Whisper of Souls: A Prophecy of the Sisters Novella (8 page)

BOOK: Whisper of Souls: A Prophecy of the Sisters Novella
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A sputter erupted from his mouth and she froze, her hands still on the blanket, now pulled up to his chest. The cry grew louder and more urgent.

“Shhhhhh,” she said softly, patting his stomach.

Her ministrations did no good. He continued to cry, his face scrunched up, tiny tears leaking from his eyes. Lifting him from the cradle was instinctual.

She picked him up with the blanket, holding him close to her chest as she paced the floor. She had held Lia and Alice just this way when they cried. Now she bounced Henry ever so slightly and was relieved when he became silent.

“There, there, little one,” she whispered. “Everything will be all right, you’ll see.”

She lowered herself to the rocking chair by the fire, settling Henry in the crook of her arm. He gazed up at her, and for a moment, she thought that he understood everything. That he knew exactly why she was here, and why it had taken her so long to come. That he forgave her.

She rocked slowly back and forth, letting her fingers trace his tiny features. Thomas’s nose, the eyes that came from her side of the family. Eyes that always began as blue and later turned green. Lia and Alice’s eyes.

She lifted him to her chest, lowering her face to the silky thatch of dark hair. She inhaled, breathing in the scent of him. Tears fell from her cheeks as she whispered, “I’m sorry, Henry. I’m so, so sorry.”

She didn’t know how long she rocked him, but the fire had dimmed by the time he was asleep in her arms. She looked down at his serene face and wished him this kind of peace all his life through.

Then she carried him to the cradle and set him gently inside, careful to cover him with the blanket.

 

She hardly registered the bite of cold air against her skin even though she had not bothered with a cloak. The moon was full and heavy, the sky a deep indigo, almost like that of the Otherworlds. She put one foot in front of the other, focusing on the task at hand. She pictured her family sleeping peacefully within the walls of Birchwood Manor. It gave her comfort, for though there would be dark days ahead, her decision would keep them safe for a time, and she felt sure that whatever the future held, her daughters would be stronger than her.

 She came to the top of the cliffs, the sky opening its arms to her all at once. It was brighter at the top, and she turned in a circle, taking it in.

She had spent many hours in this spot, her memories going all the way back to her own mother and the many hours they had spent walking the grounds and gazing out over the lake from above.

A gust of wind whipped her nightdress. Whispered voices traveled to her on its breeze. She heard them, even in this world. They whispered urgently, coaxing her back to the warmth of her bed, to the Otherworlds, where Samael and his Souls would keep her locked away forever.

It was easy to ignore them here, with the wind lifting her hair, the cold air hitting her face. She saw things with a clarity that had been lost to her for a very long time.

There was no going back, and she stepped toward the edge of the cliff.

The wind was more powerful on the precipice. She closed her eyes, letting it blow her hair around her face. In the darkness of her imagination, she saw Lia and Alice come to the cliffs together, sharing secrets on the big boulder as she and Ginny had done. She saw her daughters in summer, swimming in the lake below, riding the horses to its shores and trying to skip stones with Thomas’s gentle instruction. It would be a peaceful existence, at least for a while.

It was all she could give them.

The whispers rose around her, angry and urgent. They berated her, told her not to be foolish, that her children would suffer without her presence, that Samael would leave them alone if only Adelaide would give herself over to him.

All lies designed to get her to the Otherworlds, where they would trap her, waiting for her daughters to grow older and then subjecting them to the same horrors to which she had been subjected.

No. At least this way she could help them from the other side. At least this way she would see them again one day.

The promise of it gave her a final burst of certainty. She inched forward, teetering on the edge of the cliff, rocks spilling over the side. She waited a moment, just a moment, holding the faces of her daughters, her beautiful son, in her mind’s eye.

Then she raised her arms and fell. It was not a drop into the abyss, as she had expected, but a fall into the arms of peace.

At last
, she thought.
At last.

There was only silence.

Michelle Zink lives in New York with her four children.
Prophecy of the Sisters
was her first novel, and was chosen as one of
Booklist
’s Top Ten Debut Novels of 2009 and as one of the Chicago Public Library’s Best Books for Young Readers. It has also been listed on the New York Public Library’s Stuff for the Teen Age and the Lone Star Reading List.

Prophecy of the Sisters Series:

Prophecy of the Sisters

Guardian of the Gate

Circle of Fire

 

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Copyright © 2012 by Michelle Zink
Cover design by Alison Impey. Cover copyright © 2012 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.

Cover photography © Galyna Andrushko / Shutterstock

Cover illustration by Leah Palmer Preiss

All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at
[email protected]
. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

Little, Brown and Company

Hachette Book Group
237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017
www.hachettebookgroup.com

First e-book edition: June 2012

The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

ISBN 978-0-316-22766-7

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