Read Page 188

“I’m marked, I’m afraid.” She sinks next to us. “Violet?” she says, offering a flower.

Ann waves away the delicate bloom. “If I should wear that, they’ll think I intend not to marry. That is what it means to wear violets.”Advertisement

Unbowed, Felicity places the violet in her white-blond hair, where it shines like a beacon.

“Now that Mrs. Nightwing will allow me to attend the ball, I must have a costume,” Ann says. “I rather thought I’d go as Lady Macbeth.”

“Mmmm,” I murmur, casting backward glances at the girls playing round the maypole, then beyond, toward the camp. But I’ve not seen Kartik since the night of the men in the woods.

Felicity dangles a violet over my forehead like a spider, and I scream, which pleases her beyond measure.

“Don’t,” I warn.

“Very well, Your Ladyship Brooding St. Petulant,” she says. “What are you thinking about so intently?”

“I was wondering why Wilhelmina hasn’t shown me where to find the dagger or the key that holds the truth. I’m wondering what she meant to warn me about.”

“If she meant to warn you,” Felicity argues. “Perhaps it was a trick, and you were wise enough to avoid it.”

“Perhaps,” I say. “But what of Eugenia?”

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“Are you certain you really saw her?” Ann asks. “For none of us did, and we were there with you.”

And I wonder if I imagined that, too. If I can even discern truth from illusion anymore. But, no, I saw her—I felt her. She was real, and the danger she sensed was real, but for the life of me, I cannot put the pieces together.

“And McCleethy and Nightwing?” I ask.

Felicity kicks her feet, making little splashes. “You know that they’re rebuilding the East Wing to take advantage of the secret door. But that’s all you know for certain. It will take ages to restore, and they’ve no inkling that we’re already making use of it. And by the time they do know, we’ll have already made the alliance and it shall be too late.”

“You’re forgetting that the Hajin won’t join us and the forest folk hate me,” I say.

Fee’s eyes flash. “They had their chance. Why don’t we make the alliance, just the four of us—you, me, Ann, and Pippa?”

“About Pip…,” I say warily.

Felicity’s face darkens. “What is it?”

“Aren’t you alarmed by the changes in her?”

“You mean her power,” Fee says, correcting me.

“I think she’s been going to the Winterlands,” I continue. “I think she sacrificed Wendy’s rabbit. Perhaps she’s made other sacrifices as well.”

Felicity crushes the violet between her fingers. “Shall I tell you what I think? I think you don’t like that she has power now. Or that Ann and I can enter the realms without you. I saw your face when the door opened for us!”

“I was only surprised…,” I start, but the lie dies on my tongue.

“And anyway, you’re the one acting strangely, Gemma. Cavorting with Circe. Seeing things that aren’t there. You’re the one who’s not right!” She gives the water one final splash and the droplets arc neatly over the river and land back on me.

“I—I just think it best if we go into the realms together,” I say. “For now.”

Felicity looks me straight in the eyes. “You’re no longer in charge.”

“Come on, Gemma,” Ann entreats. “Let’s have a go round the maypole. Leave it for now.”

She takes Felicity’s hand and they run for the maypole. They weave in and out, laughing, and I wish I could forget everything and join them. But I can’t. I can only hope that I will sort this out in time. I make my way past the lake and up the hill to the old cemetery. The jutting headstones welcome me, for I am suitably grave.

I lay one of Felicity’s violets at Eugenia Spence’s stone. Beloved sister. “I don’t suppose you know where to find the dagger,” I say to the slab. The wind answers by blowing the posy away. “Thought not.”

“Talking to headstones?” It’s Kartik. He carries a small lunch in a pail. A shaft of sunlight halos his face and for a moment I am taken with how beautiful he is—and how truly happy I am to see him. “You only need worry if they answer,” he says. “I’ll go if—”

“No, stay,” I say. “I’d like that.”

He sits on a grave whose markings are nearly gone with time and nods toward the maids beating carpets in a fury. “There is a masked ball, I hear.” pqdm.com