But Mayhap knew she couldn’t do that.
“She’s my sister,” she said, pleading. “I don’t want her not to get worse — I want her to get better. I can’t stop —”
“You will!” said the Mysteriessa. “Or you will lose everything, as I did. We will lose everything.”
“I don’t understand —”
“Of course you don’t! You don’t know the cost of it. The cost of light is darkness, Mayhap. And do you know what the cost of having a family is? Hiding who you really are.”
Mayhap had never, ever, had to hide who she was. She had lost her parents too young to have to hide anything from them, and her sisters had always known her every secret. “It doesn’t have to be that way,” she said. “Please. Let Winnow be, and —”
The Mysteriessa laughed bitterly. “You haven’t seen,” she said, “that everything I’m doing is to protect you. To protect us.”
“Us?” Mayhap was tired of how the Mysteriessa tiptoed around secrets. Mayhap wanted to know. She wanted to know now. Before the silver took over Winnow. Before it was too late.
If she could only push the Mysteriessa a little bit more —
“You’re a coward,” Mayhap said.
“I’m not scared, I’m —”
“You are scared!”
“I am not!” said the Mysteriessa, covering her ears. “I’m trying to protect you!”
“I don’t want you to protect me,” said Mayhap. “I want you to make Winnow better.”
“I can’t . . .” whimpered the Mysteriessa. “I can’t . . .” She backed away and fell onto the narrow bed, curling up like a puppy. She began to sing quietly.
The song was so familiar. It was as though it wasn’t coming from the Mysteriessa but off Mayhap’s own tongue.
Then she made out the words: Think of an animal, think of a place. Think of a person, think of a face. The guessing game she had always played with her sisters. Coming out of the Mysteriessa’s mouth.
The words filled her with dread, but she was desperate to know the truth. She was desperate to make Winnow better. She had to keep trying, no matter what. She would try another tactic. She would try gentleness. She would get the Mysteriessa to talk.
“Quiverity,” Mayhap whispered, letting Seekatrix hop to the floor. “Tell me your favorite food, and I will ask the house for it. That’ll make you feel better, won’t it?” She touched the back of the Mysteriessa’s head, her silver-streaked hair.
A long silence.
Then the Mysteriessa sniffed. “Cinnamon porridge,” she said. “My favorite food is cinnamon porridge.”
Mayhap stepped back. “The house gave me your favorite breakfast,” she said.
Seekatrix began to bark.
The Mysteriessa sat up. “You’re putting it together, aren’t you?” she said, her tone as buttery as brioche. She giggled. “Think of an animal, think of a place. Think of a person, think of a face.”
Mayhap backed away more, knocking over a vase. It cracked, and sunlight streamed into the room.
The Mysteriessa had stolen sunlight from someone.
“I still don’t understand,” said Mayhap. “Why would the house give me your favorite breakfast?”
“Because,” said the Mysteriessa, “you are me.”
Mayhap wanted to laugh — the words were so absurd — but she found that she couldn’t. “What do you mean? You’re Quiverity Edevane. You’re the Mysteriessa —”
“I mean,” said the Mysteriessa, “that you are not a Ballastian sister. You never were. I made you, Mayhap. I made you out of dirt and bats’ lungs. Out of the darkness of the sky and the silk of the moon. A sprinkling of coffee grounds for your freckles.” The Mysteriessa held up her two white hands. “I made you with my magic, and I dug a hole deep in your heart — a hole I could nestle into. So that I could live within you. Live through you. It’s been so long since I had a sister, Mayhap. You must understand.”
Mayhap couldn’t breathe. Her blood was silver — silver like the grass. Silver like the streaks in the Mysteriessa’s hair.
“I used to love the grass,” said the Mysteriessa. “I used to love it more than anything, and it loved me back. I would spend hours running through it. It would rush against my skin. One day it asked me if I wanted to be a queen. A queen, like the ones in the stories it told me. And I said yes. I had settled down into the grass for a nap, and it told me it would need to take something from me — to make space for the magic to go in.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I said yes, and I drifted off — that beautiful, hushing color all around me, the grass giving shape to the wind. I woke to my family’s cries. I woke to see the grass pulling them beneath the ground. My mother. My father. My two sisters. And then they were gone. It only took a few moments, but those moments — they were everything. Do you know what I mean, Mayhap?”
Mayhap knew exactly what the Mysteriessa meant.
“The servants left,” continued the Mysteriessa. “I was alone. I had only magic to keep me company. I asked the house to look after me. But I became lonely, so lonely. I invited families here and stole from them — silence, good tastes, warmth. I stole from the families who lived here so that the magic could touch them. So that the house could look after them. I stole because I had been stolen from. Because stealing felt good. I stole to watch them suffer, as I had suffered. And then the Ballastians came along, and I couldn’t stand to watch them suffer. They were so much like my mother and my father, so much like my sisters.”
The room grew smaller and smaller.
If Mayhap searched — if she really looked — she could find the hole the Mysteriessa had made. It was in her heart, a little to the left. She could
