“I believe I shall walk with Fee,” she says. Head down, she runs to Felicity, leaving me behind.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

PIPPA AND THE GIRLS ARE IN THE CASTLE’S OLD CHAPEL when we return. They’ve a basket of plump berries, which Pippa sorts through, dropping the fruit into a chalice she’s found. The girls seem more worn than usual. Their hair is terribly matted, and if I catch them in a certain slant of light, their complexions are a mottled yellow, like fruit gone bad.

Pippa hums a merry tune. Seeing our long faces, she stops. “What is the matter? What has happened?”

Felicity gives me a hard look but neither she nor Ann confesses what I’ve done. My head aches now, and I have to keep my hands tucked under my armpits to quiet the shaking.

“Creostus has been killed,” I say tersely.

“Oh, is that all?” she says. She returns to her berry picking. Mae and Bessie don’t even look up. Their indifference is enraging.

“The forest folk have shunned me.”

Pippa shrugs. “They don’t matter. Not really.”

“I might have thought that once, but I was wrong. I do need them.”

“Those horrid creatures? You said they used to come into our world and take playthings. Horrid!” Pippa removes a mealy berry with her fingertips and drops it onto a cloth with the other discarded fruit.

“Yes, it’s wrong. And I might not like it. I might tell them I don’t. But Philon has never lied to me. When I needed help, the creature was an ally. All they asked was to have a voice, to share in their own governance, and I have failed them.” I take a steadying breath, and the magic settles a bit.

“Well,” Pippa says, dusting off her skirts, “I still don’t see why you need them when you have us. Bessie, darling, will you put these aside?”

Bessie takes the basket of fruit. She looks longingly at it. “How come them folk turned their backs on you, eh?”

The room feels close. Felicity and Ann avoid my eyes.

“They believe the Untouchables and I had something to do with Creostus’s murder.”

“That’s queer, innit?” Bessie stares at me. “How come they fink that?”

“Gemma’s been having secret talks with Circe,” Felicity announces.

“Oh, Gemma,” Pippa scolds. Her violet eyes flash, and in that moment they lose their color and become the milky blue-white of the Winterlands. The stare sends a chill down my spine.

“’Oo’s Circe?” Mae asks.

“The worst sort of villain,” Pippa explains. “She tried to kill Gemma. She would do anything to possess the magic of the Temple and rule the realms. She can’t be trusted.” Pippa glares at me. “And those who consort with her cannot be trusted either. For there is nothing worse than a deceiver who would betray her friends.”

“I didn’t betray anyone!” I shout, and the power I’ve silenced rumbles in me again, till I am forced to sit.

Felicity moves in beside Pippa, her arms folded. “Where were you earlier?” she asks in a low voice.

Pippa shrugs her off. “Gathering berries.”

“We looked for you in the forest.” Felicity presses.

“Not everywhere, it would seem.”

Bessie steps to Pippa’s side. She towers over Felicity by a good head. “Trouble, Miss Pippa?”

Pippa doesn’t rush to say Now, now, Bessie, don’t be silly, all is well. She lets the threat dangle for a moment, relishing the power in it. “No, thank you, Bessie.” Hands on her hips, she turns to Fee. “I might ask where you’ve been, but I suppose you’ve been busy with your life. Out there.”

“Pip…” Felicity tries to lace her fingers in Pippa’s but Pip won’t have it. She pulls away. “I brought you a gift,” Fee says, hopefully. She offers Pip a slim package wrapped in brown paper.

Pippa’s eyes light up as she opens it. For there are three ostrich feathers.

“So that you might have your coming out,” Felicity says softly.

“Oh. Oh, they are exquisite!” Pippa throws her arms around Felicity, who smiles at last. Bessie lumbers across the room with the basket of berries, nearly knocking over poor Mercy.

“Oh, do help me secure them,” Pip says.

Felicity fastens them to Pip’s hair at the back with the stem of a weed stolen from the altar.

“How do I look?” Pippa asks.

“Beautiful,” Felicity answers hoarsely.

“Oh, how enchanting! That is what we need to lift our spirits—a merry party. And every girl here shall make her debut. It will be a most magnificent ball—the grandest ever! Mae? Mercy? Who’s with me? Bessie, you’ll play, won’t you?”