“Are you sure of that, Catie?” The childhood nickname almost sends me into tears. It reminds me of Father kneeling and checking beneath my bed for monsters. Nothing there, Catie, he’d say, before giving me a smacking kiss on the forehead. No one else has ever called me that—and I haven’t heard it from him since I was very small.
I picture my bedroom back in Chatham: the quilt and curtains with the blue daylilies, the rose-patterned rug next to my bed, and Mother’s violet settee. Will I ever see any of it again? I can’t go back, at least not with the Brothers in charge of New England, and despite all of Inez’s schemes, we do not seem very close to ousting them at the moment.
“I’m sure,” I say. But my voice trembles on the lie.
Father pauses, looking me straight in the eye. “I haven’t been a good father to you, Cate. My advice may not be welcome, but I’m going to give it nonetheless and hope you’ll indulge me. A man like Finn—he won’t take well to being coddled. A marriage requires a meeting of equals. Your mother—well, I wish she’d told me the truth and trusted me to make my own decisions.”
“I—I’ll keep that in mind.” I give him a quick embrace, inhaling the scents of leather and pipe smoke. “Keep safe, please. I feel as though we’ve only just found you, in a way.”
“I do, too.” Father’s voice is gruff. “Take care of yourself, now.”
“I will. And I’ll look after Maura and Tess, too.”
Father smiles. “Never had any doubt of that.”
• • •
I almost break my promise to Alice three times over.
“I can’t wait and do nothing!” I complain, pacing the Auclairs’ grand foyer. Above me, the crystal chandelier catches the last rays of sunlight.
Prue throws herself in front of the door. Again. “You’ve got to.”
“I could move you if I wanted,” I point out, frustrated.
Prue leans back against the door, arms crossed over her chest. Her gray eyes, fringed with unfathomably long lashes, practically dare me to try. “I know you’re worried, but you’ve got to think this through. The convent will be crawling with Brothers. If you go back, it will only complicate things. Alice is probably on her way home with Maura and Tess right now.”
“What if she’s not?” I sink onto the bottom step of the great, gleaming staircase, my mind filling with nightmares. “It’s been hours! They should have been back by now. I don’t know what could be keeping them, unless the Brothers got there before Alice did and there was a battle. O’Shea will have a registry of students. When he sees three Cahill sisters on that list—”
“Don’t think of it,” Prue interrupts. I glance up at the ceiling, covered in the same deep blue floral paper as the walls, bridged by a cornice of sculpted cherubs. I can’t stop thinking of it: guards restraining my sisters, knocking them unconscious so they cannot use their magic. Beating them. Breaking their fingers the way they did Brenna’s when she refused to cooperate. Leaving scars and bruises and worse. I think of what was done to Parvati and others at Harwood and my stomach lurches.
Maura would fight back, and Lord knows she’s formidable. But Tess—Tess, whose magic is the strongest of all—
“Tess hasn’t been herself lately,” I fret. “I’m afraid she might do something foolish.”
Even if she has no sense of self-preservation, she knows what the prophecy says: If the oracle falls to the Brotherhood, we’re all lost. Surely that would rouse her to fight. Wouldn’t it?
Prue rummages through the hall table for a match, then lights the exquisite little blue crystal lamp. It’s growing dark outside; it must be nearly half past four. What’s taking them so long?
“They’ll be all right, Cate. Besides, you’re exhausted. How much more magic do you suppose you can do today?”
I glance into the silver mirror over the table, noting my pallor and the tired droop of my shoulders. She’s right. I barely managed to get us across town in our disguises before I collapsed onto Alice’s kitchen floor. Prue scrounged up some bread and cheese from the pantry, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat. It took an hour before I was able to go upstairs and attend Alice’s father.
“I don’t care. I don’t care about anyone but Maura and Tess,” I mutter.
“Liar,” Prue says. “If that were true, you would have let them arrest me. You would have let us all hang. No—you would have let us all rot in Harwood, or suffer whatever other fate the Brothers had in store for us.”
I sigh as Prue presses my cold cup of tea into my hands. A few months ago, Tess and Maura were the only people who truly mattered to me in the world. I would have been incapable of staying here and entrusting their safety to anyone else. Now—well, it’s driving me mad, but I do recognize the sense in Prue’s argument.
The front door crashes open. My heart lodges in my throat when I see the tall, gray-haired man standing in the doorway.
“Oh, good, you’re here.” Alice drops her disguise, closing the door behind her.
She’s come alone.
My heart plummets. “Where are my sisters?”
“Hidden away.” Alice shivers into her cloak. “It’s freezing in here! How’s Father?”
“Sleeping peacefully. I eased his fever. He’s past danger now.” I frown, gripping my teacup with white-knuckled hands. “Are they still at the convent? Are they safe?”
“Yes, and yes—at least for the time being.” Alice strides into the parlor—a large room with a thick rose-colored rug and curtains the pale pink of the inside of a seashell. She sits on a plush pink settee identical to the one at the convent, and I wonder if she prevailed upon her father to buy her two. I cannot imagine growing up in this cold mausoleum of a house. It’s lovely but impersonal—no books or papers or slippers scattered about, no family portraits on the walls. It seems a lonely place for a child.
“Isn’t the place swarming with Brothers by now?”
“Dozens of them.” Alice reaches up to pull the bell for a servant. Her hand falls as she remembers there’s no one to call. She makes a face and gets up to light the fire herself. “But it turns out there’s a suite of rooms hidden behind Cora’s. The door is in the back of her privy closet, and it’s glamoured so no one would ever suspect it was there. I’ve been living at the convent for years and I never knew. Dead clever, isn’t it? Stocked with everything you’d need for a few days—blankets, privy pots, candles, even some of Sister Sophia’s canned goods. I don’t know that they’ll be very comfortable, but they won’t starve. Gretchen got everyone in just as O’Shea himself marched in, demanding your arrest.”
I sink onto a pretty gold chair. “Thank the Lord you got there in time.”
“There wasn’t a minute to spare. Girls were rushing around, casting illusions over anything forbidden, while Inez stalled the Brothers at the door. She put on a good show of being shocked by your betrayal. Meanwhile, Gretchen was upstairs shoving all your strays into the secret rooms.” Alice sighs and throws up her hands. “Can one of you start this blasted fire?”