Holiday
Part Fourteen

by Nightfall

"Professors Inverse and Nels Rada," the redhead in the white dress and gloves and black flying helmet and galoshes said, annoyed at the fisheye he was giving her.

"We were invited," added the taller one in the violet blouse with the oversized gold-accented tie. She reached into the pocket of her miniskort and pulled out an engraved card that went clang on the floor when the waiter, trying not to touch her gold nail polish, fumbled it.

"If I may take your outer gear," the butler said, carefully without reluctance. He took Lina's helmet, and the goggles Sylphiel had been carrying, and Sylphiel's swamp-green galoshes, and then Lina's black ones, and turned to the amphibious demon behind them.

Lina put her foot down and yiped as it came in contact with a puddle. "My shoe!"

As the butler conversed politely with the demon, Sylphiel tried to get his attention. Finally, as the other guest departed to join the part, he turned to them. "The elevator is to the rear and to the right."

"Yeah, great," Lina said, hopping wildly, "but you've got my shoe!" She pointed at her galoshes.

He looked at her feet. One of them had a neat white boot on, but the other displayed only a black-stockinged calf. "I'm terribly sorry," he said, and fished the other boot out of it's galosh. She braced on his shoulder and tugged it on, with one or two unladylike grunts that made a few of the guests turn and stare.

When the boot was finally on, Sylphiel clutched her shoulder and whispered, "Don't tell anyone, but I think I've got a run in my stocking."

"That's it, you're wolf chow," Lina said regretfully, and looked sternly at the butler. "Tell anyone about this and I fireball your... um..." She craned her neck, trying to see whether the butler had a posterior to roast.

"No, miss. The elevator is--"

"To the rear," she said airily, giving up her attempts to see his.

"And the right," Sylphiel finished with great dignity. They bowed each other away, leaving the butler attempting to hide an interested perk behind an a long-suffering expression.

"I told you not to wear the blue stockings," Lina reminded her.

"I like this pair."

"I know. You've been wearing them at every party we've gone to for the last five years."

"The students like them..."

"Well, of course they do. My taste is impeccable. My point is, they're old."

"You'll have to get me a new pair. Lina, maybe we should just go home."

"We promised Zel we'd come. No wimping out. You know, this place reminds me of that nutball, Halciform. I told you about Halciform; you remember him?"

"Oh, yes, the one with the poor little Snow White girl. Whatever happened to him?"

But she wasn't destined to be reminded. Just then, they ran up against the fancy grillwork of the elevator. "To the rear," Lina informed Sylphiel.

"And the right," Sylphiel agreed as they stepped inside, and closed the doors. "Now where?"

Lina studied the panel of buttons, then clapped one hand over her eyes and slapped out randomly with the other. They waited. "Maybe I should try another button," she said dubiously. "Are we moving?"

In answer, the doors sprang open on a dismal greyness with torches. "Ooh!" Lina exclaimed, cheering up immediately, and propelled herself out of the elevator with anticipatory greed. "Cellars!"

Sylphiel followed more slowly, and caught up as she skidded to a halt in front of a shaggy pink carpet with enormous neon flowers all over it. "It seems to have been some sort of residence at one time," she commented.

"Shut up," Lina ordered. "Do you hear that?"

Sylphiel listened. The terrifying but unmistakable sound of 'Lorelie' tamed and whipped into submission and tethered to a music box drifted over the personality-laden shag carpet. Once it had been jazz. It tinkled. "We could dance to it?" she suggested.

After a moment, Lina decided, "No, we couldn't." She grabbed Sylphiel's hand and dragged her along, seeking out the source of the music, and came to the simple doorframe among the torches and black iron grilling.

When they peeked in, Xellos looked up from where he'd been morosely winding the music box up again. It had waddling mechanical penguins in various articles of clothing trying to dance on the top of it. "The party's upstairs," he informed them curtly.

"Well, excuse us for living!" Lina snapped, insulted, and wheeled around.

Sylphiel, less hasty, got to see the sulky expression under the purple-grey hair self-correct into hesitant interest. "No, wait," he said, putting the music box down on the table and half-getting up. His long, unfashionably soft dove-grey vest with its deliberate, lacy pattern of holes was undone over his crisp white shirt, whose buttonholes looked a little frayed, and he'd been sitting on his jacket. "You're Lina Inverse. You ran the Big Bangs workshop at Thaumverd Camp and never came into the nature area. I'm Xellos Rubyeye."

"Uh-uh," Lina objected. "Zel said his name was Valgaav."

"Val's my baby brother. Do you know Zel?"

"We've known him for years," Lina groaned expressively.

Cheering right up and moving to the door, Xellos beamed, "Well, then, pleased to meet you!" He plucked her hand up with a graceful turn of the wrist, kissed the air above her knuckles with a cheery flair, and nearly closed the door on Sylphiel. "What's that?" he asked Lina, eyeing Sylphiel with mild disfavor.

"Oh, that's my partner, Sylphiel Nels Rada," Lina explained unenthusiastically.

"Oh," Xellos grimaced, and moved away from the door with reluctant politeness. "You'd better come in, too, then. Close the door."

Back | Next