SNAP: The World Unfolds

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

What was I going to do?  I was thousands of miles from home, in a country that didn’t speak English, with no idea where I was, no money, no friends.  Sure, I could pack up and do a grand exit, but I opened my door and the demon on guard looked at me quizzically.

“Do you need something?”

“No, no thank you,” I pulled the door closed.  It wouldn’t be much of a grand exit if I couldn’t get beyond my bedroom door.  Running home wasn’t an option. I didn’t think having Jean-Louis was an option either, so I settled for huddling in the chair wrapped in a blanket.  Too bad I was too old for my old stuffed elephant.

The fire was dying and the logs sighed as they settled into ashes.  I closed my eyes and tried to clear my mind when I heard a soft rustling.  Where was the sound coming from?  It got louder, with no direction.  It was like birds.  A bunch of birds.  A flock of birds flying around and around.  No birdsong, just the rustling, rustling wings, around and around.  Getting louder, getting faster.  Was it coming from the windows, from the chimney?  Were the birds in the room?

A pattering noise, like the beginning of a spring rain.  No, it was bird’s feet, knocking against the windows and pattering across the sill.  I tried to put my hands over my ears but my arms wouldn’t obey.  When I lifted my right arm, it flailed around, waving circles in the air until I bolted awake.  There was a tapping sound at the door and I ran for it, jerking it open and barreling into Pen, who was standing in the hall with the demon guard.

“We must have waked you,” she had a faint smile.

“I didn’t realize that I fell asleep,” I frowned.  “I was having an awful dream.  I dreamt there was a flock of birds flying around the room.”

The guard started.  He tore into my room and raced for the window, speaking rapid Hungarian into his communicator.  He ripped back the curtains and suddenly the outside was lit up like noon, I heard running feet and lots of what sounded like orders. Then just as suddenly, the light went out.

Pen had stayed in the hall and when the demon came back they had a rushed conversation in Hungarian before he turned to me.

“I’m sorry ma’am, the Huszars sent a scouting party over to look for any chinks in our security.  They managed to fly in over the roofs and evade the movement sensors.  You must have heard them probing the windows.”

“May I come in?  I think the furor is over for tonight.”  Pen walked through the door. “Carola told me that you had some questions.”

This was the first time I’d been alone and up close with Pen and her beauty was astounding.  Her skin was almost translucent and where most of the others glimmered, she glowed.  She had dark eyes and sleek dark hair worn in a chignon, accented with a diamond clip.  She had changed after dinner and was now in a filmy white number designed in the Empire style.  She could have sat for a David portrait. When she realized I was gaping she nodded. “Yes, I did sit for Jacques-Louis David.  My portrait isn’t like Madame Recamier’s and it’s not in a museum.  Stefan still has it.  He indulges me.  I’ve been painted by several people, even Matisse.  All the sittings have been private and the artists were so well-paid that they never spoke of it.”

She was casually talking about artists I had only seen briefly in exhibitions.  I finally got my jaw off the floor and working.

 “I do have questions.  I’m not even sure what I want to know, though.”  We took chairs in front of the fire, now stoked by the guard.  “I get so confused when I have these dreams.”