The Flame in the Mist (38 page)

“I return with my Gifts. For you—for us! Mama, Papa, just imagine: the crag’s magic restored to it; the wealth that the quarry will bring again; the castle brought back to its former glory—better, even! Together, we can do this, and so much more! If you don’t believe me”—Jemma’s heart was
hammering, on the edge of her greatest bluff—“then capture me now!”

She spread out her arms. Nobody moved. “Well?”

Feo beamed. Nox’s eyes crinkled. Shade’s were full of hatred. The triplets looked horrified.

“The crag’s magic restored, you say?” Nocturna stepped up to Jemma, her Eau de Magot perfume like a toxic aura. “And how do you know about the crag and the quarry?”

“My dreams,” Jemma said. “I saw it all. The quarry closing down, the fortune ending—”

“Oh, please! Any fool could have told you that!” Shade pushed her mother aside and shoved her face inches from Jemma’s. “
They
might want to believe you,” she hissed, “Papa with his simpering eyes, just look at him! He still can’t take them off you, his dear little Jem
-mah
. Neither can Feo, mesmerized by a pretty face, if you can call it that. As for Mama, she’s so desperate for Power, she’d believe anything. But you can’t make an ass of
me
!”

“Are you suggesting, Shade,” Nocturna growled, “that I’m so easily taken in?”

“Well, Mama, she escaped on your watch, if I may remind you—”

“As you have reminded me a thousand times since!”

“I would never have let her go! And as for you, Papa, you always were the biggest fool for her. Who’s to say she’s not tricking you, even now? We should lock her up!”

“You’re just jealous!” Feo said, evidently delighted to be able to take a shot at his twin. “Lock her up? She’s not exactly trying to escape, having walked in under our very noses!”

“You’re all idiots!” Shade stamped her foot. “I’m the only one who sees what she really is!”

“Oh, so we’re
all
idiots now, are we?” Nocturna shouted. “You insolent child!”

Jemma watched as they continued arguing and pacing, their arms flailing. Jagged, blood-red strands of energy emanated from them, becoming thick and entangled. The weasels took refuge under the front pew. Flora, Simon, and Tiny looked on, their expressions a mixture of fear and disbelief as the bizarre drama unfolded. The chaos couldn’t have worked better if Jemma had planned it. Now, if she could just get some decent food in the triplets’ bellies.…

“She hasn’t changed!” Shade shrieked. “She’s just putting on a damn fine show!”

“And you’re such a good judge, are you?” Nocturna wagged a red-nailed finger at Shade. The wide sleeve of her dress fell back to reveal her alabaster-white wrist. Shade grabbed it.

“Better than you, Mama!” she said, twisting Nocturna’s arm.

“Ow!” said Nocturna. “Unhand me, you fiendish child!”

“Caw!”
Rook, perched on Mordrake’s head, fluffed up his feathers, his jet eyes piercing Shade with malice.
“Caw caaaAAW!”

The triplets shrank back. But Nocturna’s precious bird had given Jemma an idea.

“Oh, poor Rook!” She walked toward Mordrake’s statue, kicking Simon—as gently as she dared—out of the way. “So brave, wanting to defend Mama! There now. Jemma’s here.” She reached up and held her wrist under Rook’s chin, spearing a thought into his dull brain:
You are in my power.…

Come to me.…
His eyes glazed, and he stepped onto her hand. She turned to face the family. “You don’t mind, do you, Mama?”

The four of them looked stunned. Nocturna yanked her arm away from Shade. “I … No …,” she said. “But … he’s never allowed anyone but me to touch him before.…”

“Well, we’re friends now, aren’t we, Rook?” Jemma kissed his beak, stroking his feathers as she walked across the room and placed him on Nocturna’s shoulder. He sat there, dazed.

“There, Shade!” cried Feo. “Jemma must be changed! Rook always hated her the most.”

“Anyone could hypnotize that squawking idiot!” Shade stamped her foot. “I want
proof
of these supposed Powers! Besides, why has she come back today of all days? It’s too much of a coincidence, with the Sacrifice tomorrow!”

“That is exactly why I returned now!” Jemma said, surprised by the force of her own words. “My dreams showed me what you were planning. We all know how important it is for you—for
us
—that the Ceremony goes well. But I also saw that you were in danger of failing. Yes, failing! So I hurried home to help, and when I went to check on these whelps in their cell”—she gestured at the triplets huddled at Mordrake’s feet—“I found to my horror that I was right to be afraid. You know how vital it is for the victims to be strong, and primed for the Ceremony—yet you’ve been starving them! How could you?” Her fury at the Agromonds’ abduction and treatment of the triplets came through full force. “To risk so much with such negligence!”

“But … I did not command this,” Nocturna said. “Who …?”

“If not you, Mama”—Jemma could almost taste victory—“then who indeed?”

“You … you …” Shade scowled daggers at Jemma.

“But it isn’t too late,” Jemma barreled on, “if we hasten, and feed the brats immediately. And we must keep them comfortable for as long as possible before tomorrow morning—”

“Indeed, let us do so, this instant!” said Nocturna. “Feo, ring for Drudge!”

“Yes, Mama.” Feo strode to the fireplace and yanked the tattered bell-pull hanging to the right of it. Hope flickered on the triplets’ faces.

Nocturna turned to Shade, her face red with fury. “Shade, you will pay dearly—”

“No, no, Mama, please!” said Jemma. “No recriminations. Don’t you agree, Shade?”

Shade screwed up her face in disgust. “I’ll show you!” she sneered, flames from the fire sharpening her eyes. “Waltzing in here like Madem’selle Muck! Well, if you’re so powerful, let’s see how you deal with this!” She flicked her right arm toward Jemma, and a bolt of pure blackness shot from her fingers. Jemma raised one hand instinctively, stopping the bolt, which fell to the ground. She felt as astounded as Shade looked.

“Good one, Jemma!” said Feo. “Parrying a Dromfell like that. Shade, you always think you’re the best, but Jemma’s got more in her little finger than you—”

“Shut up, Feo!” Shade slapped the back of his head, then minced up to Jemma, her Mark turning a deeper purple. “Dreams, fancies, stopping Dromfells … I need more than party tricks to convince
me
. I. Want.
Proof!
”

“All right, Shade, you asked for it,” Jemma blurted before she could stop herself. “I can read your mind!”

“Don’t talk such rubbish!” Shade grabbed the neck of Jemma’s shirt. “You accursed impostor. I’ll show you—”

“Shade!” Nox took three paces and grabbed Shade from behind. “You’ll choke her!”

“It’s all she deserves,” said Shade, writhing in her father’s grasp, “for all her lies!”

Jemma rubbed her throat, panic gripping her. Why in Majem’s name had she said she could read Shade’s mind? She’d never been able to do that! But suddenly a horrific image leapt into her head, and words were gathering in her mouth again. Words she didn’t want the triplets to hear, but which she couldn’t prevent from pouring out.

“If it’s such lies, Shade,” she said, “then why don’t you tell Mama and Papa about those bodies you’ve been hiding under your bed?”

Shade froze.

“What?” Nocturna cried. “What bodies?”

“A boy,” said Jemma, nauseated at the sight in her mind’s eye, “and a girl. Twins. Six years old. She rode Mephisto to get them, and practice on them. Just three weeks ago.”

“Is this true?” Nox snarled into Shade’s ear.

“What if it is?
You’ve
not killed any children since you took
her
.” Shade spat at Jemma. “Mord forbid you make a mess of the first Sacrifice in years. I had to practice, to be sure it would be done properly!”

“Properly?” Nocturna marched over and slapped Shade’s face. “Reckless girl! What have we always taught you? This kind of Sacrifice must be done with the correct rituals, the
force be honored, or it can turn horribly against us! I trust at least
one
of their souls went to Scagavay …? But I see from your expression that it did not. Oh, this is insufferable! And
you
talk of ‘properly’?”

Shade glared at Jemma and Nocturna, her eyes oozing hatred. Then all malice seemed to drain from her. She went limp in Nox’s grasp and burst into tears.

“Mama, you think Jemma’s better than I!” she wailed. “And Papa has always preferred her to
me
, his own flesh and blood! Mama, please, I’m sorry—I know I shouldn’t have killed those children.… I … just wanted you to be proud of me again! Oh, to think I used to be your pride and joy!” Shade wrenched free of Nox’s hold and threw herself at Nocturna’s feet. “Mama-a-a-a, forgive me,
ple-e-ease
! You don’t know how miserable I’ve been since falling from your favor!”

“I … well …” Nocturna looked taken aback. “Perhaps I did react harshly … but you must see, Shade, that you—we—cannot turn away this opportunity for more Power. Just give Jemma a chance, and we shall know tomorrow.…”

“Yes, yes, anything you say, Mama!” Shade clutched the skirt of Nocturna’s dress. “Oh, I’m so unhappy! I just want you to love me as much as you love her—”

“I do, I do. More!” Nocturna pulled Shade to her feet and stroked her hair awkwardly. “You’re my little Shadowkins! Hush, now. It will all come out right—”

“But what if it doesn’t, Mama?” Shade sobbed. “What if Jemma
is
lying? Surely, to be on the safe side, we should keep her locked up, just for tonight? If you
really
love me, you’ll do that for me, won’t you? Mord forbid she should try to steal something from us in the dead of night, as she did before!”
Shade grabbed the keys tied to her waist and rattled them at Jemma. “
These
, for instance.”

“Oh, Shade, Shade!” Nox sighed, looking weary. “You really are overreaching yourself.”

Overreaching yourself …
The phrase echoed in Jemma’s mind from the conversation she had overheard all those weeks ago. Nocturna, too, evidently remembered. She turned to Nox slowly, ire scudding across her face.

“I heard those very words from you before, Nox,” she said, “the night I voiced my suspicions about Marsh. And I was right, was I not? Jemma herself said so. But you let Marsh go, instead of killing her as I decreed. What if Shade is right?”

“But if she is wrong,” he retorted, “and Jemma has indeed returned in fealty to us?”

“Then I’m sure she won’t mind,” said Nocturna, turning her coal-hard eyes on Jemma, “spending this one night in the dungeons. Will you, my dear?”

Victory flashed through Shade’s tears.

Jemma felt the blood draining to her feet. Locked away, how would she be able to retrieve the keys, much less rescue the triplets? “I confess I’m disappointed in my sister’s mistrust of me,” she said, trying to prevent her voice from wavering, “but of course, if that is what you wish, Mama …”

“Go-o-o-od!” Nocturna’s face reconfigured into its habitual angular certitude.

Eight o’clock began tolling from the Bell Tower. The door creaked open and Drudge appeared.

“Ah, Drudge,” said Nox. He waved toward the triplets. “Take these three to the kitchen and feed them, if you will.”

“It would be best if it was something they like, Drudge,” added Jemma, affecting her brittlest tone of voice.

“And put them in a larger dunge—er, room,” Nocturna added, “with warm blankets, if you will. A little Slumber Potion in syrupwater will keep them relaxed and well-rested too.”

Flora, Simon, and Tiny cowered as Drudge shuffled toward them. Jemma’s heart was breaking for them. She hated the idea of them being drugged, but at least it would dull their terror. Besides, it would stretch her hand to protest. She hardened her face as they traipsed out of the room, Tiny casting
a forelorn glance at the fireplace for his lost bear. All that remained of it was the lone arm that Shade had ripped off, lying near the hearth.

Drudge herded the triplets out, and closed the door.

“Now that is taken care of,” said Nocturna, “let us repair to the Lush Chamber and hear of your adventures, Jemma. But first, we must get you out of those vile rags. We burned all your attire after you left, so you’ll have to wear something of Shade’s. Shade, your black-on-black stripe, I think. You’ve outgrown it, have you not? Feo, while Jemma is changing, go and tell Drudge to add extra pancreas to today’s luncheon stew—Jemma’s favorite, to honor her return.”

“Thank you, Mama,” Jemma said.

The rest of the morning dragged by. The family gathered around the fireplace in the Lush Chamber, Nocturna, Nox, and Feo entreating Jemma for stories of her adventures. Nocturna’s mother scowled down from her portrait above the mantel as a mix of truth and fiction flowed easily from Jemma’s mouth—Feo being especially delighted by her gory description of Marsh’s remains. Once out of the forest, still afraid that her family (“I mean, you,” she said) would be looking for her, she’d cut and dyed her hair. (Feo complimented her, telling her it made her look more fierce, “Though I’m glad it’s your normal color now,” he added.) Jemma was careful to mention the boy she’d been traveling with (“A common lad I met on the road. He had food, and seemed to like me”), knowing that Digby had been seen with her by the Widow Strickner and again on the road to Oakstead. This, Nox said, was indeed just as the Widow and two spies had reported—proof that Jemma wasn’t lying to them. Thankfully, none of
them realized that the boy with her had been Digby. For a moment, Jemma’s heart was in her mouth as she wondered whether word about the gang who had ambushed them had reached Nox, but he said nothing of it, and something told her they’d been too ashamed to boast of such a crushing failure.

All the while, Shade’s cast-off Mord-day dress clung uneasily to her, as though atoms of Shade still inhabited its fabric and were seeping into her skin. At least she still had Digby’s old boots on; all of Shade’s were too big for her, and wearing something of his was comforting. She’d also made sure to put Bethany’s golden coin in the dress pocket—luckily, it had buried itself deep in her trouser pocket, and was the one thing that hadn’t been ripped away by the river. She kept fingering it to remind her of her roots, but still, she couldn’t help feeling nervous.