The Novel Free

The Sweet Far Thing





One of the stick holders—a big-boned lass with coarse skin and wounds running the length of her arms—takes a stand beside Pippa. I remember speaking to her in the realms before. Bessie Timmons. She’s the sort I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of.



She glances at us suspiciously. “Everfin’ all righ’, then?”



“Yes, Bessie. These are my friends, the ones I told you all about,” Pippa says proudly.



“The ones wot took the Temple magic and lef ’ you ’ere?” Bessie snorts.



“But you see they came back.” Beaming, Pippa puts her arm around Felicity.



Bessie doesn’t like it one bit. “I wouldn’t be too ’appy. They’re not ’ere to stay.”



Pippa wags a finger as a schoolmarm would. “Bessie, remember our motto: Grace, strength, beauty. A lady must be gracious when welcoming guests.”



“Yes, Miss Pippa,” Bessie says contritely.



“But, Pip…where have you been? I want to know everything!” Felicity says, embracing Pippa again.



I know I should embrace her as Fee and Ann have done, but I can see only those disturbing eyes and sharp teeth, and I am afraid.



“I shall tell you everything. But come inside. It’s far too chilly out here.” Pippa takes hold of Ann’s and Felicity’s hands, pulling them toward the castle. Grumbling, Bessie Timmons follows. The remaining girls fall into line, and I bring up the rear.



Pippa throws back the iron latch on the castle’s warped wooden door. The weeds snake through the planks, plastering themselves to the front.



“Here we are,” Pippa says, pushing open the door. “Home.”



It seems as if it might have been a beautiful stronghold in its day, but now it is nothing more than ancient bricks with vines for mortar. The walls are slick with moss. It smells of damp and decay. Brittle daisies, dead on their stalks, peek up between broken flagstones. The only thing that seems to grow is belladonna. The poisonous purple flowers hang above our heads like little bells.



“This is where you’ve been…” I stop myself from saying living. “Where you’ve been all this time?”



“It’s all that’s left for me. A moldering castle for the Lady of Shalott.” Pippa laughs, but it is hollow. She rubs her palms across the elaborate carvings etched into a hearth. The carvings are like saints’ faces gone black with time. “But you can tell it was once magical and beautiful.”



“What happened to it?” Ann asks.



Pippa glares at me. “It was forgotten.”



Felicity pulls aside a threadbare tapestry, revealing a winding staircase. “Where does this lead?”



“To the tower,” Pippa says, smiling wistfully. “It is my favorite place, for I can see for miles. I could even see you coming down the path. You looked so merry.” Her smile falters but she quickly puts a new one in its place. “Shall I show you?”



We follow Pippa up and around the antiquated staircase. Cobwebs cling to rotting wooden rafters far above us. The silvery strands glint with moisture. Some unfortunate creature has met its end there. In the center of a web, its carcass lies trapped and rotting as a spider inches toward it.



I steady myself against the wall. The vines slither around my fingers. Startled, I leap back, slipping on the crumbling stone. Pippa reaches out and grabs my hand, pulling me to safety. “Hold still a moment,” she says.



As we watch, amazed, the vines crisscross the stone like a conquering army. The walls groan with the strain, and I fear that the whole castle will fall down around us. Seconds later, it stops, but fresh tendrils have sprung up everywhere.



“What was that?” Felicity whispers.



“The land’s swallowing it bit by bit every day,” Pippa says sadly. “Soon, we’ll need to find new lodgings, I suppose.” She releases my hand. “Are you all right, Gemma?”



“Yes,” I say. “Thank you.”



“That’s twice I’ve saved your life,” she reminds me. “Do you remember the first time? The water nymphs nearly took you under, but I pulled you back,” she says, and I feel the ledger book open between us.



Pip is right about the tower: it’s magnificent. From the top, we can see beyond the way we’ve come—the Caves of Sighs, the olive trees that line the gardens, the blue sky and the orange sunset. We can also see beyond the Borderlands, where dark wintry clouds sit on their haunches on the horizon and an enormous wall stretches the length of the land.



“That is the way into the Winterlands,” Pippa says, answering an unspoken question.
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