Before the Dawn Page 7

She opened her eyes and she found herself staring down at her reflection in a small pool. She was seated on the grass in a garden where the flowers bloomed in pale, phosphorescent colors, and the trees rustling in the wind sounded like they were sighing secrets. The stone castle loomed over her with its many lighted windows and she could hear the sounds of stringed instruments being tuned before the unseen orchestra launched into a gay gypsy melody. The bright moon was concealed behind her head, so she looked like she had a silver halo while the stars were arranged in the pattern of a diadem along its curved edges. But there was something wrong with her face, and she frowned as she tried to figure out exactly what was off about it. As she studied the features looking back at her from the dark waters, another face appeared beside hers.

  "You came back," he said, and he looked very pleased.

  She turned away from her reflection and met his gaze. "I promised."

  He shrugged. "You broke your promise before," he said gently, without any reproach.

  Still, she felt guilty, though she wasn't sure why she should. But there was something in his tone that let her know he wasn't lying. She had broken a promise to him before, and it had wounded him deeply. "I'm sorry," was all she could say.

  He just looked at her for a moment as if he was judging the sincerity of her apology. He did not move at all and only the light breeze playing with his silky hair betrayed the fact that he was made of flesh. If it weren't for that one detail, he might have been a statue in his perfect stillness. Then he stirred, his movements as graceful and liquid as water, and he held out his hand. "Come dance with me," he invited.

  As soon as she placed her hand on top of his, he swept her along and they were suddenly in the dark ballroom she remembered from her dreams. He led her round and round the dance floor until she thought she saw stars circling them and, all the while, she lay completely pliant in his arms. Through her half-closed eyes, she thought she caught glimpses of Meran dancing with the one called Raven. Cassie and Sam had their partners, too, and her friends all looked as dazed as she felt. She didn't see Gracelyn dancing though, and she vaguely wondered where the other girl might be. Gracelyn would not have missed this, not when the rest of them were here. Then she remembered that she hadn't spoken to her friend, so she hadn't gotten the chance to tell her about any of this and maybe the others hadn't told her anything, too. So Gracelyn could be at home right now, sleeping, while they were all dancing in this beautiful place.

  "No. She's here," the Prince assured her though she had not spoken her thoughts and her worries out loud, and he pointed to a dim corner of the ballroom where she saw Gracelyn lying down on a pile of cushions while she kissed a handsome older man with a passion Aline had never imagined her friend was capable of.

  Her body stirred as she watched them and he pulled her even closer against him. However, she fought against the urge to just melt in his arms again, and she frowned at him instead. "How old is that guy she's with?" she asked. "Gracelyn's underage, you know." She was suddenly very worried for her friend. Gracelyn usually never let a guy get that grabby with her. Maybe he had given her something–

  "Lord Lir has not held her in his arms for a long time," the Prince told her. "Let them savor the moments they have." He smiled and she found herself nodding in agreement. Yes, let Gracelyn enjoy herself. They were at the ball surrounded by people. Nothing bad could really happen without anyone noticing. As she let her worry about Gracelyn slip out of her mind, he spun her faster around the room.

  During the many revolutions of the dance, Aline caught flashes of what was happening to the other people around her in frozen moments. She saw several kids she knew from school dancing with strangers, their eyes dreamy as they looked upon the beautiful faces of their partners. The man Cassie was dancing with was kissing her reverently on the shoulder while Sam’s partner was whispering something in her ear that was making her giggle. Meran and Raven had their faces close together, close enough to be kissing, but they seemed to be arguing instead, judging by the intense look in Meran’s dark gaze. To her surprise, she also saw some familiar people from town in the ballroom: the new English Literature teacher was curtsying to a tall, aristocratic-looking man; the pimply kid who worked at the gas station was offering a black rose to a lady in a lace mask; the priest from the local church was covered with a cloud of smoke as he played a metal violin; her old next-door neighbor was dressed in a clown costume while he tried to teach his numerous cats how to do a pirouette; and several others were all caught up in their own little worlds as they enjoyed the various amusements the ballroom offered to them.

  Then, one face captured her attention above all others in the crowd. Trevor was standing near the great doors that led to the room. Unlike the other dancers and guests, he wasn’t wearing fancy clothes. Instead, his appearance was the same sloppy one she had seen when he came to visit her in her house earlier. There was a disbelieving yet fascinated expression on his face as he stared at the scene before him, and Aline noticed that his hands were tightly curled into fists. The right one was bleeding, the blood slowly dripping to the black floor where it seemed to disappear as if absorbed by the stone. His eyes searched the ballroom sharply until he caught sight of her. "Aline." She saw his mouth shape the sound of her name, and he started to make his way to her side. But dancers kept getting in his way and, soon, he had to forcefully push them out of his path so he could take one step after another in her direction.

  She suddenly felt herself being pulled through a small door that led to a long corridor. Their footsteps clinked like pebbles against glass as she and the Prince ran down its length, the white moonlight decorating the floor with odd patterns of illumination as it shone through the ornate designs of the windows. She glanced back once or twice to see if Trevor had followed them, but the corridor was so long she couldn't quite see the end of it. Then they turned a corner and she heard a door shut. A small flame leaped to life in a lamp set in one part of this strange new room, but before she could take in what her surroundings looked like, she was in the Prince's arms once more and his mouth had swiftly claimed hers.

  He kissed her so slowly that it felt like sweet torture when each of her senses caught on fire. She had never been kissed like this before. It made her want to be consumed completely by the heat of his mouth and she wanted to consume him in turn. Nothing else mattered except being possessed by this passion between the two of them. His hand then slowly worked on the ribbons and buttons of her dress and she did not resist at all when his touch became bolder against her bare skin. There was a dim corner in her mind that tried to tell her this was not something she should be doing, that this was something she did not truly want, but the velvet feel of his tongue seduced it into silence and acquiescence. So she continued to let him kiss her and touch her, and she followed quite willingly when he began to lead her to the bed.

  He stopped kissing her for a moment so he could stare into her eyes and ask, "Do you love me?"

  "Yes," the answer came easily from her lips, and she did not doubt the truth of it at all. However, that dim corner that had been silenced earlier stirred again. How could it be true that she loved him? She did not even know him. She wasn't the sort of person who went around thinking she was in love with someone just because he had a handsome face. She had never been that kind of girl. So what was she doing letting him kiss her like this and saying that she loved him? Once these thoughts took root in her mind, she found herself distracted by others. This, all of this, did not feel right. It seemed too perfect, too arranged. This was just some crazy dream. Wasn't it? She suddenly became very confused while she tried to remember how she had gotten here, and when he tried to reclaim her lips with another kiss, she pulled away.

  "No." She shook her head. "No. What’s happening here? This can't be real. I was somewhere else–" She stared at him with something like fear. Who was this man before her? What was he doing to her?

  A look of alarm flashed in his eyes. "Please," he begged. "Don't doubt this. Don'
t doubt me. Stay."

  But she began backing away from him. "What are you doing to me?" she demanded, and she sounded scared now. "Why are you doing this to me?" She suddenly noticed for the first time that there were wet tracks on the floor. In the low light, most were only dark smears that dully reflected what illumination there was in the room, but one was in the shape of a small foot, and it was in the exact spot she had stepped on just a moment earlier. Aline then realized to her horror that her feet were bleeding, and the pain almost overwhelmed her for a second. However, she struggled against giving in to the pain and she somehow managed to remain upright.

  "It is nothing," he tried to reassure her, but she heard the lie in his voice. "Just stay and I will answer all your questions. Please." He tried to reach for her and she shied away from him in a panic. He looked stricken. "Rosamund, stay with me," he pleaded.

  She froze. "I'm not Rosamund," she said in a whisper. "And I don't even know who you are."

  He said nothing, all emotion gone from his face now as he regarded her coldly. "Yes," he finally admitted, standing straighter as his handsome features took on a harsher cast. "You are not Rosamund. But her heart sleeps within you, and I will have her back!" He suddenly lunged towards her, hands stretched out to grab her and prevent her from leaving. But she got lucky and evaded him, then Aline kicked out wildly and managed to make him lose his footing. While he was busy getting back to his feet, she threw open the doors and ran for her life.

  The corridor seemed longer than it had been before and her heart was pounding hard in fear as she prayed she'd be able to make it to the ballroom without getting caught. Then she could ask her friends and the other people she knew there to help her get away from the Prince. The fear she felt provided her with the speed she needed to practically fly down the corridor's length.

  "Aline!" She heard someone shout her name, and she almost cried in thankfulness when she saw Trevor making his way towards her from the other end of the corridor. He was here. He could help her. "Where were you?" he wondered. "I couldn't find you and I just kept running and running down this place." She noted that he seemed sharper than everything else in this place, more in focus, more real. His eyes also didn’t have the glazed cast that she was sure hers had possessed earlier.

  She reached him just as she heard the Prince command them to stop. She didn't even bother to glance back. She grabbed Trevor's arm and pulled him after her. "Come on! We have to get away from here!" The fear she felt must have transmitted itself to him because he didn't waste any time by asking her to explain herself. He just ran by her side. They soon spied the small door that led to the ballroom and they burst through it in relief. They were almost safe. Aline began to call for her friends, but no sound came out of her mouth when she saw the scene that awaited her in the ballroom.

  The music had stopped playing and the dancers were still. Those who belonged to the castle, the Prince's subjects, were arrayed in positions where they could easily surround her and Trevor, while keeping her friends within easy reach should they require hostages. Her friends and the other townspeople, meanwhile, were standing completely limp and motionless with blank eyes, like puppets waiting for their strings to be pulled. Then, weaving through the eerily silent throng on light feet, Raven slowly approached them with a twisted little smile on his perfect face.

  "Your Highness," he said to Aline in his smooth voice, "must you leave?"

  "You stay away from me!" she told him as fiercely as she could. Trevor didn't say a word, but he stepped in front of her protectively.

  Raven looked amused by this display. "Ah, yes. The soldier is here, too, of course. But I doubt you would receive any help from a meddlesome witch this time."

  Aline had no idea what he was talking about and she didn't really care to figure it out at the moment. "Just let us go," she demanded. "And release everyone I know."

  He shook his head. "I am afraid I cannot do that. The enchantment has been invoked. It has to take its course."

  "What are you talking about?" Trevor asked.

  Raven's smile grew smug. "You puzzled it out before. Let's see if you can do it again."

  "Rosamund." The Prince stepped out of Raven's shadow. The coldness she had seen in his face earlier was gone and he now looked conciliatory. "Please let us discuss this. We do not have to fight."

  "Says the guy who almost brainwashed me," she snapped. The harshness of her tone made him flinch. "Yeah, but you're right," she went on after a beat. "We don't have to fight. Just let us all go and we'll forget about all of this."

  "I would give you anything you ask for, except for that." He actually looked sorry about it. "I can't ever let you go. I have tried, believe me, but I cannot." He took a step towards her, and his subjects moved closer, too. They all started to approach Aline and Trevor and circle them in. Aline knew that if the two of them would let the Prince and his people get any nearer, she and Trevor wouldn't be able to leave the ballroom. The only possible means of escape was to jump out of the nearby balcony, and that wasn't really an option. "Please, Rosamund," the Prince went on speaking. "I already lost you once. But we have found each other again after I have waited and searched for you for so long. So, please. Stay."

  Trevor then reached for Aline’s hand and gave it a squeeze. She looked at him. The glance he threw her way was significant and, even without words, she understood what he meant. There really was only one choice left to them.

  She met the Prince's beseeching eyes with a defiant glare. "I am not Rosamund," she said.

  Then Trevor tightened his grip on her hand painfully, and she felt the thin edge of the silver leaf she gave him cut into her palm.

  She woke up gasping.

  ~~~

  Chapter 8