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Felicity pulls me into the parlor. "What happened at the ball, it must never be spoken of again." She won't look at me. "It isn't what you think, anyway. My father is a good and loving man and a perfect gentleman. He would never harm anyone."

"What about Polly?"Advertisement

"What about Polly?" she says, suddenly staring me down. She can put such ice in those eyes when she has a care to. "She's lucky to have been taken in by us. She'll have everything she wants--the best governess, schools, clothes, and a season to end all seasons. Better than the orphanage by far."

This is the price of her friendship, my silence.

"Do we have an agreement?"

Ann joins us."Have I missed anything?"

Felicity's waiting for my answer.

"No," I say to Ann.

Felicity's shoulders drop. "Let's not be bothered by the horrors of holiday visits to home. Gemma knows where to find the Temple."

"I've seen it, I think."

"What are we waiting for? Let's go," Ann says.

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The garden is nearly unrecognizable to me. Weeds have sprung up thick and dry and tall as sentries. The carcass of a small animal, a rabbit or a hedgehog, lies opened in the brittle grass. Flies swarm it. They make an awful, loud buzzing. "Are you sure we're in the garden?" Ann asks, looking around. "

Yes," I say. "Look, there's the silver arch." It is tarnished but there all the same.

Felicity finds the rock where Pippa's hidden her arrows and hoists the quiver onto her back."Where's Pip?"

A beautiful animal steps out from the bushes. It is like a cross between a deer and a pony, with a long, glossy mane and flanks of a dappled mauve.

"Hello," I say.

The creature ambles toward us and stops, sniffing the air. She goes skittish, as if she's smelled something that alarms her. Suddenly, she breaks into a run, just as something leaps from the brush with a warrior's cry.

"Get away!" I shout, pushing the others into the heavy weeds.

The animal's wrestled to the ground, screaming. There is the sick sound of bone breaking, and then nothing.

"What was that thing?" Ann whispers.

"I don't know," I say.

Felicity grabs her bow, and we follow her to the edge of the weeds. Something's hunched over the animal's side where it has been ripped open.

Felicity positions herself."Stop where you are!"

The creature looks up. It's Pippa, her face streaked with the animal's blood. For a moment, I swear I see her eyes go blue-white, a look of hunger passing over her usually lovely face.

"Pippa?" Felicity asks, lowering the bow. "What are you doing?"

Pippa rises. Her dress is tattered and her hair a mess. "I had to do it. It was going to hurt you."

"No, it wasn't," I say. "Yes, it was!" she shouts."You don't know these things." She walks toward us, and I instinctively move back. She pulls a dandelion from the ground, offering it to Felicity. "Shall we ride down the river again? It's so lovely on the river. Ann, I know a place where the magic is very strong. We could make you so beautiful that you could have your heart's desire."

"I should like to be beautiful," Ann says. "After we find the Temple, of course."

"Ann," I warn. I don't mean to say it. It just slips out.

Pippa looks from Ann to Felicity to me. "Do you know where it is?"

"Gemma saw it in a vis--"

I interrupt Felicity."No. Not just yet."

Pippa's eyes brim with tears. "You do know where it is. And you don't want me along."

She's right. I'm afraid of Pip, of what she's becoming.

"Of course we want you along, don't we?" Felicity says to me.

Pip demolishes the flower. She glares at me."No, she doesn't. She doesn't like me. She never did."

" That isn't true," I say.

" It is! You've always been jealous of me. You were jealous of my friendship with Felicity. And you were jealous of the way that Indian boy, Kartik, used to look at me, as if he wanted me. You hated me for it. Don't bother denying it, for I saw your face!"

She's pierced me through with the truth, and she knows it. "Don't be ridiculous," I say. I can't catch my breath.

She fixes me with a stare like a wounded animal."I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you." There it is, the thing that's been left unsaid.

"You--you chose to eat the berries," I sputter."You chose to stay." pqdm.com