A Great And Terrible Beauty (33 page)

“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.”

“
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?”