Lily

by Webb, Holly

  Georgie wound her fingers in her hair, pulling it so tightly that it had to hurt. ‘It must be because your own magic’s working now. That’s why I saw you all of a sudden, and you broke Mama’s binding.’

  Henrietta flashed her startlingly white teeth. ‘She’s had a busy day.’

  ‘You have to hide it!’ Georgie suddenly twisted round to grab at Lily, making her gasp and pull back, wriggling away and squirming into the pillows. She’d never seen Georgie look so strange. Her eyes had darkened so that they were almost black now.

  Henrietta had backed away, growling on a low, disturbing note, her paws catching on the bedcovers.

  ‘Why?’ Lily faltered. Was Georgie jealous? Lily swallowed tears. She’d hoped her big sister would be proud of her. Ever since Georgie had stopped talking to her, Lily had told herself that she hated her sister. Georgie had abandoned her, after all. But secretly – so secretly she hadn’t even known it herself – she had wanted to show Georgie that she could be special too.

  Georgie let go of her, sighing. ‘I frightened you.’ She smoothed Lily’s crumpled sleeve apologetically. ‘Lily, don’t you see? I’ve always done what she’s told me. I went along with it, like a good, dutiful daughter. I wouldn’t dare do anything else. But until you asked me, I’ve never thought about why. Or what I’m actually supposed to do! And that’s just stupid.’ She laughed. ‘I can tell you think so. You’re both trying not to look disgusted, but the dog isn’t very good at keeping a straight face.’

  Lily glanced down at Henrietta, who did indeed look very disapproving. She could tell that the pug wanted to leap up and down, and pound Georgie with questions – just as she did.

  ‘You really don’t know what it is she’s training you for?’ she asked, her voice a little disbelieving. ‘But you always told me… About how terrible the queen is, and that the Decree was wrong, and one day all the magicians will stand together and prove it. You’re the one who’s going to put everything back the way it should be.’

  Georgie nodded. ‘I only told you that because it’s what Mama told me! She’s been telling me it for ever, Lily! Since I was too little to read a book of spells, even. It’s always the prophecy, and my destiny, and our heritage. But what does that mean? How am I actually supposed to do it?’

  ‘Why haven’t you just asked her?’ Henrietta demanded. Her wrinkles were still arranged in a disapproving stare.

  Georgie took a breath, as though she was about to speak, but then she sighed, sinking her chin in her hands, and staring down at the bedspread. When she looked up at last, her eyes were their usual blue, but her face was still distinctly miserable. ‘I suppose partly I was scared to. But I think the binding spell stopped me asking that too. She doesn’t want me to know. So it must be something awful.’

  ‘What sort of thing?’ Lily frowned. ‘I always thought it meant you were going to be so good at magic that no one could stop you doing it, and you’d be able to persuade the queen that magic was a good thing. All the magicians would be allowed to come out of hiding at last, and you would lead them. Father would be pardoned, and everyone would be happy again…’ Lily was smiling as she said it, her voice slow and dreamy. It was her favourite daydream, after all. But then she trailed off, realising how silly the words sounded in a dark, grubby room, with her frightened sister and a talking dog.

  Henrietta sniffed. ‘That sounds like a fairy tale to me.’

  Lily swallowed, feeling her fantasy world slip away. ‘I suppose it isn’t very likely, after all… But Mama’s always said Georgie would save us. How else is she going to do it? Especially if she doesn’t even know what she’s doing.’

  There was silence in the bedroom, as everyone considered this, worriedly.

  ‘Perhaps Mama doesn’t know how you’re going to do it either?’ Lily suggested. ‘Maybe she’s just hoping that if she trains you well enough, you’ll manage somehow.’

  Georgie shook her head. ‘No, from the way she talks about it, I’m sure there’s something particular she wants me to do. Something strange, and – and dangerous.’ She frowned. ‘I just remember little glimpses. Odd words. But I can’t put them all together, even now Lily’s undone me.’

  Lily giggled. It sounded like she’d unlaced Georgie’s petticoats. But the urge to laugh didn’t last long. ‘Will Mama be able to tell I’ve done it?’ she asked suddenly, her heart thudding into a frightened little rush. ‘When you have another lesson, will she see her spell has gone? What will she say?’

  Georgie nibbled the end of her hair, despite Henrietta’s disapproving growl. ‘I have to, it helps me to think!’ At last she shook her head. ‘I don’t think so, Lily. Not if I’m careful to act the way I always do, and not ask any questions.’ She smiled, but not happily. ‘Most of the time Mama is so angry with me, she wouldn’t notice if I turned blue. And if she does notice, Lily, I won’t tell her you’ve done it. She mustn’t know. You must keep your magic a secret, I’m certain of it. Perhaps that was partly what woke me out of the spell? Knowing that I had to protect you?’

  ‘I approve of secrets, generally,’ Henrietta announced, ‘provided I know them, of course. But why is it so important that Lily hides her magic?’

  Georgie sighed. ‘My magic isn’t working the way it’s supposed to. Mama’s furious. Don’t you see? If I’m no good, Lily, they’ll take you instead.’

  Lily nodded slowly. She felt strangely torn inside. It was what she’d always wanted – to be as special and important as Georgie. But suddenly it seemed better to stay ordinary.

  ‘Moving on to the next one…’ Henrietta said thoughtfully. She lay down on the bed, stretching her paws out in front of her like a little Chinese lion. Lily lay down next to her, propping herself on her elbows to look at her sister, curled on the other side of the dog.

  ‘It isn’t as if I’m the first,’ Georgie murmured, stroking Henrietta’s soft black head.

  Lily stared at her. ‘What do you mean?’

  Georgie blinked, and shook her head, almost as if she were shaking something loose. ‘Something Mama said, I think. Since the spell’s gone, odd wisps of things just keep swirling around in my head. She’s angry because she’s done this all before.’

  Lily wriggled upright again, her words falling all over each other in her excitement. ‘Yes! Yes, she said so. Just now, to Marten, don’t you remember? She said something about the others.’ She shivered, and put her hand on Henrietta’s back for comfort. The little dog shuddered and half snapped, as though Lily’s fingers were icy. ‘In the chapel, Georgie. The stones, with the names. Lucy. And – and…’

  ‘Prudence,’ Georgie added in a whisper. ‘But they were babies.’

  ‘There aren’t any dates on the stones, Georgie.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you remember them, if they were old enough to be learning magic, when they…went?’ Henrietta asked.

  Georgie shook her head. ‘The stones have been there as long as I can remember. Perhaps Mama was very young when she had them? Oh, this is stupid – we’re making it up out of nothing. She was young, and they died. They’re just babies who died, Lily, that’s all. It happens all the time!’

  Lily nodded gratefully. Just now, she would have given anything to believe that Georgie was right. All she wanted to do was curl up and lie next to her sister, and pet the dog, and not have to think. But her thoughts were betraying her, whirling around free and refusing to be called back.

  The sweet, soft-furred little dog was the result of a spell. Her magic was growing inside her, and sooner or later, her mother was going to find out.

  However much Georgie had disappointed Mama, her sister’s skin still hummed with magic when Lily touched her. She could feel it now, shimmering between them. There was something inside her, some strange, dangerous magic, underlain with Georgie’s own gentler power.

  Lily couldn’t hide away in the orangery any longer.

  ‘Ahem!’

  Lily jumped, as a chill nose nudged her wrist. ‘What is it?’

 
Henrietta sighed, and even though Lily had known her only a few hours, it was clear that this was the sigh of a put-upon dog.

  ‘You mentioned biscuits?’

  ‘Sorry…’ Lily sat up, and rummaged on the little table beside her bed for matches to light the oil lamp. Then she pulled out the tarnished old silver biscuit barrel.

  Henrietta stood up eagerly, her tail whirring from side to side, as it was too tightly curled to wag like any other dog’s. ‘Oh, with raisins! I adore raisins.’ She took the biscuit Lily gave her delicately in her teeth, and crunched it happily, then licked the bedcover to clear up any crumbs. Then she sat hopefully in front of Lily, staring up at her, huge eyes shining with love and starvation.

  ‘Another one?’ Lily suggested, holding a biscuit above the little black nose, and giggling.

  ‘I haven’t been fed for about sixty years,’ Henrietta pointed out plaintively. ‘I am very hungry.’ She jumped on all four feet at once, and seized the biscuit from Lily’s fingers. ‘Hah! You didn’t know I could do that, did you?’ she asked Lily, smugly, through crumbs.

  By the time Henrietta had had four biscuits, and Lily and Georgie two each, the tin was empty, even Henrietta admitting this at last, after snuffling around inside it quite thoroughly for a while. She sighed heavily, and settled back down on the bedcover, yawning, and licking her jowls, in case she had missed any crumbs. Then she looked up at Lily and Georgie, bright-eyed.

  ‘So what are we going to do?’

  Georgie stared at her. ‘Do…?’ she faltered.

  ‘We have to do something,’ Lily pointed out gently. ‘At the very least, we have to find out what Mama is planning. It’s your life, Georgie! You can’t just let her use you in some strange plot.’

  Henrietta shook her head briskly. ‘No. You should definitely know what the plot is first. Very irresponsible not to.’

  Georgie closed her eyes, wearily. ‘I almost wish I’d walked on down the stairs,’ she murmured. ‘Oh, not really. It was just so much easier to let Mama order me around. You’re terribly bossy, Lily. And the dog is worse…’

  ‘The dog is a very rude thing to say,’ Henrietta said sniffily. ‘I have a name.’

  ‘You see – you sound like a fussy governess!’ Georgie shook her head. ‘But I know you’re right,’ she added, staring miserably at her fingers. ‘I just don’t want to.’

  Henrietta padded across the coverlet to Lily, and snuffled in her ear. ‘Have you ever noticed that your sister is awfully wet?’

  ‘So would you be if you were under a spell the whole time and never allowed to do anything but work,’ Lily said defensively. But she couldn’t help agreeing a little.

  ‘It’s probably why she’s no good at this spell-plot thing,’ Henrietta added, in a loud and indiscreet whisper. ‘She’s just not got the guts for it.’

  ‘That isn’t fair!’ Lily snapped, sounding even crosser because she had a horrible feeling Henrietta was right.

  ‘It’s true, Lily.’ Georgie glanced up, and she was laughing. ‘Maybe you should show Mama your magic. You’d be far better at it. Although I’m not sure her binding spell would work on you, you’d probably throw it back in her face. You’re very like her, actually. Determined.’

  ‘I just want to know what’s happening,’ Lily said stubbornly. ‘And if you can’t ask – well, then we need to find out somehow. Some other way.’

  Georgie put her hair in her mouth again, a whole hank of it, and nibbled it fast. Chewing on her hair she seemed more mouse-like than ever, and Lily eyed her worriedly. Much as she hated for Henrietta to be right, Georgie didn’t look like much of a co-conspirator. She looked like a frightened twelve-year-old, who might fall over if someone spoke too loudly.

  ‘How?’ she murmured, through her hair.

  ‘I suppose when you’re in the library, Mama is usually watching you…’ Lily began thoughtfully. ‘So you wouldn’t be able to look around for – for evidence. We need to get in there another time.’

  Georgie drew her knees up to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them. Her thin little wrists poked out of her lacy sleeves, and she was shivering. ‘Must we?’

  Henrietta snorted – although in a very ladylike manner. ‘Wet!’ she whispered to Lily again.

  Lily tried to put a finger over Henrietta’s mouth, and then gasped with laughter as she met cold wet nose instead. Henrietta leaned against her lovingly. ‘I will come and help you look.’

  Georgie looked up, her blue eyes hardening, so they reminded Lily of the smoky blue-grey flints she found on the beach sometimes. She glared at Henrietta. ‘And so will I. You’ve never met our mother, remember. You don’t know what you’re promising to do.’

  Henrietta sniffed, but she did shift her hindquarters a little nervously, as though Georgie’s words went home.

  ‘We’ll have to watch for when Mama leaves the library,’ Lily mused, and Georgie nodded unwillingly. ‘I suppose we could go hunting then.’

  ‘Good. So tomorrow, you have to be just as you always are,’ Lily told her sister firmly.

  Georgie gulped, and Lily eyed her with frustration. ‘You have to!’

  ‘I will!’ Georgie snapped back. ‘You don’t know what it’s like, sitting there in the library trying to learn spells with Mama watching me all the time. And now I’ll be worrying that she can see her spell’s gone. I shall spend the whole time certain that she’s standing just behind me, with her fingers outstretched…’ She shuddered fitfully, having succeeded in frightening herself and Lily, and even Henrietta, whose eyes were bulging more than usual.

  Lily swallowed. ‘I know. I mean, I know that I don’t know. I want to help, Georgie. You can’t want to be sitting there like that for the rest of your life.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be…’ Georgie began, but her voice trailed away to a whisper. ‘I suppose it could.’

  ‘Especially if your life wasn’t very long,’ Henrietta pointed out helpfully.

  Lily glared at her. ‘Are all dogs tactless, or is it only you?’ she hissed.

  Henrietta shrugged, and stretched out her paws. ‘Dogs are not tactless. We just don’t see the point in polite little lies. Which is all tact is, you know.’

  Lily opened her mouth to argue, and then shut it again. Henrietta seemed to be right.

  ‘I’m going to sneeze,’ Henrietta muttered dolefully in Lily’s ear.

  ‘You mustn’t!’

  ‘Your housekeeper is worse than useless. The dust!’

  ‘We don’t have one any more,’ Lily murmured, peering round the heavy, dusty, velvet curtain at the library door. ‘Only a butler, Mr Francis, and he’s a little shortsighted.’

  ‘Miss Arabel’s mother would have sacked half the staff if they’d let the house get into this state. Grr.’ The pug dog shook her head, pawing at her nose miserably.

  ‘You do know we’re supposed to be hiding?’ Lily pointed out. ‘Shh!’

  Henrietta peeped round the curtain. ‘Oh, no one can hear us, Lily! That’s a big solid door. I really don’t see why we have to lurk here anyway. Can’t your sister just come and tell us when your mother has gone?’

  Lily sighed, and huddled herself back onto the wide windowsill behind the curtain. ‘Yes… Except – I’m not absolutely sure she would.’ She could imagine Georgie in the library, shivering, trying to nerve herself to get up and fetch them. It was safer to watch themselves.

  Henrietta nudged her gently, and then reared up on her hind paws to look out of the smeared window glass. ‘I can see the sea from here. Lily, have you really never been off this island?’

  ‘Never.’

  Henrietta shuddered. ‘I am a London dog. The countryside is all very well, but I like pavement under my paws. I suppose London has changed too,’ she muttered, sounding quite indignant about it. Then she whisked round on the windowsill, her ears suddenly pricked. ‘Someone is coming!’

  ‘Perhaps she’s going upstairs at last.’ Lily squidged herself as far back into the window as she could.


  ‘No, no.’ Henrietta was quivering excitedly. ‘The other way! Someone is coming down the stairs.’

  ‘Oh!’ Lily frowned. ‘I suppose it must be one of the maids, Martha or Violet. But we’ve been here ages, and I didn’t see anyone go up.’

  ‘Someone very small. Or perhaps just light. And odd-smelling. Ugh. No, a horrible smell. Sour and wrong and…not good! Who is this, Lily? No, shh, be quiet, she’s coming through the hall.’

  Light feet were tapping across the stone floor of the hall, and making for the passage they were hiding in. Together, Lily and Henrietta spied around the curtain as a woman in a black dress, swathed in a veil, pattered past them, knocked quietly at the door of the library, and disappeared inside.

  ‘So? Who was she?’ Henrietta leaned out after her as the door slammed.

  ‘It’s Marten. Mama’s lady’s maid. She is horrible.’ Lily shivered. ‘Sort of shadowy… But she doesn’t smell, or at least, I never thought she did. She always looks scrubbed. Her dress is spotless. The Talish are very good at ironing, I think.’

  Henrietta eyed her pityingly. ‘She smells. Believe me. But it isn’t anything to do with not washing. I shouldn’t think she needs to wash, that one.’ There was a curious glint in her black eyes. ‘Why do you not like her, then?’

  Lily frowned. ‘Well… She never speaks to me. Most of the rest of the servants do. They – they pity me, I think. Martha’s always slipping me extra food, and Violet tries to teach me my letters. They know I don’t have any magic,’ – she ignored Henrietta snorting – ‘and they think I’m neglected.’

  ‘You are neglected. Thank goodness. If you were being taught like your sister, you’d never have had the time to find me.’

  ‘The really strange thing about Marten is her eyes,’ Lily added suddenly. ‘She has awful eyes. They’re grey, and they don’t have any middle. The pupils. She doesn’t have them. Or the whites. Her eyes are just grey all over.’

  Henrietta stared at her, intrigued. ‘Hasn’t anyone else noticed that? The other servants?’