Chapter 33 #2
She’s not wrong. After our trip to town, the stubborn beast took a liking to her.
I’d take credit for smoothing their introduction, but I suspect the steady stream of crabapples she’s been bribing him with has more to do with it.
He might listen to me, but I can’t be in the pivotal scene.
Queen Taynia and Head Huntsman Beron will be onstage for the casting of love potions, along with all the kids plus a mule I have to make look like a white stallion.
Too many moving parts, and the illusions have to be perfect.
“I’ll recruit Daria to help you,” I tell Johannes. “Just keep Tahto moving.”
He nods with the wide-eyed fear of someone sent into battle with a tea tray and a butter knife.
Dropping the curtain around us and focusing on the illusions that set the stage for our opening scene, I take in the audience.
Helpers from the inn have been passing around the dreaming tea, and the audience buzzes with anticipation.
As cups are lifted and tea is sipped, magic settles through their bodies and minds.
The shimmer of enchantment drapes over the square like a veil of fog and starlight.
This is what I love about theatre. It’s the ability to transport the audience through sights and sounds and their own imaginations, allowing them to follow wherever we lead them, to fantastical worlds and fanciful times.
The Valerian tea opens them more to my illusions and the emotions we’re about to portray, so they experience it all viscerally.
This production must truly bring them all into a shared experience.
When the murmurs fall to enchanted breaths, we’re ready to begin.
With a clatter of hoofbeats, the opening scene unfolds. Slowly, one scene at a time, we lure our audience in. Romance, the love of parents and children, the support of friendships—we show them love in every messy, glorious form, and we have them right where we want them.
Right on cue, Aili guides Queen Taynia and Beron onstage, welcoming them into the immersive performance with her first line. “Behold the Fairy Queen, the fairest of them all.”
Her steps don’t falter. Her face shows no fear despite her recent ordeal. She’s all poise and pageantry, like Val rehearsed with her. I’ve never been prouder. The line even brings a haughty smile to the Ice Queen’s lips.
The early scenes go smoothly. There’s banter, awkward declarations of love, friendships torn asunder, star-crossed romance complete with heartbreak and longing. The crowd laughs and swoons in all the right places. Love is in the air, hanging from the stars.
Then it’s time.
Katja flutters forward with the vials—glittering, glowing, ready. “Our fairest queen, our king of shadows, won’t thou help these lovers find their ever after?” she begins.
The next line about getting Demetri to return Lena’s love is the cue, but…no Demetri or Lena.
Mikael and Johannes don’t appear.
Behind my illusion of draped curtains, I spot the problem. Daria’s pulling Tahto’s lead with everything she’s got, but Tahto has his hooves dug in.
No, wait…he's fallen asleep.
Spotting Helkki offstage, I send a whispered illusion of my voice right to her ear. “Hellion.”
Her head jerks up. She locks eyes with me.
With a quick prayer to the Deep, I mouth the one word guaranteed to spark joy in that little chaos-gremlin’s heart.
“Fireball.”
She grins. Then skips in place like she’s winding herself up.
She aims, then—blam! A bright burst of flame erupts, but instead of landing at the mule’s feet, it slams into one of the tin festival lanterns strung above the stage. The lantern crashes to the ground, spraying sparks and igniting into a crackling mini-inferno.
A few spectators near the edge of the audience catch the flicker of fire through my illusions and shout in alarm. Mikael is already sprinting toward it. I have to trust him to handle the flames, because we’ve got bigger problems.
The fire woke up Tahto, all right.
With a startled bray, the mule jerks the lead from Daria’s hands.
Onstage, Katja lifts her arms dramatically, announcing, “A drop upon his eyes, and the next thing he looks upon, he shall pursue with the soul of love. Take these vials, and toss the juice upon Demetri and Lena, that their love might bloom from its sweet nectar. And if you need a demonstration, toss them thus!”
Tahto explodes onto the scene.
I barely react fast enough to cast his illusion as he lunges through the image of solid curtains.
The audience gasps as a gleaming white stallion bursts forth, hooves flailing, eyes wild.
Daria—whom I hastily glamor to resemble a scullery maid—gives chase in a flurry of skirts and undignified muttering.
Katja’s wings beat fast as she leaps out of the way. Her hands fling wide…
The potions go flying.
The one meant for the queen catches her square between the eyes…only she’s no longer looking at Beron. She’s too busy watching the incoming horse.
Beron raises his arms to prevent being trampled. Tahto, spooked by the hiss of fire being doused backstage, careens into Daria, sending her tumbling backward…right into the path of the second potion. It splashes her full in the face.
With a squawk, she topples directly into Beron’s outstretched arms, sputtering wildly.
Chaos explodes like a cork popped from a too-full jug of faerie wine.
The potion meant for Beron drips from Daria’s face as she gazes up at him, eyes wide, lips parted.
“Oh,” she breathes, hands fluttering over her chest. “You…you’re magnificent.”
Beron startles. “Pardon?”
“I’ve never known such a glorious male as you. Never have my eyes feasted on such beauty! Oh, how I hunger for you.” Daria strains her face toward his, trying for a kiss and only failing because Beron drops her like a live beehive.
Across the clearing, Queen Taynia is still blinking through potion-glazed eyes. Her expression is pure rapture as she approaches Tahto with reverence.
“My noble steed,” she coos, stroking his long face. “Such power. Such posture. Such soulful eyes. Have you ever been in love, darling beast? Because I am.”
She pulls an apple from her cloak pocket and offers it like a treasured jewel. Tahto accepts it with a snort and a crunch.
Onstage, Katja tries valiantly to redirect, voice strained. “My lady, the love potion was meant for Demetri, not the livestock!”
Mikael and Johannes finally make their entrance looking singed and confused. Johannes sneezes, then tries to recover by tossing his lopsided wig over one shoulder and looking prim.
“Who has absconded with my noble steed?” he ad-libs, pitching his voice high.
Daria clambers up Beron’s chest to stroke his face. “I’ll ride you like a noble steed,” she croons.
He holds her at arm’s length as she makes kissing faces at him. I groan.
Mikael shrugs, completely at a loss, while Hellion rushes out to toss another random fireball in the air, delivering one of Aili’s lines “Tis but a dream, fair ones!”
The script is out the window.
I can’t keep up with adjusting all the illusions on the fly.
We’re firmly in the land of madness.
Beron peels Daria off of him long enough to leap off the stage and storm toward me. “What did you do?”
“That wasn’t supposed to happen!”
The kids are running amok on stage. Daria’s avoiding a fireball and hurdling a pile of costumes, hearts in her eyes, as she aims for the stairs to follow Beron.
The queen is at Tahto’s side, one hand on his mane, the other stroking his nose, whispering words like “magnificent” and “enchanting” as she feeds him apples like he’s royalty.
“None of this was supposed to happen.”
“Fix it! Now!” Beron growls.
I follow him toward the queen, letting my illusions drop. I have bigger problems than a confused audience. “They’re just love-at-first-sight potions. They’ll wear off by morning. I’ll deal with the mule, just…take Queen Taynia somewhere to sleep it off.”
Beron places a hand on Taynia’s elbow to guide her away, but before I can grab Tahto’s lead, the mule snorts, spraying apple chunks all over Beron. And oh, how he glowers.
Sweet waters, I’m about to taste the Head Huntsman’s axe blade. Maybe I can grab Tahto and make a break for it.
But before I can move, the queen laughs.
Loud…bright…startling laughter. It’s so sharp and clear, it’s like the world stops to listen.
Beron freezes. “That laugh.” His hand finds my arm, stopping me. His voice turns wistful. “She used to laugh like that all the time. She hasn’t laughed that way since the king died. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.”
I’m trapped in his nostalgia, barely daring to breathe.
Then Daria rounds the set, breathless and determined.
Beron bolts up like a hunted jackrabbit, shouting, “You’d better drowning well fix this, Lark!” as he takes off, pursued by a remarkably fast silver-haired innkeeper.
He’s gone, and I’m left with a stage full of chaos, my illusions in tatters, my troupe improvising nonsense, and the Ice Queen beside me feeding love apples to a confused mule.
All in all…I’d say that went well.