The Dolls

by Kiki Sullivan

  My breath catches in my throat as she goes on.

  “So if Caleb doesn’t protect you, he’s dead, which is exactly what happened to his dad,” she says. “Now you can see why he’s so motivated to hang out with you. He’s confusing self-preservation with feelings. Or maybe it’s just that he wants you to believe he likes you, so that you care about keeping him alive too.”

  “Eveny,” Caleb says, “that’s not true!” But I’m already walking away.

  “Just let her go,” I hear Peregrine coo in her syrupy smooth voice. “She’ll be fine. Come here. I’ll make you feel better.”

  I slam the door behind to shut their voices out. The whole way home, I try very hard not to think about the fact that the things I thought mattered were all in my head.

  28

  I lock myself in my room the next day and dodge five calls from Chloe and one from Caleb. Aunt Bea knocks on my door around seven to ask me to come down to dinner, but I tell her I’m not hungry. Finally, around eight she knocks again, and I open the door reluctantly.

  “Did one of the Dolls do something to you?” she asks bluntly.

  “Peregrine told me about Caleb Shaw and the fact that his survival is tied to mine.”

  Her expression shows me she already knew, which makes me feel even more betrayed. “Oh.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I demand.

  “I don’t like to talk about the Shaws.”

  “Because Caleb’s father let Mom get killed,” I guess in a flat voice.

  Aunt Bea looks surprised. “No. I’ve never blamed him for that. Neither did Peregrine’s mother or Chloe’s mother. Whoever got to your mom got through every one of us.” She shakes her head. “That poor man always blamed himself. He felt he’d failed to uphold his family’s end of the pact. He left town soon after, and about a year later his body was found in Savannah.”

  My blood runs cold. “What happened to him?”

  “The police never solved the case. Rumor is that he was stabbed over a gambling debt. But of course his death was tied to the original pact,” she adds. “It was inevitable.”

  It takes me a second to realize what she means. “He died within a year of Mom because he failed to protect her,” I say.

  “I’m afraid so. I think Peregrine’s and Chloe’s moms felt guilty, like they’d driven him away. They gave Caleb and his mother some money to get back on their feet, and they continued paying Charles’s salary until Caleb was old enough to take over.”

  I blink. “Charles’s salary?”

  “Part of the deal the Shaws made with your great-great-great-grandmother was that they’d be rewarded financially for protecting Cheval queens, plus they would always be members of the sosyete and be provided with whatever they needed to live comfortably. Caleb’s mother should be a sosyete member too, but after her husband’s death, she became a recluse. She didn’t want anything to do with zandara.”

  “Poor Caleb. Having to carry on a tradition that destroyed his family . . .” I shake my head. “He should hate me.”

  “I think that’s the last emotion he feels for you.” She pauses and changes the subject. “I’ll make you a plate and bring it up. I don’t want you going to bed hungry.”

  But for the rest of the night, I can’t stop thinking about Caleb’s father. My mom’s death was at the hands of a random murderer, but his dad’s death would forever be tied to my mom—and to an obligation he never asked for.

  I’m attempting to catch up on some homework Sunday afternoon when the doorbell rings. Aunt Bea pokes her head into my room a moment later to tell me that Peregrine and Chloe are here.

  “I have nothing to say to them,” I tell her without looking up.

  She hesitates. “I think Peregrine’s here to apologize. With things as dangerous as they are right now, maybe it can’t hurt to hear her out.”

  “Fine,” I grumble.

  I follow her downstairs and find Peregrine and Chloe waiting in the front hall.

  “I’ll leave you girls alone,” Aunt Bea says. She narrows her eyes at Peregrine before slipping away.

  “What do you want?” I say once Aunt Bea is gone.

  Chloe looks at Peregrine, who’s still staring at the floor. After a pause, she nudges her.

  Peregrine looks up and blinks at me a few times. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?” she says. It seems difficult for her to get the words out; I assume she’s not used to contrition.

  Chloe nudges her again. “Go ahead, tell her the rest.”

  Peregrine glares at Chloe for a moment, but then she looks up again and says, “Fine, I might have been a little jealous. Caleb’s the only guy I’ve ever really liked, and he rejected me. Then you get to town, and he’s all over you. And not only that, but our sosyete’s supposed to bend over backward to do what’s right now that you’re here. It doesn’t seem fair.”

  “You think this is what I want?” I demand. “Besides, it’s not like anything’s ever going to happen with me and Caleb anyhow.” I wave my hand distractedly and try my hardest to pretend I don’t care. “What matters is that we’re in danger.”

  “Exactly my point. That’s why we have no choice but to do the ceremony. Think you can get your panties out of a twist long enough for that?”

  “The Mardi Gras ceremony?” I ask.

  Peregrine’s expression turns reverent. “The Mardi Gras Possession. The single most important ceremony we hold each year. If you do it with us, Eveny, it can protect us entirely and restore Carrefour’s power, which has been chipping away for the last fourteen years. It’ll even bank us enough power to start to fix the Périphérie.”

  I hesitate. “If it’s the only way, I’m in.” I don’t like it, but I know I don’t have a choice.

  “Wonderful. We do it right after the Mardi Gras Ball next Tuesday,” Chloe explains. “After the ball ends, our sosyete caravans to New Orleans.”

  “Mardi Gras is the craziest day of the year in New Orleans, so everyone will be out in the streets partying,” Peregrine says. “We’ll do a mass possession ceremony soon after we arrive, then join the party.”

  “It’s like the ceremony that freaked you out at Peregrine’s,” Chloe cuts in, “but everyone gets possessed. It’s the best way to draw power to us. Eloi Oke and the other spirits that possess us have free rein to party, drink, and be among real people for the first time in a year. It’s the greatest gift we can give them, and in return they give us tremendous power.”

  “But leaving Carrefour means leaving the protection of the town,” I point out.

  “It’s a chance we have to take,” Peregrine says. “If we don’t do this ceremony, we won’t be able to fix anything that’s gone wrong. And that could destroy us.”

  “The ceremony has to take place in New Orleans?” I ask.

  “It’s the only place the spirits are entirely free to revel in public without anyone blinking an eye,” she says. “Our defenses might have been down before, but they’re not anymore.”

  “Eveny,” Chloe says, “I don’t like this either. But I think we’re out of options.”

  Caleb is gone from school Monday and Tuesday, which makes me feel sadder than it should. I know he’s off training with Patrick and Oscar as the Mardi Gras Possession approaches, but I miss his presence. There are times I glance out the classroom windows and see flashes of someone in the woods that I’m sure is him, but I know I’m imagining things.

  He does call twice, but he doesn’t leave messages, and I don’t bother calling back. What is there to say? There’s undeniably something between us, but he simply wants those feelings to go away.

  An eerie calm settles over Pointe Laveau the next several days, and even those who aren’t in on the Secret of Carrefour seem to sense that something’s wrong.

  “The Dolls are being even weirder than usual,” says Drew as we head up to the Hickories on Wednesday.

  I try to appear nonchalant. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic,” Liv says, nudgi
ng him gently. They’re flirting, and it’s cute. More than that, though, I’m glad they’re distracting each other. As long as they’re sneaking adoring looks, they won’t be thinking too hard about the peculiar behavior of the Dolls.

  “What happened between Chloe and Justin?” Max whispers to me on the way back to class that day. “He hasn’t been up here in the Hickories since last week.”

  “I don’t know,” I tell him honestly, but I’m hoping Chloe did what she said and released him from her charm.

  “Do you think they broke up?” he asks.

  “I hope so. It would be the right thing.”

  On Friday, Peregrine’s not in school, but Chloe offers me a ride home in her little white BMW so I don’t have to wait in the rain for Aunt Bea to pick me up.

  “You know,” she says as we pull out of the parking lot, “you still have to go to the ball with Caleb. It’s safest that way. If Main de Lumière knows about the Mardi Gras Possession we do each year, that’s going to be a dangerous night. You need Caleb to protect you, now more than ever.”

  “Great,” I mutter. “So he’s obligated to take me to the ball. How delightful for him.” Thunder rolls outside, and lightning flashes across the sky, illuminating dark, hulking clouds.

  “He wants to take you, Eveny.”

  I snort and look out the window. The rain is coming down in sheets, and the world has turned black.

  “Things are different with you two,” she adds after a minute. “Seeing you with him made me realize that I needed to let Justin go.”

  “Did you do it?”

  “Yes,” she says. “He’s still part of the sosyete as long as he wants to be. And he’ll still be my date to the ball, because he’s coming with us to New Orleans. But after that, we’re done.” She pauses. “You know, it’s true that Caleb had no choice about protecting you unless he wanted his family to lose everything. But he did have a choice about falling in love with you.”

  I look at her in disbelief. “You think Caleb is in love with me?”

  But Chloe isn’t laughing. “You’re different from the rest of us. Maybe it’s because you didn’t grow up here. Maybe it’s because you’re just a different kind of person. But I think Caleb sees you for you.”

  I ponder this in silence for a moment. “It doesn’t matter, though. He’s making a choice, and the choice is to distance himself from me.”

  “You’re not being fair to him,” she says. “It’s not like he’s being a jerk. He’s trying to do the right thing.”

  “Only because his life depends on it,” I say.

  “No!” Chloe exclaims, and I can tell she’s getting frustrated with me. “It’s because he’s a good guy. It’s because he understands that you’re in danger. It’s because he would do anything to protect you—including staying out of your life.”

  “He’s just doing his duty,” I say softly. “That’s all.”

  “Look, never in the history of this town has there been an incident of a protector falling for one of the queens,” Chloe says after a pause. “It’s forbidden. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But it did. That means something.”

  My heart thuds as I turn to look out the window again.

  “Can he sever his obligation to me if he wants to?” I ask.

  “Well, technically, he could stop protecting you at any time,” she says. “But he’d instantly lose everything his family has ever had. He and his mom would be out on the street. And of course if something happened to you . . .”

  “He’d die too,” I fill in.

  “Yes.”

  “But I can release him from the obligation,” I say.

  Chloe looks startled. “That wouldn’t make any sense. You’d be putting yourself in serious danger.”

  “Humor me. Is it possible? If I did it, would it free him from his fate being tied to mine?”

  She hesitates. “I guess so. But it would be crazy to do that now, Eveny, with Main de Lumière after us. Caleb has been training his whole life to protect you. Besides, think about future generations. If you sever the protectorate, you leave your children, your grandchildren, and their children unprotected.”

  My stomach lurches at the thought, but there’s no justification for protecting myself and my family at the expense of Caleb and his. “I need you to tell me how I’d do it,” I say.

  Chloe’s grip tightens on the steering wheel, but after a long pause, she begins to explain. And by the time she drops me off at my front door, I’m beginning to have an idea of how I can change everything—if not for everyone, then at least for the future of the one person in my life who’s willing to sacrifice everything for me.

  29

  That weekend, I ignore calls from everyone, including Liv, who seems to think she’s done something to offend me. I shoot her a text telling her that I’m just worried about the ball, but the truth is, I don’t have the energy to make up another story about why the Dolls are acting so strange.

  I go to bed early Saturday night, hoping that I’ll dream of my mom. The more alone I feel in this town, the more I long for her advice and comfort. But my sleep is annoyingly dreamless. I wake up frustrated, wondering what good my powers are if I can’t call upon my mom—or at least someone helpful—when I need to.

  Aunt Bea and I eat grilled cheese in silence on Sunday, and afterward, I shut myself in my room. I tell her I’m studying for a test, but in reality I’m leafing through my mother’s herb book, hoping there’s something there I’ve missed. Perhaps a “How to Save the Whole Town from Impending Disaster” charm? No such luck.

  It’s nearing twilight when I head out to the garden to think. It’s the place where I most feel my mother’s presence, and tonight I want to do everything I can to channel her wisdom, in hopes that I can find some answers.

  But all I’m left with are the cryptic words of her letter. In order to survive, you’ll have to tap into everything inside of you. You have the chance to become the greatest queen the world has ever known.

  I keep searching my heart for the insights she seemed to think would be there, but all I can find are betrayal and loss. My mother is gone. My father is gone. The truth about Caleb has come to light. Everything is wrapped in secrets and lies.

  I’m still sitting in the garden a few hours later, no closer to an answer, when a rustling from behind the rosebushes startles me. I turn and see Boniface approaching.

  “Oh,” I say, putting my hand over my heart. “It’s you.”

  “Sorry, honey,” he says gently. He gestures to the bench beside me. “Mind if I sit for a minute?”

  I shake my head, and he settles down next to me. I haven’t seen much of him since the incident in the garden where I nearly killed him, and although I feel like I should be freaked out by the realization that he’s been alive for more than a century and a half, I’m not. This town is weird, and after a while, the weirdness becomes the norm.

  “It seems like you have some decisions to make,” he says.

  I look at him in surprise. “How do you know?”

  He chuckles. “Do you think I’m just here to care for the house? I’m here for you too, Eveny. You’re my family, just like your mom was.”

  “I keep wondering what she’d do right now if she were in my shoes.”

  He puts a hand on my back. “You know right from wrong. You realize it’s your job to stand up for the right thing. I don’t think you have to expend so much energy wondering what decisions your mother would make. They’re the choices that are in your heart already.”

  “So what do I do?” I ask. “How do I protect everyone? How do I do what’s right?”

  “Is your sosyete still planning to do the Mardi Gras Possession on Tuesday night?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Then go to New Orleans and work your magic. You must.” He stands, and for a moment, I think the conversation is over and he’s walking away, but then he gestures for me to follow him. “I have something I’d like to give you.”

  He l
eads me into his cottage, which is lit by a dozen squat, dripping candles. “Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to two wooden chairs beside a small table. I settle into one of them while he disappears. He returns a moment later with something clutched in his hand.

  “After your aunt moved you to New York, she asked me to go through your mother’s things,” he begins. He sits down in the chair opposite me and leans forward. “Everything I held on to is stored in the attic for you. But this, I took down a few days ago.” He unfolds his palm, and I peer at what he’s holding.

  “Lip gloss?” I ask.

  He chuckles. “It belonged to your mother.”

  “Oh. Thanks.” I force a polite smile. I’d hoped he was going to give me something that could help me, but I appreciate him trying to make me feel better. “It’ll be nice to think of my mom when I wear it to the ball.”

  “No, you misunderstand,” he says. “I’m not giving you this to remind you of your mother. I’m giving it to you because once upon a time, she imbued it with power.”

  I look at him and then back to the tube of gloss.

  “She spent months working desperately to come up with the right combination of herbs,” he explains. “This sort of thing is difficult, because in zandara herbs are used in the moment, in ceremonies, not to give inanimate objects power of their own. But just before she died, she told me she thought she’d done it; she added ground alder leaf to uncover someone’s true motives, thyme to reveal a liar, and peony to bring the truth to light. She never had a chance to charm it, though.”

  He hands the tube to me. “It’s meant to show you betrayal around you.” I roll it over in my palm while he continues. “It will be clear on your lips, and it will be clear on people who are being honest with you. But if you charm it correctly, it will show up blood red on the face of the person who’s lying to you about the night Glory Jones died. And only you will be able to see the mark of the traitor.”