“We look so old,” she murmured.
“That’s the idea,” Theo replied, pulling the cloak around his chest. “As long as we walk right, no one will know.” He turned to her. “Are you ready?”
“I think so.” Sophia took a deep breath and drew herself to her now considerable height. “I’ll have to put these back on when we reach the palace,” she said, pulling off the high shoes. “Good-bye, tree house,” she said quietly, looking around the condemned room before descending the stairs. “Thank you for keeping us safe—at least for a little while.”
Half an hour later, they were approaching the palace gates. The air was filled with fluting music and the chatter of the arriving guests, and Sophia could see at once that Theo had chosen their costumes welclass="underline" no one gave them a second glance. Nonetheless, Sophia felt her heart flutter at the sight of the guards. Squeezing her arm, Theo pointed to a large party of extravagantly dressed guests that was making its way noisily toward the entrance, and the two of them insinuated themselves into the group.
As they slowly moved forward, one of the women turned and looked them up and down. Sophia caught her breath, preparing herself for the shout of alarm. Then the woman leaned forward and asked, “A Lorca design?”
“Yes,” Sophia said, hiding her surprise as best she could.
“I compliment you on being able to secure her services. When I tried to order my gown, she said she could no longer take orders!” The woman gestured down at her pea-green tunic, which looked a bit wrinkled.
Sophia struggled to think of a fitting reply. “One does have to order very early,” she said, in what she hoped was a lofty tone.
The woman nodded sagely. “Quite right. I will do so next time.” She turned to follow her companions, but by that time the leader of the party had spoken to the guard and all of them—including Sophia and Theo—had been waved through the gates.
Sophia let out a sharp sigh of relief. “That was easy, wasn’t it?” Theo said smugly.
As they entered the garden, she caught her breath. It had been transformed by a thousand lanterns that hung from every tree and above every fountain. The water in the lily pond shimmered, reflecting the lights. Clusters of people drifted in and out among the hedges and walkways, some of them carrying long poles with bright lanterns shaped like moons. For a moment, she forgot any danger and lost herself in the floating music and winking lights of the eclipse festival.
Theo moved single-mindedly toward the lily pond, leading Sophia by the elbow as she turned to look at the frail paper boats gliding across it. “I’ll show you the way I got in last time,” he murmured.
Sophia did not reply, consumed as she was by the sights and sounds. A little boy dressed like a bird, complete with feathery wings, fluttered past them laughing; a taller girl pursuing him held her skirt in bunched fistfuls so that she could run. Sophia watched, a smile stealing over her face, and suddenly her smile froze. She seized Theo’s arm.
“What?” he asked in surprise. “The guards won’t recognize us . . .” The words died in his throat as he saw the man standing only a few feet away, contentedly eating a tall piece of cake.
It was Montaigne. He had not noticed the young man with a feathered mask and the veiled lady. He took another bite of cake and then drifted away from the side of the lily pool and wandered into the gardens.
“I can’t believe he followed you all the way here,” Theo whispered.
“He must have followed the Swan, which means he knows about Calixta and Burr. If we stay with him we might find out where they are,” Sophia said under her breath, pulling Theo onward.
They kept their eyes on Montaigne’s retreating back and stayed well behind, following him as he made his slow way through the garden, stopping occasionally to take a bite of cake or dip his fingers in one of the fountains. He skirted a broad wooden dance floor, empty save for sawdust, that stood awaiting the dancers who later would whirl upon it under the darkened moon. Then he rounded a corner onto a lawn bordered by lemon trees, where a trio of musicians was performing. He sauntered up to the audience from behind and sat in one of the empty chairs.
Sophia and Theo watched through the screen of the lemon trees. Princess Justa sat with a dozen attendants, but the rest of the audience were strangers. Veressa and Martin were nowhere to be seen. Sophia moved forward to get a clear view of Montaigne—and then she stopped in her tracks. Beside him was a small woman, her long, fair hair pulled back, a delicate veil covering her face. Seated next to her, half-obscured and slumped over, as if sunk in melancholy, was Shadrack.
In that moment, Sophia understood what a precious gift it was to have no sense of time. What for ordinary people would have seemed like a fragment of a second seemed like hours to her. During that time out of time, she had all the time in the world to think. Montaigne had followed her, and he had brought Shadrack with him. Perhaps he had traveled with Shadrack from the start: all the way along the Western Line, to New Orleans, to Veracruz, to Nochtland. Sophia imagined that journey and all the routes it might have taken, all the difficulties Shadrack might have faced. It didn’t matter how he had gotten to Nochtland; he was here now, and so was she. And with still more time to deliberate, Sophia thought of how she might draw him away.
She found herself back in the Nochtland gardens, her plan complete. “He’s here!” she whispered urgently. “That’s Shadrack.”
“I see him,” Theo said slowly. “What do you want to do?”
“We need a distraction. The dance floor. And the lanterns.”
Theo understood at once. “You get to Shadrack. I’ll find you.” He broke cover and moved toward the empty dance floor. Sophia stayed behind, her eyes fastened on her uncle.
The fluting music rose up over the audience and through the trees, and the laughter of the revelers tinkled like glass chimes. Sophia marked time by when one song ended and another began. As the trio commenced a third piece, another sound suddenly cut through the air: a shout of alarm. Another echoed it, and a moment later frightened shrieks pierced the music and brought it to a halt. “Fire!” someone cried. “The dance floor is on fire!” The audience rose in confusion. The flames spread, and she could see the worried faces of the audience. A loud crack burst out behind her as the floorboards were engulfed, and suddenly everyone panicked. Princess Justa’s attendants seized her arms and hurried her away. The other guests rushed across the lawn, toppling chairs and bumping into one another.
“Water, get water!” Sophia heard the sharp sizzle of water against burning wood. She kept her eyes trained on Shadrack. He had remained behind while the others around him fled in panic. Even the shouts and the light and the heat of the fire did not seem to affect him.
As soon as the clearing was abandoned, Sophia stepped forward. Shadrack was sitting motionlessly at the end of the aisle. She could not see his face, but he seemed to be simply staring at the trees in front of him. What’s wrong with him? Why doesn’t he move? Sophia was suddenly terrified. What had happened to Shadrack that he did not even flee at the sight of fire?
Her heart was pounding as she hurried toward him. She placed her hand gently on his slumped shoulder. “Shadrack?” she said, her voice trembling. Hearing his name, Shadrack looked up at her abruptly, and his eyes stared blankly, uncomprehendingly, at her veiled face. Sophia lifted her veil with shaking fingers. “It’s me, Shadrack. Sophia.” She bent down and threw her arms around him.