Страница 34 из 54
We’re just in time. It was all she could do to hold herself in, and now her eyes and mouth open wide in a deafening scream. She slashes the air with hooked fingers and I feel Will’s foot slip back, but Carmel’s thinking fast and lays the chicken feet below where A
“The circle is cast,” Thomas says. “She is contained.”
He kneels and we all kneel with him. It’s strange, the sensation that all of our legs are one leg. He places the silver scrying bowl down on the floor and uncaps his bottle of Dasani.
“It works as well as anything else,” he assures us. “It’s clean and clear and conductive. Needing holy water, or water from an earthen spring … it’s just snobbery.” The water falls into the bowl with a crystalline, musical sound, and we wait until the surface is still.
“Cas,” Thomas says, and I look at him. With a start I realize that he didn’t say anything out loud. “The circle binds us. We’re inside each other’s minds. Tell me what you need to know. Tell me what you need to see.”
This is all far too weird. The spell is strong—I feel grounded and high as a kite at the same time. But I feel rooted. I feel safe.
Show me what happened to A
Thomas closes his eyes again, and A
“Oh,” I hear Carmel whisper.
The air around us is changing. The house around us is changing. The strange, gray light slowly warms, and the dust sheets melt off of the furniture. I blink. I’m looking at A
There’s a woven rug on the floor of the sitting room, which is lit up by hurricane lamps that make the air yellow. Behind us, we hear the door open and shut, but I’m still too busy looking at the changes, at the photos hanging on the walls and the rusty red embroidery on the sofa. If I look closer, I can see that it’s not really that fine; the chandelier is tarnished and missing crystals, and there’s a rip in the fabric of the rocking chair.
A figure moves through the room, a girl in a dark brown skirt and plain gray blouse. She’s carrying schoolbooks. Her hair is tied up in a long, brown ponytail, secured with blue ribbon. When she turns at a sound on the staircase, I see her face. It’s A
Seeing her alive is indescribable. I thought once that there couldn’t be much left of the living girl inside of what A
“And what did we learn in school today, dear A
His hand comes up over her shoulder and he traces a finger across the cover of her book. “More things that you don’t need.”
“Mama wishes for me to do well,” A
“And so you will.” He smiles. He has an angular face and good teeth. There’s a five o’clock shadow on his cheeks, and he’s starting to go bald. He wears what’s left of his sandy blond hair slicked back. “Smart girl,” he whispers, lifting a finger to her face. She jerks away and runs up the stairs, but it doesn’t look like fleeing. It looks like attitude.
That’s my girl, I think, and then remember I’m in the circle. I wonder how much of my thoughts and feelings are ru
I keep my eyes on the man: A
Fucking pervert, Thomas thinks inside of our heads. I clench my fists. The urge to run at the man is overwhelming, even though I know I’m watching something that happened sixty years ago. I’m watching it like it’s playing on a projector. I can’t change any of it.
Time shifts ahead; the light changes. The lamps seem to get brighter and figures flash by in dark blurry clumps. I can hear things, muffled conversations and arguments. My senses struggle to keep up.
There’s a woman at the foot of the stairs. She’s wearing a severe black dress that looks like it must be scratchy as hell, and her hair is pulled back in a tight bun. She’s looking up at the second floor, so I can’t see her face. But I can see that she’s holding A
I feel more than hear Thomas sniff. His cheeks twitch—he’s caught wind of something.
Power, he thinks. Power from the black.
I don’t know what he means. I don’t have time to wonder.
“A
“Yes, Mama?”
Her mother holds up the dress in her fist. “What is this?”
A
“It was in her room.” It’s him again, walking out of the kitchen. “I heard her say she was working on it. I found it for her own good.”
“Is it true?” her mother demands. “What is the meaning of it?”
“It’s for a dance, Mama,” A
“This?” Her mother holds the dress up and spreads it out with both hands. “This is for dancing?” She shakes it in the air. “Whore! You will not go dancing! Spoiled girl. You will not leave this house!”
At the top of the stairs, I hear a softer, sweeter voice. An olive-ski
“Do not be angry, Mrs. Korlov,” Maria says quickly. “I help her. It was my idea. Something pretty.”
“You,” Mrs. Korlov spits. “You’ve made it worse. Whispering your Spanish filth into my daughter’s ears. She has become willful since you came. Proud. I won’t have you whispering to her anymore. I want you out of this house!”
“No!” A
The man takes a step closer to his fiancée. “Malvina,” he says. “We do not need to lose boarders.”
“Hush, Elias,” Malvina snaps. I’m begi
The scene speeds up. I can feel more than see what’s happening. Malvina throws the dress at A
Time moves ahead, and my eyes and ears strain to follow Maria as she goes, leaving with only one suitcase. I hear A
Malvina and Elias are in the sitting room. Malvina is knitting something out of dark blue yarn and Elias is reading the newspaper, smoking a pipe. They look miserable, even in their evening routines of pleasure. Their faces are slack and bored, mouths drawn in thin, grim lines. I have no idea how this courtship went, but it had to be about as interesting as watching bowling on TV. My mind moves to A