Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Mrs. Quent and the House on Durrow Street

Reading, reading. Waiting for Harlequin to arrive in the mail.
Excerpt from the sequel, The House on Durrow Street :

Then they found themselves on the edge of the glade, and once again they stepped forward, into a new painting.

This one was darker, with lanterns reflecting off onyx water and the graceful arches of stone bridges.  A narrow gondola glided by as candles floated all around.  Ivy had seen pictures of such a place before.  It was one of the canal cities on the coast of the Principalities, where people went not by carriage but by boat on the various waterways that served for streets.

Another glass of wine was given to them, this time by a servant in a grotesque but delightful mask with a beaked nose and decorated with feathers.  They had hardly finished it before they were swept into another scene, and another, each as beautiful as the last.  They walked upon the parapets of a ruined castle, marveled beneath the golden dome of a Murghese temple, and strolled through a field of poppies.

All at once, the poppies gave way to parquet floor, the clouds to chandeliers, and they were once again in Invarel, in a ballroom with grand windows that looked out over the lights of the New Quarter.  However, this was in no way less fantastical than the scenes through which they had wandered, for Ivy realized those had been only prelude - a means to delight and heighten the senses in preparation for what lay ahead.