The Moon Master's Ball (9 page)

Tilly choked. “The Moon Master from
Bromley’s Circus?” Her eyes opened wide.

“The very same, love.” Caroline nodded.

Tilly shook her head. “What is this
about?”

“It’s about my wife.”

Tilly and Caroline both turned to see Lord
Hollingberry at the base of the stairs, the Dorian Rat perched on
his shoulder.

Tilly’s lips parted in another question, but
Lord Hollingberry held up his hand, stopping her. “My wife,” he
said, his eyes misty in the firelight, “was fairy godmother to a
boy named Jasper.”

“But there’s no such—” Tilly began.

Caroline interrupted her. “Don’t say that!”
she huffed, looking like a plump cat that had missed dinner time.
“Magic is very real, and the sooner you start believing in it, the
wiser you’ll be.”

“Years ago I accepted a boy—an orphan like
you—named Jasper to be my ward.” The old man spoke to the floor. “I
met his godmother and fell in love. But our happy life together
didn’t last as long as we had hoped. Jasper was cursed, and my dear
wife gave her life in one final attempt to save him.”

Lord Hollingberry slowly approached, dabbing
at his eyes. “Since Aminia died, unable to save her godson, by the
laws of magic I am not allowed to visit him.”

Realization dawned brightly upon Tilly. “The
Moon Master is Jasper?”

“Yes, my dear. You probably wouldn’t
remember him; you were only a child when he was cursed. But every
curse has a way to be broken. Jasper has one night when he can have
the chance to be free by finding someone to save him. And after all
these years of waiting, he has chosen tonight to be that night.” He
reached out a hand and clutched Tilly’s shoulder. “If he isn’t
freed, he will belong to Mrs. Carlisle . . . and that poor boy
doesn’t deserve such a fate.”

Pressure bubbled up inside Tilly’s chest.
What did they expect
her
to do? Hadn’t she done enough
already? She shrugged off Lord Hollingberry’s grasp, got up
quickly, and walked towards the fire, avoiding his penetrating
gaze. “What do you want of me? I must go to the ball? And do what,
exactly?” she asked bitterly.

The Dorian Rat leaped off Lord
Hollingberry’s shoulder, landing heavily on the ground. It scuttled
close to Tilly’s feet, causing her to back away. Reaching out a
paw, it tugged at her skirt as though asking her to listen to what
it had to say.

“Get away!” Tilly pulled her dress away from
its claws. “I’ve had enough of you!”

Flattening its ears against its head, the
rat ran into the shadows and hid itself there.

“What?” Tilly rubbed her nose with the
sleeve of her dress, glaring at Lord Hollingberry and Caroline, who
were staring at her. “I’m sick of secrets and darkness. I want to
have a normal life!” Tears of frustration welled up in her eyes. “I
just . . .”

Tilly dropped her forehead into the palm of
her hand and sneaked a sideways look at the beautiful dress. She
thought of the Moon Master’s wintry eyes, eyes which had seen so
much more sorrow than she had. She thought of the way he held
himself, so powerful and yet so beaten down. She thought of poor
Aminia, and of the woman’s devoted husband who was trying so hard
to save the young man he couldn’t even speak to. And she thought of
Caroline . . .

What exactly was Caroline’s part in
this?

With a little gasp, Tilly spun about to face
the innkeeper. Even though she had guessed the answer already, she
asked, “Who are you?”

Caroline’s brow crinkled. “Didn’t I say?”
She squinted her eyes and thought. “S’pose I didn’t. Well, dear,”
she smiled brightly, “I’m your fairy godmother.”

The Moon Master sat shrouded in the cold
darkness of his cursed wagon. If the night had been normal, he
would have candles lit.

If the night had been normal, he would have
been listening to Scatter’s latest news about the Circus: whether
there had been any accidents, if Indigo Bromley was in a foul mood,
or if the clown’s dreadful act had improved at all. The Moon Master
glanced at the little corner to his right where a peacock necktie,
somewhat shredded, had been arranged into a cozy nest. An emerald
pin lay discarded beside it, Scatter having found no use for
it.

The little mouse would never sleep there
again.

Dark thoughts flitted across the Moon
Master’s mind, for the recent visits of Tilly Higgins had stirred
troubling memories. He idly rubbed one of his ribbons between his
fingers. His jaw clenched as he thought over his life of ten years
ago. He and Aminia and Lord Hollingberry had all been so happy.

Then, on his fifteenth birthday, Mrs.
Carlisle had gone hunting for him.

He squeezed his eyes shut as though he could
somehow shut out further recollections. But he couldn’t. Visions of
Aminia leading Mrs. Carlisle away from Winslow and sacrificing
herself for her beloved godson played out in his mind. Her death
had been in vain, however. Mrs. Carlisle had cursed him regardless
of Aminia’s death. His long fingers clenched the ribbon
angrily.

At least Mrs. Carlisle knew nothing of Lord
Hollingberry’s relationship to him.

And the girl . . .

Perhaps there was hope after all. His brow
furrowed when he thought of the danger she was in. Surely Lord
Hollingberry would keep her safe.

But no matter how much he reassured himself,
he couldn’t suppress the feeling of dread growing in his chest. He
stood, slowly, and drew a shaky breath.

The Moon Master must prepare for the
ball.

Once again Tilly found herself unable to
refuse Lord Hollingberry’s wishes. As he had said, there
was
something greater taking place, and it was up to Tilly to free the
Moon Master from Mrs. Carlisle.

How she was supposed to accomplish this was
beyond her reckoning. Jasper had been held captive for many years
under a curse that allowed him to leave his wagon for only one
night to find a girl brave enough to save him.

Otherwise, he would be Mrs. Carlisle’s
forever.

Tilly hated vagueness, and Caroline and Lord
Hollingberry were nothing
but
vague. Now, alone in the cozy
basement, she paced the floor, pulled at the collar of her dress,
and fretted. Lord Hollingberry had left for Winslow Manor after
saying he had unfinished business to address, and Caroline was
bustling about upstairs.

The fire popped unexpectedly, causing Tilly
to jerk and peer cautiously at the shadows where she had last seen
the Dorian Rat. It hadn’t reappeared since she told it to leave,
and Tilly felt a little sorry for speaking harshly to it.

Someone began creaking down the stairs,
halting her guilty feelings about the rat. To her relief, it was
Caroline. “Hollingberry is outside, waiting for your grand
appearance.” Grinning, Caroline walked over to the ballgown and
held out her hand to her goddaughter. “For you,” she said.

Tilly looked at the two ribbons in
Caroline’s hand and accepted them gently. “How did you know about
them?”

“I didn’t,” she replied. “Hollingberry did.
He knew Jasper would give them to the girl he believed could save
him. Thank goodness Mrs. Carlisle didn’t get a hold of them!”

Tilly rubbed the ribbons between her
fingers, admiring the shining stones. “They’re more than just
ribbons, aren’t they?” she asked, her voice soft.

“Yes,” Caroline grunted as she fumbled with
the buttons on the gown. “They were Aminia’s last gift to him. Get
out of that dreadful thing you have on.” She gestured to her
goddaughter’s dress.

With a clap of Caroline’s plump hands, a tub
overflowing with bubbles appeared before the fireplace. Tilly
suddenly realized how grimy she felt. A minute later she was
basking in a magical bath of the most perfect temperature. Her back
and arms had ached since her imprisonment in Mrs. Carlisle’s
basement, but now all pain slipped away as her fairy godmother
rubbed a light, sweet-smelling ointment into her hair then rinsed
it out. Tilly’s scalp tingled delightfully.

“Caroline,” Tilly began drowsily, the smell
of apples lulling her to sleep. “How did things go so terribly
wrong with Aminia and Jasper?”

Conjuring a white lace robe from mid-air,
Caroline handed it to Tilly and returned to the gown, admiring her
own handiwork. “Amina was teaching Jasper the ways of magic in a
land far beyond Winslow.” She recounted the tale with a frown.
“During their travels, they met another fairy godmother, Mrs.
Carlisle, and her goddaughter.”

Tilly listened intently, not wishing to
interrupt her godmother’s story.

“Jasper never was a handsome sort of fellow,
but he always has possessed a certain charm that makes him
appealing.” She glanced towards Tilly. “Drosselyn found him
very
much to her liking, the spoiled little milksop. Jasper,
in turn, liked her very little.”

Caroline paused to pull a stray thread off
the dress. “You can imagine how this angered Mrs. Carlisle. Her
magic was so powerful that Jasper and Aminia fled, taking refuge
here in this obscure little village and . . . Mrs. Carlisle
pursued. You know the rest. He’s been cursed these past ten years.
When Mrs. Carlisle and her goddaughter returned to Winslow, we knew
the time had come.”

Tilly suddenly realized that she didn’t feel
anymore as though Caroline and Lord Hollingberry were forcing her
into helping them. She truly wanted to help them, not because of
Lord Hollingberry’s kindness, but because it was simply the right
thing to do. Jasper had suffered and so had she. They were the same
in many ways, she thought.

But there was one question still lingering
in the back of Tilly’s mind. “Why did Lord Hollingberry invite Mrs.
Carlisle into Winslow Manor?”

Caroline grinned triumphantly. “Ah! We
tricked Mrs. Carlisle quite well, Hollingberry and I. She never
knew that Aminia was married. And she never suspected any
connection between Lord Hollingberry and Jasper. We’ve been able to
keep a close eye on that Carlisle woman since she came back!” The
fairy godmother sniffed, quite delighted with her own cleverness.
“Come now,” she said. “We’ve got to get you ready for the
ball.”

Minutes later, Tilly was wearing a gown more
beautiful than she could ever have imagined. She couldn’t help but
twirl, watching the silken folds of cream and lavender fan out like
the petals of a rimed tulip.

“Slow down, girl!” Caroline sounded annoyed,
but the smile on her lips said otherwise. Tilly’s godmother pinned
up her hair in soft curls, adding sprigs of dried lilac throughout.
When the girl, who in recent years had worn only a maid’s uniform,
looked at herself in the mirror, her heart thrilled with
delight.

“You look stunning, my love,” said Caroline.
For the first time, Tilly saw tears shining in her fairy
godmother’s eyes. “But we’re not done yet!” Caroline wiped the
tears away quickly and told Tilly to sit on the settee. “Where are
those ribbons?” she looked around the room.

Tilly held them out to her, and the old
woman snatched them away. “We’d best get you to that ball quickly!
Midnight will come before too long.” She draped the shining ribbons
across her goddaughter’s feet.

“What happens at midnight?” Tilly asked,
once again confused.

“Hush, I’m thinking.” Caroline tapped her
chin with one finger. “Oh, how does that old rhyme go? Ah, yes.”
Rubbing her hands together, she cleared her throat and closed her
eyes.

“
Light, show yourself pure and
strong,

Save a man from evil’s throng.

Take a form, small and white,

Give this girl the strength to fight.”

When Caroline had uttered the last word,
something happened to Tilly’s feet. She felt a coldness slide
across each foot up to her ankle, but it wasn’t an unpleasant
feeling. It reminded Tilly of slipping her feet into a cool set of
sheets before bedtime. She looked down to see what exactly was
happening and saw a pair of shining crystal slippers adorning her
feet. The violet ribbons laced through tiny holes in the slippers
and tied into delicate bows at her ankles. They made Tilly feel
even more beautiful, and she touched the crystal gently.