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“I’ve failed him. I’ve failed—”
He brushes past me and breaks into a run.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
I’M TREMBLING AS I RETURN TO THE MASKED BALL. A MAN in a Harlequin mask brushes past, startling me.
“Terribly sorry,” he says, giving me a smile that seems demonic beneath that hideous mask.
I slip back into the ballroom, where the girls perform their recital. I see Felicity sitting with Ann in her Lady Macbeth costume. “I must speak with you both at once,” I whisper, and they hurry after me to the library. Ann flips idly through a halfpenny paper: Mabel: A Girl of Newbury School. I’ve no doubt it follows the same story as all the others: A poor but decent girl is subjected to the cruel taunts of her school chums, only to be saved by a rich relative. And then all the petty schoolgirls are right sorry they’ve teased her so. But Mabel (or Annabelle or Dorothy—they are all the same) forgives them sweetly, never thinking a bad thought about anyone, and everyone has learned a valuable lesson in the end.
I should like to throw that rubbish on the fire.
“All right, Gemma. Out with it,” Felicity commands. “We’re missing the party.”
“The Winterlands creatures are not dying out. They have an army, thousands strong,” I say, words tumbling out of me as from a patient at Bedlam. “They’ve been sacrificing souls to the tree to gather their power, but they’re waiting for something. For someone.” I take a breath. “I believe it’s Circe.”
“Now you believe it,” Felicity says.
I ignore her jab. “We must go into the realms, return the dagger to Eugenia, and make the alliance—”
“You mean give back the magic?” Ann asks.
“It isn’t ours. It’s only borrowed—”
Felicity interrupts. “But what about Pip? We must tell her!”
“Fee,” I start, “we can’t. If she is one of them—”
“She’s not! You just said it was Circe.” Felicity’s eyes narrow. “How did you come to know this, Gemma?”
Too late I realize my folly. “I went into the realms. To see.”
“Alone?” Felicity presses.
“No. With Kartik.”
Ann glares at me. “You took him in without telling us?”
“I needed to show him—”
“The realms belong to us, not him!” Felicity insists. “Only yesterday you said we shouldn’t go into the realms without one another. Now you’ve done it!”
“Yes, and I’m sorry, but this was another matter,” I argue, though even I can hear how weak it is.
“You lied!” Felicity shouts.
“Listen to me, please! Will you listen to me for one moment? I’ve asked Gorgon to gather the Hajin and the forest folk at the Temple so that we might share the magic with them. We must go tonight. Don’t you see?”
“I see that you don’t care what your friends think. What they want.” In her costume, Felicity is every bit the warrior maiden. Her eyes sparkle with hurt. “Pip warned me this might happen.”
“What do you mean? What did she say?” I ask.
“Why should I tell you? Perhaps you can ask Kartik. You share more confidences with him than you do with your friends.”
“I’m here with you now, aren’t I?” I say, my anger sparking.
“She said you wouldn’t like sharing the magic. That you never meant to, not the way she would,” Felicity says.
