A distant shout awoke me from what would have been a very pleasant dream. Early-morning sunlight glittered on the dew-drenched grass. Just beyond a nearby clump of trees, somebody was coming. I panicked and leapt to my feet, and the moment I did, a white-hot pain shot through my arm. An arrow protruded from a tree, and a trickle of blood fell from where it had grazed my arm. The voices drew nearer;
"Cyprian! You hunt like a goblin! Can't you see that your arrow has hit a maiden!"
Two young men emerged from the woods. One of them was a young, bearded elf with corn-coloured hair. His companion was my brother, Cyprian. The blonde bearded elf burst into the clearing and cheerfully exclaimed,
"Hey there! Oh….how rude of me not to introduce myself…ahem….I am Claudius, the intrepid," with a proud flick of his head, he continued; "Allow me to apologize for my friend's clumsiness. The poor fool must have mistaken you for a deer! Are you hurt?" He examined my wounded arm, but I pulled away.
Cyprian strutted into the clearing, saying, "My dear Claudius, you have frightened the poor thing!" He turned to me, but his smile faded when he saw my face. "Eva….?" He said, hardly daring to believe his eyes. I nodded. "Claudius, you owl pellet, that's my sister!" he shouted. Claudius raised his hands above his head and backed away.
It was noon by the time we reached the caravan, and by then Cyprian and Claudius had heard my entire story. I had made them promise not to tell anybody, so Claudius told everyone that a bear had chased me all the way to the river and I had lost my way home.
Maria had told me that Anastasia had been unwell; while I was gone she had hardly eaten, and at night she was troubled by strange dreams which she refused to describe. I immediately went to find her.
She sat in her covered wagon, which thankfully had not been damaged by the fire. The air was thick with incense. "Welcome back, Evangeline," was all that she said to me, "You had us worried." When I asked about her health, she said that she was fine, although she was sure she hadn't seen the last of the dreams. As I turned to leave, she said, "Evangeline….just as I thought. The dress suits you nicely." We spoke no more of that afterwards.
The sewing needle flashed in the bright summer sun, as I stitched together the carefully-cut pieces of lavender satin and silk. The gown was of my own design, similar to Anastasia's, but even more delicate and graceful. My thoughts raced excitedly; it would be finished just in time for the ball. A year had passed since my first masquerade, and the 13th full moon was fast approaching. Sarah sat beside me, gazing off into space. Recently she seemed deep in thought. She was unusually quiet, and had a habit of wandering off on her own. Worried, I had asked her if she was feeling all right, but she simply replied that she had a lot to think about. Despite this, she didn't seem at all herself.
The last stitch of the gown was made, just as the sun set and Grizak ran up to where I sat. He took one of his ground-sweeping bows and said, "Letter for miss Evangeline from his Highness the kind, requesting her attendance at….at…." he took a deep breath and squinted at the small white envelope in his hand, but he didn't need to finish his sentence; I knew what was in the envelope. "Thank you Grizak," I said, and with that he charged back into the bushes.
Within moments, Maria's curly, ginger-haired head was peeking from her wagon. She skipped daintily across the clearing and sat down beside me. "My my, Evangeline," she said, fluttering her long eyelashes, "A letter from Jareth? Oh, what does it say?" "I-I don't know," I stammered; Maria's tone was making me uncomfortable. A few of Maria's friends had gathered around. One of them, a tall, dark-haired beauty, turned to maria and said, "perhaps he sees something in HER that he doesn't see in the rest of us? Could it be her hair?" she touched my hair, and I knew that she was mocking me. "Maybe it's her smooth skin?" said another, running her finger down my cheek and making me shudder. "Why don't you open it? There's nothing he would tell you that you can't read to us!" said Maria.
"No," I said quietly. "Don't be silly, Evangeline! Show us the letter!" snarled the dark-haired girl, snatching the envelope from my hands and clawing at it, trying to get it open.
Suddenly, she shrieked as the patch of ground where she was standing vanished from beneath her feet, revealing a stone tunnel. She dropped the envelope on the ground and desperately grasped at the edge of the tunnel. It was clear why; a horrible smell was seeping out from the depths of the tunnel. At its end was the notorious Bog of Eternal Stench. The dark-haired girl screamed again for her friends to help her, but they too were afraid of falling into the bog, so they made no move to help her.
Pocketing the invitation, I slowly walked up to the tunnel and offered the girl my hand. Her eyes were wild with fear and watery from the stench. Trembling, she let go of the side with one hand and reached for mine, then clambered with some difficulty out of the hole. It vanished as if it had never been there.
The dark-haired girl stared at me in disbelief, then gave an appreciative nod and stumbled back to her friends, who backed away, then ran for the caravan as fast as their feet would carry them. I held up my finished gown to admire it in the evening light, then slowly made my way towards my wagon.
The sun rose, bright and clear on the morning of the 13th. Today was my day; not only had I sneaked off to a masquerade once before, but I was going back. I ran to show Sarah my gown, but she wasn't in her wagon. I asked the rest of the caravan, but nobody had seen her. Assuming she had gone out for an early-morning hike, as she had developed a habit of doing, I went about washing myself, brushing my hair and adjusting my mask. I noticed that Maria and her friends leapt out of the way when I passed.
In the late afternoon, I told Anastasia that I was going out hunting with Cyprian and Claudius. "Indeed," she said quietly, looking knowingly at the lavender gown folded under my arm, which I had tried unsuccessfully to hide. Sarah was still nowhere to be seen. When we were out of sight of the caravan, I left Cyprian and Claudius (who had tried to convince me to hunt with him) and changed unto my gown. I put on my mask, and placed my invitation in the light of the setting sun. It burst into flame, leaving a delicious-looking peach which I eagerly bit into. Soon everything started slipping in and out of focus, and the forest and sunset melted into dizzying swirls of colour. Then, as before, the crystal bubble appeared, carrying me to the masquerade.
Once again the ball was lavishly decorated, this time themed to resemble a forest. The columns were glistening trees whose sparkling emerald leaves formed the ceiling, and the floor was of such realistic moss that even the feet of a gypsy could scarcely tell the difference. Dancers, dressed even more flamboyantly than before, swirled around each other to a haunting melody. There, standing in the middle of the ballroom and dressed in deep emerald green, was Jareth. He seemed much happier and more himself than he had been at the last masquerade. He smiled when he saw me, a slow, beautiful smile that made my heart skip a beat. He took my hand and we began to dance.
As we waltzed, Jareth began to sing softly to the music. We whirled around the room, lost in our own world. I could feel his breath on my cheek. I felt like the finest lady at the ball, dancing with Jareth for the second time. When the song ended, a black-haired man in a long-nosed mask came and hurriedly muttered something to Jareth. He bent and kissed my hand, saying, "I hope I may dance with you again, Evangeline."
My heart was lighter than air as I wandered aimlessly through the crowd. Every day, as I hunted as his falcon for the past year, I had anticipated the day when I could dance with him again, and now, although how was beyond me, he knew my name. I loved the way he said it.
I flopped happily down against a column, and as I enjoyed my mirth, I heard Sarah's name mentioned in a conversation between two masked ladies. One was large, wearing a mint-green gown and a skeletal-looking mask. The other was the drunken auburn-haired girl.
"So she finally decided to come?" asked the auburn-haired woman. "That's only half of it," snorted the plump woman, "apparently he asked her to marry him!" "And she said yes?" asked the auburn-haired woman, looking more than slightly disappointed. The plump woman nodded.
Suddenly I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. I couldn't believe my ears. I couldn't believe Sarah, who had scorned Jareth for so long. And I couldn't believe myself. Why did I ever imagine that I was grand enough and fair enough for Jareth to love me? Who did I think I was? Biting back inevitable tears, I tore my mask from my face and threw it to the ground, then barreled into the iridescent wall of the ballroom. It shattered like thin glass. Without a backward glance I threw myself out of the ballroom and transformed
I flew over the forest, towards the labyrinth. I didn't know where I was going, but I knew I was never coming back. As I flew, I swore by my status as a gypsy, the only thing I had to my name, that I would live for the rest of my life as a falcon, never to love again. My dreams were shattered with the ballroom's wall. How could I have been so vain? I was through with being a gypsy, through with sneaking around and through with love. In my rage and sorrow, I didn't notice the wind picking up, and the ominous black clouds that hid the moon.
Rain began to fall over the Labyrinth, and thunder rolled overhead. I fought to stay aloft despite my wet feathers, but the wind was blowing me off course. The rain grew heavier, and the wild winds threw me this way and that. I wasn't afraid for my life; I didn't care. I wanted to fight the storm. With all my might I flew into the wind, my wings beating as quickly as my heart. Finally I could fight no longer, and I spiraled to the ground, having given up completely. The last thing that I saw before I lost consciousness was the slight shadow of a white owl, gliding expertly through the raging storm….