Midnight in Everwood(66)

As her acerbic attack waned, Marietta did not glance away from Dellara to see whether Pirlipata’s face had lost its friendly glow towards her. Neither did she apologise for the strangeness that now hung between her and Dellara, no matter how her stomach twisted and her mind sank, weighted with melancholic regret.

Dellara slowly revealed her teeth in a considering smile. ‘Well, well, well, it seems I have underestimated you after all. Who knew the blushing dancer was hiding such a bitterly cold bite.’

‘We shall devise a plan between us,’ Pirlipata said, shattering the snow globe of a moment and returning them to the matter at hand. ‘We three women shall never leave one of us behind, is that understood? In Crackatuck, some believe that our lifepaths are mapped through the veins of rocks. In mountain ranges and rocky hills, you can oft find where your life cosies against another’s, your lifepaths entwined forevermore. Such are we. We three escape together, come what may.’

‘I agree,’ Marietta said.

‘Agreed,’ Dellara added.

‘Then we shall be free before the winter has thawed.’ Pirlipata lay back on a cushion, turning her gaze to the invisible star-studded skies. ‘What small dreams do you both hold dearest, the ones you envisage doing first? I have been longing to take a solo trip to the Shragran Mountains, in the far west of Crackatuck.’

Marietta reclined on her own cushion. ‘What do the mountains hold for you?’

‘An abundance of trails to climb, sapphire lakes and the most glorious sunsets you could ever imagine, that set the sky aflame in a decadence of colour.’

‘It sounds like a wondrous destination,’ Marietta said. ‘I should give anything to return to a life where I might dance upon the most revered stages of Europe. I hope to audition for a ballet company again next year so that wish might come true.’ Returning to Nottingham felt inconceivable. How could she ever explain where she had spent the past few months? And Drosselmeier would be awaiting her return. No, better not to venture into that dark pit of thoughts.

‘I should steal away to the Sugar Alley one morning at an unreasonable hour,’ Dellara was saying, her voice dreamier than usual.

‘What kind of establishment would you patronise?’ Marietta asked, sinking back into her cushion and curling her legs up, the carpet thicker than cloud beneath her.

‘All kinds. I used to reside in an apartment in the perfect location; nestled between firs with a view of the great frozen lake from my windows and a short stroll from both the Silk Quarter and Sugar Alley. I dream of the days I’d shut myself inside and spend an entire afternoon cooking, baking and tasting a curated feast, the entire apartment perfumed with the most divine scents. Throw my doors open in the evening to serve a ten-course meal to my friends in my most splendid gown.’

‘I had no notion you were such an accomplished cook,’ Marietta said.

‘There’s nothing like a ten-course meal,’ Dellara said, still dreamy. ‘Sometimes I would make one purely for myself and whatever lover I held at the time. Serve the courses at appointed hours throughout the night.’ She grinned at Marietta. ‘Life’s too short to deprive yourself of a little extravagance.’ Her grin morphed into one of wicked delight. ‘Though not for me, of course; I’m immortal,’ she added.

Marietta was too struck by the casual flippancy with which Dellara had announced her immortality to respond. Before she could formulate any questions, Dellara had lain back and closed her eyes, bidding them both goodnight.

Marietta supposed they’d formulate a plan the following day. Or whenever they happened to rouse themselves; the ball had slunk through the night and blazed into the next day, until she’d lost count of the hours. The constant darkness her head outside the frozen sugar walls added to the disorientation muddying her head. That and the memory of dancing in the captain’s arms, the moment when she’d considered the possibility of him lowering his lips to hers and the electricity that had shot through her veins upon realising that she had wanted that. And that she must never let him, for both their sakes. She also dwelled on the bewildering skirmish with Dellara. On the vulnerability that had shot through her prickly exterior, leading Marietta to despise herself for exposing it. And, as they were wont to do at night, fears crept into her head, whispering of a man with ice for eyes and silvered hair. A hunter, his sights set on her.

‘You are in deep need of sleep,’ Pirlipata said, noticing the tiredness seeping through Marietta. She handed her a soft, thick blanket. ‘Curl up under that and let your mind ease up for a spell. My mother always used to tell me that there’s no use thinking on a tired head, the worries of the world can wait another day.’

Marietta took the blanket. ‘Thank you.’ A soft scent that hinted of fresh snowfall unfolded with it. She nestled under it.

‘It is laced with an enchantment that will soothe you to sleep,’ Pirlipata said. ‘A deep, dreamless sleep for it is not the body alone which requires rest.’

Marietta’s response lagged, the enchantment creeping into her mind, a light-fingered thief stealing her consciousness. ‘I bitterly regret how I spoke to Dellara, lest she think I have spent this time judging her. I do not; I am not in the position to judge anyone. I have lived my entire life surrounded by riches; who am I to criticise anyone?’ she whispered, closing her eyes. ‘I have never had friends, sisters, like you both, and I am so very glad of it, but every time I feel close to Dellara, she holds me at arm’s length and I cannot understand it. I wished to make her feel the same way. And now she must dislike me more than ever.’