Rebel Angels

by Libba Bray

  “It is not a secret,”I say, blushing. "It is nothing, really. He has invited my family to dinner. That is all.”

  Felicity looks as if someone has dropped her in the middle of the Thames. “You’ve been invited to dinner? That is certainly something.”

  “It is bad manners to discuss people I’ve never met,” Ann says, pouting.

  Felicity takes pity on her. “Simon Middleton is not only a viscount’s son but exceedingly handsome. And he seems to have taken an interest in Gemma, though she doesn’t wish us to know about it.”

  “It is nothing, truly,”I protest. "He was simply being charitable, I’m sure.”

  “The Middletons are never charitable,” she says, looking down. "You must take great care around his mother. She scrutinizes people for sport.”

  “You’ve not put me at ease,” I say.

  “Forewarned is forearmed, Gemma.”

  Below us, Lady Denby says something merry that makes her companions laugh in that restrained way women learn somehow when they pack away their girlish selves. She doesn’t seem to be the monster Felicity makes her out to be.

  “What will you wear?” Ann asks dreamily.

  “Horns and the pelt of a large animal,” I say. Ann takes this in for a moment, as if she believes it wholeheartedly. What shall I do with her? “I shall wear a proper dress. Something that meets with my grandmother’s approval.”

  “You must give us every detail after,” Felicity says. "I shall be most interested to hear about it.”

  “Do you know Mr. Middleton well?” I pry.

  “I’ve known him for ages,” Felicity says. Standing there, with loose tendrils of golden hair curving under her chin, she looks a picture, her strange beauty at its most seductive.

  “I see. And have you set your sights on him?”

  Felicity makes a face. "Simon? He is like a brother to me. I can’t possibly imagine a romance with him.”

  I am relieved. It’s silly of me to pin my hopes on Simon so early, but he is charming and handsome and he seems to like me. His attention makes me feel beautiful. It is only a small string of excitement, but I find I do not want to let go of it so soon.

  One of Lady Denby’s companions looks up, sees us staring. Lady Denby follows her gaze.

  “Let’s go,” I whisper. "Come on!”

  “Must you push?” Felicity snipes as I practically fall over her. We duck down a hall. Felicity pulls us into an empty bedchamber and closes the door.

  Ann glances around nervously. "Should we be in here?”

  “You wanted privacy,” she says. "Now we have it.”

  There is a dressing gown draped across a chair, and several hatboxes in a corner. The room may be empty—for the moment—but it is most definitely not unoccupied.

  “We’ll have to work fast,” I say.

  “Precisely,” Felicity says, grinning.

  Ann looks as if she could be ill. "We shall be ruined. I know it.”

  But once we hold hands and I make the door of light appear, all discomfort is forgotten, swallowed whole by our awe.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  WE’VE BARELY STEPPED INTO THE BRIGHT GLOW OF the realms when everything goes dark; cold fingers press against my eyes. I slide out of the embrace, whirling around quickly to see Pippa standing behind me. She still wears her garland, though it’s begun to droop some. She’s added nettle and a pink narcissus to brighten it a bit.

  She giggles to see me gasping so. “Oh, poor Gemma! Did I frighten you?”

  “N-no. Well, a little, perhaps.”

  Felicity and Ann run to Pip with a shout and throw their arms around her.

  “What is the matter?”Ann asks me.

  “I gave our poor Gemma a start. Don’t be cross with me,” Pippa says, taking my hand. She speaks in a whisper. “I’ve a surprise. Follow me.”

  Pip leads us through the trees. "Close your eyes,” she calls. At last she stops. "Open them.”

  We’re at the river. On the water is a ship the likes of which I’ve never seen before. I’m not entirely sure that it is a ship, for it more resembles a dragon’s body, black and red, with great wings that stretch up on the sides. It is certainly of a monstrous size, curved at both ends, with one giant mast rising near the bow and a sail as thin as onionskin. Large ropes of seaweed hang over the sides, as do sparkling silver nets that float on the surface of the water. But the most extraordinary thing of all is the massive head attached to the front of the ship. It is green and scaly, with snakes as long as tree branches slithering about its fearsome, motionless face.

  “I’ve found her!” Pippa says excitedly. "I’ve found the gorgon!”

  That thing is the gorgon?

  “Quickly! Let’s ask her about the Temple before she gets away,” Pippa says, stepping closer to the intimidating ship. “Ahoy, there!”

  The gorgon swivels her face in our direction. The snakes of her head hiss and twist as if they’d like to eat us for disturbing their peace. Surely they would if they were not attached to that thing. I am not at all prepared when the creature opens her large yellow eyes.

  “What do you wish?” she asks, in a dark slither of a voice.

  “Are you the gorgon?” Pippa asks.

  “Yessss.”

  “Is it true that you are bound by the Order’s magic to do no harm and speak only truth?” she continues.

  The gorgon closes her eyes for the briefest moment. "Yesssss.”

  “We are looking for the Temple. Do you know it?” Pip demands.

  The eyes open again. “All know of it. None knows where it may be found. None but the Order, and they have not come for many years.”

  “Is there anyone who may know where to find it?” Pippa asks. She’s annoyed that the gorgon is proving so unhelpful.

  The gorgon looks to the river again. “The Forest of Lights. Philon’s tribe. Some say they were once allies to the Order. They may know where to look for this Temple.”

  “Very well, then,” Pippa says. “We wish to go to the Forest of Lights.”

  “Only one of the Order may bid me,” the gorgon says.

  “She is one of the Order,” Pippa says, pointing to me.

  “We shall see,” the gorgon hisses.

  “Go on, Gemma,” Felicity presses. "Try.”

  I step forward, clear my throat. The snakes fan out around the gorgon’s head like a writhing mane. They hiss at me, revealing their sharp, pointed fangs. Looking into that horrible face, it is hard to find my voice.

  “We wish to go to the Forest of Lights. Will you take us, gorgon?”

  In answer, one of the boat’s grand wings lowers slowly to shore, allowing us passage. Pippa and Felicity can barely contain their joy. They grin like happy fools as they step onto the plank.

  “Must we go on this?” Ann asks, hanging back.

  “Don’t be scared, Ann, darling. I’ll be with you,” Pippa says, pulling her forward.

  The wing creaks and sways as we make our way across it. Felicity reaches out and touches one of the nets hanging from the side of the barge.

  “These are light as cobwebs,” she says, fingering the delicate fibers. "What fish can you possibly catch with them?”

  “They are not for catching,” the gorgon says in her syrupy thick voice. "They are for warning.”

  Below us, the water swirls, sending a shimmer of pinks and violets to the surface.

  “Look how pretty,” Ann says, putting a hand to the water. “Wait, do you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” I ask.

  “There it is! Oh, that is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard,” Ann says, putting her face near the water. “It’s coming from the river. Something’s there, just below the surface.”

  Ann’s fingers touch the shimmery water, and for an instant, I think I see something moving very near her hand. Without warning, the great wing that has been lowered for us lifts quickly, forcing us to scurry onto the ship.

  “That was sudden,” Ann says. “The music’s
stopped. Now I’ll never know where that lovely song came from.” She pouts.

  “Some things are best not known,” the gorgon says.

  Ann shivers. "I don’t like this. We’ve no way off now.”

  Pippa gives Ann a kiss on the cheek like a mother soothing all fears. "We must be brave girls now. We must go to the Forest of Lights if we are to find the Temple.”

  The gorgon speaks again. "You are my mistress and must bid me go.”

  I realize she’s waiting for me. I look out at the twists and turns of the river, not knowing where it goes from here. “Very well,”I say, taking a deep breath. "Down the river, if you please.”

  The great boat purrs into motion. Behind us, the garden fades from view. We take a bend and the river widens. Immense stone beasts with long fangs and elaborate headdresses guard the distant shores. Like the gargoyles of Spence, they are unseeing but ominous, ancient guardians of what lies within. The water is rough here. Whitecaps rock the boat, making my stomach lurch.

  “Gemma, you look positively green,” Pippa says.

  “My father says if you can see where you are headed, it helps,” Felicity offers.

  Yes, anything. I’ll try anything. I leave my companions to their laughter and stories and step out onto the bow of the boat, sitting on the long, pointed end near our strange navigator.

  The gorgon senses me there. "Are you well, Most High?”

  That slithery black tongue catches me off guard. "I am indisposed. I shall be fine in a moment.”

  “You must breathe deeply. That is the way.”

  I take several deep breaths. It seems to work, and soon both the river and my belly are calm. "Gorgon,” I ask, when I find my courage, “are there more creatures like you?”

  “No,” comes the reply. "I am the last of my kind.”

  “What happened to the others?”

  “They were destroyed or banished during the rebellion.”

  “The rebellion?”

  “It was long, long ago,” the gorgon says, sounding weary. "Before the Runes of the Oracle.”

  “There was a time before the runes?”

  “Yesss. It was a time when the magic was loose inside the realms for all to use. But it was also a dark time. There were many battles as the creatures fought each other for more power. And it was a time when the veil between your world and ours was thin. We were able to come and go as we pleased.”

  “You could come into our world?” I ask.

  “Oh, yes. Such an interesting place.”

  I think of the stories I’ve read, stories of fairy sightings, ghosts, mythical sea creatures luring sailors to their deaths. Suddenly, they do not seem like mere stories.

  “What happened?”

  “The Order happened,” the gorgon says, and I cannot tell whether her tone is one of anger or relief.

  “Hadn’t the Order always existed?”

  “In a fashion. They were one of the tribes. Priestesses. Healers, mystics, seers. They ferried spirits across to the world beyond. They were the master makers of illusion. Their power was always great, but it grew stronger over time. It was rumored that they had found the source of all magic inside the realms.”

  “The Temple?”

  “Yesss,” comes the gorgon’s slithery reply. “The Temple. It was said the Order drank of its waters, and thus the magic became part of them. It lived in them, getting stronger with each generation. Now, they had more power than anyone else. What they did not like they sought to correct. They began to limit the creatures’ visits to your world. No one could enter without their permission.”

  “Is that when they built the runes?”

  “No,” the gorgon replies. "That was their revenge.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Several creatures from every tribe banded together. They resented the power the Order held over them. They did not want to ask permission. One day, they struck back. As several of the Order’s young initiates played in the garden, they caught them unaware, carrying them off to the Winterlands, where they slaughtered them all. And that was when the creatures discovered a horrible secret.”

  My mouth has gone dry with the tale. "What secret was that?”

  “The sacrifice of another granted enormous power.”

  Water rushes under us in a whoosh-whooshing, carrying us forward.

  “In their rage and grief, the Order built the runes as a seal on the magic. They closed the border between worlds so that only they could enter. Whatever remained on either side of the border remained imprisoned there forever.”

  I think of the marble columns of Spence, the creatures caught in stone there.

  “It remained thus for many years. Until one of your own betrayed the Order.”

  “Circe,” I say.

  “Yesss. She offered a sacrifice and gave power to the dark spirits of the Winterlands once more. The more spirits they brought to their side, the more powerful they became, the more the seal of the runes began to weaken.”

  “So that is why I was able to shatter them?” I ask.

  “Perhaps.” The gorgon’s answer is like a sigh. “Perhaps, Most High.”

  “Why do you call me Most High?”

  “That is who you are.”

  The others are leaning against the side of the boat. They take turns holding on to the ropes of the sails, letting their bodies push against the force of the wind. Pippa’s merry laugh drifts above the shooshing of the water. I have a question I want to ask, but I am afraid to say it aloud, afraid of what the answer might be.

  “Gorgon,” I start. "Is it true that the spirits of those from our world must cross over?”

  “That is the way it has always been.”

  “But are there some spirits who remain forever?”

  “I know of none who did not become corrupted and go to live in the Winterlands.”

  The wind’s caught Pippa’s garland. She chases it, laughing, before clutching it tightly in her hands.

  “But everything is different now, isn’t it?”

  “Yesss,” the gorgon hisses. "Different.”

  “So perhaps there is a way to change things.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Gemma!” Pippa calls. "How are you feeling?”

  “Much better!” I shout back.

  “Come back, then!”

  I leave my perch beside the gorgon and join the others.

  “Isn’t the river beautiful?” Pippa says, grinning widely. Indeed, it is a glorious teal blue here. "Oh, I’ve missed you all so very much. Did you miss me terribly?”

  Felicity runs to embrace her. She holds Pip fiercely. “I thought I should never see you again.”

  “You saw us not two days ago,” I remind her.

  “But I can scarcely bear it. It is nearly Christmas,” she says wistfully. "Have you been to any dances yet?”

  “No,” Ann reports. “But Felicity’s mother and father will have their Christmas ball.”

  “I suppose it will be very grand,” Pippa says, pouting.

  “I’m to wear my first gown,” Ann continues. She describes the gown in detail. Pippa asks us questions about the ball. It is as if we are back at Spence, sitting in the great hall in Felicity’s tent, gossiping, making plans.

  Smiling, Pippa twirls Felicity around as the boat creaks slowly down the river. “We are together. And we never have to part.”

  “But we have to go back,” I say.

  The hurt in Pippa’s eyes wounds me. “But when you form the Order again, you’ll come for me. Won’t you?”

  “Of course we will,” Felicity says. She’s fallen into step with Pippa again, happy to be near her.

  Pippa wraps her arms about Felicity and places her head on her shoulder. “You are my dearest friends in all the world. Nothing will ever change that.”

  Ann joins in the embrace. At last, I too put my arms about Pippa. We surround her like petals, and I try not to think about what shall happen to us all once we find the Temple.

&nbs
p; Around a sharp bend, the river opens, giving the most majestic view of the shore and the cliff caves that rise high above us. Goddesses have been carved into the rock. They stand, possibly fifty feet tall, adorned with elaborate coned headdresses. Their necks are strung with jewels. Save for that, they are naked and quite sensual, hips cocked at an angle, an arm placed behind the head just so, lips curved into a smile. Decency tells me I should look away, but I find I keep stealing glances.

  “Oh, gracious,” Ann says, looking up and immediately down.

  “What are those?” Felicity asks.

  The gorgon opens its mouth. "The Caves of Sighs. They are but abandoned ruins now, inhabited only by the Hajin, the Untouchables.”

  “The Untouchables?” I ask.

  “Yesss. There is one.” The gorgon’s head lolls to the right. Something scurries in the brush along the shore. "Filthy vermin.”

  “Why are they called Untouchables?” Ann asks.

  “They’ve always been thus. The Order banished them to the Caves of Sighs. No one goes there now. It is forbidden.”

  “Well, that isn’t fair,” Ann says, her voice rising. "It isn’t fair at all.” Poor Ann. She knows what it is to be an untouchable.

  “What was it used for before?” I ask.

  “It was the place where the Order took their lovers.”

  “Lovers?” Felicity asks.

  “Yes.”The gorgon pauses before adding, “The Rakshana.”

  I don’t know what to say to this. "The Rakshana and the Order were lovers?”

  The gorgon’s voice sounds far away. "Once.”

  Felicity gives a shout. “Look at that!” She points to the horizon, where a heavy mist falls from the sky like shavings of gold, obscuring our view of what lies ahead. It roars like a waterfall.

  “Are we going through there?” Ann asks, worried.

  Pippa pulls Ann close. “Don’t fret so. It will be all right, I’m sure, else the gorgon wouldn’t bring us through it. Isn’t that right, Gemma?”

  “Yes, of course,” I say, trying not to seem as truly terrified as I feel. For I’ve no idea what will become of us. "Gorgon, you are bound to do us no harm. Is that so?”

  But my question is drowned out by the relentless pounding of the golden waterfall. We huddle together on the floor of the ship. Ann closes her eyes tightly. As we push forward, I shut my eyes too, afraid to know what’s going to happen next. With the roar thick in our ears, we pass through this damp curtain and emerge on the other side, where the river becomes like an ocean with no land in sight, save for a verdant island in the distance.