could topple the lamp hanging in the air above the table. Their wings trembled from the proximity of the fire, but the argument did not stop. Rhianon backed away from the entrance to the tent. She didn’t want them to accidentally glance this way and notice her. It would have worked out very well if a dry branch had not crunched beneath her feet.
The crunch was loud and unexpectedly sharp. The faerie ears couldn’t help but pick it up. In an instant all eyes turned toward her, green and bright and unnaturally burning. They looked straight ahead and saw everything, but they reflected nothing but emptiness. Rhianon shuddered as she faced Gloria’s equally blank and magnetically glowing gaze. She hadn’t had time yet to snatch the trump cards from her partner’s hands, and already she was looking ahead as if she’d seen her rightful prey.
«Get back!» No one rushed toward her yet, but Rhianon had already picked up a dry branch from the ground and thrust it forward for protection, like a sword. Fear made fire rush to her blood. The branch erupted in her hands and took on a blinding flame. Of course, it was not enough. Rhianon knew that it would not cost them anything to break loose, to fly above the ground and surround her. Then a burning branch would do her no good. They would fly around her, like spirits, and someone would be sure to snatch her. She was already imagining Gloria’s long, webbed fingers, and how they would claw at her hair.
«Don’t you dare come near me!»
«Then you come with us,» Gloria beckoned her with a graceful gesture. Both she and her partner had already let the cards out of their hands, but they hadn’t scattered across the floor but remained hanging in the air.
«Go,» she waved her hand again. «We have a wonderful drink of blackberries and bat’s blood, and it helps you see things that aren’t there… You want to see that you have a kingdom, don’t you?»
She didn’t laugh. It wasn’t a joke. Perhaps they were fooling the audience with this very drink and the faint remnants of their own charms. Rhianon looked at the thick, viscous liquid in the unfinished glasses. A flask, strapped like a spider web, was lying beside it as well. She wouldn’t have been surprised if the flask had never run out of wine, but she didn’t want to taste it.
«Be resolute,» Gloria strode toward her, the hem of her colorful, diamond-striped dress never touching the ground. In a moment the fairy would be at her side. Her slimy hands would touch her shoulders, and her sharp-toothed lips would be close at hand.
Involuntarily Rhianon panicked. The burning branch could not keep her away from the evil one for long. Gloria was already very close. Her red lips, red as if lined with paint, were moving, but Rhianon heard no words. A wave of fear came over her. Her emotions were running high and her fire was growing stronger. A surge of energy shot through her, sending a shattering wave. Even Rianon herself did not realize that the flaming cloths of the tent were her doing. For the first time, it was as if the fire had sprung from her rather than ripped out of her, and now a sucking emptiness was gaping inside. She could hear a burnt Gloria screaming nearby. The fairy tried to tear the burnt crust from her face like a mask, but Rhianon was no longer concerned with that. She bent in half, trying to overcome the inner spasm of pain. Her stomach still stung. And the tent before her burned. It took on a lighter light than a luminary. Gloria wailed beside it, the others tried to put out the fire. Rhianon realized it was time to disappear. The pendant around her neck turned into a tiny model of an axe. What could that mean?»
«Any town near Loretta,» she riddled to herself, hoping that she would be there instantly. And so she was. A few minutes later there was not even a memory of the flaming tent. Rhianon was in a dark city. Despite the late hour, there were a lot of people around. People were shouting and chanting something. She began to make her way through the crowd. No one paid much attention to her. People were much more interested in something else, something that was in the square. Rhianon began to make her way there. Out of the corner of her eye she saw dwarves and harpies scampering through the forest of people’s feet, either cutting off purses from gawkers or poking holes in people’s boots and clothes for fun. Obviously, it was a familiar sight. Where there was a crowd, there were the bad guys. When people’s attention was diverted to something, there was room for mischief.
Preparations of some sort were underway in the square. Rhianon recognized the platform to the front door. It seemed there would be an execution. She wondered who would be taken to the scaffold. She still thought of the condemned man who had looked her over in the crowd. Would it be so now? Would she attract the gazes of all the people condemned to death? So far she had not seen the condemned. Only the executioner and some indistinct bluish silhouette resting at ease on the scaffold, as if in his personal chair. It was as if the others did not notice him. Rhianon wondered why rotten vegetables and taunts weren’t flying at the insolent man. She looked closely and exhaled indignantly when she recognized Orpheus. Surely others could not have noticed him. Her personal spirit was incorrigible. He sought amusement in the most unexpected places.
Is he here by accident or to tease her? Rhianon was afraid to bump into him with her eyes, but Orpheus obviously sensed something and looked into the crowd. His pupils gleamed joyfully, like two sparks.
«My dear Madam,» he took off his rather luxurious hat with a feather and bowed to her exquisitely without getting up. He had become a dandy since they had not seen each other. Rhianon couldn’t help noticing it. He should have been more of a buffoon. Of course, the people around him had not noticed his bow.
Rhianon remembered the bird she had let out of its cage. Had she not done harm to herself? She did not even know what kind of creature she was releasing. Nor did she know what kind of companion she had found when she first spoke to Orpheus. Now sitting on the scaffold he looked like a real demon in an expensive camisole. One glimpse of him was enough to realize how dangerous he was. Rhianon had a sudden urge to hide from him.
She tilted her head so that she could not see her face behind the brim of the hats of the people standing nearby, but still the feeling that Orpheus saw her remained. He could see her through the walls, too. Rhianon was already thinking about whether she should disappear from here, when suddenly she heard voices announcing the verdict. The condemned were being led to the platform. The sullen procession moved slowly forward under the watchful eye of the guards. Rhianon was surprised to see any familiar faces. Harold, Brome, Bob, William, Raven… It was like a dream. Despite the bruises and the strange rash on their skin, Rhianon recognized her former friends. To say that she was amazed was to say nothing. And she couldn’t have been shown anything more frightening in the realm of dreams. Of course, there was nothing to be surprised about. They were all outlaws, and sooner or later their path lay to the scaffold. They were aware that they were playing with death. They could get caught at any moment. And Rhianon was well aware of the risks in joining them. Nevertheless, seeing them now in front of the frontal seat hurt her intensely.
She pondered feverishly what she could do to save them. It was nothing. And not even the evil creatures scurrying through the crowd here would be powerless. All those little creatures could do was make a mess, or cut someone’s purse strings, and then scatter the coins across the square to watch the beggars fight over the gold. Such a maneuver might have delayed the execution by minutes, but not stopped it. If only there was a dragon to blow fire over the rooftops. Then everyone would scatter for sure. Rhianon looked wistfully up at the dark sky. Surely not one of Madael’s servants would come here to witness an execution, and certainly not one who would obey her orders. And she desperately needed such a servant to dictate her terms to the executioners. In her mind she focused on the valley of dragons, trying to summon one of them. She remembered one with a bright ruby crest, one that could sweep across the sky like an arrow, terrifying everyone and exhaling a jet of flame. Rhianon imagined him as clearly as if he were here, but the sky remained empty, no one heard her mental call.
