Charlotte arrived at the musical review feeling entirely out of place as she stepped from the crowd of the outer circle party and brandished her ticket for entrance. She reminded herself that her men’s boots covered the holes in her stockings and she was wearing outer clothing as grand as any of the other elite at the review. There was something of a crush in the tiny auditorium, everyone milling between the seats to make conversation with the most important people. Charlotte had to make inane chitchat a number of times to get through the press to where Valentina had already snagged the elbow of Lord Jamison.
The milliner was wearing something out of a fashion plate in deep red and black. A tiny black hat was perched to one side on her dark waves of hair, a scarlet ribbon tying the entire picture together.
“What a cunning hat, Ms. Briggston,” Charlotte said, squeezing through between a woman the size of a gorilla and a slight elderly man with a mustache like the antlers of a deer. It wouldn’t hurt to remind Valentina of their shared secret. She’d managed to make it down the aisle on the wrong side of a railing that bisected the stairs, and had to swing herself over with a completely unladylike laugh, gathering scandalized looks.
“I see that you have made the same...choice as yesterday,” Valentina said mildly. “Very bold of you.”
Charlotte touched the brim of her hat with a smirk. She had not missed Valentina’s scorn for it the night before and she had chosen it out of defiance as much as anything. It was in stark contrast to the dainty version on Valentina’s head.
Well, Charlotte didn’t have the advantage of magic and if she wanted people—Lord Jamison in particular—to notice her, she had to stand out. “What a crush,” she said merrily, sidling up to his far side. “I’m happy to see that you’ve made it here unmolested.”
“The Supernatural Authorities have assigned me a protective guard. They will be near me at all times tonight,” Lord Jamison said, waving his hand towards the robed figures standing close by behind him, looking rather irritated whenever they were bumped, which was often. “The Investigator was very prompt with his attention.”
“That is an excellent reason to stick close to you,” Valentina said approvingly, and Charlotte peeked around Lord Jamison to see that she had taken his arm and was standing very close, gazing up at him adoringly.
Ugh.
“I have my sword,” Charlotte reminded him pointedly. “Though, I had quite a job convincing the security guards that I should bring it in with me.”
“Did you offer to duel with them?” Valentina asked innocently.
Charlotte couldn’t tell if she was being droll or cutting, then decided it didn’t matter. “I promised to use it only for protection. They bound the hilt.” She gestured at the green ribbon that was tied between the hilt and the scabbard. The spell they’d cast would only break if certain conditions were met—in this case that there was danger to someone near her that required her protection.
“I am much relieved to have you near,” Lord Jamison said. “Will you be sitting close?”
“It is a great comfort to have you with us,” Valentina agreed pointedly, squashing Charlotte’s moment of triumph. Charlotte wished she had half the social agility that the milliner did.
Charlotte compared tickets with Lord Jamison and was delighted to find that they were only a few rows apart. “Where is your seat Ms. Briggston?” she asked, hoping that Travor’s illicit ticket would be the superior location.
Even pursed, Valentina’s lips looked perfectly made. “I have a balcony—”
The sound of drumming interrupted their conversation and faces swiveled towards the orchestra, surprised by the early start of the review.
The big, flat drums, however, were unmanned, sitting still on the stage in a spotlight, and the sound was rising from all around the theatre. It wasn’t drums, she realized, it was hoofbeats, and Charlotte struggled for her sword, expecting the ribbon to fall away and frustrated when it did not.
“Your sword may be useful now,” Valentia said sharply, as the crowd around them started to stir and then surge away towards the doors; the tale of Lord Jamison’s attack the night before had certainly spread, and there was a dark form taking shape on the stage by the drums.
A few women—and a few men—screamed in terror as panic began to grip the room. Charlotte was not surprised that Valentina was not one of them. The movement of the crowd turned into a genuine stream towards the doors and Charlotte started to follow it before she realized that Lord Jamison was rooted to his place, staring at the stage.
She turned back, her hands still busy trying to untie the ribbon on her sword just as Valentina took his elbow and tugged him towards the entrance. “We should go, my lord. The Supernatural Authorities can handle this.” Already, the robed guards were beginning to chant and weave their hands.
“Ghosts don’t have memories!” Lord Jamison said in reply, clutching at Valentina’s hands. “They can’t remember things!” He looked around in terror, assessing the stream of people crowding at the exits.
“That is correct,” Valentina said impatiently, trying to draw him away.
The shape on the stage was more obviously a horse, now, black as a night sky unpolluted by gaslamp light. It was taking slow steps that didn’t match the swift hoofbeats that were filling the room like thunder. The exits in the theatre were too narrow for the press and panic began to swell as people slowly recognized that their escape was blocked.
Charlotte yanked at her sword, hoping to simply tear the unruly ribbon and free the weapon, and succeeded only in pulling the knot tighter. Damn the meddling security casters!
She struggled to remember the words to the binding. Was her protection not needed? The horse had been unable to harm Lord Jamison previously—but it seemed stronger this time, more frightful.
Then Lord Jamison ducked beneath the handrail in the aisle, apparently hoping that the crowd was lighter in that direction. Valentina was pulled along with him, nearly losing her hat in the low crossing. She stumbled and almost fell, and Jamison shook her off and left her behind as the horse leapt from the stage and charged down the aisle towards them.
Charlotte cursed her sword, watching helplessly as Valentina drew back to her feet, staring fearfully at the monster bearing down on her.