Passion (Fallen Book 3) by Lauren Kate

Author:Lauren Kate [Kate, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780375897184
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2011-06-14T00:00:00+00:00

THIRTEEN

STAR-CROSSED

LONDON, ENGLAND • JUNE 29, 1613

Something crunched under Luce’s feet.

She raised the hem of her black gown: A layer of discarded walnut shells on the ground was so thick the stringy brown bits rose up over the buckles of her emerald-green high-heeled slippers.

She was at the rear of a noisy crowd of people. Almost everyone around her was dressed in muted browns or grays, the women in long gowns with ruched bodices and wide cuffs at the ends of their bell sleeves. The men wore tapered pants, broad mantles draping their shoulders, and flat caps made of wool. She’d never stepped out of an Announcer into such a public place before, but here she was, in the middle of a packed amphitheater. It was startling—and riotously loud.

“Look out!” Bill grabbed the neck of her velvet capelet and yanked her backward, pinning her against the wooden rail of a staircase.

A heartbeat later, two grimy boys barreled past in a reckless game of tag that sent a trio of women in their path falling over one another. The women heaved themselves back up and shouted curses at the boys, who jeered back, barely slowing down.

“Next time,” Bill shouted in her ear, cupping his stone claws around his mouth, “could you try directing your little stepping-through exercises into a more—I don’t know—serene setting? How am I supposed to do your costuming in the middle of this mob?”

“Sure, Bill, I’ll work on that.” Luce edged back just as the boys playing tag zipped by again. “Where are we?”

“You’ve circled the globe to find yourself in the Globe, milady.” Bill sketched a little bow.

“The Globe Theatre?” Luce ducked as the woman in front of her discarded a gnawed-on turkey leg by tossing it over her shoulder. “You mean, like, Shakespeare?”

“Well, he claims to be retired. You know those artist types. So moody.” Bill swooped down near the ground, tugging at the hem of her dress and humming to himself.

“Othello happened here,” Luce said, taking a moment to let it all sink in. “The Tempest. Romeo and Juliet. We’re practically standing in the center of all the greatest love stories ever written.”

“Actually, you’re standing in walnut shells.”

“Why do you have to be so glib about everything? This is amazing!”

“Sorry, I didn’t realize we’d need a moment of bardolatry.” His words came out lisped because of the needle clipped between his jagged teeth. “Now stand still.”

“Ouch!” Luce yelped as he jabbed sharply into her kneecap. “What are you doing?”

“Un-Anachronizing you. These folks’ll pay good money for a freak show, but they’re expecting it to stay onstage.” Bill worked quickly, discreetly tucking the long, draped fabric of her black gown from Versailles into a series of folds and crimps so that it was gathered along the sides. He knocked away her black wig and pulled her hair into a frizzy pouf. Then he eyed the velvet capelet around her shoulders. He whipped off the soft fabric. At last, he hocked a giant loogie into one hand, rubbed his palms together, and welded the capelet into a high Jacobean collar.

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