Chapter 15

Previous Top Next

"Can you believe that he brought me red carnations? Do you know what that means in the

language of flowers? Admiration! 'I admire you,' That will certainly win a girl's heart."

Pippa is tearing the carnations apart one by one and sprinkling the colorful carnage over

the cave floor.

"I think carnations are rather nice," Ann says.

"I'm only seventeen! My season has barely begun. I intend to enjoy it, not be married off

to the first poxy old barrister with money." Pippa rips away the rest of the carnation in her

hand, revealing a naked, nubby stalk.

I haven't said a word. I'm still smarting from that nasty letter this afternoon and the fact

that Felicity is wearing one of Pippa's new gloves while Pippa wears the other, like

badges of their friendship.

"Why is she in such a hurry to see you married?" Ann asks.

"She doesn't want anyone to know…" Pippa stops, stricken.

"Doesn't want anyone to know what?" I ask.

"What they're getting before it's too late." She tosses the flower stem to the ground.

I have no idea what she means. Pippa is beautiful. And her family may be merchant class

but they are well-to-do and respectable. Other than being vain, obnoxious, and subject to

romantic delusions, she's all right.

"What do you do when you're with a suitor?" Ann asks. She makes little xs in the dirt

with a beheaded carnation.

Pippa sighs. "Oh, it's generally the same. You have to fawn over them. After they bore

you to tears with some story about a legal case they argued, you have to lower your eyes

and say something like 'My, I had no idea the law could be so fascinating, Mr. Bumble.

But when you put it that way, why, it's just like reading a novel!"

We fall over laughing. "No! You didn't say that!" Felicity howls.

Pippa is losing her mopey air. "Oh, yes, I did! And how do you like this one." She bats

her lashes and adopts a sweet, shy demeanor. "Well, perhaps I could manage just one

chocolate…"

This has me laughing in spite of myself. We all know Pippa is a secret glutton.

"One chocolate:'" Felicity screams. "My God, if he could see you put away an entire tray

of toffees he'd be appalled! When you get married, you'll have to hide them in your

boudoir and stuff them down when he's not looking."

Pippa screeches and pretends to beat Felicity with the carnation stem. "You're wicked! I

most certainly am not marrying Mr. Bumble. Gracious, his name is Bumble! That's a

curse right there!"

Felicity runs just out of the carnation's reach. "Oh, yes, you are going to marry him! He's

called on you four times now. I'll bet your mother's planning the wedding even as we

speak!"

Pippa's laugh dies. "You don't really think so, do you?"

"No," Felicity says quickly. "No, it was a bad joke, that's all."

"I want to marry my true love. I know it's silly, but I can't help it."

Pippa looks so small suddenly, sitting there among her strewn petals, that I've almost

forgotten how angry I am. I've never been able to hold a grudge anyway.

Felicity tilts Pippa's chin upward with a finger. "And you will. Now, let's call this meeting

to order. Pip, why don't you administer the sacrament?"

She brings out the whiskey again. I groan inwardly. But when it comes my way, I take my

poison and find it's not so bad if you take small sips. This time, I drink only till I feel

warm and light, not beyond.

"We must have a reading from the diary of our sister, Mary Dowd. Gemma, will you do

the honors this evening?" With a bow Felicity hands the diary to me. I clear my throat

and begin:

"March 21, 1871

"Today we stood among the Runes of the Oracle. Under Eugenia's guidance, we touched

our fingers to them for an instant, receiving the magic. The sensation was overpowering.

It was as if we could feel each other's very thoughts, as if we were one and the same."

Felicity raises an eyebrow. "Sounds naughty. Mary and Sarah are probably Sapphists."

"What on earth is a Sapphist?" Pippa is already bored. She's twirling the ends of her black

ringlets round her ungloved finger, trying to achieve a more perfect curl.

"Must I tell you everything?" Felicity scoffs.

I have no idea what a Sapphist is either, but I'm not about to ask now.

"From the Greek Sappho, a lady poet who enjoyed the love of other women."

Pippa stops twirling. "Whatever is the matter with that?"

Felicity lowers her head and gives Pippa a baleful look. "Sapphists prefer the love of

women to men."

I understand fully now, as does Ann, I gather, by the way she nervously straightens her

skirts with her hands, not meeting anyone's eyes. Pippa squints at Felicity as if she might

read the meaning in her forehead, but slowly, a blush creeps up her neck into her cheeks

and she's gasping. "Oh, my heavens, you can't honestly mean that… that they… like

husband and wife… ?"

"Yes, exactly."

Pippa is stunned into silence. The red does not fade from her face and neck. I'm

embarrassed too, but I don't want them to know it. "May I please continue?"

"The Gypsies came back today to make camp. When we saw the smoke from their fire,

Sarah and I hurried to see Mother Elena."

"Mother Elena!" Ann gasps.

"That lunatic with the ragged head scarf?" Pippa wrinkles her nose in distaste. "Shhh! Go

on," Felicity says.

"She welcomed us warmly with herb tea and tales of her travels. We gave sweets to

Carolina, who devoured them. To Mother we gave five pence. And then she promised to

read the cards for us, as she has before. But no sooner had Mother placed Sarah's cards in

the familiar cross pattern than she stopped and shuffled them into a pile again. 'The cards

have a bad temper today,' she said with a little smile, but in truth she seemed taken by a

sense of foreboding. She asked to see my palm, snaking her sharp fingernail along the

pathways of my hand. 'You are on a dark journey,' she said, dropping my hand like a hot

stone. 'I cannot see the outcome.' Then, most abruptly, she asked us to leave as she

needed to make her way through the camp to be sure things were well settled."

Ann is peering over my arm, trying to read ahead. I pull the book away and end up

dropping it, scattering the pages.

"Bravo, my lady Grace!" Felicity applauds.

Ann helps me cluster the papers together in my arms. She can't stand having anything out

of order. A patch of wrist is exposed. I can see the red cross-hatching of welts there, fresh

and angry. This is no accident. She's doing it to herself.

She sees me looking and pulls hard at her sleeves, covering her secret.

"Come now," Felicity chides. "What more will the diary of Mary Dowd reveal to us

tonight?"

I grab a page. "Here we go," I say. It's not the same page, but that hardly matters to them.

"April 1, 1871

"Sarah came to me in tears. 'Mary, Mary, I cannot find the door. The power is leaving me.'

"'You are overwrought, Sarah. That is all. Try again tomorrow.'

"'No, no,' she wailed. 'I have tried for hours now. 1 tell you it is gone.'

"My heart was gripped with an icy cold. 'Sarah, come. I'll help you find it'

"She turned on me with such fury that I scarcely recognized her as my friend. 'Don't you

understand? I must do it myself or it's not real I cannot ride along on your powers, Mary.'

She began to cry then. 'Oh, Mary, Mary, I cannot bear to think that I will never again

touch the runes or feel their magic flowing through me. I cannot bear to think that I will

be only ordinary Sarah from now on.'

"For the rest of the evening I could not rest or eat at all. Eugenia saw my misery and bade

me sit with her in her own room. She says it is often that way—a girl's power flares, then

fades. The power must be nurtured deep in the soul, else it's nothing more than grasping.

Oh, diary, she confided that Sarah's power is such, fleeting and unanchored. She says that

the realms make the decision about who shall rise in the Order and learn all the ancient

mysteries and who must stay behind. Eugenia patted my hand and confessed that the

power is great in me, hut I am lost to think of going forward without my dearest friend

and sister.

"When Sarah came to me late this evening, I felt as if I would do anything to make things

as they were before, with us close as sisters again and the magic of the realms within our

reach. I told her so.

"'Oh, Mary,' she cried. 'You've cheered me considerably. You know there is a way that we

can be together always.'

"'What do you mean?'

"'I have a confession. I have visited the Winterlands. I have seen it.'

"I was shocked at this, it chilled me so. 'But, Sarah, that is a realm we are not to know

yet. There are things we should not see without the guide of our elders here.'

"Sarah got such a hard look in her eyes. 'Don't you see? Our elders want us to know only

what they can control. They fear us, Mary. That is why Eugenia is taking the power from

me. I have spoken to a spirit that wanders there. She told me the truth!

"Her words seemed true, but I was afraid still. 'Sarah, I'm afraid. To call up a dark spirit is

to go against everything we've been taught.'

"Sarah clasped my hands. 'It's only to bring us the power we need. We will bind the spirit

to us, make it do our bidding. Don't worry so, Mary. We will be its masters, not the other

way around, and once the Order sees what we can do, what power we hold by ourselves,

they'll have to let me stay. We'll be together forever.'

"This next part I shuddered to speak aloud. 'What will it require?'

"Sarah stroked my cheek lovingly. 'A small sacrifice, nothing

more. A grass snake or a sparrow, perhaps. She will tell us. Sleep now, Mary. And

tomorrow, we shall make our plans.'

"Oh, diary, my heart feels much misgiving about this endeavor. But what can I do? Sarah

is my dearest friend in all the world. I cannot go on without her. And perhaps she is right.

Perhaps, if we keep our hearts strong and pure, we can bend the creature to our will,

using it only for the best intentions."

Pippa is nearly breathless. "Well, there's a fine place to leave off."

"Yes, the plot thickens," Felicity says. "In fact, it may be congealing."

Everyone shares a giggle except me. The passage has left me uneasy. Or it could be the

heat. It's unseasonably warm for September. The air inside the caves is sticky, and I've

begun to sweat beneath my corset.

"Do you suppose Mother Elena could tell us our futures?" Ann muses.

I can't help it. At the thought of Gypsies, my eyes find Felicity's. She gives me a piercing

glare as if I'm betraying her with this quick look.

"I'm not sure that Mother Elena could tell us the day of the week," Felicity says.

"I have the most marvelous idea," Pippa trills, and suddenly, I know we're in for it. "Let's

see if we can make our own magic."

"I'm game," Felicity says. "Who else wants to commune with the other world?"

Pippa sits on Felicity's right, their gloved hands intertwined. Ann plops down next to

Pippa. The hair on the back of my neck stands up.

"I don't think this is a good idea," I begin, realizing at once that it sounds cowardly.

"Are you afraid we'll turn you into a frog?" Felicity pats the ground beside her. There's no

getting around it. I'm going to have to join the circle. Reluctantly, I take my seat and join

hands with Ann and Felicity.

Pippa has the giggles again. "What do we say to get started?"

"We'll go around in a circle and each add something," Felicity instructs. "I'll start. O great

spirits of the Order. We are your daughters. Speak to us now. Tell us your secrets."

"Come to us, O daughters of Sappho." Pippa dissolves into laughter.

"We don't know that they're Sapphists," Felicity says, annoyed. "If we're going to do this,

let's do it right."

Chastened, Pippa says softly, "Come to us now in this place."

"We beseech you," Ann adds.

It's quiet. They're waiting for me.

"All right," I say, sighing and rolling my eyes. "But I do this against my better judgment,

and I'd best not hear these words come back to haunt me as private little jokes later."

I close my eyes and concentrate on Ann's heavy, congested breathing, willing my mind to

stay blank. "Sarah Rees- Toome and Mary Dowd. Wherever you are in this world, show

yourselves. You are welcome here."

There's nothing but the sound of water trickling along the cave's walls. No spirits. No

visions. I don't know whether to be relieved or a little disappointed in my lack of power.

I do not get the chance to ponder this dilemma for long. The air sparkles with random

bursts of light. Suddenly, it's as if the cave is on fire, flames leaping up, so hot I can't

catch my breath.

"No!" Using all my strength, I break the circle and find myself back in the cave while

Pippa, Ann, and Felicity look at me, stunned.

"Gemma, what's the matter?" Ann asks, breathing hard.

I'm panting.

"Oh, my. I think someone got a wee bit frightened," Felicity says.

"I suppose that's it," I say, sinking to the floor. My arms feel heavy, but I'm relieved that

nothing has happened.

"It's a curious thing, though," Pippa says. "But I could swear I felt a sort of tingling for a

moment."

"So did I," Felicity says in wonder.

Ann nods. "And I."

They all look at me. My heart's beating so hard I fear it will leap from my chest. I force a

calm I don't feel into my words. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Felicity puts the tip of her hair in her mouth, moistens it with her tongue. "You didn't feel

anything at all?"

"Nothing." I'm trying hard not to shake.

"Well," she says, with a triumphant smile. "It would seem that the rest of us have a bit of

magic in us. Pity about you, Gemma."

It's very funny, this moment. They think I've got no aptitude for the supernatural. I would

laugh, if I weren't so completely shaken.

"Heavens, Gemma," Pippa says, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "You're perspiring like a

docks worker."

"That's because it's too bloody hot in here," I say, relieved to change the subject.

Felicity stands and offers me her hand. "Come on. Let's claim the night."

We stumble out of the cave. Miles above us, the moon has started to wane, the edges

bitten off, but we bask in its light anyway, howling like wolves. We join hands and run

around in a circle, breathe the cold, mossy night air into lungs that can barely hold it all

in. I feel better straightaway.

"It's terribly hot. I can scarcely breathe in this corset," Felicity says.

"Yes, I wish we could take a dip in the lake," Ann says.

"Why can't we?" Felicity muses. "Who will unlace me? Anyone?"

Pippa covers her mouth and gives a little giggle as if she's both horribly embarrassed by

the idea and concerned about looking prudish. "We can't do that."

"Why not? There's no one to see us. And I want to breathe freely for a bit. Here, Gemma

—give us a hand."

My fingers fumble with the laces and grommets but soon Felicity's thin shift and the soft

skin beneath it are both exposed. She gleams in the moonlight, a sliver of bone. "Who

wants a dip in the lake, then?"

"Wait!" Pippa stumbles after her. "What are you doing? Felicity—this is obscene!"

"How can my ankles and arms be obscene?" she calls back.

"But you're not supposed to show them. It isn't decent!"

Felicity's voice floats out to us. "Do what you will. I'm going in."

The water looks cool and inviting. With effort, I manage to liberate myself from the tight

corset. My body expands in a thank-you.

"Not you, too?" Pippa says when I pass her.

The frigid water saps the heat from my body immediately, freezing the air in my lungs

into hard lumps. When I finally catch my breath, it's to tell Pippa and Ann, hoarsely,

"Come in. The waters perfect, as long as you don't need to breathe or feel your legs."

Pippa responds with a high-pitched shriek the minute she gets knee-deep.

"Shhh, keep your voice down. If Mrs. Nightwing finds us, she'll punish us by forcing us

to teach at Spence for the rest of our lives like that spinsterish, sour-faced crew she's got

teaching us now," Felicity says.

Pippa tries to cover herself with her hands. Her modesty is showing. Right now, I

wouldn't care if Prince Albert himself saw me. I only want to float here, suspended in

time.

"If you're that modest, Pip, get under the water," Felicity says.

"It's so cold!" Pippa answers in that same high-pitched voice.

"Suit yourself, then," Felicity says, swimming out to the middle of the lake.

Ann stays on the bank, fully clothed. "I'll keep a watch out," she says.

The rest of us link our arms for warmth and let our feet lick at the sandy bottom. We're

like a band of floating nomads.

"What do you suppose Mrs. Nightwing would say if she could see us now in all our

grace, charm, and beauty?" Pippa giggles.

"She'd probably fall over dead," Ann says.

"Ha!" Felicity says. "There's wishful thinking." She leans her head back, lets her hair

float out on the water like a halo.

Pippa's head is up like a shot. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" The lake water in my ears makes it hard to hear anything. But there it is.

The woods echo with the sound of a tree branch snapping in two.

"There it is again! Did you hear it?"

"Criminy," Ann croaks.

"Our clothes!" Pippa scrambles out of the water on heavy legs and runs for her chemise

just as Kartik steps out of the trees, carrying a makeshift cricket bat. I can't tell who is

more shocked and surprised—Kartik or Pippa.

"Avert your eyes!" she says in near hysteria, trying desperately to cover herself with the

bit of lace and cloth.

Too astonished to argue, Kartik does, but not before I've seen the look in his eyes.

Wonder and awe. As if he truly has seen a goddess made flesh. The visceral impact of her

beauty is more powerful than any word or deed. The cloudiness of my mind clears long

enough to record this.

"If this were ancient times, we would hunt you down and put out your eyes for what

you've seen," Felicity snarls from the lake.

Kartik says nothing. As quickly as he came upon us, he's gone, running through the

woods,

"Next time," Felicity says, moving to help Pippa, "we will put his eyes out."

The room is dark, but I know she's awake. There's none of her snoring.

"Ann, are you awake?" She doesn't answer, but I'm not giving up. "I know you are, so

you might as well respond." Silence. "I won't give up until you do." Outside, an owl

announces that he is near.

"Why do you do that to yourself? Cut yourself the way you do?"

There's no answer for a good long minute, and I think that perhaps she has fallen asleep

after all, but then it comes. Her voice, so soft I have to strain in the dark to hear it, to hear

the faint cry she's holding back.

"I don't know. Sometimes, I feel nothing, and I'm so afraid. Afraid I'll stop feeling

anything at all. I'll just slip away inside myself." There's a cough and a sniffling sound. "I

just need to feel something."

The owl makes his call in the night again, waiting to see if anyone is at home.

"No more doing that," I say. "Promise me?"

More sniffles. "All right."

It feels as if I should do something here. Put my arm around her. Offer a hug. I don't

know what to do that wouldn't horrify and embarrass us both.

"If you don't, I'll be forced to confiscate your needlepoint, and where would you be

without the satisfaction of finishing your little Dutch girl and windmill in seven different

colors of thread, hmmm?"

She gives a weak gurgle of a laugh, and I'm relieved.

"Gemma?" she says after a moment has passed.

"Hmmm?"

"You won't tell, will you?"

"No."

More secrets. How did I end up keeping so many? Satisfied, Ann shifts in her bed and the

familiar snoring begins. I stare at a patch of wall, willing sleep to come, listening to the

owl cry into a night that never answers.