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“Caleb thinks that what’s happening to me is because of the night at the folly,” I told her as we walked along the path by the water.
She gave me a startled look. “You told him about that?” I shrugged. She was quiet for a minute, watching her steps. “It got out of hand,” she admitted.
“It wasn’t that bad,” I said, lying through my teeth. I’d felt like my whole self was coming apart at the seams, but I’d do it again to make her look at me like she was now, head tilted toward me, the light igniting the strands of her dark hair with streaks of deep red.
“Do you think it’s why you’re sick?” she asked.
“That’s when it started,” I said. “When I woke up the next morning, I thought I just had a hangover, but...”
“But it never went away. And you didn’t even have that much to drink,” Bryony said, and fell silent for a thoughtful moment. A sparrow burst by with a flutter of wings, dipping over the lake before vanishing into the distance. “What did your uncle tell you?”
“Not much. I think he knows even less than we do,” I said. She made a noise at the back of her throat, like that was hard to believe. “He doesn’t have the journal. And Grandpa Leopold never told him about the Other, growing up.”
“For all you know, he’s the one that poisoned Leopold,” Bryony said.
“He’s not like that. He’s kind,” I told her. She didn’t answer. “Desmond translated more of the journal,” I said, like a peace offering. She perked with interest at that, and I described what we’d discovered.
“ ‘A procedure to divide the c,’ ” she said. “I can already tell I’m not going to like it.”
“I don’t like any of it,” I said. “I keep thinking about those missing girls. Something is happening to them. Someone or something is hurting them.”
“Who, though? I know you like Caleb, but—”
“He wouldn’t hurt his own daughter. Was he even here when she died?”
She pursed her lips, brow furrowed. “On the grounds? I don’t think so. The only Vaughans around were Iris, Leopold, and Eli,as far as I know.” Bryony said. “If someone did something to Jessamine, it would have to be one of those three. Do you think they’re capable?”
I didn’t want to think about the answer. “Do you remember what Desmond said? He went out at night when he was a kid, and he saw a little girl being taken into the woods. That would have been around the time that my mom and I left.”
“Beingtaken,” Bryony repeated. “By a man.”
“Leopold,” I said. I couldn’t be certain, but it made sense. Everything was snapping into focus. Leopold, the bitter old man who’d rejected Caleb and driven my mother away. “I’ve been wondering why Leopold would leave this place to me. Whatever happened that night, it didn’t sound like it went the way it was supposed to. Desmond said he saw Roman bleeding.” Roman, so very eager to ingratiate himself to Leopold. He would have done anything to secure a place here. Including murder.
“So what do you think it was? Some kind of sacrifice?” Bryony asked. She looked sick.
“I dream of being buried,” I said. “Maybe it’s connected to that night. I think I was supposed to die, Bryony. I think Leopold meant to kill me. But it didn’t work, and we ran.”
“Right after that is when those kids attacked each other,” Bryony said. “The dark soul has been more dangerous ever since. Wild and unpredictable.”
“Like maybe the sacrifice that keeps it tame didn’t work,” I said.
Bryony halted, and I stopped alongside her. “You think your grandfather was capable of sacrificing a little girl?” she asked.
“I didn’t know him. But from what I’ve heard, I think so,” I said.
“But Leopold is dead now. Which means someone else would have to be in control,” she pointed out.
“Eli and Iris.” They had to know what went on and what the traditions of Harrow really meant. They were always around each other, always having private conversations. And while Caleb wasaround, a friendly presence, theywatchedme.
“It’s a theory. And one that finally makes things fit together,” Bryony said. She looked out over the water. The breeze made her hair dance around her cheeks. “Let’s say that we’re right. To keep the dark soul trapped, the Vaughans have to make sacrifices. Not just of anybody, but one of their own bloodlines. You don’t want to off the kids you raised. But bastards in town? Sure, who’s going to miss them. So girls vanish. Every twenty, thirty years. It explains the missing girls. And it explains you.”
“How does it explain me?” I asked.
“Your connection to the dark soul,” Bryony said, looking back at me. “It’s obviously had an influence on your life, even though you were far away from here. Which doesn’t make sense unless something happened to bind the two of you together. Like a ritual that was supposed to end in sacrifice and didn’t. You ran. The connection remained. People aren’t reacting to you, Helen. When they look at you, they must see the dark soul. That explains it.” She seemed relieved, like she was solving a puzzle that had been torturing her.
I folded my arms around my middle, feeling queasy. “So it explains the girls, and me, and why me and my mom ran,” I said.“And it explains Jessamine. Leopold failed. He had to try again. It was either Celia or Jessamine. And Celia...” I made a startled sound. “She lived in London for years. So he couldn’t get to her.”
“So he killed Jessamine, but it didn’t work. Because it was supposed to be you. It musthaveto be you now.” Bryony’s look was horrified—and her horror was a kind of comfort. I wasn’t in this alone.
