Mask of Aribella by Anna Hoghton

Author:Anna Hoghton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Chicken House
Published: 2020-02-02T16:00:00+00:00

Aribella dressed quickly and slipped out into the corridor. There was still an hour before breakfast and the hotel was quiet, apart from the faint swish of oars on canals, and snores coming from behind bedroom doors. There was some odd quality to the quiet, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.

She hurried down to her fireproof training room on the second floor, crept in and closed the door softly. She put on the mask and tied the ribbons. As usual, it felt hot and uncomfortable. Her warped reflection looked back at her in the four steel walls. She immediately felt as hopeless as always. But then she thought of Theo and Papa, and knew she had to keep trying.

She thought of all Rodolfo had taught her and all that the Mask Maker had said. She remembered the warm feeling she’d had looking in the mirror at the Mask Maker’s shop. She met her own gaze and tried to summon this feeling once more. She tried to think of the good fire could do – that it could cook and warm and guide someone home on a dark night. She tried to like her power, to understand that it was hers and hers alone. At first, her attempts felt useless, but then – as she practised – a surge of heat thrummed through her. It was not the sudden snap of heat that heralded the flames but a warm glow that spread down her arms and into her hands, making her feel powerful and strong.

Her fingers started to tingle and she looked down at her hands. A surge of pure joy went through her. Flames danced across both her palms, as they had in the shop – only this time they weren’t just in her reflection. This was real. There was no pain, no fear. Instead, the flames felt like old friends – familiar, as if they were part of her and always had been.

Aribella had no idea how long she stayed there, holding fire in her palms: it could have been minutes or hours. Eventually she closed her hands and the flames extinguished. She stepped back, panting. Her fingers did not hurt . . . She’d done it. She’d actually done it! She’d summoned her power.

The mask vibrated against her skin, almost happily, as if it was purring.

Triumphantly, Aribella untied the ribbons of the mask and pulled it off more carefully than usual, no longer detesting it as much. She turned the mask over and looked at the scratched-out name under her own, trying to work out what it said, but it was no good. She looked at her own name. It didn’t matter whose mask this had been, it was hers now, she told herself, starting to believe it could be true.

When she crept back out into the hallway, she was met by the delicious smell of cooked garlic and heard the murmur of voices coming from the floor below. She realized everyone must be in the dining room for lunch.

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