I look up at Inez. My emotions are churning, sending blood pumping through my veins. My stomach tumbles and my face flushes as my brain scrambles to think up ways to stop this. I will not see Rory and Sachi hanged. But Inez looks—calm. Her hands rest on the back of her wooden chair without trembling.
“They’re doing this because of you,” I say. Several of the younger girls gasp at my impudence. “Because of what you did to the Head Council.”
“That’s a heavy accusation, Miss Cahill.” Inez purses her thin lips. “Do you think this is what I wanted? To see sixty innocent girls suffer? No. Those girls would still be safe in their beds if you and your friends had not freed them.”
“Safe in our beds?” Parvati leaps to her feet. “No. We were never safe there.”
“The fact remains—I am hardly responsible for this. If you wish to blame someone for the Brothers’ sudden violence, Miss Cahill, I suggest you look in the mirror.” Inez sniffs. “I regret what the Brothers are planning to do, but it is not our obligation to stop it. Most of those girls are not witches. They are not our responsibility.”
Sister Edith, the skinny art teacher, steps forward. “If they’re not witches, that makes it worse. They’re being murdered for crimes we’ve committed!”
“It’s unfortunate,” Inez admits, her eyes roving over the huddled group of girls. “But as head of the Sisterhood, my charge during these difficult times is to protect our members. Had it been up to me, I would not have taken in those of you not capable of magic.”
Grace puts down her knitting and turns to her sister, panicked. “But I’ve got nowhere else to go!”
“I don’t intend to turn you out onto the street now that you’re here, Miss Wheeler.” Inez waves a hand, her silver ring glinting orange in the firelight. “But there will be thousands of people gathered tomorrow: Brothers and their guards and people greedy for the spectacle of a mass execution. If we try to stop it, we risk drawing attention to ourselves. It would be tremendously difficult, if not outright impossible, to maintain glamours while doing that much magic. If we were caught, we wouldn’t only risk individuals being arrested or executed—we’d risk exposing the entire Sisterhood and every girl in it.”
Individuals must be sacrificed for the good of the whole. She doesn’t say it, but it hangs there in the air along with the scents of tea and wood smoke. She doesn’t give a damn about any one of us, only the power we collectively represent.
And Inez isn’t wrong about the risks. It will require very difficult magic; it’s terribly dangerous. But not to even try? I couldn’t live with myself.
“How does this make us any better than the Brothers?” I demand. “If we could stop it and don’t?”
“We don’t know for certain that we could stop it, do we?” Inez muses. “But the subject is not open for debate.”
“I think it should be.” Tess stands. “Don’t I deserve a vote?”
Murmurs rustle through the room like a wildfire.
“She is the oracle.” Rilla’s words are hardly necessary, but they seem to bolster Tess. She stands taller, shoulders back, pushing pale blond curls away from her heart-shaped face.
Inez puts a skinny finger to her lips. “Did you foresee the Brothers’ vote? Their recapture of these prisoners? Anything about tomorrow?”
The whole room seems to hold its breath. Tess’s face goes a patchy red. “No.”
Inez shrugs. “Then I don’t see how being the oracle is relevant. We don’t give Brenna Elliott a say, do we?”
“That’s a false equivalency. I am hardly in Brenna’s position.” Tess narrows her gray eyes. “The prophecy says that I’ll be the one to lead the resurgence of magic.”
“Or cause a second Terror.” Inez’s smile withers. “I haven’t forgotten that. You’re a bit of a double-edged sword, aren’t you? Nor have I forgotten that you are twelve and still sleep with a teddy bear. You have a great deal of growing up to do yet, my dear.”
Tess flushes hotter at Inez’s condescension, her shoulders slumping.
I rise. “Tess is old enough to know right from wrong, which is something you seem to struggle with.”
“I forbid you to interfere, Cate.” Inez plants her hands on her bony hips. “Richmond Square will be packed to the gills tomorrow. I doubt that you can save them, and in trying, you’ll put us all in danger. I won’t allow it.”
“You won’t allow it?” I let out a laugh. “What are you going to do, lock me in a closet? Immobilize me?”
There’s a long pause. Inez fidgets with the ivory brooch at her throat, her brown eyes holding mine. “I can’t stop you, that’s true,” she says finally. “But if you get caught, I will not risk other lives to save yours. My first concern, now and always, is the preservation of the Sisterhood.”
• • •
By the time we’ve developed a patchwork plan, the sun is only a few hours from rising.
I want as few girls involved as possible. It is, as Inez said, a dangerous thing, made more dangerous by the fact that some of our strongest witches refuse to help. In the end, we decide we’ll use only six—Elena, Mélisande, Rilla, Mei, Tess, and me.
I turn to Elena after everyone else has left her bedroom. “Do you think it will work?”
Even Elena, normally so elegant and unflappable, is a bit mussed at three in the morning. She’s sprawled on her yellow chintz settee, her head resting against the arm, her brown eyes sleepy. “I hope so, or we’ll all be dead,” she says, stifling a yawn.
I run my hands through my tangled hair. I took out the aching braids hours ago. “Lovely.”
“It’s magic, not science,” she says. “A lot depends on how quickly Sachi and Rory can think on their feet and what condition the girls are in. If they’ve been beaten, legs broken, anything like that—”
“They’ll never make it.” I prop myself against her four-poster bed.
“I hope that isn’t the case.” Now she does yawn, stretching her arms over her head, catlike. I yawn, too, and open my eyes to find her looking at me with feline watchfulness. “Have you talked to Maura yet?”
I turn away. “You saw what happened when we were in the same room together.”
“I saw her provoke you into losing your temper. I don’t blame you, Cate. She can be very provoking. But you can’t avoid her forever.”
“Can’t I? Let’s see.” My voice is all edges. “We can’t do any more tonight. Get some sleep.”
I slip out of her room and down the hall to my own. Turning the corner, I’m surprised to find Alice huddled outside my door, her head propped against the green flowered wallpaper.
“Finally!” She jumps to her feet. “I’ve been waiting forever.”
“What do you want, Alice? I’ve got to go to bed. If you’re here to argue with me about tomorrow—”
“Surprisingly, no. I need to tell you something.” She heads toward the stairs, beckoning me to follow. She’s wearing an ivory satin nightgown that just brushes the tops of her bare feet, and her golden hair is tucked into pin curls.