The House of the Stone

I AM LED THROUGH THE COUNTESS’S PALACE, BLINDFOLDED, on a leash.

I thought the doctor’s appointments at Southgate were bad. Or the Augury lessons. Or the prep room. They were nothing compared to this. How many more humiliations do I have to suffer? I’ve only been here a day.

To counteract my blindness, I have to keep my hands out in front of me to make sure I don’t hit anything, which makes me look and feel stupid. Stairs are especially treacherous. I don’t trust Frederic one iota, so with each step I feel like the floor might just vanish beneath me. I wouldn’t be surprised if this palace had trapdoors or endless chasms or other awful things.

And I hear whispers. Everything will be quiet and then suddenly we’ll turn a corner and there will be footsteps and voices.

“There it is.”

“It’s taller than the last one.”

“Prettier, too.”

“Oh, look, it tripped.”

And then we’ll turn another corner and the snickers will fade away, leaving a dark blush on my cheeks and a squirming in my stomach.

It’s also unnerving that every voice I hear is male.

Suddenly, there’s a cool gust of air on my face.

“Put it in the car, Frederic.” The Countess’s voice makes my skin prickle. I don’t know if it’s better or worse that I can’t see her.

Frederic tugs me along, the metal leash digging into the back of my neck. Then his hand is on my head, pushing it down. “Get in,” he says.

I reach out with my hands to keep myself from falling and they land on something smooth that smells like leather.

“This would be easier if I wasn’t blindfolded,” I mumble, stumbling on the hem of my dress as I get into whatever mode of transportation this is. A door on the other side of me opens and closes and judging by the way the seat sinks down, I’m guessing the Countess just got in. I can feel her presence next to me and shrink away from it.

“Go,” is all she says. An engine starts and then we’re moving.

It’s very different from the electric stagecoach that took me to my house on Reckoning Day. It feels like we’re gliding instead of driving. Maybe we are. I wouldn’t know.

We drive in circles for a while, until I’ve lost all sense of direction. The silence in the car is interrupted only once.

“She must be quite confident,” Frederic says. “It’s been nineteen years.”

“Her theory is flawed,” the Countess says. “We are going to prove that to her.”

Whatever we are traveling in slows and the ground underneath us becomes uneven—gravel maybe? Then we come to a stop. The door on my side opens.

“Does she require assistance?” an unfamiliar, wheezy voice asks.

“Not at all,” Frederic replies.

There’s a yank on my leash and I stumble out into fresh air.

“Watch the stairs,” Frederic says. At first, I don’t think he’s talking to me, but then my foot connects with the hard edge of a step. I count them—five stairs, but they are long, so we’re not going up very much. I walk forward over a smooth surface that makes my footsteps echo. I think I hear running water.

The blindfold is removed.

The light around me is soft, but I still have to blink as my eyes adjust. I’m standing in a large foyer with a fountain in its center. An old man in a coat with tails is taking the Countess’s cloak.

“This way,” he says. We walk down a hall decorated with large oil paintings. The old man stops in front of a closed door and turns to Frederic.

“You may wait in here,” he says.

Frederic nods and moves forward, but the old man clears his throat.

“Her ladyship requests that all accessories be removed prior to entering the dining room,” he says.

Frederic raises an eyebrow, but the Countess merely chuckles.

“Of course,” she says. “Whatever our gracious host desires.”