couple of saleswomen were filling a rolling clothes rack with gowns. As I studied the tall, elegant, perfectly groomed, perfectly coiffed, chicly dressed women, I wanted to slink back out of the store. My professional woman’s uniform—straight gray skirt, black jacket, scoop-neck pale yellow shell, sensible pumps—seemed unbelievably dowdy. I gazed at the dresses on impossibly tall, slender mannequins. I was short. Really short. I was going to look so stupid in these clothes. No one this short could possibly—
“Oh, Linnet, good. I think we’ve got some great choices for you,” Kate said, and pulled me over. “This is Glynis and Julie. They’re going to help us.”
“How do you do,” I mumbled. “You’ve got your work cut out for you,” I added.
“Nonsense,” trilled Glynis. “You’re lovely.”
Then we were into it. It was like an explosion in a fabric store. Silk, taffeta, satin, chiffon. A rainbow of colors. There was one red dress with a gathered bodice that kept the left shoulder bare, but created a wide strap effect across the right shoulder. The dress flowed to the floor and the fabric looked like it would cling to the legs. A bit of material formed a train that flowed out behind the skirt. It was gorgeous and it had me fantasizing about walking down a curving staircase to meet an elegant gentleman, taking his arm, exiting to our waiting limo—
I reluctantly and sadly put it aside. “I really need to be able to move easily. Would it be awful if I didn’t wear a floor-length gown?” I asked.
“Not at all,” Julie said, and she pulled down a dress of deep indigo blue with silver and white embroidered flowers.
It had a one-shoulder fitted bodice; an asymmetric hemline; beaded, stylized flowers in trapunto on chiffon. The design of the flowers reminded me of Elizabethan crewelwork, and it was done using gold and silver thread and silk embroidery floss. I had a feeling that the asymmetric hemline would leave my right leg bare nearly to the hip. My left arm was going to be bare, the right arm partially covered by translucent chiffon of a pale teal color.
I touched the material and felt it catch on the rough tips of my fingers. I snatched my hand back. “Don’t worry, it’s not that fragile,” Kate said with a laugh. “Go try it on.”
“Would you like a glass of champagne?” Glynis asked.
“Uh, it might be a little early,” I said.
“I’ll make it a mimosa,” she said with a wink.
“Well, okay.”
Julie, carrying the dress reverently draped over her arms, led me back to the dressing rooms. No tiny cubicles here. Each fitting room was large, carpeted, and lined with mirrors. There was also a comfortable armchair. “For the gentleman in a lady’s life if he would like to see the transformation. Otherwise we have a waiting room in front with magazines, comfortable chairs and couches, and a beverage selection,” Julie explained.
“Oh,” I said, inanely.
Glynis arrived with my mimosa in a crystal goblet. I gulped down a sip. Fortunately there was more orange juice than champagne.
Julie hung the dress, and they both stepped out while I removed my clothes. “Ready for me to help you?”Glynis called.
“Uh, yes, please.”
They came back in and zipped me into the dress. I kept my eyes focused on the dressing room door. I didn’t want to see. I knew I was going to look totally stupid. Julie turned me around to face a mirror. “There.”
“I don’t look like me,” I whispered as I studied my image in the dressing room mirror.
“It looks wonderful on you,” the two fashion amazons said in chorus.
“Let’s go show Ms. Billingham,” Glynis said, and pulled me back out into the store proper.
I stood on a little pedestal while they circled me like sharks, tugging at the material, pinching in the material at my back, pulling up material to expose more of my hip. Pins appeared to reinforce these changes. I couldn’t tell if they were improvements or not. They were so subtle and I was so overwhelmed.
“How quickly can you make the alterations?” Kate asked. “The ceremony is day after tomorrow.”
“We’ll have them done today and you can pick up the dress tomorrow. Or we can have it messengered over to Ms. Ellery,” Julie said as she plucked another pin out of the pincushion she wore on her wrist and reached for the hem of the skirt.
“Wait,” Glynis ordered. “We need the right shoes.” A less exalted salesperson darted away. “Open-toed, ankle strap,” Glynis called after her.
I suddenly remembered trying to get out of my shoes during one of the werewolf attacks last year, and how the ankle strap had made it impossible for me to shed my high heels quickly.
“No strap,” I contradicted. “I want to be able to kick them off. If my feet start to hurt,” I added awkwardly.
“And a purse,” Kate added.
The girl returned with a pair of silver shoes that picked up the color and sparkle of the trapunto flowers. Using Julie’s shoulder for balance I slipped them on and got three inches taller. The purse was a Debbie Brooks clutch bag decorated with a multicolored rhinestone dragonfly swooping over enamel flowers. Kate reached up and pulled my hair out of its twist. If fell onto my shoulders.
Everyone clapped. “Oh, yes, definitely wear your hair down,” Kate said.
I stared at the image in the mirror. I looked sophisticated, chic, maybe even a little pretty. Now, if Qwendar just wouldn’t fuck everything up maybe I could be a princess for a night.
Parlan, flanked by six gorgeous Alfar, was waiting at the curb at LAX. They had a lot of luggage, as in
“Sorry. None of us were sure what to pack,” Parlan said.
“May we meet this lady?” said the tallest of the Alfar. His long black hair was confined in a ponytail. “Though I assume her to be Linnet.”
“Right you are,” I said, holding out my hand. “Linnet Ellery.”
“Ladlaw,” he said. Then he pointed at the other five, a name accompanying each thrust of his forefinger. “Aalet, Cildar, Donnal, Zevra, and Tulan.”
“Pleased to meet you. Thank you all for coming.”
“Will we get to ride on the airplane going back?” Aalet asked, his eagerness and excitement showing.
“Absolutely.”
“Wonderful.” Tulan cuffed Aalet across the back of the head lightly and affectionately.
I recognized the behavior. “Brothers?” I hazarded a guess.
“How did you know?” Aalet marveled.
“I have one,” I said.
“Condolences,” Tulan said, but the word didn’t match the affectionate glance he bestowed on his sibling.
I called Kobe and outlined my problem.
“I’ll have a limo over to you in about fifteen minutes. We keep a lot near the airport.”
“Thanks. You are a life saver.”
I hung up the phone. I looked at Parlan. “Why don’t you ride with me in the van? We can talk.”
The limo arrived, luggage was loaded in my van, Alfar in the limo. Parlan climbed in with me and we headed out. We negotiated the long horseshoe that was LAX, reached Century Boulevard, and headed for the freeway.
“So many people,” Parlan said softly. “In all of Fey I don’t think there are as many people as there are in this city. No wonder they worry.”
“So, you think Qwendar is right?”
“I think I understand why he wants us separated,”
“And what do you think?” I asked.
His eyes clouded with pain and sorrow. “I think that while I know I’m human, I don’t want to be cut off from my own people.”
