Chapter 17 #2
Bart straightened his costume. He liked that he had a bit of time before stepping onto the stage.
The two women were to argue about how the beautiful princess was to get the fabulous man—meaning Bart—while the maid would get nothing.
The jealous maid was so angry that she would try to kill the princess.
That’s when Bart was to enter. The audience would gasp at his rugged manliness, then Bart would save the princess.
He liked to surprise the people who went to see him regularly by changing the script a bit.
Sometimes he’d murder the maid and sometimes he’d just banish her.
It depended on if he was sleeping with the actress playing the maid.
One way he got the women was to hint that he was thinking of completely changing the ending.
He’d murder the princess then run away with the maid.
Of course that was a lie, but sometimes it was necessary to say to get what he wanted.
But today seemed different. “What’s going on?”
The manager’s made-up eyes were wide. “I have no idea. Both of these girls are new, but I gave them a script. I think I did,
but then who doesn’t know the plot of this play? But they’ve gone so far off it, I don’t know what they’re doing.”
“It’s the audience that matters. What’re they saying?”
“Nothing. They’re silent. I can’t tell if they hate it or love it.” He pulled back a corner of the curtain. “See if you understand
what’s going on.”
A woman’s voice loudly said, “You’re about to have an affair with a married man!”
“That’s the girl playing the princess,” the manager said.
The other woman, the maid, spoke, her voice angry. “I am not! But why shouldn’t I since I’m missing out on all those men in
Selkan? But I am not the problem. You put the entire island in jeopardy, but then, you’ve always done what you want.”
“I have no idea what they’re talking about,” the manager said.
Bart shrugged his wide shoulders. “Oh well, it’ll change when I get there.” He flipped back the heavy curtain, stepped into
the light, then waited for the usual applause.
But there was none. The light made it difficult to see the audience clearly, but over the years—too many, some said—he’d developed the ability to see them.
The audience was almost in a trance, their eyes wide, mouths open.
In shock. Bart frowned. This is why plots shouldn’t be changed, he thought.
Changes take away from the main attraction.
By that, he meant him. He was the star and those girls better not forget it!
The princess—who was indeed a knockout—screeched, “I was to marry Nessa! He is a whining wimp of a—”
The maid said, “You think you’re the only one to have a mate forced upon her? My father has chosen a man for me. He is forty-two
years old, but his finances are stable and he has a nice house, so that makes him a fine match.”
The princess set her jaw. “You sneered at me for my whole life. You ridiculed me.”
The maid snapped back. “And you never missed an opportunity to let us know you thought we were stupid! You took your anger
at Olina out on us. We didn’t lock you up!”
This has to stop! Bart thought, so he stepped closer to the women. He expected them to halt. To draw in their breaths and go into a state of
awe. On an island with many beautiful people, Bart stood above them all.
When the women turned to look at him, he gave his most endearing smile. Dazzling but with a hint of humility.
The princess said, “Not as good as Mekos.”
The maid snorted. “Nor Tanek or even Roal. Certainly not Tam.”
The women looked at each other. “At last we agree on something,” the princess said.
When the women immediately went back to their argument about who’d had the worst life, Bart was quite agitated.
He walked to the side of the stage and artfully posed himself against the fireplace.
He knew from experience that it was a stance guaranteed to get the attention of the women.
He very much liked their little squeals of lust. He even liked the scowls of the men.
Bart adjusted his shirt to show off the inflated pecs he’d worked so hard to get.
It was all perfect—except that the two women on stage didn’t look at him.
This was extremely annoying as the plot of the play was that they were both supposed to want him.
Covet him. Fight each other to the death to get him.
The beautiful princess yelled, “You have no idea what I went through. I had private things—dangerous things—going on in my life.”
The girl playing the maid gave her a look of contempt. It was so good that Bart thought he should practice re-creating it
in front of a mirror. The girl’s disdain was so realistic that she didn’t even raise her voice. Good acting, Bart thought.
The maid said, “Do you mean your books or your training with Hale?”
Who wrote this script? Bart wondered. He’d never heard anything like it.
The princess looked so angry that steam seemed to come out of her ears. “Did Olina pay you to spy on me?”
The maid’s anger seemed to reach a peak—and from her expression, it was as though something inside her broke. “You ungrateful
bitch! My father distracted the guards while I hid your illegal books under my clothes. We risked our lives to help you.”
The princess looked so shocked that Bart almost believed their dialogue was real. Where did these girls train? Did someone on Empyrea adjust their chips so they could do this? If so, where do I get it done to me?
He looked into the darkness at the audience. He’d never seen them so still. Usually, they were fussing over the mass of food
they had with them, or telling their kids to shut up. When he was on, the women were lusting over him while the men were frowning.
He loved that part! But now, all eyes were staring at the girls. The whole audience was transfixed! They weren’t moving, not
eating. They didn’t even seem to be breathing.
This annoyed Bart so much that he looked around. What could he do to get the attention onto himself—where it should be? When
he glanced to the side, he saw the little Never puppet. Who put that thing there? he wondered. It wasn’t needed for this play. Maybe he’d get some praise if he returned it to where it belonged. After this fiasco, I need praise. He reached for the puppet. To his shock, the thing moved!
By all that was holy, had he found a real Never? Did they actually exist? When his hand started to close about the thing, it made a leap straight up into the air.
Bart forgot about how those nothing-nobody girls were stealing all the attention, and made a grab for the creepy little thing.
He caught something—he was, after all, a great athlete—but he missed its body. Instead, Bart ended up holding a little carved
stick. He stared at it. What is this? he wondered.
He was so absorbed in whatever was in his hand that he didn’t realize that the girls had abruptly stopped shouting. He looked
at them. They were staring at him. At last, he thought. The stage thieves were finally giving him the attention he deserved.
But then, they yelled. Screeched really. In perfectly timed unison, they shouted, “YOU HURT IAN!”
“Huh?” was the only word Bart had time to get out of his mouth before he was attacked—and that’s the only way to describe
what they did.
The princess grabbed a steel poker from beside the fireplace.
That isn’t a prop! he was about to warn, but he wasn’t given the courtesy of time to explain. The princess whipped that long poker through the
air like she knew how to handle it—and it went very near Bart’s chest. He was about to speak out in protest but then he felt
something. On his chest, across his perfectly trimmed manly hair, over his perfect chest muscles, was a split line. She had
cut his new shirt! Then, with horror, he thought, She has cut me! Blood was seeping out.
Bart felt dizzy.
In the next second, the maid stepped close. Bart’s only thought was that someone was going to take care of him. But to his
shock, the maid put her hands on his chest and pushed him. So what? A push from a girl wasn’t anything to concern him.
To Bart’s horror, he went sailing back through the wall—and it broke.
The mantel of the fake fireplace bent around him like it was trying to hug him.
There was a moment when he was in the air, wrapped in the fireplace, then bam!
He sailed all the way through to hit the floor of Stage Two.
He managed to keep his head up so it didn’t hit the floor, but still, he was dazed.
He looked up to see the rest of the wall, now with a giant hole in it, teeter then fall around him.
The noise made him wince; the dust made him cough.
Next, the curtain that had been drawn across the stage came down.
When it fell, he knew the audience could see him sitting there surrounded by the layers of fallen wall and thick curtain.
Dazed as he was, Bart didn’t dare look at the audience. It was no telling how they were taking this. Would they defend him
or be glad of his humiliation?
Bart saw the two women stamp across the rubble of the wall toward him. He was pinned down under the debris and his instinct
was to throw his arms over his face and beg them not to further hurt him. But he was too aware of his reputation for being
the manliest of men. Bracing himself, he stared up at the women, one on each side of him.
The maid held out her hand.
Bart gave a weak smile. Good! She was sorry for what she’d done—accidently, of course—and was offering help. But when he lifted
his hand, she snatched hers back.
On the other side, the princess held out her hand. “Give it to me!”
It took a moment to know what she meant. It was then that Bart realized he was still holding the little piece of carved wood
that had been on that puppet. The “puppet” that flew across the room.
He held it up and she rudely grabbed it out of his hand.
“You bastard!” the princess said to him.
The maid said, “Pick on someone your own size, you bully!”
The women stamped back to Stage One.
Bart could only stare at them. He had no idea what was going on.
He watched as the princess held up the wooden piece, then the “puppet” flew to her shoulder, and she handed the stick to him.
Bart heard a male voice say, “Thank you,” then the two—or was it three?
—people left the stage. The back curtain closed.
When Aradella and Bree were on the other side of the curtain, they looked at each other in shock, then turned away. They had
just seen different viewpoints of their entire lives.
Aradella spoke first. “I think we lost out on being given anything. No rose for us.” When Bree didn’t reply, Aradella said,
“Your push.” She was asking a question.
Bree hesitated. “I inherited some of my father’s strength.”
“And you kept it secret from everyone? Even your sister?”
Bree nodded. “Just Papá knows. We used to sneak out at night to train.”
“That’s when you saw me with Hale,” Aradella said.
Bree nodded. “Yes. We—”
“Starken-el, you two!” the man they’d seen earlier shouted. From his attitude, he was the owner. “Get out there and take your
bows. That audience is cheering and screaming. I’ve never heard anything like it!” He threw back the curtain and they could
see through to the stone seats. Everyone, male, female, children, even some weird-looking animals, were shouting and clapping.
“For us?” Aradella asked.
The man rolled his eyes. “Brainless but talented!” He put his hand on Aradella’s back to push her forward, started to touch
Bree, but then drew back. “I’ll give you half of everything I own if you two will do that every week.”
“Thanks,” Aradella said, “but this was a one-time performance.”
The man looked at Bree. “As for you, power baby, anytime you wanta spend the night with me, I’m yours.” He stepped away from
them. “Go!”
When Aradella and Bree got to the front of the stage, the audience went wild with cheering. The women looked at the flattened wall. Bart was no longer there but the evidence of what they’d done was.
Aradella grabbed Bree’s hand and raised her arm like the winner of a contest. Bree looked reluctant, but Aradella nodded to
the other arm. Bree raised both arms and the crowd yelled even louder.
What they didn’t see in the shadows was Tam, Mekos, and Qip. They’d seen the entire play.
Mekos looked at Tam. “Did you know?”
It was easy to figure out that he meant Bree’s strength. “Yes,” Tam said rather smugly.
They looked back to see the stage manager making his way through the rubble on the nearly demolished Stage Two. He moved debris
until he found the purple rose in the vase. He picked it up, walked across the fallen wall, then made a flamboyant gesture
of presenting it to Aradella and Bree like it was a trophy.
Each woman put a hand on the vase and raised it in triumph. There was wild cheering.
Hidden at the side of the audience, Qip looked at Mekos and Tam. “Think you two can live up to that?”
“No,” Mekos said. “Not even close.” His voice told of his pride in the woman he loved.
“Definitely not,” Tam said. “However, I was wondering about the affair part. I could—”
“Touch my relative and you die,” Mekos said amicably. “I’ll call the fox world on you. And the birds.”
“Since when are you related to Princess Bree?”
“Since—”
They bickered all the way back to the wagon. Behind them, Qip nodded toward the young men and thought, I just want those two to stay alive.