Pierrot's Song

Chapter 5 - Twists and Turns-3

Her final words were spoken so low he only just caught them. ‘No. She’s my competition.’

~

They weren’t gone long. The door eased open and Isabella peeked in. She held up a key.

‘Come with me.’

Mina followed her into the hallway, then looked around in confusion. ‘Where’s Jal?’

‘I sent him to the meeting. What I’m going to show you is secret, so he can’t know about it.’

A loud bang from one of the nearby rooms startled them both. Isabella grabbed Mina’s hand and dragged her down the hallway.

‘Can’t be seen,’ she said over her shoulder, pulling Mina down a narrow spiral staircase. At the bottom, a great frieze covered one wall, depicting a silver palace etched on black. Still rushing, Isabella drew Mina to a small door set into the wall and pulled her through into a large room with a nine-sided table.

‘This is where the Council of Muses meets,’ she said, drawing Mina around past the table to an alcove with an ancient Harlequin costume on display.

Mina took a step back and pulled her hand out of Isabella’s grasp. ‘Are you sure this is the right place?’

Isabella nodded impatiently. ‘There are secret chambers through here. I don’t know what’s behind every door, but I think what you need will be here.’

She reached in past the Harlequin suit and released something. With a click, the panel at the back of the alcove disappeared. ‘You go first,’ she offered.

Mina moved into the alcove, instinctively avoiding the ancient costume, which sent chills up her spine. As she was about to step through, a thought occurred to her and she turned back.

‘You said you sent Jal to the meeting. But that can’t be right. He wouldn’t go. He’s wanted for stealing his father’s statue and entering the Council of Muses’ hidden chambers. What have you …’

Isabella’s face erupted in a wide smile as she stepped forward to block Mina from leaving the alcove.

‘You nearly ruined everything,’ Isabella hissed. ‘We were going to become the Royal Players until you ran away. It was my chance to be a star, and you nearly destroyed it. Although, I’m glad things worked out this way. All the attention would have been on you and your stupid narrating if you’d stuck around. But now I’m where I belong, with the greatest troupe, at the palace. And you are going where you belong.’

Mina stared at her. ‘Why are you doing this? You’re my friend. You taught me about the players, warned me about Ciro … I thought you were on my side.’

Isabella laughed, a low chuckle very unlike her usual tinkle. ‘Funny you mention Ciro. You never made him pay for what he tried to do to you. I would have. But then, that’s the difference between us.’

‘Between you and me?’

‘Yes … and between me and him. You see, Ciro does bad things, but he doesn’t believe he’s bad. When he was young and handsome, people accepted his behaviour, because beautiful people are forgiven a lot of things. So, in his mind he’s a great seducer, a lover from the tales. But when he got old that same behaviour became creepy. Made him a predator. He didn’t see it that way though—until you pointed it out to him. Me, I’m under no delusions. I’ve always known exactly what I am.’

‘And what’s that?’

‘Someone who puts herself first.’

With a quick movement she shoved Mina backward. The last thing Mina saw was Isabella reaching for a mechanism in the wall, then the alcove slid closed and Mina was alone in blackness. Her breath caught as she absorbed Isabella’s betrayal. Shock threatened to overwhelm her, but there were more immediate concerns. She reached out, hands searching the wall for whatever catch would open the alcove again. A chill passed down her spine and she froze.

‘Mina D’Aniello,’ a deep voice intoned from behind her, ‘you are summoned to a session of the Council of Muses.’

Mina spun round as the speaker made a movement and light filled the corridor. She found herself facing three people. Two were dressed in the tabards of palace guards. The third wore a cloak of dark wool with a deep hood that hid their features entirely. One of the guards held a lantern aloft, the candle within flickering, his hand still on the little hatch he must have opened to reveal the light. With the flick of a white hand, the hooded figure gestured toward Mina, then turned and started down the corridor. The other guard moved in close and tied Mina’s hands behind her back, then shoved her to make her follow.

Seeing the corridor, with its arched doorways and air of secrecy, Mina recognised where she was. When Jal had arrived in Andon he had recounted how he had observed the Council of Muses breaking the gold thread of a dancer from the Festival of Lights. This terrible act had occurred in a secret chamber hidden behind the Council’s official meeting room, down a dark corridor. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh at the irony, that until recently she had planned to face the Council in exactly this way, or to curse that she hadn’t realised where Isabella had brought her.

Her musings were waylaid by the sight of double doors at the end of the hallway. Together they formed an arch, and iron cobwebs twisted across both, an echo of the great gates of the city. For the first time, it occurred to her to wonder why this motif appeared where it did. Was it simply a question of symmetry and beauty? Spiderwebs had those, but they were also traps for the unwary.

The cloaked figure in front of her broke the web by pushing the door open, leading her into a room dominated by a large, semi-circular table. Seven people sat behind its arc, each wearing a woollen cloak to conceal their identity. As the figure who had greeted her took their place, the combined colours of the cloaks formed a dark, ominous rainbow. At the apex of the arc, one chair remained empty. From what Mina remembered at the Festival of Lights, the missing person was the one who represented the Creator, since there was no one here with a multi-coloured cloak. In front of the empty space rested a black marble dish shaped like a wide, shallow chalice.

One of the two guards pushed Mina into a kneeling position at the centre of the room, then both left, closing the door behind them. Mina straightened her shoulders and looked at the seated figures defiantly. Behind her back she moved her hands, working out the tightness of her bonds.

‘What do you want from me?’

She leaned forward a little to move one leg into a kneeling position so she could stand. No one moved to stop her. Though it was awkward with her hands behind her, she managed to pull herself upright.

‘Don’t think of leaving,’ one of the watchers said. ‘The guards are barring the door. We should begin.’

‘We are one too few.’

Mina wasn’t sure if it was an effect of the cloaks, or of the room, but she could not tell who spoke.

‘We should begin anyway. There are enough of us to proceed.’

One of the figures leaned forward, hands on the table, shaking their head.

‘You know it is he who fulfils the sentence. If it comes to that, we cannot do it without him. Are any of you able to do what he does?’

Murmurs filled the room as they all shook their heads. One of the Council looked around at the others, then stood. From the voice, the speaker was a woman.

‘Surely it is time we ask whether we should be doing what he does? Do none of you see the changes that have fallen on our noble city? We have always been proud to be the birthplace of so much great art. In all Litonya there is nowhere that supports so many artists. Sculpture and music and dance flourish here. And what are we doing now? We are stripping it all away.’

A new voice joined the debate, his interjection harsh.

‘Not all art holds the same value. Some is puerile, or even dangerous. Some challenges all that is good and worthy in this world. It has always been our role to dig out the rot. Arcani threatens us all!’

‘Why?’ Mina asked quietly, and every cloaked head turned toward her. Silence descended heavily as the cloaked figures faced her impassively. The moment stretched out. Mina held her hands still so they wouldn’t hear the efforts she had just been making to escape the rope that bound her. When no one answered, Mina opened her mouth to speak again, but one of the Council, a new voice, cut her off.

‘We wouldn’t even be debating this if he were here.’

The speaker who had raised the changes in the city spoke again.

‘Which is why I raise it now, while he’s not. Think! There is fear among our artisans. How can they create when they fear for their safety? What are we doing?’

‘What must be done,’ her opponent of earlier responded, his voice like a hatchet. ‘Enough of this. We can vote without him.’

‘I will abstain,’ the woman Council member replied, resuming her seat.

Hatchet-voice nodded, then stood. ‘Mina D’Aniello, you are accused of practising Arcani during the Festival of Lights. This was witnessed by all who were present at the competition, so we have no need to call for witnesses.’

‘It wasn’t Arcani,’ Mina cried.

Hatchet-voice turned and made a gesture to one of the figures at the end of the table, who went to the door behind Mina and summoned a guard with a few words, before returning to their seat. The guard took his place behind Mina, seizing her hair with one hand and placing the other over her mouth.

Her body froze, seized by fear, then she bucked and tried to free herself from the fierce grip. The man holding her grunted but held firm. Hatchet-voice cut across their struggle. ‘Enough! You do not get a say in this. We, the Council, have all the evidence we need.’

Mina shook her head vigorously, which dislodged the guard’s hand enough for her to bite him. He pulled his hand away, then swung it back swiftly and clouted the side of her head. She fell sideways, landing on her hands, and felt the rope give. She looked up at Hatchet-voice, her eyes burning with anger.

‘You don’t know what I’ve done. How can you accuse me of something so wrong when I have worked so hard to fix something you should have stopped long ago?’

The guard loomed over her again, reaching for her. She met his eyes and held them.

‘You have no right to touch me,’ Mina said, calling her inner warrior from her imagination as she rose to her feet. She sensed Tarya within reach as she pictured her hair ablaze and her eyes glowing red. Whatever the guard saw, it was enough to make him turn and flee the room, slamming the door behind him. She spun back to the table.

‘I have all the evidence I need too.’ Her voice rang with the resonance and power she used onstage. ‘You were witnessed breaking the golden thread of an artisan for a so-called act of Arcani.’

A gasp ran through the seated Council members, followed by a panic of twittering. Someone muttered something about a statue. Mina drew breath, ready to speak again, but before she could, Hatchet-voice cut her off.

‘It is not for you to question our decisions or processes. We are here to make judgement on your case. Time to vote, councillors.’

‘But you made the Gazini Troupe the Royal Troupe. You must have thought what we did was good.’

‘Not all of us were in favour of that decision, but the king and queen tend to sway the vote in their direction. They do not understand the complexities of Tarya. The Council does. We have reviewed your acts and now we will make our ruling.’

He reached for the black marble chalice and passed it to his right. With obvious reluctance each seated figure reached out and dropped something into the cup-like bowl. They slid it along to the other end of the table, where the others added their votes. As the chalice was pushed back to the centre, Mina shuffled forward to investigate it. At the same time, Hatchet-voice reached for it and tipped its contents onto the table.

Four blue stones and four red stones rolled across the table. A babble of argument erupted from the cloaked figures.

‘We shouldn’t have voted with only eight.’

‘It was clearly Arcani. Anyone could see …’

‘It wasn’t! It was an illusion.’

‘Look at her, defiant, powerful. We need to stop her.’

‘What do we do now?’

Mina watched them grow more and more passionate until she realised they were so focused on making their points, they were not watching her. Slowly, to avoid drawing their attention, she took a step back toward the door, then another. The pitch of the argument rose even higher. She reached back and her fingers brushed the door handle. At the same time the rope binding her came undone and slid to the floor. Mina kept her hands behind her so the Council wouldn’t see she was free. She was slightly too far away to grab the handle, so she slid backward, then reached once more. Under her grasp the handle twisted. She didn’t have time to step away as the door swung open and slammed into her shoulder.

Silence fell as the missing Council member, cloaked in the darkened rainbow of the Creator representative, strode into the room. He paced over to the table and examined the spilled stones.

‘You have voted.’

Various affirmations came in reply.

‘A draw. It would seem there is some uncertainty about this girl’s abilities.’

‘This girl,’ Mina said, rubbing her shoulder, ‘has no uncertainty the Council of Muses are committing terrible acts. I was told your role is to set rules and arbitrate disputes. To make sure no one does the wrong thing. How do you justify your abuse of the gifts of Tarya? How can you possibly believe breaking the golden threads of artisans is not the wrong thing? I was going to come to you for help!’

The Creator figure stared at her, though with his face shrouded by his hood she could not be sure he was even looking at her, then turned away and took the vacant seat behind the table. Watching her again, he reached under the table, then brought his hand out and across the table. Something was clenched in his fist. Inside his hood, his head tilted a little, then he released his fingers and a blood-red stone dropped to the table.

‘Arcani,’ came a whisper.