Changeling (Sorcery and Society Book 1)

by Harper, Molly

  Gavin grinned. “Well, it’s fortunate that you live with the head of the Demeter Society. It should make your Spring Interview a bit easier, when your time comes. Or are you planning to apply to some other research guild?”

  I looked up and he was looking at me, as if he was trying to read me. Was this question a test?

  “I believe Auntie Aneira would be harder on me than any other candidate,” I muttered.

  An expression of relief made Gavin’s face relax and he laughed. “You’re probably right.”

  The dance wound to a close and Gavin bowed before me. “Thank you for a delightful dance, Miss Reed. I can see my sister, standing behind you, bouncing on her toes and waving for me to bring you back to her.”

  Laughing, I turned to see Alicia’s performance, but Mr. Winter stepped in front of me.

  “Cassandra, dear, I am sorry, but Mrs. Winter needs you. Party business, you understand. Mr. McCray, I am afraid you must excuse us.”

  “Of course, Miss Reed, I hope to secure another dance, later this evening.” Gavin inclined his head. I remembered to curtsy, but my cheeks had flushed so hot that I had to stare at the polished ballroom floor. “Until then, I’ll have to content myself with letting the pixie stand on my feet while we circle.”

  I might have laughed, but the tight tense lines around Mr. Winter’s mouth were making me nervous. I watched Gavin spin his sister out on the floor and then followed Mr. Winter’s sedate but determined pace out of the ballroom to his office.

  “Is there a problem, sir?” I asked quietly.

  “Not sure yet,” he whispered. “Just stay calm and remember the backstory Mrs. Winter created for you. Don’t cower and don’t panic. Use every ounce of that winsome charm you’ve cultivated. You’ll be fine. We’re all depending on you.”

  “That doesn’t help with the panicking, sir,” I said, removing my mask.

  Frowning, Mr. Winter led me into his office. Despite the fire crackling in the grate, the room seemed filled with shadows and men I didn’t recognize. At least they’d removed their masks for this little tête-à-tête. They were standing at attention, arms crossed over their chests, not quite scowling as I entered, but they were definitely lacking the pleasant social expressions I was used to seeing.

  Mrs. Winter was standing by the fireplace, her hands folded at her waist. Mr. Crenshaw was sitting at the center of the table, glaring at me. His gloved hand stroked over the silver owl’s head topping his cane.

  I had a hard time dragging my eyes away from the owl, the symbol of the Grimstelles, as Mr. Crenshaw spoke. “Miss Reed, we represent the Guild committee on antiquities and artifacts. We have assembled here to discuss your progress with the Mother Book.”

  Could Mr. Crenshaw be the necromancer that sent Tom after me? He’d been unhappy about the way the Mother Book was being handled. Had he decided to take me out of the equation so another more suitable, non-Winter-related Translator could be found?

  The room was quiet.

  Because I was supposed to be talking.

  I glanced at Mrs. Winter, who was seething though a perfectly poised smile. I cleared my throat and tried to pull on a pleasant expression. “Well, that seems like a lovely party game, what are the rules?”

  Mr. Winter snorted, covering it with a cough. His humor, and the pride that lit Mrs. Winter’s eyes from across the room gave me courage enough to relax my shoulders ever so slightly. Mr. Crenshaw didn’t seem to share Mr. Winter’s amusement.

  “As the Translator, your lack of contact with this committee is unacceptable, Miss Reed,” he growled.

  “I sent letters to my uncle, reporting what I’ve learned from the book so far,” I said. “Did he not share them with you?”

  Mr. Crenshaw bristled. “Yes, of course, but it was hardly the sort of information we expected from the Mother Book, a good deal of it is information we already have. We expect results, Miss Reed. We expect revelations.”

  I tilted my head, my stare drifting back and forth between Mr. Crenshaw’s bloated face and the owl-head cane topper. What sort of revelations was he expecting?

  While I pondered this, Mr. Crenshaw continued, “You should have appeared before us after the book chose you. You do not have the right to keep that information to yourself. Mrs. Winter has failed in presenting you to us. That is a failure we’re addressing now.”

  I took a deep breath. “Am I to understand you chose to interrupt the social event of the season to chastise me for not answering an invitation you never issued?”

  Mrs. Winter smiled at me. This was a good sign.

  “You should have known to contact us,” Mr. Crenshaw said.

  “And how would I have known that?” I asked. “There hasn’t been a Translator in almost one hundred fifty years. I wasn’t familiar with the protocol. I wasn’t even aware that such a commission existed until you mentioned it at the school social, which, now that I think about it, was a perfectly polite opportunity to discuss scheduling a meeting – which you failed to do. But I do apologize. The next time an ancient artifact of immense magical power chooses me as its conduit to magical society, I’ll be sure to send you a note.”

  While my back was straight and my tone firm, my stomach was practically twisting inside out. I was sassy-mouthing the very authorities I’d spent so much time fearing. These men could take me away. They could lock me in some Guild Enforcement facility where the Mother Book would be my only company.

  But I was so tired of being afraid. All of my life I’d been afraid of people like Mr. Crenshaw. I wasn’t that scared little girl anymore. I was powerful. I was the Translator. Magic had chosen me, when it had every reason to pass me by. I wasn’t going to be pushed around by a man with a silly cane-topper.

  “Young lady, do you understand your position here?” Mr. Crenshaw thundered. “You are a child. A mere slip of a girl, barely schooled. You are not qualified to Translate the text on your own. You need our supervision.”

  “I understand my position perfectly well, Mr. Crenshaw. I don’t understand yours.” I told him.

  “My position – my position?” Mr. Crenshaw thundered. “You should know that your selection as Translator is under review. If necessary, we will take the book back from you until we believe you are fit to serve.”

  “The book chose me, not you. I do not need your supervision. I will provide you with a complete list of spells and information the book has presented to me since I began Translating. Not because I am afraid of your disapproval, but because they could be of help to other people. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am missing a rather lovely party that my aunt and uncle spent quite a lot of time organizing.”

  Mrs. Winter inclined her head at me and mouthed the words, “Well done.”

  I spun on my heel and walked out of the room – without a curtsy – while Mr. Crenshaw fumed. But once I got into the hallway, all of my righteous indignation drained out of me. I needed to hide. I wanted to run into the kitchen and cry to my mother. I wanted to eat about a dozen petit fours.

  I heard footsteps beside me and I was relieved when Gavin’s voice asked, “Are you all right. You’re very pale.”

  “Just a little light-headed,” I told him. “This dress is so heavy and the room is rather warm.”

  “Should I got get you something?” Gavin asked, his hands closing around my arms, much like that morning when he’d hauled me up from the sidewalk. Did he remember that, I wondered dizzily. Why didn’t he remember that? “A glass of water? Tea? Alicia always liked peppermint tea when she’s ill. I’m at a loss, here, Cassandra.”

  “No, I’ll be fine,” I insisted weakly.

  “McCray?” Owen’s voice sounded behind us. “What are you doing? Cassandra, are you all right?”

  Gavin glared at Owen as I gave a small shake of my head. Owen looked around and looped his arm through mine. He said, loudly, just in case some of the guests could hear, “This is what happens when you over-indulge in lemon tarts, cousin. You know you’re allergic. Let that be
a lesson to you.”

  I gave him a weak slap on the arm.

  “I’ll take it from here, McCray. Try the punch.” Owen said as he led me into one of the lesser parlors, the room where Mrs. Winter had couriers wait while she wrote correspondence. This was good. Quiet and cool air were just what I needed.

  “Why do you antagonize him? He’s a nice boy.”

  “Because he’s a nice boy and I can,” Owen told me. “Now what’s wrong with you?”

  Owen closed the door behind us and I bent over the parlor chair as much as I could in my cumbersome gown.

  The Mother Book,” I whispered. “They say they don’t trust me with the Mother Book because they don’t know anything about me. They expect results. And then I sassed them. I sassed them severely. What if they look into my background? They’re going to find out about me.”

  “Stop,” Owen said, giving my shoulders a light shake. “You can’t talk like that, not now when there are ears everywhere. Mother will fix it. You’ll see. Mother will find some information or some weakness in the men on the commission and she’ll exploit it. You are going to be fine. I need you to listen to me. You are going to be safe. I promise. I just need you to take some deep breaths and go back out to the party before the guests start to suspect something is wrong.”

  I nodded. I just needed a moment of quiet and calm. “Could I have a few minutes to myself?”

  “Of course,” he said, stepping away from me. “Just a few minutes. I am going to go get you some water. I’ll be right back.”

  I nodded and closed my eyes. I had to keep calm. I had to keep that courage that had me firing back at Mr. Crenshaw as if he had no right to question me. I had to look every inch the confident Coven Guild member. I took deep breaths, commanding my heartbeat to slow. I wished Phillip was here to chirp and coo in my ear. That always seemed to help.

  Within moments, someone threw the door open. I turned toward the noise to find Mary standing there in her black and white maid’s uniform, her face purple with rage. I stepped back, hindered by my giant skirts. My fingers fanned out, and I felt a hot energy running down my arms, gathering in the metal on my palms.

  “This is your fault,” Mary growled at me in a way that had me reaching for my reticule and the blade hidden inside.

  I gasped. “What’s my fault? Are Mum and Papa all right?”

  “If you’d just been a decent sister to me! If you’d just done what I asked! But no, you had to be selfish and steal the life I wanted, the life I deserve. I’m the one who should be out there, in a fancy dress, laughing with Owen. I shouldn’t be stuck back in the kitchen working my fingers to the bone.”

  I tipped my head back and rolled my eyes so hard that they ached. After all this, that was Mary’s main concern. Owen. My life hung in the balance. Magical society could be at stake. The dead were walking. And Mary was still obsessed with Owen.

  “I’m so sick of hearing about your stupid crush on Owen Winter, Mary,” I sighed. “There’s more happening in the world beyond your doomed, pointless feelings for a boy who doesn’t want anything to do with you. But you can’t see past yourself. You’ve never been able to see past what you want, the shiny thing just out of your reach. Well, I’m done protecting you from yourself, Mary. You’re just going to have to grow up!”

  “Owen loves me.”

  “Owen’s first instinct is to turn around and run away whenever he sees you.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Tell me one thing you love about Owen,” I asked her. “Tell me one thing about him, that doesn’t have anything to do with his money or his looks, that makes you think he’s the love of your life.”

  “He’s so… he… well, you can just tell by the way he looks at me that he’s thoughtful and kind and courtly,” Mary stammered.

  “Owen Winter is a lot of things, but courtly is not one of them,” I told her. “Owen is kind, sometimes, and he can be thoughtful. But you have to work through a lot of layers of self-interest and sarcasm before he lets you see that. He has no patience for people who only want to be near him because he’s a Winter. I know this because I’ve taken the time to be his friend. Mary, the person you think you’re in love with doesn’t exist. You’ve risked us all, you’ve embarrassed me, made me cover for you when you misbehaved, all because of some fairy tale in your head.”

  “Well, I’m not the one pretending to be someone I’m not!” Mary practically shrieked. “I’m not a Snipe in Guild Guardian clothing! You think you’re one of them, but you’re not! You’re just like me, Sarah! You’re nothing special!”

  A sly, new voice asked, “Is that so?”

  Over Mary’s shoulder, I saw Callista framed in the doorway, a triumphant smile curling her carefully painted red mouth.

  “Callista, don’t,” I said.

  “Are you saying Cassandra is a Snipe?” Callista asked Mary, her tone ingratiating as she stepped closer, removing her Queen of Hearts mask.

  “Yes, Sarah is my sister. We’re both Snipes,” Mary insisted, shoving her mussed hair back from her face. “We’ve served Raven’s Rest all of our lives, until Sarah was sent to your fancy school.”

  “Mary, be quiet,” I said, shoving her back behind me. “Callista, she doesn’t know what she’s saying. I think she’s ill or enchanted. Something is obviously wrong with her.”

  “I’m not ill!” Mary shouted. “I’m telling the truth.”

  And for the first time in my life, I struck out at Mary, not with my fists, but with magic. Wit slid out of my reticule, and I drew a symbol for “quiet” with its point.

  Mary was thrown against the wall with the force of it, her lips pressed tight together.

  While Mary tried to scream through her sealed mouth, I turned to the door. “Callista, surely, I can count on your discretion. Embarrass me all you want at school, but I don’t think you want to cross Mrs. Winter over an incident with a servant. Not when she’s put so much work into this ball.”

  “Well, you and I never have seen eye to eye on social issues.” Callista smirked at me. “I believe I need to go talk to some people. Have a lovely evening, Sarah.” And with one last triumphant waggle of her fingers, she flounced away.

  I whirled on Mary, who was still struggling against the bond I’d put on her mouth.

  “What have you done?” I demanded. “All of our lives, Mary, I’ve made excuses for you. I’ve tried to cover up your silliness, your recklessness. No more. I can’t help you anymore.”

  I walked out of the parlor and shut the door behind me, sealing it with magic. I walked into the ballroom, but it seemed like I carried some sort of bubble of silence around me. Conversation died as I moved through the room. People stopped talking the moment I approached them. Mrs. Winter was standing with Mr. Winter at the bottom of the staircase, a stricken expression on her face.

  “What. Happened?” she spat quietly through her pleasant mask. “You did so well in the office with that dreadful Crenshaw. You were on the verge of redeeming the evening admirably. What happened?”

  “Mary,” I whispered. “Mary happened.”

  16

  Remorse and Retreat

  Despite the usual policy of not leaving the Winter ball before midnight, guests started departing the moment I entered the ballroom. It wasn’t exactly a stampede, but the elegant party atmosphere fizzled as guests slowly ebbed out the front door. I retired to my room, pleading a headache. I saw Ivy’s stricken face as I passed, but I didn’t have time to explain.

  I laid on my bed, not giving one care for the gown I was wrinkling to oblivion. I would lose Ivy’s friendship. Now that she and Alicia knew I was a liar and a fraud, the only two friends who had ever liked me for me would never speak to me again. I found that to be more devastating than the idea that at any moment, the Guild agents could break into my room and haul me away to a secret lab somewhere.

  As Martha helped dislodge me from my gown, Mrs. Winter paced and drilled me on the specifics of the incident with Mary, who had al
ready been sacked and told never to return to Raven’s Rest. I had no idea what would happen to her. By firing her, Mrs. Winter had guaranteed Mary would never find employment in any Guardian house in the Capitol. Mary would have to leave home to earn a living. She would have no references, which would mean taking a job in one of the lesser circles. At the moment, I couldn’t find it in me to give one floating fig.

  “Damage control is key,” Mrs. Winter said, still pacing. “We must carry on as if nothing occurred, be seen socializing, shopping, attending meetings of the Demeter Society. You should spend time with your friends, before going back to school in January. Everything as planned.”

  “Yes, I would think that the students at school will welcome me back with open arms, now that they’ve heard I’ve been lying to them from the moment we met.”

  “Are you trying to be funny?” Mrs. Winter demanded as I slipped into a nightgown and sat on the foot of my bed. “Are you trying to provoke me now by being sarcastic and disrespectful?”

  I pursed my lips. “No, that would be ungrateful, and I wouldn’t dream of that.”

  “I understand that you are frustrated and upset right now, Cassandra, but we have to present a united front. I have just as much to lose now as you do. We’re in this together. I will not let anything happen to you. I know I haven’t always shown it, but I have become very fond of you.”

  I closed my eyes and willed the gathering tears away. I had not expected that. I had come to respect Mrs. Winter as a mentor, but feelings of fondness? I’d never hoped to be anything more than a servant or tool to her.

  “And I am certainly not going to let you drag me down with you.”

  Ah, there was the Mrs. Winter I knew.

  Mrs. Winter stood in front of me. “If someone so much as suggests that you are socially inferior, we will not even entertain the ideas as anything but ridiculous.”

  “How? People surely heard Mary yelling, they had to hear what she was yelling. You know better than anyone how quickly the rumors will spread. How do you expect to get away with this?”