Rebel Angels (Gemma Doyle #2)

The bird squawks. "I know who you are. I know who you are." It sends a chill down my spine.

"You do?"

"They're looking for you. I hear them, in my head. Such terrible things." She goes back to pulling at her hair, singing softly as she

"Who is looking for me?"

"She is a house of sweets waiting to devour you. She has her spies." she whispers in a way that makes my skin go cold.

I don't know what to make of this. "Miss Hawkins. You may speak plainly to me. Truly, you can trust me. But I must know where to find the Temple. If you know where it is, it is imperative . . ."

Nell turns to me with wide eyes. "Follow the path. Stick to the path."

"The path? What path?"

Quick as a flash, Nell yanks the amulet from my neck so hard that my skin burns from it. Before I can protest, she flips it over, cradling it in both hands. She moves it back and forth as if she's trying to read something on the back of it."The true path."

"Follow the true path. Follow the true path," Cassandra screeches. "What path are you speaking of? Is it in the garden? Or do you mean the river?" I ask.

"No. No. No," Nell murmurs, rocking violently. With a swiftness I do not expect, she bangs the amulet hard against my chair, bending the eye.

"Stop it," I say, grabbing my necklace back. The eye lies at a strange angle now.

"Stay on the path," Nell says again. "They'll try to lead you astray. Show you things you cannot trust. Trust no one. Beware the Poppy Warriors."

My head reels from Nell's strange outbursts. "Miss Hawkins, please, how do I find this path? Will it take me to the Temple?" I ask, but Nell Hawkins is beyond reach, humming softly, knocking her fragile head against the wall in a desperate accompaniment until a nurse moves briskly to her side.

"Now, now, Miss Hawkins. What would the doctor say if he could see you behaving this way? Let's try a sampler, shall we? I've some lovely new thread."

The nurse leads Miss Hawkins away. The tufts of hair sticking out of her bun bob and sway. "The Temple hides in plain sight," she says."Follow the path."

The nurse sits Nell Hawkins in a chair, guiding her hand up and down through tiny stitches. I'm more confused than ever. I peer into Cassandra's cage."Do you understand?"

The bird blinks and blinks again, the tiny black dot of her pupil disappearing in a froth of white feathers and popping back to blackness again like a great illusionist's trick. Now you see it; now you don't. By inches, she turns on the bar of the cage, giving me her colorful back.

"No, I didn't think you did." I sigh.

I ask one of the nurses where I might find Tom, and she tells me to try the men's ward. She offers to escort me, which I know is the proper thing to do, but I assure her that I will wait for Tom instead. Then I slip out and walk toward the men's ward. Doctors pass, deep in conversation. They nod in acknowledgment and I give a congenial, close-mouthed smile in return. Their eyes linger on me for just a moment more, and I look away quickly. It is a strange feeling, to be seen like this. I both want it and fear it a little. There is such power in those fleeting glances, but I do not know what lies on the other side of them, and that scares me a bit. How is it possible to feel both ready and not yet ready for this new world of men?

Mr. Snow of the wandering hands approaches. I duck down a corridor to wait until he is gone. A man sits rubbing his fingers over and over, eyes staring straight ahead. Please, Mr. Snow. Pass on so that I may get back to the hallway unscathed.

"I've a message for you," the man says.

There is no one but the two of us here."I beg your pardon?"

He turns slowly to face me."The spirits are joining together, miss. They're coming for you."

I feel hot and light-headed."What did you say?"

He grins and lowers his head, looking up at me through half-closed lids. The effect is chilling, as if he is a different person altogether. "We're coming for you, miss. We're all coming for you." With a fierce quickness, he snaps his jaws at me, growls, like a mad dog.

Getaway, Gemma. Gasping, I run from him, rounding a corner fast and bumping directly into my astonished brother.

"Gemma! What on earth are you doing up here unescorted?"

"I--I--I . . . looking for you! That man . . . ," I say, pointing behind me.

Tom steps around the corner, and I follow. The old man is sitting once again, staring straight ahead."Mr. Carey. Poor fellow. Completely beyond reach. I'm afraid he'll have to be moved to a county asylum soon."