Midnight Dolls

by Kiki Sullivan

  “Because you’d die too?”

  He looks wounded. “No. Because I can’t imagine a world without you in it. Because pushing you away was impossible; you live in my heart. Don’t you know by now that I love you?”

  I feel a surge of power shoot through me, and I know it’s because his words are true. Zandara is based in love, and the more love I’m giving and receiving, the stronger I become. “Then trust me,” I say. “If you love me, Caleb, you have to stay back.”

  He stares, his expression mournful and conflicted, but he stops. I turn to my father, who’s also walking toward me.

  “You too, Dad,” I say. “Please. I know what I’m doing. You have to believe in me.”

  He looks unsure at first, but then Caleb puts a hand on his shoulder, and my father stops. I take a long look at them, drawing strength from the love I see in both of their faces.

  Slowly, I turn back to the Sauvages. I spread my arms wide and think about all the love I’ve ever felt—from my mom, my dad, Aunt Bea, my grandfather, my friends, Caleb, Bram, even Peregrine and Chloe. I draw all of that love into me; I imagine it flowing from the air into my heart, the source of my power. My Stone of Carrefour burns hot against my chest, and I could swear that I feel the sachet Boniface made me, the one with my mom’s Rose of Life petals, heating up too. Mom, if you can hear me, I think, I need you now more than ever.

  “I’m here, Sauvage,” I say aloud. “Do what you will.”

  Bruno and Gustave both smile coldly. “Oh, Eveny, how very little you understand,” Bruno says. “We promised to save you, you see. As abhorrent as it is, we’ve made a deal.”

  “A deal? With whom?” Suddenly, my mind goes to Gerdeaux and the way he was trying to talk me into joining him. “I’ll never work with Main de Lumière, you know. Ever. Not after this.”

  He chuckles. “That’s not what I hear. My sources tell me you were meeting with my foolish pacifist cousin in New Orleans. Well, rest assured, Gerdeaux has been dealt with appropriately.”

  I swallow hard. “You killed him?”

  “What’s a little murder between friends?” he asks. His brother laughs and then fixes his empty eyes on me.

  “Who, then?” I demand. “Who are you working with? Who wants to keep me alive while you destroy everyone else I care about?”

  “The only person who’d have a motive to do such a crazy thing, Eveny,” he says, his voice tinged with amusement. “The only person who’d benefit from both Carrefour’s destruction and your survival. The only person powerful enough to make an alliance with him worth our while.”

  I stare at him, confused, before I suddenly understand exactly what he means. “My grandfather?” I whisper.

  I don’t want to believe it, but I know with instant certainty that he’s the only person in the world who would benefit from having Carrefour destroyed while I survive, for I’d presumably have no choice but to return to Caouanne Island and assume what he feels is my rightful place there. And because of his advanced age, he’s surely one of the most powerful magic practitioners on earth, which must have made him all the more appealing to Les Jumeaux Noir. Still, how could he betray his own flesh and blood that way? “No, he wouldn’t do that,” I protest weakly. “He would never take your side over mine. Never.”

  Bruno Sauvage throws his head back and laughs. “Oh, but he has, Ms. Cheval. I can see by the look in your eyes that you already know that deep in your heart. And now, with his help, we’ll destroy your town. But first, let’s have a little fun, shall we?”

  26

  My grandfather’s enormous betrayal shatters me, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. But then I straighten up and manage to pull myself together. My grandfather must have been aligned with the Sauvages from the start, which means that everything he’s said to me since appearing in Carrefour has been a lie. I haven’t really lost anything, I try to reassure myself. I never really had his love. He was pretending all along.

  The thought is little comfort, but it’s enough to help me refocus on the situation at hand as Bruno Sauvage begins chanting in French. He’s saying something like, “Pour la vie que vous vivez, vous payez un prix. Je nettoie le monde de péché avec votre sang. Équilibre est rétabli.” I search my rudimentary French knowledge and realize he’s saying we must pay the price for the lives we’re living, that the world will be cleansed with our blood, and that balance will be restored.

  Something in the air shifts, the way it does when I cast a charm, and I know now that my traitorous grandfather is close by, controlling the ring of fire with magic. It begins to close in, and I can already feel its heat, sharp and deadly. The smoke is making it hard to breathe, and as the flames get closer, I can already feel my skin blistering, turning red and raw. The pain is almost unbearable.

  “It’s about time you meet some of my followers, don’t you think?” Bruno says, turning back to me, his icy eyes flashing. “We don’t actually plan to kill you, of course, but if it happens anyhow, well then, I suppose you weren’t as powerful as we thought. And you never know, if you get into trouble, perhaps your grandfather will save you.”

  “I don’t need his help,” I shoot back. I raise my voice and yell toward the flames, “You hear that, Grandfather? You’re dead to me!”

  “I’m growing impatient, and I don’t have time for family disputes,” Bruno says with exaggerated boredom. “Come, soldiers!” he calls toward the flames. “Come join us.”

  Three shadowy figures emerge, backlit by the flames. It takes me only a second to recognize them. Drew’s mother; my physics teacher, Mr. Cronin; and Cristof’s assistant, Sharona. They’re the insiders working for Les Jumeaux Noir. And in an instant, I know they’ve been against us all along. Drew’s mother isn’t a shock, of course. I’m surprised to see mild-mannered Mr. Cronin, but I’m stunned most of all to realize Sharona is a Main de Lumière operative. After all, she was a member of the mothers’ sosyete. Suddenly, I have the feeling she was somehow responsible for luring them to their deaths. I wonder if she was involved in my mother’s murder too.

  I stare them down, and as I think about the depth of their betrayal, my anger flares. Something in me sparks, and I can feel heat pouring into my fingers, something that has never happened before. When I hold my hands up to look at them, my fingertips are a furious red, but I’m not in pain. Instead, it feels like my whole body is buzzing.

  I glance at my father, who’s staring at the advancing trio. He too has his hands outstretched. His gaze meets mine for a second, and I mouth, Andaba? as I hold up my fingers.

  He looks surprised, but he nods. “It means you’re channeling a great deal of power. But I didn’t teach you how to do that.”

  “I think my body knows how anyway,” I say. After all, zandara is fueled by love and andaba by anger. The stronger the emotions, the stronger the magic, and for the first time in my life, I have both feelings flooding through me with equal strength. I can feel power pumping through my veins.

  Drew’s mother is the first to attack, coming at me with a knife, just like her son did a few weeks earlier. “This is for Drew!” she says, lunging for my chest. I hold my breath and force myself to focus my love and anger.

  “Come to us now, Eloi Oke, and open the gate,” I whisper, just as the blade of her knife slices into my upper arm. Behind me, I can see Caleb and my father hurrying toward me despite my warnings, but I can’t have them in danger too. I have to stay focused and work quickly.

  “Caleb! Dad!” I yell. “I mean it! Stay back! You have to trust me or we’re all going to die!” I focus on my Stone of Carrefour, and as I stagger forward with the pain of my wound, I manage to call on Eloi Oke two more times. I reach for my Stone of Carrefour and quickly chant, “Prunella vulgaris, coriander, and rue, I invoke your power. Spirits, help heal my wounds and protect me from harm.” But that’s just my zandara side, and I know I’ve tapped into only a fraction of my power.

  As the words leave my mouth, several drops of my blood fall from the gash in
my arm onto the dirt below me. I can feel the ground rumble slightly, and I know Drew’s mother can feel it too, because her eyes widen, and she looks down. Something flickers in the air in front of us, then vanishes before I can tell what it is.

  I gather myself. “I never meant to hurt your son!” I tell Drew’s mother. “I didn’t want him to die. But if you led him to this, to Main de Lumière, you might as well have killed him yourself!”

  I’m trying to draw out the verbal battle with her, because the Sauvage twins are focused on what’s happening between us and aren’t noticing what’s going on behind them. Liv has quietly made her way over to my sister queens and is untying them from the stakes. Peregrine is still out cold and slumps to the ground, but Chloe, although unsteady, is strong enough to begin walking toward me, helped along by Liv. I feel a surge of hope. If I can cast with another queen, my magic will be exponentially stronger. Still, to be as powerful as possible, I need three, and Peregrine is clearly not an option.

  “The only thing I got wrong was trusting you and your dirty little mother, who had the gall to pretend to be my friend,” Drew’s mom says, lunging at me again with her knife. I dodge her blade, but Mr. Cronin moves toward me at the same time, his features warped with anger. I twist out of the path of his knife, but not entirely; the edge of the blade nicks my elbow, and I cry out in pain.

  “You’re dead, Cheval,” he says, already preparing to come at me again. But I touch the wound and with my bloodied fingers reach for the muerte dust that hangs from my wrist cuff. I quickly recite the words my father taught me. “Con mi sangre, regreso a su intención.”

  I don’t know if the charm will work in a situation like this, though, so I’m surprised when Mr. Cronin recoils immediately and falls to the ground, blood oozing from his chest, his eyes wide and lifeless. It takes me a second to realize that I’ve killed him the way he intended to kill me. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, because I truly didn’t want him to die, but there’s no time to feel bad, because Sharona is coming at me now.

  “You uppity bitch,” she says, swooping her arm forward and slicing the knife toward me.

  “Please, Sharona, stop!” I cry, dodging the blade just in time. I don’t want to have to kill her too, but her face is twisted with rage, and I wonder what lies Les Jumeaux Noir have been telling her to fill her with so much hatred. She comes at me again with the knife, and I touch my fingers to the muerte dust cuff and repeat the words of the charm. She falls back, wounded but not dead, and I realize that as a member of the mothers’ sosyete, she has probably cast some sort of protection charm on herself, so she’s out of commission for the moment, but she’s still a threat.

  I fend off two more attempted jabs from Drew’s mother before I cry out, “Mrs. Grady, please think about what you’re doing! I don’t want to have to kill you!”

  But her eyes are flashing wildly, and her sneer makes her face nearly unrecognizable. “I plan to kill you first.” As she lunges viciously for me again, I reach for my open wound, touch the cuff, and with some regret, whisper the words to stop her. She falls back, her eyes already wide and blank, blood pouring from a gaping wound that’s opened in her chest. Like Mr. Cronin, she’s dead in exactly the same way she planned to kill me. A few feet away, Sharona is still unconscious. I sink to my knees, gasping for breath.

  Bruno Sauvage lets out a long, low whistle and claps a few times as I turn back to him. “My, my, you’re a worthier adversary than I imagined you’d be,” he says. “I hadn’t expected that you’d be so well-versed in andaba already. Still, everyone you love is going to die regardless. It’s unavoidable, I’m afraid. Your sister queens. Your father. Your protector. Your aunt. Even your useless friend, who I’m sure will regret getting involved in this mess.”

  I glance at Liv, but she doesn’t look frightened—she looks furious. Fortunately, Bruno still doesn’t seem to be paying her any attention. She’s making her way toward me with a half-conscious, limping Chloe.

  I gather all my strength, struggle to my feet, and direct the andaba charm toward the twins. “Con mi sangre, regreso a su intención!” I shout, feeling the fury pour out of me. But nothing happens; Bruno and his brother are unharmed, and the fire continues to advance.

  Bruno chuckles. “Valiant try, Ms. Cheval, but your magic can’t stop us, even if you are some sort of andaba-zandara abomination. Your grandfather is much more powerful than you are, even with your dual blood. He’s been practicing for years, and he has assured me that he knows all the tricks you might try. Only the power of three Queens of Carrefour could save you, and as I’m sure you’ve realized, that’s not going to happen.”

  “Then where is he?” I demand, trying not to sound as panicked as I feel. “If my grandfather wants everyone I love dead, you’d think he’d have the guts to come out and face me. But instead, he’s a spineless coward, just like you.”

  “I’m growing tired of your insults,” Bruno says. “I see Chloe St. Pierre has recovered somewhat, and apparently, you think there’s some use in having her join you.” He pauses to give Liv and Chloe an almost amused look. “But no matter. Your third queen seems quite unable to help, and I intend to make sure she stays that way. Without her, I’m afraid there’s simply no way you can beat us.”

  “I’ll never let you take this town,” I tell him, my heart full of resolve. He’s triggering a blend of emotions in me—love for my town and fury at him—that’s perfectly suited to bring out my zandara and andaba powers.

  “I’m not sure what makes you think you have a choice,” he says. “Without the power of three queens—or at least three kings, but you don’t have that either—you’re just filling the last few minutes of your loved ones’ lives with empty, meaningless babble.” He sighs and shakes his head, as if I’m boring him. He turns toward the flames and yells, “Brother Desjardins, let’s get this fire moving, shall we? I’m running out of patience.”

  The fire begins advancing more quickly, and Caleb steps closer to me. “We have to do something,” he says. “They’re going to burn us alive.”

  “No. I won’t let that happen,” I say, and turn to my father. “Is there anything I can do with andaba to stop this?”

  He shakes his head miserably. “Not without another king. It’s only me and you here.”

  That’s when I notice that the wound on my shoulder from Drew’s mother’s knife has opened wider, and a steady drip of blood is falling onto the dirt. I reach out instinctively to stop the bleeding, to press my shirt into the wound, but there’s something flickering in front of me, just like there was when my blood first hit the ground minutes ago. It looks like a faint shadow, as if I’m seeing the reflection of someone who’s not really there. Each time a drop of my blood lands, the hazy image gets a little clearer and then vanishes again. “Do you see that too?” I ask my father.

  “See what?” he asks.

  “Eveny, you’re bleeding,” Aunt Bea says, stepping forward to touch my arm. I turn to her and see that her face is white.

  “Yeah, well, that seems like the least of our problems right now,” I say.

  “No, that’s not what I mean,” she says quickly. “You have to tell me: do you have your mother’s Rose of Life petals somewhere on you?”

  I nod and gesture to the sachet around my neck. My father gasps, startling me. “What’s going on?” I ask, first looking at him and then at Aunt Bea.

  “I never believed it could work,” Aunt Bea breathes, her eyes wide with awe. But there’s something else in her expression too: hope. “The Rose of Life . . . My God. She succeeded after all.”

  “What are you talking about, Aunt Bea?” I ask. “What about the Rose of Life?”

  The Sauvage twins are staring at us. The fire is advancing. We probably have another sixty seconds before it reaches Peregrine, another ninety before it closes in around all of us.

  “Do you remember what your mother told you when she was dying, Eveny?” Aunt Bea asks urgently.

  “‘I live on in you,’�
�� I say. “I assumed she meant her magic lived on in me.”

  “But what if she meant it literally?” Aunt Bea says. “If she succeeded in imbuing the rose with power, you can bring her back because you share her blood. But a drop here and there isn’t enough. That’s why you’re only seeing her shadow. She’s trying, but she can’t cross the boundary between life and death with so little blood spilled.”

  The fire is roaring toward us, but suddenly, I’m very cold. “What are you saying?”

  There’s a faraway look in Aunt Bea’s eye as she bends to pick up the knife that Drew’s mother dropped when she fell. “She can be your third queen, Eveny. It’s the only way. She lives on in me, too.” I can see tears rolling down her cheeks, and I take a step forward, confused about what she’s saying. She holds up a hand to stop me and adds quickly, “I’ve done all I can to protect you. Now it’s up to you. I love you, Eveny. Never forget that. I’ll see you again someday, on the other side.”

  It takes me a split second to realize what she’s about to do. “No!” I cry, rushing to grab the knife from her, but she’s already slitting her own wrists, slumping to the ground. Blood pours out of her onto the dry earth.

  “Aunt Bea, no!” I scream again, throwing myself at her, grabbing her, trying to stem the gushing flow of her blood. But the cuts are too deep. I can’t stop it. I hold her, sobbing, as the life seeps out of her. She’s the one person who has been with me my entire life, and now, I’m holding her dead body in my arms. “No, no, no!” I scream. “Aunt Bea, how could you do this? What were you thinking?”

  As her blood soaks the ground, something rises in the darkness, something smoky and swirling. I can hear Bruno shouting in the distance; I can feel the flames licking closer and Caleb’s hands on me, trying to pull me away from Aunt Bea’s lifeless body, but all of it feels very far away. I can only stare at the swirling cloud as a voice projects from it.

  “The Rose of Life,” it says, and in that instant, I understand what has happened. Aunt Bea has sacrificed herself so that my mother—her sister—can come back long enough to help save Carrefour. Like me, she shared my mother’s blood. “Quickly,” says the voice, which I now recognize as my mother’s. “Pour your sachet on the ground where your aunt Bea fell. When the Rose of Life mixes with her blood, it will bring me back.”