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“It was very merry for a while,” Ann says sadly.
We step quickly and quietly through the blue-tinged forest. The branches seem to be plucked of almost every berry, and what is left hangs in mealy clumps, forgotten. Maggots eat their way through the abandoned fruit. It makes my stomach turn.
Whoo-oot. Whoo-oot.
“What was that?” Miss McCleethy gasps.
“Don’t move,” I whisper.
We stay as still as statues. The call comes again.
Whoo-oot. Whoo-oot.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” Pip’s voice.
She steps out from behind a tree and is quickly flanked by Bessie, Mae, Mercy, and others I’ve not seen before. They fan around her like soldiers, carrying torches. It’s as if every bit of breath has been knocked from me. I’m forced to keep my hands behind my back, out of sight, to hide their trembling. She has marked her face in the blue-black juice of the berries. The others wear similar markings that give their faces a skeletal appearance.
In the firelight, Pip’s eyes change from one state to the other, from violet to white, inviting to terrifying. “Hello, Gemma. What brings you here?”
“I—I was looking for Fee,” I say.
She frowns playfully. “You’ve lost her, have you? Tsk-tsk, Gemma. How careless. Well, I suppose you’ll have to come have a look inside, then. Follow me.”
Pippa takes us to her castle like a conquering queen. She’s still lovely. She has the magic working for her, but she has not shared much of it with her disciples from what I can see. They ride behind her, tattered and torn, their skin going gray and ruined.
“Bessie,” I start, and she gives me a sharp shove.
“Keep movin’.”
The castle is as neglected as the forest. The vines crawl up the walls unhindered and drape across balustrades, hanging down in claws of green. Snakes thread through their mossy abundance.
“Where’s Felicity?” I ask again.
“Patience, patience.” Pippa hums while lining up goblets of berries along the altar.
Bessie sneers as she appraises Miss McCleethy. “’Oo’s she? Yer mum?”
“I am Miss McCleethy, a teacher at Spence Academy,” McCleethy answers.
Pip claps, giggling. “Miss McCleethy. You’re the one giving Gemma such trouble. You shall not give me any trouble at all.”
“I shall give you a great deal of trouble if you do not tell us where to find Miss Worthington at once,” Miss McCleethy insists.
“Don’t,” I warn.
“She needs a firm hand,” she whispers.
“She’s beyond that now,” Ann urges quietly.
“Shush!” Pippa says. “This is my castle. I am queen here. I make the rules.”
Mae reaches for a cluster of berries and Pippa shakes her head. “Mae, you know that is for the ritual. They must be consecrated first.”
“Yes, miss.” Mae smiles, seemingly happy to have been upbraided by her god.
“Felicity!” I shout. “Fee!”
The castle’s walls creak and groan as if they shall fall in on us. A vine tightens across my boot and I yank my foot free.
