The Sweet Far Thing (87 page)

“I will stay with the shape-shifter,” she repeats.

“Will you safeguard her, Asha?” I ask.

There is a moment’s pause. She bows her head. “You have my word.”

I let out the breath I was holding tightly.

“I will care for her even though I do not wish to,” she adds, orange flames dancing in reflection in her dark eyes. “And when you make your choice, Lady Hope, we Untouchables would have a voice in it.

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We have been silent too long.”

We gather our numbers, small though they are, perhaps forty in all. Philon and the forest folk take what weapons they have. It isn’t much—a crossbow, two dozen spears with blades at each end, shields, and swords. It is like trying to take down Parliament with only a thimble of gunpowder. I dearly wish I had that dagger.

“What is our best approach?” I ask.

“They ride toward the Borderlands,” Philon says.

Felicity gasps. “Pip.”

“You can’t save her,” Kartik says.

“Don’t tell me what I cannot do,” Felicity snaps.

I pull her aside. We stand by the water where two small boats still sit. “Felicity, we must get to the Winterlands as quickly as possible. We can see to Pip later.”

“But that may be too late! She doesn’t know what she’s up against,” Fee begs. “We have to warn her!”

“Dear Pippa,” Ann echoes.

I think of the burned garden, the bloodied flags we’ve seen marking the shore, the forest folk carried away. I would do anything to save Pip such a fate. But the risk is great. The Winterlands creatures could be lying in wait there. And for all I know, Pippa has joined with them.

“I’m sorry,” I say, turning away.

“You’re cruel!” Felicity screams after me. She starts to cry. I know I’ve done the right thing but I couldn’t feel worse about it, and I suppose that is part of what it is to lead.

I march beside Philon as the forest folk and the Hajin ready for battle. They carry weapons onto the ship. An Untouchable hoists a quiver of arrows onto his twisted back, and one of the forest creatures helps secure it. The centaurs offer their backs to whoever will ride.

Ann runs to me, out of breath.

“What is it?” I ask.

“She told me not to tell you, but I have to. It’s Felicity. She’s gone to warn Pippa.”

One of the small boats is missing.

“We have to go after her,” I say.

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“We can’t,” Kartik warns, but I’m already in motion.

“I won’t lose Fee. We need her. I need her,” I state.

“I’ll accompany you,” Miss McCleethy announces.

“And I as well,” Ann says.

Kartik shakes his head. “You’re mad if you think I’ll let you go without me.”

“Yes, I am mad. But you’ve known that for some time,” I say. He starts to object, and I silence him with a sudden kiss. “Trust me.”

Reluctantly, he lets me go, and the three of us push off in the remaining dinghy. Kartik stands on the shore, watching us drift out on the river. With the smoke and the fading flames behind him, he looks slightly unreal—a ghost, a flickering image in a magic-lantern show, a star falling to earth, a moment that can’t last.

I have the urge to turn the boat around and run back to him. But then the current catches us and we’re moving, carried swiftly toward the Borderlands and whatever waits for us there.

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

THE SKY BLEEDS RED OVER THEWINTERLANDS. IT CASTSan eerie light on the Borderlands, turning it the colors of a bruise. In the distance, the castle nestles in its robe of vines, like a pale hand hidden in the folds of a dress. I’m relieved that it’s still intact.

“Do you see Fee anywhere?” I whisper.

“No,” Ann answers. “I don’t see anyone.”

Carefully, we part the thorns in the bramble wall and slip inside. Miss McCleethy takes in everything with a nervous glance. “You’ve been coming here?”

I nod.

She shivers. “What a dismal spot.”

“It was very merry for a while,” Ann says sadly.

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We step quickly and quietly through the blue-tinged forest. The branches seem to be plucked of almost every berry, and what is left hangs in mealy clumps, forgotten. Maggots eat their way through the abandoned fruit. It makes my stomach turn.

Whoo-oot. Whoo-oot.

“What was that?” Miss McCleethy gasps.

“Don’t move,” I whisper.

We stay as still as statues. The call comes again.

Whoo-oot. Whoo-oot.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” Pip’s voice.

She steps out from behind a tree and is quickly flanked by Bessie, Mae, Mercy, and others I’ve not seen before. They fan around her like soldiers, carrying torches. It’s as if every bit of breath has been knocked from me. I’m forced to keep my hands behind my back, out of sight, to hide their trembling.

She has marked her face in the blue-black juice of the berries. The others wear similar markings that give their faces a skeletal appearance.

In the firelight, Pip’s eyes change from one state to the other, from violet to white, inviting to terrifying.

“Hello, Gemma. What brings you here?”

“I—I was looking for Fee,” I say.

She frowns playfully. “You’ve lost her, have you? Tsk-tsk, Gemma. How careless. Well, I suppose you’ll have to come have a look inside, then. Follow me.”

Pippa takes us to her castle like a conquering queen. She’s still lovely. She has the magic working for her, but she has not shared much of it with her disciples from what I can see. They ride behind her, tattered and torn, their skin going gray and ruined.

“Bessie,” I start, and she gives me a sharp shove.

“Keep movin’.”

The castle is as neglected as the forest. The vines crawl up the walls unhindered and drape across balustrades, hanging down in claws of green. Snakes thread through their mossy abundance.

“Where’s Felicity?” I ask again.

“Patience, patience.” Pippa hums while lining up goblets of berries along the altar.

Bessie sneers as she appraises Miss McCleethy. “’Oo’s she? Yer mum?”

“I am Miss McCleethy, a teacher at Spence Academy,” McCleethy answers.

Pip claps, giggling. “Miss McCleethy. You’re the one giving Gemma such trouble. You shall not give me any trouble at all.”

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“I shall give you a great deal of trouble if you do not tell us where to find Miss Worthington at once,”

Miss McCleethy insists.

“Don’t,” I warn.

“She needs a firm hand,” she whispers.

“She’s beyond that now,” Ann urges quietly.

“Shush!” Pippa says. “This is my castle. I am queen here. I make the rules.”

Mae reaches for a cluster of berries and Pippa shakes her head. “Mae, you know that is for the ritual.

They must be consecrated first.”

“Yes, miss.” Mae smiles, seemingly happy to have been upbraided by her god.

“Felicity!” I shout. “Fee!”

The castle’s walls creak and groan as if they shall fall in on us. A vine tightens across my boot and I yank my foot free.

“She’s in the tower,” Mae says. “Fer safekeepin’.”

“Pip,” Ann pleads, “you have to let her go. The Winterlands creatures are coming.”

“Not you too, Ann.” Pippa tuts.

“Pip…,” Ann starts.

“All I need do is offer a sacrifice. I tried with Wendy, but she made for a poor sacrifice, being blind.

And then you came back, and I knew…. I knew it was fate; don’t you see?

Miss McCleethy steps in front of me. “You can’t have her. Take me instead.”

“What are you doing?” I say.

“Gemma,” Miss McCleethy whispers, “whatever may happen, you must put aside your fear and safeguard the magic.”

Whatever may happen.
I do not like the sound of it.

“Sometimes we must make sacrifices for the greater good,” she says. “Promise me you’ll keep the magic safe.”

“I promise,” I say, but I don’t like it.

Pippa hums to herself. “A willing sacrifice. That’s very powerful magic indeed. I accept.”

The factory girls drag Miss McCleethy toward Pip.

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“Unhand me, you little hooligans!” she snarls, not so willing after all. She slaps Mae hard across the face, and Bessie responds with a blow of her own. Miss McCleethy falls to the ground, her ear bleeding, and the other girls join in with kicks and punches.

“Stop it!” I start for them, but Miss McCleethy holds out a bloody hand.

“Gemma, don’t!” she warns.

“Yes, that is enough,” Pippa says, as if she were waving away a second helping of soup. “Bring her to me.”

They half drag Miss McCleethy to the altar and tie her hands behind her back. Her lips bleed, and I see fear in her eyes, the dawning realization that she has sorely misjudged these girls.

“Will we suffer unbelievers?” Pip calls.

The girls answer with a clamor of nos. In their faces, I see such hate. It chills me to the bone. They no longer see us as human; we are the other, the threat that must be killed.

Pippa turns to Miss McCleethy with a sigh. “I’m afraid there is only one punishment for those who will not follow us.”

Bessie produces a shining sword. Its edge gleams in the light. The girls whoop and screech. Their primitive cries make a deafening clamor. Miss McCleethy struggles.

“No!” she shouts, kicking and trying to get away. But Mae and Mercy hold her fast, forcing her over the altar so that her head hangs free. My heart hammers against my ribs.

“Pippa, what are you doing?” I say, running for her.

Pippa blows me back with the force of her magic. Caught off guard, I fall to the floor in pain. The girls push Miss McCleethy’s head forward and expose the flesh of her neck.

“No!” I stagger to my feet, and before I can call the magic, Pippa unleashes hers. This time, I clatter to the ground like a toy. Miss McCleethy closes her eyes tightly; her mouth is set in a determined line. The blade is raised.

“Protect the mag—” she shouts just as the sword comes down with lightning swiftness.

Beside me, Ann screams and screams, her desperate shrieks blending into the crowd’s exultant shouts until it is impossible to tell where one leaves off and the other begins. I feel as if I shall vomit. My breath is ragged and tears prick my eyes. Ann sits perfectly still and stops screaming, shocked into total silence.

With a syrupy sigh, the vines wriggle forward and claim the headless body of Miss McCleethy. The girls kneel, hands clasped as if in prayer. Pippa stands before them, behind the altar. She raises a chalice over her head and brings it down again, mumbling words I cannot hear. She pulls a fat berry from the cup and places it gently into the waiting palms of Bessie. Slowly and solemnly she moves down the line, handing out a berry to each girl bowed before her.

“Who is the way?” she bellows.

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“Mistress Pippa!” they respond in unison. “She is the chosen one.”

“What is our task?”

“To eat the berries and stay in paradise.”

“Amen,” she says.

As one, the girls bring the berries to their mouths. They gobble them up.

Pip turns to us with her arms spread, her mouth open in a delirious smile. “I am sorry about your teacher, but she wouldn’t have been able to join with us. But I have faith in you. After all, you’ve come back. But you must be as we are, my darlings. Those who would follow me must eat the berries.”

I find my voice at last. “Pip, please listen. The Winterlands creatures mean to take over the realms. If you kill me, I cannot fight them.”

Bessie takes the steps to the tower and returns with a struggling Felicity, who kicks and screeches. She attempts to take a bite of Bessie, and Bessie hits her hard.

“Oh, Fee! You’re here. That’s jolly,” Pippa says as Fee looks at her in horror.

Pippa saunters over to us and places berries in our hands. She gives Ann a kiss on the forehead. “Ann, darling, why do you shake so? Are you cold?”

“Y-yes,” Ann whispers. Her lips tremble with sheer terror. “Cold.”

“Do you believe, darling? Do you believe that I am the chosen one?”

“Yes.” Ann nods, sobbing.

“And will you eat the berries? Will you accept my grace?”

“If you were truly the chosen one, you would not need to intimidate your believers,” I say. If I am to die, I will not go without a voice.

Pippa strokes my hair. “You’ve never liked me much, Gemma. I think you are jealous.”

“You may think what you like. We are in danger. All of us. The Winterlands creatures mean to rule the realms. They have already killed many of the tribes. They ride without mercy, taking the souls of those who will not join them.”