Ruby, as usual, sang with great gusto but little skill. Cami’s throaty alto—surprisingly deep and sweet—could barely be heard, but she had always enjoyed singing. Singing d-d-doesn’t s-s-stut . . . There she used to stop and smile a little, pained and shy.
It was enough to break your heart. She didn’t really stutter anymore. At least, not badly.
Ellie just mouthed the words. She knew them all by heart, why bother?
Morning Chapel was halfway over. If she propped herself against Cami just right when they all sat down again, she could steal ten minutes of sleep while Mother Heloise read from the Book. In some schools they tested you on the scripture and homily, but at Juno you just had to sit still. Maybe Mother Heloise thought it would drip inside your head anyway, water over stone.
Of course, considering what some of the ghoulgirls and the socials got up to in their spare time, the evidence would tend against that particular theory. But that only raised the question: Would it be worse if the Mother wasn’t always going on about Chastity, Charity, Good Works, and Loving Mithrus with All Your Heart and Soul Like a Good Girl Should?
It was like one of those Unspeakable Riddles black charmers were always using to trip up heroes in feytales.
Thinking about black charmers dragged her back to thinking about Laurissa, and that wasn’t going to help her get any rest.
The final chord rattled around the rafters, and everyone waited for Mother Heloise’s placid “Be seated, children,” before dropping down on the aged, varnished wooden pews. Each girl swept her skirt under in her own way; the uniforms only made you look harder for the variances. Even in the middle of the most stultifying conformity there were tiny little individual outcroppings, crocuses sticking up their tiny green heads.
Ruby popped the wad of choco-beechgum back into her mouth and proceeded to chew furiously, her right foot tapping to her own private beat. Cami folded her hands in her lap, straight-backed, and stared wide-eyed at a point over Mother Heloise’s head. Ellie settled herself against Cami’s side and tried not to think.
It was no use. She couldn’t get away from it.
The first pair of shoes—their heels higher and arched, the copper turned to burning russet gold, their toes wickedly pointed and scrolled with a chimecharm to make the wearer’s footsteps tinkle like crystal raindrops—had sold immediately. Of course, Ellie never saw the money. But the Strep was calm for days afterward. It must have been a considerable amount, and each pair afterward—plus the backlog of commissions from the Strep’s charm not working right—had similarly been snapped up, calming Laurissa’s temper even more.
She’d stopped having Ellie go through the ledgers, too. Now the Strep did the bookkeeping, and it was a funny thing—the ledgers were locked behind a glass door in Dad’s office, where Laurissa had never ventured before. There were the familiar blue ones Ellie had been working in . . . and another set in rich red leather.
Interesting, right? Or it would have been, if she’d had time to think about it.
Rita was demoted to the pink bedroom, and Ellie’s blue nest was all her own again. The door locked, sure, but the lock was an ancient crusty thing, and the right charm could tickle it open in a heartbeat.
It wasn’t safe.
So Ellie snuck out each night and slept in her little garret. Which was great . . . except when she’d climbed down this morning, she’d heard a noise. A soft sliding step.
Rita? Probably. The girl wouldn’t even talk to her. Antonia was gone for good—the Strep had summarily fired her, claiming the vacation time had really been the cook just not showing up to work. Miz Toni disputed that, but not too loudly—she just took the pittance of severance pay and left with her ample mouth set in a thin worried line.
Because after all, if a Sigiled charmer took it into her head to blacklist a former employee, where in the city would said employee ever find a decent job again? Maybe Miz Toni just didn’t want to move to another province. Ellie couldn’t blame her.
Afterward, the Strep had smiled at Ellie, that peculiar little smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She was not a good influence, Ellen. Mustn’t get too friendly with the help, I’ve told you that before.
So it was Ellie’s fault, after all. A heavy sigh, flavored with pine-resin incense, escaped before she could stop herself, and Cami glanced over, a flash of blue eyes in the dimness.
Above, the stone was frozen into ribbed arches, carved with grapes and bull heads with wide curving horns in honor of the Sacrificed One, thorny tau crosses and the sad eyes of the Magdalen worked over and over with long tapering lashes. The Magdalen had seen a lot, that was for damn sure, and sometimes Ellie thought that maybe things would be better if the bitch had closed her eyes for once.
Like you, maybe? The Strep’s been awful nice lately, wouldn’t you say?
She told that voice to go away. She needed all the sleep she could get, and this was a golden opportunity.
She wouldn’t even think about the scrap of paper folded into her shapeless black felt hat, with Avery’s writing on it.
A phone number, and his blocky letters. Call me. Please.
Not a chance. Where would she find the time, now? Homework and charming after school, hours and hours draining away on Laurissa’s projects.
Plus, the further away Avery was from Laurissa, the better. She was bound to be wondering why the charm she’d attached to his gift didn’t bring him back to the house. How many of her other boyfriends had she snared that way? Was it any good to wonder? Avery wouldn’t have been the first one just over legal age, and he probably wouldn’t be the last one either. She went through them pretty quick, and by the end of it they were usually hollow-eyed and . . .
Nausea flooded her, and she shut the thought away. It was useless. She should just try to get some rest.
Juno’s huge Book was open on a stand like a charmer’s plinth, and Ellie had never noticed that before. Was there charming in churches? Did anyone care? Mother Heloise touched the pages reverently, intoning something about a wedding and a bridegroom, stupid virgins and smart ones.
Mithrus was looking in the wrong place if he expected to find a ton of virgins here. There was Binksy Malone in the pew right in front of her, a certified socialite slut if Ellie’d ever seen one, and right up front was the chief ghoulgirl, Manda Hogan, her dyed-black braids swallowing the glow from massed ranks of candles. She was notorious for never turning down a dare, even from the guys at Berch Prep.
And Ruby, well, Rube was Wild, in red capitals and underlined. No two ways about it.
Well, if Mom and Dad were still alive, you’d be wild too, Ell. Wouldn’t you? You can only run like that if you’re sure there’s someone who can catch you if you trip.
Maybe, maybe not, and that was a bad mental road to go down too. Because the grief was a stone in her chest, and the only time that stone rolled away was when she was charming for Laurissa.
The charms came with frightening ease, and the blank space that flowered inside her head while she was working them was frankly terrifying. Each pair of shoes—she was doing two or three a day, and they sold as quickly as she could make them, which made Laurissa happy—had odd markings, way more restrained than Laurissa’s florid curlicues.
Almost . . . well, almost as if they’d been performed by a Sigiled charmer.
Ellie’s Potential wasn’t settled yet. If it had, she’d be switched into a different Basic Charm class, and that would take her away from Rube and Cami. High Charm Calc would have started making sense in different ways, and that wasn’t happening.
It is, though. Those equations all but solve themselves. You’re cheating to get the wrong answers, for once.
She told that little thought to take a hike, too. If she got wrong answers, fine. Getting put in Advanced Charm would mean she would have to charm more to keep up with in-class labs, and the idea just filled her with unsteady dread.
“This story,” Mother Heloise half-chanted, “tells us some very important things, my
children.”
Nothing that can help me, thanks. Another sigh heaved itself out of her. Soon the homily would be over, and they would all stand for the closing hymn, and then it was out the door and back into class.
She tried to let her mind drift. Cami’s stillness didn’t alter. How she could sit and pay attention through all this was just incredible. She even thought about the things Mother Heloise said, and sometimes could be persuaded to comment on them. Living with Family, maybe that sort of thing was dinner-table talk. You could probably think about a lot of religion if you lived a long time, and even the ones that didn’t transition into Unbreathing had incredible life spans. Probably fueled by the red stuff they drank. Cami called it borrowing.
As euphemisms went, that one was a doozy.
Ellie concentrated on her own breathing, her eyes half closed. Cami smelled of sunshine and a breath of roses from her shampoo, and a faint spice that was all Family. The Vultusino house on Haven Hill was a fortress, and it was a damn good thing too. Cami was too fragile for the world out here.
Ruby was all but wriggling with impatience, a hint of chocolate from her gum striking through the incense and candle scents for a moment. The problem was, Rube’s running speed was about fifteen miles faster than the rest of the world’s. The world was too big to speed up, and Rube too impatient to slow down.
And here I am in the middle.
Maybe she just provided some dead weight to make the whole trio stable. Who knew?
You’re still avoiding thinking about it. She couldn’t even get out to Southking at all, she was just too tired and muzzy-headed to charm right, not to mention keep one step ahead of Cryboy and his gang. Or any of the other bottom-feeders who preyed on the buskers and street charmers.
Item one: Rita was in the pink bedroom, and Ellie was back in her own blue nest. Two: the shoes Ellie charmed were selling like oatcakes. Three: the Strep hadn’t hit Ellie in a good two–three weeks, and the belt had been moved back into the master bedroom. Laurissa was even downright pleasant sometimes, the false dulcet honey she put on when she wanted to impress someone or get her way. Four: the Strep had even bought her new clothes, including a brand-new school blazer.
Which Ellie didn’t wear. She remembered the last one, the one Cami had bought her, shredded by Laurissa’s screaming rage. Why get attached to anything nice? Sooner or later the weather would turn again, and Laurissa would start screaming.
You filthy, lazy little cunt! No wonder your parents left you to me! I’ll make you behave!
“Doing good deeds,” Mother Heloise sleepily half-sang, “makes its own reward visible.”
Not in New Haven. It was almost funny enough to make her face want to crack up into a smile, but that took too much energy.
It was useless. The homily was almost over, and she hadn’t slept a wink.
Great.
For once, Ruby didn’t turn the radio on as soon as she twisted the key. She just waited until Ellie had her seatbelt buckled and gave her a funny little sideways look. “You’re awful quiet lately, Ell.”
Exhaustion will do that to you. She fished out her ancient pair of shades and jammed them on, blinking behind their comfortable dark screens. “Got a lot on my mind, Rube. Turn on the radio.”
Ruby didn’t, and Cami was a stillness in the tiny shelf of a backseat.
A suspicious stillness.
A sigh fetched its way up out of Ellie’s middle. “Is this an intervention or something? I’m not on charmweed or milque. Turn on the radio and drive, I’ve got to get home.” If I’m late for charming . . . It didn’t bear thinking about.
Ruby dropped the Semprena into gear, looked over her shoulder, and backed out sedately. “Have you looked at yourself lately?”
I try not to. “Am I fashion impaired? So sorry.”
“Ell—”
Shockingly, Cami cut Ruby off. “We’re worried about you.”
Join the club. “I’m fine. I—”
“You’re not fine,” Cami continued, softly but with great force, leaning over the back of the front seat. She must have practiced what she wanted to say, but she still spoke slowly, enunciating with care. “You’ve lost weight, and you look like a g-ghoulgirl with those circles under your eyes. Your hands are shaking, except for in Charm c-class or Calc. What is she doing to you?”
She’s been my best friend lately. As long as I keep charming shit that sells like oatcakes, I’m golden. “Nothing,” Ellie mumbled, shoving her shades up with a fingertip to hide her ghoulgirl eyes.
Trust Cami to notice things. Had she put Ruby up to this? Honestly, Ell’s just fine, Rube’d probably said. Who wouldn’t look peaky with the Strep beating on her all the time? Let’s go shopping!
It wasn’t fair, but then, nothing was. How many of the other girls at Juno knew that yet? Probably Cami, because of last winter. Still, everything had worked out fine for the Vultusino princess, hadn’t it? Look at her now—no scars, not a lot of stutter, and Nico Vultusino still crazy about her. The darkness and terror had only been a passing thing. Everyone beautiful just floated through things, and Ellie was left holding the bag.
Holding it while it squirmed and fought, keeping it closed tight to keep everyone happy. Or trying to, at least.
“Oh, come on.” Ruby twisted the wheel and they nosed into the line of cars heading for the exit. “If you get any thinner we’ll be able to see through you on a sunny day. Hag is not a good look on you, kiddo.”
“Seems to work for Laurissa,” Ellie cracked, and Ruby loosened up enough to snort a half-laugh.
Cami didn’t. Her worry was like static, a continual buzzing against the back of Ellie’s tender skull. “What is she d-doing t-to you, Ellie?”
The hint of stutter, returning like yesterday’s curse in the old feytales, rasped against Ellie’s nerves. Fair didn’t mean things were erased, or that the clock would be turned back and the people you needed would be alive again.
No wonder your parents left you for me to raise!
Even fair wasn’t fair. If either of them got in the Strep’s way, or drew her attention with a misjudged gesture—like, God forbid, saying something to Mother Heloise, or who knew—Laurissa would roll right over them.
Now that the Strep was playing with black charm—because the watch had been, there was no denying it—she was incredibly dangerous.
Too dangerous for her friends. There was another unwelcome thought: Had Laurissa become too dangerous for Dad, too?
Had the derailing out in the Waste saved her father from something worse? How long had Laurissa been playing with black charm? Nobody would believe Ellie if she told, and if she did go to a magistrate and make an accusation . . .
For once her imagination failed her completely. “Nothing I can’t handle. Can we please get off the subject? Mithrus Christ.”
As soon as she said it, the quiet inside the car changed as if a cloud had drifted over the strengthening spring sunshine. A breeze from nowhere riffled against every surface. Ruby’s eyes widened, and she jammed on the brakes; Cami’s shocked exhalation arrived a beat later.
“Sorry,” Ellie mumbled. Her head rang, and her fingers tingled. It was just a Potential-pop, like a weather front moving through, and she knew she shouldn’t have let it slip like that.
If anyone suspected how easy charming had become, how the equations were making sense, the whole thing might fall down around her ears. The thought of trying to pick up the wreckage again made her even more tired.
“I don’t like this.” Ruby eased the car forward again. “You used to tell us things, Ell. Now you’re just . . .”
“Quiet.” Cami’s hand was on her shoulder. “Please. Talk t-to us.”
What can I say? “I don’t have anything to talk about.”
The rest of the ride passed in excruciating silence. Cami’s hand didn’t move, and she squeezed a couple times, gently but with the iron river of a Vultusino’s strength running in her bones. She wasn’t born into the Family and she di
dn’t talk about what had happened, but Nico had probably done something to make sure she wouldn’t leave him behind again.
Avery Fletcher hadn’t said anything to anyone about Ellie selling charm on Southking, because she hadn’t been hauled out of class to account for it.
There. She’d done it. She’d thought about him again.
Ellie sagged into the seat and closed her eyes. They let her pretend she was asleep until they reached Perrault Street, and she was through the high iron gates with the Strep’s Sigil worked into them before Cami could struggle out of the Semprena’s backseat. The door slammed, Ruby gunned it, and she’d switched the radio on, because the thudding of the bass suddenly thumped out from the little car as it arrowed down Perrault to turn on Woodvine and head for the Vultusino castle.
Ellie stood in the sunshine, little tremors like a bird’s heartbeat running through her bones, and felt cold all the way through.
SEVENTEEN
SPRING BREAK WAS TRADITIONALLY AROUND FISH DAY, and the Friday before it started was full of fertility-festival jokes. Women young and old were buying swellfree tea or anti-conceive charms; Ellie could have made a pretty penny down on Southking if she hadn’t been trapped in the stone workroom every moment she wasn’t at school or allowed to sleep.
The shoes were still selling. Beribboned red pumps with lightfoot charms, cushioned platform wedges with chips of glitter imbedded in the heels and weight-balance charms to keep the wearer upright, boots and more boots, brown and black and red and sky blue, some with heels, some without, all with tinkling music-step charms, a whole series of black patent-leather shoes with supple brass scales holding minor lift and attraction charms . . . It was endless. Homework blurred together inside her head, her tongue jumbled, and if Cami hadn’t covered for her in French the results would have been dire indeed.
As it was, there was hour upon hour of charming after said homework, because Laurissa would drift past the door of the blue bedroom every fifteen minutes or so. How much longer, little Ellen? There’s work to be done . . .
Wayfarer: A Tale of Beauty and Madness (Tales of Beauty and Madness) Page 11
