mirror. When I thought he’d had enough time to get to South Avenue, I checked that my mask and knife were secure, then slipped sideways through doorways because my wings wouldn’t let me pass through head-on.
As I left the house and darkness closed in, I tried to imagine myself having fun tonight. I tried to imagine myself smiling and laughing and maybe ending up in someone’s arms by the last dance, like the magic of the masquerade was real and could help you find the match to your soul.
I couldn’t imagine myself doing any of that, but that was okay.
Tonight, I wasn’t Ana.
Chapter 21
Masquerade
COOL AIR SLITHERED around my dress, ruffling the edges around my calves. The breeze pushed on my wings, so every step took a smidge more force than usual. It was unsettling, but by the time I reached the market field, I’d mostly compensated. If only I’d had the foresight to work that issue into dance practice.
The market field was gloriously lit with silver-tinged lights from the Councilhouse, and poles scattered over the field. The temple glowed; I carefully ignored that, as well as the accompanying twist in my gut.
People in costume drifted in as evening encroached. Hawks, bears, pronghorns. Someone had dressed as a troll — such bad taste — while an osprey flirted with everyone.
The market field filled with bright fish and ferrets. A sparrow chased a lizard, and they embraced. Hundreds of people swarmed across the field like herds of gemstones.
I glanced toward the landing atop the Councilhouse steps, where Tera and Ash would be dedicated later. Only a robin and house cat prowled there now, fussing with controls to something.
The robin stepped up to a microphone and cleared his throat. Meuric’s voice carried from the speakers fastened to the light poles. “Tonight, we celebrate the rededication of two souls.”
Costumed guests turned as one entity to face him. I was trapped in the back and couldn’t see around most of the crowd; I wondered what people on the other side of the temple did, where they were looking. The party stretched all across the market field.
“Every generation, our souls are reborn into new and unfamiliar bodies, as are the souls of those we love. Rarely does romantic love transcend incarnations. Rarely. Some souls, however, were created as matching pairs. Those Janan-blessed partnerships have continued over centuries. Millennia. Every generation, these souls are drawn together, regardless of their physical forms. Their love is pure and true.
“Tonight’s festivities celebrate the commitment between Tera and Ash. As they search for each other in this sea of unfamiliar faces, let us all remember that Janan created us with a purpose: to value one another, and to love.”
He stepped away as the opening chords of a pavane came through the speakers, and lights flooded the market field with a dreamy glow. Interesting that Meuric didn’t make his announcement before he changed clothes. It lent credit to my theory that I was the only one who cared about being anonymous tonight.
At least I knew how Meuric was dressed, so I’d be able to avoid him.
With the music playing, people began taking partners to dance. This pavane wasn’t one of Sam’s compositions, but it was pretty, different from what I was used to listening to. A chorus of strings and woodwinds sang across the evening.
I kept to the edges of the mass of dancers, though bodies still bumped against my wings. A few muttered apologies, while most either shot annoyed looks beneath their masks, or didn’t notice, and I felt like a jerk for wearing something so cumbersome.
Self-consciously, I walked a complete circle around the market field, followed by the sensation of being watched.
So much for anonymity.
Perhaps this was like my birth. Everyone already knew one another. They’d cheated, revealing identities beneath disguises, and I was the only one they didn’t know. The only new person.
A peacock tracked my progress from a light pole, but didn’t approach. Familiarity surrounded an owl and praying mantis who kept up with me, but I couldn’t peg who they were.
Sam had probably asked his friends to watch me. The thought had irritated me at the market, but after seeing Li again, I was sort of glad. Maybe I should have come with him. I shouldn’t have let my feelings get so bruised earlier. It wasn’t like I’d expected him to say he’d have chosen me over Ciana, even before I knew they’d been lovers.
A gray and white shrike turned away as I sensed a gaze from that direction, toward the Councilhouse. Ahead, a hunting hound stared.
I angled toward the southwestern edge of the field. Everything was beautiful, and the thousands of dancing people — that was wonderful. I was alone, though, with just a few of Sam’s friends staring from afar.
Or maybe Li. No telling if she was here or what she might be wearing. Suddenly, every tall, slender figure was suspect.
A ferret touched my arm. “Dance?”
I jumped, but I knew that voice. Armande.
He grinned beneath the whiskers and a mask of a mask, then drew me into the dance, allowing me to use the steps Stef had taught me. We went through the end of a galliard before he escorted me to a buffet I hadn’t seen before, filled with tiny sandwiches and pastries, upside-down paper cups next to urns of coffee and hot cider. Lace covered the table, along with dozens of portraits of a couple I assumed was Tera and Ash, though they wore different faces in each image.
“They must really love each other,” I breathed, before remembering I was in costume. I glanced at Armande to see if he noticed, but he just smiled.
“Your secret is safe with me. But you’re pretty identifiable, even in disguise.” He gave a one-shouldered shrug.
“Oh.” I blushed beneath my mask and took the coffee he offered. “How many lifetimes?”
“Fifty,” he said, and sipped his own drink. “Almost since the beginning. We don’t get many parties like this, but Tera and Ash are always good for one. Every generation.”
If they lived to be about seventy-five every life, that was 3,500 years together. I couldn’t imagine that kind of love.
“For the first few generations, they couldn’t stand being different ages or the same gender, so they used to kill each other in order to be reborn about the same time. No one could talk them out of it.”
I thought loving someone shouldn’t involve so much death. Not that I had any experience with that. “They’re both women now.”
He nodded. “They decided that dying all the time was too painful, and if they loved each other, it shouldn’t matter. Still”—he leaned closer—“when one dies now, the other does, too. I imagine it’s hard to be physically very old while your greatest love is learning to walk again.”
“I bet.” I finished my coffee and dropped the cup in a recycle bin.
Armande and I had a few more dances before he released me to a crow, all shiny black feathers on his mask and clothes. I didn’t know him, but he said something nice about my costume before passing me to a woman dressed as an elk.
I recognized some of my partners — Stef and Whit made appearances as a jewel-toned dragonfly and a lion — but plenty were strangers, as far as I could tell. We had fun. I found myself laughing and asking other people to dance with me, rather than wait to be acknowledged.
Maybe anonymity didn’t matter as much as I’d thought.
I found Sarit, a crest of gray feathers protruding from her black hair, and a bright mask covering the top half of her face. Sharp orange cheeks stood against the yellow silk. Long folds of gray cloth draped across her arms made wings — much better than mine.
“What are you?” I hadn’t seen that kind of bird in Range.
“Cockatiel.” She grinned beneath the wide, hooked beak. “They’re from the other side of the planet.”
