Lily (4 page)

‘Yes, but—’

The dog shrugged. ‘You’ll have to be satisfied with that. It’s all I can tell you. Now, biscuits? And while we’re finding them, who is the other girl? The one who looks like a miserable mouse?’

Lily stumbled up the stairs, too intent on staring at the dog to look where she was going. ‘That’s my sister. Georgiana. I don’t see her very much.’

‘Whyever not? Arabel – my mistress, the pink-dress girl – she had three sisters, and we could never get away from them.’

‘Arabel…’ Lily murmured. ‘Georgie told me about her. She was one of our great-aunts. She made weather spells, and she never ever wore coats. Weather spells are supposed to be a Powers thing, we’re all meant to be good at them.’

The dog sniffed. ‘After my time, I think. Arabel’s spells always went wrong, when I knew her. Why don’t you see your sister?’

‘She’s too busy. She’s being taught, you see. She’s supposed to revive the fortunes of the family, so things can go back to the way they were before.’

‘Before what?’

Lily stopped at the top of the stairs. ‘Oh! Of course, you wouldn’t know. Before the Decree. Um…magic isn’t allowed any more.’

The dog stared at her, and then snorted dismissively. ‘Who says?’

‘Queen Sophia ordered it – after a magician called Marius Grange killed her father, King Albert. Thirty years ago.’

‘Did she now…?’ the dog said slowly. ‘Well, that would do it. Completely banned?’

Lily nodded. ‘Completely. For ever. That’s why Mama is secretly teaching Georgie, and Father is in prison. And why we never leave the island.’

The dog shook its whiskers in a sort of shudder. ‘You don’t go to the London house, even?’

‘We don’t have it any more. We lost a lot of money after the Decree, and the London house was taken away. Stolen, Georgie used to say. Then Father tried to have an audience with the queen, to persuade her that not all magicians were mad. Only it went terribly wrong, somehow, and he was thrown into prison. There’s some money, from Mama’s family, just not as much of it as there used to be. Mama complains that we’re beggars now, but Martha – she’s one of the maids – says that’s complete nonsense, and Mama hasn’t a clue. Beggars don’t have maids, for a start, she says.’ Lily paused, and then asked hesitantly, as though she felt she should already know, ‘Do you have a name? I can’t just call you Dog.’

The pug dipped its head a little shyly, and nodded. ‘Henrietta. Arabel chose it.’ It glanced up at her, seeming uncertain for the first time.

Lily smiled. It was a strange, fussy-sounding name, but it suited the odd little creature. ‘It’s pretty,’ she promised. Then she sighed. ‘Do you think I should talk to Georgie?’

Henrietta nodded vigorously. ‘Yes. I want to know what she’s looking so woebegone about.’ She looked up at Lily. ‘I like knowing things, and it’s most unpleasant not knowing anything after years being shut up in a frame. Everything seems to have changed.’ She glanced sideways at the faded, gently peeling wallpaper. ‘And not necessarily for the better. I need to find some things out.’

‘So you couldn’t ever see anything when you were in the painting?’ Lily asked curiously. ‘You weren’t – alive?’

Henrietta frowned. The wrinkles on her face deepened, enough for Lily to think idly that they were deep enough to hide marbles in. ‘Just occasionally. I think it was if someone with a lot of magic stood near, and actually
saw
us, really looked, I mean. Then I could see too.’ She nudged Lily’s cheek with her startlingly cold nose. ‘I saw you.’

Lily blushed. ‘I liked looking at you, and Great Aunt Arabel. I always wished you’d come out of the picture. But I’m not the one with a lot of magic, that’s Georgie.’

Henrietta shrugged. ‘You’ve got enough. Is this her room?’

Lily nodded, and knocked on the door. There was an intent, listening silence from inside, but that was all. She tried the handle, but the door seemed to be locked – which was odd, because she knew that the key had been lost years ago. Still, she supposed Georgie didn’t need a key to lock her door any more. She stroked the door panels thoughtfully, wondering what spell her sister had used. Until an hour or so before, she would have stomped away grumpily, shut out by magic again. But now she had Henrietta. She didn’t know quite what that proved, but she was sure it was something. Could she feel a prickle in her fingertips as she swept them across the edge of the door? Perhaps.

‘I can’t make it open,’ she whispered to Henrietta. ‘But I’ve an idea.’

Lily hurried along the passage to her own door, which was next to Georgie’s, and slipped inside. She had left the window open that morning, as the clear richness of the blue sky had promised another hot day.

Henrietta looked around curiously as Lily put her down on the chair by the tall window. ‘This is a nice room. Arabel slept on the other side of the house, I think. This must look out on the rose garden – over the blue drawing room, yes? It’s rather dusty though.’ She sneezed delicately.

Lily sighed. ‘It’s hard to get maids who want to come and live on the island. They have to sign a paper saying they’ll stay, you see. Most girls won’t. They know something strange must be happening here, something wrong, so they don’t want to work here.’

Henrietta nodded thoughtfully. ‘Do your servants know about the magic, then?’

Lily shrugged. ‘Everyone knows, but they never say. Not once they’ve met Mama, anyway. Who would dare? When the Queen’s Men come and question the servants to make sure that we’re all keeping to the terms of the Decree, Mama is always standing behind them, with her arms folded, and that look she has. They’d never tell.’ She smiled. ‘And they have to be very well paid, which is another reason we don’t have enough maids to clean my bedroom very often.’ She glanced around. ‘I suppose it is dirty. I do try and dust it sometimes.’

‘I want to see your sister again.’ The black dog jumped down from the chair and followed her to the window. ‘You said you had an idea?’

‘Oh, yes. Look, out here. There’s a balcony, and Georgie’s room has one too. It isn’t far from one to the other.’ Lily stepped over the low sill of the window, and leaned over to look along the wall. ‘Georgie’s window is open too!’ she hissed.

Henrietta put her paws on the windowsill and peered out. ‘That may not be far for you, Lily, but I think I shall stay here. Pugs aren’t built for climbing. I shall watch. If you can persuade your sister to open her door, then you can come and let me in.’ Then her ears twitched, and when she spoke again it was in a lower voice, not her usual ladylike growly squeak. ‘I can hear someone. Downstairs.’

Lily, who had been hanging over the delicate wrought-iron balcony, trying to see into Georgie’s room, gave a little gasp. ‘Mama uses the blue drawing room,’ she whispered.

‘Someone else too. She’s talking to someone. Shhh, listen.’ The little dog settled her chin on her front paws with a gleeful expression. Clearly the occupants of the room below had moved closer to the open French windows. Lily sat down on the balcony, leaning against the railings, and hearing the words drift out into the summer evening.

‘Is she any better, ma’am?’

‘She’s talking to Marten, her lady’s maid,’ Lily whispered.

‘Hardly at all. I had such hopes…’ There was a rustle of stiff silk that made Lily shiver. Mama was pacing again, her skirt swishing around her.

‘Are they talking about your sister?’ Henrietta breathed.

‘I expect so.’

There was silence for a moment from downstairs, then as Lily’s mother came past the window again, her voice floated upwards, unnaturally clear. ‘If only I could do it myself…’

Lily shivered. Mama was speaking half-spells again, the words forming strange colours and lights in Lily’s mind, like swirls of scented smoke. She shook them away hastily, digging the hard iron of the balcony rail into her hands, until her mind was clear again.

‘But the prophecy was quite clear. It has to be a child that brings it all about. I was so certain that she was the one. That seer I brought over here after she was born swore to me that this was the child that had been foretold. She lied, perhaps… Well, I suppose we can always send this one the way of the others. But such a lot of time wasted!’ An expressive sigh. ‘And I am running out of time…’ She laughed bitterly. ‘And children.’

Lily frowned at Henrietta, whose ears were twitching frantically. ‘What does that mean? Oh, there’s the bell, and I can hear her moving away. She’s going in to dinner.’

‘Look!’ the pug hissed, nodding towards the next-door balcony. ‘How long has she been there?’

Lily twisted round, gripping the railings and looking across at Georgie’s balcony. It was wider than her own, and she hadn’t noticed the strange little heap in the corner when she was trying to look into Georgie’s room. But now she realised that it was Georgie herself, curled up against the wall, her whitish hair shining in the strange thundery evening light. Listening.

‘Georgie! Mama and Marten have gone. Georgie, I want to talk to you. Unlock your door, please! I’m sorry I was mean.’

But her sister didn’t so much as move.

‘Oh!’ Lily muttered crossly. ‘Well, I shall just have to climb across and shake her! I’ll make her listen!’ She sprang up, and swung one leg over the low iron railings.

‘Be careful…’ Henrietta laid her ears back. ‘The whole house is crumbling, that doesn’t look at all safe – and where are you going to put that foot now? Not there, you can’t reach! Lily, no!’

But Lily had jumped, flinging herself at the next balcony, the same way she clambered about in the apple trees in the orchard. Except there she fell onto long grass and several years’ worth of rotten apples, not a stone flagged terrace.

With one elbow hooked around the top edge of Georgie’s balcony, Lily heaved to pull herself up, but she could feel her arm slipping already.

‘Georgie, help me!’ she gasped, her breath coming in frightened pants. But her sister seemed far away, her eyes blank and staring behind a white veil of hair.

Henrietta had scrambled out of the window, and was now scurrying backwards and forwards on the balcony, whining in horror. Then all at once she barked, a sharp, angry noise, that caught the back of Lily’s neck like nails scratching down paint. She shuddered horribly, and managed to struggle another couple of inches of arm over the railings.

Georgie stirred for the first time, flinging her hair back out of her face wearily, like someone waking from a strange dream.

‘Lily!’

‘W
hat were you doing, you idiot?’ Georgie yelled, hauling her little sister over onto her balcony.

Lily sat panting on the stone floor, rubbing her strained arms, and giggling feebly.

‘Don’t
laugh
!’ Georgie snapped, giving her a little shake. ‘What were you thinking of? You would have died if you’d fallen onto the terrace!’

‘I know. But it’s so funny – this is the first time you’ve acted like my big sister in ages. Maybe I should do stupid things more often.’ She smiled up at Georgie, leaning back against her sister’s knees, and not minding the tight grip of her fingers. ‘Wouldn’t you have cast a spell to catch me, anyway, if I fell?’

Her sister sat down next to her, hugging her arms around her knees. ‘I don’t know if I could, Lily.’ She closed her eyes, as though it hurt to look at her sister. ‘I would have tried. Of course I would. But nothing works.’

‘The prophecy…’ Lily started.

‘Wrong.’ Georgie shrugged. ‘Or perhaps that seer was simply too frightened of Mama to say anything different. Mama’s worried that another child will be better than I am. There are other magical families still. There’s an Endicott girl, the same age as me, she says…’

‘Oh…’ Lily nodded thoughtfully. ‘So that’s why Mama is so angry all the time now.’ Then she frowned. ‘Georgie, what is it that they want you to do?’

There was a skitter of claws, and Henrietta poked her wrinkled muzzle through the bars of Lily’s balcony. ‘Yes! I want to know that too, please!’

Georgie sprang up, nearly tipping Lily over, then seized her sister, and dragged her back against the wall of the house, holding an arm across her front. ‘Who’s there?’ she snapped.

‘Georgie, stop it!’ Lily wriggled out from Georgie’s grip, and pointed. ‘Look! It’s only Henrietta.’ She smiled, a proud little smirk. ‘She’s my dog. I brought her out of the picture of the girl in the pink silk dress downstairs. It’s Great Aunt Arabel, did you know that?’ She looked up, and caught the expression of horror and fear that had turned Georgie even paler than she was before. ‘What is it? Oh… Are you worried that I stole her? Great Aunt Arabel does look rather cross about it, but unless we bring her out of the picture too, there isn’t a great deal she can do, is there? Don’t worry, Georgie.’

But her sister was staring at her, her eyes dark violet pools in her white face, eyes the colour of bruises. ‘
You
brought the little dog out of the painting? Your magic – you’re starting to find your magic,’ she murmured, her face twisting strangely.

Lily nodded. ‘Are you angry?’ she asked, her voice small and thin. ‘I won’t tell Mama, if you don’t want me to. I’m sure yours will work again – perhaps it’s – it’s just your age…’