Mayhap stepped into the room tentatively.
“Winnow,” she whispered. “Why are you in here?”
Winnow didn’t answer, only rocked her head from side to side, clenching her eyes closed. Mayhap approached the bed and placed a palm against Winnow’s cheek. Winnow blinked rapidly, as though she were trying to see something clearer.
Seekatrix yelped.
And Mayhap fell back from the bed with shock.
Winnow’s eyes were silver, their irises eaten up by the color.
“Winnow,” said Mayhap, louder now. “Winnow, what’s happened? Where’s Evenflee? Why were you closing your eyes without him? Were you experimenting again?”
It seemed to take a few moments for Winnow to register who Mayhap was. When she did, she recoiled, her face twisted. She lay down again, turning onto her side. The sound she made could only have been described as howling.
Which was probably what woke Peffiandra and Pavonine and brought them running.
“May?” Pavonine said. She stood in the doorway in her dressing gown of petaled lace. Peffiandra sat beside her, a full stop at the end of her sentence. “May, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” said Mayhap. “Go back to sleep, Pav. Everything’s fine.” She held a hand up to Pavonine to indicate that she should stay where she was.
But Winnow was still crying — sobbing. It was clear that Mayhap’s words were untrue. Perhaps the grass had been right to call her a liar.
Little liar. Little liar.
Pavonine marched over to stand beside Mayhap, and Peffiandra trotted after her, darting about the room playfully.
Pavonine reached for Winnow and rubbed her arm. “Winn,” she said. “It’s all right. It’s all right.”
Winnow did not flinch at Pavonine’s touch. When she opened her eyes again, Pavonine drew in a breath, but she didn’t look away. Mayhap turned her face to stare at the wallpaper. On it, droomhunds flew through forests of earth-rooted trees.
“What happened to her, May?” asked Pavonine, her hand still on Winnow’s arm.
“I don’t know,” said Mayhap. “Seekatrix woke me up, and Winnow was gone, and I found her here, and — she doesn’t want me to touch her.”
“I think she’s hurting,” said Pavonine.
Mayhap could only nod.
“Where’s Evenflee?” said Pavonine.
“I don’t know,” said Mayhap. “I asked her, but she won’t talk to me. I’m not sure she can.”
As if in response to this, Winnow cried out.
“Shhh,” said Pavonine, stroking Winnow’s hair. “Shhh, Winn. We’re going to find out what happened. I promise.” She looked at Mayhap as if to say, We promise, right?
Mayhap frowned. Winnow was awake, which meant Evenflee had to be somewhere. If he’d left her mind after sleeping, he would normally be right next to her. “Where’s Evenflee, Seeka?” she asked. But Seekatrix only stared at her.
Mayhap checked the wardrobe for Evenflee, then kneeled to peer under the bed. There was no sign of him.
“Maybe he got scared and ran away,” said Pavonine. “Maybe he’s hiding somewhere.”
Mayhap thought about this. The droomhunds were sensitive creatures, prone to frights and shakes and shivers. Seekatrix, the most nervous of all, trembled every time he heard a door rattle.
Evenflee could have been spooked by Winnow’s cries. He could have slipped under a sofa or behind a cabinet. He could be waiting for someone to find him. But when Mayhap had come into the room, Winnow looked like she was sleeping. Now she was awake, and Evenflee wasn’t around. It didn’t make any sense. Even if she’d been experimenting by closing her eyes without him, he would have been around. The droomhunds were always around.
“Do you think that’s what’s making her unwell, May?” piped up Pavonine. “The droomhunds are always with us . . .”
But Mayhap knew, behind a locked door in her heart, that whatever had gone wrong with Winnow went beyond a missing droomhund.
Their parents had told them not to leave the house, and Winnow had, and now she was hurting and her eyes were silver, like the grass.
Winnow stirred, and Pavonine said, “May, look —”
Mayhap watched the silver of Winnow’s irises seep out of her closed eyes. The color spread both upward and downward, staining her cheekbones and eyelashes.
Pavonine tucked Peffiandra under one arm and rubbed beneath Winnow’s eye with her thumb. “What is it?” she asked breathlessly.
Winnow’s eyes shot open. She screamed.
Mayhap took a step back. “I don’t know, Pav. I don’t know,” she said.
“What are we going to do?” asked Pavonine. “There has to be something we can do.”
Mayhap chewed on a nail. “We need to make her better,” she said. “Of course that’s what we have to do. We have to make her better.”
“But how?” asked Pavonine. “How are we going to do that?”
She had put Peffiandra on the bed and was pressing a palm to Winnow’s forehead now. Winnow was groaning. Peffiandra pawed at her.
Mayhap tried to remember what the grass had said to her the day before, but all she could remember was the feeling of being surrounded. And the word liar.
Pavonine spoke to the house. “Please make Winnow better,” she said. “Please.”
The girls waited.
Nothing happened.
A clank sounded behind them — then the squeak of a hinge.
Mayhap and Pavonine turned to see that one of the miniature windows was open, swinging back and forth. For a moment, the grass hovered beyond it. Then it began to snake its tendrils into the room, curling and susurrating, sighing and raveling. It was as if it was taunting Mayhap.
Little liar. Little liar. Little liar.
“May —” said Pavonine.
Mayhap barred her sister with her arm. “Don’t go close to it. Watch that Peffiandra stays on the bed.” She looked at her droomhund. “Seekatrix: stay.” He obeyed.
Mayhap walked to the window and pushed the grass out of it with one hand. It clung to her, but she wrestled it back, slamming the window shut. She rubbed her skin where the grass had touched it.
“What’s happening, May?” asked Pavonine again.
Mayhap could see that she was petrified.
She thought for a moment about telling her sister the truth. About Winnow going out into the grass. About opening the door. But she didn’t want to frighten Pavonine. She had to keep that all to
