Free Masks and Shadows by Stephanie Burgis Page A

a pocket with one tap of the cue stick, then looked up and grinned. “I think he’s got a secret family tucked away in the big city, eh, Friedrich? Was the little woman writing to tell you she’d had another set of twins?”
    â€œCome on, now . . .” Friedrich began.
    â€œGood for you, von Höllner!” Lautzner roared. He slammed another beer stein into Friedrich’s hand and forcibly poured it down Friedrich’s throat. “Tell us all about her! What’s she like in bed?”
    Ten minutes later, Friedrich’s head was spinning happily, and he was at the center of a boisterous circle, all trying out-do each other’s tales of conquests. He slammed down yet another beer stein and scooped up a new one, shouting to make himself heard above the others.
    â€œJust wait until I tell you—!”
    As the circle of faces turned to him expectantly, Friedrich’s throat closed up. Tucked into the handle of the new stein was a sealed note, addressed to him. He recognized the seal.
    â€œWell?” Anton demanded. “ Well , damn it? What?”
    â€œNothing,” Friedrich mumbled. “Never mind. I don’t remember.” He swallowed down bile. “I think . . . I have to go now.”
    â€œBloody girlish Westerner.” Anton frowned. “Hell, you actually don’t look good. Shall I come with you and help?”
    â€œNo,” Friedrich said. “No.” He slipped the note out of the cup handle and backed away. “I need . . . I think I’d better be alone.”
    He walked out of the room, weaving slightly, while catcalls followed after him.

    Anna whirled from one grand, high-ceilinged room to the next. In the daytime, the nobility walked these floors, and she’d never dare show her face where she hadn’t a specific task to complete, even if she’d had the time for aimless wandering. Now they were all asleep in the central wing of the palace, and she was free, although she’d pay dearly in exhaustion later.
    Her tears had slowed after the first few minutes. She still hated György—hated the other maids who’d laughed with him—hated . . .
    She chewed her bottom lip, fighting down the misery.
    More than any of the rest, she hated herself, for turning into a laughingstock just as she’d finally begun to make a few friends here.
    A song welled up in her chest, crying to be released, to soothe her. But even now, well after midnight, it wasn’t safe for her to sing in an open space. If one of the other servants heard, she’d never earn back any respect.
    She forced herself to keep walking, despite the throbbing headache that had begun at the back of her skull. Another half an hour and she’d be able to sleep, too tired to worry about what other people thought of her, what her nightmares might be, or even about the bloodsucking demons that lurked outside the castle walls.
    She turned down a narrow side corridor and then shrank back. A gust of cold wind swept drops of rain onto her arms and face. Who would have opened a window in this weather?
    She took a few hesitant steps into the corridor, wincing at the cold, damp air. Perhaps she ought to close the window herself. There were expensive-looking porcelain vases standing on pedestals nearby, being spattered by the rain.
    On her third step, she looked down and saw blood on the floorboards.
    Blood and an open window.
    A silent scream swallowed up the back of her throat. Dizziness enveloped her. She leapt sideways, reaching out to the inner wall for balance—and heard a man’s deep voice murmuring in the room on the other side. He spoke too quietly for her to make out any words but with a tone of compulsion that drew her closer despite herself, straining to hear more.
    A hissing, whooshing sound answered the man. And then the voice rose in anger—
    Soft footsteps sounded in the distance. Anna gasped and jerked back from the wall as if stung.