Read Prophecy of the Sisters Page 19


  “You’re right, of course. If the list is not to be found here, his chamber is the next logical place.”

  Luisa levels her gaze at me. “So,” she says. “What are we waiting for?”

  Without the fire to keep it warm, Father’s room is cold as a tomb.

  Luisa and Sonia enter without hesitation, but I close the door behind me and stand with my back to it for a moment. I survey the room, realizing it is unfamiliar to me because I so rarely had occasion to enter it when Father was alive. He slept here, that is all. All of his living was done in the library and the rest of the house with me, Alice, and Henry.

  And yet, when I finally move into the room, I cannot help but feel that an important part of father did reside in this room. Perhaps it was a secret part of himself. A part that he kept hidden away from the rest of us. But as my eyes light on the picture of my mother on the night table, the books stacked neatly next to it, I begin to realize it was no less important for its secrecy.

  “Lia?” Sonia is looking at me from the center of the room, palms up in question. “Where shall we begin?”

  It takes me moment to come back to the reason for our visit to Father’s room, and when I do, I find I have no more idea where to begin than Sonia.

  I shrug. “I don’t know. The bureau, I suppose. Under the mattress?”

  Luisa steps to the bed, kneeling before it and slipping a hand between the two mattresses. “I’ll begin here. Lia, why don’t you search the more private of your father’s things?”

  “I’m going to feel behind the wardrobe,” Sonia says, moving toward the armoire in the corner of the room.

  I stand in the center of the room for a moment, trying to overcome my feelings of guilt at invading my father’s privacy, even for a reason as important as this one. Finally, I remind myself that the list will not present itself to me, and I set to work.

  I have never so much as looked inside a man’s dresser. I don’t know what I expected, but the neat rows of dark stockings and suspenders are a sharp contrast to the frilly lace and silk of my mother’s things. With every step I take closer to the prophecy, I feel as if I peel back the layers of my parents, seeing them as the man and woman they were instead of my mother and father. It is a strange and oddly touching journey, and I endeavor to be respectful as I move Father’s things aside in the drawers.

  It doesn’t take long. There are only four drawers and it quickly becomes apparent that there is nothing unusual in any of them. I spin to face the room, leaning against the bureau. Luisa sits on the bed and Sonia stands against the wardrobe, arms folded in front of her chest as she chews the corner of her thumb. They don’t need to say a thing.

  “Nothing?” I ask.

  Sonia shakes her head. “I even opened the wardrobe and went through the shirts and trousers. There’s nothing there.”

  Luisa sighs. “And I’ve checked between the mattresses, under the bed, and behind the headboard. I’m afraid I’ve had no better luck.”

  I fight the frustration that has become my familiar companion since discovering the prophecy and my place in it. With every step forward, it seems we take two back. We need some assistance, something to match the aid Alice has had from the Souls, thus far.

  I look first at Sonia and then at Luisa. “There is one person who knew for certain where the list was hidden before my father died.”

  Luisa breaks in, her voice firm. “We cannot risk Sonia again to speak to your father, Lia. Not after last night. We shall have to find another way.”

  I do not intend to risk Sonia’s welfare again. Her face is still wan, dark crescents shading the skin under her eyes. She has not said it, but it is clear that contact with the Beast has sapped her strength. Asking her to speak with Father was careless, but putting her at risk again is not an option now that I am fully aware of the danger.

  But I do not have to say aloud any of these things. Sonia looks into my eyes and sees clearly the plan that is written there. “It isn’t me she means to risk.”

  Luisa shakes her head. “I don’t understand.”

  Sonia pulls her gaze from mine and looks at Luisa. “Sittings are not the only way to make contact with the dead.”

  “My father is in the Otherworlds, Luisa. Isn’t that right, Sonia?”

  She nods. “Somewhere. Yes.”

  And now Luisa understands. She shakes her head, her brown eyes wide. “No! No, no, no. You will not travel willingly.” She jumps to her feet. “Didn’t you hear what your aunt said just last night? It’s dangerous, Lia. For all of us but most of all for you. No. It is simply out of the question. We cannot risk your discovery by the Souls. We’ll have to find another way.”

  Sonia sighs as if feeling compelled to say something she does not really want to say. “Only… there might be a way… a way in which Lia could find her father quickly and avoid the Souls.”

  If there is a way to find my father and determine the location of the list, any way at all, I will do it. I meet her eyes. “Tell me.”

  “There are rules to traveling the Plane, and one of them is that no soul can occupy more than one of the seven Otherworlds at once, though all may travel freely among them. If you can locate your father in one world while the Souls remain in another… well, it may be possible to obtain the location of the list quickly before you are detected and detained.”

  Something she says makes me stand up straighter. “But why only seven worlds? I thought you said there are eight?”

  “The last world is reserved for the dead. Once one’s soul crosses into the final world, there is no returning to this one.”

  I shudder at her words. “Is it even possible, then, to meet my father in the Otherworlds since he is dead, and I am not?”

  Sonia nods. “Your father has not yet crossed. We would not have been able to speak to him if he had. Those who wait willingly in the Otherworlds do so for a reason. Your father must be waiting to help you. Once he crosses, you will not be able to speak to him again until you join him in the final world. But the other seven worlds are… in-between places… in-between places in which you can meet.” She stops, looking at me kindly as if wanting to ease my disappointment before the words are even spoken. “But… you are as yet untrained, Lia.”

  “I know, but this is our only hope. We must find the names of the two remaining keys. We cannot go any further without them, and the only way to find them is to first find the list.” I ponder it a moment more before making my decision. “It is the only way. You said it is possible to control one’s travel, didn’t you? That one can fall willingly into the Otherworlds? You can help me get there, Sonia. You can help me find my father. You can tell me what to do.”

  She doesn’t want to agree. Her nod comes slowly and with effort. “But you will be taking a grave risk. The Souls are waiting. Samael himself is waiting. He is waiting for you, Lia. He will try to detain your soul in the Otherworlds. If he should succeed… if he should succeed, he will take you to the Void and you will be Samael’s prisoner for eternity. Do you understand what that means, Lia? You will never be able to cross into the final world. Never.” She shakes her head, coming to a decision. “No. You must not travel alone. Not yet. I will go with you. ”

  But her words do not sway me. I have made my decision.

  I shake my head. “No. I will go alone.”

  A half hour later, I lie on the leather sofa in the darkened library, the drapes pulled against the afternoon light. Sonia kneels beside the sofa, her eyes earnest and worried.

  “When I say, close your eyes and empty your mind of everything but the place you wish to go, the face you wish to see. We will count together until I say stop. Try to hear your own breath, to feel the beat of your heart. I know it sounds… well, it must sound mad! But that’s what you must do. Reduce yourself to the workings of your physical body while you empty your mind of all but that which you desire to see.” She pauses before continuing. “Be careful what you think about while traveling. Thoughts have power, Lia. Especially in
the Otherworlds.”

  I store away this new rule for later use and feel a moment of panic as fresh questions arise. “Wait a minute. Must I travel through the worlds in some sort of order while searching for Father?” I remember the dead field where I met Alice. “And what if I find myself in the wrong place? If I cannot find Father, or worse yet, if I arrive in a frightening place altogether?”

  “You may travel anywhere you like, though it will take some time to gain control over your destination. Because you are unpracticed, you must try to… to call your Father to you. He will feel your presence on the Plane. This knowledge, this… energy will bring you together in the right world. He will find his way to you if he can. And if he doesn’t, you are in the wrong world and must leave immediately for another before the Souls detect your presence.”

  “What if… what if the Souls find me? Or Samael? How will I get away?”

  Sonia chews her lip, thinking. “You will have to set your feet on solid ground at the first possible moment. We are always vulnerable on the Plane. It is not our natural place. But we are most vulnerable of all when flying. Those who live in the Otherworlds know its ways. They know how to navigate its terrain, how to locate the things they seek. And how to bring harm to those they view as intruders. If you become trapped by the Souls, or Samael, or anyone else —”

  I prop myself up on my elbows in protest. “Anyone else?”

  She places a warm hand on my arm. “The Otherworlds are full of spirit beings. Some will seek to help you, others to make simple mischief, and still others to do real harm. Even experienced travelers must be wary on the Plane.”

  This new knowledge serves only to spur me forward, anxious to have the deed done so that I may return to the safety of Birchwood. “All right. Tell me how I can protect myself then.”

  Sonia’s brow wrinkles as she searches for words. “All living things give off energy of some kind, and this includes those whose spirits dwell in the Otherworlds. When they seek to cause you harm, they do so by harnessing the energy they have. To protect yourself, you have to do the same.”

  I nod, thinking of the Souls that swirled above Alice and me in the dead field, the force of them, the power that made me weak-willed and complacent. “How do I manage such a thing? To… harness such energy?”

  She taps her fingers nervously on the sofa. “That is the part that’s so difficult to explain. I’ve been doing it since I was small, so it isn’t an easy thing to name, but think of the energy you harbor as a seed, a tiny seed lying at the very center of your being. The seed is small, invisible even, but within it is more force, more strength, more light, than you can imagine. When you feel threatened, you have to see the seed unraveling, opening to reveal the living thing within.”

  I don’t want her to know that this seems very fantastical. That the idea of an invisible seed protecting me against the force of the Souls seems farfetched in the extreme, and that is putting it quite nicely. Instead I nod, opening my mind to her words, reminding myself that I would not have believed any of it — the mark, the medallion, the prophecy — a few short weeks ago. And yet it has all proven true.

  She continues as if she can hear my disbelief. “You mustn’t simply think it. You have to see it, all right? You have to envision the seed opening, allowing your energy to flow outward from it, creating a barrier that will allow you time to escape.”

  “Is that my only hope then? Escape?”

  She nods. “For now. You’ve not the strength or skill for anything else. Just finish the task at hand, Lia. Find your father. Ask him where he hid the list. And then come back without delay.”

  27

  “Eleven… twelve… thirteen… fourteen… fifteen…”

  Our voices make ghostly music in the emptiness behind my eyelids. They work together — mine, Luisa’s, and Sonia’s — creating a whispery backdrop to the darkness into which I will myself to fall.

  And then they fall silent, privy to some cue I cannot see.

  “Lia, you will let this world go. Allow yourself to fall into the blackness toward the Otherworlds.” Sonia’s voice is deep and soft before it goes quiet, and I am left to the empty world of my mind.

  At first it is difficult not to think. It is difficult not to wonder when Aunt Virginia will be home, whether the servants find it strange that I am behind closed doors with my friends, and whether I shall be able to find Father.

  But my mind covers this small area quickly, and soon I am left with nothing else to wonder. With nothing else to do but think of Father’s face, hear my breath, at first shallow and then ever slower and deeper. I picture the soft and fragrant world of my sea flight, the endless sky stretched smooth above me. I smell the salty air of the sea and imagine Father’s face.

  All at once, there is a flash, a blinding light that leaves me not in the darkness of sleep but in blazing sunlight through which I cannot see. The sound of my heart beating is magnified, thudding insistently in the background as flashes of memory come more and more rapidly. Birchwood. The faces of Sonia and Luisa, Alice and Henry. The river, James lying by its side. And then I am let loose of the constraints of my body with a great, freeing tug, coming to consciousness flying over a wood I don’t recognize.

  The ground below me is dense with trees, a thick green carpet that looks smooth and soft from the air. As I move through the sky, the smell of salt becomes stronger, the trees below me thinning until they are lost completely to a far-reaching meadow swaying with long, green grass. I hear the sea in the distance. It grows louder and louder, and soon I am over a beach of sweeping sand, an azure sea lapping at its shore.

  It is here that I will myself to touch the ground, remembering Sonia’s instructions to avoid flight where possible. My feet sink into the sand. I feel the coarse roughness of it even through my boots and marvel at the sensations that seem stronger each time I travel.

  I am not sure how to go about locating Father. According to Sonia, he will be looking for me, but even still it does not seem wise to stand so exposed on the beach. Especially since I cannot yet be sure that I am in the right world.

  Spectral rock formations have created caves that make it impossible to see beyond the beach. I am relieved that I don’t have to worry about protecting myself in an open space, but I avoid looking too closely at the darkness beyond the mouth of the caves. I focus on the path in front of me, picking my way along the stretch of sand and stepping around stray boulders as I go.

  “Well, hello, there!”

  I almost jump out of my skin at the sound of the voice coming from the caves, alarmed that I have company in a place so deserted. A gentleman walks toward me, avoiding the many craggy rocks as he goes. He is young, dressed in trousers and a waistcoat. The formality of his dress is comical on the untamed stretch of beach.

  “H-Hello.” I take a quick look around, wondering if there are others nearby.

  The man comes closer, and I see that he is quite handsome. His hair is fair, like that of James, his face slightly tanned. He is not much older than myself, and the gleam in his eye is entirely friendly. I relax my guard just a little.

  The man bows before me in mock seriousness. “Michael Ackerman, at your service, Miss. I thought I should wander the beaches all day without company, but I guess I’m in luck! To what do I owe the pleasure of such lovely company?”

  “Well… Uh, Mr. Ackerman —”

  “Oh, you must call me Michael. Mr. Ackerman is my father!”

  “All right, then… Michael. I’m looking for someone, you see. But I’m not sure where he is and I don’t… well, I don’t know my way around as of yet.”

  He nods knowingly. “I understand. You’re here for your father, aren’t you?”

  I tip my head, surveying him with renewed interest. “Why… yes. Yes, I am. How did you know?”

  He waves into the salty wind. “Oh, it is not difficult to know things here. You might say it’s a small world, eh?” He laughs at his joke.

  “I suppose. Do you know wh
ere I might find my father, then?”

  He nods with authority. “Yes, yes. Of course, I do! He sent me to find you, as a matter of fact.”

  “He did?”

  “Yes, indeed. Told me to look for a lovely girl of about sixteen and to bring her to him at once.” He takes hold of my arm, propelling me forward down the beach.

  I pull my arm from his. “Oh, wait one moment, please! I’m not sure I should be leaving with anyone. You see —”

  “Nonsense!” He takes hold of my arm, more firmly this time. “I know just who you’re looking for, and I shall take you right to him.”

  But I only take a couple of steps before I see the strange shine in his eyes. It does not seem helpful anymore, but something more sinister, and I hear Sonia’s voice across the worlds.

  Some will seek to help you, others to make simple mischief, and still others to do real harm.

  “Now listen here.” I move to pull my arm from his grasp. “I do appreciate your help. Truly. But I think I’ll stay here a moment. Surely my father will find me, if only I stay in one place for a bit.”

  His grip tightens, and I wince as his fingers dig painfully into the soft flesh of my upper arm. “No, no. I don’t think so.” His voice has changed. It is harder now. And something less than friendly. “We have another engagement, you see, one —”

  But he does not have time to finish. All at once, a boy of perhaps Henry’s age is standing in front of us wearing a strange shirt without buttons and short britches that reveal his scratched legs. His face is smudged with dirt.

  “Time to shove off, now, chap,” the boy says.

  “Now, now, little man. You’d do well not to concern yourself with matters beyond your years. Run along.” Michael Ackerman pulls me a step farther before the boy steps in his path.

  “I’m not gonna tell you again. Let her go. I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

  It is strange to hear the threat come from so small a boy, but looking into his steely eyes I feel quite sure he means it.