Authors: Kiki Sullivan
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #People & Places, #United States, #General, #Fantasy & Magic
“Wait, Main de Lumière still exists?”
“Unfortunately.” Aunt Bea’s expression is grave. “In fact, I think it’s possible they found you in New York. The way you described the man you thought was following you—pale face, blond hair, slinking around in the shadows—it fits what we know of Main de Lumière soldiers.”
“And they’re after me because . . . ?”
“As this generation’s direct descendant to Eléonore, you’re the next in line to the throne.”
My mouth goes dry. “I’m a . . . zandara queen?” I manage.
She looks down for a long time before answering. “I wanted to protect you as long as I could, because I think your mother might still be alive if it wasn’t for zandara. And because I wanted you to have better values than this town would have given you. You’re different from Peregrine and Chloe, Eveny. They may be your sister queens, but that doesn’t mean you have to become one of them.”
I shake my head. “But I’ve never felt powerful or magical or capable of anything close to what you’re talking about.”
Aunt Bea frowns. “A queen comes into her abilities on her seventeenth birthday, which means that you wouldn’t have begun feeling anything magical until last week.”
I stare at her in disbelief. I’m not sure what to ask first, so I settle for the simplest question. “Okay, I can see why we had to leave New York if you thought some Main de Lumière guy had found me, but we could have hid somewhere cool and far away like London or Paris or the Siberian tundra. Why come back to Carrefour?”
“You’re safest here. The whole town is under a protective charm. Unless someone is in possession of a key, which is passed down through generations and bestowed on new families only by the queens, they can’t enter. It’s like there’s an invisible barbed wire fence all around us.
“In fact,” she adds, “we believe Main de Lumière has finally found Carrefour after all these years because, without your mom to complete the triumvirate, the protective charms have weakened. Peregrine’s and Chloe’s mothers have been able to continue performing the annual Mardi Gras Possession ceremony, so they’ve accrued
some
favors from the spirits, but their power has greatly diminished and so has the protection around the town.”
“But now that I’m back . . . ,” I say in a hollow voice.
“You, Peregrine, and Chloe are all seventeen. That means you’re queens now and can begin casting together, restoring the full power of a triumvirate to Carrefour. But,” she continues, her face darkening, “I don’t trust them, Eveny, and I don’t trust their mothers. They’ve used their magic selfishly and carelessly, drawing power in ways that are strictly forbidden. The town is dying because of it.”
“So what am I supposed to do?” I ask desperately.
“I don’t know, I really don’t.” She leans in to kiss me on the forehead and adds, “Remember, there are only a handful of people in town who know about this. You must keep all of it a secret, or you’ll put us in terrible danger.” She checks her watch and grimaces. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. We can talk more later.”
She walks out of the room before I can get another word out.
A moment later, I hear the front door open and slam closed, then the sound of her car’s engine being revved in the driveway. By the time I make it to the front window to look outside, she’s already gone, leaving me alone with a thousand questions I don’t have the answers to.
I stay home from school that day because I can’t go off to Pointe Laveau and pretend that things are normal after everything I’ve just learned. Besides, my brain feels as muddled as if I’d just downed a half dozen lunchtime gin and tonics in the Hickories. I go out to the garden to try to talk to Boniface, but he’s not in his cottage, and I can’t find him anywhere on the grounds. I search the house for books or notes that might be related to zandara, but I come up empty on that front too.
I consider calling Peregrine or Chloe, but I realize I have no idea what I’d say. There isn’t exactly an approved script for the hey-I-saw-you-performing-a-creepy-ceremony-and-now-I-know-you’re-a-queen conversation I’d need to have with them. I pull the Justin doll out and stare at it for a while as if it might be able to provide some answers, but its
x
’s for eyes begin to creep me out, so I shove it back in my desk drawer.
By mid-afternoon, I’m still going crazy over Aunt Bea’s crazy revelations when the doorbell rings. I squeeze my eyes shut and hope that whoever it is goes away, but the bell rings again and again. Finally, I hurl myself out of bed and slouch down the stairs. By the time I get to the front hallway, the doorbell has sounded a sixth time, and I’m ready to punch whomever I find standing there.
But when I yank open the front door and see Peregrine and Chloe, my jaw falls. I’m not ready for this yet.
“Why hello, Eveny!” Peregrine trills. She’s still wearing her Pointe Laveau uniform, which she has paired with black, thigh-high perforated leather boots and blood-red lipstick. Her smooth black stone with the jagged edge hangs just above the ornate hook and eye of a black fur capelet. She’s carrying a huge quilted leather Chanel bag. “We certainly hope we didn’t wake you. We were concerned when we didn’t see you in school!”
“You were?” I ask skeptically.
“Of course, sweetie!” Chloe chimes in. She’s dressed nearly as outrageously in platform ankle boots and a long sable coat that I swear I saw in
Vogue
this month. Her black stone necklace shines against her smooth, tan skin. “Are you all right? Do you need anything?”
I’m not surprised to see that their smiles don’t reach their eyes.
“So?” Peregrine prompts after a moment. “Why did you miss school?”
I debate what to say but settle on the truth. “I saw you last night, in the cemetery.”
The color drains from Chloe’s face, and Peregrine’s expression hardens.
“What is it you think you saw, exactly?” Peregrine asks carefully.
“I saw you practicing zandara,” I tell her.
Their mouths open into identical
o
’s of surprise.
“You know what zandara is?” Chloe asks. “We figured your aunt hadn’t told you yet.”
“She hadn’t,” I say. “Until this morning.”
They look at each other and then back at me. “Remarkable,” Peregrine breathes. Then she shoots me a dazzling smile. “What I mean to say is,
perfect
. Chloe and I have been studying for years, so there’s no one better to learn from than us.
“But first things first,” she adds, leaning forward. “Now that you know the truth, let’s go have some fun.”
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
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F
ive minutes later, I’m folded uncomfortably into the back of Peregrine’s cherry-red Aston Martin DB Mark III hatchback, after she has sworn up and down that she’s left her creepy snake at home. She guns the engine and roars down the hill toward the center of town while Chloe turns around in the passenger seat and stares at me.
“What?” I finally ask.
“It’s just amazing, that’s all,” she says. “To grow up with no idea about any of this. I can’t even imagine what you must be thinking!”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“Well, I’m sure you have questions,” she says excitedly. “Ask us anything!”
“Okay.” I hesitate. “How do we cast spells, for example?”
Peregrine rolls her eyes at me in the rearview mirror. “They’re not
spells
, Eveny. You are not a character in
Bewitched
. They’re called
charms
.”
“Ignore her,” Chloe says. “There are a few things to know: First, all charms have to start with asking Eloi Oke to open the gate so that we can talk to the spirits. Second, they all have to involve herbs or flowers, because we channel our power from them. Third, they always have to be specific. Like you can’t say, ‘Make all the boys fall in love with me.’ Instead you’d have to ask for your own beauty enhancements, or ask for the love of a specific guy. Or both.”
“Assuming you’re completely lame and believe the best use of your immense power is to make boys love you,” Peregrine says with a snort.
Chloe turns red. “Peregrine thinks that only losers fall in love,” she tells me.
“No, I believe that only losers use their powers for something so entirely pointless.” Peregrine glances at me in the rearview mirror again. “But while we’re on the topic of losers and powers, Eveny, why don’t we have you do a little charm with us today? Our strength is much greater when there are three of us, so really, this should be no big deal. It’s just to open the gates of Carrefour for one teeny, tiny night so that we can have a fraternity party.”
It’s the charm I overheard them trying to cast in the cemetery, the one Pascal thought didn’t work. “Look, I’m all for the idea of bringing a bunch of hot college guys to town, but are you sure we should be opening the gates if a bunch of magic-haters are out to kill us?”
“I told you she’d be a nerd about this,” Peregrine singsongs. “Maybe a better question is why Main de Lumière is after us in the first place. Or didn’t your aunt tell you that?”
“Peregrine—” Chloe says in a warning tone.
“It was your great-great-great-grandmother Eléonore’s fault,” Peregrine says, cutting her off. “
Our
great-great-great-grandmothers were wise enough to realize that if they had this kind of power, they shouldn’t waste their time on something as pointless as falling in love. But Eléonore decided she was above all that. She fell for a man and let him get to know her daughters, and look what happened: he killed one of them.”
“The murderer was Eléonore’s boyfriend?” I ask.
“She was engaged to marry him,” Peregrine says smugly. “When she and our ancestors fled to Carrefour before he could finish the job, he vowed that he’d find us, no matter how long it took. It’s revenge, pure and simple, passed down through the generations, all because of Eléonore’s stupidity.”
Chloe takes over. “What she’s trying to say, Eveny, is that after Eléonore made that mistake, the queens vowed they’d never let their hearts get in the way again. They need to give birth to continue their bloodlines, but they decided it was easier to have one-night stands then use zandara to make the men forget. It just uncomplicates things.”
It takes me a second to grasp what she’s saying. “Wait, your fathers don’t have any idea you’re their kids?”
“We don’t even know who our fathers are,” Peregrine says. “And when you don’t know someone in the first place, they can never deliberately let you down, like your father did. I mean, our dads don’t know we’re theirs, but yours
chose
to abandon you.”
Peregrine obviously thinks she’s pushing my buttons, but I’m not about to waste my time and push back. Instead, I return to the more pressing topic. “How are you so sure Main de Lumière has found Carrefour?”
The question is greeted with silence. Finally, Chloe says, “Because we’re fairly certain they killed Glory.”
My blood runs cold. “I thought she killed herself. Didn’t she?”
“The police chief is part of our mothers’ sosyete,” Chloe says. “He helped cover up her death and make it look like a suicide.”
“Otherwise it would have panicked everyone, made them leave town. We can’t afford for people to be leaving right now, especially in the Périphérie. Our power has to come from somewhere,” Peregrine adds.
“What?”
“What Peregrine’s trying to say,” Chloe interjects, “is that in every great society, there are people of privilege and people who make sacrifices for the people of privilege. You need that separation to keep things balanced. Though we totally make life as comfortable as possible for the people who don’t live in central Carrefour!”
“But you don’t treat them as equals,” I say. When neither of them says anything, I push down my annoyance at their snobby attitude and ask why they suspect Main de Lumière of killing Glory.
“Their pattern is always the same,” Chloe explains. “They stab practitioners of magic through the heart, because that’s the source of our greatest power. And that’s how Glory died.”
My mind flicks to my mother. If Glory’s suicide was staged, is it possible my mom’s was too? But her wounds were to her neck, not her heart. . . . I fight off a sense of disappointment and say, “I thought the charm around the gates was supposed to protect us from intruders getting in.”
“Main de Lumière could only have gotten to Glory if they recruited someone who already lives here in Carrefour,” Peregrine says. For the first time, she looks worried instead of just smug. “In other words, someone who grew up in town, maybe even someone we’re friends with, has turned their back on us and joined Main de Lumière.”
I gape at her. “No offense, but with all of this going on, doing some sort of charm to let strangers into town doesn’t exactly seem like a genius move.”
“First of all, opening the gates isn’t going to have any impact on the person who’s already here,” she snaps. “Second of all, we only invited the very hottest fraternity guys from LSU, and they’ve all passed their background checks with flying colors. Plus, we’ll have Oscar and Patrick, two older guys who work for us, checking IDs at the gate. No one will get in if they’re not on the list.
“Besides,” she adds, “if Carrefour gets any more boring, there’ll be no point in protecting it anyway. Don’t you see, Eveny? We can have anything we want. Good grades. Fabulous clothes. Immunity from teachers’ punishments. Control over everything. Lust and love from whatever boys we choose. It’s all ours. Doesn’t that interest you?”
I feel a surge of excitement, despite my trepidation. “Of course it does.”
“So you’ll join us?” Chloe asks.
“Well . . . yeah.” I suspect I don’t have much of a choice, but I have to admit, the possibilities of what this means are tempting.
Peregrine pulls into a space on Main Street, parallel parking in one impressive attempt. I unfold from the backseat and launch myself onto the sidewalk.
“Welcome aboard,” Chloe says, linking arms with me and pulling me toward a pair of pink double doors on the corner. “Now let’s get you looking like the queen you are.”