Dark Heart Rising (12 page)

I couldn’t afford to.

‘R
aphael was with them?’ Vanya set her glass down on the table. ‘He certainly seems to have ingratiated himself back with his old friends.’ She pursed her lips, considering something. ‘Clever boy, that one.’

I looked at her, not knowing what she meant.

‘He seemed very friendly … as friendly as he would be in that kind of situation.’ Soren leaned back in his chair.

‘Angelic manners, you see,’ Vanya replied with some distaste.

‘Odd, though.’ Soren narrowed his eyes. ‘He was almost welcoming. I am a total stranger. Quite possibly a threat …’

‘Well.’ Vanya smiled tightly at me. ‘Who knows what goes on in that boy’s head?’

I smiled tightly back, then glanced subtly down at my watch. It was half past four. Teatime. Who knew what time it was back home?

Vanya got up to get us some food, just as there was a loud hammering on the door. She stopped, glaring at the sound.

‘Who the devil can that be?’ she muttered. ‘Nobody visits us. Nobody likes us.’

Valdar, who had been intent on reading his paper, raised his head calmly.

‘Want me to get it, dear?’ he said smoothly.

Vanya sighed heavily. ‘Let’s just ignore it. Whoever it is, they’ll get the message.’

But the knocking grew louder and more persistent. Soren fidgeted in his seat.

‘It could be important,’ he told us. ‘I’ll deal with it.’

He moved quickly out of the room, to the now deafening sound coming from upstairs. Vanya got to her feet, gliding towards the doorway, craning her head up the stairs.

‘A man,’ she said quietly. ‘It sounds like—’

But the door was slammed shut, heavily, and Soren was coming back down.

‘Who was it?’ Vanya said, almost excitedly.

‘Just one of those boys …’ Soren glanced quickly at me, before smiling at her. ‘The ones that hang around in the town … some kind of prank.’

‘But I heard you talking to someone …’ Vanya frowned at him. ‘I’m sure I—’

‘I was shouting into thin air!’ Soren gave a forced kind of chuckle. ‘Whoever it was, they’d run off.’

I eyed him suspiciously. Something wasn’t quite right here.

‘Really,’ Vanya huffed. ‘How irritating.’

‘Soren,’ I said, getting to my feet, ‘can I have a word? Alone?’

‘What’s going on?’ I asked when we were safely alone upstairs. ‘Who was that at the door?’

Soren opened his mouth, but hesitated before speaking. ‘I told you … I didn’t see anyone.’

I stared at him, and eventually saw his eyes soften, and then he shrugged.

‘OK.’ He sighed. ‘It was Raphael.’

‘What? What did he want?’

‘I’m not really sure …’ Soren got up from the bed, on which we were both sitting. ‘He seems very interested in me.’

‘You’re a stranger. Maybe he is just doing what he thinks is his duty, checking you out?’ Even as I said it I knew that sounded unlikely.

‘Perhaps. There is something really quite odd about Raphael … I can’t put my finger on it.’ Soren looked thoughtful.

‘Maybe he’s still mad?’ I shrugged. ‘Or not completely over his … breakdown.’

‘He has nobody.’ Soren sounded so mournful that I almost laughed.

‘Only the whole of the Celestial kingdom.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘He’s really freaked you out, hasn’t he?’

‘It’s just I am sure he is after something …’ Soren shook his head. ‘He lingered as though he wanted more than just to check I was staying here with Vanya …’

‘Well he must have changed his mind,’ I said. ‘And to be honest Raphael is the last person I want to be thinking about right now. I had hoped I would never have to see him again.’

‘No.’ Soren smiled. ‘I didn’t think about that. Let’s just forget it. It was nothing after all.’ He ran his fingers through his inky hair. ‘But perhaps we should keep out of his way from now on.’

I had never seen Soren so … down. But I couldn’t fathom it. I decided to shrug it off.

‘So. What next?’ I asked, a sense of steeliness overtaking me.

‘R
affy, dear.’ Celeste entered the dining room, where her great-son was staring vacantly at his plate of food. She looked perturbed, her brow creased with worry.

The boy looked up, though still distracted.

‘Good morning,’ he said, rising from his chair out of courtesy.

‘Everything all right?’ She settled herself on a chair and poured some teas from the pot into a cup. ‘You seem a little absent at the moment.’

‘I
am
a little tired,’ answered Raphael, smiling now. ‘We went for a long ride yesterday.’

‘We?’ Celeste raised an eyebrow.

‘Lowe, and a couple of the stable boys.’ Raphael picked up a fork and poked at his food, now cold. ‘It is good exercise, but I feel I am wasting my days … I should be engaged in something more productive.’

Celeste smiled approvingly. She sipped her tea elegantly, before putting her cup down.

‘I am glad to hear you say that…And…as you know, the Celestial Parade is in a few days. I think it would be a good time for you to take up your place as a senior member of this family. I would like you to host the event.’

Raphael looked a little startled, but recovered himself quickly.

‘Of course … it would be an honour.’ He smiled, but with ambivalence. He had hoped to spend the next few days planning. The Celestial Parade was held twice a year, to celebrate the seasons of summer and winter. Marching bands, a military display – pomp and ceremony to show the people of Nissilum how mighty a place it was and how wonderful its traditions were. Afterwards, a selection of folk were invited back to the palace for a lavish banquet. It was this that Celeste meant him to host. He wondered if he was capable of pretending for that long.

‘Wonderful.’ Celeste beamed. ‘Of course, the staff here will assist you in every way possible.’

‘Yes.’ Raphael nodded, hiding his irritation. ‘Good.’

‘I do worry about you still,’ said his great-mother, her face softening with concern. ‘You are still just a boy. But with your father gone—’

‘Yes.’ He cut her off and got to his feet. ‘You need not worry. I am perfectly capable of stepping up to the mark.’

‘I know that.’ Celeste was taken aback. ‘I simply meant—’

‘I know. I must go … I need to inspect the cellar stores,’ Raphael told her.

‘Of course.’ She nodded, waiting for his back to turn before giving vent to more anxiety in her expression.

Raphael made his way down to the palace basement. It was cold, dark, and his footsteps echoed on the stone steps. Reaching the bottom, he stopped outside a large wooden cupboard and opened it. Inside, dozens of keys hung on dozens of hooks. Reaching in, the boy ran his fingers almost tenderly across them before he plucked a bunch down and shut the door to the cupboard.

Advancing down the marble corridor, he made for a door at the end, next to the palace cells. The Armory. Inside he would find all the weapons the palace had at its disposal in the rare event of an attack. Raphael found the right key and opened the heavy door. Inside was an array of somewhat crude weaponry. Crossbows, swords. On the walls, assorted sizes of guns.

There wasn’t much. But perhaps enough.

Raphael breathed in and out slowly, excitement was mounting inside him. He leaned back against the heavy door, his eyes running back and forth over what he could see inside this room. Then he slumped down to his knees, putting his hands to his temples. Pictures flashed through his mind. Today he felt as though he had seen a ghost. He had no idea where he came from, but the black-eyed boy residing at Vanya Borgia’s house was significant. Almost as though he had arrived on Nissilum, just as Raphael was feeling such restlessness, by design. Raphael had somehow felt him to be a kindred spirit. But how he had come to know Jane … ? Raphael lifted his head, feeling fuzzy-headed. He must think clearly. He had much to do … and he needed all his wits about him.

‘H
ere.’ Soren tossed a stiff white card at me.

I had been lying in the bedroom, gazing out of the window, wondering what time it was back home. What day. It seemed like I had been gone for ever. I had to keep remembering that time here moved slowly. That in reality I had probably only been gone for a few hours.

The card landed beside me on the bed. As I focussed on what was written on it, I sat up blearily.

‘The Celestial Parade,’ I read out, then looked up at Soren. ‘What is this?’

‘Vanya got her special invitation today,’ he said. ‘It is a big occasion for all the heads of Nissilum’s families. A time for spreading love and harmony amongst vampires, werewolves and witches …’ He spoke in a facetious monotone.

‘That’s nice.’ I handed him back the card. ‘But it has nothing to do with me, does it?’

He perched on the end of the bed. ‘Why not?’

‘Because I won’t be going.’ I laughed darkly. ‘I mean, I can’t see Henora greeting me with open arms, can you?’

‘Well, no. But she needn’t know you’re there.’

I gave him a look. ‘Listen. You want to see Luca, right?’ Soren fixed me with a look of his own.

‘Well, yes. But I don’t think—’

Soren waved a hand dismissively. ‘Think of it as fancy dress.’

I narrowed me eyes. ‘Soren. What are you up to?’

‘Vanya has a marvellous selection of disguises … Wigs, for example.’ He cocked his head. ‘Platinum blonde, perhaps?’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘No. Something dark to bring out your eyes and give you a vampirish edge.’

I flared my nostrils. ‘No way.’

‘For myself, I favour curls.’ He turned to the mirror over the dressing table, and ruffled his hair theatrically. ‘Chestnut curls.’

I fought a smile. ‘Soren, you’re actually enjoying this, aren’t you?’

‘Well, why not? If all else fails, think of the tale you will be able to tell your grandchildren.’

‘I can’t think that far ahead,’ I sighed. ‘And Luca won’t even recognise me.’

‘If he truly loves you …’ Soren said, looking directly into my eyes. ‘He will recognise you.’

Vanya threw open a white-painted door off the landing.

‘Here,’ she said, ‘I have so many outfits to choose from!’ She pushed me forward into a vast cupboard – the size of my bedroom at home. Two long rails stood end to end, packed with clothes. Below the rails, hundreds of pairs of shoes. Above, dozens of hats and wigs.

I fiddled with my hair. ‘I don’t know where to start.’

Vanya whirled round, flashing me a white smile. ‘Luckily for you, I do.’ She turned back and advanced towards one side of the room, riffling through some dresses. Sparkling, sombre, delicate and pale, dark and velvet.

‘Now,’ she said breathlessly, ‘I think something dramatically different for you, darling.’

‘I don’t want to stand out,’ I protested.

‘No,’ she said dryly, ‘of course you don’t.’ She picked out a tight crimson velvet dress, strapless, with a bottom like a fish tail. Over the bust was a sprinkling of sequins, and a large velvet corsage, like a black rose, positioned where the shoulder should be.

I stepped forward, intrigued in spite of myself.

‘You like?’ Vanya’s voice was syrupy and she beckoned me forward. ‘Why don’t you try it on?’

‘I don’t know.’ I bit my lip. ‘It looks a little …’

‘A little
sexy
?’ She sniffed. ‘Honestly, you are infuriating. Why do you insist on hiding your body?’ She looked me up and down. ‘You really shouldn’t … it could be your most valuable weapon.’

‘You think?’ I tried not to look down. Truth be told, I had never felt less sexy. It’s funny what a little rejection can do for your confidence.

‘Don’t let it,’ Vanya spoke softly, reading my mind. My eyes widened.

I took the dress from her. ‘I’ll try it.’

Vanya moved quickly to the shelf above the wheel, plucking a short black poker-straight bob from a doll’s head. It was so glossy I could practically see my reflection in it.

‘Absolutely not,’ I said, shaking my head.

‘Oh pleeeassse,’ Vanya wheedled. ‘Just try it?’

I grabbed it from her. ‘OK. Now please leave.’

‘OK,’ she said meekly, picking up the hem of her dress. She had the tiniest waist imaginable I noticed. ‘But I’ll be just outside, dear. Let me know when you’re ready.’

I waited for her to shut the door behind her before I started taking off my jeans, T-shirt and cardigan. I pushed down my bra straps and stepped into the dress. It slipped up my body effortlessly. I looked down. I was long, and lean. My waist was tiny and the bust was the perfect size.

So far so good.

I looked at the wig, puffing out my cheeks, then gathered my long hair up and tied it as neatly as I could into a small bun. Luckily it was fine and, when I patted it down, didn’t create too much of a bump. I pulled on the wig, tucking loose strands of hair underneath. It had a short blunt fringe and was cut geometrically, like a kind of sexy black helmet.