walking to the window overlooking the streets below. She is quiet for a long time. When she finally speaks,
the mixture of awe and fear are unmistakable in her voice.
“So she can see us, then. And possibly hear us, too.”
I nod, though Sonia’s back remains turned. “I think so.”
She turns to face me. “What does it mean for us? For the missing pages?”
“No Sister of the prophecy would willingly hand over the location of the missing pages to Alice. But if she has been able
to observe our progress, she may try and beat us to them, either to use them to her own gain or to keep us from reaching them.”
“But she can’t cross into this world, not physically. Not for the time it would take to pursue us all that way. She would
have to take a ship to London and follow us in person, and that would take time.”
“Unless she has someone do it for her.”
Sonia meets my eyes.
“But what can we do, Lia? How will we stop her from reaching the pages if she can trace our movements from afar?”
I shrug. The answer is simple and not difficult to find.
“We will have to get there first.”
I hope Sonia cannot tell that my words are stronger than my conviction, for the knowledge that I might soon face my sister
causes me deep disquiet.
That Alice is ready to meet me, that she seeks to put the gears of the prophecy in motion once again, leaves me only with
a sense of foreboding. In the face of my sister’s power, my preparations seem meager indeed.
But they are all I have.
5
Sonia and I sit outside on the small patio at the back of Milthorpe Manor. It is not as sweeping as the grounds at Birchwood,
or as quiet, but the lush green shrubbery and lovely flowers are a refuge of sorts from the chaos and grit of London. We sit
side by side on identical chaises, our eyes closed to the sun.
“Shall I fetch us a parasol?” Sonia asks, I think, out of some semblance of propriety, but her voice is lazy and I know she
does not really care whether we have cover from the sun.
I don’t open my eyes. “I think not. The sun is fleeting enough in England. I won’t do a thing to shield myself from its warmth.”
The chaise next to me creaks, and I know Sonia has turned to look at me. When she speaks, I hear the laughter teasing herwords. “Surely London’s porcelain-skinned girls are cowering for cover on a day such as this.”
I lift my head, shielding my eyes. “Yes, well, pity for them. I’m ever so grateful not to be one of them.”
Sonia’s laugh travels on the breeze floating through the garden. “You and me both!”
We turn in the direction of the house as shouted voices drift to us on the patio. It sounds like a disagreement, though I
have never heard the staff argue before.
“Whatever is going — ” Sonia does not have time to finish her thought, for all at once there is the scuff of impending boots
as the voices become louder and nearer. Rising, we look at each other in alarm as we catch snippets of the argument.
“. . . quite ridiculous! You do not need to…”
“For goodness sake, don’t…”
A young woman rounds the corner first, Ruth quick on her heels. “I am sorry, Miss. I tried to tell her — ”
“And
I
tried to tell
her
that it is not necessary to announce us like strangers!”
“Luisa?” There is no mistaking the aquiline nose, the lush chestnut hair, the full red lips, and yet I still cannot believe
my friend is standing before me.
She does not have time to answer, for two more figures appear quickly behind her. I’m so surprised that words fail me entirely.
Thankfully, they do not fail Sonia.
“Virginia! And… Edmund?” she says.
I stand there a moment longer, wanting to be certain it isreal and not an afternoon dream. When Edmund smiles it is but a
trace of the one he had readily available when Henry was still alive, but it is enough. It is enough to shake loose my shock.
And then Sonia and I are squealing and running for them all.
After