Our Mother the Mountain

47. A Winter Masquerade

"LEAVE this place, leave my sacred land," came the sharp-tongued voice from behind the golden mask. Ethan was so spellbound by her words that he almost forgot to hold the intruder by the scruff of his shirt; he wrenched the man's neck in his hand when he remembered. But he still stole a glance at her, standing there in the forest by the bonfire. She looked regal in all black, the silver trim and golden headpiece catching the firelight. From behind the mask, her blue eyes sparkled dangerously. "Or else I happily drink your blood, and feed your corpses to my boars." A hand, with metal cuffs on all her fingers-sharp spikes of metal lace-gestured to her right.

From nearby, squeals sounded from the pen, grunts and other animalistic noises carrying across the night air to the clearing where Ethan and several others stood. They were present and happy to carry out the grunt work of roughing up the trespassers. Men sent from the Connections-there were four-who were either hyperventilating or staring stonily ahead.

"Now, choose my sacrifice. The Black God demands it." Her command was a lively hiss.

Ethan nodded, from behind his mask, to Emil, whose mask was disturbing by firelight-it was a wolf's head, the tongue lolling out to the side. This head nod was Ethan's signal that he didn't care who died- he was letting Emil choose. Just as two of the men began begging for mercy, the foreman stomped to the clear 'leader' of the group and whacked his head off with a machete.

One clean stroke, but blood sprayed over everyone. She laughed, holding out her hands eagerly for it, and Ethan wiped at his sleeve. But abruptly, he had to clamp down on the shoulders of the tied man he stood over-panic and chaos ensued after the beheading.

There was just enough time for Ethan and the others to slice the ropes and allow the men to flee, while 'Miranda' cackled uproariously for several minutes.

When their sounds had ceased, and the forest was mostly quiet, Ethan stepped up to her, nearly tripping over the headless carcass at his feet. "You're getting a little too good at that," he grumbled, and she pulled off the mask. Eva smirked, but she looked surprised at his comment. "Too much? Too...theatrical, preachy? Give me feedback."

"Just creepy," he scoffed.

"That's the point."

"Where to next?"

"Party."

—---------------

The castle was open, bright, shining. Torches were everywhere along the path, and the Hall of the Four was being used for its original purpose-it was transformed into a well-decorated and full ballroom, complete with a corner stage for the chamber musicians. Ethan slunk through the masked crowd with a curled lip; he hated dancing. Absolutely not. He struggled to see the connected hallway that would get him to the parlor. The room was lit by candelabras, and he was still wearing the mask. It must have been a masquerade. That's right. A masquerade. Yes, this all made sense.

He passed by someone in a fish mask who was kissing an unmasked woman passionately. Ethan stared, disturbed, and snaked past the gross couple to finally enter the far emptier hallway. After several paces toward Alcina's Main Hall, he caught himself in a mirror and did a double-take. Eva, still in her Miranda garb, strolled up toward him looking pleased with herself.

He stared, nonplussed, at his own golden mask. "Uh, why am I a RABBIT?"

She giggled. "What's wrong with rabbits?"

"I want to look like a badass."

"Ethan, you are a badass, but you've never really looked like one."