Read Online PHANTOM IN TIME by Eugenia Riley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Eugenia Riley
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darling.
Go where your destiny takes you.”
Bella
stared at Gran through suddenly stinging eyes. “I can't go anywhere unless I
sing for you.”
But
Gran merely patted her hand. “You'll sing for me, dear. You'll sing.”
***
Go
where your destiny takes you.
That
night at the premiere, as Bella swung in her cage while Victor Daly serenaded
her, she caught a glimpse of Gran, sitting on the front row of the packed
house, smiling up at her. How she wished she could smile back, or wave! Gran
was so dear, so selfless to consider her granddaughter's destiny above her own
welfare.
Daly's
solo ended to enthusiastic applause. Afterward, as Bella's cage was lowered and
the kaleidoscope began to revolve, she clambered out into the fountain of
light, again dizzy and disoriented. After staggering offstage, she stood in the
wings for a moment, steadying herself and watching the corps de ballet perform their enthralling dance of “A Waltz Dream.” A moment later, she headed
off to her dressing room to change for “Ride of the Valkyries.”
Dixie, at the dressing table, was already attired in her Valkyrie costume. “Hi, Bella, how
was your number?”
“Oh,
it was fine, though that kaleidoscope is still giving me fits,” Bella muttered,
setting down her rose, unfastening her brooch, and unbuttoning her blouse.
Dixie stood and picked up Bella's winged helmet. “Need some help with your costume?”
“Yes,
thanks,” Bella replied while pulling off her blouse. “They're doing 'A Waltz
Dream' now, and I think we'll have about ten more minutes before Daly and
Bernard conclude the love duet from Romeo et Juliette .”
The
two women worked quickly getting Bella changed. Minutes later, both stood
before the mirror in their gleaming winged helmets, their flowing white gowns
topped by glittering silver chain mail vests. Both wore their hair down and
loosely curled.
“We
look ridiculous,” declared Bella.
Dixie laughed. “Right.” She grabbed a spear and shoved it into Bella's hand. “Don't forget
your lance. Perhaps it will help you keep your equilibrium as we go onstage.
Wish we didn't have to enter from opposite sides, or I'd assist you.”
“I'll
be okay,” Bella said bravely.
The
two women rushed out the door and parted company in the wings. Bella arrived at
her entrance point just as Bernard and Daly concluded their powerful duet. With
applause thundering out and the kaleidoscope beginning to whirl again, she
gripped her spear and entered the stage, passing Anna Maria in her Italian
Renaissance costume—
Within
seconds, Bella halted in her tracks. The dizziness hit her again, this time
with staggering intensity. Bella felt as if she were spinning out of control,
her body revolving in powerful circles, passionately seized by dancing light.
And she could hear Jacques singing, beckoning to her in his poignant, powerful
voice:
Just a song at twilight,
When the lights are low,
And the flick'ring shadows,
Softly come and go.
Tho' the heart be weary,
Sad the day and long,
Still to us at twilight
Comes love's old song,
Comes love's old sweet song.
When
at last Bella ceased to whirl, she was stunned to find herself back on that other stage again, the very stage she had visited so briefly last night! She stood at
the edge beneath the proscenium arch, looking out at an audience of
uproariously laughing Victorian spectators. Hearing a man singing, she whirled
and found herself face-to-face with Jacques LeFevre, who appeared to be very
much alive, dressed in a dashing red and black toreador costume. He was staring
at her in amazement as he belted out the “Toreador Song.” Behind him loomed a
backdrop of a tavern in rural Spain; Jacques was surrounded by other singers in
period costumes—people Bella had never seen before!
Hearing
additional mirth spilling from the audience, Bella struggled not to cringe. Oh,
heavens, what had happened to her! Here she was, dressed as a Valkyrie from Valhalla,
Go where your destiny takes you.”
Bella
stared at Gran through suddenly stinging eyes. “I can't go anywhere unless I
sing for you.”
But
Gran merely patted her hand. “You'll sing for me, dear. You'll sing.”
***
Go
where your destiny takes you.
That
night at the premiere, as Bella swung in her cage while Victor Daly serenaded
her, she caught a glimpse of Gran, sitting on the front row of the packed
house, smiling up at her. How she wished she could smile back, or wave! Gran
was so dear, so selfless to consider her granddaughter's destiny above her own
welfare.
Daly's
solo ended to enthusiastic applause. Afterward, as Bella's cage was lowered and
the kaleidoscope began to revolve, she clambered out into the fountain of
light, again dizzy and disoriented. After staggering offstage, she stood in the
wings for a moment, steadying herself and watching the corps de ballet perform their enthralling dance of “A Waltz Dream.” A moment later, she headed
off to her dressing room to change for “Ride of the Valkyries.”
Dixie, at the dressing table, was already attired in her Valkyrie costume. “Hi, Bella, how
was your number?”
“Oh,
it was fine, though that kaleidoscope is still giving me fits,” Bella muttered,
setting down her rose, unfastening her brooch, and unbuttoning her blouse.
Dixie stood and picked up Bella's winged helmet. “Need some help with your costume?”
“Yes,
thanks,” Bella replied while pulling off her blouse. “They're doing 'A Waltz
Dream' now, and I think we'll have about ten more minutes before Daly and
Bernard conclude the love duet from Romeo et Juliette .”
The
two women worked quickly getting Bella changed. Minutes later, both stood
before the mirror in their gleaming winged helmets, their flowing white gowns
topped by glittering silver chain mail vests. Both wore their hair down and
loosely curled.
“We
look ridiculous,” declared Bella.
Dixie laughed. “Right.” She grabbed a spear and shoved it into Bella's hand. “Don't forget
your lance. Perhaps it will help you keep your equilibrium as we go onstage.
Wish we didn't have to enter from opposite sides, or I'd assist you.”
“I'll
be okay,” Bella said bravely.
The
two women rushed out the door and parted company in the wings. Bella arrived at
her entrance point just as Bernard and Daly concluded their powerful duet. With
applause thundering out and the kaleidoscope beginning to whirl again, she
gripped her spear and entered the stage, passing Anna Maria in her Italian
Renaissance costume—
Within
seconds, Bella halted in her tracks. The dizziness hit her again, this time
with staggering intensity. Bella felt as if she were spinning out of control,
her body revolving in powerful circles, passionately seized by dancing light.
And she could hear Jacques singing, beckoning to her in his poignant, powerful
voice:
Just a song at twilight,
When the lights are low,
And the flick'ring shadows,
Softly come and go.
Tho' the heart be weary,
Sad the day and long,
Still to us at twilight
Comes love's old song,
Comes love's old sweet song.
When
at last Bella ceased to whirl, she was stunned to find herself back on that other stage again, the very stage she had visited so briefly last night! She stood at
the edge beneath the proscenium arch, looking out at an audience of
uproariously laughing Victorian spectators. Hearing a man singing, she whirled
and found herself face-to-face with Jacques LeFevre, who appeared to be very
much alive, dressed in a dashing red and black toreador costume. He was staring
at her in amazement as he belted out the “Toreador Song.” Behind him loomed a
backdrop of a tavern in rural Spain; Jacques was surrounded by other singers in
period costumes—people Bella had never seen before!
Hearing
additional mirth spilling from the audience, Bella struggled not to cringe. Oh,
heavens, what had happened to her! Here she was, dressed as a Valkyrie from Valhalla,
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