Star Cursed: The Cahill Witch Chronicles, Book Two

by Spotswood, Jessica

  “Speaking of Marianne,” Maura says, turning from the window, “I can’t believe Finn Belastra joined the Brotherhood. He doesn’t seem the type.”

  She’s staring right at me, obviously waiting for my answer. How much does she know? “He isn’t.”

  “Everyone at home is saying that’s why you joined the Sisterhood. Because Finn jilted you.” Maura slides the jeweled combs from her hair and lays them on her dressing table. “Is it true?”

  My hands land on my hips. “No. I joined the Sisterhood to protect the two of you, because Elena was threatening you. You know that.”

  “That’s too bad,” Maura sighs. “I was rather impressed. My big sister, having a scandalous love affair with the gardener! It was like something from one of my novels. You mean there was nothing between you? No stolen kisses out by the gazebo?”

  “No. Well, yes. I mean, it’s not what you think,” I insist, flushed and flustered. “He didn’t jilt me. He’s not like that.”

  “Of course he is. You poor thing.” Maura’s reflection stares at me from the mirror. Tess is watching, too, her gray eyes bright with sympathy. “It must have been an awful shock. Betraying his own mother, then throwing you over. He was always ambitious, wasn’t he? I remember him in Sunday school when we were little. Such a know-it-all.”

  “Maura!” Tess chides. “She doesn’t want to talk about it. Stop needling her.”

  “I’m not needling. I’m comforting. Perhaps I Sng.esn’m not very good at it.” Maura kneels and pulls a shimmering gold dress from one of her trunks. She looks up at me, her face sad, vulnerable. “I know what it’s like to be toyed with. You could have come to me, Cate. Confided in me.”

  “That’s not how it was with Finn and me,” I protest. “It wasn’t like you and Elena.”

  A mask slides over her face as she stands. “Of course not. I’m sure what you had was deeply profound—until he jilted you for Brother Ishida. At least now we know why you wouldn’t marry Paul. Unhook me, Tess, will you?” Maura turns her back to us.

  Drat. I’ve said the wrong thing. How do I always say the wrong thing with her?

  Tess obligingly begins to unhook the row of buttons down the back of Maura’s green gown. I close my eyes and pray for patience. “I wasn’t in love with Paul. Didn’t you once tell me I should only marry someone who made my heart pound?”

  Maura steals a look at me in the mirror. “I wouldn’t fret about Paul. He was surprised, certainly, but he seems to be getting along well enough without you.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” I say dryly. “So he’s come back to New London?”

  “Yes.” Maura’s voice is muffled as Tess pulls the dress over her head. “To take a job at Mr. Jones’s architecture firm. He said there was nothing left for him in Chatham.”

  I shouldn’t ask. She wants me to ask, and I’m loath to give her the satisfaction. But I can’t resist my curiosity. “Downstairs, you said—you implied—did Paul come to call on you?”

  “Don’t sound so shocked!” Maura laughs. “I am adorable, you know.”

  “I do know.” She’s more beautiful than I am, more outgoing, and cleverer. She loves the city, just as Paul does, and she wants adventures. It’s not the first time I’ve thought they might make a good match, but I’m still surprised. “It’s just that the last time I saw him, he proposed to me, and the last time I saw you, you were—”

  “The last time you saw me, I was a fool. My feelings for Elena were nothing but a two-minute infatuation for a teacher. I was lonely, and she flattered me, made me feel important. I was foolish enough to think it meant more than it did. I’m past that now.” Maura’s voice is clipped and angry; she doesn’t sound entirely past it.

  “Now you have feelings for Paul.” I look at my sister, standing there utterly unself-consciously in her ivory corset and petticoats, red curls tumbling down her back, and I feel a strange splash of uncertainty, as though I’m looking at a stranger. Do I know her at all?

  “You said I’d change my mind about marriage when I found the right man. Perhaps I have. And Paul was so hurt when you left. You didn’t even say good-bye, much less give him an answer to his proposal. He deserves better than that.”

  He does, I don’t deny that, but—

  “He talked with you about it?” The notion makes me feel itchy and uncomfortable. He was always my friend. Maura was the pest, the tagalong little sister.

  Maura nods. “He wanted answers. I couldn’t tell him the truth about the Sisterhood, of course, so I let him think it was because of Finn Belastra. I’m afraid it makes you look rather pathetic.”

  Tess tugs the golden dress over Maura’s shoulders. “I’m sure Cate had her reasons.”

  “Cate always has her reasons. But as she chooses not to share them with us, all we can do is speculate,” Maura says airily, arranging the dress over her hips. “In any case, Paul said he’d come to see that we’re all settled in. Perhaps I can persuade him to take me shopping. Tess, you could come along and chaperone. I’d ask you, Cate, but I’m afraid that might be awkward.”

  “No. I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of your fun,” I agree.

  “That’s very kind of you. I can’t wait to see the city properly. Thank the Lord for Brenna Elliott and this new prophecy. I was afraid I’d spend the rest of my life wasting away in Chatham!” Maura sighs.

  “Home isn’t that bad,” Tess says, tying a wide, brown velvet sash around Maura’s waist.

  “Oh, you know what I mean. This changes things. Elena says the Sisterhood isn’t so certain of you anymore, Cate. The prophesied witch could be any of us.”

  “Don’t, Maura.” Tess looks on the verge of tears. “Stop trying to pick a fight. We’ll find out soon enough which of us is the oracle, but for now we’re all finally together again. Aren’t you glad?”

  Maura eyes me with trepidation, as though admitting she missed me will take something away from her. Perhaps it will.

  “I’m sorry. I owe you both an apology.” I take a deep breath. “Especially you, Maura. The decision for me to come here, and the two of you to stay home—it was

  a decision we should have made together. You’re both old enough to have a say in what happens to you. You told me that, and I didn’t listen. I—I’m not a very good listener, sometimes.”

  “Sometimes?” Maura scoffs, rolling her eyes to the shadowy ceiling.

  “Maura!” Tess snaps.

  I offer Maura my hand. She looks at me for a long moment, and then she takes it.

  “Fine,” she says. “I missed you, too.”

  arm am">To th

  CHAPTER

  7

  THE NEXT AFTERNOON DURING TEA, Tess grabs a plate of pumpkin scones. “The front parlor?” she suggests, heading for the door while I grab two cups of tea.

  Maura tugs on one of Tess’s braids as she passes the pink love seat. “Where are you going?”

  “Cate and I were going to find a quiet place to catch up,” Tess explains. “Do you want to come with us?”

  Maura rolls her eyes. “Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

  I add milk and sugar to Tess’s tea the way she likes it, trying not to seem as though I’m eavesdropping. Tess sighs. “You wouldn’t be intruding, Maura. I just haven’t seen her in weeks; I want to hear all about everything.”

  “That’s all right. I find the company here more stimulating anyway,” Maura says, turning back to Alice, and hurt flashes across Tess’s face.

  “Thanks,” she mutters. I finish with the tea, and we walk in companionable silence to the front parlor and shut the door behind us.

  “Tell me, how were things at home?” I ask.

  Tess curls up on the stiff settee, her stocking feet tucked beneath her, munching on a scone. Cinnamon and nutmeg perfume the air. She gestures at the other scone on the plate. “You should eat something. You’re too skinny.”

  I take matches from the tinderbox and light the gas lamps on either side of the mantel. It gives the
illusion of warmth, at least. It’s freezing in here without a fire, despite the hiss of heat through the radiator. “Are you avoiding my question?”

  “No. Well, perhaps.” Tess hands me the scone as I plop down next to her. “You’re always fretting about us. Aren’t I allowed to worry about you?”

  “No.” But I take a bite just to appease her. “There. Now tell me.”

  “Things weren’t good.” Tess sighs, retying the pink bow on her braid and avoiding my eyes. “After you left, Maura stayed in her room for almost a week. Then she and Elena got into a screaming match. Maura was—I’ve never heard her so angry. Even Father came V.o he to see what happened. Maura did mind-magic on him so he’d forget what he’d heard, and she was different after that. I caught her practicing on John and Mrs. O’Hare last week.”

  “What?” I yelp. The O’Hares have been our housekeeper and coachman since we were little; they’re practically family.

  “Yes.” Tess raises miserable gray eyes to mine. “I don’t think it was the first time, either. I don’t know how often she’d done it before I caught her. She wouldn’t tell.”

  “What did she have to say for herself?” I put my unfinished scone down.

  Tess hunches her shoulders. “She didn’t think she was doing anything wrong. She said she needed to work on compelling multiple subjects. I told her if she did it again, I’d never speak to her for the rest of my life.” Unlike Maura, Tess isn’t the sort to make empty threats. “She swore she wouldn’t.”

  “Are the O’Hares all right?” I trace the carved pineapple on the arm of the settee.

  “They seem to be. It’s Maura I’m worried about. She’s become obsessed with magic. The whole way here, whenever she wasn’t flirting with Paul, she was asking Elena questions about the Sisterhood. It’s as though she thinks she can be the prophesied sister if she tries hard enough.” Tess bites her lip. “I don’t think that’s how prophecies work, though. I don’t know what Maura will do if it’s not her.”

  “Be even angrier? I thought we made a truce last night, but she’s ignored me ever since.” I kick off my slippers and curl my feet under me on the settee, mirroring Tess’s position. “Do you hate it here?”

  “No, it’s grand. Very—homey.” Tess glances around the dour parlor and rolls her eyes.

  “I’m serious!” I protest. I can practically feel the headmistresses sneering at me from their portraits, disapproving of my show of emotion. It seems unfathomable that I could join them someday.

  “I’ve only been here a day,” Tess says. “I haven’t formed an opinion yet.”

  “I couldn’t bear it if you were angry with me, too.” I smooth the ruffles at the bottom of my blue plaid dress. “I know you wanted to stay home with Father and—”

  “I understand why you sent for us,” Tess interrupts. “I think I’ll like it. It’s a little overwhelming, is all. I’m used to it being just us. It feels like everyone’s always staring at me now.”

  Tess is wearing a new blue dress with pink and purple polka dots, and combined with the pink bows in her braids, the effect is sweet and girlish. It makes me want to look after her, mother her, and I have to remind myself of my promise not to treat her like a child.

  “They’re all curious about us because of the prophecy. You’ll get used to it.”

  She nods. “Everyone seems nice. Almost everyone, anyway.”

  I freeze, anger buzzing through me, scone halfway to my mouth. “Has someone been unkind to you? Who?”

  “Cate, you look as though you’re about to brain someone with that scone.” Tess giggles. I flush and put it back on the plate. “No one’s been mean to me, but Alice and Vi aren’t very nice to you.”

  I try to shrug it off. “Don’t worry about that. I want you to make friends.”

  Tess scowls. “I couldn’t be friends with anyone who doesn’t like you, silly.”

  I give her a quick hug, touched by her sweetness. Obviously Maura doesn’t feel the same way. She sat with Alice and Vi at supper last night and again at breakfast this morning.

  Tess grins. “Guess what? Sister Gretchen offered to teach me German.”

  I grin back. “Mei’s family speaks Chinese at home. I bet she would teach you.”

  “Chinese? [">.”” Tess shrieks, practically insane with joy. “Really?”

  “Truly. Do you want to go ask her? I bet she’s still playing chess with Addie.” I blow out the lamps and Tess grabs the plate and her still-full teacup. She pauses by the table in the front hall.

  “That’s pretty,” she says, pointing at the silver letter tray. It’s topped with a fanciful letter rack in the shape of a lyre. As she reaches for it, her tea spills all over the table. “Oops!”

  I grab up the lone, tea-stained letter, addressed to Sister Cora, and wave it in the air. “Go fetch a towel from the kitchen.”

  “Is the letter ruined?” Tess asks. “You’d better take it out of the envelope before it seeps through.”

  I frown at her. “And read Sister Cora’s private post? I doubt she’d appreciate that.” There’s no return address; it must have been hand-delivered. What if it’s something important, and we’ve just rendered it illegible? Tess scurries off, and I slip my fingernail beneath the red wax seal. It’s marked with a letter B.

  I don’t have to read it, I decide. I’ll just take it out of the envelope for safekeeping.

  As it turns out, I needn’t have worried. The letter is a little browned with tea at the bottom, but the six lines of text are all still perfectly legible—except the letters are arranged in strange combinations that don’t make the slightest bit of sense to me.

  Tess comes rushing back with a towel. “Did I ruin it?” she asks, biting her lip as she mops up the table. “Was it something important?”

  “I don’t know. I think it’s in code.” I wave the letter at her.

  “Really?” She snatches it from me, forehead rumpled. She looks very like Father when he’s puzzling over a translation. “It’s a Caesar cipher,” she says after a minute of squinting.

  “Am I meant to know what that means?”

  “It’s a substitution cipher, where every letter is replaced by another letter. They say Caesar used three shifts to the right—replaced A with D, B with E, C with F, and so forth. This looks like it’s a left shift of two instead, so . . .” Tess pauses. “A becomes Y, B becomes Z, C becomes A, and so on. That’s good. Not as easy to break.”

  I’m gaping at her again, confounded by her cleverness. “But you just broke it in less than a minute.”

  She flushes. “I read a book of Father’s on cryptography. You know I like puzzles and equations and all that. I wrote Mrs. O’Hare notes in code for a month afterward. She wasn’t very good at reading them, though; I had to give her the key. Anyway, a normal person wouldn’t figure it out so quickly. Or at all.”

  I laugh. Only Tess. “So you mean you can read this?”

  “Yes.” Her grin fades as she puzzles out the text. “It says On high alert after the latest report from Harwood. Have arrested 8 girls in last 2 days—I think that’s right, or it’d be 6 girls in 0 days, which doesn’t make sense—without trial. Being kept under heavy guard in basement of National Council building and”—Tess’s voice falters, and I put my hand on her shoulder—“tortured and starved. Would not be surprised if they simply disappear. Even under duress 6 swear they cannot prophesize. 2 have claimed they can but one is mad and one simple. The families are in an uproar. We may be able to use this to our advantage.”

  We’re both silent for a moment. “Those poor girls,” I say finally.

  It’s me the Brothers want, not them. Eight innocent girls are suffering while I’m safe in my bed at night.

  Tess tosses the letter back onto the table and stares up at me. “How,” she demands, “could this possibly be to anyone’s advantage?”

  oss1em">“Sister Cora hopes people are getting sick of the Brothers, that they might be ready for new leadership soon. Shared leadership
, between the Brothers and witches,” I explain, pacing the front hall. “The worse the Brothers are, the better people might think of us.”

  Tess plants her hands on her hips, scowling. “So she’ll just let those poor girls rot, in the hopes of inciting some kind of riot? That’s not right. There must be something we can do.”

  I peer out the window beside the front door. A black brougham drives by in the street below, the horse’s hooves loud in the silence. The red maples are shifting in the wind, waving their bare fingers. “I don’t know what.”

  “I’m going to fetch Maura,” Tess decides.

  As she scurries off, I grab the letter from the table and head back into the front parlor to relight the gas lamps. Then I sit on the silk chair by the fireplace, staring up at the grapevine cornices and wishing for guidance.

  Tess returns with Maura only a minute later. Maura is furious, her blue eyes snapping. “What does Cora mean to do, just let those poor girls be murdered? Who knows how many more the Brothers will snatch up!”

  “What else can she do? She’s protecting us,” I point out.

  Maura sinks onto the settee. She’s wearing another new gown, sapphire with black pinstripes. “Alice says the war council is meeting right now to talk about possible courses of action.”

  “War council?” I ask as Tess sits next to Maura.

  “The Sisters’ war council. Alice told me all about it. Cate, you’ve been here a month, don’t you know anything?” Maura sighs. “It’s Sister Cora, of course, and Gretchen, Sophia, Johanna, Evelyn, and Inez. The six most senior members of the Sisterhood. They vote on anything important, but Alice says lately they’ve been deadlocked on everything because Inez and Cora are always at odds.”

  Alice says, Alice says. “How does Alice know everything?” I demand, peevish.

  “She’s a horrible snoop is how,” Maura confesses, and I laugh. “But it’s useful. She overheard Johanna and Inez talking about Brenna’s latest prophecy, too. Brenna told the Brothers the other oracle is in New London now.” She tucks a red curl behind her ear, preening a little.