“About two weeks ago, in a fine carriage with an even finer pair of horses. She stood at the gates until one of the boys working in the fields noticed her and let her in. She might have been out there for days for all we know. She never made a peep.”
“But I never told her where I was going. She didn’t know I left London at all.”
Agathe made a hissing sound. “Someone told her.”
All right, he was ready to admit fear. “Wh-what’s wrong with her?” Owen whispered. Because something was definitely wrong with Maria.
Agathe shuddered and went and pulled the curtains shut. They were a wispy fabric and he could still see Maria’s outline as she trampled back and forth outside.
“She’s ruining my flower beds,” Agathe said. “She won’t speak much to any of us except to say she was waiting for you.”
He looked to Sorin for an answer and Sorin shook his head. “I can’t say for sure, not having known her before—”
Owen jumped guiltily. “Before what?” he yelped.
His cousin narrowed his eyes at him. “How about you tell us that.”
They stared at him. It felt accusatory, but that might have been his guilty conscience. “I did a spell to make people in London think I was rich and owned a lot of land,” he admitted.
After all the long days of walking, he’d had plenty of time to think about that, plenty of time to feel ashamed. He thought it might have worn off a bit, but he felt as bad as ever about it.
“That’s not what that is,” Agathe said, her patience wearing thin.
Sorin held up his hand and she shook her head and turned away from them, away from the window. “There wasn’t anything else?” Sorin asked. “You needn’t worry that you’ll be in trouble, but we need to know exactly what you did.”
“Don’t coddle the boy,” Agathe said, turning to Owen with a sour look. “You might very well be in trouble.”
Owen pushed his plate away, hardly able to stand the smell anymore. “She found out. Everyone found out it was all lies, but she was the only one I cared about. I wanted to apologize or explain. I didn’t mean to use magic, in fact I tried not to! But it came out, trying to make her forget so we could start over.”
“Ah, were you in love with her?” Sorin asked. “Damn your father for never teaching you. If you’re having hexes fly out of you without even trying, that’s dangerously powerful. He should have sent you to us long ago if he wasn’t up to teaching you himself. What happened to Maria?”
Agathe huffed from her corner. “Sorin, what does it matter how it came about? It’s here and I want it gone. Everyone does.”
“Calm down, Aggie. She hasn’t really caused any trouble, has she? We need to get to the bottom of things. Owen, what happened to Maria when you accidentally did your spell?”
Owen heard the words his cousin uttered but he couldn’t register them. All he could focus on was what Agathe had said. It’s here.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice shockingly high. He cleared his throat. “What do you mean when you want it gone? Why do you call Maria that as if she—”
By the look on Sorin’s face and the way Agathe held herself, he knew he’d done something very, very wrong. He stood and rushed to the door, determined to speak to Maria himself, but Agathe grabbed him by the arm.
“That’s not your Maria anymore,” she said. “It’s something else now and we need to get rid of it.”
Owen pushed his way past her and ran outside, stopping short in front of Maria.
They were wrong. They had to be wrong. He looked at the trampled flower bed and tried to block out the memories of the dark emptiness he’d seen in her eyes when Ariana managed to revive her. He’d been scared then, but had managed to convince himself he was seeing things.
Gathering the nerve to look up, he stood face to face with Maria, looking back at him unblinking and somewhat expectantly. What should he say to her? He wished he could think she was as pretty as ever. But she was dirty and almost down to skin and bones. It was bad enough not to let her in their homes, but wouldn’t they feed her? If his relatives were that cruel, he may as well leave today.
“How did you know I would come here?” he asked.
It hurt to speak to her so bluntly, recalling all their silly flirtations, the way their words to each other used to come out like songs.
She shrugged and turned away, wandering toward the back of the house. Frustrated, he followed her until they finally came to a creek. The house was tiny in the distance and he felt a frisson of fear at being alone with her.
Nonsense. They’re wrong.
“Maria, please talk to me. Did you speak to my parents to know I was coming here? God, what about your parents? You didn’t run away, did you?”
She smiled the wolfish smile and sat down. Just sat straight down on the ground without bothering to see what was beneath her. He shoved away some damp leaves and twigs and sat beside her.
“Fish,” she said and pointed to the creek.
A moment later a fish broke free from the gentle current, twisted in midair and splashed back down.
“That’s a neat trick,” he said. “But what about—”
“I followed you here,” she said, still staring at the creek. “Fish.”
To his horror, she got up and crashed into the water, wading toward the center. The creek wasn’t more than ten feet across but it must have been deceptively deep because she was up to her neck after only a few steps. He jumped up to go after her when she ducked under the water, but just as quickly as she disappeared, her head broke
