“They’re noblemen and noblewomen,” Helen said. “I recognize the Retkins—they’re cousins of a friend of mine. They handle the queen’s investment funds.”
Following her eyes, I saw who she was looking at—a couple with dark brown, reddish hair cut close to their chins (both of them), the man with gold-rimmed glasses hangingon the bridge of his crooked nose, the woman playing with the many golden chains around her neck as she watched us and whispered in the man’s ear.
“I don’t recognize any of them, so I’ll believe it,” Seth said. “They seem uptight enough.”
“Stinking rich,” said Russ. “Look at them—finest velvet and silk and cotton. They’re all loaded.”
“They’re the ones who keep the Labyrinth oiled and running.”
Elida’s voice made us all jump a little and turn to where she had simply appeared at the left end of the table.
She was smiling still, and she tapped the tabletop twice. “Hands off now. Food’s coming.”
A sharp noise of metal hitting glass—hardand without breaking it—made us all turn back toward the queens once more to find the White Queen on her feet, knife tapping against the side of her crystal glass furiously until every set of eyes on the floor was on her.
“Let the Backward Banquetbegin!”
All at once, the floor groaned, and that same fist clenched in my gut, squeezing everything inside me. I held my breath as the table in front of us began to vibrate. I’d assumed that the faint circles that marked the tabletop were just random engravings, but they cracked open right before our eyes—wood panels sliding aside, shifting under and away. In front of each chair, two quarters of those circles slid open, revealing dishes that slowly rose from within. They were full of cake.
The pieces spun and clicked seamlessly back into place before we could blink, and the waiters were upon us next. They filled our glasses without asking what we wanted, and left crystal jugs all over the table with different kinds of liquid inside.
It all happened as if I were in a dream as the sun slowlyunset and the sky turned brighter, the music louder, the chatter around us livelier.
Before we knew it, we were talking, wondering how they did this and how they brought the food up here through the tables, and I was no longer having trouble breathing, but I was just so intensely curious to knowexactlyhow this whole thing worked.
It went on for a few minutes, and I even grabbed a piece of chocolate cake to try—I wasthatdistracted all of a sudden, and the sun was in my eyes, and nothing seemed all that bad just then. Nothing seemed as scary and as terrifying as I’d thought.
Until March made to stand.
I swear I thought my heart would leave my ribcage with him if he went to sit somewhere else. That’s why I reached out and grabbed his wrist before I realized it.
“Stay.” The word slipped from me suddenly, too. Couldn’t catch it if I tried.
March looked down at me, halfway standing still, then at my hand around his wrist. The grin he gave me rivaled the sun.
I let go of him and tried to compose myself, but it was too late. He could probably see the natural blush of my cheeks peeking through the makeup.
“I’ve always wanted to be treated like a dog,” March said, and the tips of my ears went red next as his shoulders shook a little with silent laughter. “Relax. I’m just grabbing some wine.” He stood up again and he only reached for the jug full of red liquid near the golden candleholder, the candles atop which had been blown out by the other Hands when the sun unset halfway. Plenty of light—and the temperatures were rising, too. The silk scarf had fallen down to my elbows, and I didn’t mind.
“Okay, everyone. Who wants to get shitfaced and seewhom we can convince to take a leap of faith…down there?” March nodded his head toward the edge of the floor, and my stomach actually flipped at the thought, even though I knew he was kidding.
The rest of the Hands cheered and held up their glasses for him to fill. I did, too. Never been much a drinker, but Jinx and I had tasted our parents’ wine a few times. It wasn’t too bad, and since I was obviouslynotgoing to be able to sneak out of here halfway through the party like I first thought, I might as well drink.
“Careful, no more than a glass each!”
Elida, who was sitting at a round table near us with a few other guests who pretended they were sitting there alone, jumped to her feet when she saw March pouring wine and came to warn us.
“Of course, of course—just one,” the others told her. She obviously wasn’t convinced, but after hanging around at the edge of the table for a moment, she had no choice but to go back to her seat, watching us all the way.
The others raised their glasses. Cheered. Drank.
I joined in, except I felt like a robot. Like I feltnothing,only went through the motions, copied what they did, and hoped to fit in.
I didn’t, though. Whatever was orwasn’tinside me wouldn’t let me.
Still, I drank.
The wine was sweeter than I expected, so much better than anything I’d drunk with Jinx. I drank a couple of sips only by the time March was done with his first glass. He was guarded, his shoulders rigid, and he continuously looked around, fidgeted in his seat but never forgot to laugh and nod at something the others said.
