Chapter 29

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Mr. Bumble comes to call for Pippa at eleven o'clock sharp. He's well turned out in his

handsome black coat, crisp shirt, and cravat, clean white spats protecting his shoes, and a

brushed bowler in his hand. If I didn't know better, I'd suspect that he was a doting father

come to call on his young daughter, not his future wife.

Mrs. Nightwing has readied a small sitting room. She's got her knitting so that she can sit

in a corner as the silent chaperone. But we've thought of this, too. Felicity is having a

sudden, all-consuming attack of stomach pains. She's upstairs writhing in agony on her

bed. Appendicitis is feared, and Mrs. Nightwing has no choice but to rush to her bedside

at once. Which leaves me to act as chaperone in the interim. And so I find myself sitting

quietly with a book as a rose-colored teacup trembles in Pippa's hands.

Mr. Bumble watches her as if he's appraising a piece of land he might buy. "I take it your

ring is most satisfactory?"

It's not a question but a chance to be complimented on his taste.

"Oh yes," Pippa says, distracted.

"And your family? They're well?"

"Yes, thank you."

I cough, flash Pippa an urging look. Go ahead—get on with it. Upon hearing my cough,

Mr. Bumble gives me a weak smile. I cough again and dive into my book.

"And I trust you are well?" he presses.

"Oh, yes," Pippa says. "Well, no."

Here we go.

His teacup stops mid-sip. "Oh? Nothing serious, I trust, my dear."

Pippa brings her handkerchief to her mouth as if overcome. I could swear she's worked

up real tears. She's very good and I must say that I am quite impressed.

"What is it, my dear? You must unburden yourself to me, your fiancé."

"How can I when I've worked to deceive you!"

He draws back a bit, his voice suddenly cool. "Go on. How is it that you have deceived

me?"

"It's my affliction, you see. I have terrible seizures that could come on at any time."

Mr. Bumble stiffens. "How—how long have you had this… affliction?" His well-bred

lips can scarcely say it.

"All my life, I'm afraid. My poor mother and father have suffered so. But as you are such

an honorable man, I find that my heart will not permit me to continue this deceit."

Bravo, The British stage is missing a fine actress in Pippa. She gives me a sideways

glance. I smile in approval.

Mr. Bumble looks exactly like a man who has bought a fine piece of china, only to bring

it home and discover the crack. "I am an honorable man. One who honors his

commitments. I shall speak to your parents at once."

Pippa grabs hold of his hand. "Oh, no. Please! They would never forgive me for telling

you the truth. Please understand that I'm only looking out for your welfare."

She's giving him her large, pleading eyes. Her charms have the desired effect.

"You do understand that if I were to break this engagement, your reputation—your very

virtue—would be called into question."

Ah, yes. Wouldn't want us if the old virtue were questionable. Heaven forbid.

"Yes," Pippa says, eyes downcast. "That is why I think it would be best for me to refuse

you" She slides the ring from her finger and drops it into his palm. I wait to see if he will

beg her to reconsider, if he will pledge his love in spite of her ailment. But he seems

relieved, his tone imperious.

"What shall I say to your parents, then?"

"Say that I am too young and foolish to take as a wife and that you have been noble

enough to allow me to end things and save my reputation. They will not press you."

Pippa has never been lovelier than she is at this moment, with her head held high, her

eyes shining in triumph. For once, she's not flowing with the current but swimming

against it.

"Very well, then."

Mrs. Nightwing enters. "Oh, Mr. Bumble, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. One of our

girls had a bit of the hysterics, but she seems to be fine now."

"It's no matter, Mrs. Nightwing. I was just leaving."

"Already?" Mrs. Nightwing is quite flummoxed.

"Yes. I'm afraid I have a pressing matter that needs my attention. Ladies, good day to

you."

Confused but duty-bound, Mrs. Nightwing sees him out.

"How was I?" Pippa asks, sinking into the chair like lead.

"Brilliant. Miss Lily Trimble herself couldn't have done better."

Pippa surveys her bare finger. "Pity about the ring, though."

"You could have waited till he asked to have it back!"

"He wouldn't have, though."

"Exactly my point!"

We're laughing when Mrs. Nightwing enters, suspicious and predatory. "Pippa, is all as it

was between you and Mr. Bumble?"

Pippa swallows hard. "Yes, Mrs. Nightwing."

"Then where, pray tell, has your ring gone to?"

We hadn't gotten this far in our planning—how to explain the loss of the ring to everyone.

Now we're stuck, I fear. But Pippa lifts her chin, the faintest hint of a smile beginning to

show.

"Oh, that. He noticed a flaw."

We sit, sheltered by the colorful scarves of Felicity's private salon. Pippa and I are giving

an account of the morning's adventure with Mr. Bumble in rapid, sometimes overlapping

detail.

"And then Pippa said…"

"… he found a flaw!"

We laugh till no sound comes out of our mouths, till our sides ache from it.

"Oh, that's sublime," Felicity says, wiping a tear from her eye. "Let us hope that is the last

we shall see of the unfortunate Mr. Bumble."

"Mrs. Bartleby Bumble." Pip spits out the hard Bs. "Can you imagine the horror of that?"

We laugh again and our laughter drifts down into sighs.

"Gemma, I want to go again," Felicity says when it's quiet.

Ann nods. "Me too."

"It might be pressing our luck to do it again so soon," I say.

"Do be a sport," Ann pleads.

Felicity nods. "Yes, after all, nothing terrible happened. And think of how marvelous it's

been having all that power at our fingertips. Perhaps your mother was simply doing what

mothers do best—worrying needlessly."

"Perhaps," I say. I must admit that I'm in love with the feeling the magic of the runes

provides. One more visit to them can't hurt. And then I promise I'll stop and do as my

mother says. "All right, then," I say. "The caves it is."

"Oh, honestly, I'm too tired to run off to the woods tonight," Pippa groans.

"We could do it right now. Right here," Felicity says.

Pippa's eyes widen. "Are you mad? With Mrs. Nightwing and all the others around us?"

Felicity lifts a section of scarf with her finger. Crowded around the warm fire in clumps

of threes and fours, the others are oblivious to us. "They'll never know we were gone."

We take that ride on the mountaintop, falling into ourselves without trying to stop. I have

only one rough moment, I'm a mermaid, rising from the sparkling sea, but when I look

down, the water is my mother's face, tight and fearful. I'm suddenly afraid and wish I

could stop. But in the next moment we're swept away to Felicity's tent. Our eyes are

shining, our skin is rosy, our all-knowing smiles are back. Our bodies feel like luxurious

sighs as we stand in the great hall, completely invisible.

Oh, God, the great and terrible beauty of it. Around us, the motion of the room has

slowed to the lethargic tempo of a music box coming unwound. Their voices are deep and

every word seems to take a lifetime to say. Mrs. Nightwing sits in her chair, reading

David Copperfield aloud to the younger girls. The temptation is too much for me. I touch

her arm, ever so slightly. She doesn't stop reading, but slowly, slowly, her free hand lifts

and comes to rest on the spot I've touched. She scratches at the place where my hand has

been, an irritation like an insect bite she's reacted to and forgotten again. It's

extraordinary.

Pippa lets out with a tiny whelp of joy. "They can't see us! It's as if we're not really here!

Oh, the things I'd like to do…"

"Why not do them?" Felicity says, arching a brow. With that, she reaches over and flips

the book in Mrs. Nightwing's hands so that it is upside down. It takes Mrs. Nightwing a

moment to register what has happened, but when she does, she's completely perplexed.

The girls at her feet cover their mouths with their hands to suppress their giggles.

"Why is everything so slow?" I say, leaning my hand against a marble column. It

wriggles beneath my hand and I pull it back fast.

The column is alive.

Hundreds of tiny marble fairies and satyrs move on the surface. An odious little gargoyle

unfurls his wings, cocks his head to one side. "You see things the way they really are

now," he says. "The others think this is only dreaming. But they live in the dream, not

us." He spits and wipes his nose on his wing.

"Ugh," Felicity says. "Disgusting. I'm tempted to squash him."

With a screech, the gargoyle is off, flying higher on the column.

A glimmering fairy boy with yellow eyes smiles up at me. "Why don't you free us, then?"

His voice is a soft murmur.

"Free you?"

"We're trapped here. Free us—just for a moment, long enough to stretch our wings."

"All right," I say. It seems a reasonable request, after all. "You are free."

With screeches and yelps, the fairies and nymphs run down the column like water till

they're scurrying about the floor, scavenging bits of cheese, hunks of bread, the odd

checker piece. It's madness with all these creatures running and flying about.

"Gracious!" Pippa squeals.

A satyr the size of my thumb strides to a girl seated on the rug. He peeks under the hem

of her dress, lets loose with a lascivious howl.

"So sweet and plump," he growls.

"What filthy creatures," Felicity says, laughing. "The ladies of Spence are in for a very

naughty treat."

"We can't let them do this," I say, half-laughing myself at their pranks. As the satyr climbs

the girl's calf, I pick him up with my fingers. "Oh, no you don't," I chide merrily.

He writhes and curses in protest. In an instant, his face transforms into a demonic mask

and he sinks his sharp teeth into the tender skin of my wrist. With a cry of pain, I drop

him. Is it my imagination, or is he suddenly larger? Felicity gasps beside me, and now I

know it's true—the beast is growing. He looms over us, his horned head touching the

ceiling.

"Let's see how you taste, sweet or sour," he hisses in a deep, gravelly voice.

"What's happening?" Pippa shrieks. "Make it stop!"

"Stop, this instant!" I shout. The satyr only laughs to see us so frightened.

Pippa is pawing at me in her fright. "It isn't working! Why isn't it working?"

"I don't know!" I shout back. Using the magic is more complicated than I thought.

"I knew this was a bad idea," Pippa chides. Wasn't she the one begging to do it only

moments earlier?

"We've got to get them back on the columns," Felicity screeches.

A gargoyle hops onto my leg. In one quick motion, I grab him by the wings and rush to

the fireplace, where I hold the naughty beast over the fire. He screams in terror.

"Tell me how to undo it." He curses at me, and I lower him just a bit, till the flames lick

at his legs. "Tell me or I shall drop you in!"

The gargoyle calls out to his friends for help, but the satyr only laughs. "Proceed. What's

one less gargoyle in the world? It should prove most amusing."

I lower the creature another inch. "Tell me!"

He screams. "Yes, yes! I shall tell you! Repeat after me: For your lies in marble shall you

lie …"

A bare-breasted nymph hops onto the mantel. "You bastard! Don't tell her any more!"

"For a thousand years and never die…"

The nymph tries to swipe at him, misses and falls into the fire, which accepts her with a

crackle and hiss.

Wide-eyed, the gargoyle yells, "That's it. That's the phrase!"

"Go on, then! Say it!" Felicity shouts. The satyr has them cornered.

Dry-mouthed, I start. "For your lies in marble shall you lie…"

The most hideous screeches fill the room. The beasties like their freedom. My heart is

beating as fast as their wings, and the next part comes out in a rush. "For a thousand years

and never die!"

Inches from me, the satyr shrinks till he's no more than thimble-sized again. Fairies,

nymphs, gargoyles, and satyrs whoosh past us, flying backward through the air, till they

stick fast to the columns, shrieking the entire way. They spit and curse us. Slowly, the

marble freezes them into silence, their angry faces and open mouths the only testament to

what has just happened.

I'm shaking and sweat-drenched. We all look a fright.

Pippa shudders. "I never did like this room. Now I know why."

"I think I've had enough magic for one night," Felicity says, wiping her brow with the

back of her hand.

Only Ann disagrees. She lingers near Cecily and Elizabeth. "One last bit of fun."

"What are you going to do?" Pippa asks.

Ann smiles. "Nothing they don't deserve."