Part 34 (1/2)

I can stay.

”I suppose we ought to bow,” she whispered to Ariel with barely contained triumph. ”You can put me down now, and get your hand off my b.u.t.t!”

He grinned and pointed at the Stage Manager. ”Curtain call!”

Mrs. Edith and Ophelia entered to take their places on one side of Bertie, and Ariel stood on the other. The fairies fluttered forward to cling to her hair as the lights tightened on Center Stage, blinding Bertie as she bowed. Beyond the cheering crowd, the Exit sign beckoned.

The curtains crashed into each other, signaling the end to How Bertie Came to the Theater. Heavy red velvet m.u.f.fled the sounds of the audience filing out, though Bertie caught snippets of ”How unusual!” and ”Delightful! We should renew our subscription.”

When the low murmur of conversation finally faded, the Theater Manager spoke, almost to himself. ”You'd remembered almost all of it.”

”That's why you wanted me to leave, isn't it?” Bertie said. ”It didn't have anything to do with the cannon-”

”It had everything to do with the cannon!” he fired back. ”Everything to do with the changes you wrought here. It's only by chance that the Theatre yet stands. . . .”

”The pages are back in The Book,” Bertie said. All but two. ”I repaired it and saved the Theatre when you couldn't. I fulfilled the obligations of my contract: a sold-out show concluded with a standing ovation. And I discovered that I am more than a foundling child, or even a Director.” Bertie reached for Ophelia's hand. ”I am her daughter.”

”My ward,” Mrs. Edith said.

”Our friend,” said the fairies.

”My benefactress,” Ariel said with a wry quirk to his lips.

”And the Writer of Words,” Bertie finished. ”I have a place here, whether you like it or not. Mrs. Edith named me for the other Beatrice, and I will be put upon by no one, not even you.”

”Have your way, then,” the Theater Manager said, his voice hoa.r.s.e. ”Next time, you might not be so lucky. Next time, the building may well crumble about our ears.”

Bertie shook her head. ”The audience might have been content with the play, but it's only a draft. A work in progress. A character's still missing from my story.”

”Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow.” Ophelia's hand trembled in hers. ”Would that I could remember his name for you!”

Bertie turned and kissed her mother on the cheek, vowing to remember the delicate scent of her: pink carnations and water-blooming flowers, ice-fed streams and the iron-tang of strength under her wistful vulnerability. Bertie whispered, so that only Ophelia might hear. ”I will find him, for the both of us, and bring him back.”

There was more than one man to find, though. This damsel will rescue the pirate in distress.

Peaseblossom yanked hard upon one of Bertie's diamond earrings. ”You can't be serious! You're not going to leave!”

”Yes, I am. I have to.” Bertie turned to the Theater Manager. ”I will go the way I came: with the caravan, with companions.h.i.+p. You will not gainsay me these things.”

”Not if you actually agree to go,” he said. ”It's a meager price to pay for the safety of the Theatre.”

”Spoken by someone who doesn't understand the value of loyalty, or friends.h.i.+p.” Bertie turned to Ariel. ”The Bard's words should remain in the Theatre. Give me your page from The Tempest.” Ariel hesitated, but Bertie didn't flinch under the intense scrutiny that could have burned a hole right through her. ”This way, no one shall be able to call you back. Trust in me.”

His promise and hers; now they'd both said it, and together the words were like the wind. He slid his hand inside his silk s.h.i.+rt and pulled out his page, grimacing as though its removal tore his flesh.

She took it from him with steady fingers and turned to the Theater Manager. ”A pen, sir?”

Without saying a word, he took a fountain pen from his pocket and handed it to her.

Bertie spared only a glance for the man who had worn the thickest mask of all, before she called out, ”Open the curtains.”

Red velvet parted to reveal the empty auditorium. Bertie crossed to The Book, held Ariel's page up to the light, and whispered his opening speech.

Ariel's body spasmed as he was recaptured.

”Just a moment. It will only take a few words, I promise.” With a shaking hand, Bertie turned to the back of The Book. At the top of a blank sheet, she wrote: Following Her Stars: In Which Beatrice (& Company) Take Their Act On The Road She paused, long enough for a blot of ink to appear.

Enter BERTIE, ARIEL, PEASEBLOSSOM, COBWEB, MOTH,.

and MUSTARDSEED.

”It's my turn to walk the ragged edge.” Holding her breath because she couldn't cross her fingers, Bertie ripped the page out.

The Exit sign in the back of the auditorium flickered, died, then blazed brighter than ever before.

”I think The Book will be safer in my Office.” The Theater Manager pushed past Bertie to remove it from the pedestal.

”I think you might be right about that,” she said with a sidelong look at Ariel.

The Theater Manager made his exit without a backward glance. Ophelia and Mrs. Edith rushed to embrace Bertie one last time.

”Promise you'll be careful,” Ophelia said, touching a gentle finger to Bertie's cheek.

”That's like asking the tide never to come in,” Mrs. Edith said with a suspicious. .h.i.tch in her voice.

”You two will have each other while I'm gone,” Bertie said, joining their hands together.