Chapter Seventeen
Brick left her close to the City Hall, and Henrietta walked the last block on her own.
She was no stranger to walking around the city in a costume these days. Still, she couldn't help but note the glances she got from passers-by.
They looked flabbergasted, and if they were men, they blushed too.
Eventually Henrietta made it to City Hall, and then she walked up the steps, her heels clicking against the stone. Several people were standing around, milling about before they went into the party, and every single one of them turned to watch her.
She recognized some of them. One or two were friends of Marcia’s, a couple were politicians, and one woman Henrietta could swear was the anchor for the local news. They all stared at her, gob smacked.
She felt like opening her fan, bringing it up to her face, and quickly blushing behind it. Instead she crested the steps and walked into City Hall.
It was a large building and had three floors. The main ball, or the ball for the plebs as Marcia had put it, was to be held on the bottom floor. The special guests who had been invited by Mr Hellier himself or who had paid a bucket load for tickets, would be able to mingle on the second floor. The third floor, as far as Henrietta knew, would not be used tonight.
Henrietta had tried to buy a ticket for the special function with Mr Hellier, but unfortunately they were sold out. She'd found out about the ball late, after all, and according to Marcia, the special tickets had sold like hotcakes. Even one of Brick's warrior monk brethren hadn’t been able to secure her a ticket. But according to Brick, that wouldn’t be a problem. All Henrietta had to do was stick around downstairs until she got enough attention. Then, surely, she would be invited to the second floor to meet Hellier.
Henrietta had several misgivings about that plan, mostly because it sounded like it was out of a storybook. Real princesses, in fairy tales, might get away with turning up to the ball without a ticket and just sitting in the corner looking pretty until the Prince noticed them. But that probably wasn't going to work here. Or at least Henrietta hoped it wouldn't. Because if it didn’t, then she would never have to stare at Hellier again, note his expression, see the interest and power widening his eyes....
Henrietta shook her head quickly as that thought crossed through her mind. Then she brought out her ticket and handed it to the man standing just inside the large doors that led into City Hall.
He kept looking at her as she handed him the ticket, and it seemed to take a great deal of effort on his behalf to tear his gaze off her outfit and onto the piece of paper in his hand. Eventually he mumbled an “okay," and gestured to the hall with an arm.
Henrietta mumbled a “thank you," then walked away.
Though the ball was not meant to start for another 40 minutes, the place was already packed. Unlike the guests on the steps outside, everyone here had already put their masks on. Still, Henrietta didn't have too much trouble recognizing people. She saw a woman Marcia worked with, and then she saw the Fire Chief, then she even saw the old lady that lived down the street and kept trying to get Henrietta to go to bingo.
While Henrietta recognized them, it didn't appear that anyone recognized her. No one came up and asked how Marcia was, and neither did they ask how Henrietta's parents were. They looked at her with wide, astounded expressions, but that was it. And as she walked past, they would always turn to talk amongst themselves in hushed whispers.
It suddenly dawned on her when she had walked all the way into the hall that she would likely be doing a lot of waiting tonight. Standing up in these heels, no doubt leaning against the wall like the world's most overdressed wallflower, and waiting, and waiting. But fortunately considering she had transformed, and she was technically a witch hunter under this disguise, she felt stronger, and she was a great deal steadier in her shoes. Still, it was going to be boring.
Or at least Henrietta thought it would be.
Usually when she went to parties she would quickly find herself pushed into the kitchen, or out onto the porch, or anywhere that was away from everybody else. More often than not, people would get bored of her conversation and run off to find her sister.
Today it was different. Today, Henrietta felt swamped.
First it was the waiter who offered her a drink and then hung about at her side telling her how fantastic her outfit was. Then one of Jimmy’s friends she recognized as Rodriguez, came up to her and complimented her on her hairpiece. Then it was the guy from the video store who grabbed another drink and offered it to her, despite the fact she had hardly touched her first one.
Henrietta had men all around her, and she could hardly move for compliments.
At one point, however, she did see briefly through the gap between the several fireman and bank managers who were standing just to her left, and she caught a glimpse of a very familiar face.
Brick. And on his arm was Marcia. She was hanging off Brick, leaning into him, depositing her bosom on his arm, and fixing him with the most seductive looks.
Brick hardly glanced at her. He did look at Henrietta though, and he offered her a quick nod.
It made Henrietta shudder with nerves.
Brick had assured her that if his plan did not succeed, and she was not mysteriously tapped on the shoulder and invited to join everyone else on the second floor, then he and his warrior monk brethren would intervene. Henrietta didn't know what that would entail, and she hoped that they would fail.
She kept glancing up to the ceiling above her, imagining who was up there, and, more importantly, him. The Witch King.
When the ball officially started at 6:45, it was to the sound of a town crier ringing a bell. The noise shifted through Henrietta and gave her the most flighty and sudden feeling. She clutched at her fan and had to fight the desire to write the word flee.
Something was going to happen tonight, her instincts screamed at her, and no matter how much she tried to push them away, they wouldn't be pushed.
It wasn't until 7:05 that anything happened. Just as John Farley, a renowned architect, asked for her number, Henrietta got a tap on the shoulder. She practically stumbled over from surprise, her heart threatening to stop right in her chest. She was that tense, that overcome.
When she turned, it was not to meet Hellier's gaze. Rather it was to meet the gaze of the aptly named Spanner.
He was dressed in a black suit and had a badge that red security. He winked at her knowingly and shifted his head towards the ceiling. “If you will accompany me, madam, there is somebody who would like to meet you.”
Henrietta followed Spanner as he led the way through the crowd. She clutched at her skirts so they didn't get caught up in her heels.
She clutched harder and harder the closer they neared the stairs, and as they finally climbed them, her hands began to shake.
At the top of the stairs were several security guards, standing with their hands held in front of them, their eyes darting around the room and over the stairs, no doubt looking for hopeful stragglers who wanted to race up to the second floor uninvited.
They didn't stop Spanner and Henrietta, but moved to the side as they neared.
Spanner led her down the hall, and paused just outside of the function room. He turned to her. “It was almost impossible to get you in, I had to pose as a security guard,” he noted conspiratorially, patting down on his jacket as he did. “But it has worked; you are here finally.”
Henrietta looked at the closed doors in front of her. They were large, and even though doors usually didn't bother her, she suddenly got the impression they were like the gates to Hell.
She clutched at her stomach now, flattening her hands over the tight fabric of her bodice.
“You mean, nobody is expecting me? I don't have a real invite?”
Spanner shook his head. “Hopefully no one will notice. I've got you this far, and I doubt the people in there know who is on the invite list. There are only guests inside; we security guards are expected to stop anyo
ne else from entering.”
She nodded. “Okay,” she said in a light and shaky voice.
Then she couldn't hide from it any longer, because Spanner opened the door, and Henrietta Gosling walked into the function room.
Brick and Marcia had managed to get tickets to the special function, or at least Marcia had. Marcia had pulled strings that only she could pull, and had bought herself tickets after they had all been sold out. When Henrietta had begged her sister to try and grab another ticket, Marcia hadn't bothered. After all, why would Henrietta go to a ball, and why on earth would she want to pay the extra money to go upstairs to mingle with the city's finest? Henrietta had no business doing anything with the city's finest apart from serving them coffee.
Yet Henrietta was now here, walking carefully into the room, trying to make herself as invisible as possible. She wanted to clutch at her fan and write the word invisible, just to see what would happen.
But in her current outfit there would be no way that Henrietta could pass unnoticed.
She walked past Frank Apple, one of the city's richest investors, and the man stopped talking to the Mayor, just to ogle Henrietta's way. The same pattern was repeated the further she walked into the room. Though she held onto her fan as tightly as she could, and tried to walk as quietly as her heels would let her, it wouldn't work; people turned her way and they stared.
So of course it didn't take long for her to come to his attention, not long at all.
Henrietta had come to a rest on the other side of the room, next to the large and ornate windows that stared out onto the city. She had turned her back from the party, taking a much-needed moment to calm herself as she stared at the view.
That was when a hand rested slightly on her shoulder, and a voice puffed past her ear. “Do I know you?”
She turned on her heel. It was him. Witch King Hellier.
He was close to her, too close for personal space, and he took a moment to straighten up as he stepped back. He never took his eyes off her, and they continued to sparkle, that look of interest burning within.
Henrietta was frozen, and it took him to repeat his question before she stuttered out a “no."
“I must admit, I do not recognize you,” he mumbled as he looked at her dress and mask. “I don't suppose it would be untoward to ask you to let me in on your secret?”
Her breath froze in her chest, and her eyes widened so far she must have looked like a deer in the headlights. “What do you mean?” her voice was a mumble, and it was so quiet that Hellier had to shift forward to pick it up.
“Lift your mask,” he nodded at it, “I know it is not customary at a masquerade to ask anyone, let alone a lady, to reveal their identity, but you intrigue me.” He didn't blink as he looked at her, intensifying that deep flicker of interest in his eyes.
Henrietta shook her head.
He gave a chuckle. “Of course, how rude of me. We are at a masquerade and it is customary to keep one's mask on for the entire night. Perhaps after you will reveal your identity to me.”
Her gut twisted, and she clutched onto her fan until it felt like she would break it. “Why... why aren’t you wearing a mask?” She kept stumbling over her words.
He alone, apart from the security guards, was walking around in full view with nothing to hide his identity. He had his suit on, with no jacket and no tie, and there wasn't a mask in sight.
He smiled. “Because I don't have to hide from anyone.”
It sounded as if Hellier was hinting at something more. If he knew that Henrietta was a witch hunter, then telling her he had no one to hide from would be a bold and pointed statement. But he couldn't know, could he? She was just flustered, fearful, she was just making things up. There was no way Hellier could see through her disguise; Brick had assured her so many times that would be impossible.
But as the fear built within her, Henrietta felt suddenly unsteady on her heels, and she stumbled slightly to the side.
Immediately Hellier brought up a hand and latched it over her arm to steady her.
His grip was cold, his fingers icy as they pressed into her flesh, and yet, just as his hand lingered, it began to heat up.
She pulled herself free, mumbling a “thank you."
Pull yourself together, pull yourself together, she begged herself over and over again. You are a warrior woman, act like one.
Henrietta rubbed her thumb and fingers over her fan, and then she forced herself to look at him. “I hear you are running for mayor?”
“Now who told you that? I have not formally announced my desire for candidacy yet.” Hellier brought up a hand and ran it over his lips and chin.
He still looked intrigued, he still looked powerfully interested, and it still sent all kinds of tingles through Henrietta's middle.
“I thought everyone knew?” she added hastily.
When Brick and Spanner had told her, they hadn't bothered to mention that Hellier hadn’t announced his running yet. The fact seemed kind of important now.
“I see, perhaps I am not as good at keeping a secret as you are.” He stopped running his hand over his chin and let it rest gently at his side. He was still standing close to her, and Henrietta shifted her weight back until she was leaning away from him.
“Sorry?” A shot of nerves passed through her heart, making it speed up with a burst.
He couldn't know, could he?
“Your mask.” He tapped at his face. “You still haven't taken it off, and though I am exceedingly good at recognizing faces, I must admit, I have no idea who you are.”
Henrietta instinctively furled her fan and brought it up to her face. It was a very strange thing to do, but she couldn't stop herself from trying to hide behind it. In any other situation, it might have seemed coquettish, had her eyes not been pressed open with fear and surprise.
Hellier chuckled again. “You look flushed, why don't we walk out onto the patio?” He gestured to the opened doors that led out onto the long patio that wrapped around the second floor of the building. “The night air will cool you down.”
No, I really don't want to go out there with him. Henrietta told herself. But you have to, she added. Because you have to find out as much about him as you can. Tonight will be wasted if you don't find out what he is up to and figure out a way to throw a spanner in his works, well, not Spanner himself, but anything that will disrupt Hellier's plans.
So even though a part of Henrietta screamed at her not to follow him onto the patio, she did it anyway.
The night air was cool, but that didn't stop the heat that rose through her.
Hellier led her out to the patio, then he leaned down along the long, carved-stone railing, turning towards the view for a moment before he turned back to her.
Henrietta had never been more thankful for her disguise. And more than anything, it was the mask, protecting her eyebrows from view and stunting the emotional range of her expressions. Because if she wasn't wearing it, then Hellier would be able to see just how frightened she was.
“Are you cool now?” he asked as he tapped his hand directly on the railing.
She brought up her fan and began to wave it at her face. She wasn't trying to look alluring, she was just trying to remind herself that in her hand was her magical wand, and if anything went wrong, she could write a spell and be done with this man.
“Why are you running for mayor?” she asked as she kept fanning her face.
Hellier cracked into a smile, and it was a slow move. “I suppose I shouldn't tell you, because I haven't even made my candidacy public yet, but you seem like the kind of girl who can hold a secret.”
There he went again, talking about secrets. As he said the word, he narrowed his eyes, even flicked his gaze over her face.
He knows. Henrietta thought to herself as she fanned her face harder and harder.
“I feel that I have a lot of skills that I could lend to the city,” Hellier began to answer. “I have several organizational and structural ideas that I t
hink the city planners would benefit from.”
“Such as?”
“Ah, I trust that if I tell you, you won't turn around and let the press know?”
Henrietta nodded, keeping her fan in front of her face as she took a hard swallow.
“Very well, I have plans for the subway system. Our current infrastructure is inefficient, and if we opened up tunnels underneath North Square and continued out into the outer city, we could alleviate peak hour traffic. And I assume I do not need to tell you that peak hour traffic is responsible for 10% of this city's carbon emissions. We are too reliant on cars, and in this day and age, that is a sin.”
He looked like he was serious. From his expression, to his countenance, to the way he said his words, there was no indication that underneath was a sodding Witch King whose only desire was to control and ultimately overcome humanity.
“Subway?”
Hellier nodded. “They have already begun work on extending a tunnel under North Square, and I must admit, I was the one who put forward the suggestion to the current Mayor. However, I believe that if I were elected to that role, there are many more projects I could achieve, and so much more I could do with this city.”
Henrietta was now fanning faster and faster, and if she kept going, her wrist would probably seize up. But she couldn't help it; he had mentioned the subway, and more than that, he'd mentioned the construction work going on at North Square. Brick was almost certain that there was a witch den underneath that area.
Could that be Hellier’s plan? If he were elected to mayor, would he sink the city's budget into expanding the subway, but ultimately expanding the lair of his own witch coven too?
Before Henrietta could ask any more questions, Hellier nodded back to the room. “Have you cooled down yet?”
“I guess.”
“Then, my dear,” he held out his arm, “we should return to the masquerade.”
She really, really didn't want to touch him, so she just brought down her fan, nodded at him politely, and walked through the door on her own.
His eyes sparkled as she passed him.
When they returned to the party, it was to a sight Henrietta had never seen outside of movies: a proper ballroom dance.
The band had started up, and the men and women of the city were all waltzing around with their masks on.
Don't do it, god, don't do it, she suddenly thought to herself. Because her battle instinct suddenly shouted in her ear that Mr Hellier was about to do one thing. Ask her to dance.
Henrietta had never been asked to dance; she was the permanent wallflower, after all. She really didn't want her first time to be with a bloody Witch King.
He leaned in, tapped her on the shoulder, and nodded towards the dance floor. “Care to dance?”
No, bloody no, she wanted to scream at him, but before she could, he reached down and grabbed up her hands.
Though she wanted to yank her hands free, she didn't want to make a scene, so somehow she found herself being pulled towards the center of the dance floor.
He held up one of her hands and brought his other hand around and rested it on her hip.
The move made her shiver.
She’d never forget that shiver.
They began to dance.
Except Henrietta had never danced in her life. She had two left feet. She tripped over blades of grass, for god sakes. So to her, dancing seemed like an impossibility.
Except today she was dancing. Or maybe he was dancing and she was following. But the point was, Henrietta was whirling and twisting around on the floor, completely and utterly unlike herself. Maybe it was the fact she was really a witch hunter underneath, and maybe the magic that kept her walking on her ridiculous heels also managed to make her dance.
He held her hand tightly, but the fingers that rested on her waist did so with a light touch.
It really felt like a scene from a movie. As they danced over the floor, the both of them agile and quick, all Henrietta could think was that she belonged in a book or fairytale. Where the ordinary girl would suddenly turn into a princess, and then find herself doing a fantastic waltz with the Prince at the ball, even though she had never taken a dancing lesson in her life.
And, just like in the movies, people began to step back, giving them more room, even standing to the side to watch them.
As they did, Hellier began to dance faster. He now twisted Henrietta around, her skirt flying out in a twist, then he pulled her back in, dipped her, and kept moving across the floor with such grace and speed that at one point he even drew a round of applause.
Through it all, no matter how hard the maneuver looked, Hellier always kept his attention focused on her, that same slight smile on his lips.
Henrietta had never seen a smile like that, and it did all kinds of things to her stomach, things she really didn't want to admit to. Because Hellier was the Witch King.
It was close to when the song was about to finish, just after Hellier had turned her around, and just as he was moving in for a last dip, that he brought his face alongside hers and whispered something in her ear.
Just two words.
"Witch Hunter."
Henrietta lost her balance as the fear rushed through her. Her heels slipped against the floor, sending her tumbling over.
Her dress whirled around her, one of her shoes half slipped off her foot, and her hair came loose, bunching over her shoulder in a mess.
There was a general gasp from the audience.
Hellier leaned down to offer her a hand, but he didn't get there first.
No, someone darted out from the audience, offered her their arm, and had her on her feet in an instant.
Brick.
He had an alarmed look on his face, and quickly shifted to glance at Hellier.
Henrietta brought a hand up to her head, pushing the hair that had escaped from her bun across her shoulders, and trying to steady herself on Brick’s arm.
Brick surreptitiously covered his hand over his mouth. With his teeth still clenched and his lips hardly parting, he whispered a single word.
Run.
Even more fear shot through her, and once again she threatened to slip on her heels and tumble down to the floor.
But Brick strengthened her.
Then he repeated the word again.
Everyone was watching them, every single person in the room had turned their way.
Hellier was standing several steps away from Henrietta, and had his head held to the side, a curious look on his face as he surveyed Brick.
“Thank you,” Hellier said quickly. “Are you all right, my dear?”
She scrunched up her nose at his words. Brick just tightened his grip on her hand.
She had to run.
She had to flee.
Henrietta brought her hands around until she clasped them behind her back, then she held onto her fan with all her might. In the slightest of movements, she wrote the word “flee” with the tip of her silk fan.
There was a rustle of fabric from her skirt, as if a slight wind had just caught up around her heels. If there was any light, it was completely hidden by the folds of her fabric. But that did not stop the sensation.
Moments after she finished casting the spell, Henrietta's feet were suddenly seized with a frantic energy, the kind of feeling that told her she could run and run and run.
She took a careful step backwards, but it was jerked and quick.
“I need to go to the bathroom... to freshen up,” she added. She turned from Hellier.
She ran out of the room.
Not too fast, not with the speed of a sprinter, but fast enough that she got out of there within seconds.
Then Henrietta ran through the corridor, she ignored the security at one end, dashed right past them, down the stairs, through the rest of the party, and finally out of the front doors of City Hall.
She sped down the steps and shot through the streets at a frantic pace.
Henrietta Gosling fled.
>
Every second as she ran, a single thought occupied her mind. The exact expression on Hellier's face as he’d mumbled those two words in her ear. Witch Hunter.