Page 93 of Charmless
Even if I succeeded in helping Mal escape, what then? How could I return home, expecting that my life would ever return to its normal course? I could not ignore all that I had learned today, that the legend of the missing heir was true and what a monster Prince Florian would be if he ascended to the throne. I seemed to have little choice now. I would have to join Mal in his quest to find Arcady’s true prince, even if it cost me the man that I loved.
Horatio had already made it clear that he was adamantly opposed to any rebellion. If I threw my lot in with Mal and his League, I would be closing the door upon any sort of happy ending for me and Horatio forever.
When I finally touched my pen to the paper, I was only able to scratch out a few words.
Horatio,
I love you. Forgive me. Yours, Ella.
After staining the letter with a few of my tears, I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and sealed the note. I set both letters atop my fireplace mantel where they would be sure to be found in the morning. Then I turned my attention to the parcel of clothing Delphine had given me.
I eyed it warily, hardly knowing what to expect. An enchanted corset? A magical pair of drawers? One never quite knew what to expect from Delphine and she had offered me no explanation other than insisting I wear these garments tonight.
Cutting the string, I peeled away the brown paper wrapping. I was surprised to discover not any sort of feminine apparel, but instead a pair of masculine breeches and a black shirt. I now understood why Delphine had been so coy about telling me what was in the package.
I suspected that she had stolen these clothes from Mal, probably off his wash line. The shirt with its flowing sleeves and open neckline with leather lacings looked like something Mal would wear. But why would Delphine have taken them? Perhaps to lay some sort of curse on Mal? The witch had expressed a penchant for taking revenge upon those she felt had wronged her. Yet for all her protestations of hating Mal and being done with him, Delphine was as willing to risk her life to save him as I was.
More likely she had snatched the clothes to have something of his to cherish. The garments still carried a lingering odor of that bayberry soap Mal liked to use. As I breathed in the scent, it conjured up an image of my friend, his ready laugh and teasing grin. My heart ached. What if when I arrived at the prison, I discovered he was already dead? What if I was never able to mend our quarrel, to take back those last terrible words I had spoken to him?
“Stop it, Ella,” I muttered. I had to truly believe I would succeed in saving Mal. Otherwise, my mission was doomed before I had even begun.
I quickly stripped out of my own apparel and pulled my hair back from my face as severely as I could, pinning it into a chignon. Mal was not a large man, but his clothing was still too big for me. I had to roll up the legs of the breeches, cinchingthe garment about my waist with a belt I fashioned out of a blue sash. The shirt hung on me like those castoff tops farmers used to adorn scarecrows. I pulled the neck lacings as tight as I could and stuffed the tails of the shirt beneath my belt. At least that helped to fill out the breeches.
I had often envied Mal for his masculine garments. Despite how ill-fitting his clothes were on me, I liked the new freedom of movement. I swaggered about a bit, fancying myself as a dark and menacing corsair. All I needed to complete the illusion was a pair of knee-high boots, but alas, I knew what I needed to wear, and I was not looking forward to it.
I fetched the glass slippers from their hiding place in my wardrobe. As I eased my feet into the magical shoes, they were as stiff and uncomfortable as I remembered, the heels far higher than I liked.
I minced over to study my reflection in the mirror. Any notions I had about myself appearing as a dangerous brigand were swiftly dispelled. I looked utterly ridiculous like a young lad who couldn’t decide what he wanted to be when he grew up, a river pirate or a foppish dancing master.
But if the shoes worked the way Delphine had promised, it wouldn’t matter how I looked. No one would be able to see me. I furrowed my brow, concentrating hard to remember the exact sequence of directions to activate the shoes’ magic.
Click your toes together three times.
I followed the instructions, but I could still see myself reflected in the mirror. But according to Delphine, this was to be expected. I should now be invisible to everyone else. The witch had not lied to me about the Fear Blade, so I needed to trust her about the magical properties of the shoes.
I still felt uneasy as I left my room and hobbled downstairs. The heels on my shoes made me awkward and I feared taking a tumble, arousing the entire household. Even if the shoes hadmade me invisible, they did not mute any noise I made. The heels clicking against the floor of the lower hall sounded far too loud no matter how quietly I tried to move. It was almost impossible to tiptoe when wearing glass slippers, but somehow, I managed to slip out of the house without waking anyone.
Most proper young ladies would not have dared venture out of their homes at such an hour when all decent folk were fast asleep. But I had never been afraid of the night. Most of my trysts with Prince Ryland had taken place at midnight. When Mal and I were children, we had sneaked out of our beds and met up to go hunting for the Dread Gobbledygook, a horrible, fanged monster that was purely the creation of our own fervid imaginations.
Any perils I encountered tonight were not going to be the stuff of fantasy. That realization heightened my senses, making me overly aware of every sound, the hoot of an owl hidden in the branches of our oak tree, the rustle of a mole darting through my overgrown rose bed, even the quick rise and fall of my own breath.
The moon was bright and full, surrounded by a coterie of stars. I could not decide if that was a good or bad thing. The moonlight illuminated the lane that ran past my house, making travel easier but it would also make it more difficult to conceal myself if I met any Scutcheons on night patrol. I could only hope that the shoes were working their magic.
I cringed at the loud creak of my garden gate as I opened it and let myself out into the lane. I closed it as quietly as I could before setting off down the road. But I had not taken many steps when I heard the distant pounding of a horse’s hooves. I halted, listening intently as I sought to determine the direction the sound was coming from. When I realized it was behind me, I whipped about to see a horse and rider galloping down the lane, coming from the direction of the Heights and the royalpalace. Someone whose broad shoulders and upright bearing, I recognized even from this distance.
“Horatio.” His name escaped me in a choked whisper. I froze for a few seconds before coming to my senses enough to stumble to the side of the road. There was no place to conceal myself. I stifled a gasp of dismay when he reined Loyal to an abrupt halt, mere feet from where I stood.
My heart banged in my chest and for one pulse-stopping moment, Horatio seemed to stare straight at me. My mind raced and I almost started to stammer out some lame excuse for my presence. But Horatio’s gaze shifted in the direction of my house. I could read his expression clearly by the light of the moon, a combination of weariness and hopeless longing.
Then he dug in his knees, urging Loyal onward. As he rode past me, I had to press my hand to my mouth to keep from calling after him. I forced myself to remain silent even knowing this might be the last time I ever saw him. My heart ached as he vanished from view, but at least now I knew one thing.
The magic shoes worked. I had become invisible, even to the man I loved.
Nineteen
Iam an excellent walker, but it took me longer than usual to traverse the few miles that separated my home from Misty Bottoms. I was still growing accustomed to the glass shoes. I continued to tread carefully lest I stumble and twist my ankle. I also did not want to blunder into any of the rough denizens who might be lurking in the narrow lanes of this lawless part of town. But perhaps the full moon discouraged any sort of skullduggery. The only one roaming about tonight with criminal intentions appeared to be me. Except for one other.
I found Delphine waiting for me in Mal’s back yard. The witch was draped in a long dark cloak with the hood flung back. She carried a lantern that illuminated her annoyed expression. As she paced along the borders of the herb garden with mounting impatience, I came up behind her.
