Guardians Book One - Magic Rising

Chapter Thirty Eight

The doors were pulled back and held open, although Kath couldn't quite see by whom. Inside, was a ballroom, chandelier'd, hung with paintings, and filled with whirling, spinning dancers, although Kath couldn't hear any music at all. Black-suited waiters bearing glass-laden trays moved in and out of the crowd, smooth and seamless, not once interrupting any of the dancers. Kath expected a collision, but no; they just slipped in and out of the whirls of peacock fabric and limbs. Occasionally someone would snag a glass from their tray, and the waiter would turn in a neat bow before moving on. Every single one of the dancers' faces was completely generic. They were different sexes and races, but they all looked more like the stereotypical version of whatever they were. Their expressions were distant, although not unhappy.

"Come in and join the dance!" the voice was a trill, even sweeter and higher than Day's voice, startling Kath from her reverie. Kath glanced around, and the source of the voice was before her; a little girl no taller than Kath's waist, wearing a glittery pink dress. She had long, curled blond hair, huge blue eyes and absolutely angelic features, although her face was smooth as wax, her eyes strangely expressionless.

"Uh, thanks," said Kath, transfixed by the scene. Pes gave her a gentle nudge in the back, and she stepped forward to allow him past.

"We're just visiting," he told the girl, calmly. "We're looking for someone. Someone who answered their invitation a little early."

The girl shook her head, and Kath heard bells chiming. Church bells, maybe, distant and deep, at odds with the girl's sweet little face. She forced herself to listen to the reply. The dancers -  all clad beautifully, but something about them seemed off...

"A shame. Yet the dance of waiting is not the end, as we all know. Perhaps he would like to stay? Partake of the refreshments?" She snapped her fingers, producing a startlingly loud click, and a suited waiter appeared from the crowd.

"Ma'am?"

"Drinks for the guests," she commanded, and he bowed, flourishing the tray. Kath looked dubiously at the glasses. It looked like champagne, but who knew?

"Please. Drink," insisted the little girl, and although her rosy lips were smiling and her voice was full of sweetness and mirth, there was still such a sharpness about her eyes. Kath's hand wavered over the glass. The little girl was still staring.

Pes picked up a glass and inclined his head, toasting the child with it. "A pleasure." He very deliberately caught Kath's eye and held the glass to his lips, tipped it up, but Kath could see his lips were pressed shut, so none of the liquid could enter. Grabbing a glass she mimicked him.

"Cheers," she said, a little too perkily, and tipped it up. The liquid sloshed about; this close, she could smell how stingingly acrid it was.

The child's face relaxed into a massive beam. "Marvellous! Now you may join the festivities. Come, come!" She turned on one foot and danced off, light as a sunbeam, followed by the silent waiter. Kath stared after her, then leaned over to tip the contents of the glass into a pot plant.

"What was it?" she asked, wiping her lips just in case on the back of her hand.

"Something not meant for us," said Pes, placing his glass behind a vase. "Not yet, anyway. Better safe than sorry. Let's follow her. James is in there somewhere." He motioned to the dancing crowd. Kath started to scan the faces as she trailed after him, and suddenly, gasped as she realised what was so wrong.

They're...corpses. Oh god. She clamped her jaw together to stop herself gagging. At first glance they looked like normal humans, but when she focussed on them with Sight, they weren't, not at all. Their skin was burned away, bullet holes poured blood in their heads and torsos, gaping wounds leered at Kath from under the edges of the beautiful clothes. I can't...She retched. Pes was at her side instantly.

"It's all an illusion," he whispered. "That's just another layer of it, right? Look past that. You'll see 'em, like us."

"I can't," Kath whispered. Can't look at them again. They're rotting...

Pes squeezed her arm. "You can. You can do it. Then you'll only see them that way. I promise."

Kath hissed the air between her teeth, and forced herself to look up at the nearest figure. He was an old Chinese man, the skin flaking and peeling away from his face to the skull beneath. Kath felt the burning bile rise, but Pes pressed firmly on her forearm, and she made herself look again. And this time, thankfully, the vision faded, and he was a younger man, with laughing eyes and thick dark hair, a kind, patient expression, and a mask about his eyes covered in jewels and sand grains. She almost melted in relief.  As she turned her gaze to his dance partner, a short, blond man, she realised the same – Pes was right, she wasn't seeing their deaths any more but their lives, their essences. The blond man was just a normal man – neither generic nor deathly – just a man in a feathery mask, dancing on.

"Thank god," she muttered, her legs watery. Seeing James like that would have been too much – although he wasn't dead, was he? These were the dead.

"Why are they here?" she murmured. The little girl whisked forward from the crowd, her face impatient.

"Why do you not come? The dancers recover themselves here, for as long as they need it, in this nowhereplace, before their energy, their essences, that which is linked to all magic and life, is moved."

"Moved?" Kath said, numbly. "Moved where?"

The little girl laughed, and this time, it sounded dizzying, ancient. "On," she said. And Kath knew that was all she would be getting.

"Hey!" she raised a trembling finger as a familiar face came up behind the child. She felt her face paling; beside her, Pes bowed, gently.

"Lord Alexander," he said, his voice heavy with reverence.

"Pestilence. Kath. I am so glad I could see you this one more time," Alexander laughed, and his face was more carefree than Kath had ever seen it in life – more human. He didn't glow; he was just a man, a tall, strong man, bearded, green eyed and relaxed. "I've been watching you, where I can. My Vicky...I'll wait for her, although Lord willing, it will be a long time yet." He smiled. "And...my daughter."

"Lady wanted to say she loves you," Kath said, hurriedly, desperate to get it out for Lady's sake. "She says it's OK. She says she understands."

"It's true," Pes added, quietly. "She always told me how much she looked up to you, how much she cherished the time you spent together, when you taught her how to shoot, when you read to her. She wanted to make you proud, always."

Alexander's eyes closed, and he smiled, and sighed, and there was both joy and grief in the sound. "I am glad. She has made me proud. My Lady. She would have been a better vessel than I, I am sure. She amazed me every day with everything she did. Please tell her. I hope she knows."

"I think she does," said Pes, and the two men exchanged a long look Kath didn't understand. Alexander inclined his head towards Pes.

"I shall always owe you my affection, and I wish you happiness. I always wanted to think of you as a son," he said to the Guardian, who flushed slightly, as if there he heard more to the words than Kath understood. Kath tilted her head, but before she could reply, she froze; her heart stopped as caught sight of another figure making her way through the crowd towards them – a figure she always had hoped beyond hope she might one day see again. Her ears filled with the little girl's laughter as she stepped forward, reaching out her arms for a hug she'd craved almost all her life. The figure was wearing a dress not unlike Kath's, a deep burnished orange, but with long black slashes in the skirt. Her mask was a tiger, and she was slightly younger than Kath remembered, but she would have known her anywhere, anywhere at all. She smelled the same, too – fresh baked cakes, oak and lilac. Her face wrinkled with joy as she smiled, drawing Kath close.

"Little Kathy," she whispered. "Ye didn'a give up, did ye?"

"Gran," Kath whispered, and burst into tears.