Chapter 30

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"Should be right… about… now" Felicity says, opening the curtain of scarves just in time

for us to hear Cecily's and Elizabeth's ear-piercing screams, followed by Mrs.

Nightwing's screeching, "Merciful heavens!"

They're completely naked, their clothes strewn about the room—a stocking thrown across

an ottoman, a chemise wadded upon the floor. When they realize their state, the two of

them squeal and try to cover themselves with their arms. Cecily actually attempts to use

Elizabeth as a human shield, while Elizabeth cries and pulls Cecily's hair.

"What is the meaning of this!" Mrs. Nightwing booms. The room erupts in shocked

giggles, gasps, and a round of pointing. Finally, Miss Moore covers their nakedness with

a blanket, and Mrs. Nightwing pulls them into the hall, where we can hear her voice

rising into a tone that's nearly operatic.

"Now, that was brilliant," Felicity says, snickering. Ann beams. Her revenge has been

sweet indeed. I've got that twisted feeling inside that comes from enjoying something I

know I'll regret later. I try not to think about it. My gaze falls on Miss Moore. It's

probably my guilty conscience coming to call, but the penetrating way she looks at me, I

could almost swear she knows what we've done.

Something Pippa has just said starts a fresh round of hysterics. I've missed it. I've been

watching Miss Moore stride toward us.

"Have we been set upon by hyenas?" she asks, poking her head inside the tent.

We try to compose ourselves,

"Forgive us, Miss Moore. We shouldn't laugh. That display was most shocking," Felicity

says, struggling to keep the giggle out of her voice.

"Yes. Shocking. And very strange," Miss Moore says. Her gaze falls on me again. I stare

at the floor. "May I come in?"

"Yes, please do," Pippa answers, making room inside.

"I've never been inside the inner sanctum before, Felicity. It's quite nice."

"I know another place that's far lovelier," Felicity answers. I flash her a warning glance.

"Really? Any place I might've been?"

"Oh, I don't think so. It's a secret place. A sort of private paradise." Felicity smiles

dreamily.

"Best not tell me, then. I don't know if I could be trusted in paradise."

She gives an almost girlish laugh. I try to imagine what Miss Moore must have been like

as a girl. Was she obedient?

Cruel? Rebellious? Shy? Did she have a good friend and a secret place where she found a

retreat from the world? Was she ever like us?

"What is this you're reading?" The diary is sitting out in plain view. Ann goes to snatch it

but Miss Moore is quicker. My heart is in my throat as Miss Moore turns the diary over in

her hands, examining it.

Felicity is quick. "It's just some silly romance. We found it in the library. After your

suggestion."

"Was this my suggestion?"

"Going to the library I mean."

Miss Moore opens the book. We don't dare look at each other.

" 'The Secret Diary of Mary Dowd.' My…" A page falls to the floor. "What's this?"

Dear God! The illustration! Felicity and I nearly knock each other down in our mad rush

to reach the forbidden image before she does.

"Nothing," Felicity says. "Just some doodling."

"I see." Miss Moore turns a page and then another.

"We take turns reading it aloud," Ann offers. We're squirming in our seats.

Miss Moore's eyes never leave the pages as she says, "Perhaps tonight I shall join you.

Would you indulge me?"

It's not as if we can say no.

"Of course," Felicity croaks. "I'll show you where we left off. We're almost to the end, I

believe."

Miss Moore's eyes scan the page in her hands. The waiting is interminable. I'm sure she's

going to march us off to Mrs.

Nightwing at any moment. But at last, her deep, warm voice fills the tent.

"April 6, 1871

"What we have done cannot be undone. Tonight, I went into the woods with Sarah. Night

bloomed, and the moon grew fat in the sky. It wasn't long before Mother Elena's child,

Carolina, came tripping along to us. We had promised her a dolly.

"'Have you brought my dolly back?'

"'Yes,' Sarah told her. 'She's clean and new and waiting for you just beyond these trees.

Come, Carolina, and we'll take you to her.'

"It was a most egregious lie and one that hid the dreadful purpose of our hearts.

"But the child believed us. She took our hands and wandered off happily with us, singing

a bit of an old tune.

"When we reached the school, she asked, 'Where is my dolly?'"

"'Inside! I said, my heart turning to stone.

"But the child was afraid and refused to go.

'"Your pretty dolly is missing you. And we've got lovely toffees, besides,' Sarah said.

"And I shall let you wear my pretty white pinafore,' I said, lacing her arms through and

tightening the ribbons at the back. 'My, how pretty you look.' This cheered her

considerably and she followed us into the cupola of the East Wing, where we set our

candles to burning."

Miss Moore pauses. The room falls silent. This is it. All that's left is for her to snap the

book shut and throw it on the fire. But she has only stopped to clear her throat, and in a

few seconds, she starts anew.

"'Where is my dolly?' the child whimpered, and Sarah threw the old rag doll to her. It

wasn't what she expected and she cried.

"'Shhh, shhh,' I said, trying to comfort her.

"'Leave her,' Sarah snapped. 'And let's to our purpose, Mary.'

"There is a time in every life when paths are chosen, character is forged. I could have

chosen a different path. But I didn't. I failed myself. While I held the child down, my

hand covering her mouth to silence those cries, Sarah called the beast from its hiding

place in the dark heart of the Winterlands. 'Come to us,' she cried, her arms lifted high.

'Come and grant me the power that should be mine.'

"And then, such a fearful thing. We were pulled into a vision then, into that twilight world

between this one and the next. A great black void approached, taking shape into the beast.

Oh, I would have run then if I'd only had legs to do so. The cries of the damned near to

stilled my heart. But Sarah smiled, lost to the pull of it. The child struggled hard against

me, terrified as she was, and I pressed my hand more firmly against her small face, trying

to shush her, to block out my own fear. Then slowly I raised my hand and covered the

small nose there as well. She knew what I intended then and she fought me. But it was

her life for ours, or so I saw it. I held fast to the child till her struggling ceased and she

lay still on the floor of the East Wing, her eyes wide open, dead to the world. A terrible

realization came over me at what I had done.

"The creature shrieked in anger. 'I needed her whole! Your sacrifice is worthless to me

now.'

"'But you promised…' I whispered.

"Sarah's eyes blazed. 'Mary, you have ruined everything! You never wanted me to have

the power, to be my sister! I should have known.'

"'I will have payment,' the creature cried, grabbing fast to Sarah's arm. She screamed and

then I did find my legs, oh, diary, found them and ran as the wind to Eugenia, told her all

as she grabbed her robe and candle. When we returned, the child lay there, a reminder of

my sin, but Sarah was gone.

"Eugenia's mouth tightened. 'We must hie to the Winterlands.'

"We found ourselves in that land of ice and fire, of thick, barren trees and perpetual night.

The creature had begun its work, Sarah's eyes turning black as stones. Eugenia stood tall.

"'Sarah Rees-Toome, you will not be lost to the Winterlands. Come back with me. Come

back.'

"The creature turned on her. 'She has invited me. She must pay, or the balance of the

realms is forfeit.'

"'I shall go in her place.'

"'No!' I shouted, even as the creature's mouth twisted from surprise into a hideous grin.

"'So be it. There is much we could do with one so powerful We could breach the other

world in time.'

"Sarah moaned then. Eugenia threw to me her amulet of the crescent eye. 'Mary, run!

Take Sarah with you through the door, and I shall close the realms!'

"The thing howled in fury. 'Never!'

"I could not move, could not think at all. 'No! You mustn't!' I cried. 'We cannot lose the

realms!'

"The thing caused her to cry out in pain then. Her eyes were filled with a pleading that

took my breath away, for I had never seen Eugenia frightened before. 'The realms must

stay closed until we can find our way again. Now—run!' she screamed. And oh, diary, I

did, pulling Sarah with me. Eugenia made the door appear for us, we jumped through to

safety, and the last I saw of Eugenia, she was shouting the spell to close the realms, even

as she was swallowed by the dark without a trace. The thing raced for us then. I placed

the amulet against the shape in the door, locking it fast.

"'Open the door again, Mary.' Sarah was on her feet. She'd been changed by the creature,

the two of them linked.

"'No, Sarah. The magic is gone now. We have ended it. Look.' The door of light began to

fade before us.

"She ran for me, turning the candle over. Within seconds, the room was ablaze. I cannot

say what happened next, for I ran from the East Wing, ran hard for the woods and

watched as a strange light filled the sky over it, watched the flames burn and my dearest

friend with it. So the magic of the Order and the realms is gone now. I can feel all traces

of it slipping from the world with the harsh first light of morning. It is gone and so is

Mary Dowd. She no longer exists.

"Tonight, she went into the woods, and I fear she shall live in the woods of my soul for

the rest of my days."

Miss Moore closes the book. We're speechless.

"Please go on," Pippa says, her voice a mere whisper.

Miss Moore riffles through the pages. "I can't. There is no more. That is where our story

ends, it would seem, in a dark wood." She stands and straightens her skirt. "Thank you

for sharing that with me, ladies. It was most interesting."

"I can't believe Mary killed that poor little girl," Ann says when we're alone again.

"Yes," Felicity says. "Who would do such a thing?"

"A monster," I say. She no longer exists. It's what my mother said. Something about that

creeps inside me and won't leave. I don't know why.

I can't sleep. There's still too much magic running in my veins, and the story of Mary and

Sarah has me feeling uneasy, as if I need to prove that what we're doing is different.

Good, I dress quickly and walk in the woods till I find myself just outside Kartik's tent,

where he sits reading.

I step from behind a tree, startling him. "What are you doing?" he asks.

"I couldn't sleep."

He goes back to his book. I want him to know that I am good, not like Mary and Sarah. I

would never do the horrible things they did. For some reason, I desperately want him to

like me. I want him to wake from dreams of me, sweating and alive. I can't say why. But I

do. "Kartik, what if I could show you that the Rakshana is wrong? What if I could prove

to you that my power, the magic of the Order, is wonderful?"

His eyes widen. "Tell me you haven't done what I think you've done."

I step forward. I don't recognize my voice, it is so desperate and near tears. "There's

nothing wrong with it. It's beautiful. I'm…" I want to say "beautiful," but I don't because

I'm on the verge of crying.

He shakes his head, backs away. I'm losing him. I should let it alone. Go away. Stop. But

I can't.

"Let me show you. I'll take you with me. We could look for your brother!"

I reach for his hand but he practically leaps to the other side of the tent. "No. It's not for

me to see. Not for me to know."

"Just take my hand. Please!"

"No!"

Why did I think I could win him over? Why did I think I could make him see me

differently? Worse, what if the way he sees me is the way I really am—someone to be

wary of, not loved? A sideshow abomination. A monster.

I turn and run as fast as I can, and he doesn't chase me.

I'm making that long, miserable climb up to my room when Brigid stops me, candle in

hand, nightcap on head. "Who goes there?"

"It's only me, Brigid," I say, hoping she doesn't get any closer and notice I'm fully

dressed.

"Wot are you doin' skulkin' round in the dead o' night?"

"Please don't tell Mrs. Nightwing. It's just that I couldn't sleep."

"Thinkin' about your mum, then?"

I nod, feeling craven for the lie.

"All right. It's just between you and me. But get yourself to bed."

It breaks me, this sudden kindness from Brigid. I can feel my borders unraveling.

"Goodnight," I whisper, passing her on my way up.

"Oh, by the way, I thought of that fancy name. The one Sarah started callin' herself. Came

to me clear as day as I was doin' the washing up tonight, I remembered Missus Spence

tellin' me, 'Oh, our Sarah thinks she's a goddess of old, just like the Greeks.' That's when

it come to me, when I was washin' up the china cups with the Greek key pattern."

"Yes?" I ask. I'm suddenly very tired and not in the mood for one of Brigid's long-winded

stories.

"Circe," she says, descending the stairs, her shadow just ahead of her. "That were the

name she used to call herself—Circe."

Circe is Sarah Rees-Toome.

Sarah Rees-Toome, who did not die in a fire twenty years ago, but who is alive and well

and waiting for me. She is no longer a shadowy enemy but flesh and blood. Someone I

could get to before she gets to me. If only I had some idea where she could be or what

she must look like.

But I don't. I am completely at her mercy.

Or am I?

Circe, Sarah Rees-Toome, was once a Spence girl, class of 1871. A girl in a photograph

that has been removed but still exists somewhere. Finding that photograph is no longer a

matter of curiosity. It is a necessity, my only means of finding her before she finds me.