“And we’ll take the third together,” two of the governesses offer.
Lucy Wheeler waves her hand wildly from her spot next to the radiator. “Bekah and I want to help!”
I smile down at them. “You’re very brave to offer. I thank you for it. But I think perhaps we ought to limit this mission to girls fourteen and up. It’s going to be very dangerous.”
Lucy’s brown eyes go wide. “But my sister—I’ve got to see her—”
“You will. We’ll bring Grace here,” I tell her.
Lucy claps a hand to her heart. “Here? But she’s not a witch!”
“She’s your sister. After what she’s been through, she belongs here, with you,” I say firmly. “Does anyone besides Lucy and Rory have relatives in Harwood? Maud, your cousin is there, right? Caroline, was it?”
“Yes.” Maud grins.
It turns out that Sister Edith’s niece is a patient there, too, and we agree to bring her and Caroline back with us.
“What about me? I can come, can’t I?” Tess frowns up at me from her spot on the flowered rug.
“You are twelve, aren’t you?” I point out. I’ve been avoiding this for days.
Her thin face flushes as she toys with the end of one blond braid. “Yes, but—”
“No. You’re a brilliant witch—and so are you, Lucy, and you, Rebekah—and I daresay you’d all be an asset, and I shall regret not having you there. But I won’t risk your safety,” I explain. “Please don’t fight me on this.”
“I think Cate is right,” Sister Sophia says gently.
“We need to fit into three carriages coming back,” Elena decides. “Fifteen seems like the right number. What do you think, Cate?”
“Er—yes,” I agree, still flabbergasted that she’s asking for my approval. “We’ll need a pair to cover each wing of the asylum, plus several waiting in the front hall to guide the patients. I imagine some of them will just run, and I can’t blame them—but we should remind them that the Brothers may hunt them down again if they go home.” We don’t want a repeat of our mistake with the Richmond Square prisoners.
“You’ll need us. Pearl and I are more familiar with Harwood than anybody.” Addie pokes her drooping spectacles up on her nose. Next to her, quiet Pearl bobs her head in agreement.
In the end, we have almost twice as many volunteers as we need. We settle on Elena and the two governesses who offered to drive a wagon; Sisters Sophia and Edith and Mélisande; Rory, who will look after Brenna; Rilla, who’s brilliant with illusions; Addie and Pearl and Mei, who are all familiar with Harwood’s layout; and Vi, Daisy, Maud, and me. Elena dismisses the rest of the girls, and the Harwood team stays to discuss details and divvy up our posts.
I nab Tess by the elbow. “You understand, don’t you?”
She nods. “I didn’t think you’d let me go, honestly. I hoped I was wrong, but—”
“We still need your help. You’ve got to stay and tell us more about the safe houses.”
Eugenia taps me on the shoulder. “May I speak to you for a minute, privately?” she asks.
“Of course.” I assume she has some concern about commandeering her father’s delivery wagon, and I can’t say I blame her for it. I trail her out into the hall, and we watch as girls tiptoe back to their rooms, careful not to wake their sleeping neighbors. At the far end of the hall, the door to Sister Cora’s rooms is shut tight. Sophia said she could go any moment now. I close my eyes and say a silent prayer that it will be quick and peaceful.
When the last girl disappears downstairs, Eugenia turns to me.
“Since when are you and Elena such bosom friends?” she hisses.
“I—what?”
Her mouth stretches like a storybook monster’s, and I back away. Eugenia’s straight brown braids turn a vibrant red, her brown eyes become a piercing blue, and her spotty complexion turns into my sister’s smooth skin.
“Maura.” I stare at her, horrified, bumping against the green floral wallpaper. “What did you do with Eugenia?”
“Oh, Genie’s fine.” Maura waves a hand, unconcerned. “I did a freezing spell on her and shoved her in her armoire. I’ll let her out in a few minutes. I’m glad I came to your stupid meeting and found out what you and Elena have been up to. Look at all those ninnies, just falling over themselves to impress you!”
“They’re not trying to impress me; they’re doing what’s right,” I point out.
“You’re so sanctimonious, it’s sickening.” Maura crosses her arms over her ruffled blue nightgown. “I can’t believe you’re working with her. I thought you hated her!”
I bite my lip. “She cares about you, you know. She’s sorry for hurting you.”
Maura stares down at the wooden floorboards. “Not enough to be on my side in this.”
“Two people can disagree and still care for each other,” I point out.
“Like you and Tess care about me?” Maura shakes her head, red curls flying. “No. I’m alone in this. I ought to be used to it by now, I suppose; I’m always alone.”
“That’s not true,” I snap, planting my hands on my hips. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”
“You wouldn’t understand. People just flock to you,” Maura accuses, and I gape at her, remembering how many times I’ve jealously thought the exact same thing about her. “Is Finn involved in this?”
“He is,” I say, warily. “Why? Looking for more information to blackmail me with?”
“You shouldn’t let him. This is your fight, not his.” Maura’s blue eyes meet mine solemnly. “He shouldn’t have any part of it.”
“Well, he insisted, and I’m trying not to forbid people things these days. It never seems to turn out well.” I give her a small smile. “Look, I know you’re angry with Tess and me, but this is bigger than just us. These girls need our help. If you and Inez succeed tomorrow night, you don’t know what the Brothers will do to them.”
“Neither do you,” Maura points out, fidgeting with the white lace at her sleeve.
“I know it’ll be awful. The Brothers will make examples of them—torture them or kill them. I can’t just stand by and let that happen.” I look at her imploringly. Even now, part of me hopes that she’ll see reason, that she’ll join us instead of Inez. “Whatever the Brothers do to retaliate, it will be on your head, Maura. Yours and Inez’s. Can you live with that?”
Maura stares at me. “It’s their choice how they respond. If they resurrect the burnings, it will show people how awful they really are. The Brothers are our enemies, Cate. We can’t work together. The sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be.”
• • •
Harwood Asylum squats like a dark monster on the hillside, blotting out the stars. The barred windows of the upper levels are sinister and shadowy; only a few gas lamps glow in the front hall and the nurses’ first-floor sitting room. Fear twists my stomach as the carriage sways up the snowy gravel drive to the guardhouse. Elena, Rilla, Rory, and I have not said a single word to one another since we left the convent. The snow muffles the horses’ hooves; our tense silence is relieved only by soft creaking as they shift in their leather harnesses.