Midnight Dolls

by Kiki Sullivan

  “But you and Mom agreed to let your sosyete cast this charm to bind me to Bram? How could you?”

  He shakes his head. “Believe me, I voiced my concern, and I refused to take part in the ceremony, but they did it anyhow. They only needed three kings to cast, and I was outvoted. Your mom was furious when she found out what they had done, and she made me promise that I’d support you in whatever you chose in the end.”

  “Now you’re saying I have a choice in the matter?” I ask, unable to keep the bitterness out of my tone.

  “You do,” my father replies. “Just like I did when I chose your mom. It’s difficult to turn your back on the things you’ve been magically predisposed to feel, but it’s not impossible. Regardless, I think you and I can both agree that Caleb isn’t the right decision for you. And I don’t see why you shouldn’t give Bram a chance, when you get right down to it. He’s a good guy, Eveny. And at the end of the day, I only want what’s best for you.”

  “Yeah, well, funny how what’s best for me looks an awful lot like what’s best for you and your sosyete.”

  I storm up the stairs and slam the door to my bedroom, ignoring him as he calls after me. For the first time all day, I’m beginning to feel like meeting with Main de Lumière is my only option, regardless of the risks. After all, I can’t even trust the people who are closest to me.

  Caleb calls a few times, but I don’t answer, and finally he texts me to ask if I’m all right.

  Don’t worry, I write back.

  I’m still outside if you need me, he replies instantly. Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay.

  A new wave of guilt washes over me. How could I have given in to whatever I was feeling for Bram when Caleb is out there risking his life for me around the clock? What kind of a person does that?

  I sit at my window for a few minutes and stare out at my mother’s Rose of Life blooms, lit by the evening sun, and beyond them, the cemetery, which now lies in shadows. I think of my mother and wonder what she would have done if she were in my shoes. I can’t help but feel disappointed in myself for having feelings for Bram, even after realizing I’m fated to. My parents, it seems, were stronger than that; they let their own passion for each other guide them rather than buying into their magical destiny. I wrap my arms around myself as I watch Caleb cross the garden on his nightly rounds. He looks up at my window, meets my gaze, and gives me a small wave. I feel tears in my eyes as I turn away.

  There’s a knock on my door and I call out, “I don’t want to talk about it, Dad.”

  “It’s your grandfather, Eveny.”

  “Oh.” I hesitate. I’m not sure how he can help me now, but based on our conversation the other day, I’m hopeful he’ll be sympathetic to my plight, at the very least. “Come in.”

  As he opens the door and settles himself onto the edge of my bed, I’m struck by how drained he looks. “Your father told me what happened,” he says. “With Bram.”

  I look away. “Let me guess. You’re here to tell me you agree with him? That I should just marry Bram and move back to Caouanne Island and forget all about Carrefour?”

  “No,” my grandfather says. “I’m here to tell you that I think you have the right to choose, just like your parents did.”

  “You do?”

  “Tradition means a lot, but sometimes we have to rely on ourselves to make the best choices.” He pauses. “Here. I have something I’d like to show you, if you’ll come sit beside me. I think that your mother would have agreed with me about relying on yourself too.”

  He chants something under his breath and pulls his Mind’s Eye out from under his shirt as I move next to him. The crystal flickers to life, and it takes me a minute to realize that the scene appearing in the glass is taking place on Caouanne Island. A second later, a young version of my mother walks into the frame, and my breath catches in my throat. She looks so real, so alive in the tiny image. It makes my heart ache.

  “This was the first time I met your mother,” my grandfather says. “Your father brought her home to Caouanne Island to show her where he’d grown up. She must have been twenty-one or twenty-two.”

  I watch, transfixed, as my mother throws her head back and laughs. She looks hopeful, like anything is possible. “She seems happy,” I say.

  “She was.”

  We continue watching the scene, from my grandfather’s point of view, as he meets my mother for the first time. They hug, and she chatters nervously about how happy she is to be on Caouanne Island.

  The image flashes forward to what I assume is later that same day, because my mother is wearing the same flowing emerald green dress. My grandfather approaches from behind, and as he gets closer, I see that she’s sitting on the back deck with my father, his arm slung around her. Are you two almost ready for dinner? I hear my grandfather ask, and my parents turn to smile at him. I gasp as I see how young my father looks too.

  I watch as my father kisses my mother tenderly on the cheek and heads into the house, leaving her alone with my grandfather. He moves closer to her, and her whole face seems to light up as she smiles at him. Mr. Desjardins, thank you so much for inviting me here, she says.

  But of course, my dear, my grandfather replies. I know how deeply my son loves you. And please, no need for formalities. Call me Gregore.

  My mother blushes and smiles, and when she looks up again, her eyes are filled with tears. I know there are some concerns on Caouanne Island that I’m going to take Matthias away. But I promise, that isn’t my intention. We plan to be together, but one day, we both hope that our magical faiths can be united.

  United? My grandfather’s tone sounds surprised.

  Oh yes, Gregore, my mother says, grasping his hands. In the Mind’s Eye, it looks like she’s staring right at me. I’m startled to see the depth of resolve in her eyes. Matthias and I want to fix the things that are wrong with andaba and zandara, the way they’ve been misused, and return both magical faiths to their former glory, so that we can change the world for good.

  Sandrine, you’re dreaming big, my grandfather replies. He pauses and adds, Then again, the world never changes unless someone has the courage to lead. How can I help?

  My mother beams at him. You’re already helping, just by accepting the love between Matthias and me. Thank you for opening your mind and your heart to me. I promise, I won’t let you down.

  The image flickers and vanishes, and my grandfather lowers the Mind’s Eye and looks at me. I’m struck by how kind he was to my mom, which isn’t at all what I expected after what my father told me.

  “My mother wanted to unite zandara and andaba?” I ask after a moment.

  He nods. “She never got the chance. But you do, Eveny. You have the opportunity to make that kind of change.”

  I wipe away a few tears and feel a new sense of hope.

  “The stakes are so much bigger here,” my grandfather goes on. “So much more important than which boy you’ll wind up choosing.”

  “I know,” I say, embarrassed.

  “Eveny,” my grandfather says after a pause, “do you know that anyone wearing the Mind’s Eye can harness its power?”

  “You mean I could see one of my own memories?” I say, surprised.

  He nods. “The Mind’s Eye is already charmed. You just have to focus on a specific moment in time.” He hands me the crystal. “Do you want to try it?”

  I take it hesitantly. “I don’t know what to look at.”

  He pauses again before asking, “Do you remember the night your mother died?”

  My breath catches in my throat, and I nod.

  “Could you show it to me in the Mind’s Eye?”

  “But why?” I ask. I can’t imagine anything more painful to witness again.

  “Because her murder was never solved, Eveny,” my grandfather says. “And things are happening in Carrefour again, terrible things. What if what’s happening now is tied to what happened to her? What if your memories hold the key to saving us?”

  I h
ang my head. He has a point. “You’re right. I’ll give it a shot.”

  “You’re doing the right thing.” He chants softly as I close my eyes and force my mind back to that terrible night fourteen years ago. When I open my eyes again, the scene flickering on the surface of the Mind’s Eye is painfully familiar. The closed door of the parlor in our front hallway. A scream, light pouring out from beneath the door as someone flips a switch, Peregrine’s mother crying out Sandrine! in a strangled voice. Peregrine’s and Chloe’s mothers bursting from the parlor and running right past me, both of them stained by my mother’s blood.

  And then, the image begins moving into the parlor, as I knew it would. I was three years old, and the room looks huge around me as I make my way inside. I can hear my mother gasping for air, a terrible, rasping sound that I now know comes from the jagged wound to her neck. Mommy! I hear myself cry.

  And then the image bounds across the room as I dash to my mother’s side. She’s in a filmy white gown that’s already soaked crimson, and her arms are twisted at a strange angle. Blood pumps from her slashed neck in an even, slowing rhythm.

  No, Mommy, no! I whisper in the image, and I begin to cry now as I watch my tiny toddler arms wrap around my mother, trying to fix her, trying in vain to stop the life from seeping out of her.

  Eveny, my mother says, so low that I can barely hear her. I live on in you. Then her eyes close and her body goes limp.

  Mommy? Mommy, wake up!

  Sobbing, I hand the Mind’s Eye to my grandfather and turn away, trying to get ahold of myself.

  “I’m sorry,” my grandfather says, rubbing my back. “I’m very sorry I asked you to do that.”

  “No, you were right. If it could help us now, I had to try,” I tell him. “Did you see anything important?”

  He shakes his head. “You obviously didn’t see the killer.”

  “No,” I admit. I think about what I saw for a moment and add softly, “She said she lives on in me. What do you think she meant?” Hearing her voice again, her dying whisper, has undone me.

  He hesitates. “I think she wanted you to know that you’re magical too. She wanted you to be here, in this moment, knowing the extent of your abilities and of your responsibilities. What a wonderful gift.”

  “You’re right.” I feel a surge of power. My mother would have wanted me to fight, to stand up for all the things I care about and believe in.

  And just like that, I know for sure that I need to go to New Orleans tonight. I need to meet with the Main de Lumière faction if it means I have a chance to save this town. It’s what my mother would have done. I live on in you, she said. I have to do a better job of becoming the kind of queen she believed I could be. “Thank you,” I say, turning to my grandfather with a small smile. “Thank you for reminding me who I am.”

  For a moment, I consider telling him about my plans. After all, he seems to be supporting my right to choose my own fate. But then the words from the scroll come back to me, and I worry that if I involve my grandfather, the man from Main de Lumière will know, and our meeting will be off. I can’t take that chance.

  He stares at me before nodding and standing up. “I’m proud of you, Eveny.”

  He kisses me on the cheek and walks slowly out of the room.

  I drop by Peregrine’s place just past six to check on my sister queens.

  “We’ve chosen coffins,” Peregrine says after leading me inside, her eyes empty and sad. “The nicest ones we could find.”

  “Good.” I give her a hug. “Your moms would be grateful.” It seems like the wrong thing to say, but she hugs me back.

  She ushers me into the living room, where Chloe looks up at me blankly. “Hi, Eveny,” she says, her voice flat.

  “Hey. How are you holding up?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been so helpless.”

  Peregrine nods. “How do we avenge our mothers if we don’t even know how to find their killers?”

  “I know the feeling,” I say. “It’s been fourteen years, and I still have no idea who killed my mom.”

  “We have to avenge her death too,” Peregrine says. “We’ll all work together from now on. Finding the people who took our mothers will be the most important thing we’ve ever done.”

  We’re all silent for a moment, and I look away, guilt surging through me as I think about how I’m about to go off on my own to meet with the group that could very well be behind their mothers’ murders.

  “What is it?” Peregrine asks.

  “What’s what?”

  She narrows her eyes. “I feel like you’re hiding something.”

  “Nope,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m just upset.”

  She looks at me suspiciously before sighing. “Sorry. My emotions are so jumbled right now that I don’t know what to think anymore.”

  I make them some spaghetti for dinner, and we eat in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. My phone rings a few times, and Bram’s name shows up on my caller ID, but I don’t answer, and after his third call, I finally silence it.

  “Looks like someone really wants to talk to you,” Peregrine says, glancing at my phone.

  “It can wait,” I tell her, and she gives me a small smile.

  Just before ten, I tell the girls that my dad needs me home, and they both thank me for coming over. “That’s what sisters do,” I say, hugging them both extra tight. After all, I don’t know what will happen tonight.

  “You sure nothing’s up?” Peregrine asks.

  I force a smile. “Positive. Get some rest, okay?”

  I head toward the back wall, intending to cut across the edge of the cemetery to my property. As I expected, Caleb catches up with me before I leave Peregrine’s yard. “Where are you going?” he asks.

  “Home.”

  “Why didn’t you wait for me?” He sounds frustrated. “You know I’m supposed to stay with you.”

  “I knew you’d catch up,” I say without looking at him.

  “What did Bram want today?” he asks after we’ve walked for a few minutes.

  “What do you care?”

  He’s silent for a minute. “You know I care. Would you stop all this self-defensive bullshit, Eveny? Just be honest with me.”

  “There’s nothing to tell you, Caleb,” I say, looking straight ahead. “It was just a conversation between friends.”

  We part ways without another word at my back door, and I slip into my house. The living room is empty and silent, and I venture a guess that my grandfather is asleep upstairs and my father is out meeting with the mothers’ sosyete, trying to figure out a way to find the mothers’ killers. I glance out front and see only my grandfather’s silver Mercedes in the driveway.

  I wait until I see Caleb head toward the back of the yard, then I grab my grandfather’s keys from the hook in the front hall and hurry outside. I climb into his car and turn the key in the ignition, offering a little prayer of thanks when it starts up quietly. I’ve only driven a handful of times, but as I pull the car out of the driveway and begin making my way around Cemetery Road, I call on Eloi Oke and ask the spirits to help me get safely to New Orleans tonight.

  “Mesi, zanset,” I whisper three times aloud as I reach the gate some fifteen minutes later, after cutting across the Périphérie. I’ve just gotten out of the car to unlock the gate—a necessity when coming or going—when I see a pair of headlights slicing through the darkness behind me.

  “Crap.” My hand shakes as I turn the key and the gate begins to creak open. I hurry back to the car. If the person behind me intends me harm, leaving Carrefour is the stupidest thing I could do right now, because I’m much more protected within the town walls. But on the other hand, if I wait around and it’s just another Carrefourian headed out of town, I’d be wasting valuable time—time when my father or Caleb could realize I’m missing. I have to go.

  The gate opens completely, and I quickly push down on the gas pedal
, but the headlights are suddenly upon me. I see a dark vehicle pass my car and screech to a halt in front of my bumper, blocking the road. Panicked, I put the Mercedes in reverse, and that’s when I realize that I recognize the other car. It’s Caleb’s Jeep, and Caleb is leaping out of the driver’s seat and striding toward my car, looking furious.

  I shift the Mercedes into park and hesitantly roll the window down.

  “What the hell?” Caleb says, leaning in my window. His eyes are flashing.

  “Oh, hey,” I say. Guilt for trying to evade him surges through me. I know he’s mad.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Out?”

  He glares at me before reaching over me, turning off my engine, and pulling the key out of the ignition. “Get out of the car,” he says.

  Feeling like a child being scolded, I do as I’m told, because after all, there’s not much I can do without the keys. As soon as I’m out, he gets into the driver’s seat, shifts the car into reverse, and parks it by the side of the road. He climbs out and crosses back over to me. “Get in,” he says, gesturing to his Jeep’s passenger seat.

  I nod, already putting together an argument about why he should let me go to New Orleans as I scramble into his car. “I can explain,” I say after he’s gotten in and started the engine.

  “I sure hope so,” he says without looking at me. “Buckle up.” He puts the car in drive and accelerates through the gate just as it begins to swing closed.

  “Wait,” I say, turning around and looking behind us. He’s already gaining speed as we make our way down the bumpy country road that cuts through Fantome Swamp. “Where are we going?”

  “You tell me,” he says.

  I stare at him. “I thought you were coming to take me home. You’re going with me?”

  He gives me a small smile. “You didn’t think I’d let you take on Main de Lumière by yourself, did you? Now, are you going to give me directions, or am I going to have to guess?”