Tangled Webs

balance as she wandered through the spooky house with Rainier at her side. Despite Jaenelle’s skills as a Healer, he was still walking with a noticeable limp and needed the cane that had been a gift from Daemon.
    He was lucky he was walking at all. Jaenelle had told her the Eyrien Warlord’s war blade had cut halfway through the bone as well as severing the muscles in Rainier’s leg. But he was healing, and she was glad he’d felt well enough to come with her to see this spooky house.
    Jaenelle and Marian had created a house that was humor with a bite, scary with a wink. And some things were hauntingly lovely, like that voice in the upstairs hallway.
    She saw the other illusions Tersa had added—and after watching eyes open up in the grapes, she was very glad she’d avoided those in the other spooky house.
    In a way, this house poked fun at landens and Blood alike. And while some of it gave her a jolt—like that damn voice on the staircase—it really wasn’t…
    Sylvia rushed up to them, looking wild-eyed and horrified.
    “They think we live like this?” she said. “Landens really think we live like this ?”
    All right. Maybe it was scary for some people. Just not for the expected reasons.
    Rainier turned his back to deal with a sudden fit of coughing.
    Sylvia turned in a circle, and in the course of that turn changed from wild-eyed woman to flame-eyed mother. “Where is Mikal? Hell’s fire, if that boy has tried to make off with one of those giggling spiders, I will kill him flatter than dead.”
    Surreal watched the Queen of Halaway plow through a knot of stunned landens.
    «They don’t know if she’s part of the entertainment or a real mother,» Rainier said.
    «Kill him flatter than dead?» Surreal said. «What does that mean?»
    «No idea. But said in that tone of voice, it sure sounds impressive. And I think the landen mothers are committing that phrase to memory.»
    Surreal snorted.
    They had seen most of the spooky house. Since they were family, they hadn’t been required to follow a ghostly guide—and hadn’t been herded back into a group by the shadow Scelties. It had been amusing to watch the other guests view the surprises, and she’d been entertained by watching rowdy landen boys come face-to-face with Lucivar. Even more amusing was watching the adolescent girls watch Daemon as he glided through the house. Unlike Lucivar, who had dealt with the boys by threatening to rip off all their poking little fingers and shove those fingers down their throats, Daemon had put a fading spell over a sight shield, so he simply faded away as he walked down a hallway, leaving all those girls wondering if he was real or illusion.
    “So,” Rainier said. “We’ve seen the woman in the cobwebs and the giggling spiders. We’ve heard the snarl in the cellar and—”
    “The damn laughing staircase.” She’d almost wet herself when she stepped on a stair and that voice rolled up from beneath her feet.
    Rainier grinned but wisely said nothing. “And the eyes in the attic.”
    They had skipped the bathroom with the popping beetles. Thank the Darkness.
    “That’s the only room left to view.”
    They approached the door as a group of landens, led by their ghostly guide, also came to that part of the tour.
    “This is the scariest room in the house,” the ghost said.
    The ghost stepped aside. The door opened without a creak or a squeak.
    Surreal and Rainier entered the room and stood to one side. They would be able to stay and view the “surprise” in the room as many times as they wanted, so it seemed fair to let the “guests” have the better view.
    «Any ideas?» Rainier asked.
    She shook her head.
    A beautifully decorated sitting room. Something she would expect in an aristo town house in Amdarh—or any of the sitting rooms at SaDiablo Hall.
    Seconds passed. Nothing happened.
    Then she heard the music. Faint at first, but growing stronger. And with the music, the dancers slowly formed out of mist until they became almost solid, almost real.
    Jaenelle and Daemon, dancing. Just watching them, she could feel the heat of their love, could see their happiness at being together.
    “Please tell me that gown is an illusion,” Rainier whispered. “Jaenelle doesn’t really own something like that, does she?”
    “I’d heard she had to make the gown in the illusion more opaque,” Surreal teased. “The real thing is even more sheer. But it’s only to be worn for very private