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Chapter Fourteen- Part 1

“Bubbly anyone?”

            “Might as well live like we’re used to it.” Azura took one of the offered flutes.

 Alice said, “Okay, but just one.”

            Altair uncorked the bottle and poured a glass for each of them.

            “Seriously, how did you arrange all this?” Alice asked.

            “Called in a few favours.” He smirked. “You like?”

            “I could defiantly get used to it,” she murmured.

            The ride wasn’t long, and Alice sighed regretfully as the limo rolled up the driveway towards the huge house at the top.  The lavish gardens on either side of the stone driveway were artfully painted by spotlights. They passed through a set of tall iron gates and at last entered the broad parking area. Pillars on either side of the front steps supported a marble archway that curved over the double doors.  The windows were arched, and several on the top level were stain glass, each one lit from within.

             There were two more limos parked at the entrance, although neither was as big as theirs. They could hear the loud splashing of a brightly lit, many levelled fountain in the center of the lot.  There were people milling about on the steps of the house, snapping pictures of everything that moved.

            “Is that the press?” Alice peered out the window.

            “Paparazzi!” Tricia squealed excitedly. “Maybe we’ll get into “Witches”.”

            Lacy touched her hair self-consciously. “I hope they get my good side.”

Altair snorted, “Yes, that’s the press. Ambrose lets them get closer to the house than any other celebrity. He loves the publicity.”

            “Do we have to get out?”  She was tempted to tell the driver to turn around and take them home.  They rolled to a stop behind the second limo.  

            “Okay,” Altair said, “Sit tight. We let the first two groups make their entrance.”

            Alice clutched at the butterflies in her stomach as she watched the first limousine’s occupant step out.

            “Oh!” Tricia gasped, “Look at her dress!”

            The woman that stepped out was tall, with long blonde ringlets. Her dress was a dusty rose color, and her mask was covered in tiny diamonds, glimmering as she turned her head.

She smiled at the photographers, gliding forward, her dress rippling like water.  They snapped picture after picture of her, exclaiming delightedly and jockeying for the best positions. Alice rolled down her window a tiny crack.

            “Laphelia, look this way!”

            “What designer is your dress by?”

            “Over here, Laphelia!”

            “Oh, I just got a great shot…”

            The doors swung open as Laphelia reached the top step, emitting a burst of noise and light, and she disappeared inside.  The photographers forgot about her as soon as she was out of sight; the next limousine drove up to the bottom of the steps and they readied their cameras excitedly.

            Two women emerged, each in brilliant, jewel toned satin dresses. The masks they wore covered only half of their face, stopping in the middle of their lips and nose. They were done in a domino pattern - the first woman’s mask was on the right side of her face, the second woman wore hers on the left. In spite of the masks, Alice knew immediately who they were. The feathers on their backs had been covered in silver sparkles, and when they climbed out and spread them open, stretching their glittering wings so that they were nearly as long as the limousine from tip to tip, the effect was staggering.  The press loved it, snapping pictures and chattering excitedly.