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degree of satisfaction to see Daedalus lost in his own maze."

It was an interestingly perceptive way to view it, and pointed to a truth. Daedalus was the only one who truly knew the way out.

Chapter 32

The masquerade came to life on its own, it seemed, designed by a master hand and executed by efficient servants. By the time the family emerged from their meal, the public areas of the house were mysteriously underlit, though at the top of the main stairs an artificial moon shone in welcome. In the entrance hall a solitary flautist played, a haunting, mysterious sound to greet the excited, whispering guests.

Elf took Diana's hand and led her to slip among the masked guests. "You want to experience this as it is designed to be experienced," she whispered.

"Why?" Diana asked, but Elf wouldn't say.

As they climbed the stairs, a Harlequin stepped up beside her. "Diana the huntress? You can hunt me, my lovely."

Not the man she was interested in. "Perhaps later, if you find me again, sir."

Would Bey be blending with his guests, or waiting in the ballroom as the master of this performance? She pinned her faith to Elf's belief that he would be here somewhere. He had to be.

Would she recognize him? She felt she must, but if the disguise was deep enough he might succeed in hiding from her. She began to scrutinize everyone.

Most people were not heavily disguised, and it was easy to tell they were not him. Some, however, were wearing the Venetian costume of encompassing cloak, hat, and mask which made it hard to recognize the person beneath.

She studied lips, hands, and voices.

No, he wasn't among those around her.

Aware of nervous cries ahead, she passed through a Grecian arch into the corridor outside the ballroom. No sight of the portraits tonight, for it had been turned into a sort of maze, with twisting passageways just wide enough for one person.

Daedalus, indeed.

The walls of the passageways were painted gray, and a gray cover hung over, only high enough to let a tall man pass. Some light filtered through the cloth from above, but it was still an eerily dark, enclosed, serpentine route. Though she knew where she was, and that she was in no danger, Diana still felt pressed in and threatened. She heard giddy female exclamations around her, and manly reassurances.

All part of the game.

Elf was just behind her, and whispered, "Just wait till you see this!"

They stepped out of the maze and into night.

Not black night. Starlit night, where more ethereal wind instruments played.

The whole room must have been hung with dense black, and against it, stars had somehow been devised. Larger lights made planets, including Saturn and its rings. In the center, however, hung another huge moon, realistic markings clear and perfect.

"How is it done?" she whispered to Elf as they moved into the room among gasping guests. She felt cloth beneath her feet, and realized the floor was covered in black, too.

"A sphere of white glass painted with the shadows of the moon, and with oil lamps inside. We used it at a midsummer night's ball a few years back, and the maze even longer ago. This is nearly all put together from old stock."

But, Diana thought, circling to take it all in, this was the work of a master hand, and he'd been supervising this even as he dealt with all the other matters.

She explored one of the small grottoes that had been made along the walls, where silver trees and branches glowed under concealed lights, and benches invited.

"We have those for all the masquerades," Elf said. "Just give them a new coat of paint."

Diana looked at her. "You don't want me to be impressed?"

Elf shrugged apologetically. "I don't want you to think he's superhuman."

"I don't. Where is he? Do you know what costume he's wearing?"

"No," said Elf. "Honestly."

"I'm going to find him."

Diana set off to circle the room, studying faces as best she could in the dim light, listening to voices, above all letting a secret sense hunt for him. In one corner she found a Grecian temple on a dais, unilluminated as yet, and wondered briefly what part that would play. She went on her way, hunting, hunting...

Pausing to look up again at the miraculous moon, she found that from this side, a ghostly face smiled down. The man in the moon looking amused at human folly.

"A shame to have to use an artificial one, when there's a real full moon sailing the skies