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“Do you trust me?” he asked.
“Not even remotely,” she said.
He looked at her, lips now pursed in disapproval.
“A little,” she said. “Why do you ask?”
“Because,” he said, “I want to do something for you. Here. Now. Will you let me?”
“Does it involve shagging with grape leaves on our heads?”
“It doesn’t involve shagging at all.”
Lia’s eyes widened in shock. “I’m almost scared.”
“You should be.” He grinned maniacally. Mad as a hatter, this one was, Lia decided. Good thing she liked mad hatters so much.
“Please?” he said. “You’ll like it.”
“It will scare meandI’ll like it? That makes no sense at all.”
August took her face in his hands and held her gaze. His eyes appeared darker here, in this place, bluer, truer, as if the August in the real world were a pale shadow of the August in this world. It seemed he belonged here, and she almost wished they could stay in this place forever. The colors were more vibrant, the winds sweeter and stronger, and the woods full of secret beasts no mortal had ever seen nor tamed.
“All right,” she said. “I trust you.”
“Close your eyes.”
She closed her eyes.
“Don’t peek.”
She didn’t peek.
“Tell me your favorite color.”
Lia said it was pink most days, sometimes yellow, like sunrise.
“The colors of sunrise will do nicely,” August said. “There. I’ve got it. Open your eyes.”
Lia opened her eyes.
She looked at August. He’d changed clothes and now wore the garb of a turn-of-the-century country squire, ready to muck about on a wet Sunday ramble. Mud-brown trousers, a matching waistcoat, a linen shirt, neck buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to reveal his wrists.
“You approve?” he asked.
“You look nice,” she said. “Like a duke’s gamekeeper.”
He pointed at a red curtain that hung seemingly on nothing and for no reason in the middle of the meadow.
“What?” she asked.
“Let’s see behind the curtain. I’ve got a surprise for you...”
She raised an eyebrow at him but let him take her by the arm and lead her through the red curtain.
As soon as they passed through it, they were in a new world.
Lia glanced around... The landscape had changed entirely. Gone was the lush Mediterranean paradise. Where they stood now looked like the Lake District of England. A little river wound around them from a source unknown and into a thick forest of oaks and willows. A wind kicked up, a winding wind that wound its way through reedy trees. Finally, birdsong. Goldfinch, song thrush and wren.
