Circle of Fire (Prophecy of the Sisters, Book 3)
Page 19
I nod. “All right.”
I find I must fight the urge to go to Sonia this very minute. To apologize and beg her forgiveness. To see if there is anything I might do to help her. It will have to wait, for there is one more thing that must be discussed this night.
“We found a way,” I begin, looking briefly at Dimitri before turning my attention back to my aunt. “A way to keep the Souls at bay and allow me some measure of rest.”
She raises her eyebrows, waiting for me to continue.
“It is… Well…” I feel myself blushing and reprimand myself silently for behaving like a silly schoolgirl when the fate of the world hangs in the balance. “Dimitri stays with me. During the night. He does so to ensure that I do not do the Souls’ bidding while I sleep.”
“And I would like to continue staying with her at Milthorpe Manor until this is all over, for her own protection and the protection of everyone else in the house,” Dimitri adds. “I know it is unconventional, but you have my word that I will sit in a chair at Lia’s bedside through the night. Nothing more.”
At first Aunt Virginia does not reply. She simply stares at us as if we were speaking an entirely different language. Finally she shakes her head softly, looking at us both as if we are mad.
“Stay here? In Lia’s chamber?” She straightens her back. “I am well aware the prophecy has created some unconventional situations, but I can’t possibly allow this, Mr. Markov. Lia’s virtue is at stake, and while I’m certain you would honor your promise, it would look entirely untoward. Her reputation would never recover!”
I stand for a moment before kneeling in front of her and taking her hands in mine. “Aunt Virginia, you know that I love you as a mother, don’t you?”
She hesitates before nodding, and I believe I see the shine of tears in her eyes.
I try to soften my voice. “Then you must know that I say this with the utmost respect, but I’m…” I sigh, surprised at how difficult it is to defy her. “Well, I’m not asking your permission. Milthorpe Manor will always be your home. Always. But I am its mistress, and I’m afraid I must, in this instance, insist. Dimitri has seen to my safety on more than one occasion.
“I cannot fight the battle ahead without rest, and I cannot rest without someone to watch over me. You said yourself that everyone else is under attack as well. Under these circumstances, I think it wise to keep Dimitri in the house, for everyone’s sake.”
The hurt is visible on Aunt Virginia’s face, and I feel a pang of regret at having put it there. But I am no longer a child. I have fought many battles. I have suffered great loss. I have earned the right to speak for myself.
And there is no other way.
She rises with a sigh. “Very well. As you say, you are mistress of Milthorpe Manor.” There is no resentment in her voice, only weariness, and regret. “It is your decision to make.”
She leaves the room without another word, and I wonder why I am not pleased with my ability to finally choose my own path. To make my own decisions.
But it is not pleasure I feel; it is fear. Fear that I am not as equipped to make the decisions as I would like everyone to believe.
And fear that my making them could lead to the ruin of us all.
29
“Are you comfortable?”
Dimitri surveys me from the chair near my bed, having kissed me chastely on the forehead and tucked me in like a child. There is nothing remotely suggestive in his voice, but even now, with everything that hangs over our heads, his partially unbuttoned shirt and easy slouch are frighteningly appealing.
I nod. “Yes, thank you. Except I feel guilty that you’ll spend the night in that chair, though you do make it look rather pleasant.”
He grins, patting his knee. “Well, I’ve plenty of room for you, if you’d like a change of scenery.”
I am both pleased and appalled that we can joke so inappropriately at a time when so much hangs in the balance. I find myself returning his smile with one of my own.
“I don’t think Aunt Virginia would approve.”
He sighs dramatically, settling deeper into the chair. “Very well, then. Suit yourself.”
I close my eyes, finding comfort in the knowledge of his presence. The room is warm, my bed infinitely softer than the ground I have slept on for the past ten days. All of it conspires to make me drowsy, and it does not take me long to fall asleep.
And this time, for some reason, I do not dream.
Dimitri is resting in the room arranged for him by Aunt Virginia, and I can only assume Luisa and the others are still preparing for the day. I will have to speak to Luisa eventually, but right now it is Sonia who weighs heavily on my mind, and I stop in front of the door to her room, lifting my hand to knock.
I wonder if she will be able to forgive me. If things will ever be as they were. But these are questions that will not find answers in the hallway, and I force myself to knock before I can change my mind.
“Ruth, I wonder if you can—” The door opens more quickly than I expect, and Sonia stands in its frame, surprise evident on her face and the half-spoken sentence hanging in midair. “Lia! I… Come in!” She stands back, opening the door wider to allow me entry.
I step into the room, feeling shy with her for the first time since we met in the candlelit room where she once held séances long ago. “I’m sorry. Am I disturbing you?”
She laughs softly. “It’s quite all right. I simply assumed it was Ruth. Luisa no longer knocks and you…” Her voice trails off.
“I no longer come to visit.” I finish for her.
Her nod is slow.
I gesture to one of the chairs in front of the firebox. “May I?”
“Of course.” She moves to join me, and I remember when I would rush to her room and sit on her bed without ceremony. Sonia would settle next to me, and we would spend long hours talking, plotting, worrying. I feel a pang of sadness that we must so often lose something before we realize its value. I wish fervently that I could go back and do it all again with more understanding.
I look down at my hands, unsure how to begin. “Sonia…” Lifting my head, I meet her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Her face is impassive, her expression giving nothing away. “You have already apologized, Lia. More than once.”
I nod. “Yes, but I think even then, part of me felt entitled not to forgive you.”
“It’s perfectly understandable. What I did was unforgivable.” The pain in her voice is still raw and unvarnished.
“It should not have been.” I reach out to take her hand. “What I did was unforgivable. I didn’t honor our friendship and the many sacrifices you’ve made in its name. I didn’t make the same allowances for you that you’ve so readily made for me. Worst of all,” I take a deep breath, realizing all at once how true my next words are, “I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most.”
“The same could be said of me. Those days traveling through the woods to Altus…” Her voice becomes softer, and her eyes are clear even as she remembers. “Well, I hardly remember them. I was only later told that you were forced to stay awake to ensure the Souls did not use you as their Gate. It was my doing, and I was not even able to stand by your side as you suffered.”
We are silent as we remember the terrifying time when we were both at the mercy of the Souls—Sonia through her unwitting alliance with them and me through my fear that they would use me while I slept.
But the past is the past, and there it must stay. There is too much ahead to dwell on it any longer, and I finally look at Sonia and smile. “I’m sorry I wasn’t a better friend to you, Sonia. But if you can forgive me, I’d like to start over. To be friends as we once were.”
She leans over to embrace me. “I should like nothing more.”
It is not my imagination that the maids whisper as I make my way to the dining table. Though Dimitri and I made every effort to keep his presence in my chamber a secret, it was inevitable that someone would notice.
T
he other girls are already at the table—all except for Sonia, who is still upstairs, dressing. I settle myself next to Brigid, trying to ignore the sidelong glances of the serving girl as she spoons food onto my plate. I will have to explain Dimitri’s presence, but I cannot do so in the company of the household staff, so I sit stoically by, watching them serve and thinking that I like London society less and less the more time I spend in it.
“Did you sleep well, Lia?” Brigid’s voice startles me from my private thoughts, and I turn to her with a smile.
“I did. Remarkably well, actually. And you?”
She smiles. “It is wonderful to sleep in a bed again, though I did enjoy the outdoors on the way here.”
“I know what you mean.”
I hesitate for a moment, trying to think of a way to bring up Dimitri before deciding it is best to be direct. Lifting my teacup, I try to sound casual.
“I’m sure you’ve all heard that Dimitri will be staying with us.”
They meet one another’s eyes and it is obvious Dimitri’s presence was a topic of discussion even before I came to the table.
“Brigid tells us it is to look after you,” Luisa finally says. “To ensure that the Souls don’t use you while you sleep.”
I nod, grateful to Brigid for paving the way. “Aunt Abigail’s adder stone is cold, and it seems that without its power, I’m more vulnerable than I would like to admit. It is for all our sake that Dimitri will be here, though we must accept that there will be talk among the staff.”
Luisa laughs and waves of her hand. “Psh! I couldn’t care less what the household staff thinks! I would just like us all to survive to the end of this journey. If Dimitri’s presence increases that possibility, I’m all for it.”
I have already explained the situation to Sonia, but I look now to Helene and Brigid. “Do you have any objections?”
Brigid smiles. “If I had objections, I would have voiced them before now.”
I turn my eyes to Helene. “Helene?”
She furrows her brow as she chooses her words. “I don’t think my father would approve.”
An abrupt laugh escapes from Luisa’s full lips as she regards Helene. “Your father? Who plans to tell him? By the time you get a letter to Spain and your father gets one back to you, this will all be over!”
Helene straightens her back. She looks suddenly prim, though I have not noticed the quality in her before this moment. “Yes, well, just because I don’t have time to tell him doesn’t mean I should disobey his wishes.”
Luisa sighs. “I think it admirable that you wish to honor your father’s values, Helene.” She stops suddenly, her eyes surveying the ceiling as she ponders her next words. “Actually, that isn’t true. I think it ridiculous and shortsighted. But what I think is beside the point.”
I feel an urge to laugh hysterically, inappropriately, as Luisa continues.
“The thing is, there are bigger concerns at hand, don’t you think? Things like our survival,” she begins ticking them off on her fingers, “the fate of our souls, the future of mankind. Things such as that. I vote Dimitri stays.” She places her palms flat on the table in a gesture of finality as she meets Helene’s eyes. “And since we already know the others agree, I’m afraid you are outvoted.”
I try not to smile as Helene excuses herself from the table, her chin held high the whole time. It is Brigid who bursts into laughter once Helene’s footsteps have receded down the hall.
I resist the urge to do the same. “Do you think one of us should go after her?”
Luisa waves away my question as she takes a sip of tea. “She’ll be over it in an hour. Trust me, Sonia and I have learned how to deal with Helene.”
30
I am somewhat surprised when Aunt Virginia decides to accompany us on a stroll through town, but as she drops behind with Helene, I began to understand. They walk side by side in companionable silence, and I realize that living with Alice has made my aunt uniquely suited to understanding someone like Helene. She may not share Alice’s dark nature, but she sets herself apart in much the same manner. It seems natural that my aunt should give her special care, and I find myself grateful for her kind spirit.
The streets of London are bustling with midmorning traffic. Carriages rattle past as all manner of people rush to and fro. Luisa and I walk together, with Sonia and Brigid up ahead, talking easily as Sonia points out the sights.
“It’s nice to have you back, Lia.” I hear the smile in Luisa’s voice and turn to see her smiling. “You are back, aren’t you?”
Her words fill me with such sadness that I cannot return her smile. “Yes, I do believe I am. But…”
“What is it, Lia?” Her voice is gentle.
I look down at the cobblestones as I walk. “I was so hurt, so scared, by Sonia’s betrayal. And after you both returned from Altus, you seemed closer than ever before. Looking back, it seems mad to have worried over your loyalty, but at the time, it felt like I had everything to fear from every person in my midst. Can you forgive me?”
She reaches down, giving my hand a squeeze. “Oh, Lia! You’re such a silly thing! You needn’t apologize. Just tell me you’re back, that we are back, and everything will be behind us in an instant.”
I squeeze her hand in return, smiling in gratitude and wondering at the irony in something as dark as the prophecy bringing with it the rare and beautiful friends I call mine.
“Now,” she says, her dark eyes gleaming, “tell me what I’ve missed.”
For the next twenty minutes as we pass dress shops and bakeries, I do. I tell her about Loughcrew and the discovery of the Stone. I tell her about the Rite and how the sun lights it only once a year, during the equinox. I tell her how frightened I am that Alice won’t help us and how I think of little else but what to do if her refusal should come to pass.
“But how do all the pieces come together in the actual ceremony?” Luisa finally asks.
I am preparing to answer when Sonia, half a block in front of us, calls back, “We’re going into the hat shop!”
I wave her and Brigid forward. “Go ahead. We’ll be right along.”
They disappear into one of the many storefronts, and I look back at Luisa. “I didn’t understand it at first, either. But the more I think about it, the less complicated it seems.”
Luisa furrows her brow in concentration. “Well, perhaps I simply need to think about it more, then.”
I laugh aloud. “The final page of the prophecy says that we must return to the belly of the serpent. It makes sense that it refers to Avebury. You and all the other keys were born in proximity to it. The prophecy seems to say that’s where it all began, and so we should return there to end it. The belly seems to point to its center. If it really is a sacred place, its power may well be concentrated in its center in the same way the cavern under Chartres held special meaning.”
We come upon the hat shop, stopping in front of the window. Through it, we watch as Sonia and Brigid laughingly try on several enormous hats. They adjust them for each other, giggling until the shop owner glares their way.
“What of the… how is it phrased? The ‘Circle of Fire’?” Luisa asks.
“I’ve had dreams that speak to it, I think.” For a moment, it is not Luisa and me reflected in the glass, but the fire inside the circle from my dreams. The strange chanting. The hooded figures. “There are people chanting around a fire, and the Stone is propped atop a wooden mount, probably to catch the first rays of sun on Beltane.” I turn my head to look at her as Aunt Virginia and Helene reach us. “I think that’s how it’s supposed to go.”
Luisa nods somberly as Helene peers through the window at Sonia and Brigid, who replace two hats on their stands before grabbing two new ones.
“What are they doing?” Helene asks.
“They’re having fun.” There is an undercurrent of annoyance in Luisa’s voice.
I turn to Helene. “Would you like to go inside?”
She looks surprised. “I�
��ve no need for a new hat.”
Though I feel a moment’s sadness at her inability to enjoy herself, I cannot help the note of resignation in my sigh. Aunt Virginia comes to the rescue.
“Shall we go back?” she asks with a smile. “I could use a cup of tea.”
Dimitri returns from the Society with Gareth in tow, and we share a laughter-filled dinner as they play off each other in comical fashion. I take no notice of the passing hours, but by the time the men push away from the table to take brandy in the parlor, exhaustion has sunk its teeth into my bones. I want nothing save my quiet chamber, my soft bed, and some solitude in which to contemplate my options for bringing Alice around to our cause.
Even the thought of it is ludicrous, and I have to force myself to ignore the voice in my head that tells me it is impossible.
After bidding the others good night, I retire to my room to change and wash for bed. The flames are blazing in the firebox, and I crawl beneath the covers, trying to imagine what I will say to Alice.
And when.
Reason tells me that it must be tomorrow, for the time until Beltane grows shorter by the day. The journey itself—though not as long as the one to Altus or Ireland—will require planning, and with so large a party, we will have to allow for extra time.
I try to imagine the things that motivate Alice. The things that might give her pause in her desire to aid the Souls. But Alice’s motivation has always been clear. She seeks to gain as much authority as she can muster. She doesn’t care whether that power is wielded under rule of the Good, as it is now, or under rule of the Souls, as it will be if she has her way.
There is no one Alice loves. No one to whom she is loyal.
Unless one counts James.
The thought is but a glimmer in the deepest well of my heart, and I sit up in bed as the implications of such a development, if it were true, begin to click together in my mind.
Can one count James? Is it possible—even remotely possible—that Alice really loves him? The idea brings to mind the first ray of hope I’ve felt since the moment I figured out that the prophecy required my sister and I to work together.