Born Wicked: The Cahill Witch Chronicles, Book One: The Cahill Witch Chronicles, Book One (24 page)

Finn rushes to the window and peers out at the street. When he turns back, his eyes look pained. “The guards are making another arrest,” he says.
The woman shrieks again. This time it’s cut off abruptly with a sharp crack.
Marianne goes pale. “Who is it?” she asks.
Finn’s face furrows. Soon, he’ll be complicit in this. “Brenna Elliott.”
My heart sinks. “I have to see.”
Marianne throws open the front door and goes out. She stops on the front stoop, clutching the cast-iron railing with white-knuckled hands.
Across the street, Brenna’s cowering on the cobblestones. Beneath her cloak, her sunny yellow hem is splattered with mud. A white handprint is stark on her red, tear-stained cheek. As I watch, two of the Brothers’ hulking guards advance toward her. She scrambles backward on her hands and knees and lands in the gutter.
There’s a crowd gathering. “Witch! Witch!” Cries go up—some high and excited with the sport of it, some low and hateful. A boy throws a rock at her. His aim is true—it hits her on the forehead. Blood trickles down her face.
One of the guards snatches her roughly by the arm. Brenna screams. Her mop of tangled brown hair falls into her bloody face. The guard slaps her again and she goes silent.
The guards hold her up, one on each side. She’s shaking like a new tree in a thunderstorm.
Brother Ishida steps forward. “This girl is mad. She will be taken back to Harwood Asylum straightaway.”
Brenna rocks, keening to herself like a wounded animal.
“No!” Rory runs down the street, resplendent in a red dress. She didn’t even take time to throw on her cloak. “Brenna!”
Sachi darts forward and yanks Rory back into the crowd.
Brother Ishida turns to the group gathered on the street. “Miss Elliott believes that she can see into the future. What is that but presumption, for a weak woman to think she can do the work of the Lord? At her grandfather’s behest, we allowed her to come back to her family. We hoped she had been cured, but our leniency has not been rewarded. It is for the good of our community that we send the wretched soul back.”
I turn on my heel and go back into the shop. I can’t stand to see any more.
Finn follows me and closes the door behind us. He pulls me behind the first row of bookshelves and then wraps his arms around me. I’m dry eyed but shaking with the horror of what’s just happened.
“You’re safe,” he says, over and over, stroking my back. “You’re safe. I’ll never let them do that to you.”
I’m not certain which of us he means to comfort.

It’s already well past two when I leave the bookshop. I’m going to be late for my appointment with Elena. I apologize to John for keeping him and the carriage waiting, and on the way home I go over the plan Marianne and I have worked out. I’ll explain about Brenna’s apprehension, how awful it was. It won’t be hard to show my distress. I’ll plead that I’m too upset to have a magic lesson today. No matter how loyal Elena is to the Sisterhood, she can’t want a frightened, unfocused witch wreaking havoc with her memory. I’ll promise her that tomorrow, after church, I’ll cooperate.

By then I’ll have announced my engagement to Finn—the newest candidate for the Brothers—and it will be too late for her to force me into joining the Sisters.
After I appease Elena, I’ll go to Maura and Tess. I’ll tell them about the prophecy, show them Mother’s diary and her letter. They’ll be furious with me for not telling them sooner, but faced with Mother’s warnings, they’ll understand. They have to. Maura might not believe me, but she’ll listen to Mother. She’ll see that the Sisters don’t have our best interests at heart—that we have to stay together, here in Chatham, and look out for one another.
I’ll tell them about Finn last. I hope they’ll be happy for me.
I feel a great swell of gladness as the carriage comes up the drive. The house is still there—white, gabled, surrounded by maples shedding their summer skins. Home. I want to grab up handfuls of dirt and kiss it. I won’t have to leave after all. Not far, anyway.
I hurry into the rose garden, ready to make my excuses to Elena.
Only she’s not there.
Drat. I hurry inside. The sitting room is empty. Tess is reading in Father’s study. Upstairs, Elena’s room is empty. The one time I actually want the nuisance and she’s nowhere to be found.
Annoyed, I throw open Maura’s door without knocking.
“Maura, have you—?”
I stop, stunned. Maura and Elena are sitting close together on the wooden window seat. Their skirts spill against each other, Elena’s peony-pink and Maura’s cream, a froth of lace and silk.
Maura has her hand on the curve of Elena’s cheek. Her lips on Elena’s lips.

I never dreamed—but Elena is everything Maura wants to be: cultured and clever, pretty and powerful. She’s paid Maura attention, encouraged her, listened to her and made much of her when no one else would.
When I put it that way, I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.
I drop onto my settee, head in my hands. Oh, this is going to complicate things. And Maura—is her interest in kissing girls specific to Elena? Is this just a schoolgirl crush, or something more? I think back over all her protestations against marriage, and I feel very guilty. She’s right; she’s been trying to tell me something, and I haven’t been listening.
Maura comes to my room. Her cheeks are flushed, but her berry mouth is tilting up at the corners. She looks happy. Slightly mortified, but happy. She closes the door and stands on the flowered rug I took from Mother’s rooms.
“How long has this been going on?” I ask. I have to know how compromised she is.
Maura’s hands flutter like nervous birds. “Just now—that was the first time—but I’ve wanted to—I’m mad about her, Cate.”
“Oh, Maura. Why didn’t you tell me?” I lean back against the settee, remembering the girls from the register, the ones who were caught kissing in the blueberry fields.
“I’ve tried! I told you how wonderful and clever she is, but you wouldn’t hear it. You don’t listen to me, Cate. Elena
listens
.”
I hate saying it, I hate hurting her like this, but she has to know. “Because she wants something from you.”
Maura’s mouth falls open. “Do you truly think so little of me,” she gasps, “that I couldn’t tell whether her feelings are genuine? Do you think I’m so awful no one could love me?”
“Of course not! Someone
will
love you someday, and it will be grand, and he’ll be lucky. Or she,” I correct myself. “But it’s not Elena.”
“How do you know what her feelings are? I know it’s—unconventional, but we’ve been spending so much time together. We’ve never been like pupil and student; we’ve been friends right from the start, and now—”
“She was sent here to
spy
on us. That’s not paranoia; it’s truth. I was supposed to meet her this afternoon in the garden for a magic lesson, and I was late. The Sisterhood wants me to join them and they’ll use you to get to me. Elena told me that, Maura, straight-out. They would hurt you if they thought it would make me fall in line.”
“Liar!” Maura’s eyes narrow into sapphire slits. “She’d never hurt me.”
“She would,” I sigh. “She doesn’t want to, but her first loyalty is to the Sisterhood.”
“I don’t believe you,” Maura snaps. “Besides, why would they want
you
?”
I shrink back from the scorn in her voice. “I found Mother’s diary. She wrote about a prophecy—it was made before the Great Temple fell. It says that before the twentieth century arrives, there will be three sisters, and one of them will be the most powerful witch in centuries. The Sisterhood thinks
we
might be those sisters. They want to get their hands on us before the Brothers find us.
That’s
why Elena’s here.”
Maura paces across my room while I talk, back and forth, back and forth, between bed and window. “What makes you think it’s you? It could just as easily be me. Or Tess.”
I shake my head. “The prophecy said the most powerful can do mind-magic. And I—well, I can. Since I was little.”
Maura pauses, one hand flying to her mouth. “Have you ever used it on me?”
“No! Of course not.” I glare at her. “I’ve only used it once. To keep Father from sending me away to school. Elena—she wants to make me join the Sisters so they can use it against the Brotherhood.” I reach into my pocket, touch the ruby ring hidden there. “Their cause is important, Maura. I believe that. But it’s not as important to me as you and Tess. It’s not right that they’d use you to force my hand.”
Maura shakes her head, her red braid whipping back and forth. A little smile plays at her lips. “You’re wrong. She’s not using me to get to you.”
“I’m not making it up. Do you truly think I’d go to these lengths just to keep you from seeing a governess?” I throw my hands up, exasperated. “You can see Mother’s diary if you want.”
I start for my bureau, where I’ve magicked away the diary, but Maura stops me. “I don’t need to see it. Even if this prophecy is true, I know what I feel, and that’s true, too. I don’t care what the Sisters would do to me. I want to go back to New London with Elena. I’m in love with her, Cate, and she loves me back. She hasn’t said it yet, but—”
Anger simmers through me. “She’s manipulating you, Maura. She has been from the very first! I’m going to dismiss her right now.”
“You can’t!” Maura steps between me and the door.
I lean against the wooden bedpost, suddenly exhausted. I don’t have the energy for another row with Maura. I hate fighting with her; I hate the distance that’s sprung up between us since Elena arrived—before that, if I’m honest with myself. It’s easy to blame Elena, but we’ve been at each other’s throats for months.
Sympathy washes over me. Maura’s so lonely. So mind-numbingly bored. She doesn’t want to marry. She deserves to go somewhere she can use her talents—somewhere she belongs. If that’s with the Sisters, so be it. I should let her go without putting up a fuss.
I push the curtains aside and stare out the window. I can see the rose garden from here, the goldenrod and evergreens forming a neat, protective square around the bright pink and red and cream-colored roses. Around the bench where I first learned to do magic, at the feet of my mother and Athena.
I put a hand to my temple, blinking. There was something—what was I thinking?
“Are you all right?” Maura asks. Her concerned eyes are trained on my face.
“My head—” It’s such a peculiar sensation. Like there’s something tugging on it. Not at my hair—inside. It’s terribly strange.
Maura slides her arm around my shoulder and guides me to the bed, smoothing the rumpled blue quilt. “You look tired. Why don’t you take a nap before supper?”
My mind feels fuzzy. Wasn’t I angry with her a moment ago? I don’t remember why; she’s being so sweet. There was something wrong, something I meant to do, but I can’t remember—
I push at the tugging in my head, and it dissipates.
Just like a glamour made by a witch who’s not quite as powerful as me.
Maura kissed Elena. I was going to dismiss her and then—
No. Maura wouldn’t.
I look up at my sister, her sapphire eyes still focused on me.
I can feel it plainly now, her pull on my memory.
“How. Dare. You?” I explode, pushing her away. She falls back against my dressing table and knocks over a little bottle of lavender water. It rolls off the table and smashes, dousing the room in scent.
“Stop it. I know what you’re up to,” I snap.
Maura’s face falls. She backs away, toward the door. “I was only—”
“Don’t you dare make excuses! I’ve never used magic against you. Never!”
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. It’s all right. I can still remember. It didn’t work; she’s not strong enough.
But what if it
had
worked? I turn to Maura, sick and furious. I will never do this to someone I love. Never again.
“Does Elena know you can do that?” Has Elena been playing us against each other all along, waiting to see which of us was the most powerful?
Maura nods. “She taught me herself. She was proud of me, how fast I caught on. But—” Doubt flickers over her face. “It doesn’t matter. That’s not why she likes me, Cate.”
I head for the door. Every moment Elena’s in this house is one moment too long.
“Where are you going?” Maura runs behind me, pulling at my elbow.
I rip my arm away. “Don’t touch me.”
Maura is crying now, tears pooling in her eyes. “Cate, it’s not her fault! I’m the one who did it.”
“Do you think that makes it any better?”
Maura leaps in front of me, barring the way. I shove her, hard, and she falls back against the wall.
I throw open the door to Elena’s room without knocking. She’s sitting in her green armchair by the fire, needle flashing through some sewing in her hands.
“I want you out of my house. Now.” My voice is so cold, I don’t recognize it.
“You can’t do that!” Maura’s tears are falling freely now.
I close the door—no point in the servants overhearing this quarrel. “I’m the mistress of the house; I can do whatever I like. That includes dismissing servants who displease me. Miss Robichaud, we are no longer in need of your services.”
Elena looks at me, quietly calculating the strength of my order. I stare her down. Will she try to compel me, too? Is she capable of it?
Maura pushes past me to stand next to Elena. “Father won’t like this, Cate.”
“He’s not the one who has to live here.”
Maura puts one hand on the back of Elena’s chair, protective. She juts her chin at me. “I’ll write and tell him and he’ll have to cut his trip short.”
“Good,” I say coolly, planting my hands on my hips. “Perhaps he can talk some sense into you. Or do you plan to try and bewitch him, too?”
“You act like I’ve gone beyond the pale. You just said you’ve done it yourself!” Maura shouts.
My jaw drops. I stare at her, disbelieving, furious.
Elena slides her needle neatly into her sewing and puts it aside. “Maura, you tried to compel Cate? But it was unsuccessful?”
“Yes,” Maura says uncertainly. The doubt in her eyes is growing. “Does that matter?”
“Insofar as it means that Cate’s the stronger witch. It’s quite extraordinary, that both of you are capable of mind-magic. I’ve never heard of a precedent,” Elena breathes. She walks toward me but stops a few feet away, at the edge of her canopy bed, her eyes wary. “I’m sorry that I went behind your back and taught your sister, Cate. I know you haven’t trusted that our intentions are honorable, but—”
“Honorable? You kissed my sister!” I explode. The magic sways up, dizzying. I’d love to make that needle prick her. To smash all the pretty little bottles of scented water on her dressing table. To show her just how powerful I can be. I close my eyes for a moment, summoning up every ounce of self-control I possess.
“What’s going on?” Tess squeezes in the door, closing it behind her. “Why is everyone shouting?”
I point a finger at Maura, hovering over Elena’s empty chair. “Tell her! You tell her what you did. And you.” I whirl on Elena. “I want you out of this house. Now.”
“You can’t just throw her out on the street,” Maura says, hurrying to her side.
I ignore her, my eyes clashing with Elena’s. “I’ll give you until dusk to pack your things. John will drive you to the train station. We have some money for household emergencies; it ought to be enough to pay your way back to New London.”
“If you make her leave, I’ll go with her,” Maura threatens.
I draw myself up, taller than everyone else in this room. Stronger. “Maura’s not the one you want. I’m more powerful than her; I’ve proved it twice over. I swear I’ll fight you every step of the way unless you tell her the truth. Your superiors in the Sisterhood might not mind your tactics, but I do. Letting her think you care for her won’t win you any favors if I’m ever in a position of power.”
Elena looks at me for a long moment. She’s an ambitious woman; I hope I’ve chosen the right threat, the one that will mean something to her.
Finally, she turns to Maura. Puts a hand on her ruffled cream sleeve. “Maura,” she says, “I think you’ve misunderstood my feelings.”
Maura’s blue eyes fill with tears. “Don’t say that,” she begs, taking Elena’s other hand. “Don’t listen to Cate. Please. I—I love you!”
Beside me, Tess lets out a little hiss of surprise.
“I’m flattered by your regard,” Elena says, pulling away, “but I don’t return it.”
Maura reaches out a hand, then lets it fall. The same hand that cradled Elena’s face so gently. “But you kissed me!”
Elena shakes her head. Despite all the fuss, she still looks perfect as a china doll, not a single curl out of place. “You took me by surprise. It was a mistake.”
Maura looks past Elena to me. “You were right,” she snaps, running from the room. “Are you happy now?”
The three of us stand in silence. Across the hall, Maura’s door slams so hard, the floor rattles. “Possibly we could have handled that better,” Elena says. She opens her armoire and pulls out her valise. “You can make me go, but they’ll only send someone else. I’ll tell them what I’ve learned. You can’t pretend this isn’t happening, Cate. You will find it easier to come willingly.”
“And if I don’t?” I want Tess to hear her say it.
“The Sisters would rather not force your hand. But if they have to, they will do everything in their power to convince you. And their power is considerable. They will not hesitate to use Maura and Tess.” Elena gathers her things from the dressing table. “I’m sorry to say that, Tess. It’s not how I would have things go.”
“But you won’t stop them, will you? Which means I can’t have you in this house. Pack your things and get out,” I snap. “Tess, come with me.”
Tess has been standing back, leaning against the tulip-flowered wallpaper, taking everything in with her observant little storm-cloud eyes. She follows me down the hall to my room. I can hear Maura sobbing behind her door, and my stomach twists.
Tess perches on my bed, swinging her slippers over the edge. “You’ve been keeping things from us. Tell me everything,” she says. And I do. There’s a knock on my door before supper. Tess is still here, lying across the settee on her stomach, reading Mother’s diary with a frown of intense concentration.
“Miss Cate!” It’s Mrs. O’Hare. Why has she climbed the stairs instead of sending Lily? “You’ve a caller. Brother Ishida is here to see you.”
Tess sits up, alarm written all over her face.
“It’s nothing,” I say. “We haven’t done anything.”
Unless Sachi’s told her father. Unless Brenna’s tattled. Unless—
No. More likely, it’s the second phase of the Belastras’ plan in action.
“Try to tell Maura he’s here, if she’ll open her door,” I tell Tess. “We don’t need another scene.”
I fix my hair in the looking glass and head downstairs to the sitting room.
A heavy wind’s sprung up, sending leaves raining to the ground. Trees tap against the windowpanes with newly bare fingers. The curtains swirl into the sitting room like malevolent blue ghosts. I cross the room and shut the window. Brother Ishida is standing before the fire, his back to me.
He turns and smiles. “Good evening, Miss Cahill.”
“Good evening, sir.”
It’s not until he gives an impatient gesture toward the floor that I realize what he’s waiting for. I go to my knees before him, padding them with my skirts. It’s hateful, pretending obeisance to a man I neither like nor respect. I think of how he fathered Rory out of wedlock, how he’s allowed himself to be blackmailed by her mother, how he drove Mrs. Clay out of town when she became a liability. It’s all I can do not to cringe when he lays a hand on my brow. His fingers feel too soft for a man.