“Where does it take you?”
I raised my shoulders. “Anywhere you want. You just have to think very hard of the place as you walk into the passage. It’s how we got to Pelage that night.” I inhaled sharply, piecing everything together. “And that’s how you were able to get there so quickly but be back in Astrea days later! You…flew,” I said, still unsure of what to call it.
“I’ve been in Salann since I arrived to take care of my father. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I blinked. “You were there. At the castle with the wolves and the People of the Hunt.”
He nodded. “I know where Pelage is, but I’m telling you, I’ve never been. It wasn’t me.”
I frowned, recalling that night, that first ball. A smile rose to my lips as I remembered his hands at my waist. “I’m certain it was. You had on a mask but—”
His eyes narrowed. “It wasn’t me.” Cassius turned away, pacing across a mosaic of the night sky. The stars twinkled beneath his feet. He suddenly whirled around. “Your shoes!”
“My shoes?”
“I just realized—you’ve been using this door to go to parties…you’re dancing through the shoes!”
I nodded. “We were all going at first, but I stopped that day in Astrea with Edgar…. I didn’t feel like dancing after that.”
“That’s why yours was the only pair not worn out at First Night.”
“Yes, but…the shoes don’t have anything to do with my sisters’ deaths.”
“Don’t they?” he asked, peering at me. “You truly think the killer is from Salten?”
“It has to be someone at Highmoor,” I murmured unhappily. “There was that awful storm the night Ligeia and Rosalie went missing. No one could have left the island during that.”
“Not by boat, certainly,” Cassius said. “But what if you’re not the only ones using this door?”
I was caught off guard by his reasoning, and my breath hitched, chilling me. It had never occurred to me the very door we’d been using to visit faraway castles and estates could be used by others to get to us. If anyone in Arcannia could gain admittance onto Salten, how would I ever be able to narrow down the suspects?
The train of postulants left the abbey, cutting across the courtyard and stalling our conversation. This time they were all aware of Cassius’s presence, dipping into solemn curtsies as they passed. He lowered his head, giving a short bow in response.
Too keyed up to remain still, I made my way past the archways and out into the tall grasses leading to the cliff. A temperate breeze swished by, rippling the skirt of my robe out behind me.
“I want to see this door,” Cassius said, coming up from behind me. “And one of these balls. Something about them isn’t right. I was never in Pelage. Someone…something might have been using my face to get closer to you.”
That choice of word again: something.
“You think the killer has been at the balls?” My stomach squirmed with a painful twist.
“Perhaps. Perhaps he saw your sisters there and…” He trailed off with a shrug.
“But Eulalie died before the balls started…. He would have to have known her from somewhere else.”
Cassius nodded, considering that. “I still want to go to one myself, look around and see what I can learn. They’re connected somehow, I’m sure of it. See if Camille is going out tomorrow night.” He wrapped his arms around my waist, leaning his chin on my shoulder. “We’ll figure this out, all right? You and I. You’re not on your own, Annaleigh.”
A warm, peaceful stillness fell over me. For a moment, the gray clouds above us parted, but rather than reveal a sunlit sky, the dark swirling cosmos of stars winked at us. A shooting star danced across the opening, but before I could point it out, Cassius’s lips descended on mine, and I forgot all about the sky.
“Would this work?” I asked, pulling out the sea-green ball gown from my armoire and holding it up for Camille’s inspection.
She wrinkled her nose. “No! You’ve worn that twice now, plus at Churning. This is a ball at Lambent! With the People of the Light! Fisher said everyone is meant to wear pale shades to honor Vaipany. You’ll stick out like a sore thumb in green.”
I settled the dress back onto the rack and shut the door. “Then I can’t go. I don’t have anything like that.”
She grabbed my hand. “Come with me.” Camille raced us down to her room and knelt beside her bed. She slid two enormous boxes out from under her duvet and handed me one. “Surprise!”
“What is this?” I gasped as I removed the lid. “Oh, Camille!” Nestled inside, on a bed of pale pink tissue paper, was the most exquisite gown I had ever seen. “Where did you get this?”
“Do you remember the ball at Bloem? With the People of the Petals?”
Of course I did. It was the single most opulent evening of our lives. There wasn’t an item in the whole of the castle not bedecked in pearls, jewels, or silver leaf.
“I had Mrs. Drexel make us dresses just like the ones I saw there. I picked them up in Astrea the night of the Churning pageant.” She swallowed. “Just before Rosalie and Ligeia…” When she met my gaze, her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
“It’s beautiful,” I assured her, picking up the gown and letting the blush-colored silk fall to the floor. The layers were so light and insubstantial, they seemed to dance on their own. Ropes of pearls coiled around the shoulders and across the back, clinking against one another.
“Try it on! Try it on!” she exclaimed, pushing aside her moment of sorrow with a pasted-on smile.
When I’d told Camille I wanted to go out, she’d squealed with delight, launching into a discussion of what dances were being held. I was surprised she’d kept such close tabs on all the social events, especially in light of our sisters’ deaths, but we all grieve in our own way.
I had no desire to go to this ball. I wanted to curl up in bed—warm and safe and surrounded by my sisters, like when we were little—and sleep. Sleep safe from Weeping Women nightmares and curses and killers. Just sleep.
But Cassius was so sure we would discover something. If there was even a chance my sisters’ killer would be there, I had to go to learn everything I could.
Camille unhooked the back of my gown, freeing me from the dark twill, and helped me slide the new dress over my head. It settled on my frame like a wispy bit of sea-foam. The pearls still held a chill as they rolled across my bare back, setting my teeth on edge.
“Don’t look in the mirror yet!” she ordered, far more excited than I was. “Help me into mine. I want to see what they look like together.”
Hers was also sleeveless, with a soft illusion neckline. Icy champagne and silver seed pearls formed intricate designs all along the sheer mesh overlay.
“You look dazzling.”
She waved aside my praise, rummaging through a box on her bureau. “I found these among Mama’s old things. We should wear them tonight. Everyone needs to know the sisters of the Salt are there.”
She handed me a strange piece of jewelry, and I turned it around, trying to make sense of it. It was the Thaumas octopus. Its body, made from the largest pearl I’d ever seen, was a ring. The tentacles formed a bracelet of delicate rose gold, twisting and wrapping up my wrist as I slipped the bauble on. Camille opted for a tiara of jeweled starfish and pale pink drop earrings.
“I gave the Graces other little bits from Mama’s jewelry box. Nothing terribly valuable, but they were pleased.”
I looked up from the Thaumas bracelet in alarm. “The Graces are coming?”
She nodded, toying with the back of one earring. “Of course. We all ought to go, don’t you think?”
“Not Lenore,” I clarified, praying Camille hadn’t pushed her into this.
She shook her head with a sniff. “It’s impossible to talk to her right now
. She just sits there, staring over your shoulder as if you’re not even there.”
“She’s grieving.”
Camille’s lips twisted in a pout. “I know that. It’s just…” She let out a sharp sigh. “I don’t mean to sound callous, but haven’t we done this enough? I’m sick of mourning. I just want to live without the fear I’m going to lose another of you.”
I raised one eyebrow skeptically at her. “If I died tomorrow, would you mourn me?”
Her face dropped, crestfallen. “Don’t even joke about that. Of course I would. But…would you really want me swathed away in black taffeta and jet jewelry, another year of my life put on hold just because yours was over?”
I wouldn’t, but it seemed unkind to say it so soon after Rosalie’s and Ligeia’s deaths.
“Come,” she said, taking my hand. “We’ve had enough mourning and grief to last us too many lifetimes. Tonight is about champagne, and caviar, and dancing!”
* * *
On the way to the Grotto, I kept an eye out for Cassius to make sure he was following after us. As I trailed Fisher and the Graces down the steep cliff walk, a shadowy form shifted out from behind a grove of trees.
Once inside the cave, Fisher twisted the trident around, and the wave wall slowly broke apart, turning into the open passage.
“So we’re going to Lambent,” I said loudly, for Cassius’s benefit. I’d heard a pebble crunch out on the cliff walk and hoped he could hear me. “For the People of the Light’s dance. Remember, we all need to be thinking of that as we go through the tunnel.”
Honor gave me a pointed look. “You don’t have to remind us. We know how it works.”
“We know you do,” Fisher said, twirling her through the entrance with a laugh as they vanished. “Minnow just wants to make sure Mercy hasn’t forgotten!”
“I didn’t!” she cried out, racing through the mouth and disappearing.
Camille and Verity went next, and I dared to look back at the empty Grotto. “Lambent,” I repeated before following my sisters.
The tunnel took us straight inside the new palace. The stone walls of this estate were much lighter, almost the color of a sun-stained shell, and the air was warm and dry, perfumed with burnt myrrh and lotus blossoms. I already missed the salty tang of the sea.
Sconces dripped golden wax onto the stone floor below. The smoke from the flickering wicks hung heavy, filling the hallway with a gray haze. I looked back toward the door to Highmoor, but it was shrouded in shadows.
Camille smiled over her shoulder at me as she spun Verity in giddy circles. The smoke lent a dreamy quality to the air, slowing motions and imparting a strange importance to every gesture. I blinked several times, trying to sharpen my thoughts, but felt drugged. My mind struggled to focus.
A grand foyer opened before us. On the right was the ballroom and, from the sounds of the orchestra and chatter, the festivities were already in full swing. To the left was a series of open arches leading out onto a moonlit terrace. I spotted the dark outlines of sand dunes in the distance, blotting out part of the sky. We were a very long way from the seashore.
Across the room was a fountain spouting wine. Couples in formal court fashions mingled around the circular base, sticking out cups to catch the scarlet liquid as it flowed from an ornate bronze battle scene. In it, three men hoisted another as he tried to escape their grasp. Above them flew a horrible winged figure that was slitting the fugitive’s throat with a scythe. The wine spilled out from the poor soul’s wound.
“Don’t look at that,” I said, trying to direct the Graces’ attention away from the gory tableau. Smoke burned my eyes, and as I blinked, I saw I’d been mistaken. The statue was a cherub aiming an arrow at a group of girls sitting at the fountain’s edge. The wine poured out of their pitchers.
I rubbed my eyes, trying to make them see the awful statue again. How had I misinterpreted it so terribly? Before I could take a closer look, Camille tugged me into the hall.
One wall was divided into a triad of enormous frescoes, each depicting a moment from the creation of the world. Vaipany loomed in the center, spinning the sun into existence. On the right was Seland, forming the earth out of mud and clay, his hands brown with primordial ooze. Versia was on the left, floating through a field of stars and planets. I glanced around the room, wondering what Cassius thought of it.
Large waves of golden silk hung across the ceiling, rippling toward a spectacular chandelier. Giant spheres of spinning metal were suspended in midair, protecting a massive ball of flames. I’d never seen anything like it before.
Fisher whisked Verity off to the dance floor, and two younger boys asked Honor and Mercy if they would like to dance. Camille and I watched the couples swirl by. I craned my neck, searching the crowds for Cassius.
“See that man dressed all in silver by the columns?” Camille whispered to me. I squinted through the crowd but couldn’t quite make out whom she pointed to. “We danced together last night—a minuet and three waltzes. He’s an excellent partner.” She nudged me toward him.
“What are you doing?” I asked, fighting to stay in place against her jostling.
“He’s not dancing. Go ask him.”
I squirmed from her clutch. “I’m not asking a man to dance!”
Camille sighed. “That’s so old-fashioned.” She left me, wading into the sea of people.
I looked back to the chandelier, studying its kinetic frenzy. I could think of no mechanical means to engineer such fluid movement—and to make it appear as if it were floating, no less. A warning panged deep within me. Dark magic was at work here.
“I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”
Jumping, I turned and saw Camille’s man in silver.
Up close, I immediately recognized him. Another series of dragons was stitched across the pale velvet of his jacket. Deep-set eyes, so pale blue they were nearly white, ran over me, like the writhing arms of a jellyfish closing around its prey.
He reached out with a brazen hand, cupping my chin and turning my head this way and that. His fingers were too long, too thin, too angular, and I cringed from his grasp.
“No, I certainly wouldn’t forget such a face. I’d be honored to have such a pretty partner. Shall we?”
The dragon man held out his hand, grabbing mine when I hesitated. He whirled me toward the dance floor with practiced charm.
“Actually, I believe we have met. Twice, in fact,” I commented. I needed to learn as much about this ball as possible, especially as it appeared I was on my own. Cassius had still not made an appearance. “You were at the ball in Pelage.”
“I was,” he said, leading me into a complicated series of steps. His eyes brightened in recognition. “I remember dancing with you—you’re one of the Thaumas girls! I know your sisters well.”
“Do you?”
He smiled. “They certainly make for the loveliest dance partners.” He spun me away from him, his eyes roaming the hall. “But I don’t see the triplets here tonight.” His teeth winked with a predatory warning. “I do hope nothing happened to them.”
I nearly tripped as alarm bells began to ring deep within me. “Why would you say that?”
He raised his shoulders in an elegant shrug. “What would you have me say?”
With a flick of his wrist, he twisted me back into his arms. “You never asked where our second meeting was,” I sputtered, turning my face from his as he maneuvered me into a dip and leaned over, breathing in my scent. I had the horrifying premonition he was about to lick the hollow of my throat.
“On Astrea, of course. The night of the Churning pageant, if I’m not mistaken. The night two of your sisters went missing.”
My breath stole away from me. How would he know that? “What were you doing in Astrea?”
He blinked once, his pupils suddenly impossibly large
, like the flat, dead eyes of a shark.
“Tell me, Annaleigh, why do you ask me things you already know?”
I pushed him away from me. “I never told you my name.”
The dragon man laughed. “No, but she did.” He nodded toward the center of the room, where Fisher swayed back and forth, letting Verity stand on his toes.
Knowing this stranger had spoken to Verity made me want to cry. “Stay away from my sisters.”
He grabbed my elbow, drawing me close. “We’re taking up space on the floor just standing here. Dance with me.”
His grip was too tight, and I couldn’t free myself. Before I could raise my voice to protest, Camille and a new partner spun by.
“Isn’t this exquisite?” she called out.
My stomach churned as I watched her swirl away. Why couldn’t she sense the danger I felt? She looked as carefree as a butterfly, fluttering from partner to partner.
“Dance, Annaleigh,” the dragon man urged, bringing me back to the present. He drew his thumb across the curve of my jaw, running it over my lips. Stuck in his grasp, I leaned as far away as I could, but I still felt the heat of his breath on my cheek. “Dance for me.”
This man had something to do with my sisters’ deaths, I was sure of it. I had to find Cassius. Had to get help. Had to escape this ballroom and the smoke clouding my thoughts. Had to run from the music. It was a half note off, too sharp, setting my teeth on edge and making it impossible to hear, let alone dance to.
“Get away from me!” I screamed, and shoved at his chest with all my might. As I turned to run, I expected noises of surprise and concern, gasps from onlookers as I created quite a loud scene.
But there was no reaction.
I stopped in my tracks, staring at the couples on the floor.
None of them had noticed my outburst. It was like the moths. I’d seen them, but later Papa had not. Tonight, I was seeing and hearing things that crowds of people in the same room as me were not.
House of Salt and Sorrows Page 25