Wildwood Dancing

“Come downstairs! Quick!”

My heart plummeted. What now? I got up and opened the door.

No fewer than three sisters were clustered outside, their expressions mingling excitement and anxiety.

“There’s a man here,” Iulia babbled, “for the quest. Cezar’s absolutely beaming! I think he thought he’d have to do it himself—”

“So you need to get the potion ready—” put in Paula.

“Quick, quick!” urged Stela, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward the steps.

We reached our chamber. Marta was down in the kitchen with Florica right now, waiting to find out if there would be any call for her services.

“Make sure none of your party clothing is in sight,” I told my sisters. “We want both Marta and this man asleep before we show any signs of getting ready. Where’s that ? tuica??”

303

We had a silver tray ready, with a pretty Venetian flask and a set of matching glasses, though none of us actually drank plum brandy. Tonight, Tati and I would make the gesture of taking a small glass each, just so our victims would not be too suspicious.

“Put the marked glasses on this side,” I said. “Good. Now the potion . . .” I retrieved Dr?agu?ta’s tiny bottle from its hiding place under my mattress, uncorked it, and let two drops fall into each of the two glasses that had an unobtrusive ink dot on their stems. “There. We just pour the ? tuica? on top, and—if the witch was telling the truth—this man won’t detect a thing, and nor will Marta. Then we wait. I hope it works quickly. I can’t believe Cezar is making us let a stranger into our bedchamber.”

We sat through supper. There were so many guards now that Florica couldn’t feed them all in the kitchen, so she had to send provisions out to the barn. Cezar failed utterly to conceal his excitement. The look in his eyes sickened me.

There was no conversation. Florica brought dishes in and out; Cezar smiled his little superior smile; I divided the

? ?

mamaliga? and shared out the boiled mutton and pickled cabbage.

My sisters ate what they were given without a word. Apart from Tati, that is: she cut up her meat into tiny pieces and prod-

?

ded her mamalig

? a? with a spoon. I didn’t see her eat so much as a crumb.

After that, things grew more and more unreal. A man was waiting outside in the hallway, cap in hands, feet shuffling awkwardly. He looked rather pale. Our cousin introduced us by name, as if this were a polite tea party.

304

“Now, Ioan,” said Cezar expansively, “you understand what is required of you tonight?”

“Yes, my lord. Find the entry; go in; come out; make sure I don’t attract notice. Bring back information. I’m sure the young ladies will assist me.”

Cezar raised his brows. “Well, good luck to you. I’ll be waiting at dawn to let you out.”

“What do you mean, let him out?” I asked, alarmed. “We’ll be doing that. The bolt’s on the inside.”

“I have made suitable provision,” Cezar said. “There’s to be no trickery, no funny business, understand?”

“I understand that it excites you to shame your own kins-folk in front of strangers,” I said, seething.

“You’ve brought it on yourselves.” Cezar’s tone was dismissive. “Go on, then. Take Ioan here up to the bedchamber and get on with things. Where’s that frog, by the way? I haven’t seen it at all lately. I must say I very much prefer taking supper without the wretched creature dripping all over the table and slurping its soup.”

“I let him go,” I said through gritted teeth. “This way, Ioan.”

There was indeed a new lock, on the outside. One of the men must have installed it while we were at supper. When all of us were in the bedchamber, including Marta, who had toiled up the stairs after us, Cezar closed the door and we heard him slide the bolt across. The inside bolt had not been removed. I fastened that as well. Then we all stood about, awkward and silent: we sisters, our chaperone, and the unfortunate man.

“Would you care for a drink?” Tati asked politely.

305

Ioan muttered something and took the glass she offered.

“Marta?” Iulia favored our chaperone with her most charming smile. “I’m sure you’d enjoy a small glass?”

“Thank you, Mistress Iulia.” Marta was clearly embarrassed by the whole situation. She accepted her glass and retreated to sit on the very edge of her pallet, ill at ease.

All of us tried hard not to stare at either of them. We were deeply suspicious of the contents of Dr?agu?ta’s potion. Tati poured drinks for herself and for me; we perched on the end of our bed, sipping.

“Chilly weather, isn’t it?” observed Paula brightly.

“Brilliant observation, considering it’s winter,” snapped Iulia, on edge with nerves.

“That’s rude, Iulia,” hissed Stela.

There was a sigh from Marta’s corner. When we turned to look, she was collapsing onto her pillow, eyes shut. Iulia retrieved the glass before it could fall from her limp fingers, and Paula tucked the blankets over her. Ioan