Diary of Anna the Girl Witch 1: Foundling Witch (7 page)

“What’s that?” I asked, pointing at the building.

Even in the dim light, I could see Gaëlle go pale.

“I don’t know,” she stammered. “André doesn’t let us go into the maze. He says it’s too easy to get lost. Come on, let’s go inside. I’m cold.”

She turned toward the doors, but I stopped her.

“Gaëlle, you know I’m your friend, right? You can tell me anything.”

She looked me straight in the eye. She was scared; I could see it. But she turned away again and said, “Of course, everything’s fine.”

Back in her room, we found Beatrice dressed as a fairy princess. Over her dress, she’d added a frilly pink skirt, and on her head, she wore a tall cone hat with a trailing veil.

“Can I wear this to the party?” she asked. Gaëlle smiled, the first real smile I’d seen from her in weeks.

“Of course,” she said. “Why don’t we go get some ice cream sundaes?”

“Yes!” Beatrice cried out.

Back in the hallway, I heard voices coming from the far end near the stairs. André’s thunderous laugh was unmistakable.

“Let me show you where our family lives,” he was saying. “This wing is entirely devoted to our daughters. You can see we take our responsibilities as new parents extremely seriously.” He must have been bringing guests on a tour.

“Let’s go this way,” Gaëlle said quickly.

But before she could open the door across the hall, André found us. “Ah! My darling daughter Gaëlle, with her little friends.” He beamed as if we were a treasure he had found.

Three people walked with him: A man and woman dressed in expensive clothes and a third man who stood apart from the others. The couple seemed enthralled by the opulence of the house. The woman kept touching everything – the walls, the moldings around the door, the side table and lamp – with the tips of her gloved hand as if checking for dirt. But it was the third man who caught my attention. He was tall, with long black hair that he wore in a neat ponytail. Like the others, he was dressed in fine clothes, but they were all black, from his suit to his shirt to his tie. The reason he startled me, though, was that he gazed at me with dark, deep-set eyes. A small smile twitched his lips.

“And who are her lovely friends?” the man asked. I was struck by his accent. It was so much like Uncle Misha’s that he had to be Russian.

Beatrice curtsied like a real princess and said, “My name is Beatrice. I’m a fairy princess.”

“Oh, isn’t she cute!” the woman said, squeezing Beatrice’s cheeks. “I want a little girl just like that one.” Her husband beamed and nodded.

The dark-eyed man didn’t even glance at Beatrice.

“And your name?” he asked me.

“Anna Sophia, sir.” I didn’t curtsy. His gaze made me uncomfortable.

“You look just like another Anna that I once knew,” he said. His words confused me. Was that a compliment?

“Thank you, sir,” I mumbled.

“I… uh… thought they might like to see the kitchens,” Gaëlle said. “We were going down for sundaes.”

“Of course, of course!” said André. “You girls need some fattening up. You’re all as thin as rakes.” André steered his friends back the way they had come.

The man in black watched me over his shoulder as they walked away. A shiver ran down my spine as if his gaze had blasted me with coldness.

Gaëlle opened the door across the hall. Instead of another bedroom, it opened into a stairwell. Beatrice happily hopped down the stairs, but I took them slowly. Who was that strange man with the Russian accent? Why did he seem so interested in me?

The kitchen was bustling with activity. At least three cooks were setting desserts on trays to take out to the guests.

“Is it okay if we have ice cream?” Gaëlle asked one of the cooks.

He nodded and waved her away as if she were a bother. Gaëlle opened a stainless steel door. The freezer was bigger than my bedroom! She took out several flavors of ice cream and dumped them on the counter. From a tall cabinet, she took bowls, chocolate sauce, and candy sprinkles.

“I used to spend a lot of time in the kitchen when I first came to live here,” Gaëlle said with a small smile. “I like how the cooks are always moving. They never rest. They used to let me stir the soup sometimes.”

“But now?” I asked.

“Now… I’m just really busy with other things.”

I didn’t ask what those other things were. Gaëlle would tell me when she was ready, I hoped.

After we had gobbled the ice cream, Beatrice wanted to play carnival games again.

“Why don’t you take her there,” I said to Gaëlle. “I need to find the bathroom; then I’ll join you.”

“Sure,” Gaëlle said. “It’s right through that door.”

I followed the hall that she pointed to. It was dark, with only one dim light on the ceiling. I suspected that guests weren’t usually allowed back there. I didn’t really need to use the bathroom; I wanted to snoop. Something odd was going on at Irvigne Manor, and I intended to find out what it was.

At the end of the hall, another staircase led down. With a backward glance at the kitchen to be sure that no one was watching me, I headed down the narrow stairs. They emerged on the first floor by a servants’ entrance. The only light came from the moon shining through a small window. I could hear music and laughter from the party, but they seemed very far away.

Suddenly, my dream stone grew hot – so hot, it felt like it was burning my skin. I yanked the stone out from under my shirt. Holding its leather thong, I let it dangle. It spun clockwise until the thong strained; then it spun back the other way. Back and forth, it turned like that; then it stopped. The moon shone right through the stone’s hole onto the keyhole of a door across the hall from the stairs.

Weird.

By now, I had seen enough weirdness not to dismiss it as a coincidence. Obviously, my dream stone wanted me to open the door. I wished I had brought Squire with me, but he was up in Gaëlle’s room. I’d have to face whatever was behind that door alone.

The dream stone wasn’t hot anymore – now it was cold as ice. I dropped it back under my shirt and shivered as it touched my skin. The door wasn’t locked, but it was heavy. I could only open it a crack. Stone steps led down into blackness. Damp, cold air blew up the stairs. It stank of rot, like garbage, rotten food, and decay. A low wail from below sent chills up my arms. I couldn’t tell if it was the scream of a human or an animal.

I suddenly felt sick enough to throw up. I jerked back from the door. The dark hallway spun around me. I held my stomach, gagging.

I needed fresh air now!

I stumbled toward the glass door, threw open the latch, and ran outside. The door slammed shut behind me, probably locking me out, but I didn’t care. Crawling toward the bushes at the edge of the patio, I held my stomach and sucked in deep breaths of fresh air. Slowly, I started to feel better.

What on earth could be in that basement? It smelled like death. Was it linked to Gaëlle’s odd behavior? Were André and Marie keeping some kind of demon or monster down there? That could be the source of the black shadow I’d seen.

With shaking hands, I lifted the dream stone up and peered through the hole again.

There it was. Blackness oozed around the house like oily fog. I dropped the stone and pressed my hands to my eyes. Just looking at it made me feel sick and dirty.

As much as the shadow had disgusted me and peering into that basement had terrified me, I knew I’d have to go back and investigate. It was as if the dream stone were urging me on.

I steeled my resolve to return just as the back door flung open. André and another man came out onto the patio. I scooted into the shadows of the bushes, certain that they wouldn’t be happy to find me lurking about the servants’ entrance.

“You have nothing to worry about,” said André without his usual bluster. He sounded impatient and even a little worried. “Everything’s going according to plan. You’ll have all nine, just as I promised.”

All nine?
I wondered.
Nine what?

The other man didn’t speak for a moment. His back was to me. He had a long black ponytail. It was the man in black from upstairs.

“I’m not concerned about quantity,” the man said in his Russian accent. “It’s the quality of your prisoners that concerns me.”

Prisoners?
I sucked in a breath, and pressed myself into the shadows. Now I was sure that being seen was a bad idea.

The two men descended the stairs and walked through the garden.

I followed them even though I knew how dangerous that was. My heart pounded in my chest, telling me to turn back and run away. But my feet kept moving forward, following the men through the garden toward the hedge maze. The two of them disappeared through a crack in the hedge, and I hesitated.

I’d seen the labyrinth from above. If I wandered too deeply into it, I would never find my way out. Or even worse, I could stumble right into André and that creepy man.

Their footsteps echoed through the hedge. They were getting away. Without further hesitation, I dashed into the labyrinth.

At first, the path was easy to follow. The hedges were neatly trimmed, and the cobblestoned path was swept clear of leaves and stones. I turned the first corner and hurried around the next. There were no choices to make. I just followed the path wherever it led until I came to a crossroads. Here, I had to make a choice: right, left, or straight ahead. The men’s footsteps seemed to come from all sides. Then I heard André’s booming laugh straight ahead. I continued that way, following their voices and hurrying along the path, until I almost blundered right into them.

I stopped and crouched low behind the last turn in the hedge. André and his friend were standing in front of a small stone building.

This must be the gazebo I saw from Gaëlle’s window,
I thought. The building had no windows and only one iron door, which André now opened with an old-fashioned skeleton key. He paused with the door partially open. In the blackness beyond the door, I sensed the same despair as I’d felt coming out of the basement in the house. My stomach clenched again, and I almost didn’t pay attention to André’s next words.

“We’ve asked her to join our little family,” said André. “I can’t force her into adoption. She has some kind of trust fund that protects her.”

“Well, then find another way,” the dark man said. “I want her as part of the Nine.”

“Yes, of course,” said André. “Whatever you want.”

My stomach went cold. Were they talking about me? How many times had I refused André and Marie? At least three. My legs started to shake, and I fell heavily into the bushes.

“What was that?” the dark man said, alarmed. “Did you hear something?”

I ran.

My feet skidded around the first turn in the hedge. Footsteps thundered behind me. I couldn’t remember every path I’d taken to reach the gazebo. I rushed around turns blindly, just trying to put as much space as possible between those men and me.

I had no time to think of anything else. Around a corner, then around another corner I ran. Branches clawed at my clothes. Then I stubbed my toe on a stone and fell.

“Oomph!” The air whooshed out of my lungs. Several precious moments passed while I tried to get air back into them. The footsteps were quiet; then I heard, “This way!”

The chase was on again!

I blundered around corners, having no idea where I was, gasping for air. Tears streamed down my face, blurring my eyes so that I didn’t even see a brick wall until I ran straight into it – and straight through it!

My bones felt like pudding. Darkness pulled at me, and I couldn’t breathe. But before I could surrender to blind panic, I burst through the brick wall into the cool night air.

I fell to the ground – soft, grassy ground – and looked around. I was outside the labyrinth, on the edge of a clearing. I could see the torn-up grass where our balloon had crashed. From the other side of the wall, I heard André and his friend calling to each other.