Wildwood Dancing

myself.

“Yes, my mother has one,” Anghel said, holding me at arm’s length lest he come in contact with Gogu, even through a layer of fabric. “Hideous little thing. It sheds everywhere. One can’t wear black.”

“What a trial for you,” I murmured, calculating how soon I could politely excuse myself.

Looks like a stoat. Gogu’s head was out of the pocket. Sounds even sillier than the first one. You can do better.

I danced with Vlad, whose uncle was a voivode. Vlad was better-looking than the others—tall and broad-shouldered, with thick dark hair. His manners were exemplary. We chatted about the weather and the music. We talked about his home near Bra?sov and his horse and his hunting dogs. He complimented me on my hair and on the party, which Aunt Bogdana had told him I organized all by myself, and on the red gown. He asked me for a second dance and I accepted. He fetched a little platter of pastries, which we sat down to share. Gogu had retreated to the depths of the pocket. Quite against logic, the sense I was getting from him now was: No. No. No.

“I have to ask,” said Vlad, smiling to reveal perfectly even white teeth, “whether it’s true you have a pet frog. Someone told me you carry it around everywhere.”

“Well, yes,” I said cautiously. “His name’s Gogu. I rescued him a few years ago.”

I waited for the nice young man to shrink away, to make 237

an embarrassed comment, or to fall silent. Instead, he leaned forward.

“May I see?”

I was charmed. I got Gogu out and held him on my palm, where he embarrassed me by cowering in abject terror. “He’s usually quite friendly,” I said. “I don’t know what’s come over him.”

Vlad reached out to touch, and such was the shock emanat-ing from Gogu’s small body that I drew my hand away.

“Oh, yes, I find them fascinating,” Vlad enthused. “I have a big collection myself, you know. It’s a special study of mine.”

“Really?” I began to wonder whether it was possible that there might be a man who was not only eligible, but genuinely suitable—someone I could actually come to like. From over by the hearth, Cezar was staring at us with an expression dark as a thundercloud.

“Yes, I have one of every species to be found in the Carpathian region, and a number of more exotic ones as well. But nothing quite like your little fellow. I can’t tell exactly what he is. You realize how very unusual it is for him to be active in winter. A scientific curiosity of the first order.”

“Yes, well, I think Gogu’s one of a kind,” I said.

“I can see that we have a great deal in common, Jenica,” said Vlad. “I’ll ask Mother if she can arrange a return visit in the spring—I could show you my laboratory. I’ve devised a wonderful new method for preserving my specimens. They keep more or less indefinitely, you know. I start with a few drops of ether on a cloth, and then —”

238

“Excuse me.” I felt sick. In my hands, Gogu was trembling like a leaf. “I think I hear Aunt Bogdana calling me.”

I fled to the safe company of my aunt and her friends. Tati was no longer with them. I scanned the crowded room, wondering whether she had gone back upstairs already.

“Tatiana is such a lovely dancer,” observed my aunt’s friend Elsvieta. “And what an exquisite gown . . .”

“If it’s possible to obtain something similar,” said another woman, “I think your son will be flooded with orders after tonight, Bogdana.”

“You’re a nice little dancer, too, Jenica,” Elsvieta went on, smiling at me. “I could see my son was enjoying himself. Vlad is rather too fond of his own company and his experiments. I hope you may come to visit us in the spring. A little riding, perhaps, and some music. It would be so good for him.”

“I’m sure Jena would welcome that,” said Aunt Bogdana, alarming me. “If her father approves, of course. We hope very much that Teodor will be home by springtime. Jena, who is that young man dancing with your sister?”

I looked across the room and froze. Maybe there was no black coat tonight, but I knew instantly who it was, and my heart filled with terror. Tati was in a trance, moving in his arms like a graceful bird. Sorrow wore a mask— black, of course—which didn’t do much to disguise his snow-pale skin and burning dark eyes. He had made some concessions to the nature of the gathering. His hair was tied back at the nape of the neck, and he wore a white shirt under a traditional waistcoat: black, embroidered with red flowers. Black trousers and boots 239

completed the outfit. Around his neck was our mother’s silver chain. He held Tati reverently, as if she were the one thing he valued in the world. Their eyes remained locked as they went through the steps of the dance—there might as well have been nobody else here.

“He dances well,” commented Elsvieta. “But he does look rather . . . intense. Who is he, Jena?”

I thought frantically. “Er—I think he came up with Judge Rinaldo’s son, Lucian,” I mumbled. “I’m not sure what his name is.”

“The mask is too much of an affectation,” said another woman. “But he’s quite striking, isn’t he, with that very dark hair and the pale complexion? Your sister certainly seems to think so.”

I looked around wildly for Cezar and saw him near the passageway to the kitchen, talking to Iulia. He looked distracted and she looked miserable. I muttered an excuse and dived into the crowd. What was Sorrow thinking? Did the man have a death wish? And how could Tati have encouraged him? They’d planned this—the butterfly dress proved that. I had to get rid of him now, immediately. If Cezar realized where Sorrow had come from, our sedate party would descend into violent, bloody tragedy.

They had left the hall before I reached the spot where I had seen them—close to the steps up to the terrace from which Tati and I had made our terrifying passage to the Other Kingdom at Dark of the Moon. The door stood slightly open. Through the gap, the freezing air of the winter night seeped into the crowded chamber.