The fox-woman, whose name was Rust, stood behind Bess’s chair, her sharp eyes watching everything they did. Otto’s body had been removed. The eagle-man was nowhere to be seen.
All the other Masked Ones had gone back to dancing and playing music. But Lief saw them staring curiously at the companions whenever they thought they could do so without being noticed.
‘They keep their masks on even when they eat!’ Jasmine whispered in Lief’s ear.
And it was true. Even the children ate, drank and played with their masks firmly in place. It was fascinating, yet it made Lief uneasy. With faces so well hidden, it was impossible to tell what people were thinking. Only the eyes and hands provided clues.
Now that he was calmer, he could see that some of the masks were better than others. The frog-woman’s mask, for example, was a glistening green masterpiece. Rust’s fox mask, too, and Bess’s owl’s head, looked so real that it was hard to believe they had been made by human hands.
But many of the masks worn by others in the troupe were far more ordinary. They were just false heads of fur or feathers with holes for eyes, mouth and nose.
Bess was gobbling her food, filling her vast soup bowl again and again from a pot simmering on a fire beside her. She seemed tense, as if with excitement.
‘What has brought you to this part of the country, may I ask?’ she said abruptly, at last.
‘My nephews and I left Broome to find work,’ Barda said, telling their planned story. ‘Food is scarce at home.’
‘It is the same everywhere,’ Bess nodded. ‘But, just lately, things have begun growing again! That is why we came to this place, which we have not visited for many years. We have been here five days, for we were delighted to find that—’
She broke off as Rust’s hand tightened on her shoulder.
Lief wondered what she had been going to say. Plainly, it was something that Rust did not think the visitors should know. Something about why the Masked Ones were camped in the forest.
And why are they here? he thought suddenly. There is no space in the forest for staging a performance. And clearly they want people to stay out of the field.
He met the fox-woman’s suspicious eyes.
She, at least, thinks Bess is wrong to trust us, he thought. She thinks we are lying. And she is right, of course. We will have to be very careful.
He concentrated on keeping his face expressionless, wishing heartily that he had a mask himself.
Bess cleared her throat. ‘Tomorrow we will be moving west along the mountains, to a place called Happy Vale,’ she said. ‘See here!’
She pulled a pink leaflet from the folds of her skirt and held it out to Barda.
‘We have not performed in Happy Vale for a long time,’ said Bess, watching intently as Lief, Barda and Jasmine read the notice. ‘It will be a grand night. And it could be just the first of many grand nights for you. If you accept my offer.’
The companions looked up at her in surprise.
Bess leaned forward. ‘You are looking for work,’ she said. ‘Well, I am offering you not only work, but a home as well. I am inviting you to join us—to join the Masked Ones!’
Stunned, Barda glanced at Lief and Jasmine, then turned back to Bess.
‘We are most honoured,’ he said carefully. ‘But the Masked Ones are entertainers—fine ones, too, I hear. We are only humble fishermen.’
‘Ah! But we can train you for greater things,’ cried Bess eagerly. ‘Many here were not born Masked Ones.’
She nodded as Barda looked surprised. ‘It has always been our habit to adopt bareface infants and small children—orphans, with no family to care for them,’ she said. ‘But a year or two ago, I began taking in older children—and adults as well.’
The fox-woman sniffed disapprovingly.
‘It was necessary if the troupe was to survive,’ Bess said, raising her voice slightly. ‘Our old families have dwindled sadly. So—will you join us, Berry? If you do, you will be set for life! The Masked Ones look after their own.’
‘Do not try to persuade them, Bess,’ snapped Rust. ‘Surely we have enough bareface hangers-on already!’
Bess’s huge fists clenched. ‘These would not be hangers-on!’ she growled. ‘Have you forgotten who we lost tonight?’
‘We lost a friend and brother—one of the inner circle,’ Rust said resentfully.
‘We also lost our strong man,’ said Bess. ‘How can we perform at Happy Vale or anywhere else without one of our most popular acts? Otto would have been the first to say it is impossible!’
She pointed at Barda. ‘Look at this fellow! Powerful as an ox! Dressed for the part, he would make an excellent strong man.’
‘And what of his nephews?’ Rust enquired icily, turning her fox head to look at Lief and Jasmine. ‘How will they earn their keep?’
‘Oh, I am sure they can be trained for something,’ Bess said, with false casualness. ‘Lewin, for example, has the look of one who can sing like a bird.’
‘Bess, you say that only because he reminds you of Bede!’ Rust exploded. ‘Think what you are doing!’
‘How dare you question me?’ thundered Bess. ‘Leave us!’
Without a word, the fox-woman backed away and disappeared into the shadows.
‘Truly, I am not sure that I would make a good singer, Bess,’ Lief murmured. ‘My voice is not—’
‘Nonsense, Lewin!’ Jasmine broke in, to his great surprise. ‘Your voice is very sweet.’
While Lief was still gaping at her, she turned to Barda.
‘I think we should accept this generous offer, Uncle,’ she said firmly. ‘After all, the Masked Ones are moving west, as we always intended to do. Why should we not join them—at least for a time? There is safety in numbers.’
Plainly, she was giving Lief and Barda a message. She was telling them that joining the Masked Ones would be the best possible disguise.
‘Oh,’ Barda said blankly. ‘Well, perhaps… for a time…’
‘Excellent!’ cried Bess, rubbing her hands. ‘Then it is agreed. You can have Otto’s wagon. Tomorrow we will move on—and your training will begin!’
The companions spent that night huddled beneath the tree that shaded Otto’s wagon, with Kree keeping watch above them.
The ground was cold and hard, but they preferred it to sleeping inside. Someone had taken away the mattress, the fur rug and the trunk of clothes. But, even empty, the wagon seemed haunted by memories of the pig-man and his horrible death.
Gradually, the lights around the camp were put out as people went to their rest. But just when all seemed quiet the great central fire began to burn more brightly, and low voices began chanting and singing.
The sounds went on and on. The fire blazed higher.
Several times Lief sat up. Several times he peered at the figures chanting around the roaring fire, and wondered what they were doing.
In the darkest hours of the night, the voices rose a little. For the first time, Lief heard some words clearly.
Farwall, Otto. Farwall, ald fraud. Yar mask as ashas. Yar bady as dast. Naw ya dwall an ta grayt layt. Wan day way wall jayan ya. Wayt far as. Wayt far as…
Then, at last, he understood.
Farewell, Otto. Farewell, old friend… Now you dwell in the great light. One day we will join you. Wait for us. Wait for us…
Otto’s body, and all his possessions, were being burned. The inner circle of the Masked Ones was farewelling one of its own.
Lief lay down again and pulled his blanket close around his chin. He closed his eyes. He willed himself to sleep. But when at last sleep came, leaping flames and a shapeless black figure with long white fingers haunted his dreams.
5 – Happy Vale