House of Salt and Sorrows(38)

“Maybe we should go in together,” I said, eyeing the mouth of the passage as if it were a beast about to devour us all. “Holding hands. Just in case.”

The Graces nodded, their eyes as wide as silver florettes under masks of lace and paste jewels.

“You ought to go first, Fisher,” Camille reasoned. “Make sure we’re heading to the right place.”

Fisher held out his hand to Rosalie, and she grabbed Ligeia’s. Lenore was next, then Honor and Camille. She grabbed on to Mercy, who took Verity’s hand. My little sister looked up at me before squeezing my hand.

“We’re ready!” Verity announced.

He ducked into the tunnel and immediately disappeared. I watched as, one by one, my sisters entered the passage and vanished before me. As Verity faded away with a squeal of delight, I froze. After a beat, she tugged on my hand, pulling me into the unseen.

It was as if a thousand sets of fingertips danced over my skin, tickling and poking, prodding and fluttering. I closed my eyes against their invasion, pressing forward. When they stopped, I was in a forest of dazzling trees. They stood like silent sentinels, towering above us, with branches high overhead. The bark, a smattering of gold and silver, pulled away into papery spirals, like birch; beneath the top layers were hearts of rose gold. Metallic leaves rustled, sounding like bells jingling on the breeze.

“Did it not work?” I asked. It was a beautiful forest, to be sure, but not the ball we’d anticipated.

Fisher turned around, searching the moonlit forest. Plush carpets of emerald moss gave way to a pebbled path. “Let’s follow that.”

The Graces dashed down the trail, skipping, spinning, and laughing with exhilaration under the star-bright sky. Their joy was contagious, and we chased after them, silken skirts rippling behind us. I had no idea how far away from home we were or how we’d ever hope to return, but in this heady moment, I didn’t care. The euphoria was tangible: I could taste it in the air, the sweetness coating my mouth and going straight to my head like champagne. Lenore and I linked arms and twirled in circles, our laughter growing louder and wilder the dizzier we became.

The trees eventually tapered away as we came to the banks of a moonlit lake. The waves that lapped against the shore were perfumed with a rich green algae, not the sharp salt of our sea. On the other side of the lake, high on a hill, was a castle so perfectly designed, it looked like something out of a fairy tale. Scarlet pennants slithered in the breeze as brilliant fireworks burst above them. Across the water, we heard murmurs of appreciation and the sounds of an orchestra tuning.

“That’s it!” Rosalie exclaimed. “That’s where we were this afternoon.”

“Are we supposed to walk all the way there?” Camille asked, squinting at the distance. “The ball will be over by the time we arrive.”

Lenore let out a gasp. “No, look!”

She pointed to a sparkling glint on the lake approaching us. It was a little train of boats, each big enough to hold just one passenger. They looked like enormous swans, ferried by enchantment, with no crew. The triplets immediately boarded, their laughter verging on shrieks as the great birds tipped precariously from side to side.

Fisher helped Camille and the Graces into the next four boats.

“Hurry up, you two!” Ligeia called out. They were already halfway across the lake.

Fisher spun around, laughing at the sheer improbability of the evening. “I can’t believe we’re really doing this! Shall we?” he asked, holding out his hand.

His thumb traced around my palm, sending squirming tendrils of unease into my belly. Even though his smile was full of merriment, his eyes felt too fervent. On such a glorious night, I wanted dancing and stars and champagne, not whatever unspoken promise lay in Fisher’s gaze.

“I’ll race you!” I challenged, nestling between the giant wings.

The swan seemed to hear me and bumped away from the dock at a rapid clip. There were no oars, no rudder, nothing I could use to guide the boat, but it seemed to know exactly what its course was. On Salten, this would have been terrifying, but near a grove of silvery trees, wearing a sparkling mask, I found it exhilarating.

We reached the other side of the lake in no time at all. The castle towered above us on the crest of the bluff. A set of stairs directly across from the docks zigzagged across the hill and up to the palace gates. We paused to consider the climb ahead of us before scurrying up the marble treads.

“Two hundred and nineteen, two hundred and twenty…,” Mercy said, counting each step to pass the time. At three hundred, the triplets begged her to stop. “Three hundred and forty-eight, three hundred and forty-ni-i-ine…” She dragged the word out, then hopped up the last step with a puff. “Three hundred and fifty!”

Congregating on the plaza outside the main gates, we paused, flicking our fans back and forth to create a breeze as we caught our breath. The palace, built of obsidian blocks, rose seven stories high, with jagged turrets on every corner. Tall braziers illuminated the crimson carpet leading into the main entrance. The facade reflected the dancing flames, winking as though it too was on fire.

Mountains rose up around the lake, snowcapped and covered with dense forests. A mist settled over the water, giving the scene a mysterious softness.

“Where on earth are we?” Fisher asked, breathing in the cool night air as he stood by the stone parapet. He was the only one who didn’t seem affected by the climb. I wondered how many times a day he had to race up Old Maude’s winding staircase.