Midnight in Everwood(90)

She walked slowly across the stage. Picked up the snow globe and shook it. The flurries settled round a snowy fir forest with a tiny sleigh wandering through the trees. When she squinted, she discerned it was pulled by moose and carried a sole occupant.

The grandfather clock measured out the final chimes of the midnight hour.

An awareness prickled at Marietta in the silence that came rushing in. Snow globe still in hand, she whirled round.

Drosselmeier stood at the corner of the stage, leaning against a column, observing her. He was clad in the same suit which he had worn on Christmas Eve and in a crack of ice it all came back to her like a blizzard. His hands on her. Entrapping her within the ballroom. Ensuring she fled into a strange, cruel, wonderful world of magic and pain. Sending her into that world to toy with her, bend her mind to his, manipulate her until she shattered like a bauble. Yet she had not.

‘It is still Christmas Eve here,’ he said.

‘And you are the Grand Confectioner,’ she replied, finally voicing the suspicion that had haunted her for some time.

He inclined his head, holding out his arms like a show master. ‘You made for irresistible entertainment.’

Marietta’s world shuddered around her, the walls of her life turned fragile and pliable. She forced her heart to slam its doors shut, to resist asking the most precious question that danced upon the tip of her tongue. Instead she asked, ‘How did you come to possess such power? From whence did it originate and for what purpose did you send me into another world? I can only imagine you desired to punish me. Prove that I might be under your control.’

Drosselmeier’s smile chilled his pale-blue eyes. ‘Magic is without reason. Though I am greatly delighted to hear your acknowledgement of my power. That ought to ensure what is to come will proceed more smoothly.’

Marietta tamped her swelling emotions down. Iced her voice with calmness. ‘You dispatched me into a prison. I might have been killed or spent an eternity rotting away for your own amusement.’

‘And yet you were not.’

‘Whatever you believe is to come, whatever insidious purpose you might be planning to wield your power for, I assure you that I shall hold no part in it.’

Drosselmeier’s lips carved into a thin smile. Something elusive darted over his face. Marietta had glimpsed it before on occasion and wondered at it but this time she placed it. It was magic. It crackled in the air around him, strong and heady and potent. Once, she had not been able to recognise it; yet after a spell in Everwood, she had become well acquainted with all manner of enchantments. She took a step back. She had been na?ve enough to believe that being in a magicless world would have ensured they were on more of an equal level. Yet his magic seemed stronger than ever. ‘What are you?’ she breathed.

‘I am but a man.’

She shook her head as he walked slowly towards her, relishing her reaction, examining her portance for a flutter of fear. ‘No ordinary man could have the abilities that you possess.’

A strange light gleamed in his eyes. ‘Ah, yet I have never claimed to be an ordinary man. I tend to find ordinary things rather dull, do you not agree?’ He reached her then, with her back pressed against the castle set. He stretched out a hand towards her.

She slapped it away. ‘From whence does your power originate?’ She wished she could save even a mere crumb of his magic for the future. A future where she might seek out Legat once more.

Drosselmeier surveyed her with cold amusement. ‘Oh, meine kleine T?nzerin,’ he murmured, ‘attempting to prise her way into my secrets. Do you think me that foolish to share them with you?’

Marietta said nothing.

He leant closer. ‘My power is ranked with the gods of old and the sons of Finn, with the queens that reigned in the olden fables.’

Marietta sighed. She rather missed the directness of the Everwoodians. Here, the mere act of holding a conversation with another seemed fraught with pretension. ‘I find your constant espousing of your own merit and quoting poems to be most tiresome. Yet it is of little consequence now. Your magic might be as deep as a starlit sky and I still should not accept your betrothal.’

The smile slid from his face.

‘Nothing holds more value for me than my own freedom.’ Marietta evaded his arm and walked off the stage.

A ripple of thick fabric sounded behind her. Marietta glanced back, wary at once. Drosselmeier had opened the red velvet curtains on the stage. He stood between them, his form shadowed. ‘You are not a woman that might find satisfaction in dresses, jewels or furs. Not since you have had a taste of magic. The very blood in your veins shall clamour for it. Only I possess the means with which to grant you a life of enchantment.’

Marietta looked away. ‘I have had quite enough of your magic.’ She continued walking down the ballroom until she reached the doors. Her heart beat in irregular rhythms as she grasped the handle, daring to hope they might be unlocked. She needed to seize an opportune moment in which to secure a weapon. Arm herself against Drosselmeier’s advancements, against the magic he would wield against her, attempting to bend her to his will. She needed a blade.

‘What of your darling captain?’ Drosselmeier called after her.

Slowly, Marietta turned. His gaze rubbed against her skin. Spoke of ownership. It discomfited her.

‘Would you prefer your rather touching farewell to be a true parting?’