The Art of Disappearing, Ivy Pochoda [best android ereader TXT] 📗

floor. The shadows of the dancers dipped and wove in between the oriental flowers painted on the tent’s exterior. The Christophs passed through the crowd, swinging censers filled with rosemary. One of them wore a crown of ivy and the other, holly. The rest of the revelers—satyrs, Roman courtiers, jesters, Elizabethan ladies, unfamiliar pagan deities—filled the tent. Olivia and I stepped inside. The Eastern European music stopped, and the dancers were clearing the floor, making way for a string quartet in Louis XIV costumes. Their faces were powdered as were their wigs.

“Finnish,” the Belgian Christoph said, tapping me on the shoulder. “Apparently, back home, they even own a reindeer.”

“Have you seen Leo?” Olivia asked the Christophs.

“The house,” one of them replied. “More light.”

“There will never be enough candles. Come, Leo will be so happy to see you,” the other Christoph said.

Before heading toward the villa, Olivia and I helped ourselves to cups of warm, spiced wine. I could feel the alcohol bring a glow to my cheeks. She noticed and put her hands to my face. “That’s better. Your face wasn’t just pale. It was empty of color.”

I finished my wine as we wove through the party and up the stone staircase that led to the terrace at the back of the villa. Boughs of holly, ivy, and other evergreens hung from each lintel and transom, as well as framing every window.

We found Leo in the kitchen stooped over a tray of candles floating in tiny finger bowls. He was dressed in a midnight blue velvet suit embroidered with the rings of Saturn. The gold embroidery was caught by the candlelight.

His face lit up when he saw me. “Aah,” he exclaimed, “I knew you wouldn’t be far behind.”

“Behind what?” I let Leo embrace me.

He released me and held me by the shoulders at arm’s length. “Behind your husband.” Then Leo narrowed his eyes to mine. “You didn’t know.”

I shook my head.

I felt Toby before I saw him—an angular shadow in the back of the room. I turned. The magician stood in the doorway, framed by candlelight. He was smiling.

“Toby.”

In an instant, he crossed the room and wrapped me in his arms. “You didn’t think I would come,” he whispered in my ear.

I pressed my head into his chest.

“Thank you for having me,” Toby said to Leo.

“We haven’t had magic here in years. But before anything we need more light. The party lasts until the last light—candle, fire, coal, whatever—burns out.” He put a finger to his lips. “But be careful not to extinguish any yourselves. That is bad luck. It summons the dark too soon. Please?” He handed us each a lighter and pointed to a side table laden with pillar candles.

Toby waved his hand over the candles, lighting them all at once. Their flames rose upward in shades of green and blue, bringing the stars and planets embroidered on Leo’s coat to life. Leo ran his fingers over his sleeve. “Saturn for my saturnalia,” he said, then took us each by the arm. “Let us head into the night. But first, a toast.” He pulled three small glasses off a nearby shelf and filled them with a thick brown liquid. “Sailor’s drink. Wards off the dark, cold night.”

We lifted the glasses.

“To everlasting life and everlasting bacchanalia.” With these words, he vanished.

Toby and I stood alone in the kitchen.

“I didn’t think you were coming. Ever,” I said.

“I don’t like being left behind.”

“You saved her.” I took Toby’s hands in mine.

The magician nodded. “But only in that world.”

“I know,” I said. “But we were strangers. That was the price.”

“We met again.” A smiled played across Toby’s lips. “You were pretty good on that bull.”

I laughed. “And you were handy with the ladies.”

“But there was only one lady I was interested in. And she left.”

I nodded.

“I told you I’d see you on the other side of that screen. I had no idea how far away that was.” Toby kissed away a tear. He refilled our glasses from Leo’s bottle.

“Do you remember now how things are supposed to be?”

“I’m not sure things are supposed to be one way or the other. But when you stepped into the screen and vanished, I knew I’d have to see you again.” Toby linked his fingers through mine and squeezed tight. “I reached out to pull you back, but you’d already gone. And when my fingers missed yours, that’s when I remembered.” He knocked back his drink. “Not just that we’d met before, but everything. It made finding you easy.” Now Toby looked into his glass. “I didn’t wait long to follow you. The guests at the party in Las Vegas were starting to whisper. They’d seen you go into the screen and not come out. It was like Eva all over again. I felt dizzy. I was in two places at once. I had two overlapping memories of you and of Las Vegas.”

I smiled, remembering my own seasickness as my Las Vegas experiences collided on top of the Stratosphere. “Now you know what it is like to be inside one of your own tricks.”

“I had to escape.”

“Into the screen?”

“I can’t imagine what they are saying back at the party.” Toby said. “The magician who made himself disappear.”

I lifted my glass to my lips and wondered if it wasn’t just me Toby was reaching out to in that screen, but also the ability to step into his imagination. I wondered how long it would be before he longed to go save Greta again. And with his customary conversational misdirection, Toby said, “Falling in love with you again was fun.” He lifted me in his arms. “Shall we join the party?”

Before I could reply, he kissed me and carried me out into the crowd.

We found one of the Christophs in the middle of the lawn.

“You remember Toby.”

Christoph’s face lit up. “The magician. At last,” he beamed, bowing slightly as he shook Toby’s hand. “Would you like to be holly or ivy?” He extended his arms, one of which