We wind our way through the trees, and it becomes clear that it is an orange grove. I remember my mother’s scent. Oranges and jasmine. I am aware of the adder stone, pulsing and hot, beneath my robe.
The grove seems neverending. I would be frightened of becoming lost were it not for Dimitri, for the trees grow in a strange order that only nature seems to understand. Dimitri knows exactly where he is going, though, and I follow him without question.
We break through the trees and the sky unfolds before us. The sea, glistening below, churns white as waves crash on the jagged cliff that descends steeply from the grove to the water.
“I used to come here as a boy,” Dimitri says from my side. “It was my secret spot, though I imagine my mother knew right where it was. Not much is a secret on Altus.”
I smile as I try to imagine Dimitri a dark-haired boy with an impish grin. “What was it like, growing up here?”
He wanders back to a nearby tree, reaching up and pulling a small orange from its branches.
“It was… idyllic. Though I didn’t know it at the time.”
“What of your parents? Do they live on the island?”
“My father does.” A shadow passes over his face, and when he continues I understand why. “My mother is dead.”
“Oh… I’m… I’m sorry, Dimitri.” I tip my head, smiling sadly at him. “I suppose that is yet another thing we have in common.”
He nods slowly, walking back toward me and gesturing to the grass near the edge of the cliff.
“Come. Sit.”
I drop to the ground, and Dimitri follows suit. He continues without mention of his parents, and I understand that the subject is closed.
“Altus is like a very small town, only with a considerably more open mind.” He rolls the orange in his palms as he talks. “In many ways it was not very different from your own upbringing, I suppose. There were marriages, births, deaths.”
“And everyone, men and women, living in close proximity.” I am still getting my head around the fact and cannot resist bringing it up.
“Ah, you’ve been talking to Una. Good. Does it shock you?”
I shrug. “A little. It is… different than what I’m used to, I suppose.”
He nods. “It will take some time to become accustomed to our ways, Lia. I know that. But you should try not to think of them as new or foreign. Really, they are older than time itself.”
I gaze out over the water, pondering his words. I don’t know if I am ready to contemplate them now. They ring of a reality I could not have envisioned just a few weeks ago, despite having been oddly unchaperoned in London.
“Tell me about Sonia,” I ask, in part to change the subject, and in part because I am finally feeling strong enough to hear the truth about my friend.
Dimitri begins peeling the orange, trying to keep the peel in one piece. “Sonia is still… not herself. The Elders have her cloistered.”
“Cloistered?” I am confused, feeling one moment as if I have landed in a hedonistic commune and another as if I am in a nunnery.
He nods. “In seclusion. Very few of the Sisters are trusted and powerful enough — your aunt would have been one of them were she not so ill — to perform such rites. Only they can see Sonia while she is recovering.”
I cannot help but be alarmed. “Rites? They aren’t hurting her, are they?”
He reaches out to touch my hand. “Of course not. It is the Souls who have hurt her, Lia. The Sisters have to vanquish the Souls’ hold on Sonia so that she might come back to herself.” He pulls his hand away and finishes peeling the orange. “Releasing Sonia from the Souls’ authority may take some time, and only the Elders can see it done.”
“When can I see her?”
“Tomorrow, perhaps.” And in his tone, the knowledge of another closed subject.
I pull a few tufts of grass. “And Edmund? Where is he?”
He breaks the orange in half, and I have the sudden urge to smell his hands. “He is here on the island. The first day, he sat outside your room until he fell asleep on the floor. We had to move him, still asleep, to a room of his own.”
I cannot help smiling at the mention of Edmund, and suddenly I cannot wait to see him again.
“You care for Edmund very much, don’t you?” Dimitri asks.
I nod. “Next to Aunt Virginia, he is the closest thing I have left to family. He has seen me through…” I take a deep breath, remembering. “Well, through many horrible things. His strength makes me believe that I don’t have to be strong all of the time. That it’s okay to lean on someone else just for a while.”
I am embarrassed to have said aloud what I have so often thought, but Dimitri smiles softly, and I know just what he is thinking.
His gaze is hot on my face. I feel so many things in it. So many things that one should not be able to feel through a simple look — power, confidence, honor, loyalty, and, yes, perhaps even love.
He pulls his eyes from my face and tears off a section of the orange. When he lifts his arm, I think he will hand it to me, but instead, he holds it toward my lips. Of course, in New York or London, it would be highly improper to allow a man to feed me.
But I am not in New York or London.
Leaning forward, I take the orange from his hand with my mouth, my lips brushing his fingertips as I draw the fruit between my teeth. When I bite into it, I realize how small it is. The section is only slightly more than a bite, and sweeter than the oranges I have had occasion to eat elsewhere. Dimitri’s eyes linger on my mouth while I chew.
I look at the rest of the orange, still sitting in his open palm. “Aren’t you going to taste it?”
He licks his lips, and when he speaks, his voice is hoarse. “Yes.”
He moves toward me and his mouth is on mine before I have time to think. His kiss brings forth the remnant of another Lia. One who has never had to wear a corset and stockings. One who is not ashamed when her body thrills at the feel of his urgent lips on hers and the touch of his fingers through the delicate fabric of her robe. This Lia lives by the rules of the island rather than the laws of London society.
His mouth still on mine, he pushes me back onto the soft grass and we lose ourselves in the wind and the sea and the feel of each other. When he finally pulls away, his breath comes fast and heavy.
I lace my fingers together behind his neck and try to pull him to me once again. He groans, but only graces my cheeks and eyelids with tender kisses.
“We come from different places, Lia, and in many ways, different times as well. But now, here, I want you to know that I honor the laws of your place and time.”
I know what he means and try not to blush. “What if I don’t want you to?” The words are out of my mouth before I have the chance to think them through.
He props himself on one elbow, fingering a length of my robe. “You are lovely in lilac,” he murmurs.
“Are you changing the subject?”
He smiles. “Perhaps.” He leans down and kisses the tip of my nose. “In order to have honor of my own, I must respect the laws of your world as long as you’re a part of it. Should you decide to become a part of mine… well, then, we may honor those laws together.”
I sit up, folding my legs underneath my robe. “You want me to stay on Altus with you?”
He plucks a small wild daisy from the grass and tucks it behind my ear. “Not now, of course. We must find the missing pages and banish the Souls. But afterward… Nothing would make me happier than to build a life with you on Altus. And don’t you feel it? A connection to this place?”
I cannot lie, and so I nod. I am overcome, at once flattered beyond measure and frightened out of my mind at what the future, once as sure and certain as the rising sun, might now hold.
“What if I don’t want to leave my world?” I have to ask.
He leans over and kisses me softly, lingering over my lips before pulling away just an inch so that I can almost feel his lips move when he speaks. “Then I will join y
ou in yours.”
He kisses me again, but when I close my eyes, it is not Dimitri’s proclamations of love that ring through the halls of my mind, but those of another man, spoken long ago.
I jump as Luisa storms into the room, slamming the door behind her.
“This is ridiculous, Lia! Utterly ridiculous!” She holds her arms out, the deep purple sleeves of her new robe fluttering around her slender arms. It is a few shades deeper than our day robe and identical to the one Una left for me. “Una tells me we must wear robes to dinner!”
I laugh at Luisa’s tone, as if robes are rats. “Yes, robes are what the Sisters wear on Altus.” I try not to sound as if I am speaking to a five-year-old.
“Don’t be patronizing,” she says. “You know what I mean: how are we to go to our first big dinner on Altus in nothing but… but…” She gestures at her silk-clad body before continuing. “This?”
I shake my head. “What did you do while I was asleep all those nights? What did you wear then?”
“I ate in my room, mostly, so it didn’t matter what I wore. I think they were waiting for you to have some sort of celebration.”
The breath hitches in my lungs. I am not ready to meet the whole of the island. “What sort of celebration?”
She wanders to the bed, flinging herself backward onto it and speaking to the ceiling. “I don’t know. But I don’t believe it will be too formal. I overheard one of the younger girls saying something about how it would be ‘inappropriate’ to have too merry a feast.”
I think of Aunt Abigail, fighting for her life at this very moment, and find that I agree with the unnamed Sister.
Luisa sits up. “Even still, Lia… I should like to have something nice to wear, wouldn’t you? Don’t you miss your lovely gowns?”
I shrug, fingering the lush folds of violet that spill around my legs. “I’m becoming used to the robes, and they are comfortable, aren’t they?”
I move to the looking glass to pin my hair and almost do not recognize the person staring back at me. This is the first time I have bothered to view my reflection since we left London. I suppose in many ways I am a different person, and I wonder if perhaps the changes have been for the better. I turn from the glass, deciding on a whim to leave my hair unbound and curling around my shoulders.
“I would sacrifice comfort for fashion on any occasion, and tonight especially,” Luisa says from across the room, and her baleful expression causes me a moment’s pity.
I make my way to the bed and sit next to her. “And why should tonight be special?”
She shrugs, but the knowing smile working its way to her mouth gives her away. “No reason.”
“Mhm. So it wouldn’t have anything to do with… oh, I don’t know… a certain Brother who happens to reside here on the Island?”
She laughs. “Oh, all right! I would like to look my best for Rhys! Is that so wrong?”
“Of course not.” I stand. “But look at it this way; there is every possibility that, were you to appear at dinner in a gown, Rhys would simply think you an over-trussed goose.”
I know that I am making headway when Luisa chews her lower lip, a thoughtful expression replacing her high color of a moment ago. “Really, Luisa. I think the silk robe’s rather exotic. Rather… sensual.”
She thinks a moment longer before standing in a huff. “Oh, fine! I shall wear the infernal robe. Besides, it’s not as if I have a choice unless I should like to attend naked!”
“That is true.” I link my arm with hers as we head for the door. “But who knows? Perhaps Rhys would like that even better!”
Luisa turns to me, her mouth open in shock. “Lia! You’ve become absolutely scandalous!”
I suppose I have, and as we make our way to the dining hall I remember Dimitri’s offer at the grove and wonder if the choice between one life and the other is truly mine to make. Perhaps I will not be capable of returning to the person I once was and the life I once lived.
I remember Henry’s words from long ago and think them as appropriate as ever.
Only time will tell.
23
As we enter the dining hall, I am startled at the quiet that descends among the crowd. I try to ignore it as I make my way across the room with Luisa.
The hall is cavernous, filled with robed women and dashing men dressed head to toe in black. The massive chandelier, lit with a thousand candles, casts a warm glow over the center of the room. I wonder how someone was able to reach high enough to set the candles alight, for the chandelier hangs by a heavy chain that stretches so far upward I cannot even see its end.
“What do we do?” Luisa whispers.
“I don’t know. I suppose we should look for Dimitri or Una.”
“Or Rhys,” she says.
I roll my eyes. “Yes. Or Rhys.”
I step farther into the room, trying to keep my head high and a smile — generous enough to seem friendly but not so generous as to make me seem mad — plastered on my face.
It is times like these when I miss Sonia terribly. In truth, it was often for her that I would pull back my shoulders and find a brave smile, even when I was cowering inside. I have always been stronger for her support and companionship, and I feel the loss of it as powerfully as if I had only lost her to the Souls today.
“Thank goodness,” Luisa breathes. “There is Dimitri.”
I follow her gaze and see him making his way toward us. I do not think it is my imagination that his smile is private and meant only for me. He stops in front of us, taking both of my hands.
“There you are.” He says it simply, as if he has been searching for me forever only to find me in a most unexpected place.
He has traded his daytime trousers for tighter-fitting black ones and wears a matching black tunic in place of his white one. The black makes him seem dangerous, and in the glow of the candles hanging from the chandelier and those placed at the periphery of the room, he is more handsome and thrilling than ever.
When he leans in, I think he means to kiss my cheeks, but instead his lips find my mouth. The kiss is lingering but not unseemly. I sneak a glance around the room, noticing that those in attendance look either chagrined or surprised, and I know Dimitri has made a declaration. He has told them that he is with me, whatever they may say. I do not think it possible, but my heart opens to him even further.
“Hello,” I say. My voice is not as bold as I would like it to be, but I am caught off guard both by the mood of the others in the hall and by Dimitri’s gesture.
He grins, seeming more like the private Dimitri I have come to know. “Well, hello.”
And now my smile is real, for somehow when I am with him, it does not seem to matter what the rest of the world thinks or says.
He links one arm with mine and one with Luisa’s and escorts us toward a table at the center of the room. It is a cue of sorts, and the crowd begins talking again, first in low murmurs and soon enough in voices so loud it is as if the awkwardness of the past moments was only a dream.
“I’m sorry you had to make your way to the dining hall alone.” He has to speak loudly to be heard over the din. “I thought Una was bringing you, or I would have come for you myself.”
“She was going to,” I say. “But she wanted to check on Aunt Abigail. It seems she is still not awake.”
He nods gravely, and I see from the concern on his face that I am not the only one who is worried about Aunt Abigail.
We stop at a long table directly underneath the chandelier. It is already mostly occupied, though there are three seats remaining, reserved, it seems, for us. I worry for a moment that Luisa will not be permitted to sit with her new beau, but when her face breaks into a beatific smile I follow her stare and realize Rhys is already seated at our table. I shall have to ask Dimitri later if it is by chance or design.
An older woman with raven hair rises first. She bows a little in greeting, her steely eyes meeting mine, and I realize she is the Sister who led us up the path just before
I fell unconscious.
“Welcome to Altus, Amalia, daughter of Adelaide.” Her voice is lower than I remember.
It is strange to hear my mother’s given name spoken aloud. I don’t think I have heard anyone speak it since before her death. It takes me a moment to gather my wits.
I return her bow. “Thank you.”
Dimitri turns to me and bows formally, fulfilling his part in some kind of ritual I do not understand. “Amalia, Lady Ursula and the Sisterhood welcome you.”
I return his bow, feeling suddenly shy.
Dimitri repeats the small ceremony with Luisa, and introductions are made around the table. Everything happens so quickly that I forget most of the names as soon as they are spoken, but I know I will not soon forget Rhys’s piercing eyes and the way they seem to see only Luisa. He is as dark as Dimitri, but quieter and less able or willing to make conversation. I should like to ask Luisa what they speak about when they are together, but I believe speaking may not be among their most favored activities. She is, even now, sitting so close to him that I see their thighs touch under the table.
As soon as we sit, the others in the hall take their places at tables across the massive dining hall. Food is brought in short order, and I can hardly keep pace with the dizzying array of fruits, vegetables, crusty bread, and sweet wine, though I do notice that there is no meat.
As we are served I catch my dinner companions casting curious glances my way. I cannot blame them, I suppose. Using Dimitri’s earlier argument, I imagine they have many questions that politeness begs they not ask.
It is immediately clear that Ursula holds stature, but I do not have a private moment during dinner to ask Dimitri for the details of her title. She takes full advantage of her position, though, whatever it may be. The server has not yet stepped away from our table when the first question is fired.
“Dimitri tells me you endured quite a journey to find us, Amalia.” She sips from her goblet of wine.
I finish chewing the fig in my mouth. “Yes. It was… grueling.”
She nods. “It seems you are not one to shy away from tasks both difficult and dangerous.”
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