Sisters' Fate (21 page)

I’m sitting on the bottom step of the staircase. “I’m glad you shot him first, then.”

Finn looks a bit frazzled—his shirt untucked at the back, coppery hair standing up even more than usual, lip swollen, and the knuckles of one hand bruised. “I’ve never shot an actual person before. An actual living human being.”

“He’ll be all right unless you hit an artery.” Mei doesn’t sound terribly concerned. “Then he might lose the arm.”

“I was aiming for his chest,” Finn admits.

“Do you think we’ve made any difference?” My voice is small as I tuck my arms around my knees. “The way they looked at us—they were
scared
of me.”

Finn sits next to me, lacing his fingers through mine. “You were magnificent.”

“I was scared silly,” I admit, uncurling myself.

“But you did it anyway. That’s what bravery is.” His thumb strokes the back of mine, and my breath catches. I bring his knuckles to my mouth and press a kiss to the middle one. At my touch, the bruises disappear, and the look he gives me—

It’s the way he used to look at me. Before.

“I don’t mean to interrupt the celebration, lovebirds, but I’ve got news,” Merriweather says, striding into the front hall.

Finn doesn’t let go of my hand. “What now?”

“I thought it strange there weren’t more guards at the hospital, fending off the mob, so I called on a source of mine. A footman for the Brothers. After the hanging, he heard Covington order most of the guards pulled from their patrols and sent to the river district.” The line of Merriweather’s broad shoulders is stiff; his usual elegant slouch is gone.

“Perhaps they’re worried about a riot, once more people find out about the cure,” Finn suggests.

I stare at the flickering light of the blue glass lamp. Something about this doesn’t make sense. “But it sounds like Covington gave the order
before
they saw our leaflets.”

“Turns out they’re setting up barricades all along Prince, Munroe, and Fifty-Seventh. Cordoning off the whole district.” Merriweather sketches three sides of a rectangle in the air. The river itself would make up the fourth.

Rilla pops out of the parlor. “Do you think they’re setting up a quarantine?” She hands me a cup of steaming tea.

“It’s a little late for that now. The fever’s all over the city,” Mei mumbles between the hairpins in her teeth. She’s twisting her hair up in a chignon in front of the silver mirror.

“Another of my sources, enterprising soul that he is, saw a caravan of army wagons pass the barricades and followed one. Knew I’d pay him for good information with good coin,” Merriweather says. “They stopped at a warehouse down by the port.”

“What were they carrying?” Finn asks.

Merriweather paces the hall, his boots echoing against the wooden floors. “Turpentine and kerosene, supposedly. Do you think they’re hiding the rest of the cure in the barrels?”

“No, if they were going to take it out of the hospital, they’d want it somewhere close at hand, near the city center.” Mei skewers pins through her black hair.

Rilla frowns, smoothing her yellow dress. “Dozens of people are dying every day. Shouldn’t the Brothers concern themselves with how to stop the fever? They haven’t even told people to take basic precautions.”

“I have. Stay inside if you can; cover your face and wash your hands if you can’t.”

“Boil your clothes,” I add, remembering how Mei boiled our dresses each night when we got home from the hospital. “Or burn them. During the influenza outbreak when I was little, my mother went out to nurse and came home and burnt her dress in the kitchen fireplace.”

Finn’s hand flexes, squeezing mine painfully. “Do you remember the Bowers? No, you would have been too young, probably—but their whole family came down with the flu. All the servants, too. They all died. Later, the Brothers sent guards in with barrels of kerosene and burnt the farmhouse to the ground. Said it was cursed with the contagion.”

“Do you suppose the Brothers intend to burn the dead? That could account for all the wagons,” Mei suggests.

Finn’s forehead rumples. “They wouldn’t need to set up a quarantine for that, or keep it a secret.”

“Good Lord.” I drop my teacup, and it shatters, shards flying across the wooden floor. The tea soaks my skirt and scalds my knees. I stare into Finn’s brown eyes, horrified. “What if it’s not the dead they’re after? What if the Brothers are going to burn the river district with the sick people in it?”

CHAPTER

19

“THE BROTHERS?” MEI ASKS. “OR INEZ?”

No one suggests that I’m wrong, or that she would be incapable of such cruelty.

Finn shoots to his feet, ignoring the crunch of broken china. “No one will suspect she’s behind it. If Covington’s ordered the guards to burn the river district, everyone will blame the Brothers. Between this and hoarding the cure, it could start a civil war.”

Merriweather stuffs his hands in the pockets of his olive peacoat. “But the Brothers will only claim Covington’s gone mad—that he came back wrong—and toss him out of office. She’ll lose control of the city.”

Rilla kneels to clean up the shards of china. “What kind of person tries to set a fire and barricade people inside?”

“The same kind who’d let dozens of innocent girls hang because it interfered with her plans.” I’m pacing around the hall, heedless of my wet skirts.

Mei slides on her black cloak. “We have to stop this.”

Merriweather runs a hand over his square jaw, thoughtful. “Can we enlist the guard?”

“We’re witches, and progressives,
and
fugitives!” Rilla gives him an exasperated look. “We can’t go strolling up to the master of the guard and expect him to believe Covington’s being compelled. Besides, even if they knew what was happening, are you sure the guards would try to stop it? You should hear the way they talk about river rats.”

I put up a hand to stop Merriweather’s rebuttal. He and Rilla would argue all day if we let them. “We can’t rely on the guards. For all we know, Inez has compelled them, too. We have to stop this ourselves.”

“How do you plan to do that?” Merriweather snaps. “The people wouldn’t believe us if we told them to evacuate on such flimsy evidence. And we don’t even know where to start in terms of stopping the fires. We could search all the warehouses, but that would take forever; there are dozens of them.”

Mei frowns. “I don’t know that we can stop the guards from setting fires if that’s what Inez has compelled them to do. But we can use magic to put them out.”

Finn pulls back the curtains and gazes out at the inky sky. It’s only half past five, but it’s December; the sun has already set, and wind sends the trees in the front yard whipping against the windows. “They’ll wait until people are in for the night. The fire will spread quicker if there are only a few night watchmen to see it.”

“The wind’s kicked up something fierce.” Mei pulls up her hood. “Fire in three or four warehouses could take down half the city on a night like this.”

Merriweather’s jaw goes tight. “Prue’s down there.” Alice, Prue, Sachi, and Rory took the rest of the medicine in Finn’s satchel and went to call on some families that Alice and I often visit on Sisterly missions of charity.

“My family’s not far from the river district, either.” Mei opens the front door and shivers against the sharp wind.

“Let’s hire a hack to take us there first.
They’ll
believe us,” Merriweather says.

Rilla blows out the lamp. “I’ll go to the convent and see if I can rouse more girls to help. Once those fires start, we’ll need all the magic we can muster.”

I’ve stopped stock-still in the process of putting on my own cloak. “Where is the Golden Hart?”

Merriweather sputters. “What do you know of the Golden Hart?”

“That’s where my father’s hiding.” I swallow. “It’s by the river, isn’t it?”

Merriweather nods. “Attracts all the sailors that way. Situated in a plum spot between a tavern and a—” His voice drops. “A cotton warehouse.”

Finn takes my hand again, sensing my distress. “I’ll see you safely to the convent and then I’ll go find your father.”

The notion of them both being at risk sets my stomach tumbling. I make a silent vow to myself: When this is over, Inez will never put anyone I love in danger ever again. I don’t care what I’ve got to do to ensure it.

• • •

The hack stops outside the convent and Rilla clambers down before the wheels have even stopped turning. Finn tugs on my wrist, pulling me down for a quick, hard kiss. Behind his spectacles, his brown eyes are worried. “Be careful, Cate.”

“You too.” I want to ask him to wait, not to go down to the river without me, but I can’t tie him to my apron strings. He may not have my strength, but he has his own. He is still my clever, resourceful Finn. “I’m sorry I’ve gotten you mixed up in all of this.”

“Don’t be.” He shakes his head. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be able to help change things. I’m making a difference, Cate. That’s worth a lot.”

I hesitate, but I have to say it. Just in case. I brush a hand over his stubbled cheek. “I love you.”

I step down to the carriage block without waiting for an answer. He can’t say it back. He doesn’t mean it. Not yet. Three weeks ago I didn’t think anything could be worse, and now—

Well, things can always get worse, can’t they?

As I step onto the sidewalk, I give a laugh as bitter as any of Rory’s.

There are two lonely guards patrolling the marble steps of the Sisterhood. They raise their rifles as I sweep toward them with eyes narrowed. “Go away, and don’t come back here tonight,” I snap as Finn’s carriage rolls away.

They turn, ambling down the street obediently. Rilla is already pushing the front door open. She rushes down the hall toward the sitting room, which should be chock-full of girls studying and chatting before supper.

“Where’s Inez?” Rilla demands.

“Lord knows. Not here,” Vi says. “Have you been to see Cate? How is she?”

“I’m here.” My entrance is received with both glares and cheers.

“What are you doing here? Haven’t you made enough trouble already?” Parvati seems to have taken possession of Alice’s queen-bee spot on the pink love seat.

“Oh, I’m only starting to make trouble,” I declare, pulling off my hood.

Tess rushes at me, throwing her arms around my waist, burying her face in my hair. I pull back and look at her: really look. We’ve only been apart for two days, but it seems forever, and I see her with new eyes. She’s grown thinner. Her new curves and the rosy flush of her cheeks are both gone; there are purple shadows beneath her eyes. Even her blond curls seem lifeless. My baby sister looks
haunted.

“I heard about the vision you had,” I tell her. Tess shrinks away. “The one about fire and death. It wasn’t a nightmare; it was a prophecy. Inez is going to try to burn the river district.”

Maura stands, resplendent in an ivory gown embroidered with green leaves. “That’s nonsense.”

“They set up a quarantine this afternoon, and guards were seen carrying turpentine and kerosene into warehouses down by the river. She’s the one giving orders, isn’t she?” I search Maura’s face, but she looks genuinely shocked by this turn of events. “She’s going to make it look like the Brothers murdered the people in their beds to prevent the fever from spreading.”

Whispers hum and buzz through the room.

“She’ll kill thousands of people.” Tess is trembling, pressing a hand to her temples. “I thought it was just a nightmare. I should know the difference by now.”

Lucy is sitting on an ottoman at her sister’s feet. “It’s not your fault.” Grace’s knitting needles never pause.

“I should know the difference,” Tess repeats, her voice anguished. “I should have been able to warn everyone. I—I just haven’t been feeling
myself
lately.”

“This is going too far, even for Inez.” Maura’s blue eyes dart around the room, searching out allies, but no one else speaks. It is telling, I think, that not a single other person—not any of the teachers leaning in the doorway, not even old Sister Evelyn—leaps to Inez’s defense. “It’s got to be something else.”

“She’s ruthless, Maura. It’s past time you admitted it.” Elena wraps an arm around Maura’s waist to soften her words.

“We need to get down there. We might be too late to stop the fires from being set, but we can help keep them from spreading.” Rilla’s voice is crisp, without her usual bounciness. “Alice and Mei and Sachi and Rory have already gone.”

“I’ll tell Father to get the horses ready,” Vi says, scrambling from the room.

“We’ll have to work in teams of two or three.” Elena smooths her pink silk dress. “That area isn’t safe for girls alone at night.”

“Safe?” Genie echoes. “You’re asking us to do magic in public. We’ll all be arrested. Or murdered!”

“I don’t think so. I think the people—especially the working-class people who live down by the river—are sick of the Brothers. It’s a risk, certainly.” I lift my chin. “I’m willing to take it. We’re powerful. It’s time we stopped hiding it.”

“Hear, hear!” A grin spreads over Elena’s face as she turns to Maura. “Be on my team?”

Maura pulls away, scowling. “No. I’m going to the council building, and I’m going to get the truth of it from Inez. She wouldn’t do this. I know she wouldn’t.”

My stomach sinks as Maura stalks out of the room, but I don’t go after her. Neither does Elena. “What about you, Parvati? Are you coming?” I ask.

Parvati rises from the love seat, her brown eyes enormous in her thin face. “My grandmother lives down there. It’s one thing to target the Brothers, but if Inez is the sort of person who would burn an old woman alive . . .” She swallows hard. “Well, then I was wrong about her.”

All around me, girls are stepping into their boots or rushing to fetch them. I look for Tess, to tell her Finn has gone to warn Father, and I realize she’s gone. Out in the hall, Sister Gretchen is organizing the teachers and governesses into teams to lead the younger students. Unlike the Harwood mission, there’s no talk of leaving anyone behind. Tonight, we will need the full might of the Sisterhood.

I peer into the front hall, where girls are pulling on their cloaks. No Tess. Perhaps she went upstairs for her mittens? I hope she hasn’t gone chasing after Maura.

Pausing near the parlor, I hear a tiny, strangled sob from within.

It’s not Tess, but I go in, closing the door behind me. “Lucy? Are you all right?”

Lucy raises her blotchy, tearstained face. “No. I’m a terrible wicked girl, Cate.”

I haven’t time for this, but I can’t walk away from a crying child.

I perch next to her on the olive settee. “Are you scared? You and Bekah can go with Sister Gretchen or one of the other teachers. They won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Lucy lets out another wail. “S-stop being so nice to me. I don’t deserve it!”

I stifle my impatience. “Lucy, it’s perfectly all right to be frightened.” I remember Finn’s words from earlier. “Being brave is when you’re frightened but you do something anyway, because it’s the right thing to do.”

She wipes her nose on her sleeve. She is all brown today—a chocolate wool dress and big brown bows tying her caramel braids—like a plump little sparrow. “I’ve got to tell you the truth, then. Even though it will make you hate me,” she says, meeting my eyes. “I’m the one who’s been haunting Tess.”

I go very still. My hand—just inches from Lucy’s knee—freezes. “Explain.”

Her eyes fall to the brown carpet. “I cast illusions to make her see and hear things that weren’t there. Cyclops hanging from the curtain rod in her room. Her bed on fire. Blood on her dress. The funeral dirge. The—the kitten.”

She sniffles, wiping away fresh tears, but all my sympathy has vanished. “Why?” My hand has clenched into a fist.

Lucy is only twelve, I remind myself.

But so is Tess.

Tess, who’s been terrified that her worst fears were coming true.

“Why would you do that?” I demand.

“Inez said if I didn’t, she’d turn Grace over to the Brothers and they’d hang her,” Lucy whispers. “I—I couldn’t let that happen. I’m sorry, Cate! I never wanted to hurt you, or Tess.”

My anger hardens into something bright and icy. So much for Inez’s oath to Maura that she would never hurt Tess.

“Why those
particular
illusions?” My voice is a little softer. Only a little.

Lucy fidgets. I reach out and snatch her chin, wet with tears, and turn her face toward me. My fingers are not gentle. She chokes on another sob. “Tess had a vision!” she blurts out. “About you. She had a vision that she was going to—to hurt you.”

The realization slams into me, knocking the breath from my body. Like being run down by a carriage.

“Tess had a vision that she was going to kill me.”

My voice is dull, but I feel almost relieved.

I don’t want to die. There are loads of things I want to do first. Small things, like planting roses, or seeing the finished gazebo on the hill near Mother’s grave, or beating Mei at a game of chess. Big things, like hearing Finn say he loves me again, and marrying him, and having a house of our own. Becoming a mother. Practicing magic openly. Seeing Tess and Maura grow up into beautiful, clever, strong women.

Only—we can’t all three grow up, can we?

Not according to the prophecy.

Perhaps it’s good to finally know the truth of it.

“Yes,” Lucy says softly. “It broke her heart. She couldn’t understand how she would ever do it, unless—”

“Unless she was mad.” I take a deep breath. “And you told Inez, and she decided to use that against Tess. To make her think her worst fears were coming true. You’re her best friend, Lucy! She trusted you with her greatest secret.”

“I know.” Lucy begins to cry again. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not me you need to apologize to.” I stand. “Do you know where she is?”

“Sh-she went to the bell tower, to ring the fire alarm.” Lucy buries her face in her dimpled hands.

The bell tower is atop the National Council building—where every guard has no doubt been ordered to memorize our pictures and arrest us on sight. I pray Tess has the sense to use a glamour.

“Why would she do that?” I demand. “Why would she go by herself?”

“B-because I told her to,” Lucy admits, her words muffled by her hands. “Sh-she felt like it was all her fault. I said she could help make it right.”

I grab her by the shoulders and shake her. “Inez asked you to do that, too, didn’t she? Why?” I let her go and back away before I’m tempted to shake the answers right out of her.

“I don’t know!” Lucy yelps. She’s stopped crying, but she looks terrified of me. “Inez said—she said this was the last thing she’d ask me to do. She promised!”