Chapter Twenty-Seven
After we close the shop, on a day that couldn’t have been any more perfect—just being there with my sisters, even with the curious customers gazing at both Aven and me—we pause at the door as I lock it, pocket the keys. I’m going in a different direction.
“Should we expect you for dinner?” Sélie asks with a teasing grin, the pretty blue of her dress just visible under her heavy cloak.
I try not to sound so uncertain, nervous.
I only answer a mild, “Either way, you’ll know what happens.
” I turn to Aven, her eyes bright, her cheeks rosy.
She looks so alive I could cry. Grief doesn’t simply just disappear, but healing comes to soften it over time, and hers has begun.
For that, I could cry even more. “I suppose you’re exhausted, with all that. ”
“A little.” She laughs at my meaning.
It was intense, but not as bad as it could have been.
Constable Elden must have alerted someone of the mistaken presumed death, that Aven is, in fact, alive, and town gossips spread it wide.
There was no shortage of people coming into our apothecary all day, just to get a glimpse of Aven, to tell her how happy they were that she was actually alive.
Most of them—not all—kept their questions to themselves.
But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a lot for her.
I shift from foot to foot. “Maybe I’ll go tomorrow instead.”
“No.” A shake of her head. “You said today. Well, I didn’t forget. Go, now. Go to him. It’s been long enough.”
I hug her so hard she coughs. I apologize, smiling, then take Sélie into my arms next. “Wish me luck,” I say.
She says, “The way that man looked at you, dear sister, I hardly think you need it!”
They leave me in a peal of smug laughter. I watch them go, my soul fed. And I walk on, alone, in the other direction.
At my back, by the docks, seagulls squawk.
A ship calls out. Children play in the street, and it is all perfect.
I’m glad to be back here in the mess of The Pins, I’m so glad.
The wind calls, the cold breeze of autumn.
The air whispers to me. And it doesn’t feel odd anymore. Or it does, but no odder than I am.
Because I’ve had magic. I’ve lived it. And I belong here. Life feels right again. Full of possibilities. Before I go to the mansion, I have three places to go.
First, I stop to visit Marieta, bringing her all the treats my arms can hold, and a healthy dose of thanks for encouraging me to find Orrin—which she eats up faster than the caramels I hand over.
Afterwards, I go to the Red Clover. My own pink shoes are tucked in a bag at my side.
Julian will either have me, or he won’t.
But I’ve lost a lot worse. Besides, several times, someone made me dance when I didn’t want to.
Yet no matter what, no one could ever make me stop.
Julian is calm as I explain as much as I can.
“Your sister mentioned a family emergency.” His eyes hold concern.
“Yes,” I say. “I had to get my other sister from a dangerous situation—it was life-threatening. I never would have left so abruptly otherwise. I just wanted to come in person, first to apologize for leaving without a word of explanation. Secondly, for taking so long to return. And third, to beg you to let me audition again. If you will consider having me back.”
He frowns, stroking his smooth chin. “Why would you have to re-audition?”
“Because.” I look down at myself. Back to him. I take a breath. “I’ve changed, and I don’t think my dancing is as strong. So perhaps you won’t want me after all.”
“Dance, then, please.” He waves a hand and ushers me out of his office, toward the empty, unlit stage. “Afterwards, we will talk.”
I wait while he finds Dina and brings her to play. My stomach still twists nervously as I dance in my own, worn shoes. I try not to compare the music of Dina’s perfectly fine playing to Mr. Brown’s delicate fingers on the keys in the ballroom. I try not to compare anything.
Instead, I let the music wash over me, the sound, the joy.
I am here, I am alive. I dance gratefully, like I’ve just been reborn.
My dancing is alive, too, lit with passion, wild with it.
So what if it’s not perfect? I’m scared, too, but I dance through the fear.
Orrin loved my dancing, no matter what I had on my feet.
Maybe Julian will as well. I don’t have to be Bell with the red shoes. I can simply be Bell.
When I’m through Julian simply nods. “Welcome back.”
A smile spreads across my face, and we discuss my return, the sets I’ll need to make up for the next show. Before I leave, I run to the backroom to see who is there, even though it’s a bit early for practice. I stop first in the men’s dressing room, and Lysander practically tosses me up in the air.
“We were worried about you.” He tugs me to the women’s dressing room and flings open the door dramatically. “Look who’s back!”
Pearl tightly hugs me, wrapping me in her strong arms and sweet perfume.
“Thank you,” I gush, then pull away and look into her warm, sparkling eyes. “I appreciate you looking out for Sélie while I was away. She’s told us so much, and I am so thankful that she’s got a friend like you.”
“I’m lucky to have her too! Though, I suppose you won’t need my help anymore at the shop.” Her face falls.
“I wouldn’t say that.” I grin. “Sélie would be crushed if you didn’t come back. We’ll work it out—today was just important for the three of us to be together. Tomorrow come by, if you can, and we’ll figure out proper shifts.”
“Alright.” She nods brightly.
“What’d you do, Corliss?” Tanna blurts out, edging forward, curiosity coming off her in waves. “Go off and have a baby or something? Commit a crime and have to run from the law?”
“No.” I laugh when I realize she’s teasing.
“Definitely not. Neither. It was just some family business. It’s taken care of.
So now I’m back. Aven is as well. She didn’t die after all, which I’m sure most of you already heard.
Everything is good.” I can’t help the tears that spring to my eyes.
I don’t mind weeping in front of them though.
“Stay for a while, Corliss? I know you’re not dancing tonight, but you can talk to us while we get ready?” Lysander cajoles. “Tell us what you’ve been up to? Maybe go down to the tavern with us after the show? Star is taking us out tonight—her treat!”
Regretfully, I shake my head. I’d love to stay. I’d love to deepen all these connections of my own, one day. Except there’s something else I want more right now. “Not today. I can’t wait to get back here to work, to hear how you’ve been. But I have to be somewhere right now.”
I hug them each one more time—even Tanna. When she embraces me back, I smile fondly.
I only have one final stop before I get to the Colehart Mansion. I walk fast.
It feels so strange to knock on the door. The only other time I knocked, Mr. Brown answered.
This time, a tall, handsome young man in a crisp butler suit answers, his skin dark-golden brown and his eyes a striking pale blue.
“I’m here to see Orrin. Is he home?” I ask, somehow nervous. I fist my white dress in my hands to keep them busy.
“Yes, Madame,” he says, formally, nothing like Mr. Brown. He’s a proper butler, I’d wager. The young man allows me in and leads me through the foyer. God, it looks the same, only shinier, somehow. Only different.
On the way to the sitting room, Mrs. Minthy meets us in the hall, duster in hand. She stops with a little gasp at the sight of me.
“Why, Miss Corliss!” She reaches over and smiles as she pats my arm fondly. “I’m so happy to see you! We weren’t sure if you’d be back.”
“We?” I ask, even happier to see her than I thought I’d be.
“Well, Mister Orrin said you might not be.”
At the mention of his name, my heart flutters.
“Can you bring me to him?” I glance to the butler. “If that’s alright?”
Mrs. Minthy tells him, in a friendly way, “This here is a good friend. I’ll take care of her. Thank you, Joe.”
He bobs his head and his Adam’s apple moves in unison. He grins at us both. Something in his smile is familiar, though I can’t quite place it. He adds, agreeably, “Of course, Mrs. Minthy.”
She gestures at me to follow her, tucking the duster under one arm. “He’s out back, having a walk through the grounds. I’ll take you to him straightaway.”
“How have you been? How has he been since I left?” I whisper as we walk.
Her eyes widen. “Well, we were a bit surprised not to see you back with us, when he returned, all chilled to the bone and wetter than a drowned cat! And bleeding, no less! I had to sew his face shut myself.”
“Ah.” I wince, remembering the dagger down his face. He wouldn’t have been able to hide his injuries from her, being human again. And he wouldn’t have the magic to heal it, either.
“Since then, we’ve not seen hide nor hair of Mr. Brown, though Mister Orrin didn’t say exactly where that man ran off to, only that he wouldn’t be back.
I take it he was probably dismissed, or maybe he just left for a life elsewhere,” she muses, and then says, almost to herself, “I never cared for him much, but it’s odd without him here. I hope he found something better.”
My throat clenches and I nod, thinking of Mr. Brown’s white hair, his piercing eyes, his crooked smile. That lingering scent of cream puffs under the furniture polish and smoke. We’d liked disliking each other. “I hope so too.”
“You know Joe?” She knocks her head backwards, leaning in to whisper, “They say he’s Mr. Brown’s grandson.”
“No!” I answer, delighted to hear it. I knew something about him was familiar! Those icy eyes should have been obvious.