Pip ran up the hill towards the palace, and then stopped when the fireworks began. He had never seen any before, and was dazzled at the sight of the castle lit up in shades of lavender, pink and blue, with little white stars falling upon it. Then great bursts of scarlet and gold exploded, and green flares which eerily lit up the night, to sounds like bombs going off and the scent of gunpowder in the air. It was if the castle was under attack, yet all done as a spectacle.
There was a final enormous blast of sound, and a fountain of purple flowers seemed to float over the castle walls, ending with a great flourish of white light that glowed like an enormous star or planet over the Clock Tower. Its light ebbed away as the last bell of midnight struck, and then Pip looked down and saw he was an ordinary fair-headed boy in a kitchen uniform.
"Wait a minute, where's Gilbert?" Pip said in a panic.
A few minutes later, there came an angry squeaking in the grass below him.
"Oh Gilbert, I'm so sorry," Pip said contritely, picking his friend up. "I'm sorry I left you behind, and I'll never make you be a horse again. But you were incredible, and I'll get you some earthnuts as a reward."
Pip was still feeding Gilbert his treats when the rest of the kitchen staff came back, chattering about the colourful fireworks, the dancing, music, acrobats, and the horses.
"You should have seen the lady in a lace dress riding a white horse, Pip," said a very young wench named Innogen excitedly. "She looked just like a fairy princess."
"Mm, nice legs," agreed Freddy. "Nice little rump, too. We saw it when her dress fell over her shoulders as she was standing on her hands."
"Not my type," said Jayesh. "I like a girl with a bit more up top, if you know what I mean." He cupped his hands in the air near his chest and bounced them to demonstrate what he meant.
"Pip, the kitchen looks exceptional, and the silver is shining perfectly," said Mr Smedley, patting him on the back. "Freddy confessed to swapping jobs, and that was very wrong of you both, but you've been punished enough. Freddy will be doing his punishment tomorrow."
"I'll help you," Pip mouthed to Freddy.
Freddy looked surprised, but pleased. He'd thought that Pip would barely be speaking to him after everything that had happened. But Pip felt that as his punishment had been done by magic, the least he could do was give Freddy a hand.
**********************
The following morning, Mr Smedley called the kitchen staff together for a meeting. "Now, as you all know, we have a banquet next week to prepare for - ''
"A banquet?" Pip said in surprise. He'd been reliving the moment Bernard kissed his hand the night before, and came out of his daydream to discover he hadn't been listening at all.
"The banquet on Monday week for Prince Bernard's twenty-third birthday," Mr Smedley said with impatience. "The banquet we have been discussing every day for the past week."
"Oh, I see. The banquet," Pip said, nodding his head, and now paying close attention.
Mr Smedley continued. "As Prince Bernard has only just returned home, we have had limited time to prepare, and he brought with him a distinguished companion - ''
"That's his new missus," called out Viviane cheekily.
Mr Smedley gave her a repressive look.
"Princess Dorothea may or may not be a prospective bride," he said sternly. "But we know she is royalty, and a visitor to our kingdom. We must prepare a feast that will show we can provide hospitality for a princess used to the wealth and magnificence of Bjarma."
Pip whispered to Ursula," I didn't know the prince's party was going to be this big."
She stared at him. "Are you a simpleton, Pipsqueak? It's a formal banquet followed by a grand ball, with hundreds of guests. How could you not understand that means it's a big party?"
Pip knew he had been in his own world since Bernard came back to Lindensea, but he now realised that shutting his ears to gossip meant that much of grave import had passed him by.
A worried Pip missed dinner, racing up to the dormitory. He sat on his bunk bed, and called out, "Zarvic? Can you hear me?"
There was no answer. Pip had drawn Zarvic to him the last time through sobbing his eyes out, but he didn't feel like crying right now. He felt tense, with a knot of anxiety in his stomach.
He tried to focus all his energy on the tightness in his throat and chest, crying out urgently, "Magician godfather, I need you. It's Pip."
"What is it now?" Zarvic said grumpily. He had suddenly materialised in the dormitory, and had Bam with him.
"Hello, friend!" barked the black Labrador, jumping up and putting his muddy paws on Pip's white kitchen uniform.
"Bam!" Pip said delightedly, giving him a pat. "What are you doing here?"
"He's my familiar now," Zarvic said. "I mean, let's face it – he didn't really have a future as an entertainer, did he? McNab dumped him and the crowd looked like getting nasty, so I magicked him away with me."
"Zarvic saved me," said Bam, already sounding devoted. "Now I help him with all his magic."
"Yeah, he's been tons of help," said Zarvic, rolling his eyes. "Sorry I couldn't stick around to see how you went, Pip. What happened?"
"Well, the act went alright. Pretty good, really. We got an encore," Pip said. "And the prince gave me flowers, and invited me to a private meeting."
"Oh yeah?" said Zarvic, his eyebrows raised suggestively. "Anything juicy to report?"
"It was a bit awkward, to be honest," Pip admitted. "I know he's a prince and been all over the world, and he's engaged, but I get the impression he's not very good at talking to women."
"Lucky you're not a woman, then," Zarvic said drily.
"And he asked me to his birthday party, which he said was just a few friends, but it turns out it's actually a formal banquet and grand ball for hundreds of people."
Zarvic whistled. "Blimey, he must like you."
"No, Bernard likes Raven LaMidnight, that's the name I made up for myself," Pip said. "She got the invitation, not me."
"Ooh, it's Bernard now, is it?" crowed Zarvic.
"Well, he asked me to call him that," said Pip, "so I said he could call me Raven." He blushed.
Zarvic stuck his finger down his throat and made vomiting noises.
"But anyway, what am I meant to do?" Pip said, his voice rising up the scale.
"You go to the birthday party," Zarvic counselled. "He asked you, so you've got to go."
"Go to the banquet," Bam barked. "Banquet means food. Lots of food."
"But what will I wear?" wailed Pip. "I can't make anything nice enough for a party at the palace."
"Leave all that to me," said Zarvic. "When's this party, then?"
"It's on Monday week, and the invitation says that aperitifs will be served at half past six."
"Meet me outside the palace gates twenty minutes before the party starts, and I'll sort you out. Once again, all I can do is send you to the party looking fit for a prince. After that, it's up to you, and a bit of luck."
"Bring me back some food," Bam said, pawing at Pip's leg.
"Thank you, Zarvic," said Pip, "and thank you, Bam."
He leaned down and rubbed the dog's ears, who pushed his nose into his hand. Pip tried to hug Zarvic, but he shrank away from the offered embrace.
The pair dematerialised, leaving Pip sitting alone, suddenly feeling very hungry. He ran back to the kitchen, hoping that someone would have saved him a bread roll, at least, to hold him until tea.
**********************
On the evening of Bernard's birthday party, Pip put his invitation in the pocket of his uniform, but thought he would never be able to get away from the kitchens. There was so much extra work to do, and he and the other servants had got up before first light and been kept working long hours to prepare for the banquet.
At last, it was twenty minutes before the party was supposed to start, and there was no sign of Mr Smedley allowing Pip a break from work. Unable to think of anything else, he grabbed a knife and deliberately cut his finger until it bled deeply.
"Mr Smedley, Pip is bleeding!" yelled Viviane.
"For the sake of the gods, get out of the kitchen and away from the food," Mr Smedley said. "Quickly, go to the sanatorium. Do you need someone to go with you?"
Pip shook his head, and ran out of the kitchen, his finger wrapped up in a tea towel, and already throbbing. He kept running until he was able to slip through the palace gates, and then hid in some nearby bushes. Although it was a warm spring evening, he was shivering with cold, and felt as if he might faint.
"Bloody hell, what have you done to yourself?" Zarvic said, suddenly appearing with Bam beside him.
"Pip's hurt," Bam said in concern. He made a soft whining noise, and tried to lick the blood away.
"Get off him, Bam! Have you never heard of germs?" said Zarvic in exasperation, putting his hands on Pip's finger.
He quickly healed Pip of his injury, until he was no longer bleeding, no blood could be seen, and no wound or mark at all appeared on his skin.
"Thanks, Zarvic," said Pip, already feeling a bit better. "Sorry about that, only way I could get off work."
"Alright, got another potion for you," said Zarvic, handing over a bottle, filled with pink liquid this time.
It was labelled Belle of the Ball, and Pip drank it down eagerly. There was a flash of pale blue light accompanied by stars, and once again Pip felt the need to spin around three times.
When he looked down at himself, he was wearing a long white organdy ballgown trimmed with silver, the bodice covered in seed pearls. He wished he could see himself in a mirror, but he curled a strand of his hair between two fingers, and it was black again. When he gently patted his hair, he could feel flowers twisted into it, and a single petal fell, revealing itself to be from a white rosebud, deliciously scented .
Pip could see he had a pearl necklace around his throat, and on his feet were high heeled slippers made from glass.
"Wow, glass shoes," Pip marvelled.
He tried walking in the shoes, and foundered. It was like sliding on a slippery surface.
"Careful with those," Zarvic advised him. "You can only walk very slowly and elegantly in glass slippers."
Pip took two mincing, glacial steps, tripped over the high heels, and came crashing down, the glass slippers shattering into the traditional million pieces before disappearing.
"Whoops," said Pip with an embarrassed grin.
"Not to worry," said Zarvic breezily. "I've got these as back up." He took out a pair of dirty old shoes from somewhere behind him.
"Is this a joke?" cried Pip.
Zarvic ignored him, and moved his hands over the shoes, while muttering incantations. There was a flash of yellow light, and there was now a beautiful pair of silver shoes to match the dress.
"These are much better, thanks Zarvic," said Pip, as he slipped them on his feet. He wriggled his toes, and thought the shoes might be a touch too big for him, but looked perfect. "Sorry I broke the glass ones."
Zarvic gave an understanding hand wave. "That potion is a bit old-fashioned now, and always tries to make people wear glass shoes," he said. "It thinks they're romantic, but they're not really that practical."
"Well, here I go," said Pip, beginning to feel excited.
"Don't forget – it's just until midnight, yeah?" Zarvic reminded him.
"I'll remember. Thanks, Zarvic. Thanks, Bam," said Pip, patting the dog goodbye. His mouth was already dry from nerves.
Pip got back through the gates easily enough by walking at the rear of a large group of people who had all arrived together, and then let them get ahead before he walked up the front steps of the castle. He had a pearl evening bag attached to the belt of his dress which he opened, discovering his invitation in there. He took it out and presented it to the footman.
"Please excuse me one moment, Miss," said the footman politely, and went to consult with a more senior footman.
Pip strained to listen to their conversation, but all he heard was special circumstances, and orders come direct from the prince. Was it his imagination, or did the footmen eye him shrewdly, as if sizing him up?
"I do apologise for that delay, Miss," said the senior footman, coming forward to escort Pip up the steps himself. When they reached the top, the footman announced his arrival loudly.
"I present to the company ... Miss Raven LaMidnight!"