I remember Edmund’s words just before we crossed the river: If they are what I think they are, we should pray for the deepest body of water we can find.
I meet his eyes as realization dawns. “Water. They are afraid of water.”
He nods. “That’s right. Well, I believe it is, though I’m not sure afraid is the right word. I’m not sure the Hounds are truly afraid of anything, but it is said that deep, swiftly moving water gives them pause. It is the death they most fear, and I have heard it said that when confronted with a dangerous body of water, they are more likely to turn heel than to give chase.”
Death by drowning, I think before remembering something else.
“But can they not shift into another form, say… a fish or a bird or something else that can better navigate the water? At least until they are out of harm?” It was Madame Berrier in New York who informed me of the Souls’ ability to change shape. I have not been able to look at a crowd in the same way since.
Edmund shakes his head. “The Hounds, unlike those Souls who shift from shape to shape, live and die in their form. They are honored to sacrifice themselves to such a role, for there is only one appointment more coveted than that of the Hounds.”
“Which appointment is that?”
Edmund reaches into his pocket for an old apple to feed the great gray horse. “Assignment to the Guard, Samael’s personal contingent of Souls in the physical world. The Hounds secure only this in-between place on the way to Altus while the members of the Guard walk freely among our people and can shift at will in order to do Samael’s bidding in our world. Though you should fear any Soul in human form, those of the Guard should be feared above all others. They are carefully chosen for their viciousness.”
“But how will I know them? I already distrust any stranger, any animal, even, for fear it is one of the Souls in disguise. How am I to watch even more carefully for members of the Guard?” I can hardly fathom this new fear, this new threat.
“They have a mark. One that is present when they are in any human form.” He studies the ground, avoiding my eyes.
“What kind of mark?”
He waves in the direction of my wrist though it is covered by the sleeve of my jacket. “A snake, like yours. Around their neck.”
We stand in the darkness, each lost in our own thoughts. I have stopped petting the horse, and he nuzzles my hand to remind me of his presence. I stroke his face, trying not to picture something as horrifying as a particularly cruel legion of Souls with the hated mark branding them about their necks.
“How much time do you think we have?” I finally ask, turning my attention back to the Hounds.
“We rode hard today. Hard and fast. I tried to keep us on course for Altus while also winding us through the woods in a way that might throw them, even for awhile. And then there was the river… True enough it was not very deep, but even a river such as that could be intimidating for the Hounds. We can hope, at least, that they stopped to think before crossing it.”
I try not to let my frustration and fear get the better of me. “How long?”
His shoulders sag. “A couple of days at most. And an extra one if we ride just as hard tomorrow and are very, very fortunate.”
10
Before bed, I break the news of the Hounds to Sonia and Luisa. It is a testament to our strange situation that they do not seem surprised to hear about the threat to our safety, and we are all moody and quiet as we prepare for sleep. Edmund has insisted on guarding the camp, shotgun in hand, while Sonia, Luisa, and I sleep. I feel guilty as I lay in the relative comfort of our tent, but I know I cannot offer to help Edmund keep watch.
This night my greatest concern lies not with the Hellhounds but with my sister.
I have given much thought to meeting her on the Plane in the Otherworlds. In truth, the thought has lurked in the corners of my mind ever since Edmund told me about her and James. Meeting her would be dangerous, but so is the game she plays with James. And I’ve no doubt that it is a game.
All of Alice’s actions revolve around her desire to bring Samael into our world so that she can assume the position of power she believes is rightfully hers. It is impossible not to be hurt by the news that she and James have grown close in my absence, but I cannot find an ounce of anger in the knowledge. Only fear for James and, if I am honest with myself, more than a twinge of jealousy.
And so I must meet Alice. There is no other way, really, to take the measure of her intentions. I might hear of it from Aunt Virginia or Edmund, but I am her twin. The Gate to her Guardian, however twisted our roles have become.
Traveling the Plane has always felt private, and I wait until I know Sonia and Luisa are asleep, their breath slowing into the steady rhythm that only accompanies deep slumber.
It does not take me as long as it once did, nor as much effort, to fall into the eerie half-sleep required for my soul to rise out of my body and enter the Plane. It is hard to remember a time when leaving my body felt frightening. Now, traveling the winding road through the Otherworlds, I feel only free.
I fly over the fields surrounding Birchwood, my feet nearly, but not quite, touching the ground. I am still grounded in the physical world and as such am far more vulnerable when flying the Plane. But the flying itself cannot be helped, for it is the swiftest way to travel. My surest guarantee of safety — though it is anything but sure — is to stay close to the ground, finish my business in the Otherworlds, and return to my own world with haste.
I follow the river past the house and toward the stables. The water rushes below, and it takes effort to avoid thinking of Henry. I have not seen him in the Otherworlds since his death, though I have not seen my parents there either since shortly before it. I have not attempted to contact them on the Plane. I know well the risk they face.
My mother and father have been running from the Souls since their respective deaths, refusing to cross into the Final World in case I should need their help. I can only hope that whichever world my parents occupy, it is one in which they are together with my brother.
There is a lake some distance past the stables, and it is here that I touch my feet to the wild grass surrounding the water. It has become more and more difficult to find locations near my childhood home that do not hold some horrifying memory, but this is still one place in which nothing bad has happened. Even on the Plane, I can feel the grass, green and springy, beneath my feet. It reminds me of the many times Alice and I stood barefoot in this very spot, taking turns throwing stones into the water to see who could throw them the farthest.
I gaze across the field in the direction of the house and am not surprised to see her coming. I learned long ago the power of thought on the Plane. One need only think of the person one wishes to see, and that person or being will feel the call.
Alice walks toward me from the direction of the stables, and I know even this small thing, the choice to walk rather than fly, is no accident. It is Alice’s way of reminding me that here in the Otherworlds, I am on her territory. That with the protection of the Souls, she may move at leisure while I must hurry and hide.
I watch my sister approach, taking note of her figure, slighter now than when I left. She still walks with characteristic confidence, that lift of chin and straightening of the back that has always been my sister’s way of carrying herself, but when she stops in front of me, I am truly taken aback.
Her skin is as pale as the sheets that covered the furniture in the Dark Room after our mother’s death. I would think Alice sickly if not for the hum of tension in her body. I feel it speeding just under her skin, as real as if it were crackling under my own. Her cheekbones jut harshly from her face, an echo to the gauntness of her figure, once feminine and now so slender that her clothes hang loosely from her frame.
But it is her eyes that make my stomach twist with fear and loss. The vibrant glimmer that was always uniquely Alice has been replaced with an unnatural shine. It speaks of the ancient prophecy that has us in its grip and to t
he evil of the Souls and their hold on my sister. It tells me she is lost.
She looks at me carefully, as if by looking closely enough she might see the changes in me and my newfound power. After a few moments, she smiles, and it is this that turns the sadness in my heart into something I almost cannot bear, for it is the old Alice smile, the one she used to save just for me. The one in which I can glimpse the sorrow lurking beneath her nearly manic charm. It is disturbing to see my sister’s shadow prowling beneath the lines of harsh cheekbones and hollow eyes.
I swallow hard and push away the memories. When I say her name, it feels foreign on my tongue. “Alice.”
“Hello, Lia.” Her voice is just as I remember. If not for the fact that we are standing in the Otherworlds, in a place few recognize as real and fewer still can occupy, I might think we are meeting for tea. “I felt you calling.”
I nod. “I wanted to see you.” It is the simple truth, though the reasons are far from simple.
She tips her head. “Why would you want to see me? I imagine you are quite busy at the moment.” There is patronizing humor in her voice, as if my trip to Altus is an imaginary adventure crafted by a child.
“As are you, from what I hear.”
Her eyes grow flinty with suppressed anger. “I suppose Aunt Virginia has been speaking of me, then?”
“Only giving me news of my sister. And even then, not telling me anything I cannot see for myself.” I wonder if she will deny crossing into the physical world so that I could see her prowling the halls of Milthorpe Manor, but she does not.
“Ah, you must be speaking of my visit a few nights ago.” She actually looks amused.
“Alice, the veil between the worlds is sacred. You are breaking the laws of the Plane, laws set by the Grigori. I have never doubted your power, your ability to see and do things far beyond that which most Sisters can, but using the Plane to transport yourself to another place in the physical world is forbidden.”
She laughs, and the sound travels through the fields of the Otherworldly Plane. “Forbidden? Well, you know what they say: like mother like daughter.” The bitterness in her voice is palpable. I feel the heat of it on my face.
“Mother knew she wouldn’t be here to suffer the consequences of her actions.” It is harder now to speak of my mother. I know firsthand the horror of being enslaved by the prophecy, and it is difficult to blame her for escaping it, however horrifying her methods. “She did what she did only to protect her child, as any mother would. Surely you see the difference between her motivation and yours?”
Alice’s face hardens further. “Mother’s actions, whatever her motivation, were also a violation of the Grigori’s laws. She altered the course of the prophecy by casting the spell of protection around you. I can hardly congratulate her for violating an ancient law just before killing herself to avoid the consequences.”
It is not easy to keep my temper in hand, but talk of our mother will get us nowhere. There are more immediate things with which I must concern myself.
“Edmund tells me you have been seeing James.”
The smile, sinister and sly, creeps to the corners of her mouth. “Well, the Douglases are dear friends of the family. And James has always taken an interest in Father’s library, as you well know.”
“Don’t toy with me, Alice. Edmund says you have become friendly, that you spend time with James… invite him to tea.”
She shrugs. “What of it? James was saddened by your departure. Isn’t it only right to offer him friendship in the wake of his loss? Or is only one Milthorpe sister good enough for James Douglas?”
I have to swallow hard before answering. Even now, it is impossible to imagine James with anyone but me.
“Alice… You know well my feelings for James. Even in the prophecy, there are things… sacred things that must not be trifled with. Henry was one of those things.” I choke out the words feeling as if they cut my throat to pieces. “James is another. An innocent. He has done nothing to harm you — or to harm anyone. I would ask you as one sister to another to leave him alone.”
Her face grows impassive. It takes on a familiar stillness, and I remember a time when I could watch Alice for what seemed like hours and never see a flicker of emotion pass over her fine features. For one naive moment I believe she might consider my appeal. But just as quickly I see the anger darken her eyes. Worse than anger, worse than ambivalence, I see the pleasure she takes in holding the power to harm another.
I see it and know my request will have no effect. It will instead be taken as a challenge, a gauntlet Alice will not be able to ignore. I see it all in an instant and know I have done far more harm to James than if I had never spoken of him at all. When Alice finally speaks, her words come as no surprise.
“I don’t think James is any of your concern, Lia. In fact, I think it is safe to say you gave up the right to comment on his life when you abandoned him and fled to London with hardly a word.”
I steady myself against her words, for she is right, of course. I did leave James, and I did so with no more than a letter, a passing mention of our love before boarding the train that would take me away from Birchwood.
Away from Birchwood and away from James.
And so there is nothing more to say. Alice will use any and all of her power to see that Samael can cross into our world, and she will do so with as little thought as she gives to making James a pawn in the game of the prophecy.
“Is that all, Lia?” Alice asks. “Because frankly, I’m growing tired of these conversations. Conversations in which you ask the same questions over and over again. Silly questions, really, with the simplest of answers: Because I want to. Because I can.” She smiles, and it so pure and so without guile that I believe for a moment that I may actually be going mad. “Is there anything else?”
“No.” I want it to sound strong, but it is just a whisper. “There is nothing else. You needn’t worry. I will not seek you again. Not for a purpose such as this. Not to ask a simple question. The next time I seek you it will be to finish this once and for all.”
She narrows her eyes, studying me closely, and this time there can be no mistake that it is she who attempts to take the measure of my power. “Just be certain you want to bring this to its conclusion,” she says. “Because when you do, when it’s all over for good, one of us will be dead.”
She turns and walks away without another word. I stare after her until she is but a speck in the distance.
11
When I awaken the next morning, it is so dark that I think it is still night. But when I look around the tent, I see that Luisa is gone. Sonia is asleep, so I ease from beneath my blankets and make my way from the tent, trying to figure out the time. It is the sky that tells me it is morning, for though it is a deep midnight overhead, the color gradually lightens, becoming the palest of blues near the sunrise in the distance.
Even still, I know it must be very early. Edmund is awake, still at his post at the edge of camp. I approach him without trying to be quiet. I shouldn’t like to have the shotgun pointed my way. I speak his name when I am still some distance away.
“Edmund?”
He turns his head without alarm. “It’s early yet. What are you doing up?”
I stop in front of him, lowering myself to a neighboring boulder so that we are eye to eye. “I don’t know. I woke up and saw that Luisa wasn’t in the tent. Have you seen her?”
He shakes his head, genuine puzzlement in his eyes. “No. I haven’t heard a thing.”
I gaze out into the darkness of the forest. It is quite possible Luisa had personal needs that required attending. I say nothing to Edmund for fear of embarrassing us both, though I am confounded by the idea that Luisa would go into the woods alone after our discussion about Sonia doing the very same thing.
“Were there any problems last night?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Not really. I heard some rustling, but whatever it was didn’t sound large and didn’t sound fast. Probabl
y just the animals that make their home here.”
“What are our chances, really, of escaping the Hounds?”
He does not respond right away, and I know he will not give me the answer I want, but one true and based on thought and calculation. “About fifty-fifty, I’d say, mostly because we’re in the woods, and we’re growing closer and closer to the sea. Smaller creeks and streams are already becoming bigger rivers. Our chances of hitting a large body of water are getting better by the day. There are only a couple of things that worry me.”
I push down my panic at the thought of crossing a deep and swiftly moving river. “Such as?”
“If Samael has sent the Hounds after us, there are other things he could send along the way. The Hounds may not be our only obstacle.”
I prod him to continue. “All right. You said ‘a couple of things.’ What is the other one?”
He stares down at the ground before meeting my eyes. “A large body of water would be a blessing and a curse. Anything big enough to prevent the Hounds from crossing might well be big enough to keep us from crossing as well. But that is not really the worst of it, if you know what I’m getting at.”
I nod. “If we find a river, we’ll have no choice but to try and cross it to lose the Hounds. But we might not know if it’s even possible until we are halfway across.”
“That’s right.”
“It is not as if we have a choice, is it?” I continue without waiting for an answer. “We will just have to keep moving and brave the water when the time comes. Time and fortune have been on our side so far. We have to hope it will continue to be so.”
“I suppose you’re right.” But he does not sound too sure.
I stand up and brush myself off. “I still have not heard Luisa return, but I think I know where she may be. I will see if I can find her. It’s not far at all.”
He nods. “I’ll start breakfast. We should leave soon.” I am already halfway to the tree line when his voice finds me. “Don’t go too far. I’m fast, but if you run into trouble, it would be best if you were close.”
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