Seven Dreams

Chapter Two-2

When the dance came to an end, Halavere rejected the invitation of the next gentleman to approach her and made her way towards the garden doors.

Two men came towards Serena at the same moment, their intentions writ large upon their amiable faces, and she made a noise of frustration. ‘I should have brought Teyo into the ballroom,’ she hissed at Fabian.

‘What?’ he blinked. ‘Why?’

‘Because then we could have pretended to escape into the garden for a daring tryst, and I would not be stuck with these people.’

‘Would it have been pretend?’ Fabian asked with interest.

‘Naturally.’

‘Probably?’

‘We’re going to have to do it the other way,’ she sighed.

‘Oh, no,’ Fabian muttered. ‘Please don’t do that again—’

His entreaties went unheeded. Just as her first would-be dance partner arrived with proffered hand, Serena began to sway slightly on her feet, her hand lifting to her forehead with an intriguing little fluttering motion. ‘Oh,’ she whispered faintly, ‘I do feel so very…’

She was not, in her weakness, able to utter another syllable before she sank into an elegant swoon. For a second, she thought that Fabian was not going to catch her after all. She shot him a glare from under her eyelids and, with a sigh, he broke her fall with every appearance of solicitude. Gone was Fabian Carterett, replaced by the perpetual boredom and faint, spoiled sneer of Lord Bastavere.

‘Oh, no, is it the vapours again?’ he murmured with becoming concern. ‘My poor, dear sister. What could be causing these repeated fits? I do hope it is not anything fatal.’

Serena was too artfully unconscious to be able to attempt any reply, though she made a mental note to smack him for it later. A little crowd had gathered around her, thrusting several bottles of smelling-salts under her nose at once. The aroma made her cough, her eyes watered, and she was obliged to recover.

The operation proceeded with well-practiced ease from there. In a trice, Fabian had explained to the company with brotherly concern that his sister required a little air; he had elbowed away the solicitous advances of the gentlemen and fended off the (largely feigned) concern of the ladies. He gently shepherded Serena out into the gardens, reassuringly unaccompanied, and there she underwent an instant and miraculous recovery.

‘You are so very good at that,’ she said, beaming.

‘I’ve had a lot of practice,’ he said dryly, offering her his arm. ‘I begin to think ballrooms are hazardous to your health. You cannot enter one without falling into a swoon.’

‘Quite right. I will have to give up the dancing and the flirting, and leave them both to Egg.’ She took his arm and they promenaded serenely through the darkened gardens, their path lit by way of dozens of light-globes floating just overhead.

It did not prove difficult to locate Dame Halavere. She had left a trail of heavy perfume, so powerful as to outdo even the exotic flowers for dominance. Serena followed her nose.

The garden was laid out in an ornamental arrangement, framed by tall hedges which divided it up into sections. Halavere’s trail led through a corridor of red-blooming vines and past a grand marble fountain. Serena thought she could hear giggling coming from behind one of the hedges. Fabian tried to turn towards it, but Serena pulled him back, shaking her head.

‘Not Halavere,’ she muttered, with an expressive roll of her eyes.

Fabian snorted. ‘I like this party.’

‘I can’t tell you how uninterested I am in hearing about that. Come on, this way.’

The soft scrunch of feminine footsteps on gravel sounded from somewhere ahead, and Serena and Fabian came to a halt. Peeping around a hedge, Serena observed Dame Halavere, but dimly visible in the moonlit darkness, lingering in a corner of the hedge.

‘She’s skulking,’ she reported in a faint whisper.

‘It’s always so promising when they skulk,’ Fabian replied with approval. He peered around Serena’s shoulder and added, ‘This is an especially promising skulk. She is certainly waiting for someone.’

‘Undoubtedly,’ Serena murmured. ‘Perhaps we could talk about it later?’

Fabian gave one of his soft snorts, and subsided. They waited in silence, until Serena’s straining ears caught the sounds of another set of approaching footsteps: heavier, probably male. The newcomer came into view moments later, and Serena could not repress a smile of mingled satisfaction and amusement. He was dressed as a groom, though his disguise was mediocre at best. He had none of the air of a man of the stables; he displayed the peculiar combination of swagger and furtiveness that marked out all the most desperate characters, and even the once-broken nose of a born brawler. It could virtually be considered a uniform among the Unspeakables. Why could criminals never display any imagination?

She waited in breathless anticipation, but to her disappointment, neither party spoke. The Desperate Character merely glanced about into the shadows in a disappointingly cursory fashion, and then handed something to Dame Halavere. What it was Serena could not, in the darkness, determine, but it seemed to satisfy the lady; she nodded, tucked the thing into a pocket of her gown without looking at it, and immediately withdrew. Serena feared for an instant that she would pass by them on her way back to the house, but she disappeared into the darkness on the other side of the hedge. The Desperate Character returned the way he had come, leaving Serena and Fabian alone.

Fabian stuck his hands into his pockets and stood for a moment in thought. ‘Worth pursuing?’ he eventually enquired.

Serena shrugged. ‘Could’ve been anything.’

‘A grocery list,’ Fabian agreed.

‘A recipe for hair pomade.’

‘The name of his tailor.’

‘A love note.’

‘Mm,’ Fabian said appreciatively. ‘Scandalous.’

‘We had better find out,’ Serena decided. ‘All that skulking has to indicate something juicy.’

‘Has to.’

‘But how to retrieve it? The pockets of a lady’s ball gown are closely guarded.’

‘Egg could do it,’ Fabian suggested. ‘Or Jispie.’

‘True, but where are they? I don’t want Halavere to have time to use or destroy whatever it is, before we can get to it.’

A hint of wariness crept into Fabian’s tone. ‘What exactly do you have in mind?’

Serena directed at him her most winning smile. ‘Dearest Fabe, seeing as you are quite the handsomest of brothers—’

‘Oh, no,’ he said firmly, cutting her off. ‘I am not seducing a woman again just so you can go rummaging in her pockets.’

‘Actually, I thought that you would do the pocket-rummaging.’ She paused. ‘That came out a little wrong.’

Fabian gave one of his snorts of laughter, but he still shook his head. ‘Absolutely not. Besides, if we don’t have time to find Egg, what makes you think we have time for that?’

‘All you have to do is dance with her. Come on!’

Fabian began to say something else, but Serena had already darted away in the direction Halavere had taken. She had learned the trick long ago of moving quickly and quietly on any terrain, gravel included, and she soon caught up with Halavere. Their hostess appeared to be making her way back to the ballroom, but slowly, and by a circuitous route. Serena and Fabian followed a cautious distance behind, keeping a close eye on her, but she met no one else nor did her hand ever stray to the pocket in which she’d secreted whatever her associate had given her. At last she disappeared back into the swelling music and welcoming lights of the ballroom.

‘Go!’ Serena hissed.

‘Egg’s probably already on it,’ he protested.

‘Egg could be doing a million other things right now.’

Fabian thought about that for a second. ‘I don’t really think that’s possible, no.’

Serena gave him an inelegant shove in the direction of the ballroom. He gave a deep, long-suffering sigh, but he went. Serena trailed inside soon afterwards and observed, to her satisfaction, that Fabian had succeeded in securing Dame Halavere for a dance, and was whirling her around the floor. He was clearly exerting all his considerable powers to please, and not without success, for the lady’s attention was fully focused upon him.

Serena drifted back to the punch bowls. She could rely on Fabe to get the goods; though he was not nearly so talented a pickpocket as Egg, he was certainly equal to this challenge. She was soon solicited for a dance herself, an invitation which she accepted, and a pleasant half-hour or so passed happily away. Fabian danced all the while with Halavere.

They met by the buffet table soon afterwards, and under cover of handing her a laden plate with all possible brotherly solicitude, Fabian hissed, ‘Piece of paper. Blank.’

Serena almost dropped the plate. ‘What?’

‘Nothing on it,’ he clarified.

Serena suppressed a sigh. ‘I know what blank means. How can it be blank? Surely it is some kind of invisible message.’

‘It’s blank,’ Fabian repeated.

Serena drooped over her plate of sweets, disappointed and puzzled. Had Halavere’s contact deceived her somehow? Or did she know, or suspect, that she was under observation and had acted out the whole charade in order to deceive? Perhaps the real meeting was taking place somewhere else, or perhaps it was already over. What if she knew who was here to watch her? Serena thought not, but couldn’t be sure.

‘I think we’d better behave ourselves for the next while,’ Serena said sadly.

Fabian sighed. ‘How boring.’

On the other side of the garden, Teyo and Egg were particularly well-concealed. Teyo’s draykon heritage granted him more than passable skill at sorcery, arts which had long been familiar and widely practiced across the Seven — even if their source had only recently come to be understood. He had cloaked them both in a patch of shadow, making them indistinguishable from the darkness around them. As such, it had been possible for them to creep up very close to Halavere and her contact without being seen.

They watched the exchange in silence, and a touch of disappointment. Halavere didn’t even look at the piece of paper; she merely stuffed it into her pocket and walked off. Teyo had been hoping to see some kind of altercation, which might have revealed more about the purpose of the meeting and the extent of Halavere’s involvement in Unspeakable business. He was obliged to content himself with the knowledge that her evening would grow somewhat complicated as soon as she realised the paper was blank.

‘I’m going to follow him,’ Teyo whispered to Egg, who agreed with a silent nod. They tailed the Unspeakable Gentleman all the way around the edges of the extensive gardens and up to the edge of the wide lawn that surrounded the house. It would be much harder to follow him across all that, and he suspected there would be little point; the man’s purpose had apparently been fulfilled, he had no one further to meet and no other tasks to accomplish, and he was leaving. Teyo thought he could be left to return to whichever rat-hole he was crouching in tonight, and turned back to Egg.

‘Thoughts?’ she said.

‘Think anything else is likely to happen tonight?’

‘Her Dameship is due to throw a fit at some point, but I’m not sure we’ll be able to catch that show.’ This last was spoken with some regret.

Teyo nodded. ‘We’ve got what we came for. Let’s find Rena and Fabe and get out of here.’

Their associates were summoned by the simple means of sending Jisp into the ball room and up the legs of either Serena or Fabian, whichever she encountered first. This errand complete, Teyo and Egg retired to the gates to await the arrival of the stupendous Chartre/Bastavere carriage, which soon drew up. They piled inside, and Teyo sank gratefully down onto the seat opposite Serena.

‘I had no idea the life of a footman was so exhausting,’ he muttered, sagging. ‘Two hundred cloaks later, and my arms hurt like—’

‘Whiner,’ muttered Egg.

‘Only tell me you have something fabulous to report, and it will all be worth it,’ Serena said. ‘Fabe and I failed. We saw Halavere meet someone, but he apparently gave her a blank piece of paper. Maybe a decoy?’

Egg rolled her eyes and groaned. ‘We’ve been working together how long? Four years, isn’t it?’

Serena turned a hopeful gaze upon Egg. ‘You found something?’

Egg gave a snort. ‘What do you think I was doing while you were tearing up the ballroom? Knitting?’

Teyo gave her a reproachful glance, and she patted his knee in brief apology. ‘Sorry, Teyo. I don’t mean to imply that knitting isn’t an exceptionally worthy pastime.’

Teyo nodded cool acceptance of this concession.

‘You switched the paper!’ Serena guessed.

‘Of course I switched the paper,’ Egg uttered with infinite weariness. She took the real paper out of her pocket and thrust it at Fabian, who was sitting opposite. Serena immediately craned her neck to look at it too.