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They half drag Miss McCleethy to the altar and tie her hands behind her back. Her lips bleed, and I see fear in her eyes, the dawning realization that she has sorely misjudged these girls.
“Will we suffer unbelievers?” Pip calls.
The girls answer with a clamor of nos. In their faces, I see such hate. It chills me to the bone. They no longer see us as human; we are the other, the threat that must be killed.
Pippa turns to Miss McCleethy with a sigh. “I’m afraid there is only one punishment for those who will not follow us.”
Bessie produces a shining sword. Its edge gleams in the light. The girls whoop and screech. Their primitive cries make a deafening clamor. Miss McCleethy struggles.
“No!” she shouts, kicking and trying to get away. But Mae and Mercy hold her fast, forcing her over the altar so that her head hangs free. My heart hammers against my ribs.
“Pippa, what are you doing?” I say, running for her.
Pippa blows me back with the force of her magic. Caught off guard, I fall to the floor in pain. The girls push Miss McCleethy’s head forward and expose the flesh of her neck.
“No!” I stagger to my feet, and before I can call the magic, Pippa unleashes hers. This time, I clatter to the ground like a toy. Miss McCleethy closes her eyes tightly; her mouth is set in a determined line. The blade is raised.
“Protect the mag—” she shouts just as the sword comes down with lightning swiftness.
Beside me, Ann screams and screams, her desperate shrieks blending into the crowd’s exultant shouts until it is impossible to tell where one leaves off and the other begins. I feel as if I shall vomit. My breath is ragged and tears prick my eyes. Ann sits perfectly still and stops screaming, shocked into total silence.
With a syrupy sigh, the vines wriggle forward and claim the headless body of Miss McCleethy. The girls kneel, hands clasped as if in prayer. Pippa stands before them, behind the altar. She raises a chalice over her head and brings it down again, mumbling words I cannot hear. She pulls a fat berry from the cup and places it gently into the waiting palms of Bessie. Slowly and solemnly she moves down the line, handing out a berry to each girl bowed before her.
“Who is the way?” she bellows.
“Mistress Pippa!” they respond in unison. “She is the chosen one.”
“What is our task?”
“To eat the berries and stay in paradise.”
“Amen,” she says.
As one, the girls bring the berries to their mouths. They gobble them up.
Pip turns to us with her arms spread, her mouth open in a delirious smile. “I am sorry about your teacher, but she wouldn’t have been able to join with us. But I have faith in you. After all, you’ve come back. But you must be as we are, my darlings. Those who would follow me must eat the berries.”
I find my voice at last. “Pip, please listen. The Winterlands creatures mean to take over the realms. If you kill me, I cannot fight them.”
Bessie takes the steps to the tower and returns with a struggling Felicity, who kicks and screeches. She attempts to take a bite of Bessie, and Bessie hits her hard.
“Oh, Fee! You’re here. That’s jolly,” Pippa says as Fee looks at her in horror.
Pippa saunters over to us and places berries in our hands. She gives Ann a kiss on the forehead. “Ann, darling, why do you shake so? Are you cold?”
“Y-yes,” Ann whispers. Her lips tremble with sheer terror. “Cold.”
“Do you believe, darling? Do you believe that I am the chosen one?”
“Yes.” Ann nods, sobbing.
“And will you eat the berries? Will you accept my grace?”
“If you were truly the chosen one, you would not need to intimidate your believers,” I say. If I am to die, I will not go without a voice.
Pippa strokes my hair. “You’ve never liked me much, Gemma. I think you are jealous.”
“You may think what you like. We are in danger. All of us. The Winterlands creatures mean to rule the realms. They have already killed many of the tribes. They ride without mercy, taking the souls of those who will not join them.”
