“Shhh! Go on,” Felicity says.
“She welcomed us warmly with herb tea and tales of her travels. We gave sweets to Carolina, who devoured them. To Mother we gave five pence. And then she promised to read the cards for us, as she has before. But no sooner had Mother placed Sarah’s cards in the familiar cross pattern than she stopped and shuffled them into a pile again. ‘The cards have a bad temper today,’ she said with a little smile, but in truth she seemed taken by a sense of foreboding. She asked to see my palm, snaking her sharp fingernail along the pathways of my hand. ‘You are on a dark journey,’ she said, dropping my hand like a hot stone. ‘I cannot see the outcome.’ Then, most abruptly, she asked us to leave as she needed to make her way through the camp to be sure things were well settled.”
Ann is peering over my arm, trying to read ahead. I pull the book away and end up dropping it, scattering the pages.
“Bravo, my lady Grace!” Felicity applauds.
Ann helps me cluster the papers together in my arms. She can’t stand having anything out of order. A patch of wrist is exposed. I can see the red cross-hatching of welts there, fresh and angry. This is no accident. She’s doing it to herself. She sees me looking and pulls hard at her sleeves, covering her secret.
“Come now,” Felicity chides. “What more will the diary of Mary Dowd reveal to us tonight?”
I grab a page. “Here we go,” I say. It’s not the same page, but that hardly matters to them.
“April 1, 1871
“Sarah came to me in tears. ‘Mary, Mary, I cannot find the door. The power is leaving me.’
“‘You are overwrought, Sarah. That is all. Try again tomorrow.’
“‘No, no,’ she wailed. ‘I have tried for hours now. I tell you it is gone.’
“My heart was gripped with an icy cold. ‘Sarah, come. I’ll help you find it.’
“She turned on me with such fury that I scarcely recognized her as my friend. ‘Don’t you understand? I must do it myself or it’s not real. I cannot ride along on your powers, Mary.’ She began to cry then. ‘Oh, Mary, Mary, I cannot bear to think that I will never again touch the runes or feel their magic flowing through me. I cannot bear to think that I will be only ordinary Sarah from now on.’
“For the rest of the evening I could not rest or eat at all. Eugenia saw my misery and bade me sit with her in her own room. She says it is often that way—a girl’s power flares, then fades. The power must be nurtured deep in the soul, else it’s nothing more than grasping. Oh, diary, she confided that Sarah’s power is such, fleeting and unanchored. She says that the realms make the decision about who shall rise in the Order and learn all the ancient mysteries and who must stay behind. Eugenia patted my hand and confessed that the power is great in me, but I am lost to think of going forward without my dearest friend and sister.
“When Sarah came to me late this evening, I felt as if I would do anything to make things as they were before, with us close as sisters again and the magic of the realms within our reach. I told her so.
“‘Oh, Mary,’ she cried. ‘You’ve cheered me considerably. You know there is a way that we can be together always.’
“‘What do you mean?’
“‘I have a confession. I have visited the Winterlands. I have seen it.’
“I was shocked at this, it chilled me so. ‘But, Sarah, that is a realm we are not to know yet. There are things we should not see without the guide of our elders here.’
“Sarah got such a hard look in her eyes. ‘Don’t you see? Our elders want us to know only what they can control. They fear us, Mary. That is why Eugenia is taking the power from me. I have spoken to a spirit that wanders there. She told me the truth.’
“Her words seemed true, but I was afraid still. ‘Sarah, I’m afraid. To call up a dark spirit is to go against everything we’ve been taught.’
“Sarah clasped my hands. ‘It’s only to bring us the power we need. We will bind the spirit to us, make it do our bidding. Don’t worry so, Mary. We will be its masters, not the other way around, and once the Order sees what we can do, what power we hold by ourselves, they’ll have to let me stay. We’ll be together forever.’
“This next part I shuddered to speak aloud. ‘What will it require?’
“Sarah stroked my cheek lovingly. ‘A small sacrifice, nothing more. A grass snake or a sparrow, perhaps. She will tell us. Sleep now, Mary. And tomorrow, we shall make our plans.’
“Oh, diary, my heart feels much misgiving about this endeavor. But what can I do? Sarah is my dearest friend in all the world. I cannot go on without her. And perhaps she is right. Perhaps, if we keep our hearts strong and pure, we can bend the creature to our will, using it only for the best intentions.”
Pippa is nearly breathless. “Well, there’s a fine place to leave off.”
“Yes, the plot thickens,” Felicity says. “In fact, it may be congealing.”
Everyone shares a giggle except me. The passage has left me uneasy. Or it could be the heat. It’s unseasonably warm for September. The air inside the caves is sticky, and I’ve begun to sweat beneath my corset.
“Do you suppose Mother Elena could tell us our futures?” Ann muses.
I can’t help it. At the thought of Gypsies, my eyes find Felicity’s. She gives me a piercing glare as if I’m betraying her with this quick look.
“I’m not sure that Mother Elena could tell us the day of the week,” Felicity says.
“I have the most marvelous idea,” Pippa trills, and suddenly, I know we’re in for it. “Let’s see if we can make our own magic.”
“I’m game,” Felicity says. “Who else wants to commune with the other world?”
Pippa sits on Felicity’s right, their gloved hands intertwined. Ann plops down next to Pippa. The hair on the back of my neck stands up.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I begin, realizing at once that it sounds cowardly.
“Are you afraid we’ll turn you into a frog?” Felicity pats the ground beside her. There’s no getting around it. I’m going to have to join the circle. Reluctantly, I take my seat and join hands with Ann and Felicity.
Pippa has the giggles again. “What do we say to get started?”
“We’ll go around in a circle and each add something,” Felicity instructs. “I’ll start. O great spirits of the Order. We are your daughters. Speak to us now. Tell us your secrets.”
“Come to us, O daughters of Sappho.” Pippa dissolves into laughter.
“We don’t know that they’re Sapphists,” Felicity says, annoyed. “If we’re going to do this, let’s do it right.”
Chastened, Pippa says softly, “Come to us now in this place.”
“We beseech you,” Ann adds.
It’s quiet. They’re waiting for me.
“All right,” I say, sighing and rolling my eyes. “But I do this against my better judgment, and I’d best not hear these words come back to haunt me as private little jokes later.”
I close my eyes and concentrate on Ann’s heavy, congested breathing, willing my mind to stay blank. “Sarah Rees-Toome and Mary Dowd. Wherever you are in this world, show yourselves. You are welcome here.”
There’s nothing but the sound of water trickling along the cave’s walls. No spirits. No visions. I don’t know whether to be relieved or a little disappointed in my lack of power.
I do not get the chance to ponder this dilemma for long. The air sparkles with random bursts of light. Suddenly, it’s as if the cave is on fire, flames leaping up, so hot I can’t catch my breath.
“No!” Using all my strength, I break the circle and find myself back in the cave while Pippa, Ann, and Felicity look at me, stunned.
“Gemma, what’s the matter?” Ann asks, breathing hard.
I’m panting.
“Oh, my. I think someone got a wee bit frightened,” Felicity says.
“I suppose that’s it,” I say, sinking to the floor. My arms feel heavy, but I’m relieved that nothing has happened.
“It’s a curious thing, though,” Pippa says. “But I could swear I felt a sort of tingling for a moment.”
“So did I,” Felicity says in wonder.