He wore two necklaces at his throat and gold bands on each wrist, and his saber's hilt glinted in the lantern light. A belt of gold plates girdled his wrist. Then his grandmother stepped forward and addressed a long speech to Owen. It had the cadence of poetry.
Tess Soerensen stepped forward into the gap between the two pairs. She turned to Owen. 'Elizaveta Sakhalin presents to you her grandson, who, in accordance with the traditions of the people, has come to bow to the parits and the relatives of the bride and to ask to be taken to your camp as husband to this woman. He brings with him a string of fine horses, he brings his armor and his weapons, and he brings his skill at fighting. To his bride he brings a new set of bow and arrows. His family brings these presents for the bride's family: wine and milk, dry fruit, meat, and a silk scarf to bind your camps together. They bring also blessings to this young couple, for their happiness and well-being.' She paused, and then with an open hand gestured to Owen.
He smiled. Diana realized abruptly that Owen had rehearsed this all along and simply not told her, or possibly anyone else, about it. He lifted a hand and Joseph appeared, bearing gifts in his hands: foodstuffs, clothing, carved chess set. Diana felt cold and hot all at once, and because she did not know where else to look, she looked at Anatoly. His gaze, on her, was intense, and she clung to it as to a lifeline.
'More strange than true,' ' Owen began, and in his pleasant baritone, he reeled off the entire speech.
Tess's lips quirked up as he finished. 'How am I supposed to translate that?' she asked. 'In whatever way it is most appropriate.' Tess spoke at length, her phrases cadenced as Sakhalin's had been, a ritual that was generations old. Gifts were brought forward and exchanged. Tess beckoned Diana forward, and then Anatoly, and then she retired. Anatoly put out his hands. Diana took them, clutched at them. They were warm and strong. Elizaveta Sakhalin and Owen came forward and bound the silk scarf around their clasped hands. More words were spoken. Then, sparking, a huge fire burst into flame out on the flat of ground beyond. Two drums beat out a rapid rhythm, and pipes came in with a melody. Under the concealing silk, Anatoly twined his fingers in with hers and stroked her palms with his thumbs. The caress lit fires all along her, and she swayed toward him, wanting nothing more at that moment than to be alone with him.
'Anatoly,' said his grandmother, scolding. He stopped what he was doing, but his entire face lit with a smile, a smile that was meant for Diana only, intimate, exultant. Daring much, Diana tilted her head up and kissed him, briefly, on the lips. He whispered words into her ear, another caress, and then pushed back and unwound the scarf from around their hands and tied it around her waist like a belt. Then he turned and left her, walked over to his family and a moment later Sonia Orzhekov had taken him out to dance. Diana gaped after them.
'Diana.' Appearing abruptly beside her, Bakhtiian bowed. His presence was as powerful as the fire's. 'It is traditional for a new bride to dance on her wedding night. I hope you will excuse my immodesty in asking you to dance.'
'Of course,' she said, wondering what on earth he meant. But it quickly became apparent to her that she was not meant to spend any time with Anatoly at all, during this celebration. She caught glimpses of him, dancing with other women, speaking with men out on the fringes of the celebration, glancing her way, once, his gaze catching on her, his smile, and then he was drawn away by someone else.
The actors emerged, pale without their makeup, to congratulate her. She danced. She felt confused and disoriented, but she went from one instant to the next and tried not to think beyond that.
'Well,' said Anahita, coming up beside her much later. 'I see that Marco Burckhardt isn't at the celebration. I haven't seen him all day. What do you think of that?'
'I think you're just jealous he was never interested in you,' Diana snapped.
'Bravo,' said Gwyn softly behind her as Anahita flounced away. 'Congratulations, Diana.'
'Thank you. Owen made a spectacle out of it, didn't he?'
'Owen can't help himself. But I assure you that it was impressive.'
'Did he have it rehearsed all along? How did he know to bring presents? Where did he get them? Why didn't he tell me?'
Gwyn chuckled. 'I think you were part of the experiment. As for the rest, Owen always does his research.
You ought to know that, Diana. If you hadn't provided this wonderful opportunity for him, he'd have had to invent it. Ah, here comes your husband. I'll leave you now.' He kissed her on the cheek and retreated.
Anatoly strode toward her, looking purposeful. His grandmother and several members of his family walked at
